#tried to break it apart to make it easier to read but dear lord that's a lotta text

[kihaku-gato]

hey!! you follow my plantblr (unexpectedplantblr) and i’ve learned so much just off your tags dude. wdym pruning omg i’m so wildly unprepared how and when should i be doing that! i can’t imagine they have yt videos on shit THAT basic do they!?.

and my apples are dwarfs?? i’ve been stressing abt them so close to the house and was trying to find an arborist to help me move them but do you think they’ll be ok with just some root guard? omg i’m so sorry to bug you feel free to ignore!

There’s no issues and I welcome the asks! This enthusiasm gives me old tumblr days vibes that I think many miss these days lol.

Inevitably most domestic fruiting woody plants need a trim up of pruning for maintenance. Some types don’t need it overall or don’t need it at certain life stages, but those are the lucky cases.

While I’m currently still in the midst of pruning season as of writing this, your photos imply it’s a smidgen late for you to be doing any at all unless it’s either for major issues or dead/diseased wood; it’s generally best to get the pruning before said woody plants leaf out but while they are still dormant to reduce shock, to avoid damaging freshly sprouted growth (since if you’re early enough there’s no leaves to worry about), and keep them wasting energy on wood that’ll be cut off in the process. I recall I got my info on pruning mostly by book literature but I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some niche videos on the topic online- there are yt video journals and tutorials for niche fruits like Asimina triloba cultivation/maintenance so surely less exotic stuff would have online tutorials on it. Do try to find more than one source to try to average out the answers they give lest they give different answers or overlook different details (gardening can get subjective sometimes after all). If I recall the rule for Grape vines you try to keep one “lead vine” intact to be the one to produce new yearly branches/shoots that will then produce the grapes.

Fortunately I think you don’t have to worry about any issues with skipping the livewood pruning this year; let this year just help you get more familiar with what you’re dealing with.

For next year I can at least say from my own experience a few points; universally you want to prune to remove dead, damaged, and diseased wood, as well as any branches that crisscross with each other (since those will just make damaged wood from rubbing if allowed to stay), and generally you try to not cut more than a 3rd of the live growth (even if it means you gotta wait next year to fully shape a tree if the pruning work for some reason is major- which is my case with my older unkempt trees) to avoid having the pruning reach deadly amounts (there are exceptions- most Clematis are pruned to extreme amounts most of the time, well established Grapes and Kiwis can have a lot taken off too in certain cases). Oh and big one that newbies can miss; if you're getting tools, try to get bypass type pruning tools, anvil type pruning tools do damage to live wood (since they crush moreso to cut unlike bypass) and are better for exclusively dead/removed wood.

Observe what others do to their trees of similar kind to your own; I learned a little bit on what to do with my own apple trees from seeing what other people have done to their apple trees of similar size in my region.

It’s not easy at first but set goals for what you’re pruning. In my case a good chunk of my apple trees are quite old (we’re talking hollowed-out old for many of these trees), so my goal is generally to help extend their lives as well as fruit production as a bonus, so I try to reduce the sources of major weight burden on the large crumbling branches. Another goal in my case is making it that the branches are not as high up so that they are easier to maintain and harvest from, since yet again, my trees are on the larger/older end of what to expect from an orchard.

While not an option for me consulting Arborists is definitely not a bad option if you’re free to throw the cash.

Pruning rules/goals for your dwarf apple trees will probably be slightly different from what I do for my own trees since you’re dealing with very different growth forms from my own.

I am not 100% certain your apple trees by the house are dwarves but their growth habit feels more like what I’d expect/imagine from dwarf/semidwarf trees; as to what fruit variety it could be a lot of possibilities; apple trees tend to be grafted onto rootstock that affects their hardiness/size, so you could have similar cultivars to what I have for the fruit/scionwood but would definitely have very different cultivars for the rootstock that they are attached to. If the previous owners knew what they were doing they would’ve chosen dwarf roostock cultivars to avoid them becoming troublesome so close to the house.

In my opinion dwarves or not they are a bit big already to risk moving/transplanting away from the house without a painful and risky amount of long (worst case possibly years worth) of aftercare; if that is or was truly an issue you’d be better off getting new rootstock to plant in the new locations and grafting onto them from the house specimens onto those new rootstocks (you can hire/ask experts if you can’t quite do it yourself, we had a family member of a family member help save a heritage cultivar in our orchard by getting some successful grafts from the dying tree. I plan to do some grafting myself down the road I just dk what to graft rn). I am not familiar with root guard, from what I read it's a brand of fertilizer that claims to help stimulate root growth???

Also note with the Cherry/Plum trees mention before; one of the issues for ID sometimes for them is there’s just, a lot of species, a lot hybridize together, and that’s not even considering/factoring in domestic hybrids/cultivars where the diversity can be as wide as it is for apple cultivars. It can really muddy the waters for identification down to the exact kind unless you’re dealing with a very sharp specialist or a very distinct variety, and even then some may struggle with certain cases.

Lucky you to also have something as fancy as a finger lime! I already guessed so but that definitely solidified my guess that you are in a warmer growing zone from me lol.

[restmyheadatnightcontent]

I can go where life leads me

this another part of my made of love verse ft yen being an idiot and a bit insecure and these two taking the next big step.

this was written for a @geraskeferbingo prompt ‘celebratory kiss’!

_____

“What about this one?” Yennefer asks, turning the laptop around to show Jaskier.

He looks up from where he is sat across from her, possibly writing his reports but also just as likely to be playing some sort of stupid game. “Oooh I like that one. Nice garden.”

“Yeah that’s what I thought. And there’s a study that we could turn into a music room,” she says, clicking her way through the photos. Jaskier doesn’t react to that, so she glances up at him to see him with a confused frown fixed on his face.

“What?” she asks.

“Wouldn’t you rather keep it it as a study though?”

“I’ve got an office at the shop which will be fine,” she explains, but he still looks confused.

“So why put a music room in your house? Surely it would be better used for Ciri.”

“Because it isn’t going to be just my house. And besides Ciri can have the big bedroom so she has room for all her stuff.”

Jaskiers mouth drops open and he lets out a noise that she cannot quite figure out.

“What’s wrong with you?”

His mouth opens and closes silently before he says, “You want me to move in? With you? Like together?”

“Yes, obviously,” she answers, rolling her eyes. “Now please stop gaping like a fish and tell me what you think of this one.”

“Obviously? No, not obviously! You can’t just spring that on me out of nowhere!”

“I asked you last week!”

“No you did not! I’m certain I would have remembered that,”

“I did! When we were having pizza last week. When Ciri was at that sleepover.”

“No you didn’t! We talked about that wedding order you have to fill, and then what I’m going to play at that gig, and then we talked about annoying Sofia’s mum was being and then we watched the film and talked about how much we hated it! Nowhere at any point in the evening did you talk about moving in together!”

She thinks back to that evening, and everything they discussed. She had definitely planned to ask him that evening. She wasn’t going to make a bid deal out of it, knowing that Jaskier was bound to make more than enough of a fuss for both of them.

But now she remembers the doubt that had crept in, the fear that maybe she was moving too fast, that for all his smiles and declarations, that actually he doesn’t feel the same and that she has been fooled, that she has been swept up in his dramatics as so many have been before because for once she had someone who saw her and hadn’t turned and run. She remembers the voice in her head, the one filled with insecurity that hasn’t reared its head in so long, telling her that asking him to move in could, in fact, be a terrible mistake.

And so she hadn’t asked.

Later, she had thought, I’ll ask him later.

Except she never had, had pushed it from her mind, but somehow managed to convince herself that he knew what she was trying to ask, had done what he had done so many times before and looked inside her mind and seen what she had meant to say.

Fuck.

“Fuck, I didn’t.”

“Told you!”

A silence descends over them, one that is tinged with an awkwardness and unease between them that hasn’t been there since they first met. One of the things she liked about Jaskier is that for all he talks, he also listens and can read between the lines she draws, hearing her meaning behind what she says.

She is aware that she is the one that should say something, that she is the one that has caused this – this strange sort of tension between them, which could be easily broken if she only asked now. It would be simple, just one question and they could leave this strange quiet behind them.

But still there is that voice inside her, the one whispering what if, what if, what if-

She prides herself on her bravery, her courage, doing whatever she needs to do to get what she wants, but that courage seems to flee whenever it comes to relationships. It is as though she is a young girl again, hiding away, because hiding was easier than rejection. There is nothing worse, nothing more terrifying than holding herself open, not hiding anything, showing every scar and crack, holding her heart out in trembling hands, offering herself up saying here, here I am, this is me and for them to turn back say no, no, not you.

There have been very few people that have seen her like that, very few people that she has let close enough to try. But Jaskier has been one of them, and she could not bear it if he turned away now, after carving out a space for himself in her life, and that voice inside is just telling her to run, leave now before she can ruin it.

But she cannot listen to that voice anymore.

No, she tells it, I will not run.

Because she knows that Jaskier is just as scared as she is. Unlike her, his fear doesn’t stop him from offering up his heart again and again and again, almost certain that it will be dashed away without a thought, but she knows he lives in dread of the moment that someone will finally give up on him, deem him too much and leave him alone once again.

But he has been brave with her, he has often taken the first step, waited for her to meet him halfway, still that nervous man handing over a bouquet of flowers waiting for her to say yes.

Well now it is her turn to be brave.

She takes a deep breath and asks, “Will you move in with me?”

She expects him to make some sort of joke, to tease her, but he must see the vulnerability in her eyes because for a moment he says nothing. He gets up and comes to kneel in front of her, his hand reaches up to cup her face and he whispers against her lips “I would love nothing more.”

And then he is kissing her, and she winds her fingers into his hair, because she loves him. She loves him, this stupid, ridiculous, annoying idiot of a man, this man who has seen her at her meanest, heard her cutting words and hadn’t run away, had fought back with scathing words of his own. This man who had seen her in her element, but had understood the struggle it had taken for her to get there. The man who had seen her beauty, but looked deeper and seen the pieces of her that she had tried to hide and brought them out to admire. The man who had seen her when she was scared, as she tried to find her feet with parenthood, and hadn’t tried to tell her what to do, but had just stood by her and supported her as she tried to figure it out.

They break apart and she pulls him up and into her lap.

“I can’t believe you want to live with me,” he says, leaning his forehead against her temple, winding his arms around her shoulders.

“Honestly, neither can I,” she replies “Is it too late to take it back?”

He pinches her side and she lets out a sharp laugh, swatting at his hand.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun! I’ve already got so many ideas.  Hypothetically, how would you feel about a lime green kitchen? Because—”

“Oh good lord, what have I done.”

“Hush, darling. You just need to accept that I have superior knowledge about these things due to my incredible taste.”

She just raises an eyebrow and looks pointedly at his horrible patterned shirt with equally garish trousers.

“Just because you can’t appreciate it, doesn’t mean its not fashionable, dear,” he says and then twists and reaches for the laptop that is still sitting on the table. “And this place won’t do.”

“It was fine ten minutes ago,” she points out.

“Yes but that before I was also going to be living there.”

“But it would have been okay for me?”

Before he can panic too much, she rolls her eyes and plants a kiss on his cheek.

They just sit quietly for a few moments, him perched on her lap with her arms held loosely around his waist, but it isn’t a tense quiet like before, just comfortable. They enjoy it and then he breaks it  by turning to her and saying “Thank you for asking me.”

She just tucks her chin on his shoulder and squeezes him tightly. They both know that this is the biggest commitment either of them has made in a long time, and that although it is terrifying, it is less scary knowing that they are doing it together, and she is content to just enjoy this moment, of them taking the plunge together.

[anomander-dragnipurake]

Bowser’s Castle Chapter Two: Cage

Luigi woke to another massive headache – that was apparently just his life now – and the sound of children talking. He really, really didn’t want to wake up but he didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter and the talking was too loud anyway.

“…really King Boo, huh?”

“Yep, he told me so himself when I talked to him.”

“And he’s possessing the green guy? … Or uh… I guess he’s not really green anymore.”

‘No one ever remembers your name, huh? I should’ve pretended to forget too, that would’ve been fun,’ King Boo said. He didn’t move yet though as what had to be Bowser Jr. and the Koopalings continued.

“Yep, that’s what he said. Papa was really mad about it too.”

“Well, it is kind of awful. Like… that’s going too far, I think, right.”

“Way too far for sure. Which is why Dad’s making Kamek fix it even if it means saving green Mario.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to be doing a good job of it so far since King Boo’s still in him.”

‘I’m getting bored of this,’ King Boo said with a sigh before finally opening Luigi’s eyes.

He was lying on his side in a what seemed to be a large metal cage. Bowser Jr. and the Koopalings were indeed the ones speaking. They were pressed up against the cage bars, peeking in as if Luigi was an exotic animal at a sideshow to be gawked at.

