#moira + quick drawn.

[unfogged-arc]

@quick-drawn ♡'d for a tiny moira thing!

"Are you going to stare at me judgmentally until I say yes?" She does not particularly want to join him and the other Blackwatch members out for a night together, but camaraderie and teamwork, etcetera. She doesn't wish to look like she's not being a team player, though — she's already on thin ice after all with her latest experiment.

[unfogged-arc]

Of all people who could have found her like this, Jesse McCree is hardly the one she would want. Granted, she would prefer nobody find her like this, keep this moment away from prying eyes, keep it a secret close to her chest. Instead, this souped up cowboy is here, talking back to her as if he has any control over what she does.

But there's a thought in the back of her mind forcing its way to the forefront –– he may just be right. She is not alright, in any sense of the word, not in this moment. She is in severe pain, and even she doesn't believe she could fake it enough for him to leave her alone. Still, she cannot admit defeat so easily.

With her back still turned to him, she wipes her eyes with her hands, wiping away the evidence of tears from her cheeks. The redness of her eyes are a dead giveaway as she turns around, but she can only do so much about that in the moment. She clears her throat, letting her arms fall to her side, making every attempt in the world not to wince at the weight of her arm pulling her shoulder.

"I am perfectly fine," she tells him, though her voice wavers. Moira can't seem to meet his eyes, can't seem to stop the bitter prick of tears against her eyes once more. "I do not need your concern nor your pity. What did you come here for, Jesse?"

LATE is an understatement. It's early morning now, three in the morning to be exact, and the jingling sound of spurs echoed up and down the empty corridor. Jesse's wandering the halls, not in search of anyone in particular, but rather something — ANYTHING to decompress the tension headache that's been holding him hostage for a few hours now. Even if that meant scrounging through a few random desk drawers for some tylenol...the goal being to find some BEFORE making it all the way down to the medbay. But three random offices and two service desks into the search, it's becoming more difficult for him to keep his hopes up — but he can see the light at the end of the tunnel, quite literally, coming across the first lab with it's lights still on. Though almost instantly CRUSHED after realizing exactly who's lab it is...

He can hear her now — what sort of DOCTOR is it you think I am? To which he audibly scoffs and rolls his eyes as he approaches the door anyway.

"Knock, knock." announced rather than performed. It's a bad habit of his, walking into spaces unannounced — but never once considered it a habit to break, until now. He's very clearly INTERRUPTED something; and while that's nothing new, it's what he intruded upon that instantly stops the agent in his tracks. And he stares brazenly, even as she tries to stave off his unwanted gaze.

Seeing such outward emotion from one he always thought to be so glacial — so detached and numb...it had his own features twisting up in a sort of PAIN.

"Sorry — but that ain't an OPTION." He doesn't get any closer, not wanting to overstep boundaries any more than he already has, but he doesn't back down either. Hands sit to hips as his head tilts out of curiosity, maybe a hint of concern wrinkling his brow. Jesse may not consider them the best of friends, hardly COWORKERS at times; doesn't mean he wants to see her like this.

" — 'least not 'til you can tell me with a straight face you're alright."

[todoslosdiasdemivida]

"when y'say your pain's 'four outta ten', that's a NORMAL person's 'eight outta ten' — i'm takin ya to th'med bay."

[ @quick-drawn​ ]

“It’s nothing–– Nothing that they can help with,” he answers after a moment to catch his breath that the last spike of pain had stolen away from him.

It’s exhausting sometimes. 

Most days, it’s a non-issue. There’s a baseline and it’s easy to ignore, because it’s been there in the background for longer than he cares to remember. But then there are some days, days like today when he had sustained injuries on top of his baseline.

It’s harder to deal with the usual when more gets added to it.

“All they’ll do is tell me that exactly, and then they’ll either instruct me to stay for observation on something they know they can’t do anything about just for the sake of covering their asses, or they’ll send me home after an hour or more of wasted time. I don’t really feel like rolling the dice on which it is. I want to go home. Now. Not tomorrow or in a few hours.”

“You want to help? Help with that.”

[eppyminecart]

So since ive posted this idea (totally didnt have these guys drawn for like over a month just never posted) But now we have another entry to this little series, say hello to researcher moira. Since she would absolutely jump onto the opportunity of an entire worlds worth of genetics to find a use for them all. So in her lab she has people send her samples and slimes to experiment on. One of her biggest projects is figuring out how to make a 3 slime hybrid without it turning it into a tarr. Which had frustrating levels of dependability of that happening. Yet when she first arrived she was happy to see someone as driven to figure out the mysterys of these content little blobs, she became quick friends and friendly rivals with viktor After a long day of trying to dissect something that refuses to be cut, taking samples from archipelago and spending hours reading, rereading and comparing her research to other information available. Then doing it all over again getting just a sliver further. She drags herself from her lab, sluffing off her rubber gloves and boots and throws her apron haphazardly at a coat rack. Finally back in the comfort of her quarters picking a fresh moondew nectar she had cultivated just to keep her little flutter slime Tangerine fed and happy. Before promptly collapsing in her bed.

[amadaans]

WHAT COLOR IS YOUR AURA?

MOIRA O'DEORAIN.

crimson. rose vines, blood, apples, velvet, sharp nails, galaxies, dripping jewelry. your essence is crimson: you are the strong, defiant and avoidant. you crave some sort of deviation; to walk in another's footsteps feels mundane, a waste of your time. you are possessive and never look back at the things you've lost or forgotten. you are the rebel. you are the one who will change the world. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of red, blush, garnet, and bronze, who share your impassioned existence. you are also drawn to the confident souls royal and gold, who will help you grow and show that not everyone seeks to break you. however, you may struggle to get along with the slow-acting personalities of navy and umber who never seem assertive about anything.

EITHNE MARKEY.

ashen. old newspapers, smoke, quiet cities, pale cheeks, pebbles, chalk, the clouded moon. your essence is ashen: you are warm but vacant, an empty canvas waiting to be painted. your heart is soft; there is a peace that seems just out of reach, but it is worth striving towards. perhaps lost, you comfort yourself by what you can, and you are never unwelcome. you are the dreamer. you are the wanderer. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of chiffon, hickory, beige, and ivory, who share your aspirations for goodness. you are also drawn to the inspiring and kind lavender and peach, who will help you grow and open you to find yourself. however, you may struggle to get along with the strong-willed personalities of periwinkle and tawny who put themselves first.

OPHELIA YATES.

honey. friendship bracelets, beehives, school busses, children's books, flower petals, honeyed toast, polaroids. your essence is honey: you are devoted and endlessly enthusiastic. your friendships are your security; you shroud yourself with people who make you smile and feel lost at sea without them. often you are quick to dedicate yourself to whatever hand feeds you. you are the companion. you are the confidant. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of peach, marigold, yellow, and orange, who share your love of teamwork. you are also drawn to the streamlined souls terracotta and chiffon, who will help you grow and discover your own confidence. however, you may struggle to get along with the heedless personalities of orchid and chartreuse who seem like fair weather friends.

tagged by: no one tagging: @sorrowsick (yan and rosie), @redridcr (tahno and charlie), @clawsextended, @miidnighters (hartley and lulu), @epistrefei, @hegrowth @chrcmatics (parker), @fangmother, @soulmissed, @rcjoice, @monmuses (ana), @torntruth (kristen), @starlyht (sol), @wildskissed, @unclejackworthing, @zheurgeist, & you!

[suicidalgamergirl]

Playing Pokémon Violet again made me muse about OverWatch. I know I only played 25 hours of said game and feel like playing a support unit isn’t a good idea for a newb player.

I tried playing Brigette and Kiriko. I just didn’t feel ok. Been playing Moira too. But I just feel an attraction to LifeWeaver, which lead me to finally play said game.

I think his bio light and character story was cute. Though it sucks I missed out getting the Lotus skin. I thought his abilities and outfit made me think he’s a magical girl persona in a cybernetic world. I wanna play as him in quick plays, but I been lectured by kids saying I’m a crappy player when I’m playing as him.

Everyone loves the new Season 6 support too. Which miffs me. I do like her skins too. I may try to find an image of her to try drawing on Procreate app.

Another thing, I’m not against shipping characters and I’m not against OW x Reader fics. Hell, I was into yaoi as a tween and didn’t realize it was stereotypical on the LGBTQA+ couples. I know better now. But I really see bad tropes happening in the Hanzo x Cassidy tag. Their art and stories are decent, which is helping me to draw guys better. I’m not hating Yeehan. Both are attractive guys and both tend to work solo. Hence their frustrations kinda lead into a budding relationship.

I want to to do an Overwatch fic. I read Sojourn. Most lore I have are the comics. I had read the PDF of Pharah and Baptiste coming out. I just wish I can find better outlets for my comic. I did deal with self harm, real life and drawn out, but I dunno how to play out for a update comic on TGTN tumblr.

Thanks for listening to my rant. I dunno why people even follow my stuff.

[imhere-whatugonnadoaboutit]

Moira O'deorain x reader

You had always been fascinated by Moira O'Deorain. From the moment you saw her, you were drawn to her intelligence, her wit, and her undeniable charm. You had never met anyone like her before, and you knew that you wanted to know her better.

One day, you found yourself alone with Moira in her laboratory. You had been working on a project together, and the rest of the team had gone home for the night. You could feel the tension between you, and you wondered if she felt it too.

Moira turned to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know," she said, "I've been thinking about you a lot lately."

You felt your cheeks flush with heat. "Really?" you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Moira stepped closer to you, her hand reaching out to touch your arm. "Yes," she said. "I find myself drawn to you, more than I ever thought possible."

