#Secret Solstice

[mikami1992]

Supernatural Cops

The fandom has come to the conclusion that all kinds of supernatural or unusual things happen in Amity Park and people take it like any other Tuesday.

Still, I wouldn't be surprised if this place is the only place in the country (not to say the world) that has a police division in charge of handling Cults…

Yes, in Amity Park there is a group of police (not to say half of all the police in the city) that are dedicated to controlling cults and their peculiarities, because we must remember that, despite the reputation of being a tourist trap, this town in the middle of nowhere has the reputation of being the most haunted place in the country (or the world), so it wouldn't be crazy to say that on certain dates of the year many "tourists" (cough cultists cough) arrive who come in order to do "events" (cough rites cough), so whether they want it or not, someone has to control that the limits on how they are "celebrating" are not broken… and to top it off, the limits of what the city considers acceptable is a greater margin than other places, so it has become common for some groups to come back later.

So yes, Amity Park has one of the most effective police departments in dealing with cults and supernatural beliefs, not only are they effective in identifying participants, most of the time they know what kind of cultist they are dealing with, whether they are just playing a game or are the real magic business and how dangerous/troublesome they will be in the end.

What's more, this group is so good at what they do, that many times the inhabitants of Amity Park prefer to call them instead of the GIW (they are too destructive and there is still no 100% reliable insurance that will pay for the damages they cause), when it comes to a problem with a ghost and the ghost child is not around.

and that competition is more noticeable when other cities in the country begin to ask for help with some unknown cults that are appearing rap

[solarisquid]

It's so amazing!!! 😍😍😍

Wishing @solarisquid a wonderful season of joy and peace 💚✨. I hope you and your loved ones have a blessed new year as well filled with success and celebration ✨✨🎉

I present Catra, if she was She-Ra, bracing the Claw Gauntlets of Protection. 🐱

[joyful-enchantress]

Jól Never Be Alone | Loki x Fem!Reader

banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn

A/N: Hello! Enjoy this festive oneshot that I wrote as a gift for @smolvenger for this Secret Santa event facilitated by @fictive-sl0th. I took inspiration from a request submitted by @smolvenger and also from the Old Norse jól (pronounced yule), a midwinter festival which celebrated the passing of the longest days of winter, and fertility in the coming year. Happy Holidays!

Genre/Warnings: Arranged marriage, mild angst in the beginning (with a happy ending, I promise!), hurt/comfort, fluff, thirst, pining, smutty thoughts, language

Word Count: 3k

Three damn days.

That’s it. That’s all the time you had to pull yourself together.

To clean up the mess that you’d become these past weeks and be what the people of Asgard expected you to be. Needed you to be.

The shining star of the upcoming jól feast. You were to be the gem of the midwinter celebration as their newest princess.

That is, after all, what you were. You were married into the Asgardian royal family just over a month ago, joined in holy matrimony with Odin’s youngest son. The dark prince. Loki. A man — no, a god — that, for centuries now, had maidens everywhere falling over themselves just for the chance to spend a night warming his bed. How lucky you were to be his wife, right?

Though it wasn’t exactly a love match. Your marriage had been arranged by those that claimed more of a say in your lives than either of you did. Loki’s father and your own had devised a scheme — years in the making — in which you’d become Loki’s wife to strengthen the alliance between Asgard and your home realm, Vanaheim.

Yes, unfortunately, your love story felt less like a romance and more like a political drama.

It certainly didn't help that Loki has been cold and distant since the betrothal. He was always keeping to his own side of your shared living quarters, the physical walls between you serving as a constant reminder of the figurative one that loomed —towering and unsurmountable — between you. Short, clipped greetings are all that fell from his lips to welcome or acknowledge you when your paths did cross. Roommates with fancy titles... that's all you were. The dark, handsome prince, your husband, was never disrespectful — far from it, actually — but he never showed any true interest in you beyond what has been required during public appearances.

You couldn't blame him, not really. This couldn't possibly be what he had hoped for, when he would daydream about his own future. Trapped in a loveless marriage with you, likely feeling like little more than a pawn in his father's political chess games. No, it was no wonder why he kept his distance as much as the nature of your entanglement allowed.

There was a time, not so long ago, when you had allowed yourself to dream of a future where you sat beside Loki, as his wife. But not this way. Not like this.

Since childhood, you'd had a crush on the younger prince. Once you were old enough to accompany your father on his delegations to Asgard, where he'd speak on behalf of the Vanir at the council meetings, he was sure to bring you along. In hindsight, you realized, he only brought you with him so that you could become acquainted with Asgard before he secured your place there, within the royal court. But oh, how you looked forward to those trips! And a certain mischievous god was to blame...

Loki caught your eye the very first time you met him. How could he not? With those sharp cheekbones and chiseled jaw that you swore were sharp enough to slice through your dignity. The silky curtains of raven curls that framed his stupidly handsome face, always looking absolutely perfect, no matter how unkempt and mussed they were. Then there were his eyes, glistening like two polished emeralds against the alabaster planes of his face. You had frequently wondered what it might be like to lock eyes with him during the throes of a passionate night of lovemaking... meeting his gaze as you're writhing in the sheets underneath his lean, sculpted body, appreciating the length of him — of his neck, his limbs, his cock as he buries himself inside you.