King Boo’s attempt to move Luigi’s arm was met with resistance and the clink of metal. Looking down at it… his wrists were in shackles and chained together. Both the chain the manacles were a soft gradient of colours, signifying they were made of magic. A quick check confirmed that his ankles were in near identical confines.

“You’re awake,” one of the Koopa kids said.

“Yep,” King Boo replied as he used his chained hands to push Luigi’s body up into a sitting position. He thankfully didn’t stand up yet but just sitting up made Luigi’s head swim; getting knocked unconscious two times within a couple days of each other was worse than he would’ve thought it’d be. “I presume you brats don’t have the key for these, huh?”

“No,” Bowser Jr., the only one of them Luigi remembered the name of, answered with a growl. “And even if we did, we wouldn’t give it to you.”

“Yeah,” the smallest one with multi-coloured hair agreed. “Our dad, the Koopa King himself, doesn’t like you possessing the green man so you have to stop now. You aren’t allowed to leave until you’ve stopped it.”

“Nah, I’m having too much fun making ‘the green man’ suffer. His misery is quite delightful, all you forgetting about him all the time have really been missing out.”

That earned some looks of anger and discomfort. Great, Luigi’s situation was so pitiful and awful even Bowser’s children were made uncomfortable by witnessing it. Before any of them could respond though, the sound of a door opening came from behind them followed by…

“What the heck do you think you kids are doing in here?” … That voice was familiar but Luigi couldn’t quite place it right now.

Bowser Jr. and company snapped around though. “But this is your lab so…” Bowser Jr. began before being interrupted.

“I don’t care, he’s still a prisoner and none of you are allowed near the prisoners so get out before I tell your father.” That sent them off, muttering with discontent under their breath. As soon as they were away from the cage Luigi could finally see that the speaker was Kamek, unsurprising in hindsight.

It also gave Luigi a better view of the room. There were bookshelves and a pair of tables creating an angle that were covered in various objects that Luigi lacked the curiosity to even determine what were even if he had control of where he looked. The cage he was in was to the side of the room, probably pressed against a wall.

Once the final Koopa kid was out of the room, Kamek closed the door and approached the cage. “Good, you’re finally awake, now do me a favor King Boo and just fuck off.”

King Boo of course didn’t oblige him, instead he chuckled. “Wow, everyone sure seems to want me out of this meatsuit.”

“Personally, I find what you’re doing to be distasteful but I don’t really care enough to do anything about it. However, Lord Bowser does and thus I have been tasked with getting rid of you so make it easier on both of us and just leave already.” He sounded tired as if he honestly didn’t care that much which probably didn’t bode well for Luigi. But then again, because he didn’t care, King Boo threatening or doing anything to hurt Luigi wouldn’t sway him much so… maybe that was a good thing?

‘Hmmm… should I let him kill you to be rid of me? Because that’s the only way he can accomplish that task. Or should I escape and find more fun things to do with you?’

Escape! Even with how miserable Luigi was he wasn’t ready to die yet and as long as he was alive there was a chance Mario and E. Gadd would pull through for him and save him. Please escape! It’ll be more fun, right? To save himself he would totally try to appeal to King Boo’s sensibilities even if they were awful in every possible way. It was better than dying though… right?

‘You’re right, I can’t let the fun end so soon. There are a number of things only the living can experience that I’d like to try before this game ends.’ With a chuckle he grabbed one of the cage bars in front of him and used it to pull Luigi’s body into a standing position.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said, smirking down at Kamek, “but I have places to be and things to do.” He looked down the magic manacles on his wrists and… nothing happened. As the silence stretched an echo of sudden worry came from him that made Luigi a tad worried as well because why would he suddenly be worried?

“Ha!” Now it was Kamek’s turn for a smug grin. “You really think I wouldn’t be prepared to contain you? You were out for hours, more than long enough for me to craft some manacles that can contain even your magic. You can’t do anything other than leave so hop on out already, your game’s done.”

King Boo growled at him. “How dare you?”

“Yeah, uh-huh, you’re mad, I don’t care. You can’t do anything about it as long as you’re still possessing him though so either get over it or leave.”

There was another few seconds of silence from King Boo before he growled both internally as well as out loud. ‘You’re lucky; he even made it so I can’t use magic to kill you or you’d be dead right now.’

Oh dear! That was scary. It might’ve been unintentional on Kamek’s part but it didn’t matter, Luigi suddenly had a significant amount of gratitude directed at him. And maybe, just maybe, he might actually make King Boo leave.

“NO!” King Boo gripped the cage bars tight enough to hurt Luigi’s hands as he glared hate-filled daggers at Kamek through them. “I’m not leaving.”

Unphased, Kamek shook his head slightly. “You’re going to be stubborn and petty now? Fine, go ahead, it certainly wouldn’t be the first temper tantrum I’ve had to deal with. Tell me when you’re ready to be reasonable.” He turned away to go over to the tables a short distance away and sit down. Then, he casually pulled a book off one of the piles of them in front of him, flipped to a page nearing the middle and started reading.

“Fuck you!” King Boo growled again.

Kamek didn’t even look up from his book.

‘I refuse to let him win. This is my game and my victory; It ends on my terms! I’m not letting some shitty wizard tell me what to do. Either I’m going to break out of out or you’re going to die trying.’

Please no. Luigi begged even while knowing it’d be no use. He was doomed.

 -

According to King Boo, breaking the chains holding the manacles together should be enough to dispel them completely, allowing him to use magic again. Naturally he started with the wrist chains. First, he tried pulling his hands apart as he somehow thought Luigi might be strong enough to physically break the chain. All it did was hurt though but thankfully he gave up on it soon. Only to switch to pulling the chain taunt as was possible and bashing it into the cage bars. The cage was clearly meant for a large animal and thus there was just enough room for Luigi’s fists to fit through the gaps in the bars, making it an almost viable strategy. But again, mostly it just hurt and Luigi lacked the physical strength to make any real progress in that regard. Thus, King Boo eventually settled on standing in front the bars, hands partway through the gaps allowing him to firmly press the chain against the metal bar and rub it up and down, creating an awful scraping noise.

The manacles weren’t super tight but they were far from loose; the way King Boo held and moved his hands made them dig and chafe painfully against Luigi’s wrists. It wasn’t long before they both started bleeding. Plus the one on the arm Polterpup had bitten was close enough to that wound to cause it to partially reopen again as well after a while.

Coupled with the pounding headache, dizziness, and not having had anything to eat in days and nothing to drink in an almost equal amount of time it was torturous enough to make Luigi want to beg for mercy. The only thing stopping him was the fact that King Boo would enjoy it which could only increase the chances of him continuing this wretched game of his.

It went on for… ages. The horrid wretched sound of the chain scraping against the metal bar seemed to blend together into one continuous sound. Luigi’s arms grew tired too, painfully so, mounting onto his misery. But, every so often, King Boo stopped to check the chain; even covered in Luigi’s blood, it was clear he was making slow but steady progress in wearing it away.

The whole time Kamek read, sitting in his chair, seemingly not bothered by the sound of the wretched scraping. If he glanced over at the cage at all, it wasn’t when King Boo wasn’t looking at him. And if he responded to any of King Boo’s occasional insults and/or threats it was merely with a distracted hum of acknowledgement and nothing more.

As far as Luigi could tell, it might’ve been a few hours or a full day before something new finally happened.

The door opened with an unnecessary amount of force and… in came Bowser. “Did you fix it yet?” He sounded impatient.

King Boo didn’t even pause in his grinding. Kamek however snapped right around and stood up.

“Not yet my liege,” he said. “I have defeated him though so it is only a matter of time until he gives up and leaves.”

Bowser let out an angry huff. “I said I wanted it fixed yesterday.” He strode over to glare down at Luigi through the cage bars.

King Boo grinned back up at him, still grinding away. “You’re not going to have your way,” he said, all his rage at having been temporarily bested drained away for now. ‘I’ve been a ghost for a long time, I can outlast any living being in a game of patience. The only question is are you are going to live long for me do to so?’

Luigi could only whimper at that. He was already at his limit, beyond it actually. Dying now would probably be a mercy if this were to continue much longer.

“My lord, I assure you, I’ve done all I can,” Kamek said as he walked over to stand beside Bowser. “My magic isn’t strong enough to force him out but this should work… eventually. He’s grinding away the chain but his ankles are chained too and I already have a spare one made so it should be fine.”

“If you even try to put it on me, I’ll bite your hands off,” King Boo said in an almost casual tone.

“He’ll tire of this eventually sir and then the problem will be solved. Though, now that I think about it, that might not happen until the green Mario brother dies which would be less than ideal but I’m not sure there’s much that can be done about that.”

Bowser crossed his arms as he glared down at King Boo. He seemed to be thinking hard about something but Luigi didn’t exactly have the mental energy to try to guess what it might be or even whether or not it might be good or bad. Probably bad because everything was bad lately.

“Actually,” Kamek continued, “killing him outright might be the best solution. If he’s likely to die anyway, we should maybe just put him out of his misery.”

Yep, this was where and how Luigi was going to die. All he could really hope for was that it’d be quick and painless.

Bowser growled softly, breathing out a puff of smoke before finally speaking. “No, I can handle King Boo without that, unlock the cage.”

“But sir…”

“I said unlock it.”

“On it, your royal spikiness.” Kamek hurriedly reached into his robe to pull out a key and unlock the cage.

King Boo frowned as the bar he was grinding the chain into pulled away. Before he could say anything though, verbally or internally to Luigi, Bowser reached in pick him up by the neck again.

“I swear I got to do everything myself around here,” he said with a low growl under his breath as he lifted and pulled Luigi out. He then slammed Luigi’s back into a wall; it hurt but pain seemed to be just a state of being right now anyway so Luigi had trouble caring as much as he should’ve. “Stop it, right now.” He growled low in Luigi’s face.

“Why do you care so much?” King Boo asked with a grin.

“None of your business!” Bowser growled again. … Luigi knew the answer to that question though, didn’t he? Bowser had been possessed too once, for different reasons but still it had to have been pretty awful. Having no control whatsoever of one’s body was terrible all by itself. Possibly enough so that even someone like Bowser would take offense to seeing that happen to someone else after personally experiencing it.

‘Oh? Interesting! How had I not heard of this?’ Oh no! King Boo knowing probably wasn’t good. “Reading Luigi’s mind just got me an interesting bit of information, apparently you’ve been possessed before too. What were the circumstances surrounding…”

With another growl Bowser slammed him into the wall again. “Shut up! That’s none of your business!” He was squeezing Luigi’s throat a bit too tight now, making it hard to breathe. Had he changed his mind about not mercy killing Luigi? “Now leave!” Sparks danced in Luigi’s vision as Bowser slammed him into a third time. King Boo fought the urge to pass out though which really, really sucked.

“Uh sir…” Kamek’s voice sounded far away now. “You’re not doing anything to hurt King Boo, you’re just hurting Green ‘Stache which I’m sure you can tell from the state of his wrists, doesn’t bother King Boo much if at all.”

Thankfully, or maybe not because unconsciousness would’ve been nice, Bowser’s grip loosened, allowing Luigi to breath properly again. He would’ve gasped for air but, mostly unbothered by the body’s needs, King Boo didn’t. Instead he grinned. “There’s nothing you can do to hurt me either. I’d tell you not to bother trying but you’re a bit too dumb to listen.”

That earned another angry growl but thankfully no more squeezing or being slammed into the wall, just pressed into it. “Nothing, huh? We’ll see about that.” Bowser’s eyes roved up and down Luigi’s body before coming to a rest on something just above his head… King Boo’s crown. “How ‘bout this?” He reached up his other hand to grasp it. From the way his arm bulged it was clear he was squeezing it.

“You really think you can break it?” King Boo scoffed.

Bowser’s only response was an angry puff of smoke and a grunt as he started squeezing harder, pressing Luigi’s body more firmly into the wall.

‘He’s lucky I’m still wearing Kamek’s stupid fucking magic blocking shit or he’d be paying for even daring to try…’

There was a loud sound like a stone breaking or… a magic gemstone starting to crack under pressure. Luigi could sense an echo of King Boo’s sudden fear and anger.

“How dare you!” He growled and even made an almost hissing noise as he reached Luigi’s hands up to paw at Bowser’s arm crushing his crown. But restrained both physically and magically, there was nothing he could do.  “Stop it right now!”

Bowser let out a satisfied huff as the muscles in his arm bulged even more. He was really going to do it! Luigi almost didn’t dare actually hope for it but…

Another crack, this one even louder than the first. Then… a strange pulling sensation followed by blackness.