You looked into her eyes, seeing the depth of emotion there. You knew that this was more than just a casual attraction. You felt the same way about her.

Moira leaned in closer, her lips just inches from yours. You could feel her breath on your skin, and you knew that you wanted to kiss her. You closed your eyes, waiting for her to make the first move.

And then, suddenly, the door to the laboratory burst open. You and Moira sprang apart, startled by the intrusion.

It was one of your colleagues, looking flustered and out of breath. "Sorry to interrupt," she said, "but we have an emergency. We need to leave right away."

You and Moira exchanged a quick glance, both of you knowing that this was not the end of your story. You would find a way to be together, no matter what obstacles stood in your way.

As you followed your colleagues out of the laboratory, you felt Moira's hand slip into yours, squeezing it tightly. You knew that this was the beginning of something special, and you couldn't wait to see where it would take you.

_______________________________________

Please look at my pinned post concerning credits for these fanfics.

[vastiitas]

Which two Greek gods are your parents?

Ares & Athena

Oh, sweet child of battle and law! Your father is the untamed idol of war, and your mother crowned of wisdom and war. A life of greatness stands before you dictated by power, restraint, and logic. No man can tell you what realm you preside over, but look to themes of truces and duels as you grow into your power.

TAGGED BY: stolen

TAGGING: @healingbrews @aquicksojourn @xrevolucionario @mercymedic @lightinsonder (kiri or ashe) @chronal-anomaly @quick-drawn @spungolden @unfogged (gabe & moira) @feretra (salome) @redridcr (i want 2 see all ur kids laskdjfs ur gonna just have to pick-)

[monsieuroverlord]

Comic Book Thoughts of the Day!

Uncanny X-Men #2

The outliers are cute. I have mixed feelings about adding more characters to such a huge cast as the X-Men (especially with so many underutilized characters as is) but they're interesting! They all have very unique powersets and backgrounds and I want to see how they develop. Deathdream and Ransom are my current favs.

Wolverine #1

Sure, why not? We'll see, I guess.

Spoilers:

Uncanny X-Men Summary: quick fight between the Outliers (mutant kids) and our New Orleans X-Men, interspersed with a flashback of Charles Xavier at College and meeting a young woman named Sarah, who was a love interest prior to even Moira. There's also a scene at Graymalkin prison, implying that surely Charles Xavier is dead. Back to New Orleans, Jubilee also shows up and reunites with everyone! She breaks up the fight and Rogue calls Kurt to come join them.

In Uncanny, I don't know what Logan means by "not all the kids survived" (I'm paraphrasing here) and that's his reasoning for no longer wanting to mentor kids. I mean, maybe he's referring to Hope? Otherwise, I don't remember anyone explicitly NOT surviving/getting resurrected. Even Akihiro was resurrected in the most convoluted fashion and him and Logan separated on relatively decent terms.

Maybe there's a secret death we don't know about.

I mean, I'm kind of glad both here and in Wolverine, he is actually sad and grieving (still maintain Wolverine #50 was seriously lacking in that), but the impact isn't hitting me, you know? He's just generically sad. There's not much depth to it. It could develop more in his solo though.

This issue is mostly more set-up! We get a Siryn appearance, plus some flashbacks of Professor X that appear to set up the history between him and the new villain, the latter being the one kidnapping mutants and collecting bounty from Dr. Ellis, the head of the Graymalkin prison (formerly the X-Mansion).

In Wolverine, Logan is fully naked the majority of the issue:

The Kurt and Logan reunion was lovely, and this hug was very sweet, but Logan is FULLY naked. Not even animal fur loincloth. (Kurt has known him too long to give a damn, apparently. )

We get tasteful shadows and tasteful shadows ONLY!

In summary, Logan was living with wolves again. Cyber is hunting him down and kills his wolf pack. Kurt also shows up, hunting him down. Kurt finds Logan first, they hear screams nearby from a camp. Logan dons his Wolverine suit to help campers (turns out Cyber attacked them to draw Logan out). Cyber grazes Kurt's skull and knocks him out. Logan tracks Cyber down and beats the everloving shit out of him. He only stops when Cyber appeals to Logan's softer side by claiming Kurt is probably bleeding out and dying by now. Cyber escapes to a cave and is possessed by shiny gold metal.

The shiny gold metal that appears to have living properties. It also appears drawn to adamantium as a "false metal" -- maybe the big added mythos is that silver adamantium is an artificial, man-made substance and this gold is the raw, pure form. Whatever that entails, I'll guess we'll find out.

Height difference is also peak:

[tamedgod]

overwatch verse basic information;

   Haru and Xiao were with Overwatch in its later stages, mostly getting along well with others in the organization. When the pair were brought onto Blackwatch, they offered to be a part of Moira’s experimentation to help the cause. While Haru ended up backing out and getting reassigned to Overwatch’s main team (couldn’t stomach Blackwatch’s work), Xiao leaned into it, becoming the “World Eater” as he’s known today.

   When Overwatch was dissolved, the pair went very separate ways. Former support unit Haru traveled the world, now and then meeting up with old colleagues like Angela Ziegler to collaborate where help was most needed, but mostly remaining on her own. She is a very private person and hasn’t talked much about her walkabouts. Former tank unit Xiao, on the other hand, returned to his family’s crime organization, taking over when his father passed away and partnering with Talon to move weapons and cargo. While he itches for battle, a part of him laments letting go of his friends in Overwatch, particularly Haru.

Xiao “World Eater” Long abilities;  - Primary Fire; Halberd melee  - Alt Fire; Halberd melee knockback  - R1; Axe throw (can pierce multiple targets)  - L1; Dragon Rage (taken damage briefly halved, damages units in very small aoe)  - Ult; World Eater (slows enemies, halves enemy life in aoe)  - Passive; Death Touch (lingering poison damage after successful attacks)

Haru “Shironeko” Niya abilities;  - Primary Fire; Heavenly light (steady close-range heal)  - Alt Fire; Lance strike/slash  - R1; Cauterize (quick heal, limited with cooldown)  - L1; Magnet (enemies will be drawn to unit instead of allies, long cooldown)  - Ult; Scout Sight (see enemy ult charges and cooldowns)  - Passive; Influence (small aoe that boosts ally damage)

               MORE IN DEPTH TIMELINE HERE.

[unfogged-arc]

@quick-drawn ♥️'d for an overwatch muse! moira + cassidy.

"Do you never tire of gunslinging around the world, Cassidy?" Moira tilts her head just slightly at her old teammate, a hint of a smile on her sharp features. "And I hear you are now in leadership of our old mother organization." She tsks, shaking her head in mild disappointment. "I had higher hopes for you, my little cowboy."

[lewdladylily]

Chapter 2 AO3 Link Nothing explicit this chapter

One Month Ago.

Humans were a young lived species. Barely a century for the oldest among them, but they reproduced in such numbers that it was impossible that they didn’t find their way to every corner of the planet in quantities that practically guaranteed that any and all civilization on Earth was dominated by humanity. In theory there were valid competitors, many of which could hold great power or live effectively forever. Vampires, werewolves, elves, even dragons. But quantity beat quality every time, mostly because the oldest and most powerful had long ago come to the conclusion that direct interference simply wasn’t worth it. 

Satya was among the most ancient. She’d watched as humanity rose and fell and rose again, society burned to the ground and new nations formed, magic and technology virtually wiped out only to be built back up from near scratch. They were nowhere near where they had been when Satya was sired those millennia ago, but it was impressive nonetheless to watch them strive for something better. Maybe they’d even reach her standards some day.

She hoped so at least. Satya liked humans. They were endlessly fascinating creatures, hardly worthy of the contempt the majority of her kind felt towards them. What they were born as could hardly be held against them, and Satya was of the firm opinion that the panicky, desperate, and often brilliant creatures deserved a shepherd, not a slaughter.

That said, a woman had to eat.

The little city Satya had chosen for tonight’s hunt wasn’t exactly a bustling metropolis, but there were enough people that someone disappearing now and then would hardly set off alarms. It helped that Satya jealously guarded her claimed territory, and all human settlements within. If a vampire or werewolf or anything else wanted to hunt one of her humans, they needed her permission, which she rarely gave. As a result, her humans were never quite as careful as others might be concerning creatures of the night. Case in point, the young woman walking through the back alleys that Satya had been tailing for a few minutes now.

Normally Satya might have had to employ some small amount of her considerable ability to conceal herself, but the woman had her nose buried in a book, a tiny candle of a light spell illuminating the pages, walking a familiar path on automatic. In the dead of night. 

It was a safe city, but this was just reckless.

She could have taken the girl at any moment, and indeed that had been her plan - a quick hunt before returning to her estate - but she could hardly find enjoyment in snatching such an oblivious target. No running, no begging, no game of cat and mouse. Satya normally would have already moved on, but there was something intriguing about the woman’s messy blonde hair and disheveled uniform and perpetual squint with her nose firmly stuck in a book, walking through the city on auto pilot and occasionally bumping into things because she cared more about reading the next paragraph than properly watching where she was going.

So she followed as the woman made her way home, observed as the woman prepared a midnight meal, and watched the woman fall to sleep, all the while reading her book until it slipped out of her hand, off the bed, and onto the ground with a thud. 

Satya silently dispelled the lingering light the woman had been reading by before picking up the book the human had found so engrossing. 

Theory of Surgical Magic, Moira O'Deorain

It was a dense text, filled with complex descriptions and graphic, hand drawn diagrams of surgical procedures assisted by magic in actually clever ways, not simple brute forcing healing. The book was clearly ahead of its time, if Satya was at all tuned in to the current state of medical technomancy nothing like this was being practiced on a large scale. An interesting choice for bedtime reading.