Perhaps it was foolish, but you spent those years pining for him from afar, dreaming of what could possibly be someday. Sure, you spent time with him during your visits, enjoying strolls together through the gardens or his personal library, sharing details of your lives and bonding over your joint love of books. He definitely wasn't a stranger to you. In fact, you’d say you knew him well. But you never made your romantic feelings for him known; you never hinted at the desire that scorched through your veins like an untamed fire every time he was near.

You'd tell him someday, you'd tell yourself. You would tell Loki your feelings and with any luck he'd be yours... and it was that thought, that hope, that fueled your daydreams and pushed you through until your next visit to Asgard.

But before you ever got the chance to share the true nature of your feelings with Loki, you were both called into the throne room where your fathers informed you of the arrangements that had been made. You were to be married. In three fortnights.

And your dreams of a fairytale romance with the handsome prince were thwarted in an instant. You wanted him, but not like this. You wanted something real... you wanted Loki to want you.

Now you were homesick and, during a time when you should be feeling surrounded by love and holiday cheer, you had never felt more alone.

Jól was in three days. And the midwinter festival was supposed to be magnificent — a giant feast honoring the gods Odin and Freyr and celebrating a hope for peace, sunshine, and fertility in the coming year. Your place of honor at the celebrations was especially anticipated, not only because you were Asgard's newest princess, but because you were from Vanaheim — you were Vanir, same as Freyr. And, you were one of his descendants; his granddaughter, in fact. Yes — Loki was Odin’s son and you were Freyr’s granddaughter. Your union was a jóltide dream. The people of Asgard were abuzz with excitement, chattering about how special this year’s festivities would be… thanks to you.

You and Loki had been seen in public before, of course. You had endured your wedding and the celebrations that followed and managed fairly well. But that was a formal affair; beyond a few pecks on the lips throughout the day's festivities, you could go through the motions with little more than the occasional formal dance required, as far as physical contact.

The expectations at the jól festival were entirely different. It was to be a wild and sensual affair, with you and Loki performing a dance as the centerpiece of the fertility celebrations. This dance... the sensuality was not something that could easily be fabricated. You couldn't just go through the motions. The two of you would be chest to chest, eyes locked in a passionate stare, hands roaming and exploring each other's bodies. Your performance was meant to inspire not only yourselves, but all in attendance to go forth from the feast and be fruitful.

The thought twisted your stomach in knots and made your heart ache. How were you supposed to make it convincing? And if you did give in to the burning desire you had for Loki to put on the show that the people of Asgard were expecting, how were you supposed to protect your heart? Knowing that it wasn't the same for Loki; it wasn't real for him, too...

You had been training for this dance with an instructor for two weeks now, learning the basic steps. Having grown up in the royal court here, Loki was already familiar with the dance, so he didn't require the same training. But now it was time for rehearsals to begin. With only three days until the festival, you had to practice the dance with your actual performance partner... with Loki. You had to get a feel for each other during the dance; see where it felt natural to add in those caresses of your nose on his cheek, his fans of hot breath on your neck, the wandering touches on each other's bodies that linger just a whisper too long...

And your first rehearsal was in two hours.

You needed to get some air.

As you step outside, the frigid air engulfs you and steals your breath away. It’s a welcome feeling — a cleansing feeling. And it’s exactly what you need to clear your head and collect yourself before this dreaded rehearsal. You make a beeline for the palace gardens without much of a thought, your usual walking route essentially muscle memory at this point.

Your footsteps were nearly silent on the fresh-fallen snow that blanketed the path beneath your feet as you strolled throughout the garden, admiring the pops of color provided by the hardy winter flowers and berries that were currently growing there. As you approached the crocuses, you stopped to appreciate their bright purple blooms and the way the snow clung to the delicate petals.

Despite the harshness of the current environment, the flowers were thriving, refusing to let the cold and the ice dampen their beauty and light. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you resolved to do the same. You wouldn’t let your situation dampen your own light any longer.

“Darling…?” A familiar voice sounded from just behind you, seemingly out of nowhere. The snow must have muffled the sound of Loki’s approach.

What was he doing here?

“Oh, hello, Loki! You startled me; I didn’t expect to run into you out here.”

You quickly made to wipe the tear from your cheek as you turned to face him, but you weren’t quite fast enough; nothing got past Loki’s sharp gaze.

“So sorry to alarm you, I just came to the garden for some calm and quiet. The bustling in the palace as everyone prepares for the festival can get overwhelming.” He paused for just a moment, his brow creasing ever so slightly as if considering whether to continue before asking, “Is there anything troubling you, Y/N?”

Yes. So many things, you have no idea.

“I’m alright, Loki. I… I think the frigid air is just making my eyes water.” You managed a weak smile as you lied to your husband.

His eyes softened at your words; they beheld more warmth than you’d seen from him since before your forced betrothal.

“You know, Y/N… I know this hasn’t been easy. On either of us. But it doesn’t have to be this way between us forever. You don’t have to hide your feelings from me just because you don’t… just because we’re not…”

He struggled to find the right words to finish the sentence, but the implication was a shard of ice to your heart.

