#inga’s trail

[figofswords]

A member of Earth's severely diminished human population following the onset of the 6th Ice Age and the ensuing mass extraterrestrial migration, INGA is a girl from a small clan of nomadic reindeer herders. Left behind to tend to her ailing grandmother while her clan—including her younger brother Mikko—traveled north to the Summer Village, Inga soons finds herself alone when her grandmother does not survive the summer. When the onset of winter brings no sign of her clan's return, Inga sets out alone to find them.

something something character design

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

The Broken Beg

⚔️ All Previous Parts Here ⚔️

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO (knots, slick, mpreg), Viking/god Col, fae Dom, PTSD, fear, anxiety, like Big Fear™️- Dom is spiraling, insomnia, overprotective momma, Col being concerned but sweet, crying, hurt/comfort, beginnings of smut, fingering, begging ☠️ rating: mature/explicit ☠️ shared ideas by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

Kol'son didn't know what he expected after a night like they'd had- a war? Instant fight? A god to attack them out of nowhere? He didn't know what he'd expected but it certainly wasn't so much fucking wait and see. Shit went calm after they demanded Eric to stay, maybe he thought Áine would hear them and come straight to take their child but it had been a few days and nothing. He knew he was annoyed but his mate was starting to have a mental breakdown, at least Kol worried he was. He was glad to finally have a name for the bitch his wife was promised to but it seemed since the boy uttered it he was on edge. Something just felt different.

Dom had been shut in their room since the babes had been born but it was worse since the vampire appeared. He blocked the doorway unless someone had a password, he wouldn't let the pups out of his sight, he was either pacing or staring at them and Kol didn't think he'd slept. It was starting to scare him. Inga had tried slipping herbs into his food but it didn't help him sleep. It accidentally worked on the children though and that was the first time the Viking had ever seen his queen scream at someone that wasn't him or Tom. He apologized and broke down against her chest directly after but still, the fae mother was protective to his own detriment.

The leader had tried everything, he promised to stand watch in both forms, he brought their kin in to help stand guard, they tried whatever they could but even then the selkie wouldn't close his eyes, he just laid in bed and stared at the ceiling or out the window. He could barely even let Kol touch him or the kids. It was starting to feel like torture and they needed to feel bonded stronger than ever before they faced anything else.

He took a deep breath as he faced the door to their hut. Where normally he was always excited to see his lover his stomach flipped, his fear of how much worse Dom might seem was too strong. He tilted his head to crack his neck, his shoulders squaring as if he were about to head into battle but that's exactly what it felt like and he hated it. One knock- a beat- two rapid taps- "Dialaeth." He said simply though the word always gave him a shiver down his spine. Tom had explained it when he asked and there was something about knowing his sweet loving wife was only thinking about revenge that made the fear bubble hotter inside him.

Something moved on the other side of the door before it finally opened enough to let him through. Honestly he would just use the window but Dom had demanded boards be placed over just enough to make sure a body couldn't fit. The look on his mate's face broke his heart all over again. He was obviously exhausted, his dark ink like marks were somehow even darker, his black lips bitten and dry. He loved those lips, the way the top one slightly blanketed the bottom, how they covered his own so perfectly. Gods, when had they last kissed?

"Close the bloody door!" The fae's voice was a whisper hiss but Kol'son obeyed, pushing it closed and snapping his fingers to move the weapons chest back in front of it.

"You shouldn't be moving that." He sighed, just watching as the boy moved back to the pile of babes on the bed. "How are they? How are you?"

Jade eyes twitched as Dom took a seat and stared back at the man he loved so much. He didn't want to be acting the way he was but nothing terrified him more than his own parents. "Sleeping fank fuck. I'm…" His voice trailed off and his eyes filled with tears. He didn't know how to answer that. For days he'd been saying he was fine but they both knew it was a lie. He didn't know if there was something softer about his husband's look or he himself just felt more broken but something snapped inside him and he didn't want to lie again. He couldn't. "I'm so tired Kols. I'm scared. I don't know 'ow to keep 'em safe." His voice was choked and high and it had the god moving across the room to sit on the bed and gather him into his arms.

"I know." The alpha whispered softly, wrapping his mate up in his hold and rocking him gently. He couldn't promise everything would be alright but he could sympathize. "I'm scared too. I swear to you, I will fight past death for you and our family. I won't let them take anyone."

"'Ey been around so long Kols. It's an old alpha god. You new." Dom wasn't questioning his daidí's power but perhaps the level of control he had. Besides, he was human so long and still thought that way. From what he understood his old god had never been human and didn't act like one. They had no heart to speak of. Everyone thought them so kind and maybe at one point they had been but no longer. In days past the god had blessed the world with equal omegas, fully fertile, they wanted the land populated. Eventually it was overrun with alphas and betas, the fae of his home were dying off as humans took over more land. That seemed to anger the fertility goddess and they took it out on their people. He didn't know why he'd always had trouble thinking of her as a she, he supposed he was so terrified growing up he had to make her some greater being that didn't have a gender. But Kol'son was a god and it made him realize they could be just like them. Blasphemy probably but he didn't really care.

"Well fuck her. I don't care if I'm new. You get Fenrir was supposed to eat the gods yeah? So what if this bitch is from a different land? I'll eat her ass too." Kol'son tried to cheer his mate up but the boy gave him a look and he caught his words. His tongue stuck out and his nose wrinkled in distaste. "I'll eat your ass, how's that?" Finally a small smile curled those plum black lips and the Viking grinned back. He didn't know if his family was only meant to carry a part of Fenrir until the end times but with the destruction of his binding spell ink and the near death of his lover he had taken hold of all his power. If he could bring someone back to life he could certainly destroy another god. He hoped.

When Dom didn't look away Kol moved closer, cupping his cheek and pressing a soft kiss to his dry lips. A broken needy noise escaped the boy and the god growled back. Maybe the fae hadn't realized how long it had been either. "Daidí I'm sorry." The words were quiet and Kol shook his head. He wouldn't accept an apology for fear. He understood. Fingers gripped his tunic in desperation and the siren tugged weakly. "I don't mean to be a wreck. I don't mean to 'ide from you. I miss you." There was an inflection to the words that made him realize it meant more than just his presence and gods he did too.

"Me too." He rasped, cradling his wife's head gently but firmly enough to keep him close. He was scared that if they put too much distance Dom might drift away again. "I was trying to get us some alone time the other day. Had this whole thing planned." He huffed, kissing along Dom's jaw and letting his free hand explore down his back.

"Oh? I wondered where Cia was taking me." Dom whimpered back, his touch pulling at the ties of his lover's tunic.

"I found a clearing in the forest with flowers I thought you would like. I had a picnic, a blanket, just wanted some time with you." He hummed back, his hand dropping to the boy's ass to help him move against his lap.

Dom glanced to the children, happy to see they were all asleep with their big brother curled around them. They had some time alone but could he handle being touched? "Tha' sounds lovely. Fank you for trying." He sighed, pulling the top off his husband and dropping it to the floor behind him. "I know I been distant-"

"Shut the fuck up. You pushed four kids out of my favorite part of your body. I can wait to play again until you feel like it." The alpha snapped softly but honestly. He refused to let the selkie feel bad for that. "How is your pussy ástin min?" He wasn't normally so blunt but… who was he kidding- of course he was. He was more surprised he hadn't asked it flat out already. He stilled the fae on his lap and caressed his palm over Dom's thigh until he could slip his hand between his legs to tease over his folds. He wasn't as wet as normal, he seemed too tired and nervous but there was something there and it reassured Kol like nothing else could. He hadn't scented his wife's slick for days.

"Oh-" Dom whined low, his hips shifting as he scratched down his husband's chest and tried to work his pants open. "Feels- feels good." He answered after a moment and the leader smirked. He meant in general but okay.

"Yeah? Should I check?" Kol'son purred against his ear, his fingertip circling his queen's finally dripping hole. He didn't go in though, instead he gently pushed the boy off him and stood to pull his pants down.

"Oh daidí." The siren whined, he obviously felt bad at the sight of Kol's straining cock. He knew he was aching but he mostly ignored it. He wanted to focus on his bride but he was sure his dick was red and throbbing.

"Lay back." He demanded carefully, his voice gentle so the omega knew it was his choice. The boy did as he was told and Kol curled his hands around those plush thighs, tugging his ass to the edge of the bed before he leaned down to hover over him. "I need to work you up to it. Hands or tongue?" He couldn't keep the growl out of his voice. He could smell his mate's cunt and it was all him again, just begging for that fresh bread and honey scent of babes to be added.

"Don't- I need you. Need to feel you. Please?" Those jade eyes were wide and pleading and even so tired he seemed genuine. "Make me 'ead quiet?"

Kol'son was going to disagree until that moment, the need broke something inside him. He knew it might hurt, he was big and he wouldn't be able to stop himself from knotting Dom. It had been too long. "Are you sure?"

Dom checked in with his own body, the way his heart raced at the thought, the way his tits leaked as if his hormones were going wild, the way his core clenched around nothing. Just being under the god was calming so much of the fear inside his mind but he knew what would make it even better. His lips curled in a soft smile, his tongue flicking out to tease over his husband's mouth. He set his claws against the man's scarred and inked chest and pressed softly. "Fuck me alpha? Need you."