Scattered around the young woman’s disorganized living space were further signs of the woman being a bit of a disaster, if a brilliant disaster. More medical texts, piles of unfolded laundry, carefully bottled samples of magically active plants, there were even hand written notes, On Potential Uses for Magical Herbs and Fungi for Targeted Regeneration, By Angela Ziegler . Pretty name.

Satya placed Angela’s book on the nightstand before turning to the woman herself. She knelt next to the bed, carefully touched a finger to Angela’s head and channeled a short lasting deep sleep spell. Once it took root Satya leaned in, gently stroking Angela’s arm as she pressed her face into the woman’s neck, her lips feeling the pulse of blood rushing just under the skin, tongue searching for the ideal spot where she would gently rest her fangs and pricking the skin for the smallest taste of rich blood laced with delicious magic. A witch then? The woman probably didn’t even know. 

As she drank the slow trickle of blood she drew in a long, deep breath, taking in every aspect of Angela’s smell. Young, vibrant, full of life. It was a smell Satya would remember.

And then Satya drew back, pulled the covers over her human to ensure she wasn’t too cold, and in the next moment was gone.

The following morning was typical for Angela in nearly every way. She got ready to go, ate a quick breakfast, and made sure to grab professor Moira’s book before she left. The only odd thing was a tiny wound on her neck. Maybe a bug bite? It was probably nothing to be worried about.

Make Your Choice Chapter 1

Overwatch Vampire AU Mercy (Victim)/Symmetra (Vampire) Non-Con Explicit (not this chapter) AO3 Link

Summary: Satya, Vampire Mistress, has set her sights on a particular human, beautiful and brilliant. She could take her at any moment, of course, but Satya has a more interesting game in mind for Angela.

Angela ran as fast as she could, ignoring how the branches and thorns were tearing at her skin and clothes. She was lost, but that hardly mattered with the monster so close on her heels. If she slowed for even a second she would be caught and it would all be over. 

Not that she was truly capable of escape. She knew she was being toyed with. The monster liked to see her panic and run. But the monster was cocky, giving Angela the slightest of hopes that it might make some mistake.

“Come, little bird, am I really so frightening?” The vampire asked in an amused tone. The voice seemed to come from all directions, mocking Angela's attempt to run from the monster. There was no way out, she didn’t even know where she might run to, and the vampire must have been right on her heels.

It was then that Angela saw a sliver of sunlight through the thick trees. She made a mad dash for the light, burning every reserve she had for a desperate few seconds as she pushed through dense vegetation before bursting into the light and collapsing on the ground, crawling further into the light, making sure nothing could reach her from the shadows as she gasped great breaths of air, recovering from her sprint. She felt like she was going to vomit. 

“Clever little bird, have you found a place to hide?”

Again, the voice came from everywhere and nowhere, inescapable. Angela wanted to cover her ears and hide from the voice, but she knew she had no such luxury. Instead she looked up, more carefully examining the clearing she found herself in. 

The clearing was against a rock cliff face with no trees growing in a rough semicircle of about three meters due to an enormous boulder set Into the ground. The area was lit with sunlight only because of the current angle of the sun.

“Or perhaps you found yourself a lovely little cage.”

Angela startled, head whipping towards the source of the voice - for the first time the ethereal voice that had hunted her was solid, coming from a single location. She was finally able to see clearly the figure she had only caught glimpses of through the trees.

The vampire was perfection, beauty, and grace made into a single being, tall and imposing as she looked down on Angela with ruby red eyes filled with mirth, like Angela was a pet engaged in mischievous behavior and not a person fighting her life. Where Angela was covered in scratches and even bloody in places, to say nothing of her torn clothes, the chase hadn’t so much as displaced a single strand of the vampire's lovely hair or torn her stunning, flowing dress, which Angela could hardly help but notice fit closely to the vampire’s form to a degree that would have been considered scandalous back in the city. But most striking to Angela was the rich, warm color of her dark skin - Angela had been taught vampires had skin with a touch of ashen gray, a sign of their true nature. If this was true, then the woman who stood above her was the exception. She was easily the most beautiful woman Angela had ever seen. 

Curiously, he vampire also seemed to have a prosthetic arm, but unlike the crude carved limbs used in the city, the arm was made of metal and several materials Angela didn't recognize, mostly hard and shining and white. The vampire also seemed to enjoy full range of motion in the arm by some mechanism or magic Angela could not guess at. 

While Angela gawked, the vampire broke the silence. 

“I know I've been cruel and you are desperate, but you know this little cage will not save you?” the vampire asked, her voice gentle, as if humoring a child.

God's, even her voice is beautiful! Angela thought 

Angela looked up at the sun. It wouldn't be two hours before the sun had shifted too far to protect her. She was caught, so all the monster had to do was wait. 

“D-did you just expect me to g-give up?” Angela said, trying to show defiance even as she panicked. 

“Oh, of course not, wouldn't that have been disappointing.” the vampire mused. “The chase ending before it began? I would not have been gentle with such a disappointing catch.”

Angela didn't know what to say to that. She was as good as dead, at best having bought herself a couple hours. There was some cold comfort in being told she had earned a less gruesome end by being amusing.

The pair watched each other in silence for several minutes, the vampire’s eyes locked on her prey while Angela occasionally stole glances, making sure the vampire hadn’t moved. The adrenaline from her desperate fight was winding down and the certainty of her death wore on her until she was fighting back tears. The vampire watched with detached interest as Angela slowly lost the battle with herself, breaking down in fear.

“Why can't you just leave me alone?” Angela finally sobbed.

“Do human hunters ever leave the deer or boar alone? I must drink.” The vampire answered simply. “But, if you are that desperate to live… perhaps there is a way. What is your name?”

Angela cursed herself. She knew an offer like this was too good to be true, it had to be a cruel game, but her heart leapt. She wanted to live, she wanted it more than anything, and she couldn’t help but be led along by the vampire. 

“I'm Angela.” She answered simply. 

“Do you know what a blood thrall is?” The vampire asked. Angela shook her head no, and the vampire continued. “It is a human kept as something between livestock and a pet. Your primary purpose would be to provide me blood whenever I desire - though I would never take enough to harm you.”

“And when I am not providing blood?”

“You would be my plaything.”

Angela pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging herself close. If vampires were known for two things the second was their insatiable lust. She’d heard hunters claim that the young vampires would have dragged men and women back to their den to act as sex slaves. Is that what this vampire was doing now? Angela had imagined the process far more forceful, though she could hardly claim she was being given a proper choice.

“Why ask me? Couldn’t you just force me to do what I want?”

“I could, easily, but my experience is that a cooperative blood thrall is far more entertaining than some wretch I keep chained in the dungeon.”

“So become your willing slave or you’ll kill me?”

“Become my cooperative slave or I’ll eat you.” The vampire corrected. “I know it is hard to appreciate the difference at the moment, but it is there. I have standards; I do not kill humans for no reason, nor do I mistreat my thralls, or demand willingness and adoration when we both know the best you could offer now is fearful cooperation.” 

There was a twisted logic to it, Angela supposed. Fareeha, one of the hunters, had explained to her once that many creatures of the night see humans as lesser beings. Most did not even see their actions as evil - to a vampire, enslaving a human was no different than collaring a stray dog. The vampire wanted a pet she could train. One she could use as a… plaything.

The thought made Angela shudder. What would a vampire lover be like? With cold hands that could break steel and teeth that would tear at flesh? It was sure to be a brutal, harrowing experience.

“You wont hurt me?” Angela asked.

“You will be under my protection. Nothing will hurt you.”

She considered it for some time, but it all came back to one thing. She didn’t want to die. What the vampire offered was slavery, it churned her stomach, but she didn’t want to die. She was terrified of how she might be treated, but she didn’t want to die .

“You can have my b-blood, but, I, I don’t want to be…” Angela trailed off, unable to fully voice her fear.

“Is that all? You have my word that I will not touch you in any way you do not ask for , with the exception of feeding. Is that good enough for you?” The vampire offered, amusement clear in her voice.

“W-Why would you agree to that?” Angela asked suspiciously.

“Call it a game. I am confident that you will ask eventually.” 

Angela glared at the vampire, but she just laughed.

“Well, little bird, I believe it is time to make your choice.”

Angela took a deep breath, then nodded her agreement.

“Good. Stand up.”

Angela obeyed with a dead weight in her chest, turning towards the hateful vampire.

“You shall address me as Mistress Satya. Now come.” She ordered with such assurance and authority Angela almost moved without thinking. Mistress Satya held out her hand, an inch from the sunlight. After a final moment of hesitation Angela reached out to the offered hand and allowed herself to be pulled into the shadows.

