#“alright firelight” my BELOVED

[wickedcriminal]

thinking about ur ocs again (jsyk)

ASDGHJKL ME TOOOOO I WAS JUST DRAWING MY BOYS THE OTHER DAY

Who needs names when your companion will call you whatever

[beanghostprincess]

Tumblr crossed soul mates yessssssss you have the BEST opinions and dropping asks here is so much fun and really it's the highlight of my day.

Shanks trying to get flirting advice from the crew, specifically Roger, is both so in character and absolutely hilarious. Like. Dropping my own headcanon here, but I feel like Rouge was probably ALSO a badass of a woman, and so Roger's type is women who could destroy me. Shanks has the same taste, plus a little extra friends-to-lovers trope seasoning for extra Flavor. Crocus is just off to the side, either NO help or equally as bad. Rayleigh is certain he's going gray already bc of the Shenanigans.

Imagine for a moment that Shanks keeps Not Being Clear. He thinks he's being OBVIOUS, but Buggy, while Suspecting Smth, isn't gonna make it easy on him (she also is terrified to be misreading things and refuses to take that chance. She talks mad shit, but Shanks is her PERSON. Of course she loves him, of course he's her soulmate, her beloved, her bst friend, her comrade, of course of course of course. But she'd rather remain best friends and pining inside than risk losing him at all.).

It comes to a head when they have their Regularly Scheduled Whitebeard V Roger Fight.

((Insert a crack ship here but-)) Maybe, after the battle, during the cool down, this time around there's no Teach to set Buggy's instincts off. Maybe Marco, just a few years the cabin kids' senior, has Noticed Buggy. Maybe the Phoenix is preening and fighting weird, sudden instincts and is so absolutely FLUSTERED by it. Maybe Buggy is, in turn, flustered or flattered by the attention - maybe she even misconstrues it.

Marco is letting Buggy look over his books, is offering her his hand when boarding or stepping off a ship - either ship, mind you - is sharing his food, is shouldering others aside to give her something Shiny and Pretty, is attentive to if she shivers, if she sweats, offers her comfortable places to sit, is just.... in her orbit.

And Shanks does not like that, not one bit.

So he's in a Mood, as one would expect of a jealous teen boy, no matter his general disposition.

Others have noticed by now, the intense glaring matches between Marco and Shanks are shooting over an oblivious Buggy's head. She's just too excited by treasures, fabrics, textures and books to care much about the boys - until the evening.

Marco invites her to read together by the firelight, a blanket in one arm. She's tempted - he has a few books on constellations that she's debating lifting from their dusty shelves, and so few on the Oro Jackson enjoy reading the way she does.

But then a hand hooks decisively on her waist. Suddenly, Shanks is beside her, arm around her, holding her, pinning her, to his side and chest as he shoots what may generously be called a smile at the zoan devil fruit user.

"Buggy is capable of speaking for herself, Red-yoi."

"Oh, she is! Absolutely, I'll never cast doubt on that. She's spirited, alright. But ya know something, bird brain?" His eyes darken, smiled falling. "She's mine."

"Is she now?"

"If she wants to be - I won't force it. But watch your hands. Don't get so touchy with my Buggy."

"Stay in your lane, Shanks-yoi."

And suddenly the hand on her waist is gone. Suddenly Shanks is gone. Suddenly there's a brawl, right there, and Buggy is left gaping as her brain works on overdrive.

Half the assembled crews are drunk and cheering them on, a good chunk are asleep or off wandering, but Buggy is soon swept into the safe cocoon of Toki's arms, tucked to her side.

She is transfered to Roger, to Rayleigh, taken home and calmed down because the fragile, precarious structure she has assembled now has become full of unknowns. She's losing her mind over it, but more than that, she's fighting a desperate hope that she hates herself for having.

Shanks can do so much better than her, she tells herself.

The boy in question comes staggering in soon after - he was pissed at Marco, sure, but he noticed when she started panicking, when she began floating, when she was gone - and he came for her. He came as quickly as he could.

And he apologizes. "I shouldn't have called you mine."

Her chest feels like it's been stabbed.

He continues without hesitation. "You're your own person. You're too bright and smart and strong and awesome to just be some guy's girl. You're Buggy, and my feelings for you shouldn't ever take that away from you."

"What..."

"Mm?"

"What are you feelings for me?"

And they cry that night. They yell, and scream, and cry, and laugh, and when they fall asleep, it's tangled together in his hammock, her head resting on his chest and his grin buried in blue curls.

Marco and Shanks, both as adults, still have a semi-playful rivalry going on where they're down to throw hands at the drop of a hat, but it's all in good fun. They still sometimes argue over Buggy, but it's mostly to get her to blush, cackle or yell at them - usually, all three, though not in that order. Marco calls her "the one that got away" and makes the melodramatic "sometimes I can still hear her voice-" comments if only bc it makes people either laugh, groan, or get absolutely flabbergasted.

He was invited to their wedding.

AAA I'm so glad you're having fun sending the asks because I have so much fun reading your ideas <33 They're just SO good.

This is all PERFECT. Rouge was definitely a badass of a woman and somehow Roger managed to date her. Somehow. He doesn't know. He thinks he knows. He doesn't. And his advice isn't really that helpful for Shanks, ngl. He's just left without knowing exactly what to do to win Buggy's heart, but at least he can talk to Roger about it.

And,,, The Marco thing,,, The jealousy,, Especially with the rizz this man has, honestly, Shanks is righteously feeling intimidated. He's older than them and he's hotter. He looks more mature and calm and he reads and does those things Buggy enjoys. He makes her laugh, too, and Shanks is furious because he should be the one making her laugh!! It's not only that it makes him mad, but also, it makes him feel insecure about himself and his abilities. The thing is, Marco makes Buggy feel comfortable and appreciates her a lot, but he isn't Shanks. She thinks that Shanks doesn't feel the same and she won't confess either because she's scared of ruining their friendship. So Marco is the best option here, right? She should settle for him. But he isn't Shanks. And Shanks knows he doesn't have any right to claim Buggy or whatever, but this is pissing him off a lot. Both of them being stupid and feeling insecure about the other's feelings is so good,, And then they talk things out, of course, because Shanks shouldn't have said those things, but also Buggy did like it. Kind of. The fact that he was so protective of her. And that night they finally confess and kiss for the first time and it's just so good-- They laugh and whisper sweet nothings between kisses and it's the first time they do it but it feels so right. Buggy thinks about them being soulmates, but Shanks is the one to say it out loud.

And ever since, Shanks and Marco have had this rivalry and nobody knows exactly why because they never tell people about it. But it's just so hilarious to see them bicker for something that happened years ago. Every time Buggy remembers that, her self-esteem goes higher and higher, so at least she gets something good out of it.

[lune-hime]

I just love your writing and have been reading a lot of your stuff these past few days. I really enjoyed how you wrote Logan Howletts character, you did an amazing job. I think of those two stories you wrote as connected, and seeing that your requests are open, could you write possibly how they meet or moments in their relationship? Whatever comes to mind.

Hope your well and enjoy writing this if you decide to take it. ❤️

It makes me so incredibly happy that you have been loving my stories and my portrayal of Logan :’). Logan and reader’s first meeting had been previously requested so I went with a few moments in their relationship. Thank you for being patient with me in posting this, I hope you enjoy and that you are doing well <3. 

↞↠↞↠↞↠

A Second-First Meeting

“You’re Logan.” Storm let out a melodic chuckle, her realization breaking the silence within the jet.

“Uh...yeah.” He said with a quirked brow. The ivory haired woman’s jaw went slack and another giddy laugh erupted from her. Logan's eyes darted from the oddly acting woman to Rogue who only shrugged, looking just as confused as he was.

“Logan from Canada.” She stated in semi-awe, looking him up and down as if comparing him to information she already had. It made Logan feel like he was missing something.

“He looks dirtier than she described.” Scott let out a snarky huff from the pilot’s seat.

“Okay, what is this?” Logan rose his voice to just below a growl, irritation evident in his tone. Storm put her hands up in harmless defense.

“You met Y/N in the summer. Saved her from becoming a prune all alone in the woods, remember?” Storm said and beamed brightly. Logan’s eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. The bears, the beautiful girl, the thunderous storm and her lightening energy.

“You know Y/N?” He said in disbelief.

“Know her? She’s my best friend.” Storm giggled. “She told us all about you; how she fended off that bear but didn’t have to fend you off when you guys huddled up in your car.”

Storm winked at him as he narrowed his eyes at her teasing. Rogue let out a little giggle of her own at Logan’s speechlessness.

“We’re landing.” Scott announced as everyone began feeling their smooth decrease in altitude.

“All jokes aside, thanks for looking out for her.” Storm added with a kind smile before she swiveled in her copilot’s seat to help Scott with their descent.

⇷⛒⇸

“Hey, kid, is Y/N here?” Logan asked the child in front of him. He found himself on the precipice of a new life it seems, but more literally on the precipice of the lounge area in Xavier's Mansion. He was exhausted after an abrupt and confusing flight from his little slice of Alberta to New York. His head was spinning from all of the information about Mutant Brotherhoods and Striker that was just laid upon him. And now the remembrance of the girl caught in the rain who had once told him she lived at this very school.  

“Ms. Y/N? Yeah she lives here.” The child said nonchalantly. Each time he blinked, a new channel would appear on the almost theatre sized TV. “She sometimes teaches my kinetics training.”

Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Relief washed over him that he would have at least one familiar face here.

“Where can I find her?” He asked the boy who still hadn’t taken his gaze away from the television. He briefly paused on the Disney channel before continuing his search.

“Why would I know? I’ve been watching TV all morning.” The kid huffed as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. Logan grumbled and sauntered out of the room and back into the many mahogany halls of the massive building.

As he neared the large eastern courtyard, he caught a glimpse of just the woman he was looking for. Through the immaculately planted dormant shrubs he observed you standing next to an ornate fountain chatting with a girl who looked to be around middle school age. He felt that same energizing hum in his chest as he did a few months ago when he took in your appearance. The way you smiled so sweetly at the student, the way your hair was gently pulled from your face by the brisk winter wind, in how your legs bobbed back and forth in place as they fended off the early afternoon chill. He waited for you to finish your conversation with the child before he made his presence known.

“Y/N?” He called tentatively as he eased his way between the garden boughs. You looked up towards the direction of your summon. When you saw who it was, your eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Logan!” You chirped and jogged over to him. “How was the flight?”

“You knew I was coming?” He asked, surprised at the lack of surprise in your reaction.

“I did.” You answered with a guilty smile. “I’m a part of the team now too so I was there when Charles made the call to find you.”

Logan’s mind tried to connect the dots between the sweet yet snappy, soaked girl he met before to the cleaned up, self assured one standing before him. He pictured you using your abilities to fight opponents rather than bears and guessed you would be goddamned good at it with sparks like yours.

“I’m really glad he did…” You trailed off with the beginnings of a goofy grin. “That he found you and brought you here of course, not that you’re being targeted by the Brotherhood-”

“It’s good to see you again.” He confessed, his honeyed voice coating your rambling and effectively adding to the chilly redness of your cheeks.

“You too.” You replied softly, trying not to ogle at his casual attire of heather gray sweatshirt and joggers.

“I think you owe me, though. I gave you a free ride back then.” He declared with a smirk.

“Fine, do you need a ride to the nearest tractor supply for a new wardrobe?” You quipped back. Logan let his half smile bloom into a full crescent moon.

“Sure, if I can take you out for a drink after.” He proposed with a look that made you feel like the New England snow had suddenly melted around you and you were now in a humid jungle.

“Well, I did have another date tonight…” You began, looking up at the taller man through your lashes. If you hadn’t already been looking at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the minute clench of his jaw.

“Buuuut, I don’t think he would be able to handle being accidentally zapped as well as you would.” You continued playfully. Your suitor paled in any comparison to the old acquaintance that had just arrived at your doorstep. The amusement in your eyes was contagious, spreading to Logan’s forested green orbs and down to his boyish grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Firelight

You hummed in utter bliss. The warmth of the campfire kissed your bare legs as your tired eyes gazed upon the moon basked lake in front of you. You nuzzled deeper into the crook of Logan’s neck as the crickets and the treefrogs serenaded you with a private summer evening concert.

Logan’s hand lazily ran the expanse of your hip and thigh from your position curled across him in the camping chair. He was about to close his eyes in complete relaxation when a boisterous banging erupted from one of the cabins in your section of the campground. The clanging was followed by a teenage chorus of muffled curses and cackles. The two of you had volunteered to be counselors of sorts on this weeklong camping trip Charles held for his beloved students each summer.  Logan groaned at the disturbance, slightly annoyed with your rowdy group of students.

“They’re just having fun. As long as no one comes out on fire or with a leg missing it's fine.” You spoke up, tone laced with amusement. “Admit you love them-and spending quality time with them out here.” 

You felt Logan huff against you at your wholesome accusation. 

“I love being out here in the woods, with you.” 

Logan’s answer wasn’t to your satisfaction. You zapped him gently with a single crackle of your energy just beneath the rib cage.  When he jolted from the surprise attack, you folded yourself to him so that you were now straddling his lap. 

“Sure. Not like I saw you earlier spending an hour teaching Rogue how to fish properly after she got her line all strung up in the nearest tree. Or how you, willingly I might add, played hide and seek with the younger ones when you were supposed to be taking a break. Or when-” 

You rambled off his sweet acts in adoration until he leaned up to press his lips to yours. You sunk into his embrace and sighed at the euphoric feeling. 

“Alright, alright. You’ve proved your point.” He grumbled half heartedly. In the fading natural light, you could see the lazy smile that adorned his face had become dusted with your lip gloss. You returned his response with a triumphant grin as he gingerly grasped the back of your head and pulled you to him once more. His heated palms sailed over your curves like a forest fire as your kisses deepened. You let out a small moan when he discretely bucked his hips into yours. 

Or, what the two of you had thought was discrete. 

“Gross. I’m just trying to get to the bathroom.” Bobby complained with a grimace as he walked by the two of you towards the community restrooms. You let out a chuckle as Logan brought his fist up to Bobby’s line of vision, a single adamantium claw extending to flip the younger man off against the firelight. 

[mrfeenysmustache]

InuKag Week Day 2

Previous Days: 1

———————

“Kagome, what’s your favorite color?”

Pulled out of the melancholic daydream she’d been lost in, Kagome looked over at her friend Yuka where she stood next to their lunch table with a notepad in hand, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet.

“My favorite color?”

“Yes! An adorable little gift shop opened up close to my house last week with the cutest beaded friendship bracelets. I want to get all of us one for a graduation gift before we go off to university.”

Kagome’s heart twisted a little at the looming possibility of the future, a future that felt so big and empty when so much of her heart and soul lay in the past.

“Hm. Let me think for a second.”

The obvious answer, the one her friends would expect, was pink. Her entire room was pink after all, and at one point in her life most of her school folders and notebooks had been pink, but she knew she’d grown past that. The next colors would be silver or gold for obvious reasons, but they were reasons that still felt too raw and painful to address.

She settled for-

“Red.”

“Red?” Yuka asked, head tilted in confusion.

“Yes. Red.”

“Alright, if you say so.” Her long time friend jotted down her choice and flitted away to corner their other friends, and Kagome smiled wistfully as she watched her leave.

Yes, as unexpected as it may be, red was certainly her favorite color.

Red like fire rat.

She thought of all the times she spent draped in fire rat when enemies swarmed in or fire raged around them, how many times she was pressed close to it as she was whisked away from danger or flown through the air, how many chilly nights she spent wrapped in it when the camp fire just didn’t provide enough warmth.

It was always so warm.

She sighed, full of distant sadness as she forced her thoughts to stop at only the fire rat and not the person underneath it and how long it had been since she’d seen him.

Without Inu- without the fire rat, she felt so cold.

————

Kagome looked at the little red beads of the friendship bracelet Yuka had given her just that morning before they’d received their diplomas. They glowed in the firelight, and illuminated as they were she could see thin threads of silver and gold swirled through the glass. She smiled, happiness and contentment suffusing every pore of her body, and when the fire rat clad arm holding her around her waist tightened and a pair of lips dropped a tentative kiss to her forehead, she closed her eyes and leaned further back into the chest she was resting on.

She looked up into burning gold eyes she’d nearly lost hope of ever seeing again, her grin growing ever wider, straining the muscles in her cheeks until they ached.

“I missed you so much.” He said, a whisper barely loud enough to break the night, lost in the hazy bubble of peace and happiness they’d been enclosed in.

“I missed you too, Inuyasha. Every single day.”

He sighed out three years of bottled up tension and she understood, feeling lighter and brighter than she had in ages.

Wrapped in fire rat once again, as well as the arms of the beloved person inside, her soul finally felt whole and warm again.

[randomingoftherandomness]

Squeals and flails! Your writing is so good! Have been stopping myself from asking for continuations of pretty much every piece, especially the childhood, omega Lao Wen going into heat and possessive Ah Xu ones! Could you write a 5+1 fic with five times Ah Xu dotes on his Lao Wen, and one time Lao Wen is sweet to Ah Xu please? Was thinking that the first moment could be Wenzhou stargazing with Lao Wen falling asleep in Ah Xu’s arms and then Ah Xu hugging him closer? Thank you!

A/N: So this is going to be a 3 + 1 instead of a fiver because I’m sleepy and I want to finish this before bed haha... Sorry...

1. It’s a little too late in the season for them to be indulging in a spot of stargazing on the roof of the Manor, but Lao Wen had complained that they’d barely had any time alone (lies; they’ve stolen plenty of time alone because his ass sure as hell remembers those times alone) and had pulled out his trump card of telling Chengling to gather the kids for a spot of camping out in the plum forests as a form of cultivation exercise.

Zishu isn’t sure what sort of bribery Lao Wen had promised the brat, but he hopes Chengling bargained hard for it.

So, here they were. Up on the rooftop, wrapped up in their cloaks, passing a bottle of pear blossom wine between them as they watch the heavens twinkle down at them. In the distance, Zishu can clearly see the dull glow of the firelight and he feels assured that the kids haven’t gone too far.