 -

He came too once more after what had to be an unfortunately short time, judging by the amount of pain he was still in. Lying on the floor again, everything hurt, especially his arms and head but… King Boo was gone. He shifted to test it and… yes, King Boo was gone.

Tearing up with relief, he forced open his eyes. He couldn’t make much sense of the scene before him but King Boo was there. He’d seemingly been back into a corner by a barrage of fire balls and magic missiles. His crown riddled with cracks, several of them quite large, crackled wildly with magic, seemingly beyond his control as it didn’t seem to be doing anything other than cast a flickering purple light over everything.

“This isn’t over!” he shouted, seemingly looking right at Luigi before phasing through the wall behind him.

Bowser ran over to punch that wall hard enough to shake the whole room and make a small dent. Despite that, Luigi could’ve hugged him in that moment, he was so grateful. He honestly didn’t care that he was indebted to him now. He was just relieved to be free of King Boo at last.

Kamek turned to face him again first. Pulling something out of a pocket he walked over and bent down to… unlock the chains on Luigi’s ankles and then his wrists. He grimaced and even winced a little as he pulled the latter way but didn’t say anything.

Going against better judgement, Luigi moved his arms up, dragging them across the floor – they felt like jelly after what King Boo had put him through – so his wrists were in his line of sight. He winced too, a low whine escaping him. They looked even worse than they felt which was already bad enough; even with all the blood, the marks where the manacles had been were still clearly visible. It made him feel sick but… at the same time, he was free of King Boo. That alone was enough to make him tremble in relief.

“As always your highness you have managed to find a brute force solution to the problem that I never would’ve thought of, you never cease to amaze,” Kamek said as he hovered over Luigi. “Now however, we have another problem on ours hands: what do we do with Mario’s brother?”

“Heh, I should’ve just done that to begin with instead trusting you to do anything,” Bowser said as he stomped over to loom over Luigi as well. He opened his mouth to say more but before he could…

“Thank you.” Luigi tried to pushed himself more upright but it hurt too much move and his arms and wrists hurt too much. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he muttered looking up at Bowser while lying on the floor instead. He’d intended to say more than just ‘thank you’ but that was all he could think to say right now.

He looked almost stunned for a moment before a smug grin spread across his face. “Yes, be grateful little green man, I saved you. And that,” he turned his head to address Kamek, “means he’s mine now.”

“Uh sir, while that logic works for stray cats and orphaned children, I’m not sure if it applies here.”

“Why wouldn’t it? It’s the same thing, I saved him so I’m responsible for his life now.”

“Um… you know what sure, you saved him so he’s yours now. That doesn’t answer the question of what do we do with him now though. Do we make him our prisoner and use him against Mario and the Mushroom Kingdom? Do we let him stay in the castle as a guest and tend to his wounds? Or do we send him back to Mario either on his own, which I doubt he’d make it all that way in this state, or with someone to transport him?”

Luigi didn’t dare cut in to try to suggest anything or plead for mercy, lest it weigh the odds against him. It’d be just his luck to be become Bowser’s prisoner after all this though. There was no way he could take that, hadn’t he already suffered more than enough?

Bowser let out another huff. “He’s mine now so we keep him. Come one Green ‘Stache, let’s go.” He bent down to pick Luigi up and though he wasn’t particularly gentle, he wasn’t rough either as he lifted him up and draped him of his shoulder, keeping one hand on his back to hold him there.

Given that that answer didn’t give much of an indication as to whether Luigi was a guest or prisoner maybe he shouldn’t be correcting Bowser but… “My name’s ‘Luigi’.” He was too exhausted to care about the potential consequences, he just wanted to be called by name.

Already marching out of the room, Bowser grunted. “All right Luigi, let’ go then.” That had to be a good sign, right? Maybe.

Out in what appeared to be a hall, Kamek strode right behind Bowser. Dangling limp over Bowser’s shoulder, Luigi was the perfect place to converse with him. “So… does this mean I’m a prisoner or… what?”

“You’re a guest,” Kamek said. “Meaning you’ll be provided with medical care and a guest room.”

“Oh… good, thanks.” Luigi again trembled and teared up with relief. The nightmare was indeed over. Under different circumstances, the prospect of being a guest in Bowser’s castle wouldn’t sent him running but right now, he didn’t care even a little. He might have cause to later but he didn’t have the energy to worry about later. “Thank you.”

“In case you were wondering, this mindset is why Lord Bowser has so many adopted children. He saves them from this or that thing and then basically does this with them. I don’t know what that means for you but there you go.”

“Wait, they’re adopted?” Luigi had never given much thought to where they’d come from or why.

“All but Junior,” Bowser answered, sounding proud of it as he patted his hand on Luigi’s back.

“Hmm… that’s kind of sweet actually.” Not what Luigi would’ve expected from Bowser.

Bowser grunted acknowledgment but otherwise didn’t reply. Which was the end of the conversation as safe as he could be for now and soothed by the steady rhythm of Bowser’s walking, Luigi soon started drifting off. He’d have to contact Mario and E. Gadd to let them know King Boo was dealt with… for now anyway; he’d be back eventually and would need to be dealt with again, hopefully in a more permanent way. But those were things to worry about later, for now he was just relieved to be free and in desperate need of some rest even if he was literally in Bowser’s clutches. But maybe being in Bowser’s clutches wasn’t so bad, it certainly seemed rather nice right now.

~

The number one reason I didn't allow this to transform into a slow burn Bowuigi fic is because I need to start working on Halloween fics and following that, at the start of November I gotta start working on X-mas fics. So, right now is not a good time for me to be taking on a big slow burn project like that. Once all the holiday stuff is done however, if I still have the inspiration for it I might start up a third installment that's a hurt/comfort Bowuigi slow burn fic, probably with King Boo trying to come back for revenge. That is a big maybe though so we'll see.

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

The Whole Truth - 6

(This chapter is another long one, so use this AO3 link to read more comfortably, or catch up on any you missed! Aziraphale and Crowley find a solution to the curse problem...)

Friday

“Good morning, dear,” Aziraphale said, soft and gentle, when Crowley finally started to stir. He kissed the demon’s forehead, then his nose. “You’re so lovely when you sleep. So warm. So—”

“Knock it off,” Crowley mumbled with a sleep-heavy smile. “Ruin my reputation.”

“You’re a very heavy sleeper, you know,” Aziraphale continued, feeling perfectly content. Some time ago, he’d sat up against the headboard and Crowley had immediately shifted, curling up to lay in his lap. It made for a stunning contrast, the black clothes and red hair against the white duvet.

Aziraphale leaned down and pressed his lips against Crowley again, the temple, then the cheek, the jaw. “I’m going to kiss you today, my love,” he said calmly, though Crowley’s eyes opened in alarm. “I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Do you…still want me to stop you?” The back of his fingers brushed Aziraphale’s cheek.

“No. I don’t want that at all. But I still think it’s the best idea. Also, I needed a distraction, so your hair is ruined. I’m not sorry, though, and I’m sure you told me bed hair is popular. This probably isn’t what it means, but you could start a new trend.”

Crowley pressed a finger to Aziraphale’s lips, but he was smiling, and his eyes were gentle. “I have things to tell you. But we should get up first.” Crowley sat up, causing his hair to shift. It flared out in every direction, in spikes and waves that defied gravity. Aziraphale’s fingers had been very busy for nearly an hour. Crowley patted at the hopeless mess. “I need to fix this. Then we talk.”

 --

Crowley entered the kitchen just as Aziraphale was setting his omelet on the table. “Sorry, dearest, I know I didn’t ask to use your stove, but as I said…distractions.” He glanced up and, oh dear, Crowley had changed his hair into loose waves and curls again. Aziraphale’s fingers ached to reach for it, to see how much softer it was without all that product in it to keep it in place…

He quickly sat down and started eating.

“How are you feeling? You know, aside from…”

“Aside from the need to constantly assure you of the depth of my love? It is truly fathomless. Do you remember, back in Rome—”

“Yes, besides that.” Crowley still hovered back by the counter, looking nervous.

“I feel…anxious. Defenseless. I’m very much afraid every time I begin to speak, not knowing quite what I’ll say or do. And when I remember this isn’t some random chance, that it was a deliberate attack by a demon, even if directed at another angel, I feel…” he tapped his fork against the plate. “I feel violated.” A weak smile. “And yet, so very glad you’re here, my dear.”

“Angel, I don’t…” Crowley sank into a chair facing Aziraphale, clearing his throat nervously. “You’re not going to like what I say next.”

“Well, I’m already disappointed in this conversation.” He said breezily, watching with horror as his mind hopped to another subject. “I was hoping you would sit in my lap. Next time I’ll have to hide the other chairs.” Oh, not again. He resumed eating with frantic speed.

Long fingers moved across the table and grasped his free hand. “Aziraphale…there isn’t a demonic curse on that book.”

“I beg your pardon?” Aziraphale put his fork down, very nearly pulled his hand away. But then Crowley squeezed his fingers and he decided he would never let go for the rest of eternity. “Yesterday, I cornered someone outside a coffee shop and told them in exquisite detail about the time you and I met Christopher Marlowe. I told a customer on Tuesday that he couldn’t purchase a book because I didn’t like the way he smelled. And just now I have the overwhelming urge to tell you I once spent a century trying to teach myself to draw just so I could have an image of you, but I could never quite get the nose right; but now the lighting in this room is absolutely perfect and I want to try again with you in front of me and – Crowley, how can you say this isn’t a curse?”

The demon calmly waited for the words to subside, then inched his chair closer, closer, until their knees brushed under the table, until he could reach around the plate and take Aziraphale’s other hand as well.

“I said it’s not a demonic curse. And it’s…a human curse wouldn’t affect you. Which leaves…”

“Angels? No, we don’t – angels don’t make cursed objects.” He tried to pick up his fork, to indicate that the matter was closed, but his mouth refused to play along. “I suppose we could. I mean, what’s really the difference between a cursed item and a blessed one?” The horrifying thoughts rose in his mind, one after the next. “I’ve – I’ve certainly done my share of curses, covering for you. They aren’t structurally all that different. And I’ve seen angels create objects that heal, or deliver inspiration…ones that can be used to locate and identify wicked or deceitful beings…oh, Lord.”

His hands convulsed, and Crowley held them, tighter. “I know, Angel, I know…”

“It forces you to tell the truth. To confront secrets you hide from yourself.” His stomach twisted. “That’s not demonic at all. How did I…I’m so stupid. How could I miss something like that?”

“No, come here—” With a tug, he guided Aziraphale over to him, pulled the angel into his lap, wrapped arms around him. “You were looking at the book, not the magic. Like you said last night – it was the perfect trap. For you. A mystery you couldn’t quite solve. How were you supposed to resist? And the longer you touched it, the stronger the compulsion.”

“I’m…the target?” His mind whirled, even worse than before he’d slept. “But who…why…no, the raid…”

“There was never any raid, Angel. Everything’s been quiet on our end for months. It was all a lie.”

“A…another angel…did this to me? On purpose?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Don’t cry, Aziraphale, please.”

“I’m…” Aziraphale sniffed, and realized his cheeks were drenched with tears. When had that started? He wasn’t upset, or angry. He felt strangely calm inside.

No, not calm. Numb.

Crowley held him closer, rocked him, pushed Aziraphale’s head down to rest on his shoulder.

“Have to tell Gabriel. He’ll help me. Always so…so kind. Gives me…so many chances…when I fail, or…or…” He shut his eyes. “He’ll help me…”

“Angel. He gave you the book.”

“No, he…he can’t know. He’s an Archangel, they…they watch over us…care for us…”

Crowley’s lips against his forehead. “I’m sorry. The – the blessing…it’s too strong. One of the Archangels created it.”

“He said if – if I tried to remove the curse, I’d be incinerated. Never even checked for myself.” Stupid, stupid angel. “If it were true…I’d…I’d have felt it immediately, wouldn’t I? Like you did?”

“Yes, but – you’re not – you’re not experienced with these things. You didn’t know you were supposed to feel anything.”

“Gabriel called me an expert. Asked me for a favor. I was so proud. I want…wanted to prove myself…”

“I know. I know.”

Crowley held him, and Aziraphale cried, quietly, his heart breaking into pieces.

--

“So, what do we do?” Aziraphale and Crowley sat on the sofa, an hour later. Aziraphale tried very hard to watch Crowley’s eyes, but his own gaze kept drifting down, just a few inches.

It wasn’t that unusual. He often watched Crowley’s lips when he spoke; with his eyes usually hidden, the best way to catch what the demon was thinking was by those tiny quirks of the lip, the little smirks and frowns at the edges of his usual scowl.

And if Aziraphale wanted to press his lips to the corner of that mouth now…

“Well,” Crowley was saying, and Aziraphale pulled his gaze back up, trying to focus. “I can’t take the blessing off the book. Gabriel might have exaggerated, but it’s still more than either of us can handle.”