[gncassidy]

hi, i’m mouser, but you can also call me calico or pawpad. i use they/them pronouns, and this is my overwatch blog!

i post anything from headcanons, incorrect quotes, actual quotes and interactions from the games, and sometimes fan art. but most of the time i’m reblogging other people’s posts about spuriken <3

here’s a little about me!

i’m 20

i’ve been playing overwatch for 3 years

i’m a d.va one trick and i’m proud of it >:3 (i don’t know how to play any other tank and i have no interest in learning)

d.va, cassidy, and mercy are the heroes i play the most, and i’m most flexible as a support hero. i can play moira, zenyatta, lucio, brigitte, or kiriko.

my favourite characters are d.va, cassidy, genji and kiriko <3

i’ve never played competitively and i don’t think i ever will! i’m fine just playing quick play, and i find the environment there more relaxing

i’m also interested in other games like genshin impact, honkai impact, cookie run kingdom, pokémon, animal crossing, etc. overwatch is the only fps game i play on a regular basis

my icon is by the lovely @glysaturn and they’re probably my favourite overwatch/spuriken artist. i may be a little biased since they’ve drawn 2 pieces inspired by my work but i loved their art beforehand <3

thank ya kindly for reading! 🤠

[bonelessghoul]

the witcher and the sea (2)

Summary: A lot can happen in just one day. For the Princess and the Witcher, as a newfound trust finally begins to form between them, she only becomes more persistent in breaking every rule and challenging him. As Geralt adapts to Skellige and tries to find a plan to stop the Drowners with Moira’s help, more secrets of the Princess’s life come about and their new bond is put to the test when her friends are found to be in danger. But the Witcher soon realizes that one cannot say no to a Princess.

Words: 8.8k 

note: heyooo not really sure how many people will read this but hope those who do enjoy it!! Please give your feedback, reblog, like, and all that fun stuff. I tried to make this a little longer and more packed than the last part so I hope you all like it :)

Part One |...| Part Three

The morning came earlier than Moira would have liked with Saorise and a few of the handmaids entering her room at the crack of dawn with gowns for tonights feast.

“Good morning, Princess.” Saorise chimed.

In response, Moira turned on her side to face away from the curtains that were drawn open and she pulled the thick, silky blue blanket above her shoulders as she braced for the chilly air that came in from the open doors to her balcony.

“The guests won’t be arriving til noon, Saorise.” Moira groaned.

“That may be so, but your brother Eist has returned from Cintra.”

While she still wished to catch a few more hours of sleep, Moira sat up in bed and rubbed her crusted eyes as they adjusted to the pale morning light from the overcast skies. She hadn’t seen her brother all week and part of her found the motivation to spring up out of bed knowing he was arriving earlier than expected.

Saiorise was grabbing her a subtle dress to wear for the day from the wardrobe opposite of her bed, but Moira’s eyes were focused on the ones the handmaids brought in that were resting over chairs. They were surely sent by Birna who, despite dressing like a crow, picked out dresses that resembled the Turiseach’s colors of blues and silvers alike. Her eyes had immediately found the one in the middle.

It was the least tacky of blues, resembling the color of the ocean that reflected grey skies in its variety of tulley and netting. The corset was a light shade of blue, but hardly noticeable underneath the gold and silver sequins over the dark blue floral like fabric that spanned across the bust and just below her waist. There was a cape attached to it, hard over her shoulders and neck but the sleeves attached to it were sheer and the same color as the dress itself. That too shared the same dense silver and gold embroidery as her dress, and short silver chains connected it to the top of her corset.

Every little detail of the gown that Moira took in only made her eyes widen more and more with admiration.

“If you want me to get out of bed, Saorise, I think I would like to put on one of those dresses now.”

“Would you like us to prep you for the evening now, my Lady?” one of the maids asked.

Looking over at her Mage as she slipped out from under the covers, bare fit hitting the icy cold floor, the woman shrugged at her.

“Well, at least you will be spared from Birna harassing you to get ready today.”

Moira took a quick bath to freshen up, the sea breeze that blew in through her open balcony surely waking her up when her wet skin met the chilled air. But once she slipped into the gown and took a seat by the vanity her late sister once used, it was easier to listen to the duties she would have today as the guests arrived.

The Mage sat beside her, occassionally stepping outside while one of the maids went over the schedule of events.

“You will have breakfast with the King and Queen, the Jarl, and your nephew Crach will be joining as well.”

The other two maids were poking and prodding with her hair and face which made it slightly more difficult to hide her disgust at her nephew.

“The nephew that only bothers his uncles for whenever he needs favors and conveniently forgot my birthday last year. Lovely.” Moira said, only able to roll her eyes.

Saorise quickly turned though and walked into the room, shooting her frown.

“It’s not polite to speak of your nephew that way in front of the maids, Princess.” Saorise sighed, but there was an unmistakable look to her Mage’s face that only showed she couldn’t stand him either.

“Ladies, you remember the story of my precious nephew tattling on me to my brothers when I first picked up a bow and arrow, correct?”

“Yes, my Lady.” they said.

Moira beckoned her hand out to the women. “See? They know he’s a little rat.”

A few of them giggled and Saorise couldn’t hide her knowing grin either.

“After breakfast, the Queen has requested you help her make preparations for the court and then you two will stand with King Bran and Eist to greet the visitors. It seems you will be the one guiding everyone to the guest rooms.”

As the maid went down the list of her tasks, Moira’s mind drifted elsewhere to the Witcher. After their conversation yesterday evening, it had been mulling over in her thoughts and she was intending on speaking to him today if she even had a second or more to breathe. He was a hard man to read, and she tried to imagine all the ways she could approach him after making such a fool of herself. But even still, she was eager to find him at some point.

“And Moira, please don’t find any excuses to miss your duties today. If you even get a fingernail dirty I will know about it.” Saorise said, drawing her from her thoughts.

Moira frowned at her. “I would never do such a thing.” she assured.

Only moments later, the pair walked downstairs to the throne room which seemed all too empty with just her brothers standing around and guards posted like statues not too far away. But when Moira could hear Eist’s voice, a smile spread across her lips as her pace quickened to try and sneak up on him from behind.

But to no avail, Eist turned around with open arms before she had the chance.

“My dearest sister!” Eist beamed.

Eist looked younger than Bran, his hair darker like hers and his face unscathed of any aging despite all the battles he lead Skellige through. He was certainly dressed like a royal of Cintra though and maybe it was being on the sea for his travels that made him seem lighter with every moment, but his smile certainly had everything to do with Queen Calanthe.

“Hello, Eist.” Moira said, embracing her brother. “Tell me, are you finally married?”

His smile remained as he shook his head and sighed. “Not yet.”

Bran had been standing there, waving them over. “Come on, let’s eat. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Are you implying we start drinking now, my King?” Eist asked, raising a brow at him.

Moira laughed as she followed behind the two of them towards the long stretch of the dark wooden table where they would all be sitting this evening looking down on the room that would soon be filled to the brim.

“I think that is the best idea you have had. Perhaps you should visit Cintra more often.” Bran replied.

Without any commands, the servants from the kitchen were already at their table before they sat down with a freshly cooked breakfast of eggs, bread, and fruit. The two men had large pints of mead whereas she had wine, which she wasn’t sure would mix well for her food but Moira would not deny herself a drink.

“Where is Birna this morning?” Moira asked, leaning her head slightly forward to glance at them.

Bran swallowed his food and put his hand up.

“She was speaking with the Witcher after I had introduced Eist to the man who will put our people at ease. I think she will be very thrilled to see you wearing one of the dresses she had made for you.”

Moira’s brows raised as she sipped her wine.

“I’m sure she would be. Why did she need to speak with Geralt, though?”

“I see you’ve already learned his name.” Eist mused, looking at her suspiciously before turning towards Bran. “I still can’t fathom why you brought him here, brother. Our men are well suited to contain this problem that may I remind you, happens every year.”

Moira opened her mouth to question why Eist would care if she called the Witcher by his true name, but her family had always been wary of those who possess such abilities with the exception of their Mage. She was even more curious to know why Birna needed to speak with him but she refrained from asking any more questions at all.

“Eist, you cannot deny there is something off about all of this.”

“Maybe so, but how much do those of his kind ask for with such simple tasks?”

“The Isles have never been at peace as they are now! Finances are not a problem.”

As the two bickered the political nonsense Moira never cared for, she raised her glass to one of the servants who went to get her more wine. If this was the forecast of her day, she knew she was going to need it.

“Well on a lighter note, Moira, I have a present from Calanthe.”

Moira’s face contorted slightly as she sipped the freshly poured wine.

“A what? From Calanthe?”

Before she could even move, Eist had pulled out another bow and a fresh satchel of brand new arrows from the empty seat beside him and Moira’s jaw hit the floor. Immediately, she jumped from her seat and rushed over to her brother, marveling at the strong wood it had been carved from, glossy and shining from the mere daylight at every angle.

“Calanthe had this made for me?” Moira asked, her voice light as a feather while the excitement that ran through her squeezed at her heart.

“She knows a warrior when she sees one. While she’s never agreed with how Bran and I have raised you, I secrelty think she adores it.” Eist chuckled.

Moira’s eyes didn’t leave the new toy she had been gifted and she started to turn away, walking to return to her room while the two brothers called out her name.

“Moira, we have things to do today!” Bran called out.

“Then he should have shown me this tomorrow!” she casually replied, glancing back at him.

As she left the court, Saorise had been walking in her direction and Moira had nothing but the giddiest grin upon her lips.

“Where are you going?” her Mage asked, pausing as she kept walking.

“I’ll be back in time for the guests, don’t worry.” Moira chuckled.

The exasperation from Saorise’s face did not go unnoticed, but everyone knew there was no stopping her from trying this out now and let her go on her way.

Once she returned to her room, Moira immediately picked up her old beaten arrows and gently placed the new ones from Cintra upon her bed.

There was the nagging thought of knowing she had to help Birna with the preparations for tonight, but she easily dismissed it when she picked up her new bow and went outside. From her room, she could see the tiny harbor village down below. It seemed so much closer than it really was with the ships docked and the roofs of every home and establishment. Her favorite part was how she could see the way this part of the Isle curved, the mountains surrounding them like they were extensions of her own arms. There was even the rocks just a couple miles out that stuck out from the water like the back of a serpent.

Sometimes she felt as if she could shoot an arrow and it would land right on its surface.