Author's Note/Tags: @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @manicpixiedreamb0y @cole-way-iero28 @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

I know this was a little short but I'm not feeling the best. Just didn't want to leave y'all with nothing. Poor boys are a bit overwhelmed but at least they're trying to reconnect. They deserve a treat. I hope you enjoyed it! Hopefully actual smut tomorrow!

🖤☠️🖤

[plantfeed]

setting: outside the museum somewhere, idk some kinda garden / patio gig. maybe there's a bandstand or a flowery trellis or something equally romantic n gross. status: closed for piper @laughstrack

“...the corsage was my mum's idea,” rory admits, unsure if that makes the whole thing sound more or less lame than it already is. “she, uh… she really likes you.” more than once, inga had urged rory to redirect his attention from a certain curly-haired thespian to the proverbial girl next door. “sorry if it feels like, totally inappropriate or whatever. i know it's not prom.”  talking about the cluster of flowers around her wrist serves a larger purpose ━ it allows rory the opportunity to take her hand in his, turning it this way and that in the guise of looking at the petals, now that the joint that the two of them had come outside to share is long since burned out. there’d been a moment when rory had pressed the joint back into her mouth that he’d thought about kissing her, but she had a throat full of smoke. maybe she’d get angry if he tossed her joint aside and wasted all that weed to aggressively start making out with her. or maybe she’d have liked it, found it edgy and called him a stud. either way, it’s too late to tell now. as custom, rory had found himself thinking this could be it, a moment, only to fumble it through his inability to act. this time, he isn’t squandering it, the hand that isn’t threaded through her fingers trailing his thumb over the throbbing blue pulse point of her wrist. it feels like having a live animal under his thumb, something delicate and dangerous that pulses in his stomach. “i, uh… i kinda wish i had asked you to prom.” instead he'd taken catherine cooper, and she'd blown him in a closet at an after party he wasn't even meant to be invited to. his eyes refuse to meet piper's out of fear that they might accidentally reveal every secret longing he’s ever had. it sometimes feels like piper gets him in a way that other people can’t, a split psyche shared since sandpit days. “kinda wish a lot of things, honestly.” 

[jonaslejon]

Ultravasan 2024

För några dagar sedan så sprang jag Ultravasan 90 för tredje gången. Det är också viktigt att påpeka att UV90 numera är 92 kilometer och inte 90 som det tidigare var, detta pga en omväg i starten.

Jag springer som vanligt utan mobiltelefon, så därför blir det tyvärr inte så många bilder.

Men hur gick det då kanske du undrar? Jomen det gick någorlunda ok. Har som vanligt en del att förfina. Just första milen gick rätt bra och då låg jag på plats 78, främst för att det är mycket trail. Och jag är bäst på att springa trail.

Sen kommer grusvägar och liknande, där tog mina ben slut. Jag hade bara snittat 2mil/vecka senaste året vilket märktes när jag hade sprungit 2-3 mil av sträckan. Slutade på placering 181 med en totaltid på 10 timmar och 2 minuter.

Tidigare år har jag hamnat på placeringar: 148 (år 2023) samt 209 (år 2019).

Men vad gick bra denna gång? Jag skulle säga att det mesta förutom hastigheten gick bra. Inga problem med mage eller liknande, inga större skavsår eller värk.

Fler längre pass är helt enkelt det som krävs för att hamna bättre till på resultatlistan. Körde eg. bara två längre pass på 3 mil vardera under senaste året. Och det var till STF Sylarnas fjällstation via Helags, från Kläppen (Ljungdalen).

Vet dock inte om jag kommer att springa igen nästa år, tar lite emot just nu.

[kneehoming-knee]

IT'S ME SWISS BEATS NOSE _OSES OCK LL PROTRACTOR BODY ASS DAMN GETTING OWNED GTA SAINTS ROW_ WHOSE_ LEONIDAS LAUGHED T 'LUKE MINUTES LATER' GIN '2 FINGER NO SIR NOT MINE' SPHINCTER A EVIL OF THE CHORUS DOZEN INGA WINGS GERMAN STORES TRAIL HUCKLEBERRY EXPANSION "DIVIDES" 3018 CRUISER DINO CRISIS ANIMAL CROSSING BLOSSOM COMMANDER NYEEM FANG SERENITY "IMMIGRATION EXPERT ALLENLOURD LOURVE INVESTIGATION" NICKEL MITCHEL AND NESS MOUNTAIN LAKES STEPHANIE NEW EMAIL NICE SIDE ROAD ATTRACTION _ HOW DOES IT FEEL D'ANGELO TOWN CAR WHITE GIRL RESERVATIONS (SWIRLED HELICOPTER/ WORLD WAR Z %VERT_COOL KEWL

[graphicpolicy]

Local Man #8 begins to bring it all together with some amazing art

Local Man #8 begins to bring it all together with some amazing art #comics #comicbooks #ncbd

Local Man’s gotta find a real, genuine monster, while the very human one who shares his bed looks for any means possible to shake him from her trail. ANY. On the flip side, Inga’s quest to save Farmington has hit a dead end. But along comes her partner, her savior, her cool new best friend, Farmer Xaver… her ex-boyfriend’s dad? Local Man #8 continues its fantastic mix of originality and homage…

[flora-bigs]

Inga is trying to understand. "What do you mean? Did..." She trails off, running her fingers through Siobhan's hair. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry... What happened?"

siobhan wails into the pillow, blessedly muffling the noise, before she props her head up and wipes her eyes.

"he s-said... that his friends think i'm too... that I'm too big... he doesn't want people to think he likes fat girls."

she sniffs.

"and he said i always eat too much on our dates... i thought he liked how I eat..."

[jefarawol]

Lastly, The Scions not present, were rounded up.

Thancred ever resourceful was able to evade his captors with ease.

Jelly, Freya, Inga and G'in, I heard left a trail of bodies from the city as they ran. Even weaponless, Freya was a trained assassin. they didnt stand a chance. learning what they could from their assailants they fled into the night.

[waiting4inspiration]

Darkness before Dawn XII: A tart, and a party trick

Summary: Charlotte comes to talk to you and she asks you something that shows you she has changed. Ida starts teaching you the basics of magic.

Warnings: small angst, fluff, character development, magical elements, mentions of abuse, mentions of bastard children, if I missed something please let me know

Word Count: 3,148

Darkness before Dawn Masterlist II The Witcher Masterlist 

Charlotte knows that you have a few moments to yourself before you have to go to the lessons to help you prepare to be a queen. Dominic had refused that Charlotte carries on with them, because he knows she won’t be ruling any kingdoms, which means that she would need to find some other way to occupy her time. Which is why, she’s asked other people, people like the cooks to teach her their skills. 

She’s been wanting to talk to you for a while, which is why she walked in on her mother threatening you. And as she stands outside your bedroom door, your favorite pastry on a plate in her hands, she’s not sure what she’ll be walking in on this time. 

Gently knocking on the door, her heart leaps in her chest when it's open quickly by your single handmaiden, Inga. She gives Charlotte a small smile as she opens the door wider and steps aside to let the princess in. 

You turn your head up from your spot on the bed to see who had walked in and see Charlotte come to a quick halt when she spots Ida and Geralt with you. The Witcher sits on your bed with you and Ida sits on the chair close to your bed. And Charlotte can tell that she’s walked in on an important conversation. 

“I was hoping to speak with my sister. Please,” Charlotte softly says, surprising both you and Ida because this is the first time you’ve kind of heard Charlotte say ‘please’ or speak with sincerity. 

Looking between Ida and Geralt, who wait for your response. You nod to them and give Geralt’s hands that cover yours a reassuring squeeze. “Wait outside for me,” you whisper to him. 

He gives a short nod and stands with Ida and moves to walk out the room, leaving you with Charlotte. And Geralt leaves his silver sword beside your bed in case you would need it. 

Charlotte looks to you as the door closes and slowly walks forward as you hold your hand out to the chair in front of you. “You look tired,” she softly says, sitting down in the chair as you shrug your shoulders. 

“It was a rough night for me,” you whisper, looking up at her with dark circles around your eyes. 

Suddenly remembering the peace offering she had brought with her, she holds the plate out to you and smiles. “I thought this might cheer you up a bit.” You smile and giggle as you take the plate. “I had some help from the cook who taught me how to make that.”

“You made this?” you ask, baffled as you stare at the pastry in front of you. She nods her head, blushes slightly and stares down at her hands. “This looks delicious. Thank you,” you whisper, settling the plate on your lap as you look up at her again. “You wanted to talk to me?” 

She nods, lifts her head and bites her lower lip. “It’s more of a request,” she shyly says, and you’ve never seen her like this before. “I was wondering if you would put in a good word with the King about me.” This makes you take in a deep breath because it was what your mother wanted from you too. Is Charlotte just trying to use you so she doesn’t lose the privileges she had when she was the heir to the throne? “I know I am a bastard child and I don’t deserve to live in a palace like this. But, I hope you can convince the King to...not throw me out on the streets?