“What I’m trying to say is that you can talk to me. Ours may not be a marriage of love, but it still is a partnership. I can tell that something is wrong, that something has been wrong since our fathers broke the news of our arrangement to us. It was like, at that very moment, the light inside you was snuffed out. The woman that walked out of the throne room that day was not the same woman that entered. You’ve been a shell of yourself ever since you learned that you’d been sentenced to spend your life with me. And I’ve tried to give you space… to give you time. I didn’t want to pressure you, or suffocate you, so I’ve kept my distance. Waiting for you to be ready to speak to me again; perhaps even to spend time together again, enjoying our shared interests. But it has been more than 10 weeks now and I don’t think I can wait any longer, darling. Talk to me, please. I… I miss what we were before that day in the throne room.”

You blinked at him, flabbergasted. At a loss for words.

Set aside the sheer wonder of the sight before you: the tall frame, hung with lean muscles that strained against the fabric of the emerald tunic he was wearing. A note of gratitude crossed your mind that his Jotun ancestry allowed him to forgo any bulky outerwear to protect him from the elements, so you could enjoy this view, unobstructed. Even the way the snow clung to his dark, luscious locks and reflected the garden lights like a glittering crown had him looking every bit the winter king.

This man — this god — missed you. He mistook your heartbreak for… disgust.

As if you could ever find any part of him disgusting.

“Loki, I…” Your eyes darted frantically, looking everywhere but at him. Searching the winter blooms, the snow-covered tree branches, the festive garden decorations for a sign… for a whisper of encouragement. A murmur of reassurance. Was this it? Was this your moment?

When you finally met his gaze again, you saw nothing there but patience. Kindness. But also… longing?

“I love you.” You blurted it out, pushing the words from your lips before you could change your mind.

Your heart was pounding loudly in your ears; you actually said it. Nervousness enveloped your body like fresh steam, causing you to sweat despite the cold temperature.

“You…what?”

To say he was taken aback would be an understatement. It was clearly the last thing he expected you to say.

“I love you, Loki. I have for a while now.”

“Then why —?”

“Because I was heartbroken. Shattered. You’re right, Loki, the light inside me was snuffed out that day. Extinguished in an instant. But not because I was appalled or disgusted at the thought of spending forever with you. On the contrary, I had been dreaming of that very notion for years…”

You saw his eyes widen and his breath hitch before you continued.

“The light went out because I lost the hope that carried me forward; I never got to tell you how I truly felt about you — how much I cared about you…how much I wanted you.”

His eyes darkened almost imperceptibly at hearing you confess your desire for him.

You swallowed your own budding lust and pushed forward. “And so the delicate and, perhaps, foolish hope that we might have something real someday crumbled. Then, when I saw how much you withdrew from me, I… I was sure you had no interest in me. And that broke my heart even further, Loki, to know that you didn’t feel the same way about me and yet, we were trapped together in this marriage. I’ve never felt more alone than I have these past 10 weeks.”

“Darling…” he sighed as he closed the distance between you, reaching out his fingertips to softly caress the side of your face before brushing them under your chin and tilting your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze.

The small gesture stole your breath away. It was the first physical contact you had with Loki since the wedding, and certainly more intimate than any touches you had ever shared. This wasn’t a public appearance; there was no audience. There was only him. And you. And the hammering of your heart.

“It appears that we have both been foolish.” A smile slowly crept across his lips as he muttered, “a pair of hopeless, lovesick fools.”

By now the smile had wholly taken root and a full grin had bloomed on his face, casting a light there that you hadn’t seen in months.

Oh, how you missed that smile.

“Loki…” you gasped. “Are — are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I love you too, wife.”

You couldn’t think straight. You could barely breathe. You had to be dreaming.

Loki could tell that words were beyond you, so he just continued.

“I’ve adored you for years, Y/N. Admired you in secret like an adolescent with an unattainable crush. Because that’s what you were to me: unattainable.”

“Loki, you’re a prince, a literal god… you’ve had a horde of maidens throwing themselves at you for as long as I’ve known you. If one of us was unattainable, it was you.”

“They were only ever interested in my body, in my array of talents between the sheets.”

A warm flood of arousal washed over you, hearing him talk so casually about his own sexual prowess.

“But you, darling… you saw me. You showed interest in my mind, my ideas, my company. You asked me thoughtful questions and you actually listened when I would answer them. I was so convinced that I didn’t deserve someone like that. Someone like you. And so I kept my feelings hidden.”

“Well…” you began with a shy smirk, “I am interested in your body and your carnal talents too, you know.”

“And I don’t know if there’s anything that could delight me more than learning that about you tonight,” he said with a mischievous smile and lust-darkened eyes that lingered on your lips before darting back to your own hooded gaze.

“Kiss me, Loki, please…” you breathed.

Without hesitation, he leaned down toward you, brushing his lips against your own. Featherlight at first, but soon growing more assured and confident, claiming your lips as his. And you were more than willing to let him stake his claim.

When he finally broke the kiss, you opened your eyes to see him staring down at you reverently.

“I love you, my darling wife. And as long as my heart is beating, I promise you’ll never be alone; you’ll never feel alone again. Perhaps things in our relationship have occurred… somewhat out of the preferred order, but by some generous twist of the fates, we’ve been thrust into each other’s arms and allowed to spend the rest of our lives with our one true love.”

Your heart swelled as you stared up at him. You felt that light within you reignite, shining brighter than it ever had.

“I love you too, husband. With my whole heart.”

He bent down and claimed your mouth once again, his tongue sliding against your lips, which you happily parted to allow him entry. All of the love and desire that you’d both been harboring all these years was finally unleashed and it was conveyed in the intensity of your kiss, and in the way his hands now began to explore your body. At least, as best as they could, over the coat you were wearing.