But for now, Moira leaned upon the stone barrier between her and a very miserable descent to the gardens beneath her.

Sometimes, she would shoot at nothing. Other times, she would simply aim for a particular tree or somewhere down below just to mess with the guards. Moira was tempted to use her new arrows as her old ones didn’t feel right with this newly carved bow, but she knew she had to get rid of them sooner or later and did so by freely shooting them from her balcony.

Even though the air was cold, her newly tailored gown kept her warm enough and didn’t hinder the focus she needed in every muscle and breathe she took.

But as she came down to her last arrow, Moira caught side of a white haired figure all the way down to the left. From here, she could not make out Geralt’s face as he stood at the near opposite end of the castle at the stables, but she could see the indivudal stacks of hay under the wooden structure that held his horse Roach. Birna was nowhere to be seen, and she was still curious as to what they spoke about earlier, but knowing that she was gone made her more eager to mess with the Witcher.

She wanted to talk to him soon, and she still drew a blank as she did since last night when it came to what she wanted to say. By the time she would make it down there while he was alone he would surely be gone.

As the gears turned in her head, Moira quickly turned away from the balcony to rush back to the vanity and she searched for a piece of parchment and something to write with while anxiously hoping Geralt would still be standing there.

Once she found what she needed, she quickly scribbled down a simple little note, tying it to her last dainty little arrow as fast as her fingers could before rushing back out to the balcony. To her relief, the Witcher stood there presumably feeding roach from what she could make out from here. Placing the bow and drawing back, Moira sucked in all the air she could fill in her lungs and narrowed her eyes upon the wooden post that was only a few feet away from the two.

Maybe this would be a bad idea if there was a sudden breeze that suddenly ended with a dead Witcher or a horse and she halted for just a moment.

But when Geralt slowly started to turn away from Roach, Moira didn’t hesitate when letting go of the bowstring and still held her breath as she watched it soar across the air.

From the stables, Geralt had caught sight of the Princess a few moments ago aimlessly playing with her bow and arrow. Of course, she was not looking as he occasionally glanced up at her, his mind unable to wrap around the freedom she had with her title. Geralt didn’t know the brothers that held such power of Skellige, but what he knew didn’t surprise him one bit with what he’s learned about the Princess over the past day.

Roach made a soft little huf and swayed her head.

“I agree, Roach. She is hiding something about the Drowners.” Geralt responded, feeding her one last apple before turning away.

The horse made another sound, a bit harsher this time but it didn’t diguise the sound his supernatural hearing could only pick up. It was like the hum of an insect, except more high pitched and in the seconds it took to come close enough, Geralt turned around to hear the head of an arrow sink its way into the wooden post not too far from them.

“It seems this Princess also has a death wish.” he muttered with a frown on his lips as Roach became slightly startled.

Moira winced, guilty for causing the beautiful creature to become scared and quickly turned away to her room.

But Geralt, curiosity hidden under his firmly pressed lips watched as the little piece of parchment slipped off of the arrow and into the dirt. When he walked over to it to read it, his eyebrows raised, lightening his face ever so slightly.

“I will tell you what I know tonight. Say a word of it to my family and the next arrow will be in your head, Witcher.

Moira.”