“Even if I be your lady-in-waiting, I will do it. But I know I will not survive outside the royal house,” she says, looking at you with a desperate look in her eyes. 

Her desperateness moves your heart and makes your bite your lower lip as you stare at her. She just wants to survive. You can tell she no longer cares of her privileges, how a room would bow when he enters and how people would respect her or else. She doesn’t care about that anymore. 

You shake your head, confused for a second as you search for your words. “What happened that’s made you change? You never wished to speak to me, about anything?” you state. 

It wasn’t long since she insisted that she is the heir to the throne, that she thinks she should have been cursed instead of you. Now, it’s like looking at a completely different person. You wonder if this is not just an illusion, a trick played by Kurst. 

But the sad look in your sister’s eye seems too real to be faked. “I saw the way mother treated you yesterday and I knew immediately that it was wrong and that no one should be treated like that,” she begins, drops her gaze to her hands as she sighs. “And I know that I haven’t exactly treated you with kindness either, but a lot has changed since I found out the truth about who I really am, what I really am. And I can only hope that you will forgive me for all that but I will understand if you don’t-”

“Charlotte,” you stop her rambling, chuckling when she stares at you with a flustered look on her face. “I can see you have changed, and I can see it is for the better. So, I will talk to my father. Because you have asked me in good faith to,” you mention, reaching out to touch her hand. 

She sighs in slight relief and lets go of the tension in her body. She laughs at how she had been nervous about this and glances down at the circle on the ground. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through and I’m sorry-”

You stop her by holding up your hand and shake your head. “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” you whisper, dropping your head to look at your hands. “So much is changing, it’s almost hard to keep up,” you mutter as you curl your hand into a fist. “It appears that I have magick in my blood and that is what this spirit that’s haunting me is after,” you explain to her, forcing a smile as you grip the edge of the plate. “Aunt Ida is going to teach me how to channel it and control it. I won’t be a Mage, though. Tissa de Vries says it’s best that I remain as the future queen of Eronia,” you add.

Charlotte moves to sit down beside you and rests her hand on your forearm. “Could you use your magick to defend yourself against the ghost?” she asks and you take a deep breath. 

“Ida says I could. I was able to last night,” you say, turning your head to look at her. 

“Well, then that is a good thing, isn’t it?” she questions. 

You give a small nod, hum at her words as you bite your lower lip. She notices your hesitance, but for what she’s not too sure. She also sees now how you don’t seem to be as confident as you once were, that you don’t carry yourself as you did whenever you were around her. Maybe it’s because of how she’s changed her attitude towards you, but she thinks it’s not because of how tired you are, how weak you are. 

And she sees tears lining your eyes when you lift your gaze from staring at the pastry on the plate on your lap for a while. “I’m scared,” you confess in a whisper, your voice breaking as you try to stifle a sob. It breaks Charlotte’s heart seeing you like this. “I don’t know what to expect every hour of the day, I’m too scared to sleep or to step out of this circle. I’m terrified and it…” 

You trail off, breathe out a shaky breath and drop your head as tears fall down your cheek. “It’s exactly what he wants,” you whisper, your eyes staring at the scars on your forearm from when you were first attacked. 

Charlotte doesn’t know what to say or what to do. She’s never comforted you before, she doesn’t know how to comfort anyone. And before she can even try, the door opens making her head snap over her shoulder as you quickly wipe your tears away.

Geralt and Ida walk back in the room, both have slightly confused looks on their faces to see Charlotte sitting so close to you and with a saddened look in her eye. She knows her time with you is up and she kind of hoped to talk to you more, even though she doesn’t know what she would talk to you about. She would just let it happen. 

“We should get to work,” Ida gently says when she spots the small tears in your eyes even though you try to push them down. 

The Witcher notices your tears too, and he slowly walks forward as Charlotte turns to look back at you. And when you give your sister a small smile, he sees that your tears are because of something she had said. It has to be something else. “I’ll leave you to it then,” Charlotte softly speaks as she stands and pulls her hands away from your arm. 

“Come talk to me whenever you wanted to, Charlotte,” you say before she can take a step away from you, making her smile in relief and nod her head. 

Standing as Geralt walks up to you, keeping his eyes on Charlotte as she walks away, you place the plate and the pastry on the bedside table, thinking that you can’t wait to eat it later. You slip your hand into his when he touches it and turns his head to look down at you.

Ida doesn’t close the door when Charlotte walks out. Instead, she watches as Geralt turns his body to face you, reaches up to touch the side of your cheek and gently wipe his thumb over your skin. She smiles at how you tenderly lean into his touch and how both of you are oblivious that she’s still there. Especially when Geralt whispers a question to make sure you’re okay. 

Clearing her throat after you give a gentle nod, Geralt pulls slightly away from you and turns, but keeps your hand in his. “It would be best if we are alone,” she mentions. 

Geralt knows that she’s right. No one can be sure what will happen when you start to channel your chaos, and should you be attacked, Geralt fully trusts Ida will be able to protect you. 

By the way you squeeze it hand, he can tell that you’re not too sure about him leaving you alone again. He turns back to face you, reaches up to push a strand of hair behind your ear as she stares into your eyes. “You’ll be safe. I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t think you were safe,” he whispers and you nod your head knowingly. 

But still, you can’t help but think about the time he did leave you and it ended badly. You can’t blame him for that. You know he can’t. And - as much as you appreciate Jaskier - you are in much more capable hands this time. 

Leaning forward, he places a small kiss to your forehead before reaching behind you to take his silver sword before stepping backward. He keeps his eyes on you for a while before turning and walking out the room. 

And when you turn your gaze to Ida, you find her staring at you with a smirk on her face. “What?” you mutter as you run your hand through your hair and shift on your feet. 

“You two have grown close, I see,” she sings, folding her arms over her chest as she walks towards a table. You smile to yourself and turn your face to the side as you bite the inside of your cheek. “He likes you. He can’t stop thinking about you.”

Her words make your head snap up at you look at her with an inquisitive look in your eyes. “His thoughts are very loud,” she chuckles. She places a flower on the table and then a rock beside it, sparking your interest and making you take a small, hesitant step out of the circle. “And you like him as well?”

You sigh when she turns your gaze up to you as you come to stand beside her. “I do.”

“Better than that boy Ferni?” You laugh at those words, but nod your head nonetheless. “But you doubt things because Geralt is a Witcher.”

“You did not get that from reading my mind,” you mutter, reaching out to take the flower and twirl it in between your fingers. 

Ida chuckles and pulls you to stand where she had been standing. “No, I didn’t. But, you shouldn’t let that hinder your love for him to grow,” she gently says as she rests her hands on your shoulders. “We never forget those we truly love. Trust me, I know.”

That makes you turn your head over your shoulder to look at her and she gives you a reassuring smile. Then you glance down to the rock on the table and breathe out deeply. “What must I do?” you question, talking about this first lesson she’s planned for you. 

“Try and lift the rock without touching it,” she whispers, making you frown and tilt your head to the side. 

You turn your head down to the rock and lick your lips as Ida whispers Elder, and you repeat the incantation. But nothing happens. It makes you sigh and shift on your feet as you narrow your eyes on the rock and grip the flower tightly in your hand and you repeat the incantation. 

Ida doesn’t say anything, watches you repeat the Elder incantation one last time before the rock slowly lifts off the table. You stare at it in awe before your eyes catch the flower in your hand wilting and shriveling in your hand. “You can’t conjure something from nothing. Tissa de Vries tells that to every mage that studies at Aretuza,” Ida mentions with a small laugh as you turn your head to her. “And now, I will teach you what she has taught me.”

Geralt walks up behind you as you watch the sun slowly set through the window, places his hands on your hips as he breathes out a sigh. The only time he can freely spend with you is at night. And even then, it can’t be for long because you need as much sleep as you can get.

You smile at the feeling of his touch, drop your head between your shoulders as you bite your lower lip when he steps closer, his chest pressing against you back. “How are you feeling?” he asks softly, making you realize now how closer his mouth actually is from your ear. 

Turning around to face him, you rest your hands on his chest as you take a step closer to him. “A bit tired,” you whisper, lifting your gaze up to him and you smile small at him. “It’s been a long day,” you chuckle, dropping your gaze to the medallion on his chest. 

He hums, raises his hand to push a piece of hair away from your face as you look up at him again and leans slightly forward. His hand stays on the side of your face so he can run his thumb over your cheek, his forehead resting on yours as he breathes in deeply. “You should get some rest then,” he whispers, but when he pulls you closer you have a feeling that he doesn’t really want that. 

“You still have to tell me about your Child of Surprise,” you mention, making him chuckle and pull away to look down at your face. “She’s not in Cintra. Where is she?” you ask, taking his hand when he drops it away from your cheek and slipping your fingers through his. 

“Kaer Morhen,” he mentions, glancing behind him before sitting down on the chair, still holding your hand in his. “She’s there in hiding and being trained to be a Witcher,” he adds, looking up at you as you take a step forward to stand in front of him. But he has other plans instead of having you stand in front of him. 

With a small tug, he pulls you closer so that you sit on his lap. You gasp, look down in embarrassment as he shifts your legs so that they spread around his hips. “I’d like to meet her sometime,” you whisper, resting your hands on his shoulders as you lift your head again. 