“Ah Xu, pay attention to me,” Lao Wen harumphs, wriggling himself into his arms with a laugh. Zishu wraps his arms around him, burying his lips to the crown of his head and kissing him there with a smile. 

“I’m always paying attention to you,” He says.

It takes Lao Wen a beat to reply and when he does, it is a quiet but fond, “I know.”

Under the moonlight, they enjoy each other’s company; reminiscing of their first time stargazing together and all the hijinks that night had entailed. They talk about the progress of the disciples, about Chengling and his upcoming trip to Nanjiang to visit Luta, about the extension they will need to make for the new students that are coming next month.

It is about an hour into this when Zishu realises that Lao Wen has fallen silent. Worried that he may be struck by a bout of strange moods again, he looks down only to find that Lao Wen has fallen asleep in his arms. 

Smiling, he adjusts their cloaks so that they’re bundled up warm in the night chill. Curling a touch to Lao Wen’s cheek, Zishu settles in against him.

2. When Lao Wen sulks, he doesn’t do it in half measures.

Chengling winces at him in sympathy before backing away slowly like he is trying to escape a spooked tiger. In a way, Zishu thinks that this situation probably warrants a strategic retreat of some kind. 

Still. He glares at Chengling’s winning smile as he darts away to safety. That little traitor.

“So when were you planning on telling me that Lord Seventh,” Here Zishu notes that Lao Wen spits the syllables of Beiyuan’s title as if rolling something extremely distasteful in his mouth. “Was coming to visit?”

He mulls over what to say; well-versed as he is in taming Lao Wen when his darkest impulses flare to the fore, Zishu needs to weigh the next things that come out of his mouth before he digs this grave any deeper.

“Or were you not planning on telling me at all?”

The thread of hurt in those words strike true in twisting his heart. Looking up at where Lao Wen has his back to him makes it worse and he hurries across to him, pulling him into his arms and peppering kisses over his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his brows, the plush heat of his lips, as he seats both of them on the divan. 

“I really was going to tell you, I promise,” Zishu says, brushing back his hair. Letting Lao Wen nuzzle against his throat, he sighs. “I know how you are when Beiyuan visits and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with him being here, but he’s one of the few people in the world who knows me as well as you do. He’s a friend and there are times when I just want to have my friend with me.”

“I don’t hate him...” Lao Wen mumbles softly.

Zishu has to laugh at the blatant lie. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell that Lao Wen gets an eye twitch or two when Beiyuan and he exchange some inside joke or two that excludes him. It’s such a little thing; petty by the standards of others and Zishu knows that he isn’t actually jealous or trying to be controlling, but is instead curious and yet dreading all the secrets that Beiyuan may let slip about Zishu’s life before him and all the persons that came before.

Now, that he is jealous about.

He doesn’t say anything to the contrary, merely pull Lao Wen tightly against him. “Alright, alright, if you say so,” He says agreeably, peppering kisses to his husband’s cheek.

3. Absence, as those who claim to be wise, would say, makes the heart grow fonder.

What Zishu finds is that it makes him a fucking misery to be around.

Chengling had long since given up in trying to coax him into some sort of reasonable mood a good week ago and had taken off in the night, leaving a note to say that he will rendezvous with him in another week. That disciple of his is getting better at picking up the subtle things that people are telling him without saying a single word.

He downs another cup of wine. 

It has been horrible to travel this far without Lao Wen. He’d had to contend with constantly looking over his shoulder for a smiling face and the quick-fire wit of his beloved. He has had to draw upon every self-control he had in him not to scream at the Sect Leader they were visiting to further their alliance.

Zishu fumes and drinks two more cups in quick succession.

If Chengling isn’t back in time and if he has to delay his trip back to the Manor just to wait for his silly disciple, he will absolutely without a shadow of a doubt, leave the idiot behind to fend for himself.

He’s done his best to equip the kid for surviving in the wild. No one can fault him for wanting to run back home with the stash of wines he had found on his travels. Zishu had bought them to share with his Lao Wen of course; there were some well-loved flavours and then some others that could be considered rare enough that a former Lord of the Ghost Valley would definitely find delight in the taste of.

Zishu finds himself calming somewhat at the thought of laying out his gifts for Lao Wen; of how those beautiful eyes would widen at the sight of all the wines, of how his lips would curl in a smile as he tastes each and every one of them, savouring them in the only way a connoisseur can; the sounds he would make in his enjoyment that could only come from a place so deep in pleasure--

No, no, no. Zishu is not going there tonight. He downs three cups and sighs. He’s already rubbed himself raw from missing Lao Wen this entire trip. If he does anymore, he’ll probably...

Yeah. Best to just save it til he gets home to his beloved.

+1

Lao Wen likes to think that he is an attentive husband. Certainly, Ah Xu has never wanted for anything when he was with him. Be it in bed or outside of it, he loves to cater to his beloved’s needs. 

As such, when it comes to his birthday, Lao Wen will die before he admits that he doesn’t know what to get him.

In the end, the answer comes simply. 

After the birthday dinner with the members of the Manor, he steals Ah Xu away for a bout of kisses that leave them both weak-kneed and aching jawed. “Get into bed. I’ll bring you your gift,” He says, hands on Ah Xu’s slender waist. Smiling, he swallows down his moan, licking the taste of wine and good food off Ah Xu’s tongue. “You’ll love it.”

He watches his husband stumble back, eyes a deep desire dark.

He cannot wait to see how his Ah Xu unravels when they put into play the little gift he had custom made for him; an exquisite jade that sits on a bed of silk in a lacquer box, hidden in the folds of his second-best robe. The same jade he may or may not have spent a small fortune in carving into the shape of his own cock. 

If he was being honest, this was an entirely selfish gift to be giving someone else on their birthday, but what does he care? This is something Ah Xu and himself can utilise over and over again, and this was something that could be the first of many to come. 

Absently and with glee, he thinks of the day he gets to help Ah Xu model for a jade phallus of his own. 

Oh, Lao Wen is going to have so much fun tonight.

[ladyblogger-margie]

Boys BBQ

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller x M!Reader

Summary: Will takes you to a BBQ to introduce you to his friends. 

Word Count: 2272

Warnings: 18+ Only (anal sex, handjobs, unprotected sex)

a/n: I saw someone observe that there aren't many M!Reader stories, so I thought I’d do my best to contribute to the void! It’s my first time writing M!Reader, so, I just tried my best. Everyone deserves to be taken care of by our beloved Mr Miller. Plus all my comfort characters are bisexual. 

You hovered over Will as he pumped your hard, well lubed cock in his hand a couple times before lining you up at his entrance. 

“You ready for me, baby?” you asked him as he looked up at you, his pupils blown wide. 

“Hell yes, I want you to fuck me,” he ordered you. 

You pushed inside him slowly. You’d already worked him over well with your fingers, but you wanted to be gentle with him. Will had suffered so much for so long, you never wanted him to suffer with you. 

He on the other hand, didn’t seem as concerned. He wrapped his legs around you tightly and gripped your bicep, urging you on. You pumped into him, your hands firm on the bed framing his face between your arms. He turned his head and kissed the tender flesh of your inner forearm. You slammed into him hard and he squeezed his eyes closed, relishing the impact. His tender kiss turned into a bite and it sent a shiver through your body. 

You brought one hand to his cock and stroked it in time with your thrusts. Both of you were breathing hard and you were starting to lose control of your pace as you climbed closer and closer to your release, your movements were erratic as he propped himself up to his forearms to kiss you on the lips. 

“I love you,” he said, and the shock of it had you coming hot and thick inside him. Your grip on his long, thick shaft grew tighter as you shuddered through your release. He had never said that to you before, and you hadn’t said it either.

You were silent, catching your breath as you pulled him off until he came hot and sticky across his own stomach and chest. You pulled out of him gently, slowly and leaned over his perfect, but scarred, body and licked his cum clean off his defined abs. Your legs were shaky as you helped him clean up, still not saying anything. 

When he was taken care of and cleaned up, you flopped over on the bed next to him. He said he loved you when you were balls deep inside of him, he probably didn’t mean it, right?

“I know what you’re doing,” Will said from beside you. He too was on his back staring straight up at the ceiling of your bedroom. 

“Oh, do you?” you quipped sarcastically. 

“Yes, I do. You’re overthinking this. You think I didn’t mean it when I said I loved you,” Will said, rolling over to look at you with his head propped up on his palm. 

“Maybe,” was all you admitted despite the thoughts racing around your head. You furrowed your brow, he was really good at reading you and had demonstrated that fact since you started dating almost 3 months ago. But there was still so much about him and his life you didn’t know, and while you thought you loved him back, could you ever really love someone you didn’t really know?

“You don’t have to say it back,” Will said, “But I just wanted you to know where I stand.”

Then he pulled you into his side with your head on his chest. You curled into him, unable to resist the comfort of his embrace. You ran your fingers gently over the exposed skin of his body, mindlessly running over the scars on his body, especially the particularly gruesome one on the left side of his abdomen. He said he got it last year, but would never elaborate when you asked. 

“I can’t sleep with you thinking that loud,” Will said with his eyes still closed. 

“I’m just thinking about how I don’t actually know you that well,” you explained. 

“I think you know me pretty well,” Will shrugged. 

“I’ve never met your friends even though you’ve met mine, and I don’t even know if they know I exist,” you blurted out. 

Will tilted your head up and kept a finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him, “You know me better than most, but you’re right, I think it’s time you meet my friends.”

The next Saturday you sat shotgun in Will’s truck on the way to his friend Frankie’s house for a barbeque. You were excited to meet his friends until a terrifying thought flashed in your mind. 

“They know I’m a man, right?” you asked. 

Will smiled that endearing half smile that had your knees weak when he answered, “Yes, they know you’re a man.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, but your relief didn’t last when you had a brand new horrifying thought, “They know we’re dating, right?”

Will squeezed your knee, “Yes, I came out to them years ago, they know I’m bisexual and currently dating a man.”

You sighed deep, “Oh thank god, I wasn’t prepared for some big ordeal.”

He chuckled, “Oh it’s going to be an ordeal alright, I haven’t introduced them to anyone since my fiance, so they are going to be insufferable.”

“No pressure,” you tried to look calm but he saw through you completely. 

“I’m teasing. They’re my family, they just want to make sure I’m okay,” he explained, “But I promise they’re good people.”

You tapped your foot rapidly, an unconscious nervous tick, as you nodded, “Like I said, no pressure.”

Will took his hand from your knee and grabbed your hand instead. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of your hand.

“They’ll love you,” he promised as he parked in front of a simple house with a well-loved garden out front. 

You weren’t sure if you should hold his hand or not in front of his friends so you elected to carry the case of beer between you two, removing the possibility from the equation, all the while knowing you were overthinking everything as usual. 

Will knocked on the door and a beautiful woman with a toddler in her arms opened the door.

“Will! It’s so good to see you, it’s been too long,” she said, kissing his cheek before she turned to you.

“You must be the one Will’s been spending all his time with,” she said, stretching her hand out to you, “I’m Frankie’s wife, Anna.”

You shook her hand and introduced yourself. 

“Thank you for inviting me today,” you said, “We brought beer, is there somewhere you’d like me to put it?”

“Will knows where the beer fridge is, give it to him and I’ll bring you out back to meet the others,” she turned on her heel and something about her had you Will following her exact instructions without question. 

Will gave you a scratchy kiss in the cheek and a squeeze on the arm before he took the beer from your hand. You darted off behind Anna, barely keeping up as she balanced the toddler and a tray of vegetables through the house.

“Can I take the tray?” you offered and she thrust it into your hand.

“Thanks, honey,” she said, pulling open the door to the backyard and leading you through to where you could hear music playing and smell the barbecue cooking. 

The man behind the barbecue stepped away to meet you at the back door, “Frankie,” he said as he shook your hand and you introduced yourself. 

Frankie pulled you in the backyard and directed you to an open lawn chair, taking the tray from your hands. Sitting around an unlit fire pit were two very attractive men who you assumed must be Pope and Will’s brother Benny. 

Frankie introduced you to them and they both nodded as you took a seat. 

“It’s good to meet you, man,” Benny said and he passed you a beer from the cooler beside him.

“You too, Will talks about you a lot, but you’re not how I pictured you,” you said. 

“Better looking in person, huh?” Benny asked, confident. 

“Well Will’s told me how many fights you’ve lost recently, I thought you’d be uglier for sure, and definitely sporting some fucked up cauliflower ears,” you explained.

Pope and Frankie laughed and Benny let it roll off of him, “Didn't you hear him,” he said,” He says I’m hotter than he expected.”

That only made Pope and Frankie laugh harder and roll their eyes. 

Just then Will came out to the backyard and pulled up a chair next to you.

“I hope Benny isn’t giving you a hard time,” Will said.

“Actually, he’s putting Benny in his place,” Pope explained and winked at you.

You liked Will’s family very much. It wasn’t long until Frankie was laying out a huge stack of burgers on the table and you all dove in. Though of course you waited for Frankie to get his daughter Carmen sorted out first. But once she was settled out of harm's way, all bets were off at the buffet.

You spent most of the evening just listening to them all share stories and crack jokes. You poked fun at Will by telling them that he loves the live-action Beauty and the Beast movie, but you held back the part of how you saw him shed a tear near the end. That part was just for you. 

Frankie and Anna built a fire in the pit and as he set it alight, Frankie stepped back and said, “No cold-camping tonight, boys,” though he looked like he regretted his words. 

An icy chill fell over the group despite the heat from the new fire. You watched as the firelight danced across Will’s sad face. You reached out slowly and clasped Will’s hand in your own. 

Pope smiled when he saw you hold Will’s hand, and his smile set a chain reaction through the other guys who followed suit. Will turned to you when he smiled, his sad eyes full of love and gratitude. 

Benny was the only one who didn’t smile. Instead he rocked back in his chair, his arms tight across his chest. 

“You good, Benny?” Will asked, his voice soft but steady. 

Benny cleared his throat, “I’m going to refill the cooler.”

Benny stood and carried the cooler with him back into the house. 

Luckily Carmen breaks the silence by showing a picture she had been colouring to Pope. 

“Look!” she showed off her hard work by shoving it into Pope’s lap. 

Pope picked it up with a smile, “It’s beautiful!” he turned it around to show everyone else, “Isn’t this great?”

You and the others all clapped and Carmen beamed. When Pope tried to tuck the picture away in his coat, Carmen pulled it back with a, “Hey! You can’t keep that, I was just showing you!”

Everyone laughed and Benny returned and passed out the next round to everyone. 

You watched Will watch Benny and knew there was something going on you didn’t understand, and weren’t sure if you were supposed to say anything or not. 

“Where’s your bathroom?” you asked Maria and she gave you simple instructions so you excused yourself inside to collect your thoughts and empty your bladder. 

When you exited the bathroom, Will was leaning against the wall waiting for you. He pulled you into his embrace, one hand on your face, the other sneaking around to palm your ass. 

“I know you must have questions,” Will said. 

“We don’t have to talk about that now,” you said, “Today was about meeting your friends, and I gotta say, I really like them.”

You kissed Will quickly, but before you could pull away he deepened the kiss, pulling you close to him softly but purposefully. 

You heard the laughter from outside and broke the kiss with a sigh. 

“We should go back, I don’t want them to think I’m a bad influence,” you said, holding Will’s hand. 

“They already told me they like you,” Will said with his classic half smile. 

“Well good, because I -” you paused and took Will’s face in your hands, “I love you.”

Will smiled large, the lines around his eyes crinkled, “I love you too.”

Then you kissed him, softly at first, but building as he splayed his palm flat on your back and you pushed his back up against the wall, your hands on his waist. You felt his cock grow hard against your leg and you knew he could feel yours too. 

You jumped back when you heard the backdoor open, your face warm. Will kissed you soft on the cheek, his beard scratching against your own stubble, before he led you to the sound where you found Benny carrying Carmen by the ankles upside down. 

“This munchkin wants s’mores, so we’re on a supply run,” Benny explained as Carmen giggled hysterically. 

“You handle her, we’ll grab supplies,” you offered as you and Will followed Benny and the still laughing Carmen into the kitchen. 

As you gathered supplies Benny looked over to you, “I’ve got a fight next weekend out of town, you’re coming, right?”

Will stepped in before you could answer, “I hadn’t asked him yet.”

“Well I was inviting him, I like him better than you,” Benny said to Will. 

“I’ll be there!” you said, unable to contain your smile. 

Benny nodded and swung Carmen around as he made his way back outside. 

You turned to Will, “I guess that means I’m in?”

“For as long as you want to be here, want me, you’re welcome,” Will said sincerely. 

“Good, I love you, and I love your friends. I think I’ll stay,” you said, and you and Will carried the s'mores supplies outside and your heart felt more full tonight than it had ever felt before. 

[heartsywritesthethings]

Mammon pt. 1

Heartsy’s Notes: Babe. I love you so much. This is some good fucking food. I am amazed at how fast you got this done and so well too. Absolutely killing it! And I do so love Mammon.

“I don’t know why ya think that.” Mammon says with a scrunched up face. He’s laying across the couch on his back lazily, tossing a golden coin up and down and catching it in his hand without much effort. You watch him, curled up in a chair nearby with the fire of the House of Lamentation crackling softly in the background.

“I mean it,” You insist “I really think that you’re Lucifer’s favorite.”

“He’s mean to me all the time. He took Goldie!” Mammon says, looking like he was about to tear up over his beloved credit card.

“Why didn’t you just take it back?” you ask, really thinking about it. Really, why would Mammon just go against his brother and take his credit card back? Sure, Lucifer was older, but they seemed pretty evenly matched. 

“I can’t.” Mammon mumbled, his face turning a light shade of pink. 

“Why?” You ask, getting up out of your chair to get a closer look at Mammon’s face. It could have just been the firelight after all.

“He’s just…you know…Look, let’s stop talking about it. I got Goldie back and that’s that.” Mammon said, tossing his coin up again. He fails to catch it again and it hits the floor with a soft clatter. Mammon curses under his breath, shifting to try and grab it.

