#how is Astrid walking on water? Magic

[cheerleaderman]

Attempted to redraw Jarid in Jasmine and Aladdin scenes

They’re very much Jasmine and Aladdin coded

This is their whole new world + do you trust me scene

Astrid read about lovers dancing on the water and wanted to try it and Jamil decided to go with him

What Meg and Hercules scenes should I do for diya?

Cheer rally- @scint1llat3 @jovieinramshackle @jadelover69 @viperbunnies @bibi-cha @skriblee-ksk

Scenes I redrew

[livingmydreamlife5555]

MCU dr: Daughter of Heimdall

Name: Astrid Heimdalldittir

Birthday: January 24

Height: 5'8"

Appearance: I have natural white hair like above, but it will be short like in the second picture. I have orange-brown like eyes like Heimdall, my dad. It also glows like his too.

Backstory: So long story short, I was born in Asgard to my father and my mom (who was a Valkyrie. We all know what happens to them. I might script she also survived). But anyways, Hela had been targeting me because of my powers that I got from my mom's side. It skipped a generation and got to me. Because of that, my dad teleported me to Earth, where I was taken to an orphanage. I grew up there, all the way until I was 15.

One day when I was 15 and walking through New York, the avengers were fighting a villain and a big piece of debris was flying my way. And me not knowing I had powers, I put my hands out to defend myself (my dumb ass would've died anyways) and my powers activated without me knowing. I had froze the debris to save myself. Me, being the scared teenager, ran back to the orphanage to hide from attention. But most of them noticed who I was. Next day before I knew it, I was getting adopted by the avengers and living with them 💪🏾

Powers: I will be able to control all the elements (more like tech, metal and others) but I first start off with Ice, Fire, Water, and Lightning. I also have super strength, super speed, y'know all the Asgardian stuff since I'm Asgardian. I also scripted to have the same Omni-senses like my father. My fighting will be like how the elemental benders fight in the Avatar ☺️. In the future I will learn how to use Asgardian magic too. I have like two pages for powers 💪🏾🙄

Extra info:

Kinda funny how I had this script for a long time and the official name of Heimdall's first child in the canon MCU is also named Astrid. He's a boy though 💀

I'm gonna be the Norse Goddess of Nature.

I can play multiple instruments, just like in my other realities. It's the one thing that I always keep

I scripted that Asgard isn't destroyed (duh) and that Loki doesn't die. So he will also be there with the avengers (I'm so excited to see him)

I based off my mom's appearance from the marvel hero Storm (she's so pretty please-)

I'm still going to school with Peter, and we'll be out own hero duo (like ladybug and cat noir. Love myself for scripting this).

I can talk to animals 🤭

I am able to control all the elements, including electricity, technology, and I can also do Energy Absorption, Solar manipulation, moon energy manipulation, water bending, earth bending, fire bending, airbending, blood bending, metal bending, lava bending, i can also control plants, techno manipulation, flora and fauna manipulation, matter manipulation, crystal manipulation, allspeak

This was one of my first scripts lol. Still glad I'm shifting here. It was also where I first shifted. I had scripted to have one of the children to wake me up, and I saw her. She was wearing a pink dress too 🩷🩷

-Honey out 🍯🍯🍯

[choccy-zefirka]

One Shot Hype!

Almost lost the tag in my notifs hsfjfhdjf

@ziskandra tagged me in this writer meme:

"Hype up a one-shot you've written in the past"

And boy do I have many a one-shot! :D

I think I will just copy-paste the one I had particular fun writing right here! It's the thought process of one of my Rooks (obviously an Emmrichmancer, there's no Rook without Volkarin at this point for me). Her name is Hjördis, she used to be one of the urchins waiting on old man Xenon at the Black Emporium and then got adopted by Hawkemeribela. She has made it her life's mission to have no fear at all, ever, and this is how she hypes herself (and the reader I guess) up. I am just delighted by how I captured her voice :D

Fear, you see, comes from overthinking. Thinking in general, even.

The more you turn something that frightens you over and over inside your mind, the more your thoughts begin to drip a very particular black goop. You must have felt it when you were afraid. It bubbles underneath the surface, closing up your throat, filling your lungs, not letting you breathe — sometimes even reaching the back of your eyes and blinding you. A tiny Blight, if you will, of your very own making.

So to keep yourself from suffocating, just... Don't think. Don't allow yourself those still, quiet moments when your mind stirs and begins playing tricks on you.

Move fast, look ahead, grab on to your very first instinct and let it pull you along — like you are rushing down frothing river rapids astride a giant man-eating raytooth; an even bigger, nastier cousin of the critter that almost shredded Bharv and his team, when yet another of his plans fell apart. Well, when I dealt with that thing, I had no plan, aside from prying a friend's prosthetic arm out of its barbed tunnel of a mouth. And I did just that, with no time wasted on churning thought goop.

We both got our gold and glory in the end, and I landed with an eye-catching new scar: several circles of razor tooth marks right over my shoulder. Beloved by the ladies, the gents, and pretty much everyone else. Would I be getting free drinks in exchange for my scar story if I mulled about on the shore, thinking? I dare say not!

So yes. To be fearless, act like you just grabbed a haul of elven statuettes from some human "collector's" vault and are bolting across his posh gardens, weaving and ducking among the fluttering swan shrubs, the back wall in sight and the guards at your heel. Outrun the guards. Outrun your thoughts.

See a log between two clifftops, bridging a long, narrowing funnel of a drop, with nothing but blue mist at the bottom? Walk it. Walk the damn log. Don't think about what's below. Just keep balance and push ahead.

Catch a glimpse of the cultist you are chasing, a bright-red dot against the city grey, flailing their robed arms and doing their ghastly blood rituals on a rooftop? With the only way to get to them being a zip line? Grab tight, and whizz forth. Over the streets. With the golden windows flickering far below your floating feet; with the moon enormous and bright behind your back; with the rusty smell of your quarry's magic hitting your nose, breaking through the rank mixture of stagnant water and someone's doomed cooking. Don't think. Fly. You will never reach your target if you think.

When someone screams for help from the frothing golden maw of a burning building, be the first to rush in. Give yourself no pause to imagine how the fire will feel, eating at your skin. When the tattoo master offers to ink you, grin and agree to the largest, most outrageous design that would get you banned from entering several Chantries. When you are offered a dare, accept it, and top it up with some extra flourish. To show just how fearless you are.

When your favorite uncle — well, your mothers' best friend, technically, but my first impulse is to call him that, and I never thought twice about it — comes by with an urgent plea to chase down some weird mage he used to know, and stop him from destroying the world... Do not even blink. Follow him into the craziest, upside-down maelstrom of acid-green wild magic and floating rocks. Jump with him into the very Fade. Whatever it takes. No hesitation. No fear.

And somewhere along the way, you may meet another weird mage. Weird — and terrifying. Because he's a necromancer, and you have seen — I have seen — what his kind can do, what horrors they sculpt from the rotting, squelching flesh-clay. You remember — I remember — that night in the old foundry, when Mama Tillie lost her own mother and gained a daughter. I was a tiny, trembling urchin back then; I'd taken a wrong turn on an errand for the creepy mirror man (that story will cost three free drinks), and stumbled into a death mage in the middle of stitching his dead wife back together from matching scraps carved out of other women. Now, that is food for black, goopy thought if there is one.

So. Anyway. Say you do meet a necromancer. And he frightens you to your very core, more than fire or a steep careen off a cliff or the dripping scarlet jaws of a sea monster ever will. What do you do then?

Right. You don't think. You follow your first impulse. Which, since you are — I am — also the daughter of Mama Bela, is to flirt. Relentlessly. Strike a confident pause. Try to stare him down, even if you barely reach his chest. See what will finally make that bookworm stumble over his words; what will finally make a blush creep over his cheeks.

Then, you just might realize that he is not so terrifying after all. That he is courteous and attentive... Which shouldn't matter; Mama Tillie always said that the death mage from the foundry was courteous and attentive with her mother before he took her... He wooed her with white flowers, dammit!

But — but his smile seems so sincere. His eyes seem so kind.

Watch out. You may slip. You may plummet.

Oh.

Oh shit.

[ivycovehq]

welcome to ivy cove, fox! we can’t wait to meet daphne bridgerton, snow white, ororo munroe, susan pevensie, astrid hofferson, wyll ravengard. please make sure you read through the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours

we are in the middle of an event. daphne has been placed in piltover and zaun with agatha harkness as a roommate, snow white has been placed in volantis with rhaenyra targaryen as roommate, ororo munroe has been placed in baldur’s gate, susan pevensie has been placed in coruscant, astrid hofferson has been placed in the northern water tribe, wyll has been placed in volantis. they will get roommates as more characters are apped for

( fox, she/her, 25, gmt-3 ) woah! was that DAPHNE BRIDGERTON walking down main street? i heard they’re not actually from ivy cove but come from BRIDGERTON. they’re 27 and live in GLEN OAKS HEIGHTS but watch out because they can be IMPULSIVE + A LITTLE NAIVE but are actually DETERMINED + GENEROUS. despite them HAVING memories, you’ll always think of PASTEL COLORS, ELEGANT BALLROOMS, VINTAGE JEWELRY, FAMILY PORTRAITS AND DELICATE LACE when imagining them. / phoebe dynevor, she/her.

( fox, she/her, 25, gmt-3 ) woah! was that SNOW WHITE walking down main street? i heard they’re not actually from ivy cove but come from DISNEY. they’re 25 and live in CORDOVA GROVE but watch out because they can be IDEALISTIC + OVERLY TRUSTING but are actually KIND HEARTED + OPTIMISTIC. despite them NOT HAVING memories, you’ll always think of CLASSIC FAIRYTALES, JOYFUL SONGS, POISONED APPLE, FOREST ANIMALS AND TRUE LOVE THAT RETURNS TO LIFE when imagining them. / adelaide kane, she/her.

( fox, she/her, 25, gmt-3 ) woah! was that ORORO MUNROE / STORM walking down main street? i heard they’re not actually from ivy cove but come from MARVEL. they’re 30 and live in RADIAN HILLS but watch out because they can be MISTRUSTFUL + HEADSTRONG but are actually EMPATHETIC + POWERFUL. despite them HAVING memories, you’ll always think of STORMY SKIES, THUNDER, NATURE, ELEMENTAL MAGIC AND STRONG BONDS when imagining them. / halle berry, she/her.

( fox, she/her, 25, gmt-3 ) woah! was that SUSANA PEVENSIE walking down main street? i heard they’re not actually from ivy cove but come from THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA. they’re 23 and live in CORDOVA GROVE but watch out because they can be SKEPTIC + PRAGMATIC but are actually BRAVE + DIPLOMATIC. despite them HAVING memories, you’ll always think of ENCHANTED FLORESTS, ANCIENT RUINS, COZY FIRESIDES, TALKING LIONS AND ADVENTURE MAPS when imagining them. / anna popplewell, she/her.

( fox, she/her, 25, gmt-3 ) woah! was that ASTRID HOFFERSON walking down main street? i heard they’re not actually from ivy cove but come from HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON. they’re 26 and live in SHOREGRAZE RIDGE but watch out because they can be COMPETITIVE + PROUD but are actually RESOURCEFUL + LOYAL. despite them HAVING memories, you’ll always think of VIKING VILLAGES, FLY ON DRAGONS, BOLD ADVENTURES, HEROIC MOMENTS AND WILD SPIRIT when imagining them. / emilia clarke, she/her.

( fox, she/her, 25, gmt-3 ) woah! was that WYLL walking down main street? i heard they’re not actually from ivy cove but come from BALDURS GATE 3. they’re 33 and live in RADIAN HILLS but watch out because they can be DISTANT + RESTRAINED but are actually CHARMING + INTELLIGENT. despite them NOT HAVING memories, you’ll always think of MAGICAL CONTRACT, MYSTICAL RELICS, DARK SECRETS, PROUD OF THE OLD SCARS AND FAMILY EMOTIONAL DEBT when imagining them. / regé-jean page, he/him.

[betweenthetimeandsound]

--prompt from @flashfictionfridayofficial

"Take the Moonabyss River," the old man declared, stretching his hand through the dirtied waters. "If you are lost, then look into its depths, and it would guide your way back."

Princess Stellaliis bit her lip, pondering on his words. He fished the waters all his life, only to find his most precious cargo find new homes in her boat. He sees the same sun as she does, but the yearning for his salvage makes him cry in the depths of his despair. Meanwhile, the last time Stellaliis took a quick glimpse at the morning light, it tickled her like a feather.

"But how would you know that the river is a better way than the road?" She asked, raising her head at the dancing grasses.

He sighed. "Those roads--they are nebulous, and would take you to a place in the sky nobody wants you to go. The undead walk there, and take their souls...to barter with Re'letsi'Te...."

"But wouldn't we go there, after we die?"

"We have to live in this realm, and make good on what our goddess promised us."

At that moment, Stellaliis stiffened, and gritted her teeth. He couldn't have known more than this patch of land he was born onto, will he? On the other hand, she could graze her hand and let everything grow like flowers in a savage garden. Those same plants would form her crown, and she would sit astride her throne.

"Take the Moonabyss River," he hounded again, this time with a breaking voice.

Pouting, Stellaliis stepped into the river. Its cool waters tickled her feet, but weighed her gown also. Only a few moments in did she grimace on the dirt all around her; many as the stars, but they could not burn without a spark.

"Now go." Raising his hand in blessing, Stellaliis nodded before striding further and further away. The old man disappearing from her sight, she found the fog surrounding her envelop into a darkness, one she couldn't make out. She clenched on the sleeves of her dress, hoping the minor shows of wealth would be enough for someone to take her home.

Stellaliis rose her hand, imagining the reeds forming into a boat, floating at her feet. As she cupped her hands to amplify her magic, it flew away from her, and she collapsed on the banks.

"You could find purity in this place, but you must work for it."

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

Fire & Flight: Characters Out of Context Tag

Ngl, i was first overwhelmed by the idea of how I was gonna pull this off because I have like 3 different books bouncing around in my head rn and am getting them all mixed up, but then I remembered the search function was a thing😂 Any way, HUGE thank you to @blind-the-winds for tagging me in this! I really enjoyed scrolling through your fill and have been loving all of your recent TNS content💜 And before I get carried away, I'll tag: @violetcancerian, @author-a-holmes, @faelanvance, and any one else who'd like to participate. No pressure to fill!💜

Charity: “Go on then, kill me!” — [Redacted😉]

Chapter 1: [no dialogue]

Chapter 2: “I’d like to barter for a map and compass. Know anyone?” — Nyla

Chapter 3: “No, thank you, Mrs. Focaccia.” — Xander

[Honorable mention: “Amelia tells me he’s been all over town, helping her with the tailor’s deliveries. If he can spend these last few weeks galivanting all over Halberry and beyond, then he can surely come around and help his dearest aunt.” — Betsy]

Chapter 4: “Oh, hey, map girl.” — Xander

Chapter 5: “I don’t think there’s a map in this world that could help me get to where I’m going.” — Nyla

Chapter 6: “I-I’m not sure.” She paused. Her voice shook, barely above a whisper, like she was still terrified, “I mean, I remember, but it’s weird. The ogre was just there, and then it wasn’t. And the light…” — Nyla

Chapter 7: “Never mind.” She bit her lip. Her feet stopped, and she cast a glance in either direction. After a moment’s hesitation, she asked, “How long do you think we’ve been walking?” — Nyla

Chapter 8: “Since we got here, I’ve been thinking: is it worth it?” His voice shook as he continued, “What if it isn’t what I hoped it would be? What if I’m better off without it?” — Xander

Temperance: “I envy you,” Cedric said quietly. The gleam in Dia’s eyes softened, becoming curious. “You could fly away, never to be bothered by manifestations of your own guilt or nightmares or years of—of doing nothing.”

Chapter 9: “Did you just try to shoot me?” — Xander

[Bonus “All I’m saying is that I was almost shot today. It’s pretty terrifying that you have such good aim for someone who didn’t know they had magic.” — Xander]

Chapter 10: “You’re right, I guess, though finding shelter in the rain and dead of night is extremely difficult and impractical. I just thought it would be nice to sleep in a nice, warm inn with a featherbed and running water and a hot meal, a real meal, at the inn’s tavern. But it’s your call, whatever makes you happy,” he tempted with a shrug of his shoulder. — Xander

Chapter 11: “I don’t know. I thought it was just a dream or a nightmare, but none of it makes sense.” Her hand floated up to her shoulder where Astrid’s hand had been, her eyes puzzled. “I’m not really sure to be honest. It all felt so real.” — Nyla

Chapter 12: “You will never hurt anyone like you’ve hurt me. I might not know what the hell is going on, but that doesn’t really matter because no matter what you do or how powerful you are, I am going to stop you, even if it means killing you!” — Nyla

Hope: “I hope that wasn’t more trouble than it was worth,” Cedric grumbled as he grabbed the bloody dagger beside him and used the nightstand to pull himself up.

Chapter 13: “Tired of picking the lock?” — Nan (aka Gerri)

[Bonus: “I hope you know that you owe me an explanation as to how you managed to cut yourself that badly while unconscious,” he said dryly. — Xander]

[Extra bonus because I can’t help myself: “I’m sorry almost being stabbed and killed is interrupting your usual sleeping habits,” Xander replied dryly as he turned his back to her.]

Chapter 14: “Bold words from the man trying to convince me to go shopping when I should be resting.” — Nyla

Chapter 15: “Why? Why is this so important to you?” — Nyla

Chapter 16: “Me too.” Nyla nodded slowly. It all came back to her. The memory sparked from the far reaches of her mind. “I’ve felt this before, this sort of nothing, when I traveled in the Dunelands. I thought it was just the heat and the fact that I… well, you know me. But I’m beginning to think it isn’t like that at all. There’s nothing here, no life, no energy, no...”

Faith: [no dialogue]

Chapter 17: “Well, if you’re gonna leave your bow with me, I feel like it’s my duty to warn you—you may not have any arrows left if I have to use it.” — Nyla

Chapter 18: “Really? So, every rock in the Shadow Forest just happened to find its way into your boots? Or how about the fact that even now you can barely keep your balance? I bet a gentle breeze could knock you over right now. So, honestly, what’s up?” — Xander

Chapter 19: “I’ll run if that’s what you want to do. Might not last long, but hey, it would buy us some time,” he offered sincerely. — Xander

Chapter 20: “I feel like there’s waves crashing over me. And do ya know what? I’m okay if they sweep me away. It’s nice just sort of…floating.” — Nyla

Courage: [no dialogue]

Chapter 21: “How do you know that? That’s like saying if I was never born, my family would still be alive, and [REDACTED] wouldn’t have started the fire. You just don’t know that. So what if you two were fighting? I believe our families know exactly how much they mean to us. You can’t be angry at yourself for things you think you could’ve or should’ve done because you just don’t know. You need to stop blaming yourself.” Nyla tugged his hand to get her point across as she brought her other hand up to wipe away Xander’s tears. “Love doesn’t disappear just because people pass away. It’s always there, even when we hate ourselves.”