Suddenly, you found yourself looking forward to rehearsal.

And to the jól festival.

And to the rest of your life with Loki.

Below is the request I received from @smolvenger - I hope I did it justice, my lovely! Happiest Holidays! 🎄

Secret Santa 2023 Taglist 🏷️ @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

[july-19th-club]

one thing about being in too much pain to uphold social niceties (period and it's a bad one) is that i did spend all day at work not only doubled over and moving at a pace the ninety year old library ladies were lapping but i was even worse than usual at tasks like Looking At People Who Are Chewing Gum and "not edging away bugeyed when a coworker stands close next to me" and of course the perennial favorite "keeping track of more than three words spoken to me in a row and responding to that" and we'll let me merely say. it is just me and that murderbot. nobody else in this whole damn library understands

[caeli0306]

my super secret solstice gift fic, in the eye of the beholder, is now up on AO3!

in the eye of the beholder can be read HERE.

WHEW. I've been writing this one for like, a month and a half now for the RQ discord's secret solstice gift exchange, but I couldn't share any of it on here because I didn't want to give it away to my giftee! I'm so excited to share it with the world. @overjoyedisland, I hope you enjoy your secret solstice fic! @rq-gift-exchange

Summary:

Mira really doesn't like Xaden Riorson. Especially when he's looking at her baby sister like she's the beginning and end of his world. And that's even more true when her baby sister is looking at him the exact same way.

or

Mira watches Violet fall in love, punches her brother in the face, and faces some uncomfortable truths

===

"Hello, Violence," the traitor's son says, his attention still fully on Violet. Mira isn't even sure if he's noticed her.

All the better, she thinks darkly for only herself to hear. One wrong move, and she'll send him to meet Malek herself.

"You're here," her sister replies a moment later, voice sounding almost... awestruck? That couldn't be right.

And yet, when Mira shifts her stance just enough to get a look at Violet's face, that's exactly how her sister looks. Awestruck.

"Sgaeyl insisted," the wingleader replies. With his tan skin, dark hair, and rider black flight leathers, he almost blends perfectly into the darkness of the woods at his back.

A living shadow. A devourer of light.

And hell if Mira would let him devour Violet, a veritable source of light itself.

[wishbow]

to live is to sacrifice finding balance on what you get what you give what you know what you cannot what you catch what you miss you have a life to try

Inscription under cloth banner of the same image in the library of the Order of the Empty Cup hall in Walla Walla, WA

[wanderingskemetic]

Offerings for Tinia, Tinia-Ra, and Ra in honor of the summer solstice and the secret procession of Ma'at and Ra.

Sin Tinia oh radiant one!

Great lord who dispels disputes,

The land blooms at the sight of you.

Throughout the the people of the league feast

As you give food to those you love.

Sin Tinia-Ra!

He who is the heart of the heavens,

You rise as gold in jubilation.

Lord of all the lands,

Wise one, who comes to a just decision,

I praise you!

Dua Ra, dua Ma'at!

You who walk through the two lands,

The lands are purified by your presence.

Oh great judges, the forces of isfet tremble before you.

May you drive them from people's hearts so that all might be good.

[suebswrites]

MY SECRET SOLSTICE FIC FOR @alittlegirlwaitinginagarden

The night before Xaden leaves for Basgiath, Liam shows up at Xaden's door, and feelings begin to surface that he doesn't know what to do with.

Years later, Xaden is forced to consider just what the blue-eyed man really means to him.

Thank you @copperfirebird and @yanny-77 for beta'ing!! And Yanny for coordinating for me as I flailed early on, trying to make sure I delivered EVERYTHING my dear giftee wanted.

ENJOY!!!

[goforth-ladymidnight]

For @achaotichuman, from me! 🎅Happy @acotargiftexchange!

You asked for:

Canon-compliant (ish) post-ACOFAS/ACOSF

Tamcien

Angst

Mutual Pining

Hurt/Comfort

I hope I delivered! ✨🎁

Full disclosure: This was supposed to be a one-shot, but, uh... I got carried away. 😅At this point, I just know it's going to be multiple chapters. So, um... Merry Christmas to you!! 🎄

Thank you for giving me so much freedom with this story! While it's not specifically a holiday fic, I did give it a Winter Solstice setting. (Happy Solstice, by the way!) And thank you for your patience for this very last-minute reveal.

I hope you enjoy!

THE WOLF AND THE FOX

Ch. 1/?

Pairing: Tamlin x Lucien

Wordcount: 2.1k

Summary: It's the day of Winter Solstice, and while Lucien has an obligation to visit the Night Court, he decides to visit Tamlin in the Spring Court first to deliver a very important message.

The first chapter is available to read on AO3 now, or you can read it here below the cut:

Part 1: Winter

* * *

It was the beginning of winter when the fox approached the wolf’s den.

* * *

The vines were new.

The last time Lucien had visited the Spring Court manor, the claw marks in the door were the first thing anyone saw. A warning, perhaps, of what could happen if anyone dared to knock. Now, however, tangled vines grew, hiding the gouges—and the door knockers—from view. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought the vines meant that nature was healing the broken manor. But he did know better. Nature was taking over.

Lucien pushed on one of the doors, and it creaked where he pressed, straining against the green vines that clung to it.