“Did something happen?” You ask, taking a step closer to him. Mammon is definitely blushing now and he quickly looks away.

“Nothing happened! Why are you asking? Help me look for my lucky coin!” Mammon says, turning away from you. You fold your arms across your chest. He’s definitely hiding something.

“You know, I could always make you tell me.” You say. Mammon’s head snaps around and he narrows his eyes at you.

“You wouldn’t” Mammon says.

“So there’s is something to tell! I knew it!” You say triumphantly. Mammon grumbles to himself. His ears are red now with how furious his blush is. 

“Just shut up, human. I need to find my–”

“Mammon, tell me why you’re so afraid of Lucifer.” You command. Because of your pact with Mammon, you can really make him do anything you say. Typically, you don’t like to abuse this power since you like to think that you and Mammon are friends. This time, however, you have to get to the bottom of this. Whatever dark secret Mammon is hiding, it’s something you want to know.

“You’re an ass,” Mammon says and you shrug a little bit to yourself. He’s not wrong.

<< You have unlocked Secret Memory 1 from Mammon >>

“Mammon–” Lucifer begins, one arm in the air with a bright golden credit card gleaming in the light. Mammon shoves Lucifer in the chest, but the Avatar of pride doesn’t even budge.

“Give her back! She needs me!” Mammon whines, trying to reach up to grab his precious credit card from his brother’s hand. While he wasn’t too much shorter than his older brother, Lucifer had ridiculously long arms. Lucifer just sighed, the bored look on his face never changing. 

“You are being ridiculous. You can not even pay back half of the bills you have stacked in your room. Why would I let you embarrass Diavolo even more by–” Lucifer tried again and Mammon growled.

“I’m not an embarrassment! I just–grrr—give it back!” Mammon continues, anger and annoyance written clear on his face. Lucifer just shakes his head.

“It is clear that simply talking to you will not help.” Lucifer looks up at the card in his hand. “Mammon, I will be confiscating this for the foreseeable future.”

Mammon seemed to freeze, staring up at his credit card. Dozens of terrifying scenarios flipped through his head. Lucifer boiling Goldie in oil, him throwing Goldie in the pits of hell, Goldie melting in the extreme heat of hell fire. A rumble rocked the House of Lamentation made Lucifer lose his cool composure.

Mammon’s wings sprouted from his back and his horns poked through his bright white hair. Lucifer’s arm lowered as he watched his younger brother fall into his demon form. Before the Avatar of Pride could begin to warn his brother about jumping to his demon form for trivial items, Mammon pounced. 

Mammon, Avatar of Greed, leaped into the air, using his wings to aid in his jump. He snatched Goldie from Lucifer’s manicured fingers, smacking him in the face with the tail while he was at it. Rather ungracefully, Mammon hit the ground, clutching Goldie close to his chest to keep her safe. 

“Are you alright? Are you hurt? I wouldn’t let him do anything bad to you, I’m so sorry…” Mammon said, giving the plastic card as many small kisses as he could. His brother, absolutely appalled by Mammon’s behavior, began transforming into his demon form himself. Mammon hardly noticed as the ground shook around him and his brother stalked closer to him. A bright red mark was beginning to form on Lucifer’s cheek where Mammon had struck him, making Lucifer seem all the more dangerous. 

“Mammon.” Lucifer said, his voice lowered with the amount of anger he was holding back. He placed a hand on Mammon’s shoulder firmly to keep him still. Mammon froze under Lucifer’s touch, just now realizing how much he fucked up.

“U-uh– AHHAHA” He began before Lucifer’s finger slid down Mammon’s back starting from the base of his neck down to his lower back. 

Mammon immediately fell to his knees, his eyes wide open. He remembered how ticklish he had been as a little demon child, but he didn’t think he still _was _this ticklish. Shakily, he looked over his shoulder at his brother.

Without any hesitation, Lucifer quickly pushed Mammon onto the ground and flat on his face. The Avatar of Pride straddled Mammon without much trouble at all. With Mammon immobilized on his stomach and on the ground, Lucifer began his work. 

“First, you will apologize to me for striking me in the face.” Lucifer said calmly, his wiggling fingers descending on Mammon’s exposed sides. Giggles immediately spilled from Mammon’s lips and his wings fluttered fruitlessly against his back.

“Wahahahahahait! Lucihihihi!” Mammon giggled, pressing his forehead against the cold floor. 

“You will apologize.” Lucifer repeated, digging his fingers in a little harder into his sides.

“Ahahahaha! You ahahahass!” Mammon continued, trying to wiggle away to no avail. 

“Mammon, you are in no position right now to call me such names.” Lucifer said. His wiggling fingers drifted up to Mammon’s ribs because if he remembered correctly…

“AhH! EEK! QuIT!” Mammon squeaked and a smile tugged the corner of Lucifer’s mouth. 

“You will be tickled until you apologize, Mammon. You cannot move and my next meeting with Diavolo is not for another few days.” Lucifer said calmly as Mammon jerked around under his softly pinching and tickling fingers. 

“Lucihihihifer! AH!"Mammon whined, his wings flapping desperately. Just the thought of being trapped under his brother’s tickly fingers for that long…he didn’t even want to imagine that. Maybe he could make Lucifer think that this tactic wasn’t going to work. After all, he was having fun as of right now. 

"I’ll–AH! AHA! I’ll never apologihihihize to you for hurting Goldie! Never!” Mammon managed defiantly.

Lucifer paused. Mammon gulped in air, his wings relaxing against his back after all of that flapping. It worked! Sure, he could have gone with maybe a couple more minutes of this, but…he remembered how demonic Lucifer could really be in regards to tickling.

“If you are to be this defiant, you really are giving me no choice.” Lucifer stated. Pulling a raven’s feather saved for an Akuzon purchase from his pocket, he considers his options for a moment. 

And that’s when all hell broke loose. While the feather was quite light, brushing it against the extremely ticklish skin between Mammon’s wings proved—

“AHHH! AHAHAHAHAHA! NO! NOT THEHEHEHEHERREE AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

–to work just as Lucifer had hoped.

Mammon bucked and screeched underneath Lucifer. His wings flapped wildly and his legs kicked out. Thoughts jumbled together in Mammon’s head, unable to string anything together. Lucifer placed a hand on his left wing to keep it from flapping as crazily, wiggling his finger against it as well.

“SORRY! SOAHAHAHAHAAHRRY! PLEHEHEASE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! STOP! LUCIHIHIHIHIHIH! NO!” Mammon screamed, his face red and tears of mirth leaving his eyes.

Lucifer’s smile could not be contained now. He remembered how his brother had stated that he loved to laugh and have fun and this was definitely something Lucifer could find fun. 

“Aren’t you having a good time, Mammon? Would you like for me to ask Beelzebub to help tickle you as well? Maybe Satan? I seem to remember Leviathan being very talented in tickling you as well,” Lucifer teased. Mammon shook his head, now laughing far too hard to even say words. 

This ticklish hell continued for only a couple more minutes before Lucifer finally stopped. Mammon was still laughing for a little while longer before he realized that not only had Lucifer stopped, but he had gotten off of him as well. Slowly, the Avatar of Greed pulled himself up to his feet, brushing himself off. Lucifer watched him, standing just a few feet away. After a moment, Mammon realized that Goldie was gone again. Apparently during his ticklish struggle, he had smacked it away from himself and Lucifer had gotten a hold of it. For a moment, Mammon wanted to get it back, but a blush found its way on his face and he stopped himself. 

His demon form disappeared and Mammon shuffled on his feet awkwardly. Finally, he turned away from his brother to leave.

“I am not finished with you yet.” Lucifer said and a shiver went down Mammon’s spine. Lucifer grabbed Mammon’s wrist and pulled him onto the couch.

“You will sit and listen.” Lucifer said, pointing to a place on the couch.

“But your lectures always take soooooo long,” Mammon whined without thinking. In a blink of an eye, Mammon was shoved onto the couch with his feet in an arm lock.

“Now, since you seem to have forgotten the rules of this house under Diavolo, I will recite them again–” Lucifer began, his fingernails dragging against the soles of Mammon’s feet. Mammon threw his head back and groaned, trying to stifle his giggles again. 

“And you will not interrupt me or I shall remind this entire house of your…particular weakness,” Lucifer said, and Mammon clamped a hand over his mouth to stop a squeal from leaving it as Lucifer scratched a particularly ticklish spot just underneath his big toes.

<< End of Secret Memory 1 with Mammon >>

“Awww!” You say as the memory fades. Mammon is as red as he had been in the memory.

“Shut up, human.” Mammon said, sliding a hand through his hair.

“Don’t say that or I may just tickle you~” You threaten, bringing your hands up and wiggling your fingers menacingly. Mammon takes a small step back and soon, you’re chasing the white-haired demon around the common room as he tries to escape your tickling fingers.

[nightashes]

Hi! Okay I wanted to send a prompt (but it's fine if you don't have the energy or anything like that to write it!) How about some fluffy logicality with "See I told you that I'd always be here for you"

When I’m with You, I Glow

a/n:  Thank you so much for the prompt! This was so fun to write! I hope the wait wasn’t too long. <3

summary: Victorian-ish era. Logan has some big news to tell his boyfriend, Patton. They take a walk in the evening and share their love.

warnings: none that I can think of but let me know if there is anything you’d like me to tag.

ao3 version - writing masterlist

Dusk is approaching. The warm tones of the sunset chase away the cool blues of the day. The streets are beginning to empty as Logan walks down the lane. His shoes hit the stones with a satisfying tap. Tap. Tap. He smiles at the sound. If he were a different person, he would be skipping. But Logan is a professional. He is content to simply listen to the heel of his shoes clicking against the pavement.

The lamplighter nods as he passes, working his way along the road, lighting each streetlamp one after another. The faint flames do not do much to illuminate but they do add to the romance of the dusk. Once true night sets in, they will be invaluable. Until then, they were at least pretty to look at. He feels a warmth in his heart at the thought. In the past, he would not have given a second thought to the aesthetic value of street lamps. But Patton, his beloved, his burning flame, has a way of finding the joy and the beauty in the simplest of things. He supposes that some of that optimism is beginning to rub off on him.

He hopes that Patton will want to walk with him. He does have something quite big to talk about with his beloved. And it would be nice to share the evening with him.

Approaching the apartment of his companion, he gives a quick one-two knock. Banging the knob of the knocker against the door with a pair of resounding thuds. The sound of hurried footsteps precedes the opening of the door and the arrival of his friend who was more than a friend could ever truly be. The grin of the man before him revivals the beauty of the sunset and the enchantment of the fire-lit street lamps. This is the fellow that has managed to steal Logan's breath away with each new meeting. This is the fellow that has managed to make Logan feel as if he wasn't just a scholar but a person of value. And Logan knows without a doubt his heart beats louder because of the man before him.

His professionalism melts away. It always does around Patton. How could one be stoic around a person that could exude the warmth of the sun with a simple laugh and a pat on the arm? The gentleman’s eyes twinkle with mirth. "Good even'n, Logan. How are you on this fine evening?"

"Hello, my dear," he smiles somewhat nervously. "I was just in the neighborhood and I was hoping that you would maybe join me on my walk," Logan requests. His fingers nervously playing with the chain of his pocket watch.

"Oh, now wouldn't that be lovely. Just let me grab my hat and I'll be right out." And with that Patton once again disappears into his apartment.

Logan stands on the step, straightening his tie, brushing dust from his jacket. Staring around him at the potted plants that stand beside the doorway. He checks his watch. Patton is taking longer than usual. 

“Patton!” He calls. Knocking his knuckles softly on the wood. “Have you found it yet?”

The door swings open to a beaming Patton… without a hat. “Shall we go?”

“But… Patton, your hat?”

“Hmmm?” The smiling gentleman questions, patting his head. “Oh, silly me. I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached.” He grabs it from the nearby coat hanger and hurries out the door, quickly locking it behind him. 

Turning around, Patton’s hand immediately finds his own. Interlacing their fingers together. It warms Logan’s heart. A gentle squeeze of the hands and a tender kiss, Logan whispers to his sweetheart, “I’ve missed you today.”

Patton’s laughter is sweet honey to his ears. “I’m here. I’ll always be right here for you.”

The worries of the day feel small in comparison. And though they still need to have a talk, he feels like he can handle it. With Patton he can handle anything. 

They walk down the lane. Patton swinging their hands, talking about his day. Pestering Logan with questions about his own. “Oh, don’t you just love the night air! Something about it just makes you feel so… alive!”

“It’s because the air is cooler. The molecules in the air slow down when it is colder, producing less smells and tricking us into thinking the air is more ‘crisp’ and ‘pure’ than it is in say the afternoon.”

He can feel Patton’s eyes on him as he speaks. He knows he is beginning to slip into his teacher mode again. But unlike his students, Patton stares at him as if mysteries of the universe were unfolding before him. Logan can feel the heat in his cheeks rise from the attention. He stutters to a stop. “At least that’s what I have read.”

Patton takes both of his hands in his, standing before him he whispers. “It’s amazing. Each day we spend together and yet you never run out of new things to teach me. Have I told you how much I love listening to you lecture.”

Logan smiles, but a thought continues to beat at the back of his mind. They still need to talk. “The park is near. Come along,” he attempts to steer them towards the entrance. 

Patton, though, Patton is not having it. He stands steadfast, his hands still gripping both of Logan’s. 

“You’ve got something on your mind.” Patton states simply.

“You’re right. I do have something on my mind. It’s you.” He leans in to place a kiss upon Patton’s brow. “You’re always on my mind.”

“Not ready to tell me?”

“No. It’s just big news. I was hoping we could discuss it sitting down.”

“Alright. The park it is. But you know whatever it is I’m here to support you.”

Logan nods in understanding. Wrapping his arm around his sweetheart, he steers them towards the park. The crickets are loud now. Their repetitive chirps fill the otherwise silent evening. The glow of the setting sun has lessened, but what remains paints the trees golden. It surrounds the couple in a warm glow as they move to a nearby bench. Settling down, they nestle into each other's side. LIke a pair of turtle doves taking shelter in a storm.

Logan fumbles with the chain of his watch once again. He knows Patton is waiting for the news. But, he is so patient. He simply leans his head against Logan’s shoulders and whispers to him about the trees. Asking Logan to explain how they grow so big from such small little seeds. 

He can’t hold it in anymore. “Something really big happened at work today.”

His beloved smiles up at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“After my class, I was approached by two men from Rivance. They wanted me to come and lecture at their school. It’s… It’s an opportunity few have been offered. They’re very selective and I would be foolish to turn it down. But it would mean leaving Nelaian, leaving my students, and well… I mean I wasn’t sure if you… If you would.”

“You wouldn’t want to leave me?” Patton finishes softly, his fingers tracing the lines in Logan’s hand.  

“It’s a long way and it would be unreasonable to expect you to come. But, I don’t want to be apart for so long.”

“Logan, I have a confession to make.” Patton looks up, staring intently into his eyes. Logan can feel his jaw clench and his heart stutter at that look. 

Patton withdraws a crinkled envelope from his pocket. Handing it over he continues, “you see, I was actually there at your lecture this morning. I had time before my shift and I was missing you. So I sat in for the tail end of it. I saw those men approach you. I knew all about it.”

Nothing is written on the envelope. Logan flips it around. Carefully, he removes the contents. Pulling out two pieces of paper. Two tickets. Boat tickets. To Rivance. 

“Two tickets. For me… and you?”

“See, I told you that I’d always be here for you. I’m coming with you and that’s final.”

“But, this is a whole other country. A whole other continent. To leave everything behind, just like that. For me. I can’t ask that of you.”

“You don’t need to ask. I’m with you until the end.”

“Patton, I… I don’t know what to say?”

“Say what you feel.”

“I’m happy. I’m so so very happy. And I.. I love you, my firelight.” 

“Well then kiss me, you dingus.”

The gold of the evening is beginning to fade now. A shadow has been cast over the scenery. But the fire of the streetlamps glows brighter in the dark.

awesome people to tag: @stop-it-anxiety @hexatrash @ollyollyoxinfree @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @leiasolo77 @arya-skywalker

[i-dream-of-twilight-sparkle]

Chapter 26 - Starlight’s Mother, Part 2 - Why Did Firelight Keep Her A Secret?

*THUNDER BOOM*

The storm rages on, and may be even picking up further intensity. But the group outside is absolutely affixed on the sight of Starlight’s Mother. Many with their mouth agape and concerned faces, especially after she had just mentioned that she had been murdered. Talking with her is going to be perhaps one of the darkest, and most serious conversations they’ve ever been in or listened to.

Firelight’s loud scream has attracted the attention of Sunburst and his Mom, they run up while both are holding umbrellas with their magic to see what’s going on and are immediately affixed on the sight of the glowing spirit. Stellar Flare actually somewhat recognizes her, though she didn’t know that she was Starlight’s Mother.

Sunburst: Just what is going on here?!

Stellar Flare: (I… feel like I’ve seen her before… do I know her?)

*THUNDER BOOM*

Twilight: I… think it’s about time we head into Firelight’s house for shelter against the storm… then we can start talking to Sunset about… well… a lot of stuff, to be frank…

The group now joined by Sunburst and Stellar Flare head into Firelight’s house, the only one not coming in quite yet… is Firelight himself… who is still too upset about learning that his wife has been dead. He eventually does just manage to slowly pick himself up and walk into his house along with the rest.

Starlight lights the fireplace to heat up the room and help dry everypony who got soaked in the storm, as everypony shakes off the water in their manes and tails. Sunset sits in the center of the room, naturally as she’s going to be answering a lot of questions. Everypony starts to settles down, except for Firelight who still can’t help himself from being upset about the fate of his beloved wife he weeps in the corner of the room constantly as the rest of the group prepares to speak with Sunset. Starlight then gets to asking Twilight what she knows.

Starlight: Twilight, you somehow knew my mother’s name as soon as you saw her… mind telling me how?