[Bonus because that was angsty: No one chooses magic. It just happens, Shamira explained. Do you question your free will? The reason you need to breathe? To eat? To drink?]

Prudence: “You aren’t the only one that’s unhappy about this,” he muttered, glancing over the letter. — Cedric

Chapter 22: You have more control than you think. Maybe not as much stamina as you’d hoped, but your magic is strong. You are strong. You just have to learn to trust in yourself, in your magic. You’ve already done so much, keeping yourself safe all this time. The only limit is your own fear. — Shamira

Chapter 23: “Almost. There’s an inner gate farther up, but yeah. Welcome to the abandoned Woodlane Manor of Hart,” Nyla replied with an air of resignation.

[Bonus: “Oh sure, take all the fun out of breaking into an old, abandoned manor, why don’t you!” — Xander]

Chapter 24: “You didn’t tell me it was this bad.” — Xander

Chapter 25: “When will I ever get the chance to explore a creepy old manor, inhabited by a creepy old woman, who may or may not be an imprisoned traitor trying to kill us, with a cat creature that mysteriously goes off on her own to find something you or I can’t possibly see on our own? Sounds like fun to me.” — Xander

Chapter 26: “If you don’t think you can trust yourself, then can you even trust at all?” — Westley

Chapter 27: Don’t look at me like you expect an answer. Wands are an entirely human device. No other magic users have need for a wand that I know of. If anything, I’d think they’re cumbersome. — Shamira

Chapter 28: “Yeah. I opened my eyes, and there she was, the girl with silver hair and no map.” He paused, looking down at the table. His features softened. When he spoke again, it was reflection that painted his voice. “Turns out we were both going to Fortune Falls. And I guess I just felt like I needed to help her. You weren’t there when she discovered her magic.” — Xander

[Bonus: “You know, I’m a little disappointed that there isn’t more of a reception.” — Cedric]

[Extra Bonus: Hold her down! I have to heal her, or she won’t make it! — Shamira]

A/N 2: Idec if I broke the rules on this one😅 There were just too many options for certain chapters and too lines that I loved and couldn't choose between lol

[feral-teeth]

Hi! If you're feeling it, List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers

I answered a different ask before this, so I wanted to use this one as a deep dive into my interests!

Thank u for asking, btw! It rlly means a lot <33

Click on show more to see my answers!

Follow my letterboxd if you like movies as much as I do!

Part 1 - Favourite movies

1) Favourite movies

Saltburn - cinematography is stunning and the symbolic metaphors… wow. It really is easy to edit because the movie is just so damn stunning and has extremely powerful and beautiful shots.

The dark and twisted and sexy themes are right up my alley and I loved the ambiguity of Oliver as a character. He was the Minotaur of the labyrinth and he became king of the castle that placed him there. And we never saw it coming, or at least Felix’s family didn’t.

But Saltburn was always waiting for him, it never belonged to that family anyways. It was always just waiting for its next host.

My favourite vampire movie that doesn’t have any supernatural elements to it. But you could feel the vampire lurking in the shadows, around every corner once he entered Saltburn. He killed all of the other hosts, drank their blood until they run dry.

And it finally belonged to him.

Midsommar - this movie lulls you in with a sense of safety and you fall right into the pit filled with a glowing light that never goes away like the sun in Midsommar.

You feel happy for her in the end, she’s smiling right? You feel like his boyfriend deserved his fate in the end.

Sadly, she’s gone from one manipulator to another. But at least she’s happy. Girl power!1!

Rise of the Guardians - this story takes you away and makes you feel like a kid again when watching. It makes you recall times in your childhood when you wished that Jack Frost could come and give your town a fresh layer of snow so that you could have a snow day off from school. Magic and fantasy will never be lost in my heart, especially when I’m watching this movie <3

(Also always had a crush on Jack Frost tbh)

How to Train your Dragon- feeling like you don’t belong? Like the black sheep of the family ?and then creating a whole new way of living that makes your lives easier? It’s giving neurodivergent people who struggle to survive in a world not built for them, so they create their own worlds or fix things in the one that we have to make it easier for everyone, but especially those with disabilities.

That might just be me though, and the dragons are super cool! I really wish I could ride a dragon. I remember having dreams of riding a white dragon in the sky after I watched the movie when I was younger. I also wish I could have a family like Hiccup and Astrid, to find somewhere that I feel like I belong. I guess I am going to have to create that space, or hopefully find it soon.

Little women - Jo March and this movie has my whole heart and inspired me to write and play and to care about my interests and to look at the world through the lens of a child and have fun whenever I can. I love stepping into this world and to live in the fantasy of what creativity can bring.

Mamma Mia - this movie is my childhood. It’s what started my dreams of travel and having a beautiful relationship with friends and to find the loves of my life. The setting in Greece is stunning, and it makes me yearn to see the blue azure waters in person one day. To see the architecture, to walk among all of the footsteps that make its way across the roads made of stone. I love the soundtrack and no offence to ABBA, I only listen to the Mama Mia version of their songs because the voices from characters in the movies remind me of how much fun they had. I want to have my wedding there, right where Sophie did. I want the dance parties and the breaking out into song and the raunchiness and fun vibes they had. Please send these good vibes to me, universe.

Mamma Mia here we go again - I love watching Donna fall in love with each man, and the music doesn’t hurt either. It’s just an overall fun time, and to see the main trio that I fell in love with as their younger selves and seeing more of that dynamic is so so fun. Also this movie is just so wistful for me and makes me wish I could live in the 70s. The outfits in this movie are so much fun too, and I will be taking inspiration on my next rewatch and go shopping soon.

Portrait of a Lady on Fire - very gay, beautiful striking movie that makes me feel things I can’t put into words. Heartbreaking and yearning that is far too relatable. Love and heartbreak, especially sapphic heartbreak is history repeating itself. I wish to love as strongly and as madly as they do. But please don’t give me the heartbreak, please let me stay with the lover I am given.

La La Land - a beautiful soundtrack, this made me fall back in love with music and lighting design and colour and the movies. I need to create or be in movies as soon as I can. This movie showed the both negative and positive sides of that world, but I still crave to be apart of that world. I need to live and breathe in it. I need to be an actor. Please, it’s all I’ve ever dreamed of when I was younger. I also need to be a musician, to create songs and compose lyrics that will bring others to tears and create an impact through my music like music does to me. I hope the universe is on my side with this one, I think I wouldn’t be able to breathe if I never ended up doing what I wanted. I would never be able to live without music and performance.

Honourable mentions:

Luca

Call me by Your Name

Impractical Magic

The Holiday

Howl’s Moving Castle

Parasite

Totoro

Kiki’s Delivery Service

Secret Life of Walter Mitty

If I could step into movies, I would

If you made it this far, follow my letterboxd!

If you read this far I love you.

Please let me know if you like any of these movies or if these reminded you of any you liked! I love any suggestions <3

[3d10fire-damage]

Colors That Run Highlights 54

unda da sea

Along the way through the Water District, Calypso engaged in some Yoda-esque hunting for frogs to feed Flux. It went rather well, because after all, frogs are just slimy weird dogs. She offered frogs to Flux until she refused to eat them anymore, and it was concluded that Calypso was an invasive species to the swamp ecosystem.

Due(??) to an offhand joke that Valor laid the purple dragon egg, Fea popped a squat and tried to lay an egg herself. When Calypso asked her why she was squatting, Valor suggested she was actually trying to poop. Cue the DM’s bafflement and woe:

When the party approached the lake housing Pory, they were approached by a water genasi guy who offered to place an enchantment that would allow them to breathe underwater-- air bubble around the head style. Everyone that needed it paid for two weeks of air, and those poor souls with pets paid for their air as well (sucks to be Valor right now). Kattie would be fully blind underwater, so she and Jericho attached themselves to Avi with some rope.

Avi’s Water Walk spell was discussed as a possible rapid escape route, as it has the effect of rocketing the target(s) to the surface of the water if they’re already submerged. Emergency ejector button.

The group descended to Pory on the sea floor. Avi broke off from the group, with those subject to his whims, to find a shark and pet it. Calypso got a closer look at the funky oceanic plant life, tasting some seaweed, much to Valor’s distaste (it just tasted like salt. Fea, meanwhile, marveled at all the lifelight down in the water and how smoothly it all moves.

After taking in the sights for a bit, the group proceeded to look for their contact Luna referred them to, a woman named Roca. They sought her out at her music (opera) house, the Sailor’s Siren. Once led back outside by the receptionist, the party laid eyes upon Roca-- a giant mermaid with half the body of a whale. Roca put a pause on the singing lesson she was giving to greet the party. She spoke to them in a smooth baritone, and the party was rather... taken with her.

Roca provided some information about Pory-- how its authorities are essentially private guards hired by the nobility, referred to as tycoonheads. Roca also referred the party to Teagan, the owner of a tavern across the way, for help re: infiltrating a brothel. The less horny half of the group engaged in some useful conversation, thankfully, because throughout Roca’s spiel Calypso was full-on ogling Roca’s tits. But at least she was being subtle about it--

--NOT!

There was a bit more banter and fluster before the group then left to find Teagan. Avi admonished Calypso for being a useless lesbian, and Calypso had assumed he’d be more understanding about it, considering he’s apparently dating someone large enough to eat planets or whatever. Fea argued simply that one does not get an opportunity such as this one very often.

Once in the tavern, the group observed a very drunk customer having a one-sided conversation with Teagan... a customer with a familiar cadence. It was... Corrin! Finally! He greeted the group excitedly, ordering a round of drinks for everyone.

Kattie explained to Avi and Jericho who Corrin was while everyone else caught up. Apparently Corrin had been bopping around Pory’s casinos for a while, and was currently separated from Astrid, who would be in the Fire District right now, so they could cover more ground. At the mention of the Breakfast Club’s mission, Corrin said that he had seen people wearing magic collars of some sort in multiple establishments in Pory, including the fight club in the chasm and the brothel called the Oasis. Corrin also apparently had just never encountered anyone with the Rising Tide despite his efforts.

Teagan brought out the specialty drink for his tavern-- a miniature pirate ship that is to be cracked apart to release the shot of liquor within. Hey, when you’re underwater, the drinks have to be creative.

Soon the group went up to Corrin’s room, and the conversation continued. When Corrin learned of Roca he immediately planned to go to her and shoot his shot. The conversation eventually landed on how Corrin’s quest of self-discovery had been going, since that had been his original intention when he left (along with helping Astrid). He explained that he felt a bit more grounded after helping people he encountered here in Harmonce, and that perhaps that sort of thing was his purpose. Avi detached from Kattie and Jericho to vibe at the bar, passing the rope to Fea. He soon had company, however.

(and then they had a talk about it 😔)

The next morning, the party gathered downstairs for breakfast as usual. Avi was surly due to the lack of access to the stars down in Pory, and Calypso was surly for other reasons. Fea sat with her, as she does, and soon the party hit up Teagan for the Lore-- rather, Calypso asked how they could get into the business of being sexy for money. Teagan explained that the Oasis was owned by a woman named Shouscylla, who he does not like. Teagan’s suggestion was for the party to work for him, so that Shouscylla would come to poach them for her own business. If they did work for her, she would almost certainly equip them with the obedience collars or cuffs. Teagan also mentioned that many of the tycoonheads have spies called cuttlekin that have been turning people in for being suspicious.

With this information, the group decided to scope out the Oasis before committing to working there. But they’d have to wait till later in the day for that, so they set about on various errands or distractions until then. Valor offered some of her beauty goo to Avi, as the spell component for True Seeing (to give to Kattie so she could try to Dispel Magic on the cuffs in the Oasis), even though he didn’t need a handout now that he had gold to spend.

Fea and Calypso, naturally, headed over to see Roka perform at the Sailor’s Siren. They even did the thing where they argue over who pays for the tickets. Corrin was also there, closer to the front, but later he would be turned down by Roca. Alas. Avi and Jericho went on an Ocean Animal Adventure, and Valor and Kattie had a girls’ day out.

That night, the group made their way to the Oasis. Upon entering the establishment, the majority of the group fell prey to some sort of spell effect, lowering their inhibitions and enticing them directly toward the gorgeous performers. Avi and (surprisingly) Calypso saved from the effect and remained focused. But the further they moved into the building, the effect grew stronger, and this time only Avi and Jericho were safe. Fea beelined for a stripper and knelt (praying at the altar of ass) to watch her, Calypso following.

Avi, using Detect Magic, noted that about 20 Oasis workers (all of them in the room), as well as all the people downstairs, were wearing the cuffs. The Oasis’s entrances were enchanted to do magic upon all who enter. During his investigating, Shouscylla approached him and Jericho to try and lure them closer to the dancers. She radiated bad vibes. Avi also ordered a drink but made sure to use Purify Food and Drink on it before drinking.

Valor had a seat and was approached by a jellyfish lady who introduced herself as Cora (Teagan had mentioned her). After Cora jolted Valor out of her stupor, the two engaged in conversation, going through the motions of having a more charged encounter. Cora said that the cuffs could be disabled with a little jolt of her electricity, and would be interested in aiding the party in doing their rebellion. Valor suggested she tell others about the party’s presence and their intent to help.

Calypso threw some gold to the stripper she and Fea were watching, and the woman (who sounded like Lina Lamont) bent down to Fea and seductively touched her mask. This broke the spell on Fea (she does not want anyone to touch her mask, with one exception) and prompted her to walk away from the stage.

Soon enough Avi herded the rest of the party toward the exit, and they all discussed what they had learned, if anything. With the information Valor got from Cora, the party began to formulate some possible plans to go from there.

it was... a stupid and sexy episode

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Coming Home - Bonus Chapter 2 - Lucien’s Cottage

Lucien x Reader

Okay, I got a tad carried away with with this 🤣 but who cares, it’s Lucien content 🤷🏻‍♀️

The story of how Y/N and Lucien met while she was travelling. Enjoy!

If you missed the other bonus chapter, you can read it here!

Warnings: SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. 🌶️

⧪

It felt like you’d been walking for days upon days upon days. 

You didn’t know how mortals did it – how they could stand such slow, dragging journeys on foot. 

The Wall surely had to be close by now, if you’d calculated correctly. And stupidly, you’d winnowed so much that your magic reserves were depleted, useless until you stopped to rest. So you had nothing but your feet to carry you to the Spring Court border and beyond. 

After the first hour of walking, you were sick of your own thoughts. Tired from days of travel and not much sleep. The weapons you carried on you felt heavier than they normally did. 

The only indication that you’d crossed over into Spring was the lush green of the forest you found yourself in – so rich, vibrant, with sweet-smelling flowers and petals and leaves of every shade you could think of. You’d never visited the Spring Court before – never had a particular desire to, after what its High Lord and his sons had done to you – but it was a well known fact that its gardens and landscapes were second to none. 

Still, you didn’t plan to stick around in a place where such poison had lived and breathed – the main reason you’d not stopped to rest. Just get to The Wall. Get to The Wall, and cross over into the mortal lands, and then you can find an inn and sleep for as long as you damn well please. 

For all the woods, and the sprawling estates they bordered, were beautiful, the sky wasn’t the spring blue that you’d hoped for to make your journey that bit easier. Dark, angry clouds had begun to crowd the sky, painting it with darkness. It made the towering trees feel slightly ominous. 

You relented, eventually, and stopped – embarrassingly worn out for a High Fae who should have been able to walk to the ends of the world. But your body was begging for rest – just a small sit-down, you promised yourself – and that was how you found yourself kneeling on a riverbank, dipping your hands into the crystal clear water. 

You drank greedily – hadn’t even noticed quite how badly you’d needed it, until the cool water ran down your throat in such a satisfying, glorious way. You used it to scrub dirt and sweat from your face, and savoured the feeling of clarity that washed over you, basked in it–

Perhaps that was why you hadn’t heard the approaching footsteps until they were right behind you. 

No, not footsteps. The rhythmic clopping of a horse’s hooves. You turned just slightly, threw a glance over your shoulder. 

The male astride the horse was nothing short of a magnificent vision. 

Bright red hair that could have given any of these spring flowers a run for their money. Golden skin that seemed to glint and glow, and deep, russet eyes–

No – only one russet eye. The left side of his face was brutally marred, a pink, jagged scar cutting through where his left eye should have been, but had been replaced by a gold, metal one that seemed to move of its own accord as he studied you. The scar seemed fairly recent – even with the brilliant magic of fae healing. With your knowledge of healing, you suspected he’d only received the injury anywhere from a matter of months to a year or so ago. 

Stunning. He was stunning.

He took in the sight of you on that riverbank, his thick, defined brows furrowing. 

“Can I be of some assistance, lady?” He asked.

“Nope.” You stood up, dusting dirt and leaves from your breeches. “Unless you can tell me how close I am to The Wall.” 

He cocked an eyebrow, as if such a question surprised him. “I’d say about a day away – on foot. On a good day.” He glanced up at the sky. “But there’s a storm approaching.”

You swore under your breath, reaching for the small bag you carried with you. You’d thought you’d made more progress than that. Walking was so fucking mind-numbing.

“Dare I ask why a beautiful lady such as yourself is travelling alone in the woods – towards The Wall?” The male asked, rubbing the neck of his white horse as it moved restlessly. 

“I’m going to the mortal lands.” You shrugged. “But thank you – for the compliment. I’m honoured that a stranger deems me too beautiful to travel alone.” 

He stared at you – and snorted at the sarcasm dripping from your tone. It was as you approached him that you got a better look at him, although the light was rapidly fading with the gathering storm. 

But you’d know those famous features anywhere – silky red hair, russet eyes…you didn’t know why you hadn’t clocked it straight away. 

“You’re a Vanserra, aren’t you?” You said. 

“I am…” He eyed you with a lick of suspicion. “Do we know each other?” 

“No. But I am curious to know what a Vanserra is doing across the Spring border.” 

“What are you doing across the Spring border?”

“As I said.” You breezed past him, patting his horse as you passed. “I’m travelling to The Wall.” 

That perfectly arched eyebrow cocked again. “Not any time soon, you’re not. With the torrential rain that’s coming, you’ll barely be able to see your own hand in front of your face.” 

You wanted to throw your head back and let out an infantile groan – but no way would you do so in front of a Vanserra. The males of the Autumn Court were notoriously smooth, dripping with charisma. And though they didn’t exactly have a good history with your own court, you didn’t plan to embarrass yourself in front of the glorious male before you. 

“It doesn’t storm here very often.” He said, eyeing you. “But when it does, it’s relentless. There’s no way you’ll be able to travel through it.” 

“Fantastic.” You sighed. “I guess I’m finding a tree to shelter under for the night.” 

“That’s absurd – you won’t be any better off.” 

“Yes, well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have a pretty horse to gallop me away like you do, so…”

Your words trailed off as he rolled his eyes – and jumped down from the horse. The sculpt of his muscles pressed through the material of his tunic and breeches as he moved towards you, holding out a hand.

“What are you doing?” You stepped back. 

“Helping you up.” He said. “There’s an old cottage not too far from here that I was going to shelter in until the storm passed. You’ll be far more comfortable there.”