“Tam?” he called through the narrow opening. “Tam, are you in there?”

Silence.

He pushed harder, and the vines snapped and snarled as they fell, releasing their hold on the door before falling into a rustling heap at his feet. It even seemed as though they sighed, but he could have been imagining it. The door swung slowly open, so Lucien took a deep breath and tugged at the hem of his embroidered jacket before stepping across the broken threshold.

His golden eye whirred against the dim light, but he didn’t need it to see. He knew the room very well. Or, at least, he used to.

Here was the black-and-white marble floor, once shining, now covered in dust and debris. There was the winding staircase with the oak banister that seemed to be held aloft by delicate vines made of brass, now badly in need of a polish. And there, there used to be a table that held enormous vases of freshly plucked flowers from the garden: hydrangeas, peonies, tulips, roses… The Lady of Spring’s roses.

But that table was broken now. It had been whole once, strong enough to hold a broken body… a winged faerie with no wings…

Lucien shivered at the memory and turned away.

Rosehall Manor was empty, yet full of so many memories… Memories, and ghosts.

Lucien squared his shoulders and looked around for the one that was neither man nor ghost. He was looking for a beast.

“Tam?” he called out again, and his voice echoed. “Tamlin Hawthorn, High Lord of Spring, I seek an audience with you.”

“An audience,” a familiar voice echoed, drifting from the top of the stairs. “How formal of you.”

Lucien lifted his head, but saw no one. His metal eye could see through glamours, but the owner of that deep, growling voice didn’t need one. Not when the manor was filled with so many shadows.

“Tell me: What is the occasion?” the voice went on, though it rasped a bit, as if it hadn’t been used in a while. “I need to know if I should serve wine or whiskey to my guest.”

Lucien swallowed. “It’s Solstice, Tam,” he managed.

“Summer, or Winter?”

Lucien’s shoulders sagged a bit. “It’s Winter, Tam.”

“Ah. Winter,” Tamlin mused distantly. “Whiskey, it is, then.”

Before Lucien could respond, Tamlin called out, “Alis? A glass of my finest whiskey for the Night Court’s finest emissary… What’s that? You say you’ve returned to the Summer Court? As has everyone else in the manor? Oh, yes. Yes, I see.”

Lucien rolled his good eye, but his host didn’t seem to notice.

“It would seem that I have no servants left to serve you,” Tamlin said dryly. “Or whiskey to serve. Or glasses to serve it in, for that matter.”

It seemed to Lucien that the dark shape at the top of the stairs sank down like a cat and crossed its massive paws.

“So, in light of the circumstances, perhaps we should dispense with the formalities, so that you may be on your way… to enjoy the rest of the Night Court’s most auspicious holiday.”

“Tam, this is serious,” Lucien chided. “I need to speak with you.”

“And I need to finish my nap before I go hunting tonight, so make it quick.”

Lucien took a deep, albeit exasperated, breath and shook his head in resignation. “Fine. It’s about Feyre.”

Any amusement in the beast’s voice, however mild, vanished in an instant. “What about Feyre?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“You haven’t told me.”

Lucien spread his fingers wide. “Before I tell you, you should know—”

“Is she dead?”

Lucien sighed. “She’s with child.”

A long pause. “I see.”

“I just…” Lucien lifted his hands, then let them fall. “I thought it would be better if you heard it from me.”

“And I suppose you thought I would be grateful.” There was a sneer in Tamlin’s tone, but it softened when he asked, “Is she happy?”

“I would assume so.”

“And her mate?”

“You already know the answer to that question.”

“Yes,” Tamlin mused quietly. “I am surprised that he didn’t come down here himself to gloat.”

“Rumor has it he was too busy doing just that in the Hewn City last night,” Lucien said wryly, then cleared his throat. “But I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t invited.”

“What a coincidence. Neither was I.”

Lucien’s lips twitched into a smile. For a moment, it was like old times… but his smile faded as he remembered the other reason he had come. “I have business in the Night Court tonight. Are there any messages you wish to convey?”

“If you expect me to offer up my congratulations, you can piss off,” Tamlin snarled, all traces of friendliness gone. “I have nothing more to say; to you, or to them.” The beastly shape rose to its feet. “Now get out, and take your formalities with you.”

“Tam, wait,” Lucien said, starting for the stairs.

A sharp growl stopped him short. “It may be Solstice, but that does not mean you can enter my home uninvited. Do so again, and you will find thorns in your boots. I still have that much power, I can assure you.”

Lucien’s toes curled at the thought, but he reached into his jacket pocket anyway. “It’s just—I have something for you.”

“If this is another message from Night—”

Lucien pulled a small envelope out of his pocket. “It’s an invitation.”

“To what.”

“To a party,” Lucien said simply. “With the Band of Exiles,” he added, and held it out.

There was a long, long pause. “Why,” was all the beast said.

“Because it’s Solstice,” Lucien said gently. “And you’re my friend.”

When Tamlin remained still, and silent, Lucien stepped forward—slowly—and carefully placed the envelope on top of the flat swirled handrail at the bottom of the stairs.

As he stepped back, he continued, “I know I should have given it to you sooner, but… I had hoped…” He shrugged, struggling to find the words. “I thought you might invite me here like you did last year,” he admitted at last.

Now that his good eye was fully adjusted to the dim light, he could see the gleam of the beast’s green gaze as it fell on the creamy envelope.