Twilight: Of course, your mother is none other then Sunset Shimmer… Celestia’s protege before me. Celestia told me all about her for the first time after a private talk with her and Luna when I was gathering invitees to the ball.

Starlight: WHAT?! Celestia had a protege before you… and she was my mother?!

Starlight turns to the spirit of Sunset

Starlight: Is… is this true… mother?

Sunset simply nods, and Starlight finally has the epiphany she’s been waiting for her whole life.

Starlight: Oh my gosh… that’s why… that’s why I’ve had so much raw magical power! My mother happens to be the only other pony’s whom’s magic power has captured Celestia’s attention! But wait… if you’re dead... were you killed in a battle with a foe while on the job... and thus Celestia had to unfortunately find a new student?

Sunset: You’re half right… I was killed in a battle… though if it were while I was still her student, there certainly would of been a very publicized funeral... But I had actually stepped down a decent while before then… so I could eventually live with your father and raise you… When I went up to the soul shield… I was so upset that I was never going to get that chance…

Sunset starts tearing up, looks like spirits can cry too. Though a spirit’s tears is more like little sparkles that simply fade once they hit the ground.

Starlight: Mother… you stepped down from a pretty secure role… where you could of possibly became a Princess of Equestria… just so you could raise a family…? Just so you could raise… me…?

Sunset nods once again

Sunset: Most of my life, I relished my role as Celestia’s protege. I felt like I was the coolest pony around in my teenage years… taking down the bad guys… being sent on missions on behalf of the Princess… the kind of spells I was able to perform… and even the possibility of eventually reaching a major position of power one day. I loved being Equestria’s premier hero so much, I started collecting a sort of information database on all the most wanted villains to get an edge on all of them. Reading up about past ones that had a danger of coming back, ones that were on the loose at the time, and any potential new threats in the future.

But… as I got older… keeping an eye on so many criminals and evildoers also put a target on my back… it was hard to make many meaningful friends when getting too close to me would only put them in danger. And as I reached adulthood, I felt a want to escape from it all, relax, and raise a family. I met your father sometime late in my teenage years, it was generally alright to go see him because Sire’s Hollow… at least at the time… was a pretty obscure place.

We got married not too long after I became 21 years old, and… when I was pregnant with you a few years later, Starlight… it finally came time to inform Celestia I wanted to step down. Continuing to be Celestia’s protege would of just simply endangered you and your father’s life.

But… once I had given birth to you… I know there was still one more danger I had to deal with before I could retire once and for all.. a family of 3 anarchists… who were threatening to steal the magic from Equestria for themselves or even get rid of all magic if the former wasn’t possible… so once my body mostly recovered from giving live birth in the very house we’re in right now… I set out within 2 weeks… and I’m not even sure I lived to see a 3rd week…

Starlight: So… you’ve really been dead for just about the whole time you were missing…

Firelight just breaks down

Firelight: Why… why did this have to happen…?! We were so close… to just having time for ourselves! *sniff*

Sunset: I’m so sorry, Fi-Fi! I didn’t think I was going to die! I got too overconfident that this last job wasn’t going to be that dangerous… the three anarchists I fought weren’t like a particularly strong entity… they were just a family of ponies…

Starlight: Can you recall their names?

Sunset: …I’ve been trying… but… for some reason I’m drawing a blank… to be frank, I can’t even recall how I died at the moment…

The entire group inside gasps

Starlight: What?! I would think the moment of death, and especially the names of murderers would be like… the one thing every spirit remembers most vividly!

Sunset: I don’t quite get it either… but I think at the very least it’s possible for something to jog my memory… all I can remember right now is that while I died myself… I believe 2 of the 3 anarchists I was chasing went down with me. I’m also drawing a blank on what happened to the 3rd, but if nothing else it looks like despite dying in the process. I was generally successful in my mission of making sure they weren’t able to do anything. Otherwise Equestria would be a magicless hellscape right now… that at least gives me some relief…

Starlight: How come no bodies were ever recovered? Of either you or the anarchists you were fighting that died too?

Sunset: I think where I confronted them, it was a pretty abandoned or at least a very low populated area… and if there’s one thing I feel like I can just vaguely recall about my death… I have this sense that I was falling at one point… off a cliff near an ocean… it’s possible that our bodies just ended up in the ocean… and hungry water predators like sharks picked off any remaining trace of me and the anarchists that died…

Starlight: Well… I guess if that’s all we’re going to get about your death until something jogs your memory… perhaps we should continue talking about back when you were alive. I’ll repeat that you were Celestia’s student… and you gave that away to raise me… that’s… a lot to take in…

Firelight looks at Starlight, and finally starts confessing why he’s kept quiet for so long about her mother.

Firelight: *sniff* The fact she was Celestia’s student… was why I was so adamant about not telling you who was your mother… *sniff* *sob* Do you remember that spell book of advanced magic that was the catalyst for your magic freakout that got you your cutie mark?

Starlight: Yes?

Firelight: That was your mother’s spell book…

Starlight gasps

Firelight: Because my wife led such a dangerous life… I thought you gaining your cutie mark through her spellbook meant you were destined to follow in your mother’s footsteps to become Celestia’s student… but I didn’t want you to go down that path… if you had known who your mother was, and especially after getting your cutie mark… you might of went straight to Canterlot to claim yourself as Celestia’s Student through a sense of birthright…

I had dealt with enough drama from this while I was with your mother… I pleaded several times during our relationship that she step down… and when she finally did… I felt like we were going to be free at last… *sniff* but then she went missing, and as we know now… she died… *sob* but I held onto vain hope for years that she was still alive and would some day come back… *sniff*

But the longer she never came back… the more it convinced me that I shouldn’t tell you. For fear… that… you’d disappear too… *sniff*

More tears stream down from Firelight’s eyes

Starlight: Father… So… you never told me who she was… to protect me?

Firelight nods while still tearing up. Starlight lowers her head, regretting at least some of the treatment she’s given him for never telling her about her mother.

Starlight: Oh gosh… I take back everything I ever said to you when I yelled at you about her… you probably would of been right that I’d go down that path because I would of immediately wanted to go to Celestia’s school for Gifted Unicorns back then... Sunburst did, I would of certainly made it too… and if I had known Sunset was my mother… I might of also been compelled to take her place… and might of even challenged Twilight to a duel for the position at some point…

I suppose you still made some mistakes by this resulting in my deep hatred for Cutie Marks being driven deeper… because if I had gone to the school I would of been able to reunite with Sunburst… perhaps I could of come around on Cutie Marks…

But… ultimately, you were just being a protective father... You didn’t want to see me get hurt, or go missing like Mom did… I wish at the very least you could of hired maybe a babysitter to keep me company rather then making me spend my entire childhood stewing about cutie marks, never having a mother figure, and more… but I now understand your motivation for hiding her name from me at last… cause there would of bound to have been records somewhere of who she was that I would of found, and how instantly compelled I might of been to go down a path you were afraid of…

Starlight tears up

Starlight: I’m so sorry… I understand now… you’re not such a bad father after all…

Starlight walks up to her father to hug him. After being so upset since finding out of his wife’s fate, he finally gets a little bit of happiness in at least somewhat reconciling with his daughter. The rest of the group giving d’awwws and/or crying joyous tears.

After letting go, Starlight decides to ask a question that’s now very possible to get an answer from both her parents.

Starlight: Is it alright… if I may ask what the day of my birth was like?

Sunset smiles

Sunset: One of the greatest days of my life… it was quite painful at first, of course… Sire’s Hollow unfortunately didn’t have a true hospital, at least at the time, and my water had broke far too early for me to get to a hospital without you likely being born while on the way there. Luckily, your father had some medical knowledge and was able to get me through. 

I eventually saw you as an adorable pinkish purple foal with a darker purple mane and tail with light blue highlights... couldn’t help but notice just how much of your father’s genes got passed down to you appearance-wise... and at the same moment I got to see you with my own eyes for the first time... I briefly looked out the window and noticed how pretty the stars outside at night were, I couldn’t help but have been inspired by the sky to give you your first name...

Firelight: And I had talked with your mother beforehand about how fun it’d be for our foal to have a last name to rhyme with hers, if we had a daughter

Sunset: And thus, you… Starlight Glimmer… was born.

Fluttershy: That’s so cute…

The group takes a moment to smile about the nice story about the day Starlight was born as a brief breather from the rather serious subjects that have come out from meeting Sunset. Though Twilight asks a rather important question.

Twilight: I don’t mean to bring seriousness back just as we talked about Starlight’s birth. But Firelight, when it seemed like Sunset was missing for a while… did you even try to spread the word for a search?

Firelight raises a hoof about to speak, but then Sunset answers for him

Sunset: I told him not to before I left, Princess Celestia must of told you I wanted out of the spotlight as much as possible once I had stepped down, right? A national search for me would of made that harder, plus Fi-Fi didn’t know I had died not even more than an hour ago. 

Firelight: Yes... right to the end, even if at some point it become more so about preferring to be blissfully unaware what had happened to her… I wanted to respect what she told me to do before she disappeared...

Twilight: Ah, alright… speaking of Princess Celestia though. I actually wonder if I should bring her real quick... I bet she’d love to see you again, Sunset. Would you be alright with that?

Sunset nods

Sunset: Go on ahead, Twilight. I’d absolutely love to see her again as well. It’s probably important she finds out what happened to me, anyway.

Twilight: Alright… I’ll be back with the Princess. Hang tight while I get her...

((Story continues after the break))

Twilight pulls out another piece of portal gum back to the Saddle Arabia palace. And eventually finds Celestia in the halls, and immediately gallops up close

Twilight: Princess Celestia! I have something urgent to tell you...

Celestia: *gasp* Twilight... What is it? Are any ponies in danger?

Twilight: No, nothing like that… but rather a mixture of good news and bad news…

Celestia: What’s the good news?

Twilight: We found Sunset Shimmer...

Celestia goes wide-eyed and smiles

Celestia: That’s fantastic news! So she is still ali…

Twilight: I’m afraid I’m going to have cut you off there, because unfortunately… we found her via spirit summoning… Sunset Shimmer… happened to also be Starlight’s missing mother... And she died shortly after she disappeared...

Celestia’s heart sinks, her hopes dashed of her previous protege being ok almost immediately. Celestia’s cranes her neck lower, her eyes immediately welling up in tears.

Celestia: No… I should of known… I feared this was the case a while ago…even if she wanted to get out of the spotlight… I know it’d be hard for her to avoid everypony that might recognize her… For somepony to be missing for that long without being noticed… it was never a good sign…

And… Starlight Glimmer… was her daughter the whole time…?

Twilight nods

Celestia: It’s… no wonder then she had such raw power, when I had never even heard of her before you met her… Twilight, please let me have a moment of silence and grief for my departed former protege…

Twilight nods to let Celestia have a brief moment to her own thoughts, knowing now how special Sunset was to her. Celestia just sits down for a moment to grieve, even with Spirit summoning possible. It’s nonetheless upsetting to hear somepony died, especially somepony who was only about in her mid-20’s and also somepony Celestia was quite proud of. But soon she stands back up, flares her majestic wings, and she gives Twilight a determined face.

Celestia: I must go see Sunset again... Please, take me wherever her spirit was summoned…

Twilight nods, walking back to the portal she left back into Firelight’s house. Soon Twilight has returned with Princess Celestia. Celestia looks around the room seeing the other Elements of Harmony, the Cutie Mark Crusaders, Starlight Glimmer and her father, as well as Sunburst and Stellar Flare. Until she finally sees Sunset’s spirit. She approaches Sunset with a solemn look on her face.

Celestia: Sunset… I am… deeply saddened to learn you died a long time ago… were… you killed amidst a battle with the anarchists you were chasing after…?

Sunset: Yes, Princess… I was killed while fighting them most likely. I’m still trying to jog my memory on the exact circumstances of my death. I’m even having a hard time recalling the names of them. But I should also say, that one of the vague details I can share is 2 out of the 3 also died, though who or what happened to the 3rd is still something I need to recall. So my death wasn’t entirely in vain, I imagine I did just enough to stop them from whatever they planned to do. Since it seems like Equestria was fine in between my death and Twilight became your new student.

Celestia: It’s still so awful to see it came at a terrible price… I hoped you had simply succeeded and you were living the peaceful family life you wanted… it’s a shame you may have never gotten it...

Sunset: I wouldn’t say I didn’t get it at all… while I was pregnant with Starlight I kinda had to sideline myself once it kind of became risky to move too far. So at least for a short while, I got to experience a more normal life… even if of course that was cut short not long after Starlight is born… I guess from the perspective of that I really wanted to be a mother… then yes, I never really got to have all I wanted to do…

Sunset turns to Starlight

Sunset: I really wish I had gotten to be there for you during your childhood. If I had survived my battle with the anarchists, I fully planned on being there for you everyday for when Fi-Fi was at work.

Starlight slightly tears up and smiles

Starlight: I’m happy to hear that, mother… that would of made such a difference on my life...

Firelight: A little late I know, Starlight… but I thought I may as well also give the reason I never hired a babysitter... I had of course been still holding onto hope that your mother was still alive the whole time… I also feared that if she was still around like I optimistically thought… especially when it became years that she was missing… that your mother would of been heartbroken after she might of thought I moved on and married somepony else if she were indeed still alive and came back to the house only to find another mare taking care of you...

Starlight: I guess that’s an understandable reason, there are such thing as babysitters who are stallions that might of been able to avert that, but just not nearly as common as mares. Though if I may slightly change the subject to a more lighthearted note, I notice my mother keep calling you Fi-Fi. Is that just a cute nickname she came up with?

Sunset tilts her head and smiles

Sunset: Pretty much. Your father liked to call me Shimmy, and I wanted to have my own nickname for him. And we settled on Fi-Fi.

Starlight: *giggles* I guess my father has always liked nicknames. He’s called me Pumky-wumpkins or Sugarplum for as about as long as I can remember. Though they don’t seem to be quite as name related as your nicknames for each other

Sunset laughs, and looks at Starlight with a smug face.

Sunset: Hahahaha! Was it really? I’m pretty sure both of those were in potential REAL names he proposed before you were born. You were lucky I vetoed both of them, ehehehehe!

Firelight sheepishly smiles, Starlight just cringes.

Starlight: ….Yeeeeeeah I can’t imagine what it’d be like if Pumky-Wumpkins was actually my name… Sugarplum may have it at least made some sense given my mane is mostly purple. But I still like what actually became my name so much more.

Celestia smiles at the lighthearted conversation

Celestia: That makes me a little happier that you indeed got to have such cherished family moments like picking a name for your foal. I can’t help but feel regretful however... in order to honor your years of service and to make sure you last mission went smoothly, I should have accompanied you... There’s no way those three would of stood a chance against us both.

Sunset: Perhaps, but… these 3 weren’t some superpowered villains. For the most part I’m pretty sure they were average ponies, maybe I can vaguely recall one of them being a decent unicorn but otherwise in a 1-on-1 duel, I would of wiped the floor with them. I faced tougher odds plenty of times. I didn’t think I would of needed the help, guess a little overconfidence was my downfall.

Celestia: I guess so, sadly… at least I got to meet your lovely daughter that was within you as you stepped down…

Sunset goes wide-eyed surprised Celestia knew she was pregnant then

Sunset: You knew I was pregnant then?! That was still pretty early in my pregnancy…

Celestia: I noticed you were nervously rubbing your belly during our last conversation. Maybe at first I thought you just had a full meal. But given you talked to me so much about wanting to raise a family, I sort of put the pieces together.

And I felt it probably would be a better life for your foal for you to take care of it, you took care of Equestria for most of your life. I knew you’d likely raise a good child, and before I found Twilight first... I was thinking of maybe waiting for your child to be old enough to go to my school...

Starlight gasps

Starlight: Wait, you considered to have me as your next student?!

Celestia: That was my plan at first during the period between Sunset stepping down when I met Twilight. This was before I had that dream after bringing Spike’s egg to Equestria, Twilight became Plan A after she hatched Spike. But if that had fallen through in any number of ways, or if I couldn’t quite find a student to hatch the egg quick enough if Twilight failed to hatch it too. I would of gone out to search for you myself, and hope to convince Sunset to let you try to hatch the egg instead. There’s no guarantee that you would of been able to hatch it, but it’s very possible had Sunset lived and Twilight hadn’t become my student. Starlight would be in Twilight’s position right now.

Starlight: Dang… So I could of been the ruler of Equestria in a year right now if the right chips fell…

Starlight sits down while lowering her head thinking of what could have been. Twilight notices Starlight’s reaction to hearing this, ponders for a moment, and then give her a gracious offer.

Twilight: You know Starlight… I could always make you my student again… if… if… you kind of want to give ruling Equestria a shot. I’d still have a lot to teach you about doing so. But I wouldn’t mind having a co-ruler at some point. As I have thought about the strain of moving both the sun and the moon every day.

Starlight perks up at Twilight’s offer. She feels like she may have some slight interest after learning she’s the daughter of somepony else who could have very well succeeded to the throne, but with mysteries still surrounding yet to be answered about her mother. She decides not to make a complete decision just yet.

Starlight: I’ll… have to think about that. It’s already a huge enough honor that I’ll be succeeding you as Principal of the School of Friendship. I’d… be kind of scared a precedent would be set that every Principal of that School becomes a ruler of Equestria if I ended up co-ruling with you *giggles* But… if I have an answer… I’ll go and see you…

Meanwhile, Sunset is surprised but also kind of proud hearing that her daughter had been a student of a Princess too.

Sunset: You were Twilight’s student at one point? I see that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. We were both students of Princesses! How did it end for you?

Starlight: I just had a graduation ceremony after Twilight had decided I had learned enough about friendship, and I was left to do what I wanted for a little while. I don’t think Twilight putting me under her wing originally was intent on making me Princess one day. More so that I learn the values of Friendship personally from her.