You notice how his eyes glance down to your lips as his hands return to your hips. This reminds you of the last time you were in this situation with a man. Ferni, to be exact. Your mother walked in and didn’t like the idea that you had a suitor. And a powerful suitor at that. 

Geralt breaks you from your thoughts as he pulls your lip out from between your teeth. You see the questioning look in his eyes. He wants to know what you were thinking about. “My mother walked in on me when I was in this kind of position with someone a couple of years ago,” you mention, leaning into his touch when his hand comes to your cheek again. “I don’t have to tell you how she took the fact that I had a suitor who will be King of a distant kingdom,” you chuckle, glancing down in shame as memories of your ‘punishment’ flash through your mind. 

Hearing that, Geralt wonders if he would have ever met you had things been different. Would he be here, in this moment, if your mother didn’t walk on that day? What if this curse was never cast? He would have met you, Jaskier would have been sure to make that happen. But would he have felt what he feels for you now? If your mother hadn’t walked in that day, perhaps you would be married to that suitor. 

But you’re not. You’re here with him, straddling his lap and so close for him to kiss you. “She won’t walk in this time,” Geralt mutters, making you lift your gaze again and frown. “I’ll know if she’s close,” he mentions, leaning closer and presses his lips to yours. 

Smiling into the kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he runs his hand up your back and the other through your hair. The first time you were in this position with Ferni, you thought that it couldn’t get better. 

But with Geralt, it just has.

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[pcttrailsidereader]

Dangers of Hiking the PCT Loom as the 2021 Season Approaches

This is an excerpt of a story from the San Francisco Chronicle that appeared in the February 21st issue.  I do find that there are increasing numbers of hikers populating the PCT whose backpacking and wilderness experience is very thin while the dangers remain the same (perhaps even greater with the addition of forest fire).

By Gregory Thomas

As the spring hiking season approaches, veterans of California’s trail community are urging long-distance backpackers to take extra precautions to avoid catastrophe. Looming over the season is the unceasing threat of the coronavirus as well as a tragic snow-related death last year on the Pacific Crest Trail.

Trail authorities are chiefly concerned that inexperienced hikers, seduced by the prospect of a life-changing adventure on the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) and the natural beauty of the John Muir Trail (JMT), may be venturing unprepared into dangerous situations in the remote wilderness.

Whereas older generations of outdoors enthusiasts likely built their skills and experience under the guidance of seasoned mentors, younger hikers seem prone to digging for trail expertise in internet blogs and social media. Hundreds of thousands of through-hikers coalesce around hubs on Facebook to discuss strategy and gear. But the vibe of comment threads can turn macho or hostile, and the information exchanged isn’t always sound.

“A lot of the voices (in online trail groups) are great, but some have been historically dismissive of safety,” said Jack Haskel, trail information manager at the Pacific Crest Trail Association, which issues long-distance permits to PCT hikers on behalf of the U.S. Forest Service. “Something we’ve been talking about as a long-distance hiking community for years now is, how do we build a community of alumni who stick around and offer their insights to new generations of hikers?”

Through-hiking the 2,660-mile PCT, which spans mountain ranges between Mexico and Canada, is a six-month commitment to self-sufficiency in the woods. The highly popular JMT, which extends from Yosemite Valley 217 miles south to Mount Whitney, overlaps with hazardous sections of the PCT in the High Sierra.

“This is not a beginner experience, but a lot of people hike the JMT as their first through-hike,” said Inga Aksamit, of Sonoma, who administers several JMT groups on Facebook. She says JMT permits, which become available online each morning for spring and summer hiking dates, are getting snapped up within a minute or two. “That’s really concerning to me,” she said.

The two trails, once the byways of fringe dirtbaggers, now draw tens of thousands of nature lovers to California’s mountains each year. Many aspire to follow in the footsteps of Cheryl Strayed, whose 2012 hiking memoir, “Wild,” became a best-seller and popular film, or re-create the spectacular nature photos of their favorite Instagram influencers.

Last year, the onset of the coronavirus pandemic prompted the Forest Service to stop issuing long-distance PCT permits partway through the season. But many hikers proceeded anyway, sparking vitriolic debate and shaming in the online groups where hikers congregate. This year, permits are back on — the trail association anticipates a return to pre-pandemic levels of about 7,900 permits even as international hikers are expected to stay home.

The potential for hikers to carry the virus into the 30-some-odd remote mountain towns strung along the PCT users is a theme of many social media discussions this year.

“It’s not just the risk in the wilderness this year,” Haskel said. “We’re worried about our trail communities.”

No one keeps precise statistics on trail deaths, injuries and rescues, but there have been at least 15 fatalities on the PCT since the early 1980s. The top causes are drownings at river-crossings and falls. In 2019, a 67-year-old man hiking alone died on the trail near Mather Pass after apparently slipping on a small patch of ice and hitting his head on a rock.

June is regarded as the most treacherous month to be on the trails. That’s typically the peak of seasonal snowmelt in the High Sierra, when summer’s heat flushes torrents of water through alpine streambeds that hikers must ford. Two female through-hikers drowned in Sierra river crossings in July 2017 following a winter of unusually high snowfall.

With so much new interest in long-distance treks, administrators like Aksamit feel more compelled to issue words of warning.

“I sound the alarm on posts that we get on June entries to caution solo hikers against tackling stream crossings on their own,” Aksamit said. “People think we’re fear-mongers sometimes, but a lot of people just don’t know what they’re getting into.”

An unlikely mentor has emerged this year. Doug Laher, a medical association executive from Fort Worth, Texas, has never set foot on the PCT or JMT. But last year, 11 days into his PCT adventure, Laher’s 22-year-old son, Trevor, slipped on an icy slope in the San Jacinto Mountains, near Palm Springs, and fell to his death.

The tragedy rippled through the trail community, in part because Trevor was a strong young man who appeared to be prepared for the hazards of high-mountain hiking. But also because Doug Laher has since accumulated a deep knowledge of trail dangers and spoken about his son’s death in painful detail on the culture’s niche podcasts and online forums.

“Most days I drift, merely existing in a world when everyone else is living,” Laher wrote. “But this helps: the idea that Trevor’s death didn’t happen in vain. There must be something good that rises from our tragedy.”

Trevor’s fateful trek appears to be sinking in as a cautionary tale. Doug Laher says he has received hundreds, if not thousands, of emails and Facebook comments from grateful hikers.

One came from Claire Stam, 24, of Jackson, Wyo., who hiked most of the PCT last year.

Trevor Laher’s death occurred two months before Stam’s hike began, and she had read an early account of the episode. After five months on the trail, Stam and her partner had put the bulk of the trek behind them when they encountered deep snow in Washington’s Cascade Range, 30 miles shy of the trail’s end at the Canadian border. While standing in a blizzard and considering whether to push on, Trevor’s story flashed into her mind. She and her partner decided to call off their hike and go home.

“I was so devastated,” Stam said. “Part of me thought I could do it if I really focused. But then I thought, Trevor probably thought the same thing. I knew that if he had a second chance, he would have made the decision that I made.”

Doug Laher’s message to through-hikers is straightforward: Do your research, carry appropriate gear and know how to use it, read the trail conditions and be prepared to abandon your hike. But to hikers who have in many cases dreamed about the PCT for years and rearranged their lives for the trek, turning away from a rushing river or snowy ridge can feel like chickening out.

“Sometimes through-hikers don’t know where to distinguish the line between discomfort and danger,” Stam said.

Still, Doug Laher intends to continue reaching out to hikers. “I’ve found my new purpose in life,” he said. “If I can influence a hiker’s decisions to be more safe, that’s a win.”

[lettersnorth]

                                         Lin and Luma Hatch a Plan

Lumarto had leaned up against the wall of the hut, staring outside as the rain came torrenting down through Fallgourd Float. "Maybe we should have checked with the weather before coming out..." Luma said, watching for a moment as he saw Aislinn coming in through the window. With a brief smile, he awaited for her to enter the abode.

Finding herself caught in the sudden downpour, Aislinn made a run for the small hut where she had arranged to meet Luma. Bursting in the door, she shakes off the rain from sodden sleeves and laughs a bit. She seems in good spirits but she's noticeably paler than normal, and out of breath. Catching sight of Lumarto, she nods and makes her way over. "Didn't really count on the rain when I suggested this place." she begins with little preamble.

Lumarto chuckled a bit. "The rain is rather sudden aye, but I doubt that changes our plans much." Luma said, carefully pushing off the wall before raising a hand in greeting accompanied by a smile. "Glad you could make it out here, Aislinn." Luma continued, nodding a bit to how the rain affected both of their attires as he sighed some. "You didn't get too soaked, I hope? When I arrived the storm was beginning."

"Lucky you got here when you did, then." She returns the smile and gives a half shrug. "Just the way of it. I'll dry out." she inhales a breath and looks around the small...shop? "The important thing is that we're away from the prying drone the Garlean has set up in Heartwood."

Lumarto nodded at that. "Indeed, so we can discuss that very same matter here." Luma said, moving a bit past Aislinn as he offered a seat to her on the bench before taking one for himself. "So, what was the plan you had in mind for discussing all the way out here? The company is making developments with 'Florus' so is that what this is about?" Luma continued, crossing his leg a bit as he adjusted himself in his seat.