You studied him, narrowing your eyes. Clearly, he couldn’t possibly know who you were – the High Lord of the Night Court’s sister – or he no doubt would have left you to get soaked and battered by the storm. But you’d learned to be cautious of everyone you’d met on the road, learned to question their intentions–

And with the reputation of the Vanserras…

“And why would you help me?” You asked, folding your arms. “We’re strangers.” 

“Perhaps I have a soft spot for pretty ladies with mud and leaves in their hair.” 

Your cheeks burned. But before you could reach up and tug your fingers through the knotted strands, he was lifting you into his arms with barely a blink, and you yelped as he set you atop the horse. 

“Hold on.” He murmured as he settled behind you, the heat of his body pressing through your tunic. He grabbed your hands, closing them around the reins, and with a gentle command to his horse, you were moving.

 “My name is Lucien, by the way.”

⧪

What Lucien Vanserra had failed to mention was that the old cottage was, in fact, an ancient, decrepit, crumbling cottage that couldn’t be much more secure than any tree you would have found to shelter you.

There was hardly anything in there, aside from a few scattered bits of wooden furniture and a soot-sodden hearth. You watched as Lucien trudged in with a pile of wood in his arms, and knelt down before the hearth. With a flick of his hand, a fire had roared to life.

Autumn Court magic. It was rather breathtaking up-close. 

“Are you sure this place is secure?” You folded your arms around yourself, studying the cramped area from where you hovered in the doorway. “It doesn’t look like it could weather a storm.” 

“Sturdier than it looks.” Lucien glanced at you over his shoulder, his red, silken hair rippling with his movement. “And you’d be more comfortable than you look, if you sat down. You don’t need to worry, lady – I’ve sheltered here before.” 

You hesitated – not that you were actually considering running back out into the torrential downpour that had started just as you’d arrived, but because you couldn’t help being suspicious of his goodwill. He had the smooth lexis of a Vanserra, undoubtedly – you could understand why so many males and females alike seemed to worship the Autumn males. But from experience – from what you knew about Eris Vanserra’s behaviour towards your own cousin – you didn’t imagine Lucien was offering you shelter without expecting something in return. 

Slowly, you inched over to a small wooden table and perched yourself atop of it. “You didn’t answer my question.” 

Lucien rose from the hearth, his back muscles rippling through his white tunic. He rolled the sleeves up as he turned to you. “Which question would that be?” 

“I asked what an Autumn Court male was doing across the Spring border.”

“Ah – that.” He strode across the room, rifling through a leather satchel that he’d unstrapped from his horse. 

You couldn’t help watching him – admiring him. The growing flames in the hearth seemed to offset the gold of his skin and make it glow, make the corded muscles of his arms visible underneath those rolled-up sleeves. 

Something about them – watching them flex and shift with his movements – made you squeeze your legs together.

You’d definitely been on the road too long. 

“A Vanserra I may be,” He eventually said, turning back round to face you. “But I’m no longer a part of the Autumn Court. I’m emissary to the Spring Court now.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “You switched sides? Very scandalous.”

“I have a…strained relationship with my family. Namely my father.” 

“Snap. My father was a prick.” 

“Oh? Which court do you belong to?” 

Many, many times, you’d been asked that question since you’d left Velaris. People were naturally suspicious of an outsider journeying through their lands, and you’d had a run-in with so many guards, Rhys would go spare if he knew. 

But you’d managed to avoid answering – to keep your anonymity, lest anyone tip your family off to where you were. Or use you to get to them. When you were nameless, boring, the other courts saw no reason to bother with you; no reason to view you as anything other than a restless young female living a nomadic lifestyle. 

You weren’t about to falter now – particularly not in the Spring Court, of all places. Just in case High Lord Tamlin learned of your presence in his lands and came to finish off what his father had started. 

So you simply smiled at Lucien. Told him, “I belong to no one.” 

He raised an eyebrow, dragging a chair closer and perching backwards on it. “You must hail from somewhere.”

“Must I?” 

He stared at you over the back of his chair, folding his forearms against it. The breeches cut close to his legs as they hung either-side. Muscled. Thick. You wondered what they looked like beneath the material.

His gaze was…a combination of different things. Narrowed, like he was trying to puzzle you out and finding it annoying, but also amused, and – and wild. Calculating. Like he was sizing up a challenge. One side of his mouth kicked up into a smirk.

“Who are you?” He seemed desperate for the answer. 

You shrugged. Casual. Nonchalant. “My name is Y/N.” 

“And your family name?” 

“Is irrelevant.” You jumped from the table, moving closer to the fire. 

His eyes followed every one of your movements. “Is that all I get?” 

“Yep.” 

A deep, silky laugh rumbled from his chest, the sound of it reaching out to you, caressing your skin that felt like it was already freezing. It was a pleasant sound; warm and sensual. Intriguing. 

“Okay.” He murmured, standing from the chair. “In that case, would you like a drink? It’ll help you to forget that you’re cold, if nothing else.”

You rounded on him, shot him that same, close-lipped smile. “A drink sounds wonderful.”

⧪

He’d been right – the rain was coming down, vicious and hard.

Hard enough that it sounded like rocks slamming against the roof. But with the whiskey that was warming your belly, it became nothing but background noise. And the combination of intoxication, and the roaring fire, meant that you barely noticed the cold, either.

Lucien was interesting. Perhaps one of the most interesting people you’d met while travelling – or ever, really. He’d done some travelling himself, having never had any interest in being High Lord of the Autumn Court. He’d coasted from place to place and made friends with people who were supposed to be enemies. 

The two of you had taken to sitting on the floor beside the hearth, and you drank – and drank, and drank, and drank, – as he regaled you with tales of his adventures and troubles he’d gotten himself into – and out of. After an hour, it felt like you were talking to an old friend. 

You were still laughing at his latest story as he handed you the bottle of whiskey you’d been passing back and forth. Your hands briefly brushed as you accepted it, and he sat back, leaning on his palms as he watched you take a swig. 

“You said you’re going to the mortal lands?” He tilted his head. He’d loosely tied his hair back with a leather thong, but strands had already begun to fall around his face again. “Whatever for?” 

You shrugged, savouring the muted burn of the alcohol as you swallowed. “I said I wanted to see the world, and I meant it. I want to see all of it. And I have no issue with mortals. The idea of living amongst them, seeing their ways, interests me.” 

“They’ll have an issue with you. They hate our kind. They won’t want you there.”

“Well.” You smiled. Took another swig. “I’m well-versed in being unwanted.” 

That smouldering, russet stare zeroed in on you, the metal eye moving down your body and back up. The expression on his face – the one of intrigue, of challenge – had only strengthened with each topic of conversation you’d got through. You could practically feel the frustration dripping from him. The need to break through your guard. 

“Tell me about you.” He said – not for the first time. He prised the bottle from your hands, taking a swig.

“I told you already.” You smiled. “I’ve lived a sheltered life and I’m ready to see more. Which is why I’m travelling.” 

“But there’s more to tell.” 

“Of course.” You laughed softly. “Isn’t there always? But why should I tell a stranger such things?”

He smirked. “I’d quite like to know who I’ve offered to shelter with for the night. For all I know, you’ll stab me through the heart as soon as I’m asleep.”

“Well.” You scooted closer. Closer. Until your knees touched. You took the bottle from him, lifting it to your lips. “There’s a solution for that.” 

His eyes fell to your mouth. “What’s the solution?” 

“Neither of us sleep. And I won’t stab you, and you won’t stab me.”

He snorted. “And how do you suggest, lady, that we wile away the hours whilst the storm rages outside?” 

It was you staring at his mouth, then. The way one side of his lips lifted into a lopsided grin, or a sensual smirk, was something that had been slowly driving you mad and heating you all over since you’d sat down together.

You knew precisely how you wished to wile away the gods-damn hours. How you wished to keep warm. 

You pushed up onto your knees, so much closer to him like this. Close enough that you could smell the whiskey on him. “You tell me, Vanserra.” 

His head tilted. “Well…you could tell me more about who you are. Where you’ve been. What makes you…”

His words trailed off as your fingers brushed his leg. His gaze fell, watching as you danced your hand over his knee, and slowly, slowly up, over his thigh.

“Hmm?” You hummed, coaxing his eyes back to yours. So near – your fingers were so, so near to his crotch. “What makes me what?” 

He cleared his throat. Swallowed. “...What makes you…uh…tick. Or…or what interests you.”

“I could.” You nodded, stilling your hand. “I could take my hand off you right now and tell you all the boring ins and outs of my life – if that’s what you want.”

“No.”

The word was almost a snarl. You laughed breathily, your fingers climbing up his leg once more.

“So just to clarify,” You mused. “You don’t want me to stop touching–”

There was no chance to finish the sentence as Lucien surged forward and claimed your mouth in a hungry kiss. His large, warm hand cupped the back of your head, fingers slipping through the strands of your hair. He pulled you closer, nipping your bottom lip. 

The pleasant pinch of pain had you gasping – and opening up to him. He slid his tongue into your mouth, invading you with his smoky taste of whiskey and fire. While your hand continued to stroke up his leg, you moved the other to his shirt, fisting the fabric. 

“So,” You pulled away just slightly, breathing against his lips, “You want me to touch you?”

That russet eye flared. “I think I may die if you don’t.” 

You laughed softly – and pulled away as he tried to slide his lips over yours again. You were faster than him, instead place a kiss to his jaw, and then his neck, and then against the small strip of his skin that poked out from beneath his crumpled white shirt.

“I want this off.” You murmured, unfastening the buttons. You practically yanked the shirt down his arms, baring his firm, muscled chest and stomach. 

He shivered as you touched a hand to his chest – and yet his skin was so gloriously warm. You wondered if fire truly lived inside of him, if Autumn Court magic was an inferno in the veins of the Vanserras.

If he was shuddering, in fact, from your touch, rather than the cold. 

You dipped your head, licking a stripe across his pectoral muscles, and you felt him jerk just slightly beneath you, hissing between his teeth. 

“A tad sensitive, aren’t you?” You chuckled, dragging your tongue lower. Over his stomach, all the dips and lines there. 

Lucien bit down on his lip, watching you intently. “It’s kind of hard not to be with a pretty lady licking me.” 

“The pretty lady can stop if it’s too much for you.”

“Don’t you dare.” 

As if to push his point, he bucked his hips – and you smirked. You locked your eyes with his as you undid the buttons fastening his breeches. Your movements were slow, unhurried, as you tugged them down. 

The length of him sprung free. Hard. Taught. Thick and long. 

“Lucien Vanserra,” Your voice was a teasing lilt as you dipped your head, blowing a breath against the head of his cock. “Is there a part of you that isn’t beautiful?”

His breath hitched in his throat, and he seemed to be incapable of an answer as you poked out your tongue and slowly, slowly, allowed it to touch the very tip of his cock. 

“Gods.”  He gritted his teeth, his hips jerking. In an attempt to steady himself, he slammed a hand down on the floor – and sent the bottle of whiskey flying.

Neither of you paid it any mind as the liquid sloshed onto the ground. 

“Very sensitive, indeed.” You hummed. And took him into your mouth.

The groan that ripped through his throat was animalistic. His other hand landed on the back of your head, twisting within your hair as you took him in further, further, until the head of his cock touched the back of your throat. 

“Oh fuck.” He hissed. “I am not going to last.”

Your answering chuckle was a delicious vibration as you slowly moved up again, tracing your tongue over the bold, sensitive vein that seemed to already be pulsing and throbbing. You wrapped your hand around the base of him and returned your attention to the head, where you swirled your tongue, and put the slightest of pressures on the little indentation just beneath. Lucien’s head fell back, a moan and a string of curses falling from his lips.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He gasped. 

“Right there?” You smirked, pressing your tongue against the indentation again. 

“You have no idea—gods.” His hips bucked once, twice, and then he was spilling into your mouth, his groans and growls utterly feral, guttural. 

You swallowed every drop of him, allowing him to take the reins as he gripped onto your hair and fucked into your mouth, the waves of his release barreling through him with such force, he trembled. His cock was still twitching, his breaths heaving, as he pulled out of your mouth and stared at you. 

“Who are you?” He breathed, repeating his earlier words. “The fucking Mother must have sent you to me.”

You snorted. “Well that was fun.” 

He cocked an eyebrow. “If you think I’m done with you yet, you’re very much mistaken. I can smell how wet you are from here.” 

Oh. You didn’t doubt he could. You were dripping in your underwear, clenching your thighs together for any little, pathetic bit of friction. Lucien smirked wickedly at you. 

“Your turn, lady.” 

You let yourself fall back, and you were tingling all over as he moved to hover over you. Each bit of clothing he removed was replaced with the brushing off his lips – over your breasts, your nipples, your stomach, as he pulled your shirt off and threw it aside. The cold air immediately made your nibbles pebble, and you felt him smirk against you, his teeth grazing the sensitive nubs.

He was hardening against you already. You reached down, wanting to feel him again, to hear those delicious noises–

“Uh-uh, not yet.” He chuckled deeply, his lips brushing over your navel. “I want to have some fun with you first.”

Any response you could come up with completely eddied from your mind as he yanked your breeches and underwear down in one go – fabric ripping and buttons flying everywhere. 

“Oops.” He murmured, chucking them behind him. “Sorry.”

You sucked in a sharp breath as the cold air hit your now-exposed centre. “You don’t sound very—oh gods.”

He didn’t hesitate – not for a second. His breath was warm against you, wayward strands of his hair tickling your skin as he dipped his head. 

And licked a strip right up your centre. 

You immediately fisted those strands of hair within your hands, tugging just slightly. Your hips bucked as his tongue slowly licked up, up towards your clit. 

“Who’s the sensitive one now?” Lucien chuckled deeply, and the sound was pure, molten lava that spread through you and licked its way over your body. 

His tongue swirled your clit, the tip of it flicking right over that hyper-sensitive spot. You were gasping, writhing, your head falling back and your back arching. 

“Oh fuck.” If this was what a Vanserra could do with his mouth, you wanted all of them, at once, immediately. You bucked your hips towards him, a moan ripping through you as he sucked on your clit – and inserted a finger into you. “Gods–Lucien.”

You were gonna cum—and fall off the world, and not stop falling. There wasn’t a part of you that didn’t feel perfect, and ecstatic, and like lightning all over–

But then he just stopped. Pulled his finger out of you. Slid his mouth off you. 

You yanked your head up from the floor, a whine of pure desperation escaping you as you met his eyes.

Lucien was smirking down at you. Fisting at his cock. He pumped it once, twice, and lined it up with your centre. 

“As much as I want to taste you cumming on my tongue,” He said wickedly. “I think I want you to cum on my cock more.” 

A rasp escaped you as you felt the head of his cock press against your entrance. “Why can’t it be both?” 

He chuckled. “We have all night.” 

And then he pushed into you. 

In, and in, and in. It was never-ending, that feeling. The feeling of being stretched, and filled, and torn apart and put back together again. 

Lucien’s mouth fell open, a breath falling from his lips as he glanced down, his brow furrowed in full concentration – and desire – as he watched himself push into you. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He hissed. He stilled, just for a moment – just to give you a chance to adjust. Because you were tight; tight all over. You grabbed his hand and moved it to your breast, and he squeezed.

And then he pulled back out of you. And slammed back in, right to the hilt. 

The noise was like no other you’d ever made in your life. Your head fell back, and your mouth opened with a string of moans. Never had you sounded so consumed, so sultry and raspy and sexy.

And it seemed to be driving Lucien Vanserra wild. 

His thrusts were hard and fast, relentless and frenzied, as he slammed into you. You could have sworn you felt it – him – in every part of your body. Could have sworn you just about died as he kissed you, and moaned into your mouth.

You moved one hand to his perfectly sculpted ass, encouraging his thrusts. His lips latched onto your neck as his pace picked up – more and more and more, until you could feel yourself beginning to crumble. 

“Fuck,” Lucien choked, slamming his hand against the floor – giving himself more purchase to thrust harder, faster. “Cum, Y/N—I can feel you clenching around my cock.” 

And gods, you were. Clenching and writhing and completely falling apart. It was too much, too good–

You broke completely when he reached down and pressed a thumb to your clit. That was all it took. 

Release barreled through you, so ferocious that you couldn’t form any words – only moan after moan after moan, and you were shaking, gripping and scratching at Lucien’s skin.

You dug your nails in – hard. And Lucien thrust in once more. He went rigid against you as an animalistic growl rumbled out of him.

“Gods…Holy fucking Gods.” He gasped, spilling and spilling and spilling into you. He was twitching inside you, and shaking against you, his hands hard and bruising on your thighs, your hips. 

You could only stare up at him. Try to catch your breath. But you were spent. Truly and utterly fucked out. If your eyes were as glazed and cheeks as flushed as his were, you wouldn’t be at all surprised. 

“Gods.” He said again, and pulled out of you with a shudder. “That was…gods.” 

“Yes.” You whispered breathlessly. “Gods.”

The cottage was suddenly silent – aside from that hammering rain, and the heavy breathing coming from both of you. Lucien sat back, his golden cheeks a rosy pink. He seemed stunned by the force of his own release. 

You turned your head to look at him from where you still lay on the floor, and you smirked. 

“This was a much better idea than sheltering under a tree.”

⧪

You awoke to sunlight streaming through the dirty windows. 

The sky outside was a cerulean blue — the storm well and truly passed. 

You were achy from a night sleeping – and fucking – on a hard floor…but the ache was satisfying. Pleasant. 

You rolled over to find Lucien still asleep beside you, beautiful and unguarded. His red hair had completely broken from the knot he tied it into, and it splayed around him like flames. A sudden urge rose in you to reach out and touch it. To trace your fingers over his brow and across the jagged line of his scar.

But you simply watched for a while. Last night was the first time in a long, long time you’d felt so good. So…wanted.

And because of a fucking Vanserra, of all the males in Prythian. The thought made you snort. If Rhys knew about this—or Cassian or Azriel—

No. You couldn’t think about them. Couldn’t let yourself get off course, just because of one night of incredible, earth-shattering pleasure. You needed to get back on track and complete your journey to The Wall. You could be in the mortal lands by night time. 

You rose from your spot, moving carefully and silently as you stepped around Lucien’s sleeping figure and retrieved your clothes. A tad dirty and ripped, but you could make do until you got to the other side of The Wall. 

You dressed quickly, and then grabbed your bag that sat beside Lucien’s leather satchel. You threw one glance back at him before you headed to the door. 

You’d barely set a foot out of it before you heard a rustle behind you. 

“You’re leaving?” Lucien croaked, his voice heavy with sleep. 

“I want to get to The Wall before it gets too dark.” You told him. “But thank you—for helping me. For offering me shelter. And for…”

“The ground-breaking orgasms?” He propped himself up on his elbow. Gazed at you. “Stay. Tell me more about you. I know your name, but I want to know who you are.”

That guarded, close-lipped smile returned to your face. “Can’t. It’s a secret.” 

“But–”

“Perhaps we’ll cross paths again someday.” You smirked, stepping out onto the wet soil. “Goodbye, Lucien Vanserra.” 