Though after I sort of graduated, I would later get employed again under Twilight when she started the School of Friendship, when I decided to become the school’s counselor. Kinda funny… at some point I became so dedicated to counseling I would have an alert for whenever a student knocked at my door. To the annoyance of my friend, Trixie. Mom, when you said that you were dedicated to keeping track of criminals even at the expense of having anything resemble a normal life. I realized that may have been another trait I inherited from you…

Sunset: Certainly sounds like it, doesn’t it? Hope you didn’t get all of my rather flawed traits, I… did kind of have a temper back in the day.

Starlight sheepishly smiles remembering all the time she’s expressed rage whether it was before she was reformed, when she had to bottle up anger at Trixie, when she most recently yelled at her father, etc.

Starlight: Er… I kinda have that too…

Starlight sheepishly smiles

Sunset: Oh well… at least that means we can sympathize with each other!

Celestia smiles hearing the conversation and decides to ask Sunset for a favor.

Celestia: This has been a nice conversation with you and your daughter. But may I ask you for something?

Sunset: What is it, Princess?

Celestia: I’d like... to give you a hug real quick, or at least… I hope the cosmos counted us as close enough to do so.

Sunset smiles

Sunset: Of course, Princess. I’d love that. And we better count, or else some how some way... I’m gonna get somepony to file a lawsuit against the Grim Reaper!

The whole room giggles thinking about a lawsuit against death itself. But Celestia and Sunset approach eachother close, Celestia puts a hoof around the back of Sunset’s neck, lowers her head and smiles.

The hug is successful. Sunset hugs back a little by wrapping a hoof behind one of Celestia’s tall, slim front hooves.

Pinkie: *giggles* The Reaper doesn’t have to worry about a lawsuit now!

Starlight: Hey! How about a hug for me too, Mom!

Firelight: Me three, Shimmy!

Sunset: Of course, Starlight and Fi-Fi!

Sunset and Celestia let go of each other so Sunset can proceed to have a small group hug with her family that lasts a good while. When they break off the hug, Sunset goes a little extra and surprises Firelight with a kiss.

Firelight: Even as a spirit, your kisses are the best, Shimmy…

The rest of the group just has been d’awwing all over the place for the heartwarming moment. Though as much as the ponies were enjoying these happy moments, there were still mysteries about Sunset left to uncover.

Twilight: I don’t wish to ruin the moment, but I feel like we should soon get some sort of lead so we can help Sunset uncover more of what happened. I don’t want to leave without uncovering who was responsible for Sunset’s death or at least get to finding some clues.

Sunset and Starlight nod, and Stellar Flare suddenly walks up to the front.

Stellar Flare: I… might have something… because… I think somehow I know you, Sunset… but I can’t place my hoof on why…

Sunset takes a look at Stellar and gives a surprised look. She’s been focused too much on talking with her family for the first time ever since she died, talking with her daughter for the first time in particular, and then also reuniting with Celestia to notice any others in the room she recognized

Sunset: I think I know you too! Weren’t you… my older brother’s wife?

Stellar Flare goes wide-eyed

Stellar Flare: YOU’RE Sunspot’s younger sister?!

Starlight, Trixie, and Sunburst give heavy gasps. Being Starlight’s mother wasn’t the only mystery found out about Sunset today. And it looks like there is still plenty more to go.

UP NEXT: Chapter 27: Starlight’s Mother, Part 3 - Where Did She Die?

[sailorshadzter]

at your side i’ll always be.

A knock comes later. Much later.

She's dressed for bed, a white nightgown, her fur robe thrown over her shoulders, hair a single plait down her back. When the knock sounds, she looks up from where she sits in the window seat, head pressed against the frosted plane of glass. Outside, snow drifts down, covering the ashes of battle, as if to say it had never even happened. But they would not forget. No one could ever forget.

"Come in," she calls out, softly, turning back to look out the window, thinking it only to be Brienne come to check in on her, for her lady knight had yet to return from the celebration feast. She hopes, with the flicker of a smile, that Brienne might not come at all, perhaps finding herself a little bit of happiness she deserved. But those footsteps do not belong to Brienne and when Sansa looks up, she already knows it's him standing there. "Jon..."

He's drunk and he knows it.

Perhaps it was wrong of him to come to her rooms like this, but when Daenerys had fled from his rooms... Seeing Sansa was the only thing that could calm the racing of his heart. Hearing her voice was the only thing that could return the peace to his mind. "I'm sorry," he begins, chuckling in spite of himself, hand up to awkwardly run through his unruly curls. "For coming here like this." She's soft and still in the window, surrounded by the moonlight, a vision in white and fur, looking up at him with those blue eyes of hers. Eyes he can lose himself in, eyes he could drown in, willingly drown in. "I had to see you." Alcohol has given him courage and he thinks back to her down at the feast, smiling in the golden firelight. I believe in you, she had said to him then, words that filled him with warmth. "I wanted to make sure you were alright... You left the feast so suddenly..."

"I'm fine," she says, shoulders lifting in a shrug. That's not true, she thinks, wondering just when it became so easy to lie. "I was tired." If Jon wonders why she's still awake then, so many hours later, he doesn't ask. Instead, he approaches her where she sits, dressed in just his breeches and white shirt, stumbling ever so slightly. He's drunk, she realizes, unable to help but to smile as he sinks into the small space available on the window seat, pushing a pillow to the floor to give himself a bit more room. "I am surprised you're not asleep yourself," she chuckles, though she sobers when something dark crosses his face. "Jon...?"

He's staring, transfixed by the sight of her; the softness of her smile, the way moonlight entwines in her vibrant red tresses. If he could, he would stay right there, in this moment, forevermore. "I couldn't sleep," he answers, not really a life, but also not really the truth. He sees her hands, tucked over her knees, and it's all he can do to keep himself for reaching for her.

"Me either," she admits after a beat of silence, a wane smile appearing upon her lips. When she sleeps, she dreams, and dreaming is one of the last things she wants to do. Even now she finds herself tormented by the wails of the dying, the sick sound of flesh tearing from bone enough to turn her stomach.

"I sent you down there... To be kept safe." He murmurs, taking her hand into his, emotion filling him up, threatening to spill over. "I'm sorry, Sansa." She grips his hand back, tears welling in her eyes, making them shine like gems. Before he can say another word, it's her that's reaching out, drawing him into her. She holds him close, her embrace warm and gentle, her chin tucked into place against the top of his head. When the tears come, she says nothing but sweet whispers of comfort, though her own tears drip down her face. He doesn't know how long they sit there together, a tangle of limbs, his head pressing into her chest, her heartbeat a tattoo against his cheek. But finally, he finds the courage to raise himself from her, peering into her face that wears a look he's never seen before. A look of love, of such tenderness that he can barely breathe. "I thought you to be angry with me."

"I was," she admits, head tilting, a stray strand of red hair falling across her forehead. "But we have to trust each other, don't we? We have so many enemies..." He recognizes the words she speaks, words he himself had spoken to her only some months ago. A smile finds its way onto his lips and he nods. "I trust you, Jon, I trust you to do what's right for our family."

That's when he remembers.

The words he's wanted to tell her, the truth he should have given to her before the fight. But words he didn't know quite how to say. "Sansa, I... There's something I must tell you." The words he should have told her the night before stepping into battle, words he swore he would tell her if he came back. And he did come back, against all odds, he came back. "I'm not a Stark, Sansa." She opens her mouth, her usual protest, but he shakes his head. "My father... My father was Rhaegar Targaryen."

It's a whirlwind of emotions that rush though her- shock mixes with what she can only call relief, yet, there is pity, too... Pity for the man who all his life has longed to be a true born son of Ned Stark, but only to find he is not even the bastard of the man. "Jon..."

"My mother was your aunt Lyanna," he breaks in before she can say anything more, his gaze straying from her as he shifts away, as if he cannot stand to face her in this moment. "That is why your father took me in." It was true, it was said that there was nothing the Stark brothers would not have done for their beloved sister, Lyanna, who was said to have been kidnapped and raped by the Targaryen prince. "They were in love." His words are like a whisper and yet they snap her from her thoughts like a shout. "They were married."

She leans forward, hand to his arm, guiding him back to face her. "Jon, if that's true..." She can't believe the words that he's speaking to her. "Then it's you, not Daenerys that's the heir to the Iron Throne." He gives a single nod and Sansa swallows, reaching for him again, though this time his arms wind around her and he's the one drawing her in. "It doesn't change anything, you know," she's whispering a few moments later, her voice somewhat muffled from how her mouth is pressed against the crook of his shoulder. One of his hands is trailing her spine, though he finds he longs to undo her braid and run his fingers through her fiery locks. "You're still Jon... And you're still a Stark." She's smiling when she draws back, a hand reaching out to tenderly touch the bruise on his temple, head tilting as she gazes into his eyes. He's leaning in then, closer than they've perhaps ever been, her heart skipping a beat as his other hand falls into place against her cheek.

"There's something else..." He whispers, closer still, her lips a soft brush against his as he speaks on. "I love you." Those three words, settled upon his heart all this time, words that have both disgusted and delighted him. Love for a sister, half or not, was detestable. It was wrong, it was unfathomable... And yet... It had filled him with warmth, with peace. Being with Sansa... It gave his life a sense of direction, new meaning for a life that had once felt pointless. Once, he had been lost, but Sansa had found him that day in Castle Black and it was as if there was light again in his dark world of rebirth. But she's staring back at him, wide eyed in the moonlight, looking as if she doesn't dare believe what he's said. As if it's too good to be true.

And so he leans in, kissing her as he should have done weeks ago, months ago.

When Jon kisses her, the world stops spinning; but when it begins again, she finds herself kissing him back, warmth igniting in her belly that spreads through her every limb. In her chest, her heart beats wildly, a flutter of excitement racing her spine as Jon's hand slides into her hair. It's a moment she's wished for, a moment she's longed for, despite the distance between them. She knows what people would say if they knew the depth of her feelings for Jon... But he had saved her... in more ways than one. It was Jon that gave her the will to fight on, it was Jon that gave her something to believe in. He was the light guiding her through the darkness of her nights, a comforting hand to steady her whenever she was about to fall.

She breaks the kiss only so she may tip her forehead against his, a smile tugging at her lips.

"I love you, too."

[ x x x ]

Later still, when dawn threatens to creep over the horizon, Jon rolls over so he may face her where she lays in bed, smiling faintly when she opens her eyes. "It cannot be morning so soon," she groans, shifting as she lay there beneath the furs, content to stay there at least another hour or two.

"But it is," Jon chuckles, leaning over her so he might press a kiss to her temple, still marveling at his place in her bed beside her. "I should go..." He says quietly, though he too is loathe to leave her bed, especially when beneath the furs she slides a hand across his abdomen, the warm touch of her skin stirring him as it had done dozens of times the night before. "Or... Maybe I'll stay."

It isn't until the sun is high in the morning sky that Jon finally finds the will to untangle himself from her, knowing they would soon be discovered if they did not part ways. Besides, there was a war meeting to attend and so he climbs from the warmth of her arms and bed to find his breeches. "You will tell the others, won't you?" She asks as he tugs his breeches back on, bending down to retrieve his shirt and her nightgown from the floor. "They deserve to know, too, Jon... Especially..." She doesn't finish, but he knows what she means. He watches as she slides from beneath the covers on the bed, red hair falling down her back, pulled loose hours ago from that braid she'd tied it into. The moment she's pulled her nightgown back on, he's there, slipping his arms around her, drawing her in, breathing her in.

"Aye, I'll tell them," he murmurs against her hair, knowing it was only Arya that needed to know, for Bran was the one to learn of the truth, only after speaking with Sam. "Later today, after the war meeting." He draws back and she nods, feeling cold without him when he steps back, heading for the door. "I'll see you down there," he says with a grin and then he's gone.

[ x x x ]

She dreams of a dragon's screech, of the heat of fire, the stench of death.

It leaves her filled with fear like she's never known before. "Don't go," she whispers to him that night, when he's to leave the next day. "I'm afraid for you." Jon only smiles, touching her cheek before he leans in, kissing her as he's done as often as possible in the three days since the night of the feast. "Jon, please."

"I have to go," he finally says, brushing back a stray lock of her hair, though he wishes it were not so. If he could, he would never again part from her side. "You know what I have to do." He reaches for her  hand and draws it to his mouth, tenderly kissing her palm. "I'll come back to you, Sansa, I promise." He raises his gaze back to hers and despite the tears that gather in her eyes, she's smiling.

She believed in him and so she would have to let him go.

[ x x x ]

When she steps onto the platform in the dragonpit, her gaze is sharper than any sword, falling upon any man there who dared speak against Jon. There was no mistaking it, the Lady of Winterfell would go to war with any one of the seven kingdoms, just to ensure the safety of Jon Snow. And truth be told, there was not many there who thought it smart to start a war with the she wolf of Winterfell.

In the end, she gets as she wishes, and Jon is brought to where she stands alone in the broken throne room of the Red Keep.

"Sansa...?"

She turns at the sound of his voice, tears filling her eyes as she lays eyes upon him for the first time in several weeks. "Jon!" She races forward, throwing her arms around him; his arms come around her and he sweeps her off her feet, relishing in the warm weight of her body. "Are you alright? Have they hurt you?" She's drawing back, her gentle hands combing him for injury, pausing as she finds the wounds from the shackles he had worn at his wrists.

"I'm alright," he says, his voice bringing her attention back to his face. "I... I don't understand. How are you here?" He is a man she does not know- in tattered clothes, with a darkness to him she's never seen before. This is a man that has seen new horrors that Sansa cannot begin to imagine. Arya had worn a similar look when she found her in King's Landing only the morning before; the look frightened her.

"I came to rescue you, of course." She says after a moment, offering him a smile; it isn't until he  sees it that he realizes just how much he's missed seeing it. For a moment he must pull her close again, holding onto her as if he believes she might vanish at any moment. For all these long weeks, the mere thought of her has kept him going, despite his belief he would never have saw her again. In truth, he was able to live with that, just knowing she was safe from harm. There was no one left in the world who would dare mess with Sansa Stark or Winterfell again. And so... He would have gone to the wall or to his death, if that was what fate had in store for him, because she was safe and in the end, that was what mattered most to him. But it seemed fate had another future in mind for him, though he supposes Sansa had a strange ability to twist her future into something better, into an outcome that was better than the current.

When he draws back, her cheeks are full of warmth and color, giving her a radiant sort of look he's never seen before. "But..." He shakes his head, disbelief still yet clinging to him. "You came all this way... You came to King's Landing?" She once swore she would never step foot in this place again, not for anything, but there she was. For him. She had come for him. "Were you going to start a war, sweetheart?" He's softening, he's becoming again who she knows so well.

"If I had to," she admits, shoulders lifting in a slight shrug, as if he speaks of the weather. "I've come to take you home and I won't leave without you." Her rosy lips curve with a smile as she runs a hand through his unruly curls, grown long in his weeks of captivity. Jon can imagine her- blue gaze fierce, lips spitting venom like a viper, a woman no man would dare fight against- arguing for him, fighting to bring him back to the North with her.

"Home?" He asks, as if he dares not believe what she says. But the way she's smiling, the way her hand reaches for his... He does believe her. He catches her hand in his, drawing it to his mouth for a kiss, an echo of their last moment together some weeks ago. "But what of the Iron Throne?" He asks then, gesturing towards the melted puddle of iron on the floor across the room from where they stand.

"Gone. Dissolved. Westeros is as it once was, independent nations, ruled by their own chosen leader." Sansa glances over her shoulder to where the Iron Throne once stood- she had so many memories within this crumbling room, but none that she cared to remember at all. Except for perhaps this one. She turns back to him, threading her fingers with his, uncaring of who might stumble upon them now. The truth of Jon's birth had been explained in the dragon pit meeting and soon, it would spread across all of Westeros that there was but one Targaryen left in the world. "King's Landing will be rebuilt, beginning with the demolished town so the smallfolk have a place to stay again. Bran is to remain here and rule, he was chosen by the other lords." Jon's gaze shifts from her face back to where the throne once stood, the memory of his last moment's in this room filtering through his mind. "They said the dragon took her away..." Sansa's voice draws him back and he turns to face her once again, nodding. "Back to Essos..." she wonders aloud, the same location where perhaps everyone assumed the dragon to be taking his mother's body. "Come... There's rooms that have been prepared." There wasn't much that wasn't destroyed in Daenerys' attack on King's Landing, but there was enough rooms left in tact for a small court to remain. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Jon lets her take him by the hand and lead him from the room.

[ x x x ]

She finds him on the deck of the ship, watching as King's Landing grows small in the distance.

It has been a fortnight since their reunion, since the day of the dragonpit meeting, and finally they were to return home. Leaving Bran behind had been painful, but as Jon slips his arm around her waist, she knows that she's never going to be alone again. And soon enough, Arya will return from her travels eastward and they will all be together again.

"I thought you were feeling seasick," he says as she leans into him, her gaze following where his once went, the highest remaining peak of King's Landing disappearing into the distance. "You can stay in the cabin, if you must." He was worried to find her huddled over a bucket in the cabin just moments after taking off from the dock, her lady knight gently rubbing circles against her back. She had sworn it to be from the ship rocking and waved him away, saying she would try to lay in the bed and find some comfort.

Chuckling, she looks back to him, taking in the sight of him; he looks healthy, with his face trimmed and his unruly curls secured in his signature bun. His smile is brighter than she's seen it in months, no longer like a ghost, he's a man that's been born again. Come to think of it, she too once felt like a ghost of her former self, never to find that girl she once was. Perhaps she might never find the Sansa who left Winterfell all those years ago, but the Sansa she's become isn't truly so bad. Besides.... There is happiness still yet to come.

"I think I've found my sea legs," she says, her words bringing a laugh from his lips as his hands place themselves against her hips, pulling her close. In the two weeks they spent in King's Landing, their relationship became quite evident to those around them and there would be no surprise when in a few weeks, they would certainly be married and crowned King and Queen in the North. And so here, on a ship filled with loyal Northern men, they are not worried about who might see them there.