“What if we worked together? Combined our powers somehow?”

“Probably make it worse.” Crowley’s lips twitched just a bit, a hint of a smile. “These things are delicate, and combining angel and demon powers…”

“I suppose you’re right.” The tip of Crowley’s tongue appeared, just for a fraction of a second, wetting his lips, and Aziraphale’s own tongue moved in sympathy. Just a little quick kiss, right there at the side of the mouth, what would it hurt? He loved Crowley so much he was about to burst—

“Oh, come here,” Aziraphale snapped, pulling Crowley down to lay across his lap, gliding his fingers through that hair. It was even softer than he’d imagined, strands separating and flowing like water. “Sorry. I hope you don’t mind, but I can’t focus on anything right now, apart from making sure you know how very much I love you. And on how, ironically, that thought is going to get us both killed.”

“I don’t mind,” Crowley sighed, settling against his thighs. “Do your worst, that’s what it’s there for.”

Aziraphale sank both hands into those thick red tresses, running through them from root to tip. “Oh, God, I love you.” He closed his eyes, absorbed in the luxuriant feel. “So, if we can’t take the curse – blessing, I mean – off the book, can we take it off me?”

“That’s easier, generally,” Crowley agreed. “Not even that complicated, it’s like…untying a knot. But this one’s stronger than anything I’ve seen. It’d take years. Decades, maybe.”

“Well, we have six hours. Possibly a bit more, Gabriel always runs late when I’m expecting him.” He tilted his head back to look at the corner, where brilliant white wall met brilliant white ceiling, and ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair again. “Which I’m now realizing is probably not just an unfortunate coincidence, is it? It makes me feel like I’m some – some irritation, like I have to state my business as quickly as possible so he can go back to more important things, apologize for taking up his time, and of course that’s what he wants. Why did I never realize? Why am I so naïve?”

“You’re an angel. You trust the people you’re supposed to trust.” His fingers reached up to brush Aziraphale’s chin, and the angel immediately turned to kiss them, reveling in their slightly salty taste. “Sorry.” Crowley pulled away. “Any idea why he would do this now?”

“Well…I have been avoiding work rather thoroughly lately.” He smiled down at Crowley. “Ever since we reconnected, almost thirty years ago, I’ve been finding every excuse to spend time with you.”

“I thought as much.” Crowley’s fingers traced across his waistcoat, and even through all the layers, it made him shiver. “I mean oh, Crowley, I’m not going to be at the bookshop tonight, I have a reservation at my favorite sushi restaurant. So if you’re planning to bother me, don’t come here. Not exactly subtle.”

“It worked, though, and you showed up in that lovely dress, which I wasn’t expecting at all, black with the embroidered red flowers, your hair all up in a knot. You were beautiful, darling, don’t even try to deny it, I could hardly take my eyes off you all evening and…” Aziraphale bit off the rest of his words. “Yes, well. I have avoided at least…eight assignments that would have taken me outside of London for considerable lengths of time. I couldn’t bear to be apart from you. I suppose my excuses have been rather transparent of late – I told Gabriel I couldn’t go to America because the London sewers were…er…on fire.”

Crowley tipped his head back and laughed, sliding across Aziraphale’s thighs. “He might have started to catch on at that point. But it’s still just a few missed jobs.”

“It’s disobedience.” One finger scratched near Crowley’s ear, and the demon purred. “He doesn’t really need more than that, does he?”

“Nnnnh. Is there more?”

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s fingers brushed through his hair again. “Centuries of it. Long before the Arrangement. I’ve had doubts. I’ve avoided assignments. I…never questioned, but I’ve come close, skirted the line, pushed the boundaries.” Anxious hands twitched. “Has it finally become too much? Has he been trying to catch me out for centuries, and I’ve just been too stupid to notice?”

“Stop saying that, Angel. We both know how clever you are. If he’s trying this on you now, it must mean that in six thousand years, he’s never had anything to go on. That’s good.”

“Whatever he’s looking for, Gabriel’s going to uncover a great deal more tonight than he ever expected.” The panic began climbing its way up his throat again. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m going to betray you, Crowley. I can feel it. I’m going to tell him everything.”

“Look, even if you can’t lie, you can twist it around. Make it sound like all those restaurants and bars and wine tastings and movies and walks in the park were just by yourself?” His thumb caught one of the buttons and rolled across it. “I don’t know how much trouble you’ll be in, but…if they don’t know about me, it won’t be as bad.”

“Impossible.” Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and raised it to his lips again, kissing each knuckle. “Two days ago, I could resist, perhaps, but not anymore. And what if it keeps getting worse? Imagine what I’ll be like in a week…I’ll happily confess to everything.” He thought Crowley’s fingers were trembling, but no – it was his own hand, holding them. “Do you…do you think I’ll Fall? No, that would just send me to you, and I’m starting to believe Gabriel isn’t even that kind. He’ll…he’ll destroy me. No, he’ll destroy you, in front of me, so I can—”

“Angel, shhh, it’s not going to come to that.”

“I won’t let him, Crowley. I told you, I’ll never let them hurt you, I meant it.”

“Shhh.” Crowley tugged his hand, pulling Aziraphale’s towards him, pressing it open to lay kisses on his palm. “There is…one other option. But you’re going to hate it.”

A choked laugh. “Crowley, I’ve hated every one of your ideas for the past six thousand years, and yet I’ve always gone along with them.”

“Because I’m usually right?”

“No, because I’m in love with an idiot.” He bent over with a smile, kissing Crowley’s forehead, then kept going, a line of kisses – the brow, that perfect nose, and…

Crowley put a hand on Aziraphale’s chest, stopping him, holding him back as their breath caressed each other’s lips. “You said you shouldn’t,” Crowley reminded him.

“I know. I shouldn’t. But I want to, my darling, dearest Crowley. I want to kiss you right now, and kiss you until you can’t breathe, and – and – and – I haven’t actually considered what comes next, but we have six hours until we die, we can figure it out. Let’s go back to bed, stay there to the end. Let me groom your wings, let me touch you, I need to tell you, to show you—”

A thumb gently brushed across his lips, though Crowley’s face had gone quite red. Aziraphale was sure his own matched. “Angel,” and his voice sounded a little strained now. “We aren’t going to die.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll find a way to keep you safe. If you return to Hell, you should be…no, the rumors will reach them soon enough. You must leave. What’s that star system you always talk about? Alpha Centauri? Start there, and—”

“A-zir-a-phale,” Crowley drew the name out. “I’m not going anywhere. You said you’d let me be there for you.” The angel nodded weakly. “Neither of us is going to die, because I know how to stop this. I have a plan. But you’ll have to trust me. And stop squeezing me like that.”

Aziraphale realized his arms were clutching at Crowley protectively. He let go, and the demon sat up, resettling on the sofa next to him. Crowley picked up the angel’s hand, pressing it between both of his. “Alright. The blessing has infected your mind. I can’t untangle it fast enough. But I can isolate it, I can pull it out. You’ll go back to the way you’ve always been.”

“Just…like that? It seems too easy.”

“Well, there are a few problems. I’ll need to put it somewhere…so I’ll take it on myself.”

“What? No!” Aziraphale jerked back, but Crowley still held his hand. “That’s – that’s absurd, Crowley, it’s far too dangerous and furthermore, it won’t work at all, as you’d just – just go around babbling to everyone, and your superiors will find out anyway. No, I forbid it.”

Crowley shook his head. “This blessing was designed for you, fed by the time you spent bent over that book, handling it, breathing it in. I barely touched the thing, it’ll be weaker for me. I won’t be able to lie to you, but that should be the only effect.” He smiled. “Won’t even notice the difference. I’ve never lied to you.”

Aziraphale felt his smile return. “Not ever? Even when you said – no, no it’s not important. I’ll concede, it might work, but we obviously can’t stay that way.” He leaned forward eagerly, squeezing Crowley’s hand. “I’ll find a way to undo it. You said years, decades, but I have hundreds of reference tomes in the shop. Surely I can find a way to—”

Crowley lifted Aziraphale’s hand and kissed it. “It’s, um, more an art than a science. You leave that to me. Especially because…because when I take the curse, I’m going to remove all the memories connected to it.”

“No.” This time Aziraphale pulled away, sliding back across the sofa, trying to escape Crowley’s words. “Take my memories? All this last week?” What was his heart doing? His breath? Lord, he was dying right now, every muscle in his body tense and straining. “All those things you said – everything we – you told me you love me. I won’t…you can’t take this from me, Crowley. I won’t allow it.”

“It’s the only way.” Crowley inched towards him, and Aziraphale felt his panic rising. He shrank back, hiding behind his hands, pushing the truth away. “You said – Angel, you said you’d die to keep me safe. But this way no one has to die, or get hurt, or…”

“Dying would be easier! Crowley, I can’t go back to – to not knowing!”

“Look, I can – I can say it again, Angel. Tell you properly this time, take you out for dinner—”

“No, no, I won’t want to hear it, I’ll just – I’ll reject you,” he realized with horror. “Oh, Crowley, I’m sorry, I swear, I’ll think I’m doing it to protect you. You must understand that I – I won’t mean it, but I will...”

“So, I can…I can explain. Tell you about the book and Gabriel and—”

“And I won’t believe you. Oh, Lord, Crowley, I’m going to trust him again. After everything he did…” Aziraphale hunched over himself, arms pressed to his chest, heart palpitating. “I can’t…can’t go back to that…” He could picture himself, following Gabriel around like a puppy, not even aware of how many times he’d been kicked. Had the Archangel ever liked him?

“There’s got to be something we can do. Write yourself a letter, make a video, tell me something only you would know…”

“And then what? Once I’m convinced, I’ll – can you return the memories? That’s what I’ll ask.”

“Yes. I'm not - they won't be destroyed, I'll just be holding them for a while.” Aziraphale felt himself begin to relax. Put that way, it sounded...not good, but at least not terrifying. “But until I’ve removed the blessing you’ll just…wind up like this again. Back where we started.”

“And how long will that take? You said decades…”

“Twenty years,” Crowley shrugged. “Maybe thirty. As I said, untying a knot – if you rush it, it gets worse.”

“That isn’t…so bad,” Aziraphale admitted, rubbing a hand across his face. “But that means…oh, Lord, we’re going to do this, aren’t we?” He moved back across the sofa, set his head on Crowley’s shoulder. “It means you can’t tell me. Not until the memories are ready, because I’ll just insist you return them immediately. And round and round we’ll go. So, you can’t tell me about the curse, or about Gabriel, or…or even…”

“That I love you,” Crowley half-swallowed the word, as if it hurt. He slid his arm around Aziraphale’s waist and pressed his lips to the angel’s temple. “And I’ll have to stand by while you try to please that – that – that—”

“That arrogant sod? That self-righteous pus stain? That condescending, pusillanimous, egotistical, cold-hearted—”

“I was going to say ‘bastard.’ Or maybe ‘wank-wings.’ Where did you even learn that sort of language?”

“I read, darling.” Aziraphale sighed, leaning into his embrace. “We’ve waited six thousand years. What’s twenty more?” He picked up Crowley’s hand and studied it. “Can you restore them as soon as they’re ready?”

“Technically, yes. But even with the blessing removed, you’ll probably be unable to lie for a day or two. Residue. I’ll have to wait until we’re somewhere we won’t be disturbed. And you can be very stubborn about going off the grid.”

“Then try not make it sound like some – some illicit activity and maybe I’ll come along.” He kissed Crowley’s cheek. “And do be sure there’s at least a double bed. Oh, don’t blush so. I don’t plan to let go of you for two days, it’ll need to be big enough for me to hold you while you sleep.” He remembered the way Crowley had looked, in the dawn light, nestled in his arms, and he would happily have lived in that moment for eternity.

They sat together for a few minutes, not talking, just feeling the love flow between them. It was the most honest Aziraphale had ever been.

“So,” he finally broke the silence. “How long will this take?”

“Extracting the blessing and memories – maybe an hour? And you’ll need to rest at least an hour more while your mind recovers.”

“That leaves us…four hours.” He rested his hand on Crowley’s knee. “Closer to three and a half. And I think I’d rather make the most of that time.”

Crowley swallowed, fingers twitching nervously. “Anything you want, Angel.”

“Anything?” He tilted his head up to meet those golden eyes and grinned wickedly. “Anything at all?”

--

Eliza looked at the earrings in the glass counter of the pawn shop. “I mean, they look nice,” she grumbled, “but I still think mom would rather have a watch for her birthday.”

“Would she?” her sister smirked. “Or are you just saying that because the earrings cost more, and you want to go see that band? You know, with that cute drummer from your Uni? What’s their name…?”