Aislinn shook her head as she fluidly took a seat next to him. From the updates it sent her, she knew Sergius was handling the growing developments with Florus. "No. After our talk with Papachimo, I understand Rising had little luck in arranging a meeting with Momori." she pauses. "That's been on my mind lately." And why? She had no idea. There was little love lost between her and the lalafell. And yet..."I can't get that message in a fairytale out of my head. The one that she never received. Maybe it's too late but...I'm convinced we need to try and get it to her. The sooner the better." she eyes Lumarto, trying to gauge what the miqo'te thought on the matter.

Lumarto put his hand to his chin for a moment, looking out the window as he noticed the weather slowly get better with time. "Well, I was not around when the issues started to occur... so I am coming rather late to the search; the only updates I've received are from Haila and most recently after our talk with Papachimo." Luma said, turning back to Aislinn as he offered a weak smile. "I still remember all those days ago when Momori's first task had me find Inga and save her from those garleans and pirates... so I'd like to find out with my own eyes if Momori truly is as bad as everyone has been saying, or caught in a tight spot with no options but to push us off-- though, from what I heard it was more of her doing drastic things to get progress?..." Luma said, still a bit blurry on the details as he sighed some. "I would like to get her if possible, so I was planning to see if Rising had any other ideas. Did you have something in mind?"

Aislinn considered the matter. "That's why I asked you here. Two heads are better than one and I've, admittedly, been dealing with a personal issue elsewhere." she sighs. "But if she's not responding to our messages any more or...not getting them," Aislinn couldn't be sure which was the case "we can try and track her down by other means." she trails off, trying to gather her thoughts. How did one track down a secretive lalafell such as Momori? "Given the last aetherspring she needs to secure is in La Noscea, and the rapidity in which she and her Scholars got to the previous ones, I'd guess she must be somewhere on that island. Do you recall the villagers of Dirtpatch saying anything about seeing some white robed visitors? Anything strange?"

Lumarto nodded at that, followed by a brief hum of thought. "Two heads are indeed better than one." Luma said, listening to her speak as he paused some. "I recall them mentioning some adventurers that went out and we came across them afterwards; they were searching for Florus' bunker like we were. As for the scholars..." Luma said, sighing a bit. "I think I recall them mentioning something briefly, but in a small village like that its hard to get concrete info." Luma said, pausing for a moment as images of both Riylli's injuries and Inga's trauma flooded his head for a short period; his hand gripping a bit at the air. "Do you want to see if we're able to find those scholars?"

Aislinn tilted her head as if to say 'almost'. "Aye. Because I think she's -with- those Scholars." she goes on. "Momori made it clear from the beginning that she's the only one authorized to use the Helm. Once that aetherspring on the island is cleared, she has all intentions of moving in and using the Helm to redirect the aether currents there. It would only make sense they're relatively close by."

"Then do we have any leads? Or at least, a plan to try to stake-out and find them?" Luma added, watching Aislinn's drone float about as he would pet it as if it were a pet when it decided to scan near him. "I don't doubt your thoughts are right on the mark, so we'd need to act fast if we're to find her or any evidence of her whereabouts." Luma added, slowly reaching into his bag as he pulled out a small note pad. "Where should we start?"

Aislinn nods in agreement with Lumarto's assessment. Time was of the essence. After all, no one could be sure how long Haila and Sergius would be able to keep control of the aetherspring. "We should go back and speak with the villagers. See if they recall anything like the Scholars. There should be an A11Y somewhere out there as well, roaming all over, from what I've been told. It's less likely, but maybe we could get some information from it. Or..." she stops and quickly waves a hand, brushing whatever she was about to say aside. "No matter. If I have something on the front, I'll convey it when I do. But...." she eyed Lumarto. "Are you any good at tracking?"

Lumarto Wetyios raised at eyebrow, almost as if giving her a silent 'really?...' before chuckling lightly. "Aislinn, I lived in the Dravnian Forelands for nearly a year; and spent time there with my Griffin's. Of course I'm a good tracker." Luma joked some, making some brief notes on his paper regarding their plan and the need to track; some items being listed that he would need. "So you would like to investigate further into the A11Y? Or prioritize the scholars?" Luma asked, clearly looking for a single objective for them to follow. "Small goals make the overall goal easier to accomplish; so lets settle to find one rather than many-- even a single scholar for instance is easier than finding a team." Luma stated, writing a few more notes down. "Or would you have me scour the fields for both white-robed-man /and/ machine?" Luma stated, raising another eyebrow as he relaxed his posture.

At Lumarto's skeptical look, a faint smile of amusement chased its way across her lips. "I didn't want to -assume-." she said by way of explanation. As he took her overflow of words and ideas and calmly began to sort through them, honing in on their goal, she knew he had been the right person to go to. The methodical calmness of his nature helped her think more clearly. "Alright, I understand." she said, acknowledging her tendency to utter every idea that came to her mind. "Let's begin by revisiting the village. They might be able to point us in a direction, at the very least. Then we see if you can hunt down any sign of the Scholars. Last time in Coerthas, I'm given to understand they had a wagon with them to haul the contents of Florus' bunker away. If they did the same here, something like that has to leave a trail." she nods. "A11Y is a last resort."

Lumarto nodded at that. "Aye, step by step." Luma said, starting by marking an 'I, II, and III' onto his note pad as he made their plan. "Village revisit will be first and foremost; we can discuss with some of the villagers that frequent in and out of the Dirtpatch while gathering information from within-- I would like to avoid speaking with Inga's mother given the incident, but I can't decide that if she is a key informant for us." Luma said, jotting that down onto his notes under 'I'. 

"Secondly, we will set-up posts to try and spot the scholars hauling goods or at the very least coming in and out of the area. We may need to rely on your devices and my own, but otherwise masking our aether will be priority to be stealthy." Luma said, marking that off under 'II' as he added a few more notes for equipment they may need.”

Aislinn nodded along in silent agreement as he fleshed out the plan.

"Lastly, A11Y will be our third option or step. If we are able to uncover the scholars and their location that will go towards the company as we would need more bodies. The A11Y will be investigated and found, potentially giving us the information we need." Luma finished, marking that off under 'III' before showing his notes to Aislinn. "What do you think?" Luma said, his notes showing the detailed steps they were planning to perform as well as various equipment they would need ranging from inhibitors, binoculars, rations, cloaks, and so on-- a small asterisk by investigating the villagers just labelled 'Inga' as if stating his priorities.

Aislinn nudged her glasses back up the bridge of her nose as she looked over what he had written. "I think two heads are indeed better than one." she says with a small laugh. "Let's split the supply list. I can handle collecting any sort of devices and I've still a few of those aether masking prototypes back in my lab that should help. You gather whatever you need as far as field tracking goes." she taps the Asterisk by the name 'Inga' "And we won't talk to her mother unless its an absolute necessity." she hesitates, not quite sure -why- Lumarto wanted to avoid the woman. "Did things go poorly with her somehow?"

Lumarto stared at Aislinn, realizing that she was not there for the incident as he opened his mouth to speak but curled his lips as if having difficulty finding the words. "...Did you read the debrief yet, or heard any information about what had happened with Riylli?" Luma asked, staring at the '*Inga' on the paper before sighing softly at the thought.

Aislinn took a breath. From his tone, she gathered whatever it was, wasn't good news. "I admit I haven't had a chance to read the debrief. All I know of the encounter at Dirtpatch I've...heard second hand.'' She considered what to say. The logs she received from Sergius were incomplete, the data from the drone that was sent corrupted in the transfer. "I've heard there was a fight. Though I assumed I would have heard if the worst had occurred."

"During our confrontation with the other hired-mercs, Inga had been used as 'bait' by them to get information on us." Luma said; not entirely right or wrong. "Riylli had been the first to leap towards Inga to save her, only to be pelted by arrows and suffer rather serious wounds. Inga had to watch it all unfold as Riylli nearly bled out from within an earthen cocoon she created to defend herself." Luma stated, his voice growing softer and his gaze drifted down to his feet. "... She's too young to experience such trauma; and we had to explain at least a portion of such to her mother..." Luma said, sighing softly. "I don't want to get them involved in any way to prevent this from happening again; her mother and her had been through enough hell as is..."

Aislinn opened her mouth to say something, something soothing or even comforting but she couldn't find the words. Not a surprise. They always had a way of leaving her when it was important. Instead, she let go a long breath and said what came to mind. "You're right. She's too young. But she's also alive when it easily could have been otherwise." she glanced off across the quiet of the room. "And of course, we can't promise it won't happen again. "The best we can do is chase trouble back from their doorstep and, like you said, leave them out of it."

Aislinn North frowned a bit. "How's Riylli?" she asked

Lumarto nodded to her words; while it wasn't something 'soothing', it still made him smile as he at least warmed up a bit more after the cold topic. "Aye... that's the plan." Luma said, turning to Aislinn to show his brief smile as he carefully took the notepad from her. "When would you like to make the arrangements to search then? I could try to plan it for sometime this week, or I could expedite it for a few days from now." Luma stated, carefully closing his notepad after the fact. 