His kiss comes a moment later, a long, slow kiss that weakens her knees, a kiss that steals the very breath from her lungs. When he pulls back a few moments later, he's just as breathless, but grinning as he tips his forehead against hers. "I might like to keep you in the cabin anyways," he teases and though her cheeks flood with color, she's smiling mischievously, telling him she's not that opposed to the idea. He kisses her again, this one full of fire, and his grip tightens at her waist, closing the gap between them. His lips are on the move and she can feel the gentle tip of his teeth on the soft flesh of her earlobe, his breath warm against her neck.

She's the one to break from this tender touch, drawing back with her hands on his shoulders, staring into his Stark colored eyes, a strange sort of smile on her lips. "There's something I must tell you," she says and Jon blinks, clearly surprised by her sudden admission. But he nods all the same, the only bit of encouragement she needs to speak on. "That night... After the feast..." Drunk as he might have been, he remembers, for how could he ever forget? Her smile does not fade as she reaches for his hand and draws it down, pressing his palm against the flat plane of her abdomen. "I'm with child, Jon."

At first, Jon isn't quite certain that he's heard her correctly. "With... Child?" He asks as she slides her hand into place over his, her face bright with her smile, nodding in response to his question. The realization of what her words mean suddenly sink in and Jon can't help but to sweep her off her feet in an embrace, his laughter carrying along the wind as he swings her back to the ground. Now he's understanding- things he had noticed, such as an unusual aversion to quail in King's Landing or the drowsiness she had explained away by the tireless hours she worked to help Bran make sense of the kingdom he'd been left with- all signs he had overlooked, not even thinking for a moment that such a thing were possible.

"It's early days yet, but the maester in King's Landing swears it will be a healthy babe." Sansa smiles, thinking back to that day only a week before when she had learned herself the truth of what had been ailing her day after day. "You're happy..?" She can't help but to ask, sobering slightly, knowing that this was perhaps not the way either of them had thought they would begin their new life together. Despite the peace of Westeros, there was still so much uncertainty ahead.

But she can't help but to smile again when Jon pulls her into a gentle embrace, holding her close, the sweet scent of her hair filling him with warmth. "I'm happier than I ever thought I could be," Jon admits when he's peering into her eyes once more, a hand falling into place against the curve of her cheek. "Happier than I might even deserve to be."

This time when he kisses her, it's tender, it's soft, it's a silent thank you. It's everything he's wanted to say to her, but could never find the words to use.

She must understand though, for when they break apart she's smiling. Her hand find his and Jon knows, there was no other place he wanted to stand more than at her side.

And that would be where he was, for the rest of his life.

[rosyredlipstick]

the bard is in love with the witcher!

@cerydwynn -- Geralt/Jaskier fic rec list I promised. 

Love As You Are

Jaskier didn’t want to marry just any noblewoman--no matter how comely she may be--he wanted adventure and many loves, but most importantly his biggest, greatest love of all.

He is not expecting that love to be in the form of a brooding stranger sitting at the back of a tavern.

In one instant his breath catches in his throat at the beauty of the man before him and in the next, there’s a burning sensation on the bottom of his heel as his mark makes itself known. It’s pain and pleasure knotted together, roses surrounded by thorns.

God, I love me a good soulmate AU! This one, in particular, has some GREAT angst that goes through their meeting and beyond. 

~

Food of Love by tanktrilby

I brought a dead princess back to life through the power of song is the kind of thing that would have got an eyebrow raise even from the stone-faced Geralt of Rivia, so it's a good thing he and Geralt will probably never see each other again.

(or: the one where Jaskier channels magic through his songs, and it almost never goes as expected.)

Okay this is literally my FAVORITE witcher fic. Whenever it updated, i screamed into a pillow. God, this one really explores Jaskier’s other relationships while also nursing the hurt/love he still holds for Geralt. Also: BARD MAGICCC My favorite! 

~

His Touch by Sevent

Jaskier is an affectionate man. It drives Geralt mad, but in more ways than he knows how to put into words.

This one is SO SOFT. Wow, I love a good Geralt POV and this one BLOWS MY MIND. so tender, wow.

~

The Witcher Wolf  by im_fairly_witty

It’s been two weeks since Geralt shouted Jaskier away from him on that mountain and Jaskier has been handling it like a champ by forlornly wandering alone in the wilderness with his lute. When he (literally) stumbles across an injured white wolf he decides to take a chance and see if he can help it, appreciating the irony of the situation but not quite realizing why it is that the wolf’s golden eyes look exactly like his Witcher’s...

It took me a hot sec to get around to reading this fic but after i finally did start it i was ENCHANTED. I ADORE this fic. Also while making this list I found out there was a sequel SO  now that’s what I’m doing this afternoon. 

~

A Dandelion By Any Other Name by TabbyCat33098

Jaskier is throwing up flowers and refuses to tell Geralt who has afflicted him so. As Geralt grapples with Jaskier's impending death, he comes to terms with a few things himself.

//

“Who’s the unlucky woman?” Geralt asks, stepping into the firelight.

Jaskier starts, dandelions spilling from his hands. He hastily brushes them away. “Gods, Geralt, must you always sneak up on me? This is why you have an image problem, you know. Don’t get me wrong, the whole tall, dark, and murderous vibe is fantastic -- really brings out the color of your eyes -- but the skulking tips you firmly into the realm of, well, somewhat unhinged.”

Geralt only glares at Jaskier, waiting for him to tire himself out, and sets about roasting the fowl.

“Anyway, killing my beloved won’t cure me,” Jaskier continues blithely, “so don’t even think about it. Not all problems can be solved by whacking away at them with those oversized butter knives you carry around.” He settles cross-legged next to the fire with his lute balanced across his knees and strums a few chords.

omg i just read this one and it’s SO good. i seriously ADORE this ending with everything unsaid and !!!! love it. 

~

a broken pot can still hold water by MarionetteFtHJM

Despite what his outward code of conduct would have you thinking, Jaskier knows when he is not wanted.

He allows himself the exact amount of three days of wallowing in that small town before he packs his meager possessions and hits the road like nothing happened. In those three days he sings and dances for his food and drink, fucks the pretty barmaid and sleeps off the hangover before heading out in the morning of the fourth day. He travels alone for the first time in a while but it’s alright.

Now, if only people would stop telling him that the Witcher asks about him - that'd be swell.

genuinely love this fic. really fleshes out Jaskier as such a complex character, and I love Yennefer here. And Geralt! I don’t want to say too much and spoil it, but I highly recommend this one!

~

Companionship by ArliaDevi

In which Ciri suspects but cannot confirm.

Or,

Geralt and Jaskier get domestic. Well, as domestic as they can.

OMG. after reading this fic i had to go searching for some more amazing domestic ciri + geralt/jaskier fics but this one is my favorite!!! I just adore adore adore ciri and I love to see geralt and jaskier in their parenting to her and wow!! it’s so soft and sweet!

~

Do It Again by thisgirlsays22

By the twentieth time Geralt has gone through the loop, he decides to just throw himself off the cliff’s edge after Borch.

He wakes up to his twenty-first attempt.

“Fuck.”

okay this is kind of cheating bc i just started reading this one while making this list BUT im like, 2 scenes and it’s SO GODD oh my god. im such  a sucker for time loop fics (!!!) and this one is really doing it for me 

hope you enjoy, rina!!!!! CONGRATS ON YOUR NEW JOB IM SO PROUD OF YOU 

[the-dragons-knight]

WoLtober 2020

Day #7, 8, & 9) Of Past and Future

Talent - ‘a special or natural ability or aptitude’

Past - ‘the history of a person’

Future - ‘something that will exist or happen in time to come’

<Heavensward MSQ Spoilers ahead>

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It was late into the night as Katsum dragged her brush across the canvas, the moonlight lighting her painting as the firelight had long since died out. She leaned over to look past her canvas at her subject, smiling at the sleeping form of her dear Lord Commander, his bare chest glistening in the light with his hips and legs wrapped in the silk of their bedsheets. When she had started, he had been awake, grinning, and posing for her to make her giggle and blush as she painted, yet she was also glad he had found peace enough to fall asleep. It warmed her heart as she pulled the strap of her nightgown back up onto her shoulder, moving back to continue shading the elegant shadows around Aymeric’s form.

When he had learned she had a talent for painting, he had nearly begged her to paint something for him, a portrait of the two of them together that they could hang in their home. After a while, she agreed on the condition that she could paint him one day in whatever way she chose, and he had agreed with a sweet smile. It had been a while since she had finished their portrait though, and she’d finally pried herself from the warmth of the covers and the loving grip of her husband to pull out the easel and paints and finally sit down to paint.

As she gently painted in the shadows around his chest, she suddenly heard him moan in his sleep. The sound made her stop and peer over at him. His face was twisted like he was in pain, her body tense as he shifted onto his back as if fighting off someone. Katsum dropped her paintbrush in her cup of brush cleaner and stepped around her easel, padding across the cold floor to reach out to him.

“No...don't...don’t hurt her...” He heard him whisper, a drop of sweat rolling down his forehead, “Do what you will...but don’t...hurt her...”

She could only guess what he was dreaming about. She reached out and gently held his hand and shook him, “My love, wake up.”

He shuddered and his brow narrowed more in his terror, “Run...run please...no father, please...let her go...”

“Aymeric!” The Elezen jolted violently at the sound of her voice, his eyes flashing open as he grabbed the wrist of her hand that held his in panic. She stayed still as his eyes flitted around the room, sitting up and taking in his location before finally settling on her and his breathing slowed a bit.

“Kat…?” He sighed and loosened his grip on her wrist, running his hand over his face, “I’ve sorry, my love, I...what a horrible nightmare...”

Katsum sighed sadly and sat beside him on the bed, curling her tail around her legs and sweeping his bangs out of his eyes, “Are you alright?”

“I...I am not...sure…” He looked down at his still shaking hand before laying it on his abdomen where two scars crossed, one from the Heavensward torture and the other from the knife from his near assassination, “It felt so very real...and they...I couldn’t bear watching them hurt you...”

Katsum climbed into his lap, shifting her gown up her thighs to straddle his hips, standing on her knees to pull him into her embrace and letting him bury his face in her neck and shoulder. She ran her fingers through his hair as he wrapped his arms around her tightly, shaking softly as he stroked her back through her silky gown.

“I’m so relieved...that it was only a dream...Thank heaven you are safe.” He mumbled into her shoulder, and she could feel the tears drop on her arm, “By the Fury...I would be...so lost without you...”

“Oh, my sweet Aymeric...” Her ears fell back as she leaned her head against his as she hugged him tightly, “Shhh...you are safe now. they cannot harm you anymore.”

He sobbed into her shoulder and she held him together, running her fingers through his hair to calm him. It was often he who was comforting her after a nightmare, yet there were these rare times when his traumas of the past and the Dragonsong War surfaced and he would wake as he had tonight in a cold sweat and his dreams being far too real for their good. It was often the same dream, of his time down in the dungeons of the Vault where the Heavensward tortured him on the behalf of his own father. The thought always made her angry that his blessed father would treat him in such a horrible way...Katsum could not understand it, and she never would.

“Katsum?”

She blinked as his quiet voice broke her trance, “Yes?”

She felt him move to sit back against the headboard and sat her on his thighs, intertwining their fingers as he took a deep breath, “Talk about something. Anything. Just...something to get my mind off of things.”

Katsum thought for a moment, thinking of something that she could talk about that would help him clear his mind. Finally, she too sighed, smiling softly as she toyed with their fingers, “How many children do we want to have?” By the silence that followed, she knew she had thrown him off so she met his bewildered gaze sweetly, “We’ve spoken about it before I know, but I wanted to ask.”

Aymeric blinked as his eyebrows lifted, “Were you...do you wish to start trying for a child? I remember we decided to wait and use protective measures until after the war with Garlemald, but...”

“Don’t think too far, my love,” Katsum blushed and squeezed his hand, “Think only of what I asked you. How many children do we want?”

Aymeric looked at their hands in thought, “I have thought about it ever since we got married. I want a daughter, a girl who I hope looks like you that I may cherish as much as I do you. I want a son as well...a son to love more than my father ever did. A boy to teach to grow into a good brother to protect his sister and family when we are gone.”

Katsum nodded, “So two?”

Aymeric turned his head curiously, “Would you like more?”

“One more. I think I would like three children.”

“Three? Truly?”

She nodded, “Either two girls and a boy or two boys and a girl. What do you think?”

He smiled and lifted her hand to his lip to kiss her knuckles, “It sounds perfect.”

She smiled and leaned towards him to press a kiss to his lips, thinking he would pull away until she felt his arms wrap around her and pulled her body down to lay on his as he kissed her back. She hummed against his lips as she ran her fingers through his hair again, pulling away from his lips to nuzzle her nose against his, her tail waving happily in the air.

“How about you finish painting another night and come lay down with me again?” He whispered into the shell of her feline ear, his hand trailing down her back again, “I wish for the comfort of your warmth to sleep more soundly.”

Katsum kissed his cheek, “Of course, my lord. Let me go and close up my paint.” She pulled from his grasp and trotted over to her easel, let her tail lift the trim of her slip as she moved to tease Aymeric.

She saw him roll to lean over the edge of the bed towards her, “Hurry back.”

She giggled, “Patience, sweet Aymeric.~” She cleaned her few brushes and closed her paints and cleaner and then moved back to the bedside, letting Aymeric snatch her waist and roll them into the sheets, wrapping them both into the blankets as he snuggled under her chin and sighed.

Katsum placed a kiss on his forehead, “Goodnight, my sweet knight.”

He shifted and placed a kiss on her collarbone, “Goodnight, my beloved Kat.”

[lokimostly]

I’ll Be Home for Christmas

James Conrad x Reader Word Count: 3,050 Warnings: mentions of smut, mild language, fluff overload Summary: Since returning to civilization, you and Conrad have forgotten Christmas for two years in a row. You’re determined not to miss this one.

A/N: This fic contains pre-established characters and references to a two-part series called Rainy Days/Home From War. While this can be read without context, you’re more than welcome to catch up with the series first! You can find the series HERE <3

Our beloved James Conrad is home for the holidays! I’ve always wanted to write a Christmas-themed fic, but never remembered until it was long gone. I’m so glad to have caught it this time around (barely). I love you guys, Happy Holidays, I can’t wait to jump into the next year (and next decade!) with you! <3 

The morning was crisp and cold when you opened the passenger-side door of the truck and climbed inside, blowing out clouds of steam with every breath. It was still long before sunrise. The canopy of stars above you were hidden from view by a thick layer of clouds. If you tried, you might be able to make out the silhouettes of mountains against the black sky, but for now the world was still dark and quiet. 

You rubbed your hands together to stave away the chill. Even though you were thoroughly bundled – with a pile of blankets at your feet, no less – the below-freezing temperatures seeped through your clothes and made you shiver. Two minutes out of the house, and your teeth were already chattering.

The driver’s-side door opened and then closed. Conrad leaned over to press a quick kiss to your forehead before buckling his seatbelt and turning the key in the ignition. The old truck rumbled to life, and you immediately cranked the A/C knobs as far as they could go. He watched you with an amused smirk as you made quick work of unfolding the blankets and burying yourself in them, tucking them all the way up to your chin and closing your eyes.

“You know, this was your idea,” He pointed out, stretching his arm across your seat as he backed out of the driveway. His accented voice was still low and raspy from sleep, the kind of tone that drove you crazy in all the right ways. But right now, you pressed a finger against his mouth and motioned for silence.

“Shhh. Tired.”

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head with a smile before shifting gears and turning his attention to the road.

It was your first Christmas together – not technically, but it would count as the first. There had been a Christmas while you were still recovering from your injuries. Yet another passed you by during your first year of travel: you were visiting Milan when you realized the fact, laughed about it, and moved on. Neither had been celebrated properly; you bought champagne and toasted, and caught the train to France the next morning, and that was it. 

It was too early to settle down. Both you and Conrad shared a mutual restlessness, a sort of wanderlust after everything you’d been through. Traveling during war wasn’t really travel. Conrad’s contract with MONARCH had paid handsomely, and it only took a look between the two of you to understand what you wanted to do.

We’re going home, you and I, Conrad said. Wherever you want to go, I’ll follow.

It seemed like a lifetime ago. 

There were road trips, flights, train rides. Long walks, corner cafes; bar crawls through the city and sex in motel rooms when you couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves any longer. You could trace the scars on his skin unhurried, run your nails over his taut muscle and tease him to the point of begging beneath you. He had you memorized by now: the way your body arched and quivered, the kind of touch that made you dig into his skin and bring noise complaints down on your heads the next morning. You were fairly certain the hotel where you’d spent your wedding night had the Conrads on their blacklist.

“Home” had turned out to be a person rather than a place, like people so often say. Both of you were perfectly content about that fact; so long as you had each other, what else did you need?

It felt like he never let go of your hand for those two years. Even now, he reached over to stroke your hand resting atop the blankets, reassure himself that you were here.

While you only grew closer over the last two years, the road (finally) wore out. So, little less than a month ago, you found somewhere quiet: close enough to the mountains without leaving the sea behind. You had nothing but the clothes and trinkets in your carry-on bags when you signed the lease and pocketed the copper key. 

This Christmas nearly escaped you again-- nearly. You were lying with your head in his lap in front of the fireplace when the thought occurred and you shot up like a bolt of lightning. Conrad jumped, instincts kicking in with a serious expression and his hands outstretched. “What? What is it?”

“We don’t have a tree!”

Conrad gave you a puzzled look, raising his eyebrow. “We don’t have furniture, either,” he pointed out, realizing that this was less of a life-and-death situation and more a minor inconvenience.

“But it’s Christmas on Saturday!”

The corners of his lips twitched with amusement. “I’m aware.”

You stared at him. He didn’t seem to be picking up on the urgency of your current situation, so you gestured around you. “We have a house,” you said slowly, pointing to the bare corners of your living room, illuminated by the firelight. 

“We have a house,” he agreed softly.

You nodded. “We need a tree.”

Conrad sighed softly and took your hand, pulling you towards him for a kiss. He set his forehead against yours and smiled when you bumped noses. “We need a tree,” he agreed.