“To do what, exactly,” Tamlin said flatly.

Lucien shrugged again. “To celebrate. To be together.”

“As we once were?” Tamlin finished mockingly.

Lucien’s face flushed.

“Those days are over,” Tamlin said coolly. “You know that. You’ve known that ever since the night of the Masquerade Ball.”

Lucien took a step forward. “Tam…”

“Don’t.” He said it so sharply that Lucien actually fell back a step. “I am still High Lord, and you do not have my permission to approach.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened. “I thought you hated formalities.”

“And I thought you had business to attend to… at the Night Court.”

Lucien snorted in disgust and looked away. “Very well, if you must know, Feyre invited me to spend the evening with her and her family… for Solstice.”

“Is that right.”

Lucien looked to the top of the stairs, but the rest of Tamlin’s beastly expression was still well-hidden by shadow. “My mate is going to be there,” he said flatly. “I have to go. If there is a chance that someone out there wants me…”

“I never said I didn’t want you.”

Lucien blinked against the sudden blurriness in his right eye. His left eye was always clear. Clear and cold and mechanical. Pity that his heart couldn’t be the same.

Tamlin continued, “I only said it would be best if we… remained friends.”

Lucien swiped away a stray tear from his cheek with his thumb. “Is that all we were?” he asked evenly. “Friends?”

Several—painful—heartbeats passed before Tamlin answered. “The Cauldron has finally blessed you with a mate,” he said quietly. “After everything you’ve been through… You deserve it. It’s what you’ve always wanted—”

“Not always.”

In that moment, the golden thread of fate that bound him to someone else seemed to grow slack. He took a tentative step forward, and Tamlin did not rebuke him.

Lucien reached out and laid his hand on the banister, next to the unopened invitation. “The party is tomorrow night, at Northwall Manor,” he said gently. “It’s just going to be me, and Jurian, and Vassa… Will you come?”

Lucien’s heart rose as Tamlin seemed to be considering it… but it fell when Tamlin finally answered.

“The Spring Court cannot withstand another attack from another Archeron sister,” he said flatly. “Elain is bound to you, just as Feyre is bound to Rhys.”

Lucien shook his head. “Tam…”

“You saw what Feyre did when I tried to sever her bond,” Tamlin snapped. “To get closer to your mate, you helped her. You chose her over me. You chose them both over me.”

Lucien’s chest grew tight. “As if you didn’t choose Ianthe over me.”

Tamlin growled. “I did what I thought was right… for Feyre.”

“So did I.”

Tamlin’s green-eyed glare seemed to glow in the dim light… but even so, he was the first to look away.

“Go away,” the High Lord said quietly.

Lucien blinked in surprise. “What?”

“I said: Go. Away,” Tamlin repeated emphatically. “Go. Enjoy your party. Enjoy what’s left of Solstice.”

Lucien watched in dismay as his shaggy form turned away from the landing. “Tam, wait…”

“What?” the beast snarled. “What do you want from me? A gift? An apology? Fine.”

His heavy paw touched the top of the stairs.

“I’m sorry I listened to the words of a High Priestess that I trusted for centuries,” he snarled, then took another step. “I’m sorry I tried to save the woman I loved from my worst enemy.” With each step, he got closer, and angrier. “I’m sorry I allowed Hybern onto my lands instead of waiting for them to invade. I’m sorry I sent my men across the Wall to be butchered like cattle. And I’m sorry I was a coward and sent you Under the Mountain in my place. If I had just let Amarantha have her way with me at the High Lords’ Ball that night, none of this would have happened.”

Lucien slowly shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t mean that,” he said distantly.

Tamlin’s beastly green eyes stared directly into his own. “Yes I do,” he said quietly.

Tamlin was in even worse shape than Eris said. Gone was his shining golden mane, replaced by matted fur as dull as dirt. His bone-white antlers were cracked and crusted with dried blood from the long thorns sprouting there. He was much thinner, too; his under-eyes and cheeks were hollow, even with the fur.

Lucien slowly reached out a hand to touch Tamlin’s furred cheek. “What happened to you,” he murmured.

Tamlin’s lip curled, revealing his long, yellow fangs, and he snapped, barely missing Lucien’s fingers.

Lucien instinctively jerked away and flexed his fingers, but he knew—deep down—that Tamlin didn’t want to bite him. “I was trying to say that what happened to you is not your fault.”

Tamlin growled at him. “I don’t want your damn pity,” he muttered, then turned away.

Lucien huffed in aggravation. “Then what do you want?” he called out as the beast took the stairs two at a time.

Tamlin was already at the top when he called back, “I want to be left alone, and you can tell your masters that I said so.”

“They’re not—” Lucien faltered, because that’s exactly what they were. As long as Elain dwelled in the Night Court, they could make Lucien do whatever they wanted, like a puppet on a string. That same string—that golden thread—tightened around his ribs, and Lucien let out a tired, resigned sigh.

“Happy Solstice, Tam,” he managed, then gave a slight bow before turning away toward the sliver of fading sunlight still visible through the open doorway.

He might have been imagining it, but he thought he heard something sigh: “Happy Solstice,” before he stepped across the threshold and winnowed away to the realm of the Night Court.

* * *

At his approach, the wolf growled a warning growl, so the fox retreated into the safety of the shadows.

