#lywinis writes

[lywinis]

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

Hector has always been on the outside, looking in, as it were. Now, he's allowed to ask for new experiences, and his beloved is always ready to oblige.

Figures I'd pop my cherry with Hector, even though I've been fixated on Dorian and writing stuff for him first. MEANWHILE, this popped into my head this morning and wouldn't let me go. Please enjoy.

Read it here on AO3.

[lywinis]

Yours, Mine, Ours

Rook attempts to reintegrate into life in the Mourn Watch. Someone begins sending him gifts of grave dowry. (Set after the events of Veilguard.)

Read here on AO3.

[lywinis]

Call Me Anything, Just Call Me Yours

Emmrich is effusive with his praise. Kostas notices.

Read it here on AO3.

[lywinis]

Just a Little 'Trust Me', Maybe Add a Little 'Touch Me'

With the search for the Dateviators mounting, you're stressed out. You know of one way to cool your jets and smooth your anxiety. Dorian's the perfect door for the job.

Read it here on AO3.

Mom said it's my turn with the self-indulgent kinks.

That said, had an itch, scratched it good. Hope you all enjoy.

(Explicit, mind the tags, kids.)

[lywinis]

WIP Wednesday

Working on White Noise and realized it was Wednesday, so have a thing:

He stabbed his fork into his order of beef and broccoli, snagging a napkin from the table to blot his mouth. “The issue with John,” Francis said, cocking his brow at James. “Is that he’s stubborn. He’s of the old guard, one of those who’s convinced that he’s going to get a knighthood for doing things exactly his way and nothing less.” “Is that why everyone calls him Sir John?” James asked, his gaze flicking up, regarding Francis over the edge of the annotated contract. “I thought it was an honorific.” “It did not start out that way,” Francis said, a flush crawling down his neck. “I...might have started that title. Or Blanky did. The jury’s out.” What he meant was that he had been too drunk to remember who started what back then. It had blotted out most, if not all of his bad behavior, until he couldn’t run from it any longer. Thomas and his limp were a constant reminder, though they’d managed to save the leg. Glass shattering, the wail of sirens. Boris Gardinier, tinny on the radio’s speakers, hissing static through him singing about how he wanted to wake up with the love of his life— The sound of Thomas Blanky wheezing, his ribs broken, his lung collapsed. Francis came back to himself with a start. James was watching him, a puzzled expression on his face. “Everything all right?” he asked. “Fine,” Francis said, his voice rougher than he’d like. “Long day.” “Right. You were here so early, my god. My apologies, Francis, I should let you get home.” “It’s fine,” Francis said, rubbing his face. “Not your fault.” “I think you’ll find that it was,” James said. “At least in part. How about this? Let me buy you dinner one of these nights, as a thank you.” “Not necessary, James,” Francis said with a little shake of his head. “You’ve already shouted the takeaway.” “Actually, that was Sir John,” James said, with a shrug. Francis’s surprise must have shown on his face, because James flashed his company card before he tucked it back into his wallet. “He owed us both for this mess, I think,” James said. “And technically, we’re working after hours, so it’s well within policy.” Francis burst into disbelieving laughter, and after a moment, James joined him, the rumble of his laugh making something fizz in Francis’s chest. “Good Christ,” Francis said, rubbing at his eye as he subsided into a fit of chuckles. “The cheek of you.” “Why?” James asked, grinning. “Because it’s something you’d do?” “Exactly,” Francis said, returning the grin openly. “Suddenly this beef and broccoli tastes far better than it did.” He picked the carton back up, the mood in the room far more genial than it had been at seven this morning.

[lywinis]

Metallic Blue

You and Eddie finally fix what's wrong with The Breaker Box. At least, most of it. (GN 2nd Person POV reader insert.)

Read it here on AO3.

[lywinis]

“It’s September the second, sir,” Tom replied. “The year?” Francis asked, though from the sound of the pancake ice pattering off the hull of Terror, he could well guess. Tom’s alarm was a little harder to disguise this time, as his steward looked him over. Francis was well aware of how mad he sounded, but needs must. “Eighteen forty-six,” Tom replied. “Good,” Francis said. “There’s time.”

Who doesn't love good old-fashioned Time Loop shenanigans? This time featuring Fitzier.

Read it Here on AO3.

[lywinis]

Obeisance

A chronicle of the life and love of Sebastian Vael, from 9:30 Dragon to 9:37 Dragon. This is a story of love, loss, and faith. It does not end here, but this is where it begins. Sebastian struggles to find his path. Hawke sets him on his way.

Read here on AO3.