By the end of it, Geralt could not hide the way the corner of his lip ticked up just a little, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Maybe this would all be worth the coin after all, he thought.

~~~

The day passed rather quickly and people from all over Skellige soon filled the castle.

Moira’s usually empty home came to life and she loved every second of it. Ever since Bran became king, court was hardly as fun with how much work he put into keeping the peace between the Isles but when he did decide to make things more interesting, it never failed to be a wonderful time.

But Skellige, the rowdy bunch that never missed an opportunity to dress up and drink til the sun rose the next morning, still maintained a decorum of formality to impress the royal family that ruled it and Moira was not used to it. As a child, everyone greeted her like the adorable little Princess she was and she would run off with her friends in no time but now there was a growing discomfort with every man that kissed her hand and girls she once called friends already married and staring at her with looks that could kill.

“Keep smiling, Princess.” Birna whispered, nearly breathing down her neck.

Moira whipped her head back to look at her, wearing a deep navy blue gown that was almost as detailed as hers but much more delicate. Whereas Moira looked like she could run into battle with the tiara upon her head, Birna did radiate a certain elegance that she never knew possible in Skellige.

Together though, the two of them standing before the entire population was a sight to be admired as they all gathered to greet them.

“I am smiling.” Moira hissed the second another family had passed them.

Birna raised an eyebrow at her before she turned back around.

“The dress you picked looks very nice. It’s probably why every girl looks like they want to kill you and every man wants to get down on one knee.”

Moira scoffed, still maintaining her smile as one of the men from Ard Skelling took her hand. She had to force her politeness as she curtseyed for the man who was twice her age.

“It’s almost as disturbing as you complimenting me.” Moira said as the man went away.

Moira had to give some credit to the man her brother chose to love. What they had was genuine, something that didn’t happen often in this world. Despite their relentless fights, with the mother and sister she never truly got to know gone, Birna had done her best to mold her into the woman she was today even with resistance from Moira.

As her brothers, Birna, and Saorise turned to take their seats, she shared a secret grin with her Mage who had overheard her conversation.

“Who knew she could be so nice to me?” Moira said under her breath, wiggling her brows as they ascended the stairs.

Saorise laughed gently. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Princess. You know she will tear you to shreds over something so little at some point tonight.”

Moira agreed and just as she reached the top of the stairs, her brothers and Birna already at their seats, a new face had walked down the aisle of already seated members of the court,

“My king, you have one more guest tonight.” a guard said.

Moira turned around, Saorise still trailing behind her a few stairs below her, and just over her shoulders the Witcher himself entered and a similar feeling to the first time she saw him just yesterday evening washed over her.

She froze midstep, watching as he strode over towards them, and everything within her seemed to tighten like a coil.

Geralt’s eyes were as gold as the chandeliers above them, and she watched as they quickly scanned over her dress and suddenly she could feel every inch of fabric on her skin like fire. She wondered if he felt scrutinized by her when she looked at the hardened armor as black as night that he wore, curious about the silver pendant around his neck.

As every hair on her began to stand, feeling pulled into some world where she forgot that the entirety of Skellige’s most important families surrounded them, she was quickly drawn back to reality when her brother Bran breezed by her to greet the Witcher halfway.

It almost made her laugh at how short the Witcher made everyone look.

“Why is he dressed like that?” Eist asked, his voice low.

“He’s a mutant. Of course he wouldn’t know how to dress appropriately for court.”

Moira glanced back at them.

“That’s a rude way to speak of the man who’s going to rid of us our Drowners problem.”

They dismissed her easily and ascended the stairs to take their seats and Moira took one last glance at Geralt before following them with Saorise.

Once above all of the guests, she watched as every head in the court turned on the Witcher as Bran led him up to their table, their whispers hardly going unnoticed. After knowing how he could hear her heartbeat, she wondered if he could hear the things they were saying.

But when Bran picked up his pint, tapping one of the butter knives against it, every whisper and sound from the small band ceased.

“People of Skellige! I welcome you to this wonderful occasion which I am sure you are all wondering what it’s about.” Bran announced, his deep voice filling the hall. “I’m sure you’re all even more curious as to why we have a Witcher in our presence.”

Looking over at Geralt who stood there with a straight face, she could sense his disdain for the show her brother was putting on. Or perhaps he just always looked like that.

“As many of you may already know or have heard whispers about, An Skellige has been plagued by an uprise of monsters that have once kept quiet and has been harming the people of our villages. I want to do what is best for my people, even if those of you from the other Isles may not be affected, I want it to be known that everyone’s safety is a matter I take seriously which is what led me to my decision in bringing a Witcher here to prove that to you all.”

People began to clap, and Moira did too.

“But even in this troubling time where many of the people of An Skellige may be concerned, I want it to be known that the Witcher will slay the beasts that think they can attack people of Skellige nonetheless!”

The claps got louder, the men cheering now which brought a smile to Moira’s lips.

Bran then turned to the Witcher.

“Geralt of Rivia, I welcome you to Skellige and will provide anything you need to do what it takes. Now, lets eat, drink, and show this Witcher what it is like to celebrate amongst us!”

The Witcher had a smile on his face now, even if it seemed like he had to put it on for show. Her brother was always one to put on a show, so she was glad that he could at least pretend to enjoy such attention while it was all on him. To her relief though, he sat on the opposite end of the table from him and once food was served, her stomach was in too many knots to properly enjoy it.

“You think you could make it a little less obvious that you’re infatuated with him, Princess?” Saorise said.

Moira sipped her wine and glanced at her mage.

“You are imagining things, Saorise.” she dismissed.

The woman grinned at her, a taunting grin at that.

“I haven’t seen you look at anyone that way since Rotty came back from those long months at sea with the rest of the navy.”

“That was a pathetic little crush I had when I was fifteen!” Moira cried, laughing as she looked at the woman. “Plus, every woman here is oggling at the Witcher. I’m here to help him get rid of the Drowners and nothing more because he will be on his way traveling and slaying monsters across the Continent.”

“You like danger, Moira, and I fear that Geralt of Rivia is a very attractive piece of danger to you.” she said, sighing with exasperation.

“I don’t see a problem with that.” she shrugged, glancing across the table to catch another look at him.

The moment people finished eating, it wasn’t long before guests started to fill the open space of the floor to dance in pairs to the light music the band played.

After a couple glasses of wine, Moira even dragged Saorise out to the floor with her and they linked arms and danced together like she was a child again. Even Eist joined after forcing Bran and Birna to come down with him and for a moment, she forgot that she needed to speak with Geralt.

The one thing Moira adored about her family depsite all of their bickering was that they were not the type of royalty to remain seated and look at their people through their noses. They were more than ready to drink and dance amongst their people like they were all one big family which they all were more or less.

It was why she never feared being a traditional Princess.

Moira eventually backed away from the crowd, stearing more towards the open balcony windows so she could catch the cool air while still remaining in the ballroom itself.

As she stood on the outskirts of it all, admiring the crowd that sung and danced together, she noticed Geralt come up beside her out of the corner of her eye and immediately straigthened up.

Everything from the way he stood to the way his eyes seemed to scrutinize the guests gave her the impression that he didn’t quite know what to do, aside from the obvious part of how much he did not fit in.

“I sense you don’t really like big parties being thrown in your honor?” Moira asked, staring up at him as he scanned the crowd.

The Witcher heaved a sigh as he looked at her with a lighter expression compared to his unnervingly blank face.

“I never really have parties thrown in my name. Kings and rulers typically keep my presence hidden and the job they have for me secret.”

“I’m almost surprised by that. So, I assume you don’t typically like these royal parties then?”

Geralt looked back out at the people of Skellige and her family in particular, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“It is not necessarily my cup of tea.”

Moira snickered, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against the column she stood near.

“I didn’t take your kind as the type who would drink tea anyway.”

“You’re right. We prefer to keep a stash of the blood of the monsters we slay anyway.”

She quickly turned to him, her mind letting her believe that he was serious for a moment by the way he didn’t even blink.

“Wait, really?”

“No.” Geralt said, looking at her with raised brows that seemed to pull up the corner of his lips as well.

Nervously, she let out a laugh, and Moira shook her head as she looked down at her shimmering gown.

“Well, speaking of monsters, I do believe I owe you an honest conversation about the Drowners.”

“It appears you do, Princess.”

Moira frowned at him. “Call me Moira.”

Geralt nodded. “Understood.”

Taking a deep breath, her memory of the Drowners unfolded as she tried to figure out where to start and still cover her tracks.

“We have a pretty skilled navy and army here on Skellige. So, when the Drowners started to claim more lives than they normally do in the winter, my brother decided to send them out to patrol the area. My best friends are in the navy and I grow restless in the castle so I decide to sneak out and help them.”

“That’s very bold of you.”

Moira glared. “I am very skilled with weapons. I grew up with two brothers who didn’t ever really know how to raise a little girl without putting a sword into her hands for fun.”

“Your aim with a bow and arrow is impeccable but I think Roach would disagree.” Geralt mused.

“In all fairness, I did not mean to startle your horse. It was mainly a jab at you for being so forward last night. Anyway, you’re getting away from the point!”

“Carry on.” he said, nodding at her.

“One night, we were patrolling one of the streams that go through the woods. It isn’t that close to the village, but it connects to the bay just off of Urialla Harbor where we’ve seen them the most and thought that’s where people have been getting snatched up. What we found out was true, and that they have been traveling from the bay in numbers I’ve never heard of.”

“That’s when you got attacked.”

“Yes.” Moira sighed. “The waters were covered in mostly ice, which is why we didn’t expect to see them, but since that night we’ve went back to that area and have probably killed about a dozen already.”

Moira knew she was keeping a major part of the story out, but it was a secret buried so deep that no one other than Saorise would ever know. But she was comfortable with what she told him and hoped he wouldn’t pick up on what she left out. Technically, she wasn’t lying.

“That bay you mentioned, has there ever been anything else there?”

Moira shrugged. “Just a couple of weird caves but nothing out of the ordinary. It’s a place where everyone goes in the warmer months.”

Geralt seemed to be trying to connect the dots in his head, but when he nodded, she was slightly relieved.

“Any ideas yet?”

“Not really. I can slip out tonight and try to find out more for myself.”

Nodding slowly, Moira wanted to interject and offer to come with him, but Saorise had been approaching them.

“It is nice to finally meet you, Witcher.” Saorise said, bowing her head towards him before turning to her. “You, Princess, cannot be seen hiding in the corners of a celebration thrown by your own family.”

Glancing at Geralt who seemed to be amused at this, she sighed heavily and started to walk with her.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Moira said, glancing back at him.

“Thank you, Princess.” Geralt smirked.

Before she could snap at him, Saorise had pulled her to dance again and the two were back to how they were except this time, she looked at Geralt every chance she had as he still stood in the same spot she left him.

“It was only a matter of seconds before Birna scolded you for talking with him.” Saorise said, pulling her away again.

Moira shrugged. “You’re not wrong.”

As Moira danced with her family again, she had unlinked arms with Eist and thought she would be jumping into a dance with Bran but instead found her nephew Crach joining her and her mouth was instantly filled with a bitter taste.

“Oh, look who it is!” the young man boasted.

Moira smiled at him cockily as they continued the dance routine.

“How unfortunate it is to see you again, my dear nephew.”

Crach shared a strong resemblance to Bran with a face full of light colored hair and the same eyes the whole family had. But he had the brain of a boar and certainly embodied the arrogance of once. She never imagined how her fair sister could have conceived such a pest.

“You’re breaking my heart, Moira! We’re still family you know!”

“We may be family, but you are a royal pain in my ass who in fact, does not seem to care about family.”

They switched positions again, and she was eager to find another partner, her head on a swivel as she was practically flailing around and missing steps while she danced with him.

“What were you doing talking to the Witcher? You know Birna would have a fit for not speaking to an eligible bachelor.”

Moira rolled her eyes.

“Not all of us have the luxury of escaping to live with another family in the Isles, Crach.”

“Maybe you should finally marry and leave Skellige entirely. Ever think of that? It’s not like it’s hard, Princess—but wait, it seems you still think you can be a soldier.”

Striking a nerve in her, Moira snatched her arm a way from him, causing a ruffle in the flow of Skellige’s most traditional jigs as she now stood in the center of it aflame with anger spewing towards her nephew.

“Don’t judge me when you know all the women at every brothel in the Isles, you little rat.” Moira seethed.

Crach put his hands up in defense, giggling like a little boy as he did so.

“I mean no ill intent, Moira. Don’t get so riled up, you know that isn’t attractive.”

Moira stepped forward. “I’ll show you riled up when I shove my—”

“Princess.” said an unfamiliar voice.

Moira sharply turned around, her blood pumping with more heat towards the pest she called a nephew only to find Skjordal Drummon, the jarl of one of the clans that rivaled Crach and his family on Ard Skellige. The man was at least fifteen years older than her and it showed, but his mere presence made her go cold as he looked down at her with a hunger to his eyes that every man had tonight.

“What a pleasure to see you again, Skjordal.” Moira said, her voice strained as she straightened herself out.

“May I have this dance? My absence on this island has suited me well I suppose, and it’s an honor to have returned to witness such elegance and grace you have grown into.”

“She would love to!” Crach said, gently pushing her forward.

Moira’s heart was racing, unable to process the sickening comment her made to her still even as her hands became intertwined with his, making her skin crawl. Every fiber of her being wished to have whipped around and hit Crach with all her might, but instead, she was left with the repulsive feeling that made her stomach churn as Skjordal gleefully pulled her into the dance routine.

The seconds felt like long, brutal minutes as Moira kept her attention elsewhere as they danced, waiting for the song to switch by the band so she could run away from the way his hand squeezed hers and the other rested on her back. She was choking on her own breath as she kept her chin tilted up for formalities.

Skjordal had a daughter that was almost her age, having been sent off to the Continents a couple years ago with a new husband.

It sickened her that he was trying to pull her in every chance he got as the song continued on so much so that it began to make her dizzy.

As her gaze remained on anything else, she kept making eye contact with Geralt.

From the outside, he could sense her discomfort after being irritated by her nephew and shoved into the arms of a man old enough to be her father. She was looking for every chance she could to escape, and Geralt would be lying if he said the sight of it didn’t bother him.

But that was the fate of most princesses he encountered, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised to see it happening to Moira.

Before the song could even end, Moira had forced herself to pull back and she quickly put her hand up to her head to give the impression that she was exhausted.

“I must say, all this dancing has me feeling quite ill. I think I didn’t eat enough this evening.” Moira laughed faintly. “I appreciate the dance, Skjordal. We will have to do it again later!”

In reality, her face was as white as snow as it was slowly draining of its color as that of a truly ill person, but she was also flustered to finally have gotten away from the dance. If she continued any more then she would have surely fainted in the middle of it all.

Before the jarl could even answer, Moira slipped away, just catching a glimpse of the offense he took to her leaving, and she wanted to run to the kitchens for any water she could find. As she breezed through the dense crowd, she only started to feel more irritated from every drunken Skelliger that brushed up against her, every touch making her want to scream.

What nearly set her over the edge was a firm but dainty hand grabbing her elbow and pulling her back, bringing her face to face with Birna.

“What the hell are you doing?!” she yelled in a hushed tone, her eyes wildly angry, yet still perfectly shielding her body from any wandering eyes.

Moira was confused though, yanking her arm back.

“Do not grab me like that, Birna.” Moira said, backing away. “We may be family but you are still no more than my rotten sister in law and that doesn’t give you permission to—”

“Family looks out for family, you spoiled brat.” Birna snapped, stepping forward again. “What you did by running off from a member of the Drummond clan was embarrassing! Your brother has done nothing but bring the Isles together in no way that anyone has ever seen. What will they think when Skjordal runs off and tells everyone you made a fool of him that way!”

Moira was at a loss for words, her chest rising and falling as every possible curse flooded her mind.

“He’s a man, he wouldn’t admit to being made a fool by a princess.” Moira said, picking the softer of responses for the sake of the night.

Birna laughed darkly, shaking her head, a gleam of sadness to her desperate eyes.

“You don’t get it, Princess.” she scowled. “You don’t understand how brutal men can be when they don’t get what they want.”

Tears immediately stung her eyes. Little did the precious Queen know, Moira knew all too well how brutal a man could be even without doing a single thing to provoke it. It was something she was not shy to whether she acted like a Princess or not.

“You don’t know anything about me.” Moira said between gritted teeth.

“I know enough to know that your brothers have guided you to believe you won’t be married off someday, and it should have already happened! You cannot sit here and think you are exempt from this path, and you cannot let the men of Skellige believe that either if your brother’s reputation as king means anything to you!”

Moira was trembling, every word suffocating her more and more.

She felt helpless against Birna who knew all the right things to say to pick her apart and get her to listen.

But that frustration that built up in her was growing, so much so that the winds outside began to pick up. It was as if the tide was at her fingertips.

Her eyes immediately scanned the room for Saorise as the fear of her own strength began to creep in with that deep hum from her blood.

“Who said anything about marriage?” Moira scoffed, trying to downplay what was truly happening outside the walls.

“You are a naïve little girl, Moira. If you don’t think your brothers know you are overdue for starting your life as a true woman, then you are deeply mistaken.”

The tears that stung her eyes made the Birna and the chandeliers beyond her head blur. Blinking them away, she glanced outside through the windows and saw that snow started to fall.

Moira could feel the storm within her, every gust of wind with every breath and every word Birna spoke fueling her imagination that every snowflake was like ice shredding against her skin. It was dark, even for Moira, but it would be worth releasing the numbing buzz that ran over every inch of skin. She had the strength of a thousand oceans in her mind and if she even blinked the wrong way, Moira swore that the waves could swallow the whole island.

“If you think I’m going to whore myself out to any man of power that walks through these doors like you did, you are deeply mistaken.”

Without another word, Moira turned away, knowing that it would be too much for her to stay around and stormed out to the balcony where she prayed no one would bother her as she hid off to the dark corner that wasn’t touched by the light of the party.

The brisk air was welcoming to her, the gentle snow that seemed harsh with the wind calming as she took deep breaths. Her hand rested against the stone where ice seemed to have covered, and that bone deep chill seemed to bring her fuzzy mind back to reality.

Anyone would have guessed that it was a gust of wind bringing some extra snow off the roof of their castle.

“Moira…” said a gentle voice that belonged to her mage.

Looking down at her feet that stood in the small dusting of snow, she felt a single tear roll down her cheek from the waterfall she was trying to hold back.

“I just want to be alone, Saorise. I have it under control.”

Her knuckles were as white as the gentle coating beneath her from the way she was gripping the stone railing.

It hurt her to push her away, especially knowing that her mage was the one who helped hide this mysterious magic that flowed through her blood. But of all people she would understand and if she could convince her that she had it under control, she hoped that it would keep her convinced that her family would never know.

When Moira heard her footsteps walk away, she felt it was a little easier to breathe.

But then, when she heard another pair of footsteps return, she sharply turned around.

“I said I wanted to be—”

Moira paused at the sight of Geralt who was looking at her quizically.

“It’s you.” she sighed, a cloud of her air pushing through her lips before she turned back around.

Staring out at the forest that looked like a black abyss at night, she knew that she had very little chance of hiding from him now.

“That was quite a show you put on.” Geralt said, coming up beside her. “You’re lucky none of the members of this court are sober enough to put two and two together.”

Moira scoffed, chuckling humorouslessly as her head tilted back.

“I wish I could say I had no idea what you were talking about, but something tells me you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

Geralt leaned back on the railing her hands rested upon, arms folded across his chest, and he shook his head at her.

“Not a chance.”

They stood there in silence, and yet the chaos that stirred within her as she tried to come down from the events that occurred over the span of ten agonizing minutes somehow seemed to disappear with him being there. Maybe it was the comfort of someone who knew nothing about her. Either way, she was almost glad he found his way to the balcony.

“Did you freeze the waters in the Isle?” Geralt asked, not in an accusing way which took her by surprise.

Moira thought back to that night when the Drowners attacked her and her friends and she could still feel that rush of power that took over her when they became too much.

“There were so many, and they ran. I got caught up trying to fight them off and once the one lunged at me, it sort of just happened. The entire stream was frozen over in an instant, half of their bodies still crawling out just frozen in time.”

“Hmm.” was all he said.

She raised a brow at him. “Wonderful response.”

They stood in silence once more and the guilt started to eat her away.

“Did I cause this?” she asked.

Geralt shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Moira turned her whole body to face him. “I need more than a few worded answers, Geralt.”

He sighed. “The Drowners are simple minded creatures. The ice would turn them away, not bring more to fight through it. I do not think your seemingly unhinged magic caused it but something else. I just have to figure out what.”

Moira could sense that now that he knew all the pieces to the puzzle, he was slightly troubled as well trying to figure out what exactly the missing piece was.

“Did you just call me unhinged?” she asked.

“I don’t think I could call it anything else, Princess. How exactly does one in your position go her whole life hiding something like that?”

Moira scoffed at him.

“Did it ever occur to you that these things might not be welcomed in Skellige? That my family would ship me off to those cult like schools where girls become mages? Saorise told me of them, before she got lucky with my family she said it was hell.”

Geralt shrugged.

“There are worse fates.”

Moira crossed her arms, the cold finally seeping in through her dress now.

“And tell me, what do you know about fates, Witcher? You get to freely roam the Continent every day of your life, collecting money for risking your life. I am doomed to marriage and children and my people despise me because I don’t want any of it.”

“Like I said, there are worse fates.”

“You are truly a man of words.” she said mockingly.

They fell in silence again, which was more comforting than them speaking and she could find peace and their newfound trust. At least, she felt as if she could trust him a little more now after what took place tonight. It was such a shame it had to be ruined but she was relieved that she could find herself talking freely with someone other than Saorise.

“I’m going to take Roach out to the bay and see what I can find.”

Moira’s head perked up from where she stared at the dark ocean in the distance.

“I can help.”

Geralt’s head sharply turned towards her.

“No.”

“Did I hear you correctly?”

“Not used to being told no?” he retorted.

“That isn’t fair. I just told you everything. I deserve to help. I’ve been out there every night since before you came here.”

“And tonight you can peacefully sleep knowing I’m going to handle it.”

Moira watched his lips curve and she started to notice a pattern with the ways she could get him to crack that stubborn face of his, and it all seemed to be when he got a rise out of her. But even still, she couldn’t help but stare at him like he had two heads.

“Goodnight, Princess.”

“It’s Moira.” she said under her breath, watching as the Witcher left her on the balcony.