You didn’t wait for his reply as you shut the door behind you and headed off into the forest.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[heliads]

Okay, so I didn't think anyone wrote for Hiccup till I saw your Hiccup x norse goddess thing, and I was hoping you could maybe do a part two? Where like, she visits again, but when she arrives, Thor arrives (same personality as MCU Thor), and they're good siblings, but they tease each other and have a sparring match, flexing their magic, and Hiccup and Stoick are just speechless, and Gobber just teases Hiccup with something like "So this is the type of woman you get to have when you're the almighty Dragon Conqueror" thank you in advance!

love the surge in hiccup requests we're having rn

part one / masterlist / part three

True to your word, you stay away from Berk. You’re used to staying alone for centuries, with no company but the relentless wear of the waves and the occasional drowned souls who make their way through to your kingdom in the sea. Each storm-tossed sailor has a story to tell before they go to the land of the dead, and you hear their lives as you always do. You watch the salt water eat away at everything but your stubbornly immortal body, and although it has never troubled you, it does now.

Maybe it’s because you got a little too used to what it was like up there, above the shore. Now that you’ve lived a little, seen rocky coastlines and loved them not for the waters that beat them but the people who walk them, you don’t quite feel the same. Mainly, though, you feel different because you met a boy, and left him.

You can’t seem to stop yourself from thinking about him. Gods aren’t supposed to get attached to mortals, or if they do, they’re supposed to lose interest after a few weeks. It’s been months now, months after you first left your ocean to visit Berk in the first place and months since you left it. Still, you turn your memories of that place over and over in your head, polishing them just as well as any piece of seaglass sparkling on the beaches.

Hiccup thinks about you too, you can tell. The sea dragons whisper to you sometimes, telling you of a boy with dark brown hair hanging in his eyes, who stands at the edge of the cliffline where you’d left and stares into the water for hours, hoping to see a face looking back at him that isn’t his own.

No matter how hard Hiccup searches, though, he never sees you. You’ve made sure of that. Odin only sent you to him as a messenger and questioner, and although he never went to the trouble of warning you away from him, it was implied that you would conduct your business and leave. No one told you what to do when the seas suddenly seemed empty and alone, when instead of exploring every corner of the ocean you only dream of a life up above.

You swore that you wouldn’t go back unless asked, though. Hiccup said that he’d extend an invitation, and about six months later, he does. The letter comes locked away inside a protective shield of rock, a cylinder about the height of a small dagger that’s clearly been chiseled away by hand so as to keep the paper inside safe from the water.

You open it in the relative safety of an air bubble, willing the water away with nothing more than a thought. Your fingers trace the letters, the splashes of ink. Hiccup wants you back, he says. Well, he doesn’t put it quite so plainly.

Instead, he talks to you about the dragons, what he’s seen since you left and what he forgot to mention in the months you spent on his island. Apparently, the same friends who were so easy to judge on your first day won’t stop talking about you. Even Astrid laughs over how quickly she dismissed you, and has been practicing in preparation for the next time you visit.

If you chose to visit, that is. Despite the fact that Hiccup’s gone to the trouble of contacting you, he still seems unwilling to commit to anything, least of all showing the emotion to hope you’ll come again. He doesn’t have to hide anything, though- you can sense it, the yearning melancholy that lingers around Berk. You miss him just as much, and so you make up your mind to go back, just as Hiccup asked.

Before you can embark on your journey, though, a flash of light rippling through your undersea kingdom indicates that a god is about to arrive at your home. Curious, you watch the glowing aura widen into the silhouette of a man. Could Odin have found out about your latest decision and sent someone to stop you? It’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, gods visit mortals all the time.

This isn’t Odin, though, it’s your brother. Thor, god of thunder, is considered by many gods to be either a hero or a nuisance, a braggart and a courageous warrior and someone who is dangerous to be around but especially so when he’s worked his way through a few rounds of mead.

To you, he’s all of those combined, plus a friend. You raise an eyebrow at him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Thor grins broadly. “I figured it had been a while since I last saw my favorite sister, and I wanted to change that.”

You laugh. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be picking favorites among any gods. We get offended all the time.”

Thor shrugs. “If anyone attempted to challenge me on it, I would meet them gladly in brutal combat and win.”

You roll your eyes, but do so through a smile. Although you and Thor can seem like complete opposites, it’s good to see him, and you say as much.

Thor nods gravely. “Of course it’s good to see me. We are family, after all.”

You give him a look. “That doesn’t have to mean anything. So, are you just here on a catch-up, or-”

Thor shakes his head dramatically, and shocks of thunder can be heard even down here, miles below the sea line. “No, I’m afraid not. You have seen through me, sister. I heard that you recently went to visit the Dragon Conqueror and I wanted to hear the news.”

A plan is forming in your mind, and you grin at the thought of it. “Actually, Thor, I’ve got something even better. I was planning on paying Berk another visit. Would you want to come with me to check out the Dragon Conqueror for yourself?”

Thor beams ear to ear, brighter than a shock of lightning. “I would like nothing more. I do hope this Dragon Conqueror is up to a challenge.”

You chuckle to yourself. Hiccup’s going to kill you for this. Or think about it, maybe. He’s not enough an idiot to actually attempt to murder an immortal. “Oh, I bet he is.”

A small crowd is awaiting you at the shoreline when you finally walk up from the waves. Hiccup walks quickly to your side, looking happier than you’ve seen him in a while.

“Y/N! I’m glad to see that you could make it.”

He pauses a moment, then confides something in a whisper so no one else can hear it. “I missed you.”

You reach out to touch him gently on the shoulder. “I missed you too.”

And you have. The sea has never felt so lonely, so quiet. Already, even after having been here a mere couple of moments, you feel more alive than you have since you left.

Thunder rumbles overhead, and you smile. “Oh, I forgot to mention something. Would you mind if I bring a guest?”

Hiccup nods slowly. “Sure. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Out of curiosity, who’s coming?”

You tilt your head towards the sky as lightning flashes. “Thor.”

Beside you, Hiccup blanches. “Wait, you mean-”

The rest of his words are drowned out by a crackle of thunder, loud enough to roll across the island and bend the trees from the sheer force of the sound. Moments later, a god is standing beside you, clad in a warrior’s armor and carrying a hammer engraved with intricate symbols, heavy enough to crash through anyone’s skull.

You glance over at him. “Bit dramatic of an entrance, don’t you think?”

Thor scoffs. “You have no sense of the gravity of the situation. I’d say that I was just fine. If anything, it was a little tame.”

Hiccup’s friends have started to come over, attracted by the arrival of an unexpected god. Astrid is trying her best not to seem overly impressed, but her eyes keep going wide.

“Are you-”

Thor nods gravely. “Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, Hlóriði, Scion of Asgard, Wielder of Mjolnir-”

You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “Alright, alright. They get the point.”

You’re not sure who looks more surprised, the Vikings that you’re able to interrupt Thor so easily or Thor that you’d stop him when he was just getting started.

Hiccup is the first to speak. “Well, Thor, it is an honor to have you on our island.”

Thor just grins. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Visiting mortals is a fun little hobby of mine. Besides, didn’t you conquer dragons or something? I’m a big fan of that.”

Hiccup glances over at you questioningly, and you bite back a grin. “I’m glad the two of you are hitting it off so nicely. Thor, how about we head further into the village? I’m sure there are a few other warriors who would just love to meet you.”

Thor’s face brightens. “An excellent idea. I shall see you there.”

He starts up the path and you follow him, chuckling. You weren’t entirely sure how well this would go, but you’re not sure you mind it. Besides, it’s so good to be back that you’re okay with Thor being dramatic. You’ve barely exchanged a few words with Hiccup, but just being able to see him again is enough for you. Gods aren’t supposed to lose themselves on mortals, but you’re starting to think that it’s a little late for that now.

The other Vikings fall into rank beside you, and you and Astrid start talking about various comings and goings of the world. The two of you quickly became friends despite the mishap of your first visit, and you’re fairly sure that both of you would be glad to move on from it. Besides, Astrid brings news of all the times she’s caught Hiccup moping around waiting for you to return, which thrills you a little more than it should.

Despite your conversation, you can still pick up snatches of whispers behind you. Hiccup and Gobber are talking, and you think they’re talking about you.

Right now, Gobber’s chortling to himself. “Honestly, my boy, I don’t know how you do it. First this business with the dragons, then taking over more leadership roles from your father, and getting people to agree. You’re doing well for yourself.”

Hiccup smiles quietly. “Well, I appreciate your thoughts. It’s been hard, sure, but-”

Gobber elbows him in the side, a gesture that was likely intended to be friendly but ends up shoving Hiccup a few inches to the side. “Oh, it looks good now, doesn’t it? You’ve got Thor on your own doorstep, plus the queen of the seas visiting for fun. So this is the type of woman you get to have when you’re the almighty Dragon Conqueror. Maybe I need to look into doing some of that myself.”

Hiccup’s eyes are wide, and he seems unable to respond. You turn back to Astrid with a grin that hadn’t been there before. Maybe this visit will be more fun than you’d imagined.

disney tag list: @lovesanimals0000

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Free Write #4:  Lightbulb

Cut for mention of child slavery.

Astrid stared out of the carriage.  Her mouth opened--then closed, then opened again, as she tried to process what she was seeing.

“This...this isn’t the right address.” 

“AcCoRDinG tO rEcOrDs, thIS IS tHe dEsInGaTED HOme OF CaMiLLa DEgLaSs aNd KaRi deGLaSS.”  The mammet-brain empowered carriage responded.  Astrid stared at the viewscreen, then stared back out of the window.  In a numb sort of horror she undid the door latch and stepped out, her eyes taking in the desolation around her.

This...this can’t be right.  Roderick and Emma’s manor on the outside--once beautiful white marble with lush greenery and colorful flowers...it was now pitch black.  Everything in the yard was dead--brown grass, wilted flowers, broken trees.  An air of neglect hung over the property..and to Astrid’s senses, it didn’t feel recent.  It didn’t look recent. 

Didn’t Bartaz approve a monthly expenditure some time back for property upkeep?  The thought careened wildly about in her mind as Astrid stepped forward to the gates.  She was grateful for her gloves, the amount of rust and decay on the wrought-iron bars made her skin crawl.  There was no lock, and with an unholy screech of metal-on-metal, Astrid was able to push her way inside.  Only too late did she remember the security wards, and the older woman braced herself...

But nothing happened.  No shields, no golem-guards--nothing.  No protective measures at all.  When Astrid reached out--she felt only the broken husks of the spell-foci, their power drained long ago.  Reeling from the implications, Astrid spun around on a boot, taking in the broken and ruined yard.

My lady...I’m sorry to bother you on this.  But there’s something that’s come to my attention that I think you should be made aware of.  Bartaz’s voice, whispering in her ear.  Bile rose in Astrid’s stomach, but she made herself start to walk, keep walking--towards the front porch.

There seems to be something wrong with Camilla’s paperwork.

No security on the front door, a twist of the knob and she was inside--inside and the horror show continued, the smell of mold, mildew, decay and rot filling Astrid’s nose.  Paint and wallpaper peeling, ruined floor planks--

And no furnishings.  No light.  No warmth.  The home that Roderick and Emma had created--carefully chosen antiques and art...gone.  Empty frames--the paintings cut out of them.  Empty bookshelves, dust lining them and the tabletops.  Somehow she’d ended up in Roderick’s study, and Astrid had nearly screamed from horror and despair.  Her son’s books, his beautifully carved wooden desk-and the tapestry map of Eorzea he’d commissioned, she remembered how he’d give Kari geography lessons using it...gone, gone...

Kari.  The realization was a jolt of ice-water down Astrid’s spine.  Where was her granddaughter?  There was no evidence of a child present--no shoes, no cape at the front door-no teen related debris--bookbag, papers...nothing.

My lady, please!  Helena’s tear-filled voice.  Please, I beg you!  Something’s not right!

Wards at the windows and another at the front door if she dared to stretch out her senses--and now Astrid reeled, blood magic and malice threatening to overwhelm her.  Spells to entrap and punish one who dared to fight back--but that wasn’t right, that wasn’t right at all!

You know her! You love her as if you were the one to carry her and birth her!  Why are you listening to that fel-ridden harridan?! Why are you believing her?!

The moogle, thrusting a letter into her face-

Emergency, kupo-kupo!

Her granddaughter’s words on the paper-

Grandmother please, I beg you--do not believe what my stepmother has said about me being a most wicked child--

Dimly Astrid heard the clink of bottles and the murmur of voices.  Now she moved-ran back through the halls and down the stairs to the kitchen.  Here was light, warmth--and Camilla and her crony, sitting at the center table.  A feast was spread out before them, roasted meat, vegetables, warm bread and stew, with glasses full of red wine.  The crony paused mid-chew, a strip of meat dangling from his mouth as he stared at Astrid witlessly.  Camilla blanched in horror--and Astrid saw the gil-purse in front of her daughter in law.

She plans to sell me-

Bartaz and Helena’s voices in her ears, an unholy cacophony of warning, and the now fast-burning realization that she’d been in the wrong, she was so horribly wrong, had been wrong all these years--  Astrid opened her mouth, and the voice that came from her throat didn’t sound like hers.

“WHERE. IS. MY. GRANDDAUGHTER?!”

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - 24

Hello everyone! Here we are with chapter 24

It’s winter in Orynth and the guys have a busy day. Rowan and Lorcan enjoy their ride with the team and we also have some Elorcan gossip.

Rowan and Lorcan also talk and we discover something about Lyria...

Have fun!

The following morning Aelin woke up abruptly and missed the warm body at her side and curled under the duvet in a human burrito.

“Ro?” She called with just her head peeking from under her cover.

A moment later he sat down in bed offering her a cup of coffee.

“Cold.”

He leaned over to kiss her “it snowed last night. There’s over a metre of snow outside.”

“Lovely,” she protested “heaters fires, accidents, roof collapses due to snow, slips, more road accidents, pile ups.”

“Doom and gloom this early in the morning?”

She groaned and grabbed the coffee, sitting up with still the duvet all around her “I love snow and winter, but on my day off.” She took a sip of her coffee “house fires increase wildly. All those mantlepieces not properly attended. Electrical fires because too many appliances are connected to an outlet. And let’s not forget carbon monoxide related deaths. Such a magical time.”

“We’ll build a snowman when you are off shift.”

Then he offered her a plate full of scrambled eggs and bacon.

“You definitely know how to woo a woman.” She grabbed the plate and tucked in happily.

“You and Lorcan need to stay on the truck. No matter what’s going on outside.”

Rowan nodded “we will.” And he kissed her head. He was really looking forward to ride with the team.

An hour later they were walking across the yard in front of the station when Lorcan and Elide arrived as well. Together. Hand in hand.

Aelin tugged Rowan gently and he nodded.

“Arriving together?” Joked Aelin “naughty, naughty girl.”

Elide smiled “yes, I slept at Lorcan’s. Guilty.”

“Hey, I am just happy for you two.” 

The four walked into the station and while Elide and Aelin went to get changed, the two men went to the common room where some members of the team were already there.

“The posh boys are here.” Shouted Aedion as soon as they stepped in.

Rowan bowed “indeed we are.” Then he noticed two new women and went to introduce himself “Hi, I am Rowan.”

“This is Borte, our new truck candidate,” Aedion went to the woman’s side and made the introductions “he is the captain’s flying boy,” then he pointed at Lorcan “grumpy pants over here is Lorcan. He grunts a lot but does not bite. And he’s Elide’s.”

Rowan burst out laughing.

“This young lady here is Evangeline.” And he moved to the side of the blonde-haired woman “she is our paramedic in training. She is riding with Lys and Elide.”

Rowan greeted her back and she gave him a timid smile.

Aelin arrived a moment later and went to give a kiss on the cheek of her cousin “did you remove all the snow from the entrance all alone?”

“No, he had two minions.” Said Brullo sprawled on the sofa watching tv “the man is a tyrant.”

“My arms are useless.” Complained Ress.

Aelin patted both on the shoulders “well, better get ready for a busy day. From the pile of reports I have on my desk from second shift it looks like we are in for a treat.”

“Are truck and engine all stocked up and ready?”

Aedion nodded “I did a check and we are good.”

“Lys and Elide are doing a final check on the ambulance for supplies.”

In that instant dispatch alarm went off calling all units of east station on site for a structure fire.

“Here we go guys.” They all scrambled, wore their gear and reached the trucks.

“You two, in there and stay put, ok?”

The two men nodded.

The trucks left the station and Rowan felt a thrill run through his spine.

“What’s a structure fire?”

“Bad news,” joked Brullo at Rowan’s side.

“Or usually, what we call Monday.” Added Aelin never averting the eyes from the road.

Rowan stared at Nox driving and was impressed at the skill. He navigated busy intersections with confidence.

Aelin honked the horn a few times “move, you idiots.” The traffic peeled to the side and the engine resumed its run swiftly.

Once they arrived at the site Rowan gasped. The fire had enveloped the entire house.

“That is a structure fire,” said Aelin and the team got off truck and engine and Aelin started to give orders.

“Manon, Luca, venting the back.”

“Wes you are taking second floor with me. Aedion, Kyllian, Nox, you go to the first floor. Borte you go with them and stick to Aedion. Asterin, Ansel, you do ground floor. Brullo, Ren you are at the water lines. We need to be quick.”

Both Rowan and Lorcan were watching the scene speechless.

“I know she does this on a daily basis, but seeing her jumping into a building on fire is different than just imagining it.”

Dorian arrived on the scene a moment later and got an update from Brullo and Ren who were ready with the water lines.

“Chief, captain, you have two minutes to finish primary search and rescue then you all evacuate.” He looked up at the fire and flinched “Manon, how’s that venting going?”

“Venting now, sir.”

Temporary relief washed over him when he saw Nox run out with a woman in tow.

Lorcan’s eyes set on Elide, jumping in the woman’s rescue with Lysandra.

Rowan stared as more firefighters came out with people but never Aelin. He noticed Dorian staring at the fire nervously “Evacuate now.” He ordered over the radio. The chief must have noticed a change in the fire to call for abandoning the rescue. Rowan followed in fascination trying to remember some of the thing about fire he had read in Aelin’s books.

Aelin was walking low, almost crawling looking for people hiding below the smoke “fire department call out.”

“I am all clear, we need to go.” Said Wesley at her back.

Aelin had a last look around and was about to leave the room when she heard a voice “Wes, get out. I got this.”

“Cap, we need to go. The chief ordered us to evacuate.”

“Wes, get out.” She shouted and left, running to the locked door where she heard the voice coming from.

She gave her back to the door and kicked it open. Then she turned and saw a crib and inside there was a toddler. 

“Aelin, get the hell out now.” Dorian’s voice came over the radio. She picked up the boy and squeezed him in her fire jacket and held him close for protection.

“Come on… come on…” Rowan heard Dorian’s order and his heart was racing painfully. Why wasn’t she listening?

Then he saw it the flareup in her floor and shouted “Aelin, please…”

Aelin looked around the room and realised the flashover had cut off her only exit route. Then ran to the window and with her elbow she smashed the glass all while holding the infant.

“There!” shouted someone from a lower level.

“Ress, move the aerial to her.” 