* * *

[positivelyruined]

𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒶𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓁𝓀 Spotify | Apple Music

𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒶𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓁𝓀 Spotify | Apple Music

𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚂𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚙, 𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢! 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊 (𝚏𝚊𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎) 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛.

𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝙸 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚃𝚊𝚖𝚕𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝙻𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐.𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 — 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎. 𝙷𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝙰 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜! 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚘 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗.

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚒𝚗’ 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝙻𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚎, 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 (𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜, 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊𝚞𝚔𝚊𝚑, 𝚂𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚈𝚞𝚕𝚎, 𝙺𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚣𝚊, 𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗) 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚝𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚓𝚘𝚢, 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜. 𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚊𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛.

𝙲𝚎𝙲𝚎 𝚊𝚔𝚊 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢𝚁𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍

@acotargiftexchange @paytowinsundays

[styxxsyringe]

charlotte and mr. cinnamon's big show! dec 31st! you're all invited!

[lana7779]

Hey @retracexcviii ! Here's your secret santa gift of darling Ada! Hope you like her! 💖

[elvendoodles]

The final queens of Solanir, Queen Solstice Heavensight and Queen Consort Helia Brightdawn.

Art/Ask Prompt Masterlist

ON TUMBLR REBLOGS ARE BETTER THAN LIKES!!!

[fruitcoops]

Solstice Sweetheart

Happy Secret Santa, Elise! This was such a fun prompt to tackle, and I hope you find as much joy in the New Year as these three <3 O'Darwin belong to @lumosinlove and the Cold Brewed Enchantments/ witchy coffeeshop genderbend AU is credited to the server's lovely minds!

Nat inhaled.

Bottles on the table—mostly. Repurposed jars held most of their previous contents, and those had been scattered to kingdom come since the night began. As they should be, of course. He could think of nothing worse than a mediocre solstice party. Awkwardness was born and bred in the cliquey little huddles of a party gone wrong.

Nat exhaled.

None of that, now. The house was still standing. People had fun. Out-of-control spellwork had been kept to a dull roar, even after the firewhiskey made an appearance. He could feel, deep in his soul, that it had been a good night.

Glass chimed in the other room. Kasey, if Nat had to guess. That sound had the hallmarks of her careful handling all over it. Alex was somewhere on the stairs if the heavy footsteps were any indication. If she was untangling the streamers from the banister, Nat was going to…he didn’t even know, anymore. He had spent the better part of a year since Alex’s arrival in their little town trying to figure out what the hell was going on between his girlfriend and the gorgeous new girl, with naught but a spinning head to show for it.

They knew each other. Kasey had told him that much. The dulled gray-blue of her tone said more than words could.

Soft humming floated through the empty doorframe. The gentle rasp of Alex’s voice had such a lovely color to it, like fresh maple syrup or crystalline honey. It glowed against the jewel tones of the rest of her—rich, curling clues tucked in tight next to sparking reds.

Kasey’s braid caught the light when she turned, only just visible through the kitchen doorway. Nat had loved that about their house since the first day; so few doors to still the air. Something was always in motion, always making noise. He wished Kasey could see it—the brilliance of sound, the cool shades of her voice—but she just seemed to like it so much when he described it.

And maybe that was something just for him to cherish. Their life clung to the ceiling corners like cobwebs. Words and music and laughter. A snippet of Kasey singing ‘happy birthday’ had been lingering in the dining room window since the summer.

“Winter!”

An electric blue comet zipped from the stairs to the kitchen sink.

“What?” came the mossy wave of Kasey’s answer.

“Knutty promised pastries for us tomorrow! She’s trying new recipes. Needs extra mouths.”

Alex would need more hands if she was trying to text Leo and clean at the same time. Nat gathered an armful of empty bottles off the table and dumped them into the recycling bin before turning to the staircase, where one sneaker-clad foot was barely visible through the slats in the railing.

“New recipes?” he asked.

Alex’s face popped into view. Still freckled, even in the dead of winter. Nat felt his stomach perform a funny little flip-flop over itself at her bright smile. “Oh, hey!”

Orange and gold fireworks, crackling about her head. “Thanks for cleaning that up.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Alex’s vague wave sent a curlicue of taupe his way. His mouth tanged with citrus when it reached him. “Least I can do.”

“None of the other guests stayed to help,” Nat pointed out, bending to collect a few paper crowns.

“None of the other guests are as gracious as me.” Her smile was quick and mischievous, but genuine. How often had Nat thought the same of its owner? “Get up here, Music Man. Where’s your solstice sweetheart?”

“Downstairs, with the dishes.”

Alex pulled a face that made her pointed nose wrinkle. “I told her I’d handle those.”

“Clearly it worked,” Nat teased. “Don’t feel too bad. You know how she gets around the solstice.”

A test. Just a teeny-tiny-itty-bitty maybe of a test. Alex’s fond smile was far and away the best answer. “Yeah,” she said, darting a grin toward Nat. “You’re a lucky one, Darcy. It ain’t easy being a seasonal delight.”

“I think she’s pretty great all year.”

“Good answer.”

It was times like this when Nat wondered if Alex could see what he saw. Or at least, if she understood. Dark topaz eyes ticked along the path of pensive purple.

Alex had been speaking in purple a lot, lately. He knew why. Even without his gift, he’d be a fool to miss the way she reached, hesitated, ached for Kasey now that their distance could be measured in inches instead of borders. It pulled at them both, torn edges of the past snagging on the present. He knew what it felt like to match himself to Kasey’s steady keel and let her draw him through her oceans. Alex spoke like someone who had swum those waters before, unafraid that Kasey would ever close the ice around her.