Once she asked about Riylli, he offered a light chuckle. "Riylli is... stabilizing... her state was not terrible to heal from, but she was still a bloody mess. Sedating her was the only option to not have her kick and scream during the arrow removals; plus, it made the healing process fun while she babbled like a drunkard." Luma said, chuckling a bit more after that; Aislinn cheered him up completely now.

In turn, -that- news concerning the taciturn Keeper had Aislinn’s face lighting up with silent laughter. "If only we could use sedation more freely." she wryly stated. Still amused, she considered Lumarto's question about timing. "I could be ready to go whenever you are. I still believe it's imperative we find Momori sooner rather than later. Let's not forget to pack the fairytales Papachimo entrusted us with. Otherwise it'll be a long trip for nothing."

Lumarto nodded at that. "We should make copies of those fairytales so that we keep the originals for our archives." Luma said, opening his notepad for a brief moment to jot that note down as he stretched his leg out before smiling to Aislinn. "We can probably try for early next week then; we need to procure everything first after all." Luma stated, gazing at her as if looking for her input.

Aislinn weighs the timeframe with a tilt of her head from one side to the other. "Aye, early next week. That should give me enough time to make sure my devices are in working order and take care of some last minute business." she agreed. A plan had been realized and put into place and Aislinn felt a weight of relief lift with the knowledge they had a way forward. She dips her head to Luma. "Thanks for hashing this out with me. -And- for agreeing to try and find her. "I don't know about hoping that the message makes an impact, but I know we need to deliver it."

Lumarto nodded at that. "And we /will/ send that message; whether she wants us to or not." Luma said, putting some emphasis on the 'not' as he tied up his notepad and stuffed it into his bag. "I want to get answers, and see why she is doing what she is... if she listens to us at all, I'll take it as a victory." Luma stated, slowly taking a stand as his leg almost fell asleep from his posture despite shifting at times. Carefully standing upright, he reached a hand to Aislinn to offer assistance. "Should I contact you when we are to begin our stake-out?"

Aislinn nods as she takes his offer and places her hand briefly in his own, pulling herself to her feet. She brushes her hands down her skirt, smoothing it into place. "Aye. I shouldn't be too far. I'll be around Heartwood making my own preparations."

Aislinn glances out the window to see if the rain has stopped. "Speaking of which, I suppose we should get on with it."

Lumarto chuckled a bit. "Indeed. I have to make a brief detour before heading back to the company, so I suppose we can leave things off here? I'm just grabbing some greens for Baby to be shipped out for later." Luma said, staring to Aislinn for a moment before smiling a bit. "...I'll ship a few extra for your Griffin if we decide what to do this week as well regarding Her."

Aislinn smiles at the thought of Baby and her clutch of fledgling griffins. "Ahh, I'm positive Ceinwen wouldn't turn her beak up at some of those greens." she laughed, nodding in reply to his kind offer. "But yes, far be it from me to stand in the way of Baby getting her shipment of greens. We'll meet back up at Heartwood." she offers Luma a smile and a parting wave. "We'll talk soon. Stay safe out there."

Lumarto nodded at that, waving her off as he approached the counter and cleared his throat for a moment. 'So, the usual 15kg... add another 5 please.' Luma said to the vendor; patting his lower back some as he knew he would be sore afterwards, but given his attitude this happened a lot.

Aislinn eyes his manner, taking it in with a sudden realization. "You're not actually carrying that yourself, are you?" she asks in surprise as she comes up alongside him. "I've Barnabas waiting outside. You're welcome to him." she said, speaking of her burly chocobo meant more for a Roegadyn than herself.

Lumarto chuckled a bit at that. "...Fine." Luma said, clearly a tad reluctant to ask for the help but he appreciated it all the same. "...I appreciate that, and my back does too. I'm sure Haila would appreciate not having my back sore from all the work I do either..." Luma chuckled some, handing the gil to the vendor as they made their preparations.

[figofswords]

chapter 1: leaving the winter village

(environment concept for the game I’m “developing” in one of my classes)

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

The Wolf Rises

⚔️ All Previous Parts Here ⚔️

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO (more in part two), slick, mpreg, Viking/god Col, fae Dom, slight PTSD, mentions of war and death, playful boys, heavily pregnant Dom, talks of wolf Col, vague mentions of shifted sex (if you squint, I'm just being careful), Tod fluff, mentions of sex, grinding, just lots of fluff and peace ☠️ rating: let's say explicit ☠️ ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

Dom sighed happily and grinned when his lover saw him from across the yard. He'd slept in a little late but who could blame him? There was a pup growing larger in his womb every day, weighing him down and exhausting all his energy. Well… he wasn't the only pup stealing the fae's energy, his father was a menace to society at large but certainly to his pregnant mate. No matter his form he was pawing at Damhnaic day and night. His palms rubbed slow circles under his swollen belly, the babe was resting lower than usual and driving him mad but he was more thankful than he could explain for all they had together. For a runaway prince his life was turning out next to perfect, though he still had nightmares sometimes about all they'd fought through to get where they were. He knew that might take a long time to work through and his lover gave him the support he needed. Always.

Kol'son dropped the ax he was using and wiped his brow before running to meet his wife at the steps of their hut. He worried about his prince every time he tried to waddle down them alone and he wondered where the bodyguard was that should have been babysitting. Of course he didn't have to ponder for long when he heard his cousin's laughter and saw the two fae stumble out of the forest.

It had been awkward for a while after they found out they were kin, less for them and more for Inga but they both knew she'd only lied so long to keep Mod safe. He was honestly surprised how much the village had warmed to him when they realized Modig wasn't mad- well wasn't just mad and high but he was magic and related to their clan mother. Before long they'd welcomed the new regime. He was finding himself more relaxed than ever before- he wasn't the only one in charge and he was getting his dick wet regularly. If not for his fear of Dom's impending delivery he couldn't fully shake he'd be ecstatic all the time.

"Don't growl. It ain't nice unless you taking me back to bed." Dom grumbled as his lover glared at their kin and he swat gently at the man's arm. He could get himself down the damn steps but he didn't mind the help, though he'd rather his daidí do exactly that, he swore he woke up hot and needy every day and it only got worse the closer they were to the day they met their whelp.

"Maybe I should eat him. I mean if he won't obey…" Kol trailed off, he was finding himself easier to anger since he first shifted but his love could always soothe his wild beast. He still didn't understand what was happening to him and he wasn't sure how to find out- but with a fae prince for a mate, a seal for a friend, and a nymph for a cousin he wasn't too shocked by the wolf he held inside himself. Well, his first night had been surprising but Dom had scratched behind his ears and held him close and eventually he'd shifted human again. He didn't believe the boy when he called him a demigod but he could never complain about his selkie thinking he was special. It was taking time but he was finally learning to control it and in those moments he couldn't- when the hold was too overwhelming he would push his snout against his mate's belly and breathe in that warm baby scent. He didn't know why his child smelled like fresh honeyed bread but he wouldn't complain. Mixed with the siren's rose, amber, and sea salt smell it was perfect.

"Try it puppy, I've got an army behind me." Mod joked back as the two finally joined them and Dom whined. He'd been hoping to lure his husband back to bed.

"No, I think my thrall has an army behind him. They just tolerate you." Kol'son huffed, poking his tongue out at the seer.

"Technically they follow Mush but… I'm sorry I have to agree here. They like Dom better, love." Tom teased his boyfriend. Those old instincts to side with his prince would probably never leave no matter how long he was with the one he called his mushroom man- or Mush for short. Dom had never thought he'd see the day that his best friend went soft but gods he was. They had truly found a home among the mixed clans- both human and fae and any other strays they picked up along the way.

The fae clan probably did like Dom a little more but he couldn't help everyone thinking he was precious. It was honestly annoying at times, he knew it was mostly that he was an incubator for… well, none of them were quite sure what the child would be, but it was a pleasant turn around from being alone so long. He and his kin were loved finally, he was loved. "What are you thinking about boy?" The Viking hummed, stepping up close behind his mate and wrapping his arms around him. The noise that escaped the siren when he gently lifted his stomach went straight to the god's cock and he couldn't stop himself from gently rutting against him. "Because if it's bed…"

Dom's lips curled in a slow smile, his fangs on sharp display as he turned his face up to his scarred and inked lover. "Mmm, you read me mind." The next sound he made was closer to a squeal when the man picked him up bridal style to drag him back inside. Kol no longer felt like he had to be outside constantly, he had other leaders of the clan to help him out. Where once it was almost impossible to convince him to hide away in their room together- he spent days in bed making love to his wife. Though he still had trouble not being available. Dom had tried convincing him to take a little trip deep into the forest and stay a few days in a little hideaway but it made the chieftain too nervous. Someday though, someday.

"Finish the wood Mod, I'm sure it would do you good to show off a little. I'm taking the afternoon off." Kol shouted to his cousin before they disappeared through the doorway and Dom caught the seer pout before he heard his friend laugh and say he would do it. He couldn't help thinking his mate saw Modig as more of the man between them- as he saw himself, but Damhnaic knew relationships didn't work that way all the time and truthfully the forest nymph was more like him than Tom was. He was trying to help his lover understand but… they tended to easily distract each other.