“Not everything is about romance, Rebecca,” she said, blushing. “They’re just – it’s a good band, ok? And, yeah, tickets are fifty quid, and the bakery doesn’t pay that well, so—”

The door of the pawn shop flew open and two men walked in – the pale figure Eliza recognized from the bakery, and a tall, lanky bloke with red hair.

“Attention everyone!” The bookseller called cheerfully. “I am Aziraphale, owner and proprietor of A.Z. Fell’s in Soho, which is a perfectly wonderful pseudonym, despite all complaints I have received. This exquisite creature is Anthony J. Crowley, my best friend, the love of my life, and the most darling being in the entire world. We are here to celebrate a love that is entwined into the whole of human history, and anyone who wishes to join us is invited to meet at the duck pond in St James’s Park in half an hour. Anyone who does not approve is invited to go sit on an egg!” He beamed proudly at the man beside him, whose face was almost as red as his hair.

“Yeah, I still don’t think you have that last part right, Angel.”

“Nonsense, what could be more unpleasant than sitting on an egg? You, good sir!” He pointed to the owner of the shop. “We are here to look at jewelry!”

Eliza sighed and turned back to the argument with her sister, but froze at the familiar gleam in Rebecca’s eyes. “No. No we are not going to the park! There’s probably nothing going on! Yesterday that man told me he controls the weather!”

“But they’re in love!” Rebecca squealed. “And whatever’s going on it’ll probably be a riot.” She gasped, grabbing Eliza’s arm. “We should bring cake!”

“No, we’re not – you can’t use my bakery discount for…whatever this is!”

“Oi. Humans.” They looked up to see the man with the dark suit and red hair. His eyes were brilliant gold with slit pupils, like a cat, focused on the case behind them. “You’re standing in front of the rings.” His tone was harsh, but his face was still flushed pink.

“Congratulations,” Rebecca giggled, even as Eliza pushed her out of the way. “There’s a really nice gold one in the back!”

“That’s it,” Eliza groaned. “We can – just – buy mom that dress we saw. Let’s go.”

“Aw, you’re no fun. Look, I’ll pay for your half of the gift, and buy you those concert tickets. Please can we go?”

Eliza rubbed her eye. “What kind of cake?”

--

Half an hour later, Aziraphale stood beside the duck pond, hand tapping excitedly against the fence. The weather was perfect, almost a dozen people had gathered, and most importantly…Crowley was there, pinning a red rosebud to Aziraphale’s lapel.

“You have to stop looking at me like that,” Crowley complained. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Well, anything else would be a lie.” Aziraphale reached up and straightened the white daisy in Crowley’s buttonhole.

“Are you sure you want to do this here? Where we…had our fight?” His eyes tightened just at the mention of it.

“Where better? If we hadn’t fought, I wouldn’t have tried to stop that spy ring, and you wouldn’t have had to save me – and I wouldn’t have realized I love you more than all the wine in France.” He gazed out over the water, and noticed the black swan was there again. "Besides. It was always one of my favorite spots. And when we...weren't speaking...I would come here to remember you."

“Nnh.” Crowley leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together for just a second. “Fine. But…” he turned his head, stealing a glance toward the spectators. “I didn’t think so many would come.”

“You can put your glasses back on, you know. I only mind a little, but your comfort is far more important to me than having this moment be completed by the sight of your gorgeous eyes.”

“No.” He straightened up, and the smile that hovered at the corner of his lips was more brilliant than the light of Heaven. “I told you, while you don’t have your defenses, I don’t have mine.” His eyes darted to their audience again. “Just…why? I thought you didn’t want anyone to see you like this.”

“Because, my dearest love, if I’m not going to remember this moment, at least all of them will.”

“Ngk. If you want. Just.” Another anxious look. “Don’t make me talk to anyone.”

“Just me, I promise.”

Aziraphale pulled out a silver chain from his pocket, and draped it around Crowley’s neck. None of the rings had looked right but this…somehow…was perfect.

“Anthony J. Crowley,” he began, loud enough for his voice to carry. “My darling. My love. I trust you with everything that I am, as I always have, as I always will, forever and ever. You have cared for me, when no one else did, kept me close when I pushed you away, came to my aid when I thought all was lost, with never a moment’s hesitation. You are my best friend, have been for centuries, and I want nothing more than to be by your side for centuries to come. For eternity, if we can have it.” He smiled and ran his fingers across Crowley's new chain. Yes. Perfect.

Crowley glared at his feet, biting his lip. “For Satan’s sake, Angel…” his eyes drifted up, filled with tears. “How am I supposed to follow that?”

Aziraphale took his hand. “However you wish, my Crowley. My love for you isn’t going to change because of a few words.”

“I hope not.” With one last glare towards the crowd – which was perhaps meant to be intimidating, but utterly ruined by the way he blushed – Crowley leaned forward and whispered in Aziraphale’s ear.

“Yes, dear. That…that will do nicely.”

Aziraphale held out his hand and Crowley produced a golden signet ring. He slid it onto Aziraphale’s pinky, where no one would suspect it meant a thing, least of all Aziraphale and twined their fingers together. Both their hands trembled.

“Well,” Aziraphale said,  blinking his eyes clear. “I – thank you all for coming. I suppose that’s…”

“Kiss!” A young woman’s voice called from the crowd. “It’s not official until you kiss!”

“Rebecca, shut up,” another voice cut in.

Aziraphale took both of Crowley’s hands in his. “Well. You heard the excitable young lady.”

“I don’t think there’s anything official about any of this,” Crowley said dryly, but he leaned closer, hesitating. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

The first brush of Crowley’s lips stole his breath away.

The second destroyed him, tore him apart, left him hollow and raw.

The third breathed new life, filled him with a love and hope beyond anything he’d ever experienced.

After that, his tongue brushed Crowley’s bottom lip, and he rather lost track of things.

--

“Wow,” Rebecca said, eyebrows vanishing into her hair. “I did not know old men kissed like that.”

“Why are you so weird?” Eliza sighed. “Are you happy now? We saw their…semi-wedding. Can we go?”

“Eliza, you can’t leave the wedding before the cake.” She held the box up. “Oi! Anyone want cake?”

--

Aziraphale broke off the kiss, turning so suddenly Crowley lost his balance and would have fallen in the pond had the fence not stopped him. The demon gasped for breath, trying to think through the brilliant, golden sparks that filled his mind, trying to feel anything beyond that wonderful, eternal glow of—

“Darling, did you hear that? Someone brought cake!”

--

They sat together, one last time, on the shop sofa, watching the seconds tick away.

“It’s…it’s only twenty years, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, head resting on his shoulder, twisting the new ring on his pinky. It had little wings. Utterly perfect. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Nh,” his husband grunted, running a thumb along the silver chain. “Long as something doesn’t go wrong.”

“What would go wrong? The blessing? You’re sure you can unravel it? It might be different from a curse—”

“No,” Crowley interrupted, resting a hand on Aziraphale’s temple. “I can see it clearly now. Twenty…maybe twenty-one years. But what if Gabriel tries something else? You won’t even know to look out for it.”

“Yes, I’m afraid I’ll have to trust you to keep an eye on…well, me.” He carefully unpinned the rosebud from his jacket, spinning it between his fingers. “Don’t let me take any foolish risks, either. I…I’m going to think protecting us both is my job. I’m used to taking care of these things. Be patient with me, and know that I love you.”

Crowley kissed the top of his head. “How will I know when you’re thinking about me?”

“Oh, my dear. I always am.” He sat up to meet those golden eyes. “If I’m talking, I’m trying not to say I love you. If I’m silent, I’m trying to hold it in. If I smile, I’m remembering how much I love you. If I get annoyed, it’s because I can’t believe I love such an idiot. There is no moment that my heart isn’t full of you.” He looked at the clock. Two minutes to go.

Crowley’s fingers landed on his chin, turning him back.

“I – I – I suppose I’ll see you in twenty years?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Crowley smiled. “Movie night.”

“Oh, yes. Something with a wedding at the end, I think, regardless of what I say.” His eyes darted to the clock. “Crowley. Kiss me again.”

It was just as soft – as tender – as passionate – as glorious as the first.

Crowley’s fingers pressed to his temples.

“I love you,” Aziraphale whispered, one last time.

--

An hour later, Crowley stood up, arranging his husband – his best friend – his angel on the sofa.

One last kiss on the forehead. It would have to hold him over for a few decades, and he had a feeling the 2000s were going to be rough.

“Goodnight, Angel,” he said, softly, pulling his glasses out of his pocket, sliding them on his nose. His defense against the world back in place.

Crowley walked out of the bookshop, and began to pick at the edges of the blessing in his mind.

--

The Archangel Gabriel appeared in the dusty collection of records Aziraphale was so fond of. He arrived two hours later than scheduled, knowing it would make the Principality anxious and eager to please.

He had waited thousands of years for this moment.

Ever since Eden, really – since the Guardian of the Eastern Gate had questioned the decision to throw the humans out. It had been a small question – are you sure? – but these things always started small.

He’d been watching for signs of rebellion, signs of doubt. He had his suspicions. Some angels flaunted their disobedience, others carefully hid it, walking the line, pretending to believe while harboring wicked, deceitful thoughts. Well. They all slipped up eventually.

All except Aziraphale.

There he was now, wandering out from a dark corner, eyes stuck on another of those – those books. He glanced up, then jumped, startled. “Oh! Oh, Gabriel. Oh, my. What brings you here?”

“I’ve come for your update.” He folded his hands and waited.

It was the perfect trap. Aziraphale would have spent the last five days touching the blessing, breathing it in, rolling it through his mind and weaving it in his thoughts as he tried to decipher the infinitely-changing text. It should have a complete hold on him now, compelling him to express his deepest secrets. Finally, finally, Gabriel would have the confession he needed to prove Aziraphale was a corrupt, worthless angel.

The Principality blinked his over-bright, nervous eyes.

“Update? On…? I’m sorry, I’ve been terribly busy this week.”

“The book,” Gabriel prompted. Aziraphale shook his head. “The cursed book?”

“Oh, the book! Oh, oh, no, I forgot entirely!” Aziraphale spun, searching the room, hesitating for just a second on a vase full of flowers. “I’m sure I have it around here somewhere. I put it on my desk, thinking this should be quite interesting. Yes! There.” He crossed the floor and picked it up, holding it out to Gabriel with a bland, sheepish grin.

Gabriel waited again, but still no compulsion seemed to loosen Aziraphale’s tongue. “Well? What did you find out?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, as I said, I’ve been quite busy. Only had a chance to glance at it two, maybe three times.” He tipped up the book to look sadly at the cover. “Fascinating stuff. Pity it has to be destroyed.”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, jaw tight, pulling the tome from his hands. “Pity.” It had taken seven years to create that book, and another three to perfect the blessing. How, how could it have failed? “What have you been up to this week?”

“Oh, this and that. Various concerns of London. Minor healing here, bit of good luck there. Nothing to concern you with, but sadly it kept me out of my shop for days on end.”

That was all. The same blathering, unconfirmable nothing as ever, hidden behind that simpering, smirking face. The lying, treacherous bastard was about to get away with it again. Whatever it was. Gabriel had to fight not to lose his temper, throw the book, smite the disrespectful Principality where he stood.

“Well.” He dropped the book onto a chair. “Sorry to hear that. Perhaps we can get an extension—”

“Oh, no,” Aziraphale frowned. “No, this all sounds quite dangerous. I’m afraid the best thing is to get rid of it as soon as possible. I’ve had a bit of time to think, and mystery aside, there’s not likely anything to be learned from it. After all, the demons associated with it were all killed, correct?”

“Yes,” Gabriel grunted. “I did – I told you I was counting on you for this, didn’t I?”

Aziraphale’s face crumpled into guilt. At least that still worked. “Yes…you did say something to that effect. I’m – I am sorry to disappoint, but—”

“Disappoint? I ordered you to get answers. You know what this means?”

“I – I – I—”

It was almost enough to make Gabriel smile. But that panic wouldn’t do him much good – this job hadn’t been sanctioned by anyone in Heaven, so the worst Gabriel could do was berate the Principality in private, and make a show of forgiving him. That might buy a few years of quiet obedience, but it didn’t solve the core problem, that defective knot that he knew lived in Aziraphale’s soul.

“I – I don’t believe you did.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I’m sorry, Gabriel, but when you came here on Monday, you said you wanted to consult with me on a cursed book. I…that is, you said this was a favor, not an – an actual order as such. So, while I am sorry to disappoint you, truly I am…”

The Archangel clapped his hands, squeezing them, imagining the core of Aziraphale’s true form was being crushed between them. “No! You’re right. This – this was a favor and…well…” He floundered.