In the name of authenticity, you bought a tree-cutting permit (“tree lots aren’t as much fun,” you reasoned) and planned the day. A drive up to the mountains in the morning, returning with your quarry, and spending the rest of the day in full spirit of the season. Conrad made sure you wrote ‘drink hot chocolate’ on the to-do list. You would never have guessed that he had such a sweet tooth.

Now, you were fast asleep in the passenger seat amidst a pile of blankets and quilts. Conrad glanced at you whenever he could spare it, taking in the sight of you; even in sleep, your hand was outstretched to hold his. The rosy pale of dawn glowed pink on your skin, and his heart swelled so much it was almost painful.

He never thought he could love you more than he already did, but every day you proved him wrong.

It took another hour before the road broke the tree line, and you stirred, coming awake with a yawn and a stretch.

“Good morning,” He drawled teasingly. You laughed in surprise and smacked his chest. “I was tired.” 

Conrad smirked, catching your hand mid-hit and pressing a kiss to your fingers. “You should have gone to bed sooner,” he chastised, but his smirk was unmistakable -- and only grew when you gasped in indignation.

“If I remember right, you were keeping me up.”

“Former SAS, darling,” he reminded you. “Four hours of sleep are plenty in my book.”

“Oh, that’s not fair.”

He laughed, taking a turn down an unmarked road and giving you an expression of innocence that was almost convincing. “Are you suggesting I stop doting on my wife?” 

It wasn’t a new title by any means, but whenever he said it, your heart leapt. “No,” you admitted, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t ever stop.”

Conrad followed the road until he found a spot to pull over. You pulled off your blankets as he turned the key and got out, walking around to the other side and opening your door. He took you under the arms without question, lifting you down and setting you on the rocky ground before fetching the handsaw and tree tag from the truck bed. 

“Your responsibility,” he said seriously, handing you the red tag with comedic reverence. You accepted it with the same solemnity, only breaking into a smile when you pocketed the item and looped your arm through his, starting down the road.

~

You pushed the tree into the truck bed and shut the tailgate, wiping your hands on your jeans. “We have a tree!” You grinned, unable to hide your excitement. 

Conrad laughed and got into the truck. You followed, almost skipping, and pulled yourself inside the truck. You were fixing your seatbelt and preparing to bury yourself under a mountain of blankets when he turned the key, and the engine stuttered.

You paused. Conrad’s brow furrowed and he tried again, forcing the key forward. The engine spluttered, coughed, and refused to start. 

“Damn,” he swore, sitting back in his seat for a moment. You unbuckled and slid out of the seat, popping the hood as he came around, leaning against the metal with a pensive expression.

You could feel the frustration vibrating off of him and leaned against his arm. “Hey,” You said gently. “Nothing we can’t fix. Remember the ploat?” 

His gaze flickered down to you and he hummed in agreement. “I remember.” He pushed himself off and set his hands on his hips, nodding. “Alright. I think there’s a tool chest under the back seat.” He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow.

You gave him a mock salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

~

A few hours later, it was starting to snow.

“Babe, did you know we’re low on oil?” You asked, sliding the stick back into the cylinder and leaning down to peer at Conrad, who was lying on the ground.

“That’s not our current problem,” he grunted, his long legs splayed and muscles flexing as he twisted the wrench against something on the truck’s underside. You hummed, appreciating the view unabashedly-- and smirking when he noticed and scoffed. 

“You could help, you know,” he pointed out, grunting when the piece came off. He handed you the fuel filter and you reached down to take it, twisting off the cap. “Oh, yuck.”

Conrad slid out and leaned up on his elbows. “Clogged fuel filter.”

“Didn’t you check all this before buying the truck?” You asked rhetorically, pulling the oil bucket towards you and tapping out the loose debris, digging out the more stubborn clots with your hand for lack of an actual cleaner. 

Conrad watched the snowflakes as they landed in your hair like a feathery halo, sticking against your skin before melting. They clung to your eyelashes and made your cheeks flush against the cold. Your lips parted with a huff and you looked up to hand it back to him, pausing. “What? Something on my face?”

He laughed through his nose, shaking his head. “No. Just...” he trailed off, and a faraway look crossed this face-- the kind you were all too familiar with. 

You knelt down and cupped his cheek with one hand, stroking your thumb against his skin. “Hey. I’m here,” you reminded him gently. His blue-green eyes flickered and he reached up, pulling you down for a long, sweet kiss. You relished the taste of his lips, inhaled the smell of sandalwood and vanilla cologne. He broke away and closed his eyes closing his eyes. 

“I know,” he murmured. “Sometimes you just make me wonder whether or not I’m dreaming.” 

“Oh my god, James, way too sappy,” you laughed, pushing against his chest and rolling your eyes. “C’mon, screw this thing back in so I can try the engine again.”

He chuckled at the suspicious shade of red tingeing your cheeks but spared you the dignity of commenting on it and took the filter from your hands, ducking under the truck and picking up the wrench. You fished the keys out of your pocket and got in, leaning out with your hand on the wheel until your husband appeared with the tool chest in hand and gave you the all-clear.

You muttered a quick prayer and turned the keys. The engine sputtered for a moment, wheezing and coughing before something caught and it rumbled to life. You whooped victoriously, sticking your hands up and laughing as Conrad came around. “We did it!” 

Conrad wrapped his arms around you in a brief, celebratory hug before you clambered over to your side and pulled your seatbelt on. The snow was coming down thickly now; there was already a sheet of white on the ground, and in the branches of the trees it was beginning to stick. You pulled one of the blankets up and tossed them over Conrad’s shoulders, pressing a kiss against his cheek for good measure before snuggling in and tuning the radio to something familiar: songs from your war days, which seemed so long ago. 

He put the truck into gear and turned out onto the road, reaching out to take your hand as you headed back down, towards home -- with your Christmas tree in tow.

~

By the time you pulled into the driveway, it was dark again. Conrad unloaded the tree while you stacked the grocery bags onto one arm, heading down the snow-covered sidewalk. It was still coming down in droves and inches deep; no doubt you’d be stuck inside tomorrow.

“Where are you going?”

“Getting the mail!” You called. “That’s a thing we have now, remember?” 

Conrad made a comment you didn’t catch as you slid up to the mailbox and opened it, retrieving the assortment of letters there before heading inside. You tapped your shoes on the porch before stepping in, letting out a soft sigh at the welcoming, warm atmosphere. Furniture or no furniture, there was a naked Christmas tree in the corner, and that meant home. 

“Hot chocolate?” James asked, taking the groceries from you with one hand and helping your coat off with the other. 

“Mm. Please.” You sat down on the floor and began unlacing your shoes, glancing at the pile of mail next to you. There was a thick yellow envelope amongst the pile that caught your eye, and you paused in undressing to glance at the return address. “Hey, Mason sent us something!”

“Who?” came Conrad’s voice from the kitchen.

“Weaver! The photographer?”

“Oh,” you heard him laugh. He came back out with two steaming mugs and handed you one, walking over to the fireplace and flipping the switch. “We’re on first-name basis now, I take it.”

“Apparently. That was fast, though,” you mused, walking over and motioning for him to make space for you to sit between his legs. He obliged, wrapping his arms around your waist and setting his chin on your shoulder as you tore it open and pulled out the letter inside.

“Conrad and L/N,” you began, reading it out loud. James hummed and reached for his hot chocolate. “She knows you’re a Conrad now, she was at our wedding.”

You elbowed him gently and straightened the paper, clearing your throat ceremoniously and beginning again. “Amended to, the Conrads,” you said. “Congrats on finally taking a breather for once. Now I can send you the film I’ve held onto for the past two years.”

“Perks of having a mail box, I suppose,” James nodded, inhaling quickly through his teeth when he attempted a sip of his scalding hot chocolate.

“The wedding photos are in a different letter, and will probably get there late. Oh, I forgot she took those,” you murmured, clicking your tongue. “Until then, enjoy these. I always figured something was going on with you two, way back when. P.S.,” you added. “For your eyes alone, as usual. Cheers, Mason Weaver.” You raised an eyebrow and tapped the envelope. “They must be from the LandSat project.”

Conrad hummed in agreement. “May I?” He asked, setting the cup down and reaching around your waist to pull out the pictures. You leaned back against him as he slid them into his palm, filtering through each one slowly.

Technically you, Conrad, and everyone else involved in the mission to Skull Island were under government oath not to talk about what had happened. You had no qualms with that; you wanted to put the whole experience behind you, anyway. But it wasn’t always possible. Rainy days brought aching pain to your left leg, and there wasn’t a month that went by without one of you startling the other awake from a dream that had once been all too real. It was part of the reason for your closeness: you and Conrad were poignantly aware of how close you had come to losing each other.

But according to the photographs, perhaps it wasn’t all that bad.

“Look at that,” he murmured, pointing to a still image of Conrad sitting beside your sleeping figure, aboard the wrecked ship. The lights of the aurora borealis were visible through the window, and evident in the hues of blue and purple that the photo was cast in. 

You laughed, tapping the laminate. “You gave me your jacket. I remember.”

“You almost got us killed that night, that’s what I remember.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively and set the photo aside. “Yeah, yeah, moving on.”

The next photo was a bit harder to make out, taken across the flight deck of the Athena. You didn’t recognize the angle, but Conrad made a noise and laughed through his nose. “What?”

“I saw you and jumped out of our helicopter,” he explained. “Ran across the deck and told her to take my seat.”

You made an “O” and nodded. “And startled me half to death. She really didn’t miss anything,” you mused, gazing at the miniature silhouette of both of you in the helicopter, the chopper blades blurry against the frame, with storm clouds brewing behind you.

Conrad took the photograph and set it aside. There were a few others inside the stack--pictures of your group members, candid photos of you and Conrad in your own separate settings. There was an image of you and Slivko made you smile. But more frequently than not, you and Conrad shared the same pensive and worried expressions. Every moment had been a life-or-death experience.

You and Conrad filtered through the deck until you reached the final one: taken on Marlow’s boat-- or ploat, as Slivko had coined it. You and Conrad sitting side-by-side at the stern, set against the lush green mountains with all your bags and gear at your feet. Your hands inches away from touching, the two of you looking upwards and listening intently to Marlow, whose arms were frozen in some descriptive gesture. Only, Conrad wasn’t looking at him: his eyes were fixed on you, gazing at you while you were oblivious, so full of tenderness that it broke your heart.

“You loved me,” you murmured, like you were realizing it for the first time. “Way back then.”

Conrad’s arms tightened around your waist. He nodded, leaning his head against yours. “I was more than a little lovestruck,” he agreed quietly, in a tone that made your heart flutter inside your chest. You nestled further into the comfortable expanse of his chest, reaching up and teasing his hair with your fingers.

“Still lovestruck?” You asked hopefully, smiling when his laugh vibrated against your back. 

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, looking out through the windows at the falling snow and holding you tight. “For as long as I live and breathe.”

- - -

A/N: Aaah! Thanks for reading. I loved writing it. 

Tag List: @neontiiger​, @un-consider-it​, @jessiejunebug​, @nerdypisces160​, @lokiisntdeadbitch​, @e-wolf-90​, @cursedmoonstone-blog​, @kikaninchen-2​, @bluebellhairpin​, @evy-lyn​, @midnight-queen-1​, @travelingmypassion​, @harrybpoetry​, @adefectivedetective​, @absolutecraziness13​, @kumikokagato, @randomfangirl7​, @timetraveler1978​, @tarynkauai, @arcanethamin​, @ornate-ribcage​, @julianettedoe, @kinghiddlestonanddixon​, @yespolkadotkitty​, @befearlesslyauthenticc​, @ladybugsfanfics​, @nancybenson

[stardust-andwine]

settle here, in my ribs

Cold-Weather Ficlet

GO - Snakey husband is cold. Tricks angel husband into cuddles.

x

The air outside settled into a bone-deep chill, where the snow in the trees froze to ice and the air took on the pure, deep ache of true winter. Aziraphale curled up at the end of the couch, a thick tartan-patterned blanket thrown over his legs as the fire crackled next to him, soothing away the cold as he read.

 Uneven footsteps came tumbling down from the newly refurbished flat upstairs and he lifted his head as Crowley trudged over to him, bleary-eyed and shivering even though his pajamas appeared to be particularly warm. 

  "I’ve an idea.“ Crowley said, stopping in front of Aziraphale.   

 "An idea?” Aziraphale replied as he crept closer, trying to understand the connection between the serpent’s words and actions. Thin fingers slid under the blanket and lifted up and Crowley slid into the angel’s lap instead, curling the blanket around them both, the length of his long legs forced to lie over the armrest. Ah, so that was it.

 Aziraphale chuckled, placing his book down on the side table and curling his arms around Crowley, reaching underneath the folds of his shirt and pressing warmth into the cool skin.   

"I see,“ Aziraphale whispered. “Cold are you, darling? It is a rather ghastly chill tonight isn’t it?” He ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair, smiling at the humming breath that ghosted over his clavicle. “I’m surprised you haven’t just turned the feeling off.“  

 Crowley grunted, leaning into his hand. “S’better when you do it. How’s about you put a pin in what you’re doing and come upstairs to warm me up? ” One golden eye peaked open at him, imploring and just a touch pleading. “Just long enough to warm up the sheets, angel. Then you can come back down and read to your heart’s content.” 

 “And we are to forget that you can just as easily will your way into warmth, hm?”  Aziraphale smoothed his hands over the soft skin of Crowley’s lower back, pressing heat where he could touch. It was funny that demons were always associated with fire when in truth, they were drawn to the flames because their blood tended to run so very cold indeed.

 Crowley muttered under his breath and when Aziraphale made a questioning noise back, he finally sighed: “Would you—Will you just—Indulge me?” 

 Oh, and who was he to deny such a sweet request? 

Aziraphale chuckled, warm and happy, ignoring Crowley’s offended growling as he did so.   “Alright, alright. You’ve tempted me, dear.” He said. Crowley sniffed, triumphant and burrowed closer. “But only until you’re comfortable, then I’m coming back down for a while. I simply must see what happens next! ” 

 "You’ve read that book at least a dozen times, Aziraphale.“ 

 "I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

  "Ach, fine” Crowley grinned with the confidence of someone who’d gotten exactly what he wanted, unfolding himself with Aziraphale’s blanket still around his shoulders. The firelight cast gold against his hair and brightened his eyes. Aziraphale stood as if drawn by a siren call.   

Crowley made it to the base of the stairs before Aziraphale’s resolve shattered. He lifted the demon and all his long, gangly limbs off his feet, Aziraphale’s hands under his knees and back to curl him near again.  

 Crowley made a choked off noise in surprise, his arms coming up to grasp around Aziraphale’s neck. The angel smiled back at him. “Let me take care of you.” He nosed at the snake on Crowley’s temple, brushed his lips there. "That’s what you wanted isn’t it?“   

Blood flushed across the demon’s cheeks and nose, delighting him when Crowley continued to make a series of unintelligible, but decidedly positive, noises. “Er— Well, if— "  

 "Hush love.” Aziraphale took pity on him and swept them both upstairs.  The flat was still a bit of a mess if Aziraphale was honest. Though, Crowley had convinced him to at least box away the books that he wanted to send to the cottage to clear some room. Seeing them brought both a strange melancholy at the thought of moving his personal collection anywhere but his beloved bookshop and a burst of excitement knowing that they were soon going to be displayed in their new home.  

 Crowley allowed himself to be carried, the corners of his thin lips curling into something fond that made his heart stutter rather obviously. The bedroom was the only area in the building that had seen any of Crowley’s personal attention, as it was the only place Aziraphale hadn’t necessarily claimed for himself unless the demon was there. He had urged the windows to widen, bathing the room in moonlight when the curtains opened as they were now. He came to a stop at the edge of the bed, the comforter so deep a purple they were almost black but so very soft to the touch. Just the way Crowley liked.  

He let Crowley slide back to the floor with only a small sense of loss, seeing the relief in the demon’s limbs as he immediately made to dive back under the covers. 

 "Ugh.“ Aziraphale couldn’t see the demons face as he rummaged for an extra set of blankets but he could hear the irritation clear as day. ”How? How are our sheets bloody freezing? I was just here!“ 

 "I’ll be sure to funnel the heat up this way,” Aziraphale said obligingly to the lump in the blankets.   

"Could just get a regular heating system and save us all the trouble.“ Came the muffled response. Aziraphale could see the slight quiver of Crowley’s body.  

"Oh, that would take entirely too many people in my shop doing far too much touching and for much too long.” Aziraphale waved him off and snapped the blankets open to lay them over the bed and Crowley. When he was done, he slipped in and gathered the demon back into his arms. “There now.” He sighed, feeling Crowley relax, curling his arms and legs around him in a way that would probably break most humans into pieces. “Is that better?"   

"Much.” Crowley’s toothy grin spread against his neck and then melted into a grateful kiss. 

 “Just for a few moments,” Aziraphale warned, contradicting himself almost immediately by burying his nose in the hair at Crowley’s crown. “That’s all.” 

 “Course, angel.”  

 Aziraphale was made of light. Not the heat of flames and destruction; but the warmth of security, of comfort. The core of him was a cascade of embers brought on by love, and Crowley was the very breath that drew it to a roar.  It was clear he’d been conned. So well known by the creature he held that they both knew he would give in to the excuse to hold him and that the feel of Crowley’s skin against his own was his greatest weakness. 

Yet he couldn’t find a true reason to mind, even as his cast-aside book called out to him from the shop below. Instead, he spread his wings from the other plane, cocooning them both, leaving no space between them and when Crowley’s breath started to even out, the angel found he could not find the strength to part from him.  

 He drifted after his love with a smile, remembering that he would never have to do so again. 

[iturbide]

Oh, 12 would be a great one for Claude and, really, any of the Golden Deer. Like, when he opens up to them that he’s Almyran, they want to show him that he’s more than welcome and he’ll always be their trusted leader and beloved friend. Maybe they organize a mounted archery contest? Tending to wyverns? I recall Claude enjoying a celebration in Almyra that was a ceremonial dance around a huge fire (my memory is a bit fuzzy, I am embarrassed to say as a Claude lover). I bet you have some ideas!