Aelin leaned over and sat astride on the window ledge.

Aedion ran up the aerial and grabbed the toddler “I got him, get your arse in here.”

She was about to fully climb over when another flashover rocked the house and Aelin got thrown off balance and grabbed the ledge with her hands and hung there.

Aedion saw her and ran back up “give me a hand.” The man grabbed a hand and pulled her over on the aerial.

“You are fucking crazy.” He told her quietly.

She followed him down and she was on the street again.

“I said evacuate.” Shouted Dorian.

“Don’t.” She bit back “I saved that boy’s life.” 

“Sit.” Dorian ordered her. Aelin removed her mask and marched off to sit against the truck, rotating her shoulders to ease the pain.

Lysandra passed her a bottle of water “are you okay?”

Aelin nodded while drinking eagerly and watching while the rest of the team put the fire out.

Rowan opened the door of the engine and went to her “you are insane. And I think I almost lost it in there.”

“I am fine.” She told him quietly extending her hand to him.

He marched back in the engine, joining Lorcan.

“Do you still think women can’t do dangerous jobs?” He bit back. A part of him was a bit mad at Aelin. What she did had been insane. But he could not ignore the deep sense of pride he had in her. He was utterly in love with a super badass woman. He watched as the team slowly wrapped up their jobs. Dorian had called for a secondary search and they were getting out the burnt down house right now. Aelin still sitting on the front bumper of the truck grounded by Dorian.

He looked at her and smiled. She was covered in soot but she still looked stunning to him. Rowan turned his head and saw Lorcan still studying Elide while she went from victim to victim and checked them out with Lysandra.

“I think I am badly in love with Elide.” He said very, very quietly.

“You what?”

“You heard me, Whitethorn. Don’t make me say it twice.”

“Would it be so bad?” Asked Rowan, sitting beside him.

“I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Well, don’t.” In that instant the door opened and the team climbed back in. He took a seat behind Aelin and with his hand extended he brushed her cheek and she took his hand gently “did you enjoy the show?”

“It was literally terrifying.”

“Main to all units. Car accident on Southside. Multiple vehicles involved.”

“Copy that main, east station is en route. Dispatch an ambulance on site. Our one is on its way to Orynth general.” Replied Aelin over the radio.

“Copy that east. We are sending an ambulance to assist.”

“Punch it, Nox.”

“You two boys are in for a ride. A nice fire and a car pile-up. We just need a chemical spillage and most of the fun is complete.”

“Don’t jink it,” said Asterin from behind.

They drove for a short distance and at the site Rowan looked out of the window and saw a few cars all smashed against each other.

Aelin and the team got off engine and truck and she patted at his window and blew him a kiss and ran away.

Seeing her in action he suddenly realised why she ate so much.

“Luca, you come with me we’ll take the upturned car.” She shouted at the youngster “Aedion, take the red one with Ansel and Borte. Everyone spread and take the other cars. Remember fuel leaks.”

Luca grabbed his tools and started trying to pry open the door. 

Aelin kneeled down and checked the woman “I need a c-collar,” she screamed to the paramedics.

The woman’s head was bloodied, she checked the pulse through the cracked window and found it weak and she was not breathing.

Luca finally did manage to get the door open and together they pulled it away. Aelin sneaked into the front of the car and pulled the collar around the woman’s neck.

Lysandra and Elide were back from the hospital run and joined them ready and waiting for their patient.

“Aelin, you need to pull her out quickly.”

“I know,” snapped Aelin trying to cut the belt. Once the belt was free she realised the woman’s legs were stuck.

“Luca, I need spreaders. Right now.” She told him and the young man ran to the truck to grab the tool. He came back and with some acrobatics Aelin placed the tool in the area where the pedals were and started separating the metal. “As soon as she is free grab her.”

The metal slowly bent and freed the woman’s legs. “Go.” Luca took the woman and passed her in the care of the paramedics.

“Evangeline, grab an intubation kit and intubate the woman.”

The young woman nodded and Aelin stared with worry.

Once she was intubated Elide and Lysandra continued to do all possible to revive the woman. Aelin and Luca towered over them ready to help if needed.

She saw them use a defibrillator.

“Pushing epi.” She heard Elide say and Aelin knew from her emergency medical training that it was bad.

She paced nervously running a hand in her dirty hair. She took stock of the situation and noticed a few people out of the cars and being helped out and looked after by the other ambulances. Good at least the others did manage to save someone.

Aelin heard the long continuous beep of a flat line and realised the woman did not make it. Then she heard Lysandra calling it.

“Sorry, Aelin.”

Luca was at her side in an instant “cap, we did all we could.”

“Well, it was not enough.” She snapped while in her head she started going through all she could have done differently.

“Aelin,” Lysandra stood to face her friend “there was very little you could have done differently.” Knowing exactly where her friend’s mind had wandered off “She was in bad shape already. We did all we could, as Luca said.”

Dorian joined them a moment later “Aelin, come.”

They moved to the side “Get it out of the system quickly. Yes, you lost one person and it hurts, but I kept an eye on you and you haven’t done anything that I wouldn’t have done myself. You tried. But that was the car in worst shape.” He patted her shoulder “think about the boy you saved from the fire. Think about the second chance you gave him.”

Aelin nodded and walked away and joined her team in packing up all the gear once they were done. 

Once she climbed back on the engine she looked at Rowan and his expression was full of worry for her. Gods, she just wanted to melt in his arms for ten minutes and shut down everything. She felt his hand sneak in the space between seat and door and try to grab hers. He didn’t say anything. He just held her hand.

They arrived back at the station not long after.

Aelin got off the engine and started removing her turnout gear.

“Aedion, take Borte and show her the checks to do to the engines after a call. I’ll take the equipment. Before heading to their duties they all ran to the bathrooms to remove the layers of soot and dirt from the two calls.

Once everyone had stored their gear Aelin hid in the room for equipment and began doing her checks and clean it. She needed some time alone.

Ten minutes later a head of silver hair peeked through the open door “hey,” he said quietly.

“Come in,” she said to him and Rowan took a step in and sat on the bench at her side.

“I am in awe.” His knuckles brushed her cheek “I had an idea of what you guys did, but seeing it for real. I was amazed. But also utterly terrified.”

“I could not help that woman, though.” She said sadly, placing a mask on the ground “she died.”

“Fireheart, I heard what Dorian said and I agree. I am sure you did all you could. Her car looked in pretty banged up state from my corner. If she survived it would have been a big damn miracle.”

“I know,” she let out a loose breath “I know.” Her head heavy against a jacket “it’s just not easy. I knew she was in bad conditions but I still wanted to save her.”

“Come here.” He pulled her to him “I have a piece of gossip for you.”

Her head whipped to him and he saw a smile finally appear.

“Lorcan admitted to me he thinks he is badly in love with Elide.”

Aelin’s hand went to her mouth in surprise “this is big.”

Rowan nodded “I don’t think he told her yet. He is just worried he will mess it up.”

“He’d better not. Elide has strong feelings for him as well. He breaks her heart and I will have his head.”

He nodded “I have been keeping an eye on him.”

“Good, now go back to the others and let me finish.”

He leaned forward and kissed her deeply. Aelin dropped what she had in her hands and once free they grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer to her and then on top of her as she leaned back on the bench. He caged her head between his arms and was about to kiss her again when dispatch alarm went off.

“Really?” She stood quickly and kisses him “stay at the station.” He nodded and she ran out. And he walked out slowly and joined Lorcan and both men stared at the vehicles leave the floor.

“Are they alway this busy? They have been back for forty minutes.”

Rowan sighed “Aelin mentioned this morning that with snow, things tend to get busier.” Then he had an idea “ever built a snowman?”

Lorcan rolled his eyes “yes, I was a kid once too, remember?”

“Get your coat back on and come with me.”

Once both men were ready with warm clothes Rowan walked outside to the front of the fire station near the entrance “Here.” Said Rowan pointing at the spot.

“Here what?”

“The snowman. To cheer them up. They had a stressful morning and probably it will not slow down.”

Lorcan tied his hair and started rolling the snow to form a ball for the body. Rowan smiled and joined him, preparing a second one. Once Lorcan had the bottom part ready, Rowan lifted the second one on top and both started fixing the body to give it an even shape. Then Rowan created a smaller ball for the head. Once done he lifted the final piece and took a step back to look at their work “not too bad.”

Lorcan removed his scarf and placed it around the snowman’s neck. Then Rowan ran back inside in Aelin’s office and grabbed the plastic fake firefighter hat he had won the day they did drills, got back and placed it on the snowman. Finally they gave him eyes and a mouth and Lorcan added some wooden sticks at the side so that they looked like arms.

Rowan looked around and then spotted something more he could add. He ran to a corner and picked up an abandoned tool.

“What is that?”

Rowan lifted the tool “I think Aelin called it an Halligan bar. The guys use it to pry open things.” He explained placing it near the sticky hand of the snowman “now he looks perfect.”

Once they were done the two men went back into the station and decided to prepare a meal for them “they must be famished.”

Lorcan nodded “I agree. Let’s prepare a nice meal.”

They were halfway through making lunch when they heard the trucks finally return and both ran outside, and only truck and engine appeared. The ambulance must have gone to the hospital.

Rowan’s eyes landed on a wet Aelin, her body wrapped in a few thick blankets. He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her frame. She was freezing and he felt her shiver and her teeth clattering “What happened?” His hands brushed her back quickly.

“We had two calls. Another fire and then a kid who fell in the water while skating on the frozen lake in a park. Aelin grabbed the kid but fell in when the rope dropped.” Explained Aedion.

As on pure instinct Rowan got into action. He took Aelin and dragged her to her quarters “we need to get you out of those wet clothes.”

She stood in front of him shaking and hugging the blankets against her body. Slowly he helped her remove all the layers until she was stark naked in front of him.

“Any..” teeth clattering “any excuse to get me naked.” Her tone was deep with tiredness.

He chuckled and went to the shower block to grab some towels and once back he begun drying her up.

“I’ll be back in a second.” Rowan disappeared once more and this time went to Aedion “do you have any spare clothes for Aelin?”

The man nodded and he was back a few minutes later with a pile of dry clothes in his hands “how is she doing?”

“Trying to warm her up.” He was about to move away when he turned to the man “what the heck happened?”

“Aelin wanted Borte to practice with the ropes in a real situation so she had Borte drop her in the ice crack to help the boy. The girl lost hold of the rope. It happened so fast that I was not quick enough to grab her,” he explained “She kept diving in in the cold water until she grabbed the boy. Only once he was safe she let us help her out.”

“You should have taken her to the hospital.” Rowan bit back annoyed.

“Don’t you think we tried?” Aedion matched him in tone “she is stubborn. She refused treatment.” 

Rowan growled and grabbed the clothes “thanks for this.” And ran back to her quarters.

Aelin was sitting on her bed, the blankets still wrapped around her.

“I have dry clothes for you.”

“I have spare bra and knickers in my locker. The combination is your birthday.” Her speech was slow and he could feel her exhaustion.

Rowan gave her a smirk and rushed out once again and returning not long after with the garments.

“My underwear doesn’t scare you anymore?”

Rowan chuckled “we live together and I have seen enough of your daring lingerie not to be affected.”

Aelin slowly dressed up again and when she was done Rowan pulled back the blankets and pushed her legs under and finished drying her hair “now you relax, I’ll see if I can get some hot food for you.” A gentle kiss on her head.

Rowan then went to Lorcan and asked him to make something hot for her. She was still shivering hard and he was getting very nervous.

He was back in her quarters when Lysandra popped in with a bag in her hands “do you mind if I check on her?”

He stood “no, please.”

Lysandra took her temperature “still 33 degrees. It was 32 when we took her out.” She grabbed the transparent bag at her side “this is an IV of warm saline, it will help her and should bring her temperature up.”

“Lorcan is making something hot for her.”

Lysandra nodded “have water at her side as well.” And Rowan nodded “it might take a while before her temperature goes up again and she will be exhausted.”

The woman then hanged the IV bag against the edge of her closet and left.

Dispatch alarm went off again and Aelin made a move but Rowan stopped her “you are not going anywhere.”

“I-I am the cap-captain. I have to.” She was still shivering from the cold.

He ran to the apparatus floor “Aedion, Aelin is not coming. She is still cold.”

“I was not expecting her to. I told Dorian she is out for today.”

“Thank you.”

The man nodded.

“Stay safe, all of you.”

Lorcan met him halfway “I am making soup.”

Rowan patted his arm “thank you.”

“Lorcan is making you soup.” He announced as he got back to her “we’ll go home as soon as you are feeling warmer.”

“I am fine.”

“No,” he brushed his hand through her hair “you are still shivery. You eat something hot. Warm up and then we’ll see.”

“I should be with the guys.”

Rowan shook his head “Aedion alerted Dorian and told him you are out for the day.”

Aelin was about to reply but Lorcan joined them carrying a bowl with hot soup.

“How is our fearless leader doing?” He asked while placing the bowl on her night stand with a spoon on the side.

“Still feeling cold.”

“I hope you’ll like the soup. I made it the other night for Elide and she loved it.”

“Thank you, Lorcan.”

He gave her a quick salute and a tight smile and disappeared.

“Are we sure he is the same man?”

Rowan shrugged and grabbed the bowl but Aelin snatched it from his hands “don’t you dare and try to spoon feed me. Stop fussing, captain.”

“Fine.” He stood “I’ll leave you to it.” And left.

He reached Lorcan who was sitting on the sofa watching tv.

“You okay?” He sat beside him.

“Yeah. I put the food away until they are back.” He sighed “I thought we had it bad in our last mission but the guys don’t seem to have too much downtime either.”

“Yeah, today is pretty bad. I saw them on slow days when they have even time to play games. Today has been hell.”

“How’s Aelin doing?”

Rowan’s head snapped in his direction “this is the first time you finally call her with her name. It’s always the captain or your woman.”

Lorcan cleared his voice almost embarrassed “I am starting to like her.”

“Good because I am planning on keeping her around.”

“At least she is not whiny.”

Rowan sighed. He knew Lorcan never liked Lyria. He was the only person who had been the most vocal about his disagreement in him marrying the woman. His other friends were not her fans but had shown him support when he proposed and after. Lorcan had always made his opinion clear. He had told him in his face that he was marrying the wrong woman.

“Well, at least you approve of this one.”

Lorcan snorted “damn man, there is no comparison. Lyria used the marriage to try and change you into her puppet and when it did not work she lost it and became this jealous bitch.” He stood and paced “she came to me and begged me to invent an excuse to fire you.”

“I did not know.”

“I never told you because for some crazy reason you seemed attached to her. Truth is… the woman was toxic.” He stopped in front of Rowan “Essar told me she saw her a few times in a club with another man, while we were away.”

Rowan leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes “that I suspected, just as much as I suspected that the baby was not mine.” He confessed “before we deployed for the mission in which I had to go home for her funeral I found the divorce paper she had ready.”

“And you still grieved.”

“She was my wife.” He almost shouted “yes, she was not perfect but I loved her.”

“Loved her as much as you love Aelin? Because in all the time I have known you I have never seen you with a woman the way you are with Aelin.”

“No, not even close.”

“Would you marry her?”

Rowan only indulged on that thought once. It was far too early. They had just started to actually build their relationship. He was happy where they were right now.

“Not while I am still on active duty. I promised myself that next time I get married I will not be an absent husband again. And I want a family one day. I just need to hold on for a bit. Less than five years and the prison is over.”

“I can make a few calls and get you a full time position at pilot school. I know you have been having issue with the force recently but your skills are vital.”

Rowan shook his head “Thanks but no. Once I retire I will be out forever and I have another path in mind. I want to train to become a paramedic and work in a firehouse.”

“Well, I guess your time as nurse Whitethorn will come handy on your application.”

Rowan flipped him off and patted his leg “let me go and check on Aelin.”

He left Lorcan and joined Aelin and found her wrapped under the blankets with just her face peeking out. Her phone against the head of the bed. He smiled when he saw the bowl completely empty. Good.

“Hey you,” he sat her side and brushed her head “how are you feeling?”

“Not great and I can’t seem to shake the cold from my bones and I feel so tired.”

He lay down at her side and tucked her against his body and looked at the saline bag “the IV is almost finished.”

“You need skin to skin to keep me warm.”

He flipped her nose “we can’t do that here at the fire station so this is it for now.”

“I am going to write a review on the sexy nurse website that sent you and complain that I am not satisfied with the service.”

“Menace.”

“Are the guys still out?”

Rowan nodded “Lorcan prepared lunch for everyone and I hope they will have time to sit down and eat when they come back.”

Rowan nodded “what were you watching?” He asked as he noticed her phone playing a movie.

“I don’t know a random fantasy series Netflix recommended. I wasn’t paying much attention.”

He bent his legs and placed the phone against them and put an arm around her shoulder “well, let’s watch trash tv together.” He made sure she was all tucked in and cozy.

Eventually he heard the squad come back in the station, turned his head and noticed Aelin napping. He stood and joined the team at the front. They all looked exhausted and he hoped Lorcan’s meal would be enough to cheer them up.

“I saw our new frozen candidate.” Joked Brullo while shedding his turnout gear.

“Lorcan and I thought it would cheer you up guys.”

The tall dark-haired man joined them as well “I have loads of food ready. Come and eat before you get called again.”

The team cheered and scrambled into the kitchen. Aedion joined Rowan “how is she doing?”

“Warming up but tired. She is sleeping now.”

“How was the last call?” Asked Lorcan curious.

“Drunken driver. Crashed into a car with a family. The father is a goner and one of the kids is in bad shape.” Explained Manon reining in her rage.

Lorcan cursed savagely “the bastard.”

The conversation died after that, the topic too hard to even add anything else.

“Thank you for lunch, both of you,” said Elide, giving a smile to both Lorcan and Rowan.

“Honestly, it was all Lorcan, I was busy playing nurse.” Added Rowan.

In that moment Dorian popped in.

“Chief!” Shouted Ren “come have food.”

The chief sat down and joined the team “how are you all doing? You guys had a long day.”

No one said much “I went at the hospital and checked on the last family you saved from the drunken driver. The doctors are confident the boy will make a full recovery with time.”

Everyone sighed in relief.

He took a bite “how is Aelin doing?”

“She is in her bunk, sleeping under a pile of blankets. She is very tired and cold.” Rowan explained.

“Is she warming up now?”asked Lysandra “she was showing some very early stages of hypothermia. Her temperature was around 32 degree when we pulled her out.”

“She did not accept to be taken to the hospital.” Pointed out Aedion with a bit of annoyance in his voice.

“I heard that.” Continued Dorian “we should have pushed her. Aelin can be stubborn.”

 A few snorts echoed in the room.

In that instant Aelin walked into the room with her hoodie on and a blanket around her.

“Hey,” Rowan stood and went to her “what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want to be alone.” And she sat heavily in Rowan’s lap, never letting the blanket go.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” she croaked.

Everyone laughed and Rowan gave her his seat and placed a plate in front of her. Lysandra sneaked in and took her temperature very quickly “35.5 you are almost back to normal. Do you still feel cold?”

Aelin took a bite “I still don’t feel great.”