And that absolute bastard smiled at him. “Jolly good. Glad that’s sorted. But, please, Gabriel. Anything you need in future. I would very much like another chance to assist you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll find something.” He picked up the book and prepared to depart, then hesitated. There was a suspicion that had lurked in his mind for nearly a thousand years. “By the way, was that demon…what’s his name…Crowley? Was he involved in any of this…this business of yours?”

That stupid, nervous smile flashed across Aziraphale’s face, but he was almost entirely calm when he replied: “No, I haven’t seen Crowley all week.”

“Well. See you soon.”

The next instant, Gabriel was back in Heaven, in his private office. He tossed the book aside. So much wasted effort.

Still. There was one big project on the horizon. Something Aziraphale couldn’t help but fail at.

He pressed a button on his desk phone. “Get me an update on the Armageddon plans.”

--

Gabriel left, and Aziraphale felt the knot of worry untie in his stomach. The whole situation with that cursed book had entirely slipped his mind while he…

While he…

What had he been up to this week?

He remembered bits and pieces. Wandering the streets, talking to people, the usual. He’d picked up this lovely golden ring somewhere, and had already grown quite fond of it. But the week had flown by in a rather extraordinary way, and he couldn’t quite account for it.

Well, be that as it may. He was quite glad to spend the rest of the evening in his favorite chair, perhaps reread Hamlet or one of Georgette Heyer’s novels. Yes, he was very much in the mood for a happy ending tonight, though he wasn’t sure why.

On his way to the shelves, he noticed the vase full of daisies again. He couldn’t recall where they came from, but they did brighten up the room wonderfully.

--

(Thank you! Notes for this chapter can be found on AO3, but especial thanks to @under-a-linden-tree for help writing Aziraphale’s wedding vows, because it was just a bit sappier than I usually go! The final two chapters are quick epilogues, which I will have up as soon as possible.)

@black-velvet-roses-tea @witchingwhovian

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

How about 8 and 28? I haven't seen a lot of Clemsim so I'm naturally pretty curious about these two! And I hope you can find some peace soon, lord knows we could all use some! 😵😵😵

“Clemsim babysit a child together. Shenanigans ensue.” 

Read on AO3

Lucy’s giggle is the most annoying thing Aasim has ever heard. 

Nails on chalkboards are mere ambiance noise compared to the high-pitched giggle muffled behind the wooden door. 

Aasim grips the doorknob once more, twisting with all his might while banging against the wood with his free hand. 

“Lucy, I’m not messing around!” He snaps. “Open the door!”

“Nope!” Lucy titters, mimicking his knock from the other side. 

Aasim bounces his forehead off the door, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to find his inner calm. 

Lucy kicks the door. 

“Damn i- Dang it, Lucy-!”

“You swore! You swore! I’m telling my mom! You swore!”

“No!” Aasim argues. “I said ‘dang’ it!”

“You said a bad word! I heard it!” 

“Oh yeah?” Aasim grits his teeth. “Well, when your mom gets home, you’re going to be in even more trouble for locking yourself in her room!”

“Nu-uh!” Lucy taps back on the door. “Not if I tell her you locked me in here!”

“She won’t believe you!”

“Yes, she will!” 

He’s going to punch a hole in the damn door. 

He’s actually going to step back and kick it down himself. Then, he’s going to tear that ugly baby doll from her chubby hands, rip it to shreds, set it on fire and make her watch it burn-

Aasim steps back from the door, fingers raking through his already tousled hair. He can’t remember the last time he was so frustrated that he could just cry. 

This was supposed to be an easy evening with an easy thirty dollars earned towards his new bookcase. Mr. and Mrs. Hawker were nice people who always helped Aasim and his family when they needed it. He couldn’t imagine having better neighbors.

When they called his mother up asking if he wanted to earn some cash, Aasim jumped on it without a second thought. For months, he’s had his eye on a nice wooden bookshelf in one of the used shops in town. Huge and made of thick, sturdy wood, it would fit perfectly along his wall, taking up more than half of it. 

Aasim could fit all of his books, notebooks, and even his movies on it. Then he wouldn’t have to keep his books stacked along his wall where they could fall and get damaged if anyone walked near them. 

The only problem was the bookcase was expensive.

But, not as expensive as a brand new one. 

So, Aasim took up doing extra jobs around the house to raise his allowance, as well as jumping at every opportunity to earn cash from helping out the Hawkers. 

Thirty dollars would put his twenty away from his goal, and everything was going smoothly. 

Until Lucy asked him to play hide n’ seek. 

Which was fine- Aasim didn’t mind playing a game with the toddler.

Then she locked herself in her parent’s room and now Aasim might not get that money. Of course, if she completely destroys the room, Aasim might never get another job from the Hawkers. 

“Lucy, please-”

“Nope!”

“You-”

The chime of his phone goes off. Aasim yanks the phone from his jacket pocket. 

Clementine’s picture fills the screen- the one he took of her in the library.

Glancing back at the door, he steps back down the hall to answer with, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” she says. “Did you get my text?”

“Uh, no, sorry. I’m… occupied.”

“Oh yeah? Well, just so you know, Louis did get the part in the spring musical!”

“Oh shit, really?” Aasim slaps a hand over his mouth, turning back towards the door. Lucy doesn’t say anything, so he should be in the clear. “That’s great!”

“Yeah! We kept telling him he’d do great. Anyway, to celebrate, we’re all meeting at Omar’s tomorrow for breakfast. Mind if I hitch a ride?”

“What time?”

“Around eight.”

Aasim scoffs. 

“Louis’ll be up and ready by then?”

“Probably not,” Clementine laughs. There’s a brief pause when Aasim hears something fall over from within the bedroom, followed by Lucy’s insufferable giggle. 

“So, what has you occupied?” Clementine finally asks. “You sound distracted.”

“I have, uh… a situation.”

“A situation?”

“Babysitting,” Aasim sighs. “Mr. and Mrs. Hawker went to dinner, so they asked me to watch Lucy until they get back, right? Simple enough?”

“Except…?”

“Except the little-” Aasim glances back at the door, hushing his voice, “-brat locked herself in her parents room and I can’t get her to come out.”

“Did you try asking politely?”

“Did I try- Clementine.”

‘What?” Clementine chuckles lightly. “Sometimes you can be very rude-”

“Oh my god.”

“-and as a result, children won’t listen to you. Because you’re rude.” 

“I’ll have you know that I asked super nicely if she’d open the door and she wouldn’t do it!” 

“Well, what do you do when Aamirah won’t listen to you?”

“I never have that problem with Aamirah because she’s a good kid who knows how to listen!”

Another crash emits from the bedroom, muffled by the walls. 

“She is tearing the place apart and if I break down the door, then I’ll have to fix it before they get home!” Aasim says, pulling at his hair. “I don’t know how to fix a door! And even if I do fix it, she’ll just squeal to her parents that I broke the door down! And that I swore! Which I didn’t mean to do! It just came out!”

Clementine goes silent. 

“…Clem?”

“You’re just next door, right?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m on my way!”

“What? No, Clem-”

“See you soon!”

“Clementine!”

She already hung up. 

Aasim stares at his phone, mouth agape. 

No, no, no…! 

Clementine cannot be here! 

The Hawkers made it clear that no one else was to be in the house! Especially his girlfriend!

“Aasim!” 

Lucy pokes her head out from the bedroom, grinning ear to ear as she waves at him.

Aasim stumbles as he turns himself around, dashing towards the room.

He doesn’t make it. 

Lucy’s already locking the door by the time he grabs the knob. 

“This isn’t funny!” 

Not even twenty minutes later, the doorbell rings. At the same time, his phone buzzes with a little “Here!” message from Clementine. 

Rushing down the stairs, he throws the door open, blocking the doorway. 

Clementine stares up at him with wide eyes, taking in his disheveled appearance. She bites back a grin. 

“Clem, not to be rude-” she raises a brow at him “-but you can’t be here. If they find out you were here, I’m dead. Please leave.” 

She rolls her eyes, moving up the steps anyway. 

“I can see why you’re having trouble.”

He doesn’t stop her- she’s not supposed to be here, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see her. If anything, Clementine’s the one good sight he’s had all evening. 

She gives him a quick kiss on the cheek before ducking past him. 

“She still won’t come out?”

“No,” Aasim sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “I’ve tried asking nicely, I’ve tried bribing her, threatening to call her parents, begging- I’ve tried everything except breaking the door down.”

Clementine hums, reaching for his hand, smiling, “C’mon.”

Hand in hand, he leads her up the stairs and right to the door. 

Aasim knocks, calling out, “Lucy? Your parents will be home soon! Don’t you want to come out and get ready for bed?”

“Nope!” Lucy giggles. “Nope! Nope! Nope!”

Aasim shoots Clementine an exasperated look, which she returns with an amused grin. Giving his hand a final squeeze, she approaches the door. 

However, she doesn’t knock, nor does she say anything. 

Instead, she pulls her backpack off, unzipping the front pocket. Finding what she’s looking for, Clementine kneels down on the floor, and begins fiddling with the doorknob.

“Woah, what are you-”

…Is she-

Clementine smirks up at him. 

She’s lock-picking the damn door. 

How is she lock-picking the god damn door?

A soft clicking is heard. 

Triumphant, Clementine bounces back to her feet. Aasim knows he must look foolish gawking at her the way he is, but it gets worse when she pulls a dress out of her bag. 

Before he knows it, Aasim’s holding her jacket as she slips the dress over her head, smoothing it out of her clothes. It’s a classic Snow White dress, one you’d see around Halloween time. 

He has no words. 

Still smirking, Clementine opens the door. 

“Hey!” Lucy’s high-pitched voice brings an ache to his ears. 

“Oh my!” Clementine says, voice changed so dramatically that Aasim almost bursts out laughing. “There she is! Safe and sound!

Lucy drops from her parents bed, hurrying to the door to stare up at Clementine in wonder. 

“Who are you?”

“I’m Princess Clementine.”

Lucy gasps, gripping her baby doll close to her chest as she looks over Clementine’s dress.

“You’re… a princess?”

“Why, yes I am!” Clementine smiles, brushing the blond curls away from Lucy’s face. “We were so worried that you’d be trapped in there forever!”

“How’d you get the door open?” Lucy demands. “It was locked!”

Clementine leans close, whispering, “Magic!”

Oh god.

Aasim wishes he had his phone pulled out to record this. 

Lucy eats it up, though, staring at Clementine with those big, blue eyes. 

“Thank goodness Prince Aasim told me you were trapped!” 

…What?

“Prince…Aasim?” Lucy turns her gaze to him. 

“Uh…?”

Clementine shoots him a look. 

“Uh, yes!” he clears his throat, deepening his voice. “I, Prince Aasim, sent for Princess Clementine to free you from this… bedroom…trap place.”

Lucy eats it up, marveling at the both of them. 

Clementine peeks into the bedroom with a frown. 

“Oh dear,” she says. “It seems that this place it quite messy?”

Oh shit-

Aasim steps forward, heart dropping at the sight off loose drawers dumped onto he ground, pillows tossed everywhere, and a lamp on the floor. 

Oh shit, oh shit-

“Lucy,” Clementine places her hands delicately on the girls shoulders. “Would you like to be a princess, too?”

Lucy squeals, and Aasim wants to die. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Then you must help me and Prince Aasim clean this mess up,” Clementine smiles. “Once we’re finished, I will make you a real princess! How does that sound?”

“Yes! Yes!” 

Lucy jumps up and down, grabbing Clementine’s hands to drag her into the room. 

The clean up is much easier than it looked. The hardest part was putting the drawers back together, but other than that, the bedroom looked tidy within the hour. 

Once finished, Clementine escorted the toddler to her room, tucking her into bed and making her pinky promise to treat Prince Aasim with respect, and to not tell her parents about what happened. If her parents find out, “all magic will leave this world!”

Aasim can only laugh. 

Exhaustion from all the stress and frustration has him plopping down on the living room couch. He owes Clementine big time. 

He’s going to plan a special date for her. He doesn’t know what it’ll consist of yet, but they’ll make a whole day of it. He’ll take her to the fanciest restaurant he can afford, he’ll write her sappy poetry and read it to her in the moonlight, he’ll sit through one of the gory, action-packed thrillers that she likes so much, he’ll-

Clementine comes down the stairs, grinning to herself as she sits beside him and grabs his hand once more. 

After a moment, Aasim looks to her.

They share a brief gaze before he reaches over, hand slipping behind her head as he brings his lips to hers. She grins, kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm. 

When they break apart, Aasim sighs. 

“I have so many questions.”

[chocochar]

ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴅʏ x ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴍᴘ | Dabi x Reader [Part 1]

(AN: First read this before jumping into the fic, it’s info for it!!