You know you’re right any of the Golden Deer would be great

so since i can’t pick why not all of them

12. Following their family traditions that they enjoy. 

“Lady Judith!!”

She stopped, touching her rapier as she turned toward the sound of running steps…and relaxed, folding her arms over her chest as seven mismatched fighters came stumbling to a halt before her.  She recognized them, of course: it would be hard not to, given that they were all generals in the Alliance army now, not to mention Claude’s old housemates from his days at Garreg Mach.  “Should I be worried?” she asked.

“Did you know Claude’s Almyran!?” Raphael asked excitedly.

Some aunt she’d be, if she didn’t.  But she only quirked a brow politely and nodded.  “I did.”

“Why did you never make mention of that!?” Lorenz demanded.

It was hard to keep her hand off her sword.  “What does it matter where he came from, boy?” she shot back.

“It matters a lot!!” Leonie insisted, hands fisted at her sides.

“He’s been here in the Alliance for, what, six years?” Hilda ventured, counting off on her fingers.  Seven, in truth, though Judith made no effort to correct her.  “And this whole time he’s never had any way to see his family!  I’d be a wreck if I couldn’t go home once in a while to visit my father and brother.”

“He must have been so lonely, all this time,” Marianne murmured, folding her hands, “being so far from home, with nothing to remember it by…”

…well this had certainly taken a different turn than she expected.  “What are you saying, exactly?”

“Claude’s been working so hard, trying to keep us ahead of the Empire, making sure the Alliance has what it needs to survive and win – the least we can do is show we appreciate it,” Lysithea huffed.

“And, well, what better way than trying to make him feel at home?” Ignatz added, adjusting his glasses.  “Only…none of know all that much about Almyra.  I heard from Cyril once that it has vast open plains, but…I doubt I could capture a likeness without having seen it myself.”

“My brother collects battle standards from skirmishes at the Locket, but that’s not much to go on where fashion and decoration are concerned, either,” Hilda sighed.

“We were hoping you might know more,” Leonie said.  “I mean, if you knew Claude’s Almyran, maybe you know what it’s like there.  What kind of food they have, that sort of thing.”

“With the Empire so close, we know he can’t go home, but…maybe if we could bring a little bit of home to him…” Mariane ventured.

“So will you help us out, Lady Judith?” Raphael asked.  “Please?”

Judith smiled, running a hand back through her hair.  Lucky Claude, having friends like these at his back.  “Well, I can’t claim to know much,” she cautioned, “but I’ll gladly tell you everything I can.”

///

Claude sighed, rubbing his eyes as the ink started to blur on the page.  It was getting hard to stay focused, which usually meant it was time to get up and go do something else…but things had been weird lately.  Tense, in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on.  His old housemates from the Golden Deer had been acting extra flighty, giving him a wide berth every time they happened to cross paths and making excuses whenever he tried to talk with them before beating a hasty retreat.  Even Hilda, who usually loved shirking her chores to take breaks with him, had waved him off twice, saying she was in the middle of something (despite all evidence to the contrary).

It hadn’t been this way before Fort Merceus.  But then, nobody had known about his Almyran heritage, either.

Raking his hands through his hair, he leaned back so far that his seat threatened to tip over.  He’d been so certain that if anyone could bridge the divide between Fodlan and Almyra, it was his old house…and it hurt to realize that his secrecy at the academy had been justified.  

Admittedly, none of this was what he’d wanted to focus on while he stepped back from his Enbarr siege tactics.

A knock came at the door, and he tipped his chair forward, sprawling across the map.  “Come in,” he mumbled.

He wasn’t actually sure if he’d been loud enough to hear.  But the door opened anyway, and Judith came striding in, grinning ear to ear.  “You busy?”

“Kind of,” he grumbled.

“Too bad,” she replied.  “Even Master Tacticians need breaks, and you look like you could use one.”

“Please don’t call me that,” he groaned.

“Would you rather I call you ‘boy’?”

“Like you do to Lorenz?  No, thank you,” he scoffed, shoving himself more or less upright and trying to ignore the chorus of pops that accompanied his stretch; if his own regret at sitting too long weren’t bad enough, her glare only compounded it.

“You definitely need a break,” she declared.  Any stronger and it would have been an order.

“Alright, alright,” he sighed.  “I need to check on the wyverns anyway.”

“That sounds like more work,” she warned.

“At least I won’t be hunched over a desk, though, right?”

“That’s not the point.”

“You didn’t say what kind of break I needed.”

“Smart-ass,” she snorted, hooking his arm in hers and dragging him out the door, away from the stairs leading up to the roof where the wyverns had taken roost and toward the gate leading out of the fort they’d occupied on the march toward Enbarr.  The rain that had forced their stop had long-since passed, but the dry ground and the clear skies above promised that they’d be free to resume the march with the sunrise.  It would be a perfect night for stargazing, if he could escape Judith–

The aroma of wild garlic and roast fish almost knocked him off his feet.  As it was, only Judith’s hold on his arm kept him stumbling in the right direction.  There was a bright blaze visible through the trees, too big to be a campfire…and as they broke through the undergrowth, he realized it was a bonfire – a small one, filling the clearing with the sweet scent of cedar smoke.  “What is this?” he asked.

“What’s it look like?” Judith grinned.

“It looks like I’m dreaming,” he replied, rubbing his eyes with the heel of one hand.

“Well, I can assure you that it’s real,” she laughed.  “Now you’d better hurry up if you want to eat, I don’t know how long they can hold Raphael off.”

As if on cue, Hilda appeared at his side, grabbing hold of his other arm.  “Thanks, Lady Judith!” she giggled, dragging him toward the fire.  “We were starting to worry you’d never show up!”

“…did I miss something?” he asked.

She didn’t answer with anything but a smile.  But as the firelight drove the darkness back, he realized that she was wearing a sash not so different from his own, complete with bright patterns and dangling ornaments.  As the rest of the Golden Deer gathered around, he realized they all had them, the traditional green and gold accented with different colors for each of them.  And they were all looking at him, waiting for him to speak.

He couldn’t find words for a minute.  He just stared at them, every one of them smiling (even Lorenz!) and bearing familiar traces of his homeland.  “What is this?” he asked again.

“It’s a party!” Raphael laughed.

“A celebration,” Lysithea corrected.

“Lady Judith told us about an Almyran fire festival,” Ignatz added, adjusting his glasses.  “We couldn’t find everything she mentioned, but we tried to get as close as we could.”

“I got the food together,” Leonie beamed.  “Spent most of today fishing and foraging and cooking, and I think it all turned out pretty great.”

“Sure did,” Raph agreed.  “I got to taste test after I got the fire going!”

“I didn’t have enough time to make whole outfits,” Hilda sighed, “but I at least managed to make sashes for everybody.  I tried to base it off yours, but I’ve never seen you take yours off, so I had to do a little guess-work.”

“But…but what is it for?” Claude asked, still hopelessly confused.

“It’s for you,” Marianne replied, playing with her sash.  “You’ve been working so hard lately, preparing for Enbarr…we wanted to thank you.”

“And what better way than by giving you something from home?” Lysithea asked.

Claude couldn’t stop the smile from creeping across his own face.  “…did Judith happen to mention that the Festival of Fire is part of the New Year celebration?”

They all stopped and looked nervously at one another.  “I…can’t seem to recall,” Lorenz replied awkwardly. 

“I’ve gotta say, you couldn’t have picked a better celebration,” Claude beamed.  “The Festival of Fire always precedes the New Year festivities.  It’s about burning away problems and bad luck so that we can go into the New Year without worries to drag us down.  Andwe’re working our way toward a new dawn, aren’t we?  One free from Imperial rule.  This’ll make sure we come at the battle free of any burdens.”

Their anxiety melted away as he spoke, and by the time he finished their smiles were brighter than the bonfire.  “Will you tell us more about it?” Ignatz asked eagerly.  “The festival, and the New Year?”

“Of course I will – I’ll even teach you how to jump the bonfire without setting yourself on fire,” he winked.  “Thank you all.  This is…amazing.”

“We’re glad you like it,” Hilda giggled.  “It’s the least we could do for you.”

If this was their least, he couldn’t help but wonder what else they might have done.  This was already more than he’d expected.  More than he’d ever thought to ask for.  And as Leonie led the way around the fire to the blankets laid out with a feast fit for an Almyran table, he felt the warmth of their company burn away all his old fears.

50 Wordless Ways to Say ‘I Love You’

[sablesides-writing-corner]

Psst.. The Little Mermaid And Romas?

Roman was a singer, he knew that much, but at heart he was an anthropologist, and that took precedence over concerts any day. This particular evening Roman had decided was as good a time as any to explore the abandoned ship wreck east of the kingdom with his brother.

"There might be sharks! Or a giant squid!" Remus said.

"You're a giant squid," Roman said, nudging him to the side.

"I now! That's why I hope we meet one!" Remus said, spinning ina circle and spreading out his tentacles. Roman rolled his eyes and flicked his tail.

"Come on, we've got a ship to explore," Roman said, shooting through a hole that used to be a window. Remus followed, only for his lower half to get stuck. Roman yanked him the rest of the way through and went on his way exploring.

They had amassed a large summary of items before the rude intrusion of a very large and hungry shark, retreating to the surface in their escape.

"That was close," said Roman.

Remus shook his hair out "Yeah! And it was awesome!" he responded enthusiastically.

"We should check with Patton to see what these are," said Roman.

Patton, a stout man with the wings of a bird, was Roman's only ticket to information about the surface. Thought he wasnt exactly very good at it.

"And this one looks like a dinglehopper!" holding up what, to anyone who knew even the most basic details of human culture, was clearly a fork.

"What's it for?" Roman said, leaning his head on his arms.

"The humans use it to brush their hair!" Patton said, demonstrating on his own.

"Woah," Roman said, Remus merely laughed.

"Well we've gotta get going before dad notices we're missing," Roman said.

"Well come back soon!" Patton said, watching the duo disappear beneath the waves.

"The surface! Of all the places to skip out on a concert for! The surface!" King Romulus was fuming, so much in fact that there were bubbles forming near his head.

"It was only to see Patton! We didnt go near any ships!" Roman tried to explain, but the situation only seemed to worsen.

"That's it, I've had enough of you two and this surface-world nonsense. Virgil! Watch them." a short purple-haired merman swam out from behind the throne.

"Of course, sire-" he said, swimming between the twins. The trio left the throne room, Remus annoyed, and Roman angry and dismayed.

They were distracted momentarily by the appearance of brightly colored flashes of light above the water. Before Remus and Virgil could stop him, Roman was charging towards the source of the light. A large, elaborately designed boat.

"Roman you get back here! Dont even think about going near that boat!" Virgil called. But Roman was already climbing up to an opening at the side of the ship.

The ship was completely full of humans, dancing, singing, and causing general amounts of party related ruckus. But what really caught the young merman's eye was a the man at the center of it all, tall, muscular, with brown hair and eyes. What looked to be a labrador was dancing at his heels, until it noticed Roman's face peaking through the ship. Before he could duck, his face was covered in dog slobber.

"Hey! Hey! Easy girl- easy," the man brought away the dog, and seemed to stall a bit as he examined Roman's face. He was about to open his mouth to speak when a voice called for a man named Thomas, at which he promptly retreated. Roman took the opportunity to retreat back into the water.

"Roman that was stupid! You couldve been killed!" said Virgil.

"Oh but you shouldve seen him! He was so tall and handsome and he looked like he could hoist me into the air with one arm!" Roman said, holding his hands to his heart.

"Oh dont tell us you fell in love with a human!" Remus said, grinning cheekily.

Roman was about to defend himself, when lightning stuck behind them. He whipped around only to see the ship which held his beloved going down in flames. He raced under the water and thrashed around looking for him. He finally located his knight in shining armor and dashed to his side, heaving with all the strength he could muster to get to the surface. He stayed by Thomas'side until he noticed the prince's eyes begin to flutter. The song he'd been singing faltered, and he darted back into the water before he could be noticed. He watched as a taller man with a scar across his face approached his prince, draping a cloak over his shoulders and guiding him to a castle. Roman retreated back into the water, where Remus and Virgil awaited him.

"Of all the ignorant stupid boar-headed things you couldvw done! Why in all of Atlantis would you go after him!" Virgil said.

"Hes in love Virgil let him make stupid decisions if he wants," Remus said, cackling. Roman merely glared at him.

He and Remus finally lost the distressed merman in Roman's favorite hideout, the grotto. Within it was a statue of Roman's prince, a prize won after the storm.

"Sooooo- tell me about him- does he look like he'd taste good cooked over a volcano?" Remus laughed.

"Oh be quiet!" Roman snapped. He went on about the love of his life for several hours before the atmosphere seemed to change.

"A human?" Roman's spine seemed to go rigid.

"H-Hello- father-" he said. Remus' eyes widened. Roman hid behind the statue.

"My own son, in love with a human?" King Romulus' voice seemed to echo, causing different trinkets to fall to the bottom of the cove. There was a flash of light, and Roman's treasures were destroyed. All that was left of the rampage was the face of the statue. Roman stared at his father, shock, fear, and sadness evident on his face. Before his own brother could call out for him he'd left the cove, much to far away to hear their pleas.

He'd been crying against the rocks for who knew how long, when he heard voices.

"Poor thing,"

"Broken heart, he must feel horrible,"

Roman looked up, two mereels were circling above him.

"What do you want?" he said, wiping his face off.

"Oh you poor child, we only want to help you!" said the first.

"And we know just what you need, and just who can do it," said the second. The two held their hands out, Roman hesitated, before reaching his own out.

He was taken to what seemed like the rotting carcass of a whale.

"In here, in here, she wont bite," said the eels.

"Who've you brought me now?" said a gentle voice. Roman swam further into the home, to be met with a woman in front of a mirror, blue and purple hair framing her face.

"A prince!"

"Prince Roman!"

The eels chattered on, the woman turned around. She was small, she looked kind.

"Hestia, a pleasure to meet you," she said.

"Now it's my understanding that you're in love with a human yes?" Hestia smiled, the once white lines across her body shifting to an odd shade of pinkish-red.

"Yes but- I havent got any way to pay-" Hestia held a finger to his lips to shut him up.

"Oh the payment wont be much, a token really! All I want from you is. . . your voice," she said, smiling.

"My voice?" Roman replied.

"Only for a little, my brother Remy hasnt one of his own, you'll only have to go three days without it, that is if you get a kiss from your prince before sunset on the third," the lines shifted to a gold color. Roman was barely focussing on that, to busy thinking of the kiss.

"Alright- my voice- I'll do it," Roman said.

Hestia grinned, "Good, Remy! come here darling!" she called. A younger merman with sunglasses and brown hair swam out of the back, twisting a necklace in his hands.

"Now, as for you, sing," Hestia said, pointing at Roman. He did as told, felt something rise in his throat, and then he couldnt breath. He couldn't see or hear, he felt like he was dying. He heard laughter, female laughter. Someone dragged him to the surface, and he let out a sharp inhale.

"Roman! Roman! Stay with me!" Remus said, shaking Roman's head from side to side.

Roman coughed and tried to respond, but nothing came out.

"You signed away your voice you idiot!" Virgil said, as though this wasn't immediately obvious to everyone on the beach. Remus was about to interject when they heard a voice, Thomas' voice. Virgil quickly spun a piece of cloth around Roman's body, and he and Remus fled into the ocean.

"I mean he acts like I'm a child! It's not my fault the ship-" Thomas paused upon noticing Roman, who smiled at him delightedly.

"Well hello there, and who might you be?" Thomas said, helping Roman out of the water. He stumbled a bit and fell forward into Thomas' arms.

He tried to respond, but to no avail, Thomas seemed concerned by this.

"Are you alright? Can you not speak?" Thomas said. Roman nodded, the smile he got in return was enough to make his heart melt.

"Well, let's get you warmed up then, off to the castle we go," Thomas said.

It was a cozy affair his first night at the castle, warm by the fire with Thomas telling him stories. He seemed entranced by how the firelight danced in Roman's eyes.

The next day Thomas took him out into the town, he wished he couldve laughed at all of Thomas' jokes. Late that night they sat in a boat,music playing from all sides, familiar faces popping up every now and again

Roman had barely noticed Thomas' face close to his own until they were thrown out of the boat by a mysterious force.

The third day was by far the worst. Roman had awoken to find Thomas gone, to marry a man he said had saved him from death.Roman had watched as the ship sailed off, until three voices piped up.

"Roman! Roman it's the sea witch's brother! Hes stealing your man!" Remus said. Virgil and Patton nodded along side him. It took a fair bit of planning time before they could reach the boat, but by the time the trick had been realized, Roman felt something in himself change. He felt, again, like he was dying.

"Poor princey, no kisses for you hm?" Hestia's voice came from the water, she rose out of it, a familiar weapon in her hands.

"You like it? It's a birthday present from your father," she said, laughing so loud the ship trembled.

"What do you want from him!" Thomas yelled, dragging Roman closer to himself.

"Dont you talk to me like that! I'm going to rule all seven seas! And the likes of you wont stop me!" Hestia growled, bringing the trident down between the ship, causing it to begin to sink. Lifeboats crashed into the water, Roman fled under as well, attempting to reach the sea witch. He thought he'd snuck past her when he was pinned to the sea floor by the trident, a whirlpool beginning to form.

"Now you get to see what it felt like to be me! Disgraced, a shame to my family! Left for dead in the relentless waves of the ocean!" Hestia snarled. Roman felt static on all sides, and then nothing at all. A large object had fallen in front of him, Hestia, dead. Her brother backing away from the body, holding up what looked to be a broken down shipwreck. Roman popped his head above the water, Thomas was smiling at him.

It took nearly half a day to explain what had happened to King Romulus, and longer still to get him to calm down about Roman and Thomas' idea for marriage. But eventually, he conceded, and Roman was allowed to happily marry his prince charming, and live peacefully with him in their castle by the ocean.