~~~

The following morning came with a heavy pit in Moira’s stomach from the moment she woke.

It was the calm after the storm following the events of last night, and the princess laid in bed staring out through the glass doors of her balcony, having left the curtains drawn last night by accident. It was another overcast morning and she could see the leftover dusting of snow on the stone and the mountains beyond it from where her head lay. But despite the echo of her terrible evening still resounding through her, there was something off about what today would bring and she couldn’t quite figure out why.

By the time Moira dragged herself from her bed, she slipped into more comfortable attire and hoped the guests were gone by now before making her way downstairs where she would hopefully find her brothers. If they weren’t already awake in the throne room discussing plans for the coming days, she had a few other spots in mind and wouldn’t be surprised if they had still been sleeping in.

As Moira neared the open doors to the throne room, she could already hear more than just her brothers voices.

Curiosity getting the best of her, Moira immediately entered the room without hesitation, finding her brothers, Geralt, and three men dressed in the Skellige navy uniform with one looking more wounded. A warning seemed to arise from her deepest thoughts before she even knew what was happening, and immense worry began to fill her as she made eye contact with the Witcher who didn’t look any more pleased than the rest of them.

“Ah, Moira.” Bran greeted, seated slumped in his throne while Eist shared a dismal look at his side. “It might be best if you come back later. I can have one of the guards bring you breakfast to your room, if you’d like.”

Moira raised a brow at him.

“You only offer me breakfast in bed when something is wrong.” She frowned.

Suddenly, one of the navy men turned around and she immediately recognized Arnie who stood there with a bruised face and his arm held in a swath to keep it stabalized after injuring it and her heart sunk. She could see a terrible heartbreak written on his face and she immediately approached him, hugging him carefully as her worst fears started to rise in her mind.

“Where is Rotty and Orin?” Moira demanded from her brothers, glancing at Arnie.

Eist sighed, looking down before turning his attention back to her. “Your friends, as well as three others from our forces were trapped on Undvik after unsuccessfully trying to fend off the ice giant.”

Two of her three closest friends were now missing, and she felt the crushing weight of it the way it was written across Arnie’s face.

“Will you be sending more men to try and rescue them?” Moira asked, her voice tight.

The thought of them being gone was not one she could easily believe. Maybe she couldn’t except it, but she felt it deep in her soul that it was not possible.

“Moira, dear…” Eist said, his eyes sad as they looked at her.

“No.” she laughed, shaking her head. “They are not only my friends but your men. How could that not be your first course of action?!”

“Moira, you don’t understand what happened. There was an avalanche and we got separated.” Arnie said, his bleary eyes looking at her.

The boy she knew as the weakest link between his brother and their friend Orin who might as well have been a brother too now looked strong. He was strong in his own ways compared to the two, but now standing alone, she could see just how much his face changed as he accepted their fate.