So I got a request for a Lady and the Tramp Dabi x Reader (Which is almost done although it’ll be in two parts, since it’s so long... TuT;) and I got hit with a flood of ideas. So, uh, this was born yay! Dunno if anyone will like it but I’m still gonna keep up on it either way lol Get ready for a lot of introduction, Dabi shows up towards the end of this chapter XD) 

Part 2: TBA

       The kingdom of Musutafu is known far and wide as the largest and most prosperous of all the land; it houses both nobles and royals alike, the common areas popular for their trade and shopping, and the king, Toshinori, is well known for his kind nature. While still standing tall and proud many look up to the man, referring to him as the greatest king that's ruled over there land.

       Nestled in the main city is the (L/n) manor where the nobles (Fa/n) (L/n) and his wife (M/n) (L/n) reside with their 3 daughters (F/n), (first sister), and (second sister). The family is well known for both their business involved in creating top of the line armor, specifically made of rare materials that take weeks to find, and their beautiful daughters, both of which are key reasons so many other families have flocked to them throwing their sons into the pile of suitors wanting at least one daughter's hand in marriage. While her sisters have found fitting men (F/n) is less fortunate. Nearly every single one has either been turned down by her father, clearly only interested in her money, or just not her type. It's frustrating, and sometimes she wonders what it would be like to not be connected to money and power. She's even considered leaving home, maybe becoming a trader in the commoners district, but living a sheltered life and not knowing anything beyond royal parties and courting and fancy meals, she isn't sure how well she'd make it.

       Waking up like she does everyday in her plush, queen sized bed the young woman stares up at her ceiling debating on getting up or not. She's supposed to meet a suitor today, one that her father set up without her knowing until yesterday. She tries to be nice and courteous at the very least every time, they did come to visit so even under those pretenses it's the least she could do (unless they're like the young lord she met last me, ugh... then she drops the niceties and nearly kicks them out with her actual foot.)

       After at least 10 minutes of lying there in a daze she gets up and yawns, stretching and shifting to get out of her bed. It takes about an hour to get ready simply because her mother orders the maids to do up her hair and makeup while also dressing her in a gown that's way too fancy for this occasion (in (F/n)'s opinion).

       Coming down into the dining hall once she's ready (F/n) greets,"Good morning..." with a yawn, her mother shaking her head when she sits down.

       "How many times have I told you ladies cover their mouth when they yawn, and also try to quiet them?"

       (F/n) gives her a tired look before digging into her breakfast. She tries to be ladylike, since her mother will chastise her more if she isn't, and takes small bites, holding her silverware correctly, etcetera. She can feel the overbearing glances from her mother and father while they eat, her sisters keeping up the conversation while (F/n) stays quiet and focuses on her food. She's too lost in thought about the meeting today; This is a bigger and more well known man than before, being apart of the council, the royals who come together in the castle and have meetings to make decisions the king either can't decide on or doesn't have time for.

       The man is Lord Enji Todoroki; his bloodline has been known for generations due to not only their heroic tales of glory or war victories but also their dragon blood allowing them to become the beasts. He's bringing his prodigy son, Shouto, whom she's met before, he's nice although not the most talkative unlike his older siblings. But his father she doesn't trust nearly as much. His wife supposedly went mad and splashed her son with boiling water, his eye scarred from the ordeal years ago, but word has also spread (you have to be careful who you say it around) that his eldest disappeared too after an 'incident'.

       (F/n) doesn't know the details, no one seems to know what happened to him but everyone knows better than to talk about it.

       "Are you ready, (F/n)?" Her father asks breaking her out of her thoughts. She looks at him and nods, forcing a smile and setting her silverware down. He returns the grin and adds,"Todoroki, will be here shortly so-"

       A servant entering the room quiets him and they look, the man saying,"Lord Todoroki has arrived, sir, and he and master Shouto are waiting in the study."

       "Ah, perfect, thank you Hans," (Fa/n) replies, the servant bowing before leaving. (F/n) takes in a deep breath, standing and patting her gown. Her father stands too, saying,"This could be it, (F/n), give it your all dear."

       While she agrees her eyes have trouble meeting her dad's as she turns and leaves, going to the study to greet her guests.

[X][X][X]

       The meeting starts out well, at least, (F/n) sitting across from the two royal men and trying to sit up straight and keep eye contact while they talk. Shouto is much easier to talk to than his father, (F/n) less stiff when he asks a question or replies. But she can clearly see who's leading this meeting.

       "Your family hasn't offered much on the table, (L/n), if it weren't for the business we wouldn't be having this meeting today," Enji remarks, (F/n) biting her lip and taking a breath before replying.

       "Well, your lordship, I truthfully do not know what my father has spoken to you about but if your son and I were to marry I can promise you we'd come to some sort of agreement."

       "Hmmm... I see," is all he says back, and she fidgets with her dress. He's very difficult to talk to, the way his intense gaze seems to be sizing her up. She can feel his disapproval, but for their families he seems to know a marriage would be very beneficial. (F/n) glances at Shouto; he looks like he's having about as much fun as her. She always can tell he doesn't want to be around his father, she can't blame him.

       "A-Anyways, Shouto, I heard your magic was getting much better too," she speaks up, the younger man nodding and softly smiling. He likes talking about his magic, she's noticed, unless his father is boasting about how powerful he is and how he'll be the next king for sure.

       "Yes, thanks to Ochako I've learned to master more spells, especially some of the more difficult out there-"

       "Not that he needed the help of some witch," Enji scoffs, arms crossed. "I have told you before, Shouto, the court mage has been looking to train you and I believe it would be better for you to take that over a girl."

       Shouto narrows his eyes but doesn't bite back, instead taking a deep breath. "I have also practiced more in my dragon form, I can control my elements better than I could last time we met."

       "If you'd like I'd very much like to see it today if we have time." (F/n) smiles warmly, ignoring the tense atmosphere.

       Things seem fine for another few minutes before Enji once more speaks up, cutting (F/n) off as she's talking to Shouto.

       "I have something to ask, (L/n)," she looks at him confused, stiffening at the expression he has. His intense cerulean orbs leave her feeling small, but they look suspicious, the (hair color) haired woman hoping she didn't say anything wrong. "I had heard your father telling one of the other nobles that the business would be going to your cousin, Izuku, is that correct?"

       For once she can't think of a response, eyes wide and the noble clearly confused. 'I-I never heard about this...' She thinks, swallowing. "I... I didn't know about this... Did my father say it directly?"

       "I had overheard them talking about it, I do not know the details but this will unfortunately put an end to this courting if that is the case," He admits without any hesitation. Shouto actually looks at his dad in shock while (F/n) is more taken back by hearing that her father said this. She's the oldest and has been getting taught about how to run everything since she was 14, so why...?

       "Father, you can't just stop it over something like this...!" Shouto tries to argue it but Enji is not one to back down once he's made a decision.

       "She is of no worth to us otherwise, she does not know magic, she's just a noble woman. The Todoroki's produce powerful offspring, we need wives who can give us that and more," He cuts the young man off, this striking a chord with the already upset noble herself. Standing abruptly she breaks the niceties.

       "Who are you to judge, sir? I'm sorry if I am unworthy of your bloodline, but to be honest I wouldn't want to continue it if you are going to be my father-in-law! I am sorry, Shouto, I suppose you'll have to show me your magic some other time where we aren't being roped together against our wills," she snaps, giving the white and red haired heir a sad look before glaring at his father and storming off out of the room. The two nobles sit there, Shouto feeling a strange tightness in his chest but also impressed someone stood up to his father, while Enji is more taken back although anger is quickly growing in his bones.

       When the servant comes looking for them he jumps back when the noble pushes past him storming out of the manor, his son not too far behind although admittedly not wanting to go home just yet.

       (F/n), meanwhile, is off hunting down her father.

[X][X][X]

       "You're giving it all to Izuku?" (F/n) asks the moment she finds (Fa/n), the man looking at her puzzled before it disappears and he's rubbing his neck, turning away from her.

       "Enji told you?" He asks, also having a feeling this suitor won't work out either. But with Izuku taking on the armory giving his daughter away to a man of power is more, in his mind, for her own happiness, no longer in hopes to continue the family business.

       "Yes, he did, and he was not very happy himself when he imagined giving his son to someone so unworthy," she replies bitterly, crossing her arms. He pinches the bridge of his nose annoyed but the hurt in his daughter's voice next catches him off guard. "You... Are really giving everything to Izuku? E-Even though I've been working towards being the next to take it over?" She's always known her father has favored the green haired boy, even if he tries to hide it. Most of the time she tries not to think about it but this time is different.

       "(F/n), you have to understand... Izuku has been training under king Toshinori, he's worked with armor and weapons in the past, and, well-"

       "You will always favorite him," She cuts him off, her father looking taken back but also not defending himself. The hurt on her face is no longer masked and she meets his eyes. "He's special, I understand, so are my sisters, I love them too but... But... I'm you're child too!" He doesn't argue, he has no place to, and she shakes her head; turning the woman rushes out of the room, heading for her own.

       After a few hours of cooling down everyone gathers for dinner, although she eats quickly before hiding away back in her room.

       "I'll never be the child he wants... Maybe I'll go stay at Tsu's, get my mind off of everything..."

       Thus when night falls and everyone is in bed she grabs the bag she packed, currently dressed in a gown with a cloak over it, the hood of said item over her head hiding her face. She wears her flats and hides the necklace around her neck with her family's symbol on it under her clothing. Leaving her room she checks the hall before taking a less occupied, quieter route  to reach the servants quarters. Leaving out the servants entrance she luckily slips away with little to no problems and holding her bag tightly she hurries away.

       Unfortunately her friend lives near the lower areas of the Common Area, and with all the guards she has to take back streets and hide so she isn't seen. Being so sheltered is not in her favor, as she has no idea she's being closely followed and watched until she goes to leave an alley but is pulled back in suddenly.

       "Wh-Wha-" she's muffled by a dirty, large hand. Her (e/c) eyes are wide, the woman freezing up seeing 3 men; the one holding her is on the scruffier side, looking quite a bit older than her and smelling of booze; the one to the right is lanky but has eyes that make her shake, and the left is muscled and missing an eye. The way they eye her up has her terrified and she hopes she brought enough money to maybe appease them.

       "Look at this, guys, we got a pretty thing here, don't we?~" the one holding her grins, his rank breath brushing her face leaving her coughing into his palm and trying to turn her head away.

       "Looks like one of them rich brats, too, check 'er bag!" the scrawny one adds trying to pry her bag from her hold. He succeeds and backs up, (F/n) still struggling to get free. She freezes up when she's groped by the one missing an eye and she shakes her head.

       "Don't worry your pretty lil' head, we ain't lookin' to hurt ya," her holder says but the grin on his face says otherwise as they pull at her gown ready to undress her and do who knows what. She is able to open her mouth just enough to bite his hand, which luckily gets him to pull it back with a,"You lil' bitch-"

       "HELP!" She cries out, hoping someone, anyone will come to her aid before they do anything else.

       The dirty man she bit doesn't hesitate to slap her, causing (F/n) to fall over from the impact, but as he goes to kneel down the scrawny one whispers,"Ah shit, the Tramp!" All 3 stiffen and look at the alley entrance, (F/n) shaking on the ground hand covering her cheek and tears brimming in her eyes. Shakily she opens them when a new voice speaks up,"At it again, boys? Thought I told you 3 this was my area but I guess trash doesn't stay where it belongs."

       She takes in his odd appearance while also wondering if he came to help her or not; his black hair looks wild yet soft to the touch, his bright blue eyes seem to glow in the dim lighting, and she can make out purple scars decorating his body kept together with his normal, pale skin by staples. His clothes have seen better days with tears in different areas and all dark shades, 3 silver piercings sit on the bridge of his nose, and in his ears sit silver loops along the shell and turquoise colored crescent shaped loops in the lobes. He has an expression that's hard to read, although she can make out some irritation. She stares at him hoping he did come to save her, and when he looks down at her she freezes at how intense his cerulean gaze is. It reminds her of a certain noble she told off earlier today...

       His eyes shoot back up to her assailants when the scruffy leader shakily says,"D-Dabi, look, we was just tryin' to do some quick robbin' she wandered this way before we could-"

       "I don't really care what your reasons are, Haggar, just get out of here before all your wives have of you 3 are ashes," he says fluidly, this being no idle threat since the moment they hear it the 3 men are already running back down the alley as fast as they can. The man, 'Dabi', sighs pushing some of his black locks back before he turns back to the trembling woman; (F/n) has gotten up by this point, carefully meeting his eyes and feeling more intimidated by it then even Enji's. But he doesn't seem like he'll hurt her as he walks up to her bag, grabs it, and hands it back to her, (F/n) taking it and biting her lip.

       "Th-Thank you," she says, wondering if she can maybe give him gold as a way of repaying him.