“That is normal. Your body went through a lot of shock.” Explained Elide.

“Captain Whitethorn, make sure she takes tomorrow off. This is an order.” Said Dorian staring at the other man. 

“I am getting used to play nurse.”

Lorcan snorted “you can ask Lysandra or Elide to give you a ride in the ambulance, paramedic Whitethorn.” Rowan glared at him. That was something he had confessed only to Aelin and Lorcan.

“What is he talking about?” Asked Brullo curiously.

“I…” Rowan sighed “when I retire from the TAF in less than five years I want to retrain as a paramedic and work in a firehouse.”

“That is awesome,” shouted Asterin, sipping on her tea.

“You know that women will pretend to be sick to be treated by you?” Joked Ansel winking at him.

“Over my dead body.” Added Aelin while eating her food.

“If you need help to get into the program you let me know. I know it’s still a long time away, but, I work closely with the board and some of the trainers.” Added Dorian with a big smile.

Rowan nodded “thank you, sir. I will keep it in mind.”

“Are you sure you will be okay with leaving the airforce?” Asked Nox.

“I already did 12 years and signed up for five more a while ago. I will have no regrets when I retire.” He explained

Aedion was about to add something when dispatch alarm went off.

Dorian stood “come on guys. It’s one of those days.” Then he looked at Rowan “take her home.”

They all disappeared and Aelin sighed and drank more hot tea. Rowan and Lorcan tidied up the table and the kitchen.

*

It was an hour later when Rowan and Aelin got back home. He took her to the bedroom and she curled in bed hugging bird Rowan.

“Go under the blankets,” he said, pulling the duvet over her head “I can make you some tea.”

Aelin nodded “green tea, please?”

 He kissed her head “yes, milady.”

Rowan came back five minutes later with a pot of tea and a cup “here you go.” Then he touched her forehead with his hand “you seem to get warmer.” Another kiss on her head “that is good.”

He climbed in bed and opened his laptop and started Netflix “Fancy watching something silly?”

“Can we watch a stupid movie that we can make fun of?”

Rowan chuckled and browsed a few titles “what do you think?” He pointed at a movie “this one seems quite silly.”

Aelin nodded and he placed the laptop on their legs, bird Rowan tucked between them and then his arm went around Aelin’s and pulled her to him.

“You got a day off tomorrow. We can go to the theatre if you feel like it.”

Aelin’s head snapped toward him and she smiled “I’d love to.” She grabbed her phone and showed him something “have you seen this play?”

Rowan had a look on her phone and nodded and her saddened face broke his heart “hey,” he took her hand “we can go and see it. The first time I went I was on my own and I had no one with whom to enjoy it with.” She gave him a smile “I want to go with you. Also, it was another production. So it won’t be the same play.”

Aelin grabbed bird Rowan “yes, captain.” She said in a funny voice “I want to go to the theatre with you.” She brushed the toy in Rowan’s face “are you my boyfriend, sexy man?”

Rowan took the toy “you are actually cuter than your owner.”

“You are a mean man.” She hit him with a pillow.

“What do you think, birdie? She is also violent.” He hugged the toy “you and I we need to stick together, partner. Such a tyrant.”

“Well, I’ll let you two make out and I’ll go and make out with the last few chocolate brownies left.” She got off the bed and walked away swaying her hips on purpose to taunt Rowan “they are better boyfriend material than the current one.”

Rowan growled and got off the bed and padded quickly to the kitchen lifted her in his arms and placed her on the counter, his arms at either side of her.

Aelin’s stare was mischievous and she leaned over for a kiss but he moved away and Aelin pulled him back to her “come here, Whitethorn. Stop annoying me.”

“I should have really read the terms and conditions of this relationship.” He teased her moving a bit closer, reducing the space between their bodies.

“You might eventually get out of the airforce, but you are not getting out of this.” She whispered against his lips. Then tensed for a brief second realising the enormity of what she had just said. Truth was she did not want let go of him. A part of her, one that she kept still hidden, desired that they would one day become more. And those thoughts terrified her. She had gone from hating the man, to wishing he would never leave her. It was crazy but her heart was telling that what she was feeling was real.

Rowan stared at her, his pine green eyes on her and an expression that she could not read. Terror seeping through her that she had gone too far and ruined the moment.

“Is that a promise?” His voice low, almost hopeful, his gaze never averting hers. 

Aelin’s heart raced madly “if you want it.” She shook her head “I am sorry, it just came out.”

His hand joined hers on her knee and twinned his fingers to hers “did you mean it, though?”

Aelin slowly nodded and he smiled at her. His lips tugged up and the smile reached his eyes in a way that never fully happened before. The result left her breathless. Gods, he was even more stunning than usual. And she knew she had just seen a side of Rowan probably no one ever saw before. He smiled with others but she knew they were not full smiles. But this one… this one was something rare.

“And that’s all it matters for now.” His free hand brushed her face “there’s no hurry and I am loving this. Getting to know you. Spending time together. Spoiling you.”

“I am loving it too. So very much.” Her body inched closer “are you finally going to kiss me or you placed me on the counter to brag that you are taller than me?”

Rowan closed the distance and the kiss was everything but gentle. His hand shifted and grabbed her buttocks pulling her close while Aelin hands found their target on his back.

“We shouldn’t.” He pulled away “you need to rest.”

Aelin grabbed the collar of his t-shirt “you get me all wet and then back away? A nice energetic tumble in the sheets will get me all exhausted and ready for bed.”

Rowan did not answer, he just lifted her in his arms and her legs wrapped around his back and he carried her to the bedroom.

“Good boy.” She whispered.

And Rowan realised, while leaning forward to steal a kiss from her, that if he could do this for the rest of his existence, he’d be the happiest man of earth. 

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[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E111 (Sept. 29, 2020)

@eponymous-rose‘s internet is out tonight, so I’m here late and without coffee! Let’s see how many typos we can fit into an hour and a half episode.

Tonight’s guests: Ashley Williams JOHNSON, oops!! & Liam O’Brien!

We open with Brian in light-up vented sunglasses and Henry at his side, as always. Dani is very excited to be back and has fun-buns in her hair tonight. So cute! Everyone talks about how much they’re Zooming these days for work, and Liam mentions he and Matt & Marisha did a digital cocktail night. He and Dani arrange on camera to have a distanced, masked meetup in the park so Dani can see Liam’s dog again.

No announcements! Tonight, we’re discussin’ episodes 110 and 111.

Starting with the end, Brian jumps right to it by asking how they feel that Molly is alive. Liam 100% thought we’d be back to him, but still wasn’t ready when it happened. Caleb doubted he was alive. Both Liam & Ashley marvel at the numerology that keeps cropping up throughout the show. Brian hates not being able to see it at the same time the show happens live; Ashley was biting her tongue not telling him spoilers. (He doesn’t want to hear spoilers unless Yasha dies so he can be there for Ashley if needed.) Brian says he has a little reality trauma from the night Pike died in the pre-stream game; it was the first time he’d realized how much it affected the players.

Ashley’s realized how much she misses unpacking the game with Brian when they get home. She just has to sit with it until everyone else gets to see it. Brian: “Instead she comes home and I have to fill her in on the Real Housewives of Amarillo, Texas.”

Reunion dinner with Trent! Liam talks about how the way things unfolded with Trent is not at all how he imagined it in his pre-game creation; he’d expected more of a fracas, more of an unexpected clash. “Caleb might have been a different person if he’d run into these people earlier in the story. The M9 changed him before [Trent & co] came back and got to him.” He’d imagined Astrid & Eodwulf to be complicated encounters, but says what Matt’s designed has been even harder than that. A fight on a mountain is one thing, but walking into a room with “what Trent dropped, is impossible to cope with.” It also means that if what Trent said is true, anything Caleb does now is effectively of Trent’s design, even killing him.

He doesn’t think Caleb would have gone anywhere near Trent & co without the M9. “The Mighty Nein--it took a long time--but they cracked Caleb open like a walnut.”

He thinks what Matt has done is much more murky than the simplicity of murder, such as the Briarwood arc. He can’t just exact his revenge now.

Liam says that the tempation to tinker with time is no longer as all-consuming as it was. He might still be tempted if Matt dangles a bunch of carrots in front of him, but he thinks that now it might be better to make sure that that kind of thing doesn’t happen anymore for anyone else (!!!). “It’s still a nugget in his brain and it’s still possible he could be tempted by the drug, but what he wanted in the beginning was entirely selfish, but now that the M9 are involved he owes it to them, to the people of the country, even on the Dynasty side--is so complex that if Caleb were to get that carrot and chase it, he would be risking everything.”

Ashley agrees that most of their choices are no longer black and white. Many of the situations feel more like real life. Liam agrees and says he’ll sometimes make decisions that he’s both really happy with and regrets at the same time. They both look forward to what Matt will reveal in Act 3.

Brian feels it’s tough to gauge how deep they are into what Matt’s planned for the campaign. Liam says that thanks to Matt’s skill, he really doesn’t know what Caleb wants right now.

Ashley agrees, and talks about how she created Yasha to have more to overcome than Pike. She loves what Matt’s doing in terms of allowing each of them to overcome more emotional hurdles than physical ones in this campaign.

Going back to Molly’s grave was very exciting for Ashley since she wasn’t able to be there when he died in the game & wanted to do what she could to honor him. Yasha, however, was very hesitant but knew what needed to be done. She’s not very open with her emotions, but both she & Ashley were stressed. They all could feel the energy in the studio & knew Matt was about to do something mind-blowing. Liam: “You could feel all the dust in the air coalescing around Taliesin.”

Brian trips over Eodwulf. Liam tries to help him find some pronunciation shortcuts. Ashley: “You say it so beautifully.” Brian: “Thank you.” Ashley: “Not you.”

Caleb knows how wickedly intelligent & ambitious Astrid is, and was heartened by the wavering he saw in her at the dinner. However, he can’t trust her until he knows why she’s where she is.

He really feels that if they’d had this dinner 60 episodes ago, Caleb might have tilted back along the evil axis and he would have had to retire the character. He had a playlist entirely for if Caleb turned evil and left the party.

The vision of Zuala was a huge deal for Yasha, even along every other instance she’s had of being mind-controlled, etc. “That’s guilt I think she will always carry with her, but at least she’s starting to forgive herself.” Losing the chains, sprouting wings again--Ashley reiterates that she didn’t know that was even a possibility, she just picked the skeletal wings because they were dope--were huge moments in the character development. Ashley’s glad Beau was there at the moment of the first flight; Ashley thinks of the quotation “Happiness is only beautiful when it’s shared,” and because Yasha tends to keep things very much to herself, having someone there to share it made it more impactful. “That was a cool moment. There’s been a lot of healing for Yasha these last episodes.”d

Ashley also says sometimes in that moment, when all eyes are on you in a one-on-one with Matt, everything goes muffled like Saving Private Ryan. “Wub wub wub.”

Dani feels that the only way she could even have the conversation with Zuala was to let her go in the first place.

Liam thinks one of the things that Yasha & Cad share is that still waters run deep. He loves how much Yasha hangs back sometimes, only to then reveal some new moment like the fighting pit. Apparently Ashley also has a knife collection, and uses that metal side of herself when she wants to let that new side of Yasha show.

Cosplay of the Week: Crystal Armstead (@riyuski on twitter) in a Reani cosplay. Beautiful!

How does Liam feel about the return to Rexxentrum? Very, very complicated. Caleb loves magic and lights up when he sees it, which is wrapped in the Soltryce Academy; he brought folks to the dance hall for the same reason, which was wanting the M9 to see the things that he loved about the city.

Yasha felt the same way about visiting the Chantry of the Dawn. It was a memory of a very traumatic moment (almost killing Beau), but given everything that’s happened between then and now it was cathartic to see again. There’s been a lot of healing in the past few weeks. It also felt like a physical representation of Yasha’s growth, the last time she was controlled against her will like that (or at least, until she was mind-controlled by Vokodo. Ashley sighs, aggrieved.)

Brian: “The tower really feels like a love letter from Caleb to his friends.” Liam: “It is, and a love letter from Liam to his friends.” When he looked at Caleb’s spell list, he remembered how amazing the mansion was in Campaign One and how many role-playing moments it led to and knew he wanted to incorporate it. However, he knew it could never be the same as Scanlan’s mansion because Caleb doesn’t have the same improvisational genius as Scanlan does. Liam has been “tinkering with this machine” for over a year, waiting for the moment to reveal it. He loves that he got a chance to see Jester’s room in time to have her tower room reflect reality. He’d discussed the tower extensively with Dani & Matt. Brian: “Hey! What am I, chopped--what’s the saying?” Ashley: “Chopped cabbage?”

Ashley marvels at the design of the dome. Liam talks about how Caleb knowing Caleb has been abused has been slowly getting better, but he also loves now being able to juxtapose that healing with his innate love of magic and how beautiful he finds it, how he loves to use magic as his artistry. The Soltryce Academy wasn’t “Welcome to DEATH SCHOOL,” it was the Sorbonne. It was amazing, everything he wanted. It was only one bad apple within that recruited him and turned it all bad.

Liam also points out how much it means in real life to be able to express his love and care for his friends in person too.

Ashley talks about how much she loves Yasha’s armor in a meta sense because it’s so cool and useful, and great for her armor class, but struggles with what it represents in game. She might not be able to let it go due to its sheer utility, and she may have to find an in-game reason to justify keeping it.

Ashley segues a moment into talking about her velvet top which apparently has a matching velvet scrunchie. She’s asked to demonstrate the scrunchie and ties her hair up in a way that I have never in my life seen someone do with a scrunchie before, and my hair’s been waist-length most of my life. I watch it again in slow motion. How did she DO that??

Caleb’s been looking for the right time to tell Jester about his past for a long time. She’s a good person and makes him feel like he might be capable of becoming a good person at the end, because that’s how she saw him. Liam knew from Laura that Jester wouldn’t condemn him, but Caleb put it off as long as possible. He also wanted to take the time to make sure Caduceus & Yasha knew the whole story too before they went to dinner with Trent.

Liam was also relieved to get it out, because he could never remember who knew and who didn’t, and now he doesn’t have to track it anymore. “Now we can move forward. Now we can heal wounds, maybe.”

Ashley feels Cad picks up a lot, more than most people realize. Yasha was really affected by Cad’s line: “Patience can be good, but it can lead to apathy.” She really feels it opened her eyes, and she appreciated the simplicity of him pointing out her hair’s growing back white again. Having a friend notice “hey, you’re changing for the better” really means a lot. She’s interested in seeing how this means things might change with Beau.

Dani points out that it also reinforced for Yasha that she can want things too--she can be patient and just continue to be with the group, as she’s wanted, but it’s okay to want more than that too. Ashley remembers Veth asking her what her purpose is. There’s a part of her that knows Yasha is still figuring that out, and she’s interested to see how Yasha will continue to change. She’s always spent her life serving somebody--the Sky Spear, Obann--and then even after she joined the M9, it was very centered on “what do you need, what does the group need, how can I help with our next job?” She’s going to have to take some time to figure out what she wants.

Fanart of the Week! Lovely Yasha & Beau flight art by @JMNP7888. The wings look amazing!

Brian: “One of the things we want to talk to you about, Liam, is about the Vokodo fight and the FUCKING disintegrate spell.”

Liam: “That was one of the most insane 60-90 seconds of gameplay that ever existed for the table, and definitely for me, in the entire history of the show. A lot of people think I just went, oh man, just bet it all on black. But what if I told you that...I Larkin’d the first 20 seconds of that fight and then at a quarter to midnight, I forgot that the reflection was a thing? I just forgot it was a thing! I spent that whole battle thinking I’m just here to banish things. I might buff my friends a little bit, maybe I’ll counterspell, but I’m just here to banish. And it didn’t work and it didn’t work and then it did! Finally it did and Jester made it work and then he was GONE. And then everyone got greedy and it was done but we brought him BACK. And it was a quarter to midnight and I’m not an animatronic D&D lesson machine, I’m just a guy playing D&D at 11:45 at night, and he came back and everyone started Goodfellas circling him and kicking him, and Beau & Yasha are gonna kill him, and then it’s my turn? Disintegrate! And then the room was quiet, and then time passed, and Matt asked, you really cast Disintegrate? And I said yes, of course, and Matt started rolling dice, and in the back of my head I started wondering why he asked if I was rolling Disintegrate. Oh no. In the back of my brain, I was like, well, just tell him that’s not what you did. Tell him you didn’t remember the reflection thing. But he’s already rolling dice! You can’t take it back now. Hold on a second. I’m going to take you on the journey I went through. I was thinking: you have a spell save of 17. This thing wasn’t that fast. +1, +2, maybe? Anything under 14 is okay. That’s 70%. 70%. That’s okay, right? And still no one said anything to tip me off that I was in ELDRITCH MADNESS at that point, no one said anything about the reflection! And then I realize it can reflect back on us, and I realize this is...disintegrate. And then I started becoming morbidly, macabre-ly fascinated at the puppet dance of death I had created. Well, this is a mess. I have made a mess. Let’s just sit in it. And somehow, nonsensically, spectacularly, it worked out in my favor. I went home that night and I got in bed next to my wife, who was fast asleep, and I stared at the ceiling going, dude. Duuuuuuuude. Duuuuuuuuuude.”

He apparently also told his therapist about this and how terrible it was and how close he “danced myself to the precipice like a crazy person!” Marisha (as told by Liam): “Epic roll, though.”

Matt told Liam that night that if it had been reflected, it would have gone back on him. “If a player throws an M80 in the middle of a room, it would reflect on that player who threw it.”

Ashley talks about how interesting that Yasha is not performative, and yet has been doing these public performances with the harp. It’s a great experiment for Ashley--Yasha doesn’t like the attention, but feels like she is making something beautiful for the world.” She’s trying to change something about how she views herself & her place in the world. She was raised to be a weapon for the Sky Spear, but she’s also extremely gentle and loves flowers & beautiful music, and the further away she’s gotten from the tribe, she’s falling in love with gentle, beautiful things. 

Liam also points out it easy (real, but simplistic) to make an entire character centered around a single personality trait: “I’m angry all the time. I’m sad all the time.” He thinks it’s more realistic to see nuance in personality.

Liam can see some paths for Caleb to find peace & do good. He doesn’t know if Caleb is conscious of those. He thinks it’s a huge step forward to admit he was molded in this direction at all and that it wasn’t all his choice, but doesn’t know if this is the same possibility as redemption.

He also mentions Essek in this answer: there was/is attraction there, both intellectual and physical--the forehead kiss was a big marker of that--and he’s interested in seeing where that goes because he’s invested in Essek’s redemption arc on its own, but Essek is not as high on the list as other things Caleb/the M9 need to work on. He loved the “high spy times” of the Essek arc and the tangled-up-ness of feelings getting involved at the same time as intense commitment to duty.

Liam always felt Matt would bring Molly back in some aspect, even though Caleb always demurred because he doesn’t believe in fate. Dani and Brian agree that this is the start of a new act.