“But you’re not going to try?” Moira asked.

“We have plans in place but we need time to figure out our best course of action.”

There was not a doubt in her mind that she would go there herself to find them. Even if she had to go against her brothers wishes, Moira would not live with herself if she wasn’t the one to make the tough, irrational decision to go and at least try whether they were alive or not.

Turning on her heels, Moira didn’t even spare the Witcher a glance as she left the room in silence.

Once alone, her imagination got the best of her as she pictured Rotty and Orin buried under the snow, frozen to death by now or worse, torn up by an ice giant she’s only ever read stories about. Tears pricked her eyes, but she swatted them away as the plan unfolded in her mind. By the time she got back to her room though, she hadn’t realized she was being followed until she went to her wardrobe and saw the Witcher standing in her doorway.

“Nice room.” Geralt said, leaning upon the door frame with his arms crossed. “Do you really think you are going to take on an ice giant on your own and save your friends even if they’re alive.”

Moira wanted to ignore him, in no mood to hear a lecture that anyone else would give her at any given time. She raided her closet for the clothes she would often wear when searching for Drowners at night with her friends and goes behind the tall, wood bordered screen to change.

“I know Witcher’s don’t have many friends, and quite honestly, I do not have many myself, but I will be damned if my brother thinks he can take his time constructing a plan before sending another crew out. Hell will freeze over before I lose them.”

Aggressively, she switched out of her clothes and into her new ones, hands shaking as she did so and not wanting to think of what faces Geralt was making on the other side of the screen.

“I don’t doubt your ability to freeze hell over, Princess.”

Groaning, she peaked her head out from behind the screen. “Moira. And I could do without the snide comments.”

As she finished changing, she quickly added, “You can play hero and tattle to my brothers about me all you’d like, Geralt but I am going no matter what anyone else has to say.”

“I don’t have to tell your brothers because I already offered my services to solve this problem.”

Moira froze for a moment, stepping out from behind the screen, watching as he came further into her room.

“I suppose you didn’t mention I would be tagging along, did you?”

The Witcher frowned at her, arms dropping at his sides.

“You can’t fight a monster on this scale.”

“And you can’t sail a ship as far as I am concerned.”

Moira reached behind her bed to grab her sword, as well as her new bow and arrow which clearly impressed him.

“I suppose you’re not going to take no for an answer?” Geraly asked.

“You can’t tell a princess no, Geralt.”

There was a pit embedded in her stomach from the moment she woke up, and it made her feel sick now knowing that lying and sneaking behind her brothers’ backs to this extent was not something she’s ever done before. But as she stared at the Witcher, there was a mutual understanding and despite the way this tore her apart, Moira couldn’t help but acknowledge that this thrilled her more than anything.

~

[s-p-o-o-k]

This idea has been bouncing around in my head for weeks. It began when I came across the first photo. It got me thinking about No Man's Land and all the possibilities this lawless area might provide to Nick and June.

A place to escape to from time to time. Or perhaps even for longer spans of time... or maybe even disappear permanently, from his world and hers.

They could go underground in NML . Think about it.

The first time they met in No Man's Land, their arrangement was he'd leave alone. He'd wanted to stay, but had lost the argument.

The second time they met in NML, he wasn't leaving without her. No matter what her arguments, he was certain of that. After their usual "Hi" & "Hey"... and a few quick kisses, he filled her in on his plan.

After a short but intense discussion, they'd gotten into his vehicle, and drove approximately 40 minutes down a winding desolate road, to a secluded cabin in the woods.

The sun was just coming up as they arrived. He quickly exited the SUV and went to stand on her side of the vehicle. She looked from him to the cabin and then back to him again. He could see she was still undecided and would need more prodding.

He pulled his hands from his coat pockets, opened her door and reached out. She looked up at him for several moments, then reluctantly took his hand and stepped out. He flashed her one of his rare smiles as he led her to the cabin door.

He pulled a set of keys from his pants pocket, unlocked the door and pushed it open as he turned to her,

"June, welcome home".

June steps into the cabin and looks around the inviting space. It wasn't at all what she had expected.

Nick's eyes follow her as she moves about the cabin. He mentally ticks off the areas as she comes to them. A stone fireplace, a cozy couch, a queen sized bed, a table and chairs, an adequate kitchen with a small but fully stocked pantry and finally, a small bathroom.

Having completed her journey around the cabin, June walks to a small table just to the right of the door. She'd missed it when she entered but now her eyes were drawn to it. Specifically to a grouping of items arranged in the center. A small orange pumpkin, a cheap ceramic black cat, a dish of crappy candy corn and a fat white candle. June moves her eyes from the table arrangement to Nick... wtf? Nick grins then shrugs his shoulders, "Hey, it IS Halloween."

June repeatedly nods her head as she moves to a window. The rising sun shines brightly through the uncovered panes. Moving up behind her, Nick explains how the fireplace, solar panels and an underground well provided all the comforts of home. She turns and gives him a skeptical smile before sitting down on a bench window seat.

Nick sits down beside her and takes her hand. He has to convince her his plan is solid, that he's thought of everything. He tells her how he'd cashed in every IOU & favor due him and made all the necessary arrangements to make certain they were able to remain at the cabin indefinitely. He shares with her his thoughts on the absolute hell their lives would be if they can't find a way to be together. Him caught in yet another loveless forced marriage. Her in a broken marriage, to a man she no longer loved.

June thinks about what their relationship has already endured. She remembers how his love kept her sane and alive. He had been a constant reminder that good men still existed, even in Gilead. When she'd told him of her plans for Fred, he'd argued against it, pointing out the risk, but in the end, he'd done as she asked and brought her Fred.

June had known there would be no turning back after that. She had already resigned herself to leaving their daughter in the care of Rita, Emily & Moira. Luke may or may not be completely out of the picture, she wasn't sure. But she had total confidence in the three women and the level of care they would provide. What she hadn't considered was her next step. Where would she go, what would she do? Cause lord knew she had to do something to fight against Gilead and save Hannah.

Maybe she could stay here awhile. With Nick... even without him if she must. But the thought of living the rest of her life without him... No, she couldn't & she wouldn't.

Having made her decision, June turns her face towards Nick and kisses his temple. She then moves her head down the side of his face, kissing and nudging him as she went, til he finally turns his head and kisses her back. Several minutes pass while they silently exchange, I love yous ... I can't live without you ... my heart belongs only to you ... i won't ever stop loving you.

When the need for air finally registers in both their brains, they part slightly, just enough to breathe, but still touching, always touching. After a minute, Nick moves his arm inside her open coat, around her waist and up her back, pulling June closer. He ducks his head for another kiss but June stops him with her first spoken words,

"Nick,

.

.

.

.

let's

try

out

that bed".

#okay it's done

#now i can stop thinking about it

#obviously not a fiction writer

#so don't expect more

#use your imagination for the rest

#yes i tossed in that halloween bit at the last minute

[afraidofchange]

unfogged​:

“Strays often invite themselves, don’t though? It’s simply a matter of taking them in.” She looks at Ana, truly looks at her now, as Ana does the same with her. Her hair grey, wrinkles on her face, around her mouth and eye. Ana has only seemed to look better with age, which is a feat within itself. Her tan skin flushed with wine is something that Moira never wants to forget, and she commits the image to memory.

“I may just be,” she jokes, smile widening. “It has all been a ploy, the monsoon, you getting caught, all to lead you here.” People often said Moira can’t make a joke, she begs to differ. Her pulse quickens at the touch and she wonders if Ana can feel it, knows Ana can. But the touch is brief, as Ana’s fingers thread with Moira’s with an ease that makes it seems they’ve been doing it for decades.

Her fingers press around the other woman’s, Moira not realizing just how much she’s been longing for a touch like this. “No, I don’t think I would.” Without letting go of Ana’s hand, Moira extricates herself from the sofa, pulling Ana to her feet. She takes the glass from Ana’s other hand and places it on the living room table, coaster be damned. “You want to dance, then let’s dance.” She leads her to an emptier space in the room, other arm coming to snake around her waist, pulling Ana close but letting a small amount of space between them.

They’re closer than they have been in a long time, and even that it was during fights and spars. Standing together, there’s a few inches between the two and Moira smiles down at her. “Reinhardt used to say you could dance well. Prove him right.”

  “I don’t doubt you would be clever enough to make it happen,” Ana quips in return playfully, another raspy laugh gracing the exchange. The wine is certainly making her feel a little more loose, a little more comfortable than just a cup of tea and oversized pajamas do on their own. Her grasp on Moira’s long, spindly fingers remains firm, thumb so casually brushing against the back of her hand too. 

  Taking her partly joking proposition to heart, as it were, Moira rises to her feet and Ana goes with her willingly, taking care of her glass and everything. That now free hand gives a quick tug to the rolled up waistband of her borrowed pants, making sure to keep her feet free from tripping over the excess length as they pad around the couch to the open space of the living room. Already drawn close together, Ana tilts her head back to look up at Moira - she doesn’t remember feeling this short compared to the doctor, but time hasn’t been kind to her joints, either. 

  Grinning, Ana reaches back to Moira’s hand on her waist, and instead, guides it to rest atop her shoulder, offering the other for Moira to take. “He’s quite right,” Ana muses, thinking of too many holiday parties and dances under the influence that she would share with him. “But if we’re dancing, I’ll lead,” She asserts and then rests her left hand on the small curve of Moira’s slim waist, drawing her just that tiny bit closer, under her guidance. The music is just loud enough to give her the rhythm, an instrumental piece she can’t quite name, taking the first step to the side without breaking her intent gaze upward at her newfound dance partner.