Nat…wanted that. For himself, and a laughed morning, Music Man held in golden parentheses, but more than that, for Kasey. She deserved so much. He could give so much. But if Alex had ridden out the storm and found harbor in Kasey’s heart enough to linger after all these years, Nat would be worse than a fool to let that fall away for his own sake. He could love them both.

Did.

Would.

“Nathaniel.”

“Alexandra.”

“You’re thinking at me.”

“You’re in love with my girlfriend.”

Alex’s hands never stuttered on the loops of ribbon. “Yes.”

Butter yellow. A pastel, more tender than her heavy saturation, but unyielding. “You didn’t stay here just to be a good guest.”

“No.”

Dandelion cradled in blush pink. “You’re in love with me.”

“Yes.”

She didn’t whisper. He didn’t know why he thought she would. Alex never whispered. She was far too vibrant for it to do any good. It didn’t matter if she was banging on their door to drag them out for a taste of Leo’s kitchen witchery or falling asleep on their throw pillows in her fox form—wherever Alex was, the world grew brighter.

“You should tell her,” Nat said.

“I won’t get in the way of what you have.”

“You won’t,” he agreed. It had lacked the fuzzy edges of a question, but that didn’t matter. Anything, as long as she understood.

“It’s—” The maroon undercurrent of her voice curdled mauve. Her gaze fell on him with the weight of a feather alighting on the water. “It was before you. I let her go. It’s okay.”

“Alexandra.” An old joke between them, perhaps too flirty for simple friends. Nat propped his chin on the end of the railing and made sure she was looking, really looking, before he continued. “I’m in love with my girlfriend, and I’m more in love with you every time you come by, and I’m pretty sure our solstice sweetheart has been head over heels for you since the day you met.”

Alex’s lips pressed together, but the smile ticking at the corners betrayed her.

“It seems like a waste to sit here and be sad on the stairs when Kasey Winter is in the kitchen and waiting for you to say something,” he finished quietly.

His heart should be racing. His stomach should be in knots, all aflutter the way it had been when he first asked Kasey out. But with Alex looking at him like she could hardly believe the marvel of her ears, he found only calm waiting.

“Yes.”

Crimson bloomed around the word. Alex was so sure of herself—Nat thought he might love that most about her, from not-so-sneaky tips stuffed into her sister’s café jar to her utter confidence that whatever new drink she brought to their doorstep would be the most delicious thing they had ever tasted. She was unfailingly correct. His eyes flickered to her mouth.

“What are you waiting for?” she challenged.

“Kasey first.” She deserved so much.

Alex’s smile grew, and she pushed herself up with a “don’t have to tell me twice” that flashed peacock through the stairwell. Peacock, like Kasey’s laughter on the first day of winter when her magic was thick and strong in her veins. Nat was pretty sure some part of his heart beat just to hear that sound and watch it coat their home.

He was already reaching for the ribbon where she left off when Alex’s hand closed around his wrist and dragged him after her. He couldn’t help a laugh and didn’t particularly want to—turquoise shimmered ahead of them where Kasey was singing along to the record player under her breath. What a thing to have waiting.

“Winter.”

Kasey looked up, a casserole dish held in both hands under the warm water. Her eyes darted between them; a golden brow arched. “What did you…”

It took two steps for Alex to close the distance between them. She shut the faucet off and took Kasey’s hands from the sink, holding her wrists between them without a care for the water dripping on them both. “Please?” came the lilac-soft request.

Any other time of year, and Kasey might have questioned it.

The solstice lined her in threads of gold and blue. Her cheeks were round and flushed pink with power, and her hands were steady despite the anticipation that quickened her breath when she looked to Nat, then back to Alex, then to Nat once more. “You spoke?”

“Yeah.”

Kasey leaned in and kissed her without a moment’s hesitation.

Nat watched Alex’s ribs expand to accommodate a deep breath in—tiny crystals of ice began budding in the water droplets on Kasey’s skin as she cupped her hands around the back of Alex’s head and exhaled, long enough for steam to billow up between them. It was kind of the season to let everyone else see how much of a wonder she was.

“Mmm, wait wait wait,” Alex hummed when Kasey began pulling away. She closed her hands around Kasey’s forearms without a care for the chill and kissed the smile from her lips in a burst. “Storm girl,” she whispered with periwinkle fondness that made Kasey blush. Her thumb traced the peony-pink of her cheekbones and Nat steadied himself on the countertop. “Gods and fae, I missed you.”

Nat loved her when she was a chattering fox on their couch, and loved her when she was tall and kind and warm in every word. He loved her when her booming reds mingled with Kasey’s mellow blue in harmony so perfect it struck him silent, just to listen and watch for a second longer.

“Nathaniel!”

When Alex pulled away to launch herself into his arms with a laugh so bright and happy he could see it through closed eyes, he thought he might love her so much he’d burst with it. The solstice was the time of greatest and best change for them. He could think of no better way to start anew than with Alex beside them.

[parkchvnyeols]

today christians feel how we would feel if we got an exo cb 😔

honestly i hate this but you’re right

[neverfaerie]

Winter is Here!

Great job bringing winter to the Mainland, pixies!

TinkerBell : Secret of the Wings (2012)