When Dom's feet touched the ground again he giggled, his husband was more handsy than he used to be, all nerves about his purity had fallen away as their breeding became visibly obvious. "Not fair of you. Come outside while I'm trying to take care of our people. Looking as you do." The Viking growled, licking his lover's throat as he untied the shift dress from his body.

"Oh? I didn't fink. You poor man. Jus' trying to do right by ya clan but 'ow can ya wiv a nymph about?" He teased, his cheeks flushing as the fabric fell away and he was left bare to his mate's heavy gaze.

Kol'son smiled, holding his boy closer as his cock slid gently between Dom's thighs to rest against his dripping wet core. His hands wandered, one cupping the siren's softly swelled tit and the other sliding under his stomach to cradle their son. Of course they weren't positive he was a boy but… Kol knew. They wouldn't raise their pups thinking the oldest was any more special than the others and they'd commanded their clans to treat them equal as well. The pain that befell his family would die with Bjørn. He vowed it to whatever gods would listen and to his wife. He would be a better father than his own, their babes would all feel loved. "I don't know who you're talking about boy, I wed a siren. No nymphs here." He purred, his hips shifting slowly, the head of his cock catching exactly where he was needed most with every playful thrust.

Dom whined but smiled wide, he loved how adamant his daidí was about teaching their children exactly what they were. He was proud of everything his wife was and he'd correct anyone who called him the wrong thing- including Damhnaic himself. He didn't think their pup could understand anything in the warmth of his womb but he wouldn't complain about the respect he was shown from the man he'd been so careful of early on. Who knew when he came to gather his second skin that night so many months before that he would find all he'd ever dreamed of and so much more? "Should you teach me a lesson?" He asked softly, his plush ass bouncing gently against his husband's abs.

"Mmm, should I worship you or should I make you worship me?" The Viking's voice was barely above a growl, his animalistic side so near to the surface when they got this close to making love. He couldn't help it. Dom just brought it out of him. So did rage but mostly his sweet gorgeous selkie. At the sound of his voice he felt a fresh rush of slick escape the boy and he found it almost impossible not to push right in. His mate deserved better though, he was carrying such a large load he deserved pampering... and perhaps another kind of load. Fresh and warm and dripping down his thick thighs. His lover's perfect pink pussy wasn't the only thing that reacted to his growls though and he chuckled at the feel of his son's foot pressing at his palm. "I believe his vote is you being cared for. Sorry queen, two to one."

Dom pouted at the man he once called his master but he had a far better term for him. "But I wanted to be on me knees for me god." His voice rasped and half shifted fangs nipped at his neck.

"Fuck. Such a good boy for me. Don't worry, you will be." The wolf growled, curling his fist around the base of his cock to hold back his pleasure. He led his prince to their bed and helped him get comfortable on all fours, perhaps it wasn't exactly what Dom had wanted but he was careful with his pack. Besides, it put him in the perfect position. Since he first shifted he couldn't help finding it hotter than he should when his lover presented for him. He felt made up of so much animal instinct but that was alright.

He was learning about things, Dom was helping him with books Bjørn had stolen from other lands. Of course he'd been shocked when they made love after his true self came out and he realized the pain in his cock that night had been… something strange- but he was starting to learn he was an alpha and that had just been his first knot trying to form. It was frightening having his dick change after twenty three years of life but nothing had ever felt more right than when they were tied together. It was the only thing he ever wanted to do.

"Daidí please?" The siren whimpered, his hips bucking back, his core dripping slick down his thighs. Kol couldn't help but admire a moment longer, his mate was curvier than he'd been before and he loved every place he could grope and caress. "Me god?"

"Fuck." The Viking cursed. His boy really should be careful if he didn't want to be mounted by a wolf instead. "If I wish to stare at you I will. You were a petulant thrall and now you're an even more stubborn queen. What did I get myself into?" He teased, spanking softly at the fae's perky ass. He knew though, he knew exactly what he'd gotten himself into- paradise and a happiness he'd never even dreamed he could find.

Author's Note/Tags: @manicpixiedreamb0y @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @cole-way-iero28 @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

🥹�� Thank you all so much for being on this journey with me. I'd like to admit something here, I've never truly been able to finish something like this. I always get lost along the way and nervous I'll ruin it. Honestly I've never even tried writing something so structured and novel-like. I'm more proud of this than I've been of anything I think, even though it's shorter than some it feels complete and real in a way I've not experienced before. I couldn't have written this without you, genuinely I wouldn't be doing as much as I have without you all. I always get overwhelmed and think I'm not good enough but all the comments and likes have been so inspiring.

This idea started with @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker and she's helped so much, so it's not just mine but she'll get annoyed if I try to give her too much credit. Seriously though, she's been amazing and I wouldn't have had the idea without her help. I hope she knows how thankful I am.

I hope you'll all join me for part two, there's so much more in store for these boys and their pack! I promise at least for a bit I'll give you fluff and happiness. Mostly. Thank you again, you've been incredible! I just hope you love this as much as I do! 🖤☠️

[swedextea]

teodora “tea” lindqvist: en introduktion

❙❙ ❙ ❚❙ ❚ ❚❙❙ ❚ ❙❙  𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎 → 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎 0MFS0318 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 ⤿

teodora “tea” lindqvist, better known as the vagabond, is currently a spy in the zeta division. the file lists them as headstrong and cynical, and originating from mölndal, sweden and currently located in the european sector. at the age of 23, they are currently a junior member and are in favor of the current mission. the file notes that they have the following associations: the crackling of fire on a cold night, bags of sweets only consumed on saturday, getting lost in a cloud of smoke, a collection of old lighters,  greysexual lesbian pride flags, & perpetually bruised knuckles  ✦ amalia holm bjelke.  cisfemale.  she/her. 

B A C K S T O R Y

TW:  Mentions of Murder; Stabbing; Death {parental}; Blood; Neglect; Drugs

Teodora {more commonly known as Tea} was born on the 21st of December in Mölndal, Sweden to Svante Stellan Lindqvist & his wife Inga Elsy Lindqvist {nee Läckberg}, two young scientists in the Society of Arcanus’s Omega Division: European Sector. Her father worked as an analytical toxicologist; and her mother worked as a genetic researcher. Both Svante and Inga were praised for their work and the accomplishments they made at such young ages, especially given their shared time with raising their two young daughters.

When Tea was seven, her baby sister Viktoria {more commonly known as Vika} was born; and the instant she was first given the chance to hold her baby sister, her whole world changed. She knew from that moment on, she would do anything and everything within her power to ensure her sister’s safety and happiness. She didn’t care if Vika’s birth meant less attention for herself. She loved her sister with all her heart.

Growing up, Tea’s life was pretty ideal for a child in her shoes. Her family lived in a large cottage in a well-off part of town. They had cleaning staff who came by the house once a week. She had all the dolls and books she could ever want. She was sent to the best private school in the nearby city of Göteborg {Gothenburg}; and once her sister was of age, she would be sent there as well. And best of all, she had two attentive parents who loved her.

Until one fateful September afternoon...

Just a week earlier, she had begun Högstadiet {7th grade}; and her sister had begin  Förskoleklass {preschool}. The two Lindqvist girls never in a million years expected to find what they found upon opening their front door after being dropped off by a family friend. Their house had been broken into, first evident by all the broken glass and furniture in the foyer. Tea had been about to call out for their parents when she noticed the red stains on the wall, a trail which ultimately led to a sight forever burned into the forefront of her mind. On the formerly white carpet of the living room lie her parents, both having had their throats slit and been stabbed repeatedly.

She never let Vika see the dead bodies, instead scooping up her sister before she could enter the room and running outside with her. She had no idea what had happened; but she knew she had to get as far from their house as possible. Whoever murdered their parents might have it out for her and her sister as well. 

The rest of that fateful day as well as what happened the next several days are still nothing but a blur to Tea. All she knows is her and her sister ultimately ended up in a children’s home in Göteborg called Västra Götalands län Hem för Barn {Västra Götalands County Home for Children}. 

From day one at the children’s home, it was an absolute nightmare. The place was overcrowded with not enough beds to go around. The food was always cold and sometimes moldy. The outside “playground” was beyond rusted and quite the safety hazard. Fights would break out between the children countless times a day. There was little medical attention given when needed. The staff didn’t seem to give a fuck regarding the children’s overall wellbeing... They only cared in terms of keeping up appearances when a couple came in to acquire about adopting a child.

Since Vika was only six and was absolutely adorable, it was no surprised a family showed interest in adopting her after only several months in the home. However, the family had zero interest in a clearly disturbed thirteen year old. The fact they didn’t want her big sister led young Vika to say no. She wouldn’t go with anyone unless her sister came too.

Tea unfortunately came to the understanding early on that the likelihood of someone wanting both Lindqvist girls was slim to none. This led her to begin encouraging her sister to accept the next offer for adoption she received. She couldn’t stand to see Vika with such sad, tired eyes. Her sister needed a proper home. And that home came just a month after the first family.