Ashley cried at the Vilya reunion. She thought that was an incredible moment and was so glad to see Keyleth. Liam: “Keyleth as part of our story is everything to me. That story is really important to me, so getting just a glimpse of her again was so important to me.” They could all see how that affected Marisha & how special it was to her. Liam: “It was such a great note in her song or color in her painting. She achieved magnificent things and was powerful and great, but had a very heartbreaking and sad ending, so to have this sliver of joy go back in is so complex and beautiful and masterfully done.”

Aaaaaaand that’s all for tonight! Remember, no Critical Role this week. Talks will be back in two weeks. As always, don’t forget to love each other. <3

[pillage-and-lute]

An Ever Fixed Mark (part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (here) Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,

Read it on Ao3 HERE

A little bit of BAMF! Jaskier, a lot of emotionally constipated/self flagellating Geralt, some miscommunication, and a secret.

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Geralt awoke slowly. The anxiety and excitement of the wedding had taken its toll, and the comfortable bed had enveloped him nicely. There was also the warm, comfortable weight in his arms.

Jaskier.

It was Jaskier in his arms. The young man was curled up, still fast asleep, with his head tucked against Geralt’s chest. Geralt wondered who had gravitated to whom in the night. Had he vvmoved unconsciously hold Jaskier? Perhaps. Jaskier must have cuddled up to him too, though. There was no other way to explain the way Jaskier’s hand was curled, lightly, around Geralt’s medallion. Holding on to Geralt. On his other hand, the wedding ring glittered.

Used to assessing battle situations, this train of thought happened in thirty seconds or less. His processing was significantly sleep slowed, however, because he finally became aware of what had woken him.

There was a pounding on the door. The urgent pounding of someone who desperately wanted to speak with the occupants but didn’t want to make others aware.

Without other options Geralt gently extricated himself from Jaskier, accidentally waking the young man in the process, pulled on the pants from the day before, and crossed to the door.

It was Eskel.

“What?”

“It’s almost ten in the morning,” Eskel said. “Vesemir wants us to leave really soon. Um, check if Jaskier has people he wants to say goodbye to.”

“Our things,” Geralt began.

Eskel waved a dismissive hand. “Vesemir had them packed up last night, but he really wants us to leave and he won’t tell us why.”

Geralt shrugged, reassured his brother, and closed the door.

Jaskier was sitting up in bed, his undershirt, a large, flowy thing, had slipped off one shoulder. Geralt’s stomach lurched, rolled, and finally curled up. Somehow it wasn’t in an unpleasant way, though. The skin was pale gold in the torchlight. It brought thoughts of sinking his teeth into all that glowing skin, gripping as he folded his body over Jaskier’s and...

Geralt dunked his head in the washbasin.

“Is that an okay temperature,” Jaskier said, slipping on his wedding attire from the day before. “I think it was warmed up for us last night but it’s probably pretty cold by now.”

It was doing exactly what Geralt needed it to, so he just grunted.

“I don’t have anyone I need to say goodbye to,” Jaskier said as Geralt wiped water from his eyes. “We can leave whenever.”Geralt nodded and pulled on his wedding doublet. Jaskier, all in white and pearls still looked like some sort of angel. He took Jaskier’s hand, and they left.

It was Jaskier’s guidance, of course, that brought them back to the rooms that had been for the witchers, and Vesemir was outside the door already.

“Was worried you two would linger,” he griped, but it was good-natured.

“Yeah honeymooners, how’s married life feel?,” Lambert smirked. He had packs over his shoulder, so did Eskel, and Vesemir. Eskel offered Geralt his pack and swords. Geralt shouldered them and took a much nicer pack from Lambert, obviously Jaskier’s. Vesemir picked up a lute from where it had been leant against the wall and Jaskier took it gratefully, a hint of a smile touching his round cheeks.

Then the odd little party left.

After all the anxiety and waiting and intrigue and the wedding itself, just walking down to the stables as an little group felt strange. No one stopped them, though. 

The witcher’s horses had been cared for, but were otherwise untouched. There was a fifth, a black and white stallion, big but not a battlehorse by any means. Jaskier reached forward and kissed it’s muzzle. The horse responded by huffing in the way horses do and tossing his mane.

They mounted up and were off before the bell in the town center tolled eleven. It just didn’t feel real.

“We’ll ride with you to Egerbak,” Vesemir said, naming a town a day’s ride from Chateau Lettenhove. “From there we’ll go our separate ways, not good for witchers to be all in one group.”

“Why?” Jaskier said, looking puzzled. “Wouldn’t it make fighting monsters easier?”

“Sometimes,” Eskel said, “But if the terrain is rough you can get in one another’s way.”

“Get paid less too, the locals think it’s easy and give up less coin,” Lambert said, a little sourly.

“Most jobs need just one witcher,” Geralt said, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “And villagers get edgy if there’s more than that, they fear an attack.” He didn’t mention why. Surely Jaskier knew the reason he was called Butcher. “But there isn’t many of us left, either. We four are all of the wolf school. If there were people who wished us harm, having us all in one place could exterminate our school.”

“That’s horrible,” Jaskier said, blue eyes wide. The color was muted today, Geralt noticed. The sky was overcast and his eyes seemed to reflect the blue-grey light that filtered down.

“Do you think we’re in danger now?” the young man said.

“Depends, do you think your father would send people after you? To kill you I mean.” Vesemir didn’t even raise the question gently.

Jaskier sat, moving steadily astrid his horse, looking straight ahead. After a long moment with just the sound of five sets of hooves he said quietly, “I think maybe we should move a little faster.” He nudged his horse into a canter and fingered his lute strap nervously.

Without further instruction, the witchers formed up. Eskel, keen with magic and with the same good senses of any witcher, rode in front. Lambert, with his predilection for blowing things up from a distance, rode behind. Geralt and Vesemir rode along in the middle, Jaskier between them. He was probably the safest man for a hundred miles.

“You really think he might try something?” Geralt asked quietly. He knew speaking softly wasn’t the same as being tactful, but it was about the best he had.

Jaskier nodded. “It makes sense. If his goal is to start war with the witchers. To say you mistreated me and voided the contract, that’s one thing. But it makes a better story to feed to people if his beloved son is killed the day after the wedding.”

“I just don’t get it,” Geralt said, frustratedly. “Why does he want a war with witchers? I understand he doesn’t want you to be his successor, but he could just disown you, couldn’t he?”

“I was thinking about that,” said Jaskier. “It would look bad if he did, but he could. I think he wants a war with witchers because he wants a war with other countries. Any place that didn’t immediately turn against witchers-- all witchers, not just your school--well, he could declare them an enemy of Lettenhove, which is a big province. That makes it an enemy of Kerack and then Kerack goes to war with anywhere that decides they need someone to fight their monster problem.”

“That’s...” Geralt said.

“Despicable?”

“Well, yes, but I mean, it’s a lot to comprehend,” Geralt said. He felt a little at sea. This wasn’t his job, all this, this politics. He was a witcher. Find monster, swing sword, kill monster, get coin. That was what he did. Alliances and assasination and wars and marriage, they weren’t supposed to factor in.

“Yeah.” Jaskier said. 

They rode on, safe inside the wolf school’s formation. After perhaps a quarter of an hour Jaskier slung his lute around and began to pick at it idly. It had a case, but he’d tied that onto his big stallion instead. Apparently he liked having it available.

“Why does he want a war?” Geralt asked after a little longer. “What does your father get out of it?” 

Jaskier stopped plucking. “It’s part of the earl thing, in his case the position has a lot to do with finances and the kingdom’s treasury. Wars mean finances are more important, which makes him more important, and he get’s more power.”

“All of this is just a power grab?” Geralt said. “That’s daft.”

“That’s politics,” Jaskier said, a tad tiredly. “He probably thinks he could be made a duke. And yes, daft is a good word for it all.”

After that they just rode, stopping only briefly for lunch and to rest the horses. Jaskier played his lute quietly, most of the journey. At one point he pulled a notebook and charcoal stick from his bag to jot things down and muttered as he played.

Geralt had no idea if the lad’s music was impressive, but he was impressed with how he sat a horse, multitasking as if he was part centaur. He did most emphatically not think about how nice Jaskier’s thighs looked in the clothes he’d changed into at their lunch stop.

The wedding attire was very fine, but Jaskier looked somehow...right in the clothes he wore now. Blue trousers of fine but durable material and a white chemise under a blue doublet. He’d asked if he should wear the basilisk leather, but Geralt had shook his head. It was a fine spring day and basilisk leather kept heat like a fur coat, he didn’t want to cook his husband before they’d been married a whole day.

And wasn’t that a thought that clanked about in Geralt’s head. Husband. Husband husband husband husband husband. They were married and Geralt had a husband. Who was nobility. And Geralt was his husband.

And Geralt kind of wanted to kiss his husband.

That was his problem, however, not Jaskier’s. Whatever the damn ‘implied hidden fidelity clause’ said, Jaskier was free to sleep with whomever he chose. Why would any young man, in the position to choose, pick a scarred witcher, the Butcher of Blaviken? Who could choose Geralt?

Geralt suddenly felt very bitter, for himself and on Jaskier’s behalf. Neither of them had asked for this, and the witchers weren’t even going to get anything from it. Now he had a husband, a semi-disgraced noble, who apparently had musical talents. Bardic? Geralt didn’t know but it seemed...right. 

Regardless, he needed a place to drop Jaskier off. Somewhere safe. It couldn’t be claimed he mistreated the man if they weren’t together. That way, Jaskier couldn’t...

Couldn’t what? 

Geralt had never before actually contemplated all the ways a normal human could be hurt on the Path. Witchers, sure, he knew about that but humans were delicate. Geralt had been told once that you shouldn’t just eat rabbit because it...it did something and you would get sick. Or maybe starve? Because the meat was wrong somehow. Too lean? Not lean enough?

It didn’t matter because he wasn’t a human. He remembered a dreadful three weeks when coin had been lean eating just rabbit and he’d been fine. Jaskier might not be. Geralt hardly earned enough coin for himself how was he supposed to feed and protect them both. 

Not to mention things like sleeping rough and rainstorms and all the little pitfalls of traveling.

It had seemed fine in theory before. Jaskier would have his basilisk leather and would stay at camp but now reality was setting in. 

Tired from the road, the whole group spoke little as they set up camp. Geralt pitched the tent that he would share with Jaskier then set up the fire while his brothers put up their own tents and Vesemirs. Vesemir went hunting.

Geralt was almost eighty five years old, and had been hunting for most of those years, but not one of the younger wolves could match Vesemir’s skill. 

Dinner was stew, with meat courtesy of Vesemir. Dessert was no talking at all. This wasn’t unusual at all for the wolves, but Jaskier was looking around nervously. 

“You’re safe,” Geralt said. “It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Jaskier said. It seemed odd, because he’d been so vibrant and chatty back at Chateau Lettenhove.

“Pass me your dish,” Geralt said. Wordlessly, Jaskier handed him the shallow bowl. Geralt scraped it onto the grass.

“I’m sorry about the whole...assassin thing and, and everything,” Jaskier said after another silent minute.

“Hmm,” Geralt said.

The overast sky finally gave way to the rain that had been threatening all day and with a sigh the witchers each turned in for the night. Jaskier crawled into the tent after Geralt and settled down onto one of the bedrolls.

Geralt went about his nightly routine as if nothing was different, untying his hair and stripping himself his clothes. He felt oddly flattered when Jaskier let out a tiny gasp as he divested himself of his smallclothes. A glance showed him the young man, wide eyed in the dim light, kneeling on his bedroll. 

The tent smelled of lust.

Geralt pulled on the well-worn loose trousers he preferred and nudged Jaskier’s pack at him. The boy took the hint and rummaged in it, pulling out similarly loose sleep pants and changing quickly. Geralt looked away for decency’s sake. They may be married but that was no reason to take liberties. Unfortunately, Jaskier was wearing another loose chemise to bed, and Geralt’s thoughts dragged back to the tantalizing view of shoulder from that morning. 

“Wrap up tight,” he grunted, annoyed at himself for even thinking of that. “If the temperature drops in the night I don’t want to have to deal with you getting sick.”

The lust smell, which had waned somewhat, was entirely gone, replaced with a scent Geralt had smelled on Jaskier before. 

“Okay,” Jaskier said quietly, and tucked himself obediently into his bedroll.

Jaskier smelled sad. Like he had the night before.

Geralt rolled into his own bedroll and cursed himself. Of course the boy was sad. Dragged onto the Path with a husband more monster than man. Boyish hormones made him horny, not any desire for something like Geralt. And he was a boy. Nineteen was legally an adult but it was like...what was the phrase Vesemir had used? De jure is not de facto. Legallity is not truth. 

Geralt listened to Jaskier’s breathing and thought about their ages. Eighty years for a witcher was still considered a mere stripling youth when considered in the course of a witcher lifespan. For Jaskier, though, he would live to be eighty only if he was lucky. On a witcher’s Path he almost certainly wouldn’t be. 

Jaskier’s breathing hadn’t slowed into the deep, even pattern of sleep. Geralt wondered what was keeping him awake. Then again, if he was sleeping beside a monster, he’s lie awake too.

It seemed as though neither of them would ever sleep, both of them laying, inches between them, on their separate bedrolls. Then, between one blink and the next, Geralt must have slipped into sleep.

He awoke to a damp world. It had rained through the night and the rain was still drizzling against the tent when he opened his eyes. The humidity and the little moisture that seeped through the cloth of the tent had built up and everything felt sticky and muggy. 

Although every item of clothing in his pack had been put in dry, almost nothing felt entirely dry as he struggled into proper clothes. Jaskier woke too, blinking his eyes open muzzily and wrinkling his nose at the damp feeling. He also dressed in silence, frowning as he pulled on his clothes. 

There was no dry firewood for a fire and Eskel, gifted though he was with magic, couldn’t make a fire last on soaked wood. The group ate cold rations. Jaskier tried to start up a conversation with Eskel about literature. 

Geralt smiled inwardly, but let none of it show on his face, lest Jaskier think he was mocking him. Eskel, despite the best efforts of everything the wolf school could do, was so far from being a morning person as to be out the other side. He could stay up all night, but wasn’t conversational until nearly noon.

Jaskier looked disheartened, though. Geralt wasn’t a substitute for literary conversation, so he just packed up Jaskier’s horse for him. For some reason, Jaskier frowned at that, but then nodded at Geralt and they all mounted up. 

It was an hour’s ride to Egerbak, where the witchers would part. From there, Geralt thought, mapping the journey in his head, he and Jaskier could turn for Oxenfurt. The journey would be almost a month, and Geralt would have to hunt along the way to earn coin, but Jaskier would be safe there.

While Geralt was musing, Jaskier was trying to strike up a conversation with Vesemir. The old wolf was more of a morning person than Eskel, but not a conversationalist, so Jaskier eventually shrugged a little sadly and pulled out his lute. 

He plucked a tune, editing it again and again until he seemed satisfied. It was catchy, an earworm Geralt was sure would never leave his head. Then Jaskier began to hum.

Geralt himself was very nearly tone deaf, and frankly didn’t like music in most cases, but Jaskier’s voice sounded okay. It was only humming, anyway. 

Geralt’s ears pricked and he saw the shoulders of Eskel, riding point, tense up too. He knew all the witchers had heard the noise. Hoofbeats were approaching fast. Geralt craned in his saddle to see the rider, but could make out little between the rain, which had graduated from drizzle to downpour. 

Vesemir coughed, flexing his hand on the reigns, opening his fist then closing it again. The witchers drew together, closing their formation. To the rider it would likely look as if they merely were drawing towards one another to give him room. It worked to do that, for sure, but it was also a defensive maneuver, trained into them and beaten into their memory. Witchers rarely fought alongside eachother, but when they had to they were prepared. Closing ranks also had the benefit of enclosing Jaskier, like a hand wrapping around a precious stone. 

Geralt’s steel sword had been tied at his hip, and his silver along with the saddlebags. It made him look less threatening, more like a knight errant than someone ready to battle at any time. In truth, the change from being slung at his shoulders was practical. In combat he could draw the sword from his hip and be prepared, rather than having to reach up to draw his weapons. It left him less exposed on horseback. He reached down to his hip and, in a smooth and almost impercepitble motion, flicked the tie open on the sheath of his sword, loosening its hold to make the sword easier to draw. He turned the movement into a casual stroke of Roach’s flank. 

The rider pulled up alongside. “Sir witcher,” he panted, “I must speak with Master Julian.”

Geralt glanced at Jaskier but the boy looked...different. He was sitting his horse more stiffly and looked more haughty and aristocratic than Geralt had ever seen him. Nothing of his clothing had changed, and he was in poor garb compared to the silken doublets he had worn before, but in a second his posture had turned him into the spitting image of his father. 

“Speak, man,” Jaskier said, waving one hand dismissively. 

“You left without your dowry.”

“Dowry,” Jaskier said coldly. 

Geralt felt cold for a different reason. He’d seen a ring on the hand of the rider, the left hand’s index finger. It was large, with a heavy stone. He was a slim young man in the dress of a footman, but something in his build said otherwise. This was an assasin, Geralt would bet his medallion, and the ring held poison, or something equally nasty. 

“I have no need of a dowry,” Jaskier was saying, passing straight through haughty and going for enigmatic without bother to slow down. 

“Your father insisted,” said the assassin, sidling his horse closer. Geralt nudged Roach and she deftly stepped in the way. 

“My father can take back his coin,” Jaskier said, even as the man offered a bag, slightly open to show gold coins. “I am no maiden, and my marriage shall produce no heirs.”

“But--”

“Don’t speak over your betters,” Jaskier said, every words ringing like steel. “A dowry is to set up a household. Well my household, such as it is,” here Jaskier gestured about him. “Is set up. Traditionally, if the wife dies without producing a male heir to the marriage the dowry is returned. I shall produce no heirs, so I’m returning the dowry preemptively.”

The assasin looked truly stumped. “I must give this to you,” he said, reaching forward, across Roach’s rump to hand the bag to Jaskier. Geralt saw the man’s thumb hover over the poison ring, as if about to flick open the compartment. 

“No,” Jaskier said.

“At least dismount so that we can discuss this,” pleaded the rider. 

Geralt looked about them. They’d been riding through woodland all day, but it was dense here, just the place one might lie in wait. Then he saw it, the thing he’d been waiting for since they’d left Lettenhove. A glint of light off of metal in the underbrush. Vesemir caught his eye, he’d seen it too. 

“Melitele help us!” Jaskier cried. “There’s bandits in the woods!”

Geralt saw anger and annoyance flash onto the face of the assassin. “No bandits in these woods my lord, I’m sure,” he said smoothly.”

Geralt knew the plan in that instant. Jaskier would be found dead on the roadside, the rider would stagger back into Lettenhove, or perhaps onward into Egerbak and tell how the witchers had cruelly murdered Jaskier and made off with the dowry, leaving him for dead. These hiddent troops were presumably to subdue the witchers while Jaskier was murdered. 

Finally, Geralt drew his sword.

Damn. If they killed the Earl’s men that would also look bad. 