It was one of the toughest moments of her life watching Vika ride off with a new family. She never knew if she’d see her sister again; and while that thought pained her to the point she was physically ill, she had to keep telling herself it was for the best. Her sister would be safe. She’d have her own room and would never go to bed hungry. She’d have toys to play with and would attend proper schooling. And meanwhile, Tea could find some way to survive the children’s home until she aged out at eighteen.

The next two and a half years were brutal; and there were moments Tea questioned her ability to survive. She thought about running away numerous times; but she never knew where she would go. She had no idea where Vika was; and she had no other known family anywhere in Sweden. All she knew was she couldn’t last another two years in Västra Götalands län Hem för Barn. She had to get out somehow.

So after much contemplation, she packed a small rucksack with the few belongings she owned and climbed out the window of her share room, scaling the side of the building until she could safely jump into one of the bushes below. From there, she ran. She had no destination in mind; so she ran until her legs collapsed beneath her.

She spent the next year hitchhiking through Sweden, picking up odd jobs here and there in order to pay for the occasional hot meal or cheap youth hostel. Near the end of her first year away from the children’s home, she met someone {called Monika} with whom she’d end up traveling with for the next several years.

Tea and Monika acquired passports {illegally} and ended up taking trains all throughout mainland Europe. She never questioned how they acquired anything they did or how they could afford the constant traveling. All she knew was she was glad to once again know where her next meal would come from and that she could finally get a proper hat and coat for those brutal winter nights.

While travelling, Tea made the executive decision that she wanted to follow in her parents’ footsteps someday and join the Society of Arcanus. But since her education had been halted as a young teen, she figured the Omega Division was out of her league. Then again, she figured all of the divisions were out of her league. She had no real skills to offer, no formal training, no connections... She had nothing. 

To make a long story short, she did everything she could while travelling to somehow make herself good enough to join Arcanus. With Monika’s encouragement and support, she began to train. She channeled her pent up aggression and grief into mixed martial arts. She studied poisons and languages and weapons and computers. She even went as far as taking justice into her own hands on more than one occasion. And in the end, it wasn’t all for naught.

Once of age, Tea formally joined the Society of Arcanus’s European Sector as a junior member and spy within the Zeta Division. She’s been with them ever since. She knows she still has much to learn in terms of what it means to be a spy; but she’s proven to be a quick study. When she’s not mouthing off, she’s quite the hardworking young woman. She wants to make something of what her life’s become; and she hopes maybe someone in the Society can help her find her sister. Even if she never speaks to Vika again, she just wants to know she made the right choice in pushing her sister to accept the offer for adoption. 

M I S C E L L A N E O U S 

Tea is pronounced “TAY-uh”. 

She has aquagenic urticaria {which means she is technically allergic to water}... but she’s vowed to keep this a secret as she doesn’t want it hindering her becoming a better spy.

She suffers from severe claustrophobia due to events occurring whilst at the children's home in Göteborg {Gothenburg}. 

The way to her heart is with a bag of surskalle {skull shaped sour gummy candies}, coffee, or a fat joint.

Whiskey is her drink of choice; she drinks it on the rocks.

She identifies as a homoromantic greysexual.

While raised Lutheran, she is now a practicing Neopagan. 

She is tiny, coming in at only 1.53m {5ft} tall.

As an avid reader, she almost always has a book or two in her bag.

Music is her outlet; and she can almost always be found with earbuds dangling from one or both ears.

She always carries both a lighter and a switchblade on her person; and she’s not afraid to use either of them.

Her weapon of choice tends to be throwing knives/stars; but she’s not against using a switchblade or a lighter or brass knuckles or the occasional handgun/pistol.

She has two blackbelts, one in judo and the other in taekwondo. 

She has a pet black rat called Sofus who sometimes hangs out in her coat pockets.

She absolutely loves the characters from Moomin and has several Moomin related items she treasures very much.

Due to her preference for cold weather, she is known for keeping her room/accommodations at Nordic levels of cold. 

She got her first tattoo whilst living on the streets after leaving the children’s home: it was an algiz {the rune of protection} on the back of her neck, gifted to her by a tattoo artist who’d found her sleeping in the alleyway near their shop. 

Don’t ask; but she may or may not have had her first kill at the age of 14 but made it to look like an accident.

more coming soon...

click here for biography page

[bad-at-names-and-faces]

Seasonal Drabble

I ended up writing a Seasonal Drabble...  

“Mama!  Papa!  Aunt Elsa!  Come here!  Come quick!”  Inga squealed, grabbing her aunt’s hand.

Anna and Kristoff got up and followed as their daughter ran down the hall, braids trailing behind.  

They heard Olaf giggling.  Inga let go of her aunt’s hand and ran over to Kristoff, who was trailing behind.

“Come on, Papa!” 

He obliged, letting her pull him up to the ballroom door, slightly ajar.  They could hear Freddy giggling now.

“Surprise!” Olaf yelled when they opened the door all the way.  

“What…” 

Freddy toddled toward them, leaving a trail of moss and fungus.

“See!  Freddy is Flemmy!”

[architectnews]

Architect Alison Killing wins Pulitzer Prize for exposing alleged Chinese internment camps

British architect Alison Killing has become the first of her profession to win a Pulitzer Prize for reportage with a series of articles revealing a network of Chinese prison camps allegedly built to incarcerate Muslims.

Killing, who is an architect and geospatial analyst based in Rotterdam, is thought to be the first architect to win a prestigious Pulitzer journalism prize for writing rather than criticism.

She won the 2021 Pulitzer Prize in International Reporting together with reporter Megha Rajagopalan and programmer Christo Buschek.

Killing used her expertise in forensic analysis of architecture and satellite images of buildings to expose secret camps allegedly built by the Chinese state in the Xinjiang region to imprison Uighurs, Kazakhs and other Muslim minorities.

268 internment camps identified

The detainment infrastructure was unveiled in a series of articles for Buzzfeed News, which were published from August to December 2020.

The Pulitzer jury awarded the team the prize for "a distinguished example of reporting on international affairs, using any available journalistic tool." Killing, Rajagopalan and Buschek won $15,000 for their work.

Killing identified the prison sites by comparing areas on China's map tool Baidu Maps with images from external satellite data providers and seeing which areas were blanked out on Baidu Maps.

An original list of over five million censored locations was narrowed down to 50,000. Killing then went through them by looking for compounds that might be camps before confirming 268 of them.

However, the Chinese Consulate in New York described the alleged detainment of Muslims as a "groundless lie" and told Buzzfeed News that human rights are protected in the centres and that "trainees have freedom of movement".

"The issue concerning Xinjiang is by no means about human rights, religion or ethnicity, but about combating violent terrorism and separatism," it said.

"Xinjiang has set up vocational education and training centres in order to root out extreme thoughts, enhance the rule of law awareness through education, improve vocational skills and create employment opportunities for them so that those affected by extreme and violent ideas can return to society as soon as possible," the consulate added.

Architecture skills "invaluable in analysing the detention compounds"

Killing's background as an architect proved helpful in finding where the camps might be, she told Dezeen.

"It meant that I had a good knowledge of how to work with maps and satellite imagery and to accurately identify buildings and other objects when viewed in two dimensions from above," she said.

"It has also been invaluable in analysing the detention compounds," she added. "It meant we were able to produce a detailed 3D reconstruction of one of the camp buildings based on satellite imagery, construction knowledge and our interviews with former detainees."

Architects can make a "valuable contribution" to investigation of social issues

Killing's studio Killing Architects uses architecture and urban planning skills to investigate urgent social issues. It is also behind Migration Trail, a project that used maps, data, audio and social media to follow the story of two fictional migrants travelling to Europe.

Killing believes that architects can play an important role in helping to investigate social issues.

"I think architects can make a valuable contribution to investigating and explaining the spatial aspects of these issues – those aspects aren't always well understood and our skills, in spatial analysis or construction knowledge, for example, aren't common outside our profession," she explained.

Killing's work has similarities with that of Forensic Architecture, a research agency that uses architectural techniques to reconstruct events spatially and has investigated events including the killing of Mark Duggan and the Grenfell Tower fire.

The Pulitzer Prize was founded by newspaper publisher Joseph Pulitzer, who made provisions for its establishment in his will in 1904. It gives out 22 awards split over two categories: Journalism and Books; and Drama and Music.

A Special Citation and Award is also given out each year and was given to Darnella Frazier this year, with the motivation "for courageously recording the murder of George Floyd."

Former Pulitzer Prize winners include Ernest Hemingway, Toni Morrison and John Steinbeck. In journalism, a well-known winner is The Washington Post for its 1972 investigation of the Watergate case.

Killing's work won the International Reporting category. Previously five writers have won Pulitzer Prizes for architectural criticism.

These are Inga Saffron of The Philadelphia Inquirer, Paul Goldberger of The New York Times, Blair Kamin of Chicago Tribune, Robert Campbell of The Boston Globe and Allan Temko of San Francisco Chronicle.

A number of recent projects have used design and architecture to comment on political moments, including the Brick Arches roadblocks which won the People's Choice category at Designs of the Year 2020 and an installation of pink seesaws that connected children on either side of the US-Mexico border.

The post Architect Alison Killing wins Pulitzer Prize for exposing alleged Chinese internment camps appeared first on Dezeen.