Jaskier, switching from enigmatic to foppishly distressed. “You simply must turn back,” he was saying to the assassin. “It’s quite alright, I have all these big, strong witchers to protect me, and before I left lettenhove I sent a xenovox message to a mage in Temeria, a friend of mine. I have a powerful protection on me.”

“You do,” the assassin said, edging his horse back a step. Protection spells tended to get messy in a guts and gore way for those who crossed them.

“Oh yes, and my darling husband, isn’t that right, dear heart?” Jaskier said, giving Geralt doe eyes. Geralt blinked.

“Uh, yes, Triss Merigold,” Geralt said, thanking his lucky stars, which most of the time had utterly failed to be lucky for him, that he actually knew a mage in Temeria.

“Merigold,” the would-be assassin said. “The name rings a bell, I’ll just,” and he rode off, back towards Lettenhove. 

Jaskier spurred his horse. “Let’s get out of this rabbit snare,” he muttered. The witchers rode double-time to clearer ground.

“Well,” Vesemir said, once they were well and truly clear. “Quick thinking, lad, and some of the most pretentious acting I’ve ever seen.”

Jaskier bowed in his saddle, smiling like a moonbeam. “Thank you, although I’m just glad Geralt had a real name to back me up.”

“Should do,” Lambert snorted as they rode past the first few buildings of Egenbak. “She practically sewed his guts back into his body after a Striga--”

“Shut up,” Geralt growled, but it was too late. Even in the rain, Jaskier’s eyes were sparkling. 

Greed, Geralt reflected, and indeed, lust, came in many varieties. Jaskier’s father may covet money and power, but the mere mention of a story had Jaskier coveting it just as viciously. What could be so boring, so lacking in a wealthy young man’s life, Geralt wondered, that he was so starved for adventure?

They bid their goodbyes to the other witchers, Jaskier surprising them each with a hug. Vesemir huffed, but Geralt caught the slight upward twitch of his moustache. 

“Fair roads,” Jaskier said, waving to them all. Geralt waved too, and then his brother’s and Vesemir rode away. 

So did Jaskier and Geralt, but it hadn’t been three minutes when Jaskier asked, “Striga?”

“Mmmhm.” 

“What is a striga?” Jaskier pressed.

“Monster.”

Jaskier huffed. “What sort,” he said, with a bit of a whine. “How is one born...made? What does it look like? What does it do? Why have I never heard of one before?”

“Made by magic. Looks ugly. Does messy awful killings. They’re rare.”

“Please, Geralt, tell me the story?” 

Geralt didn’t look over at him. Wasn’t going to. If he caught a glimpse of that face and those eyes pleading he’d give in.

“The rode is going to be awfully boring, Geralt, a story would really help,” Jaskier said, still begging.

“Just focus on riding,”Geralt growled. “I don’t want to have to deal with you if you fall off your horse.” Then he urged Roach on ahead. 

It was indeed a very long and boring ride. After a while Jaskier pulled out his lute and began to play.

“Toss a coin,” he sang quietly, then he changed the cord and tried it again, a little higher. “Toss a coin to your witcher.”

“Don’t make up songs about me,” Geralt growled.

“Short of you telling me stories I have to make things up,” Jaskier said. “I know nothing about you.”

“So you write me a song?”

“I think you deserve one,” Jaskier said, as if his very believing it made it fact. 

Geralt urged his horse on ahead. 

“Come on,” Jaskier said, nudging his horse faster too. “My singing can’t be that bad, can it?” he asket.d lightly.

“Yes,” Geralt growled. “It can.”

They rode the rest of the day without speaking. Jaskier plucked sullenly at his lute. 

Geralt was angry, and worse, he didn’t really have any right to be angry. He knew he’d messed up. Day two of marriage and he’d fucked up spectacularly. He was bad at this, and he was angry at himself. Somehow, though, he felt angry at Jaskier too. What was Geralt supposed to do? Answer every childish question? Tell stories? Discuss literature like Eskel could? Like probably all of Jaskier’s high class friends at Oxenfurt and Lettenhove could?

He was a witcher. Witcher meant solitary. It meant silence. It did not mean infernal music and being pestered about a story like a nanny.

He was being an asshole and he knew it, but damnit, he’d been an asshole so long he wasn’t about to stop all at once. It was practically baked in at this point. Being angry was better than trying to be kind an failing. Silence was easier than speaking.

Jaskier drooped in his saddle though, and Geralt felt like a cad.

They stopped for lunch at the side of the road, eating soggy rations and not talking to one another. They were both soaked to the skin, despite heavy cloaks, which were too hot in this late spring storm. Jaskier dripped miserably and carefully wiped down his lute, putting it reverentially in its case.. Up until that point the instrument had been mostly safe from rain, cradled against his body under the cloak. He’d clearly come to the same conclusion that Geralt had, however, that if the instrument stayed out any longer, cloak cover or no, it would get truly wet. 

“Raining cats and dogs,” Jaskier said, tentatively. It had the same feeling as a man dipping his toe into water to see how cold it was. 

“Hmmm.” Geralt said, neutrally.

Apparently seeing this not outright aggression as an invitation, Jaskier, metaphorically, jumped into the pond. 

“See, I think that saying is really rather silly,” he said. “Not only because it, obviously, doesn’t rain animals, but really, cats don’t even like water.”

He continued chattering as they remounted and rode on.

“Dogs do like water of course, well, some, but so few like rainstorms, especially thunder. I wonder why we have that saying then.”

His mind seemed to skip back and forth between subjects like a grasshopper. 

“I understand why dogs don’t like thunder, of course, and I don’t care for lightning much myself, but the thunder must be so loud with their sensitive hearing.”

He paused for a split second and Geralt wondered if blissful silence would return but then,

“I imagine thunder must be dreadful with your hearing, right?”

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. Shut up, he thought.

“Oh that’s awful,” Jaskier said. “Do you think it will thunder tonight? I hope not. If it does - or perhaps even if it doesn’t - I think we ought to get a room in an inn tonight. Give our clothes a chance to dry.”

Melitele’s tits. Geralt couldn’t believe one man could talk so much. It was almost like nervous chatter but it grated on his already fraying nerves.

“An inn would be perfect don’t you think? And I could play there. I’m a bard you know. Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘you’re a Viscount, Jaskier,’ and that’s true, although I suppose not anymore, technically from the moment I said ‘I do’ that honor was passed to my half-brother but, I’m a bard as well.”

“Shut up.”

“What?” Jaskier said.

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling as he did so cold water drip from his hood onto his face. “For the love of all that is good just shut up,” he growled. 

“Maybe if you said something back occasionally it wouldn’t be so one sided,” Jaskier said sniffily.

“Maybe if you had any brains in that empty head of yours you’d have something worth while to talk about.”

“I have brains,” Jaskier said, affronted.

“Clearly not enough to know when to shut up,” Geralt sniped back. “I don’t want to have to deal with your incessant chatter all the way to Oxenfurt.”

Jaskier stopped his horse and dismounted, in the middle of the road, in the pouring rain. 

“Get back on your horse, have you lost your mind?” Geralt said, but he reigned Roach in.

“Oxenfurt?” Jaskier said, quietly. His voice held no emotion and Geralt felt suddenly that he had really fucked up this time. He dismounted.

“Yes,” he said. “You have friends there, I thought it would be a nice place to go.” He wasn’t sure why he didn’t tell Jaskier that he intended to leave him there, but he felt that, at this time, that wouldn’t go over well.

Jaskier’s face softened. “You thought it would be nice,” he said. “For me to go back there.”

Geralt shrugged. “One destination is as good as the other on my Path, often I just wander.”

Jaskier smiled softly and remounted. “Okay then,” he said. “To Oxenfurt.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry, I suppose dismounting was dramatic, I guess I thought you were taking me somewhere to get rid of me.”

It was like having ice shoved into Geralt’s spine as he mounted Roach again. “I wouldn’t get rid of you,” he said lowly.

“Oh, not ‘get rid of’, like that stupid assassin. I meant...discard, abandon, leave, wash one’s hands of, cast aside.”

They rode on, Jaskier chattered, but less. Geralt didn’t say a single word.

They didn’t make it to a town with an inn that night so they made camp in a soaked clearing again. Guilt ate Geralt as he was eating cold rations and chased him into their tent. He lie awake feeling heavy with it as he heard Jaskier’s breathing drop off.

Jaskier wouldn’t like being left at Oxenfurt, but it would be for his own good, Geralt thought. He didn’t have to tell him right now, anyway. That was a discussion that could wait until Oxenfurt. 

Geralt’s guilt didn’t lift completely, but it eased enough that he slipped into meditation.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’m still pretty sick with mono, so this took me ages to manage, but its here at last! So psyched to write the next part too.

Tag List!

@llamasdumpsterfire @stinastar @aziz-the-fangirl @mordoriscalling @bastardofmothman @negativenuggetz @morte-mistrata @ailorian @hayleynzlive @filledepluie @bygodstillam @sociowithatardisachevyandawand @faery-god @honeysuckletook @theflurtifly @saibowtie @werevampiwolf @frywen-babbles @the-kewlest @innocentbi-stander @1stbonesfan @aqueenrisesintheeast @toothhurtyam @marauders-fan-account @ineffable-lasagna @limevodka @rocknrollphanda @seralyra @permanently-exhausted-witcher @aj-itated @watchthewolvesfall @00qtee @the-blondey @birds-of-forgiveness @west-moor @abstractartwithoutpaint @darkonesdagger7437 @onwardsandfourwords @underwaterattribute @whenrainbowsend @goldbvtton @little-piece-of-tamlin @in-love-with-writing002 @flustratedcas @fontegagrilledcheese @so--many-fandoms @kirk-spock-in-the-impala @oniongrass @flowercrown-bard @maya-the-yellow-bee @thecomfortofoldstorries @wellthisstinks @thenameislion-dandelion @flowercrown-bard @obsessedchildsworld @debellatis @zotinha456 @tumbleweedtech @goblin-loves-shiny-things @birdsflyhome @holymotherwolf @the-shenny-of-azkaban @darkangel91939 @enkelikauneus @saphiramalbec                  @silvermirror1997 

[thenukacolachallenge]

Nova sibling tidbits~

-Calli still has trouble concentrating on academic work if Coco’s not around. She associates study time with Coco’s singing while doing housework, from their childhood/teenagerhood. she’ll sometimes listen to old recordings of her singing if she’s not around and Calli can’t focus on her work.

-Sascha and Coco are both little feral goblins who are always ready to throw down at any given moment, so they constantly start fights in the house that cause a huge mess. Sometimes Calli gets included in the battle, but only if both of them know she’s ready for it, and if it’s not over a personal matter. in the Nova household, you’re always battle-ready.

-Calli plays pranks on both of them. She likes to scare Coco when she’s not expecting it, although she usually also has to dodge an instinctive punch, since Coco is fight in the fight-or-flight argument. With Sascha, her favorite prank is putting her barrier magic in a doorway he’s about to walk through. He never doesn’t fall for it. He has not learned in a decade, and honestly bless his heart for that.

-Coco and Sascha always end up butting heads when they have guests over, bc she was always taught in her upbringing that Guests are The Most Important Thing Ever™️(it’s a big thing in her culture since, being on a hidden-away island, people didn’t often have guests), and Sascha is apathetic at best with other people in the house. He pretty much behaves the same way he always does, which is relaxed, non-talkative, and casual. She, meanwhile, is extra respectful, and always offering things like water and food and the like. She gets mad at him for not being more reverent about the whole thing.

-Despite all their fighting, both physically and otherwise, Coco and Sascha are very close. Sascha is the first one to notice that something’s really wrong with Coco after her and Aten split up, and actually comfort her for it instead of just staying out of her way like most everyone else. Much like Calli, Coco didn’t tell Sascha about any of their relationship(under Aten’s advice, of course), but he knew she needed her big brother and went to help her.

-and of course, Calli and Sascha are incredibly close. he was the one to help her after she and Coco were separated, he helped her learn how to fight in ways that Coco couldn’t teach her, and he’s usually who she goes to when Coco’s being unreasonable. they all tend to end up being mediators between each other, bc between the three of them, there’s a fuckton of trauma. They do love each other very much though, and even though Sascha isn’t related to Calli and Coco by blood, they both consider him just as much of family as each other.

-in some universes where it’d make more sense for there to be an actual adult in the house, Astrid, who’s the one remaining Village Elder in Andromede(Coco and Calli’s ancestral homeland) adopts all three. It’s usually Calli and Sascha at first, with Coco finding her way in eventually. despite the fact that she’s not super hands-on, she cares dearly for all three of them, and is always willing to help then with whatever they need. Also, they call her "Grandma", not "Mom," even though she's technically their adoptive mother.

[seanfalco]

Hey there XD I was wondering what you could do with Winnie and Lyddie + “were you masturbating?” and/or “i didn’t like the way they were looking at you.”

Girls' Night

Win Lewis x Lydia Bellamy

Word Count: 1.1k Warning(s): Language, Alcohol, Smut (Masturbating, Oral f!receiving, semi-public sex) a/n: Takes place while they’re living in New York & Lydia’s still part of Rock of Ages

——

The boys were off at another brother bonding basketball game for the evening, so instead of waiting for Lydia to get home after work, Win decided to come surprise her at the theatre, and by her estimation, intermission had only started a couple minutes ago.

Perfect timing, she thought with a grin as she opened Lyddie’s dressing room door.

From her couch in the corner, half undressed, Lyddie looked up wide eyed, quickly pulling her hand from the front of her knickers with a yelp.

“W-Winnie! Oh, it’s only you, I didn’t know you were coming,” she exclaimed, letting out a shaky sigh as she quickly sat up, attempting to look as if nothing had happened — as if Win hadn’t just walked in on her touching herself, a moan on her lips.

Win wasn’t about to be distracted, however, a wicked grin playing at her lips.

“Were you masturbating?” she asked, stepping closer.

“What? No!” Lydia exclaimed quickly, shifting atop the couch cushion, her face flaring bright red.

“You weren’t?” Win quipped, tilting her head as she looked down at her fiance. “So you’re not pent up at all?” she teased, watching Lyddie squirm uncomfortably, pressing her thighs together tighter.

When Lyddie didn’t answer, Win shrugged. “Guess I’ll let you finish getting ready for the next act—”

“Winnie!” Lyddie finally whined, catching her hand before she could move away. “I’m so pent up, I need you, please?” she begged, her bottom lip pushing out into a rather adorable pout and Win grinned, sinking to her knees before Lydia.

“That’s what I thought,” she smirked, her eyes flicking up to Lyddie’s as she wet her lips and pulled her fiance’s knickers down, tossing them aside before parting her legs and crawling closer.

“Were you thinking about me as you touched yourself, Lollipop?” Win asked, parting Lyddie’s folds with her fingers to give a teasing lick, rolling her tongue over her clit, extracting a needy sound from her throat as her hips jerked.

“Y-yes,” Lydia answered breathlessly, her hand seeking Win’s, who readily thread their fingers together. “But this is so much better,” Lyddie sighed, subtly grinding against Win’s mouth.

It wasn’t long before Lydia’s chest was heaving and her other hand had tangled in Win’s short green locks as her tongue deftly moved against her cunt, circling her clit like a lollipop, savouring her.

“Oh God, Winnie please! I’m so close!” she whined, squirming even more desperately.

Win’s eyes flicked up to Lydia’s face, wanting to watch her come undone, which didn’t take long under her unrelenting tongue, giving her fiance no respite until she was pressing the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle her cries. Drawing the head of Lyddie’s clit between her lips, Win gave her one last teasing flick with the tip of her tongue before crawling astride her lap to kiss her deeply, Lyddie moaning at the taste of herself.

“Oh my God, Winnie,” she gasped, catching her breath. “That felt amazing, you’re so good at that. It’s like your tongue is—”

Before she could finish that thought the five minute bell chimed and her eyes widened. Win quickly slipped off her as she jumped to her feet to finish dressing and get back on stage.

“I’m gunna watch the second half from the audience,” Win said, stealing a kiss as she half slipped out the door. “And afterwards, if you’re not too tired, we could grab some drinks and go dancing?”

“Sounds perfect!” Lydia exclaimed, grinning as she hurried out the door after Win, turning in the opposite direction.

——

After the show, Win waited for Lydia to shower and they set off, arm in arm for their favourite club. The place was packed, but the bouncer ushered the girls inside, leaving a line of waiting club goers to grumble at the special treatment.

“And what’s just one of the perks of being moderately famous,” Lydia laughed, pulling Win with her to the bar. “What would you like t’drink, Winnie, darling?” she asked, catching the bartender’s attention.

“I’ll have my usual,” Win replied, shaking her head fondly. “What’s gotten into you tonight?” she asked with soft snort, grinning up at Lyds.

“Nothing,” Lydia answered, fighting back a smile as she paused to order. “It’s just been a while since we’ve had a girls’ night, that’s all.”

“I've missed this too,” Win purred, pulling Lyddie closer, just as their drinks arrived. “C’mon baby, let’s go dance,” she exclaimed, taking a long draw of her whiskey and coke as she tugged on Lydia’s arm, leading her toward the packed dance floor.

The driving bassline thrummed through them as they danced, finishing off their drinks to get closer, Win turning in Lyddie’s embrace to press her ass to hers, letting her grind against her, mindlessly writhing and gyrating to the music.

“Do you want another drink? I think I need some water,” Lyddie panted after a couple more songs went by.

“Water sounds good,” Win agreed, catching her breath.

“Okay, you stay right there, and I'll be right back,” Lyds assured her, smiling at her over her shoulder as she threaded her way back to the bar.

As she waited, Win let her gaze roam the crowded room as she tucked her sweat dampened hair behind her ear. She didn’t notice the group of guys eyeing her interestedly, looking ready to head over to talk to her, but Lydia did, and she hurried back, water bottles in hand before the group had a chance to swoop in.

“Oh, thanks, I didn’t realize how thirsty I was,” Win murmured, taking a sip as Lydia glared at the men, barely letting Win recap her bottle before Lyddie’s lips were on hers.

For a moment Win lost herself, holding onto Lyddie’s arms to keep from swooning as she kissed her back, their tongues dancing fervently.

“Not that I’m complainin’,” Win gasped, catching her breath, an impish grin curling her painted lips, “but what was that for?” she asked, gazing up at Lydia.

“Can’t I just kiss my Winnie because I want to?” she replied innocently, her eyes flicking to the men, who gaped openly now, giving herself away as Win followed her gaze, cocking an eyebrow at her.

“I didn’t like the way they were looking at you,” Lydia pouted, giving in and Win’s grin grew.

“You just wanted to show them who I belong to,” Win purred, stepping closer, ignoring the eyes on them. “Well, let them look, cause I’m all yours, Lollipop,” she cooed, kissing Lydia back.

“You know… I still owe you from earlier…” Lyddie murmured, pointing out. “I think it's time we go home so I can take care of that, and by that, I mean you,” she whispered in Win’s ear, sending heat rushing through her, reminding her just how pent up she was.

“I like th’sound of that,” Win agreed, threading her fingers with Lydia’s. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Gladly,” Lyddie quipped, flashing a triumphant smirk as Win pulled her toward the door. She knew soon she’d have her on her back and screaming her name.

----------------

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