       He looks her over before giving a small grin and saying,"No problem, dollface, I couldn't just stand by, could I?" She turns pink at the name and his tone, but he seems friendly, at least towards her. He starts to leave the alley and she follows almost immediately, having been shaken up by that experience and finding this need to stay close to him. He knows she's following him so he asks,"What's a noble girl doing down here this late at night? Out for a little walk but got lost?"

       "Um, well not exactly, I was going to a friend's home, in the shopping district... And I did get a bit lost, but when I actually figured out the way those men grabbed me," she replies, trying to keep up with him and peering up at him. "If it weren't for you..."

       He glances at her and can see how shaken up she still is, deciding to give a lazy grin and keep up this friendly facade by saying,"Like I said, I couldn't just let those rats hurt a doll like you, good thing I was passing by when you screamed." He hums, getting an idea and stopping to look down at the young woman. "The shopping district is a bit far for you to walk to this late, plus you look pretty exhausted. If you'd like you can stay at my home until morning, it's about 5 minutes from here."

       Despite a little voice telling her not to take the offer (F/n) is too tired to argue or deny him, so nodding she smiles and says,"I-I don't see why not, that's very thoughtful, thank you... Dabi, correct?"

       He nods, starting to walk again. She drags a little behind him, adding,"My name is (F/n), it's nice to meet you." She leaves out her last name, after all she doesn't know Dabi so mentioning her family line could be a bit troublesome. He looks over his shoulder at her and smirks before looking ahead.

       He'll keep up the friendly facade, for now, she seems naive to this side of town. 'As long as I keep up the act she'll be easy puddy in my hands.' He thinks, already knowing who she is, how much her family is worth, and planning on an easy chance to gain quite a bit out of this and finally get out of this city.

       All he has to do is reel her in.

(AN: Okay so almost 3 days working on this one chapter, it's finally done. Sorry it's super long, had to get it goin' y'know? Honestly I dunno how much attention this will get, or if anyone will like it, but it sounded like a fun idea so I'm still gonna write it lol

Sorry if Dabi or anyone is OOC! I'm already working on the next chapter so let me know what you guys think, I love hearing peoples thoughts, any critiques I'm open to, and enjoy! (ง ´͈౪`͈)ว )

[selenelavellan]

Dirthalene body worship and office sex :D

I got distracted with plot but I DID IT

Reverse Evanuris AU

Dirthamen and the usual Evanuris are @feynites

Ana is @lycheemilkarts

NSFW

Selene has been under quite a lot ofstress lately.

Dirthamen knows this, as does much ofthe castle. It is not a secret that she has been struggling to mendties with members of her family whom she alienated during thefestival. That she has been tense and trying to return to a sense ofnormalcy in her home ever since she returned from her mothersterritory.

He would like to help.

That is where the trouble started.

They had fought, before the festival.She seemed to forgive him for his outburst upon her return, butit still hasn't been quite the same between them. Almost as though she has triedto force herself to move on, to take him back the way they had beenbefore, but something is holding her back. He can only assume he hasdone something wrong, without realizing.

That will not do. But heis unsure of how to aptly apologize.

It is a dangerous thing, to ask Des'dinfor advice. It does not escape Dirthamen that his markings have notchanged; that his lord has not changed, despite his seeminglypermanent transfer, and that his life and privilege still thrive atthe whims of the horned god.

Des'din has noticed the tension of hisother half as well though.

“She's doing that...thing,again” Des'din says, making a waving motion with his hand. “Ithappens. She's not good with stress. She holds onto everything untilit crushes her. Then she breaks apart, takes a deep breath, forcesherself back together, and starts the process all over again. It's aterrible habit of hers.”

“How do I help?” Dirthamen asks, alittle more pointedly this time.

Des'din raises an eyebrow, mouthcurling into a grin. “You need to give her another outlet, ofcourse.”

Dirthamen blinks in confusion.

“Oh, dear thing,” Des'din sighs,propping his head up on the back of his hand. “Distract her fromher work; pull her away from her worries, and let her have some timewhere she remembers that the world is not going to fall apart becauseAndruil is off pouting in the woods.”

“Oh,” Dirthamen nods slowly. “Howshould I do that?”

The grin curls back onto Des'dins face,as he pats at the space on the stone bench beside him.

“Come listen to my tale, littleblackbird,” He coos “And I'll share with you the weaknessesof my other half.”

-

It has been a very long day.

A shame it is only noon, Selene thinks.

She pushes open the heavy wooden doorsof her office, letting out a soft sigh at the pile of papers stackedhigh upon it. Ana is inside, browsing through a scroll detailing therecent movement of Elgar'nans peacekeepers near their border. Sheblinks when Selene enters.

Glances down at the desk.

Glances back to Selene.

...Curious.

“I'm just gonna....” The red headsays, pointing to the entryway Selene had just used and exiting theroom before finishing her declaration.

Selene doesn't bother chasing afterher; whatever Ana is dealing with, Selene trusts her to handle it.

Selene lets out a breath, tugging offher cloak and tossing it haphazardly onto one of the chairs as sheuncoils the braids that are in fashion in Sylaise's lands, and whichsomehow had been requested for her morning trip to check on theprogress of June's latest project.

It is far better than she had expected,at least. For all his faults, he really has learned an impressivelyefficient way to use his resources, even with a minimal amount ofspiritual sacrifice. Still not none, but at least 40% lessthan the original plans had called for.

Progress, however slow, is stillprogress.

It is with this mindset that she takesto her seat, leaning forward to begin her slog through the dayspaperwork.

A small, black tendril begins to windits way up her calf, and she nearly lights it on fire before sherealizes who is controlling it.

“Dirthamen?” She asks, glancingdown to find him kneeling beneath her desk. “What are you doingdown th-”

The doors of the room are flung openand she nearly jumps out of her skin as she watches CaptainDin'Durgen barge into her office, a crumpled piece of parchmentraised high above her head. Without even thinking about it, Selenescoots her chair further in, in an effort to hide Dirthamen fromview.

“Is something wrong?” Selene asksthe woman, who finally remembers herself and stops a few feet awayfrom the desk, standing at a soldiers attention.

“There has been a mix up,”Din'Durgen asserts, before hastily adding “My lady.”

“Alright. What sort of mix-UP?!”Selene squeaks out the last wordas the tendril moves further up her leg, brushing against her corejust lightly enough to let her know where it is.

Din'Durgen clearsher throat “Ah, it seems as though all of our spiritually enhancedweaponry has been seized by your blacksmiths?”

It takes a fewmoments for the words to register to Selene, whose mind seems to bemuch more interested in the fact that Dirthamen has started trailinghis mouth and hands up the length of her legs.

“Uh,” Shefinally manages, forcing herself to focus. “Yes. I'm having theshards re-purposed.”

“For what?”Din'Durgen demands.

“To regrow in thedreaming,” Selene admits, trying to hide a shiver as Dirthamenshand traces the shape of her calf lightly enough that she can feelgoosebumps prickling her skin.

“Andhow are we to defendourselves?”

“Withyour-” Selene shakes her head, trying again to pull her focus tothe meeting with her guard captain, and away from her lover who hasapparently decided he would like to be exceedinglymischievous today “With your training, and your skills.”

“So we are to dieon the battlefield with only the words on our tongues and the storiesin our hearts?” Din'Durgen says wryly. “My lady, I know yourpurview is secrets, but please-what am I to tell my people?”

“I-” Selenestarts before getting pulled into a moan, Dirthamens mouth bitinggently on the soft skin of her inner thigh. She tries in vain to cover itwith a cough. “My research team is looking into a newmaterial for your weapons. One that has more naturally enchantedproperties. I discovered it while I was staying with the Lady Mythal.If we can harness it correctly, it should be able to lead us into awhole new era of energy that doesn't require spiritual sacrifice atall.”

“And in themeantime?”

“In themeantime,” Selene says, voice rising slightly in pitch as shestands abruptly to keep Dirthamen from delving his tongue inside ofher “I expect you to do your job the way I ask of you. You may takeyour leave now.”

Din'Durgensface twists slightly, ready to make another argument before Selenepushes out an air of impatience, and points directly to the doors.“You are dismissed,Captain.”

The turquoisehaired woman drops to a bow, and makes a hasty retreat. 

Selenefollows closely behind, locking and warding the doors behind her beforeturning and staring at the desk.

“Whatdo you think you're doing?” she says aloud.

Dirthamens headpeaks just over the edge of her desk as he says plainly “I amtrying to give you an outlet.”

“An outlet forwhat?”

His head tiltsslightly. “Interesting. I...did not ask that question.”

Selene drags herhand down her face. “Des put you up to this.”

“Not...precisely.He only mentioned that I should make my attempt somewhere that youoften find stressful. Since the council chambers would beinappropriate given their shared nature, your office seemed like themore reasonable choice.”

“And he told youto do...what? Surprise me with oral?”

Dirthamens mouthopens.

Closes.

He humsslightly in consideration before fully crawling out from beneath herdesk. “I would like to try something,” He finally decides.“If you would permit me.”

Selene feels herheartstrings tug, but stares over him at the piles of papers still on her desk.“I have so much to get done...”

“None of it istime sensitive,” He assures her. “I have already checked.”

“You read throughmy official paperwork?”

“You told me Iwas permitted to read 'anything I could get my hands on'.” Hepoints out.

Selene sighs andshakes her head fondly. “I did. I did say that.”

“May I make myattempt?” He tries again.

Selene slips herfingers into the loops of his robes, pulling him slightly towardsher. “I suppose so,” she allows.

The tops of hischeeks turn a soft pink at the gesture, but he clears his throat andtakes a step back.

“If you wouldhave a seat, I think this would perhaps be easier.”

Selene raises askeptical eyebrow. Chair sex in here? Really? Not quite theamount of support they usually need. The back of her chair is highperhaps, but several feet away from the wall. It's not meant towithstand a surplus of weight or movement, not like the ones heenjoys being tied to in the bedroom. One good thrust and they'll bothgo flying backwards.

Still. She canalways catch him, if need be. If something goes wrong, she'll simplyhandle it.

She always does.

Without furtherarguments, she seats herself back in her chair, scooting it fartherfrom her desk to avoid any temptation to multitask. Time sensitive ornot, she still has responsibilities after all.

But she sits upstraight, one leg crossed over the other expectantly, ready forwhatever Dirthamen might have in mind.

He kneels down infront of her, and her first instinct is to tell him to stand, thatit's ridiculous for him to act like this. He knows better than mostshe's no actual Goddess.

But his hand grazesover her knee and gently, so gently, uncrosses her legs.

“Just relax,”He says quietly, glancing up to make momentary eye contact, his baredhands still resting gently on her knees.

Such a small thing,really. The focus, the contact, the care for her in his words.

Her heart skips abeat all the same, words caught in her throat as she nods incompliance.

He places a softkiss to the top of one knee in thanks, eyes drifting closed and handsdrifting lower, thumbs rubbing small circles into the backs of hercalves. Affection is not unusual behavior for Dirthamen; quite theopposite, really. But this is...this is something different.

The way he exploresthe length of her legs, the attention and compliments he gives, theway he seems to savor every moment of this time...

It's worship.

She can feelherself heating up at the realization, even as he continues to takehis time with her legs and thighs. While he presses just firmlyenough on the tender flesh of her inner thighs to make small divots with his fingers,praising her softness, telling her how much he enjoys her, how muchshe means to him.

It is just words,really. Words coupled with affectionate touches, with genuineaffection and love and devotion pouring out of him.

It takes her breathaway. Ignites her in ways she hadn't expected, relaxes muscles sheforgot were capable of such a thing. His hands pull away the ribbonthat had been keeping her robes together and slide against her sides,reverent and unabashed while his mouth presses against the soft pouchof skin from where she is now slouching. Every inch of her is alight,straining and expectant, every touch like a new spark of magic fromhim. He goes slowly, so slowly it's almost maddening, but theanticipation is such a wonderful burn, his mouth and praise the balmshe craves while he takes his time inspecting and exploring everypiece of her.

Selene isn't sureprecisely when the scales appeared on her spine, or when her taildecided to make an appearance until Dirthamen is paying attention tothose pieces of her the same as he has the rest. She is on her kneeswith her back facing him, head raised towards her ceiling and breathscoming in shallow bursts when he runs his tongue over her scales andsends a shiver that makes her keen, tail dragging against thecold stone of the floor beneath them.

“Dirthamen,”She finally begs, head swimming in her hypersensitive state, hishands and mouth and ardor flooding her senses, thoughts falling awayas he makes a small bite on the crook of her neck, flooding her in anentirely different way.

Any other time shewould worry about the mess she must have made of her office chair,but now...now, all she can think of is him, is the way hemakes her feel, the relief of his presence, the love swelling withinher, ready to overflow and the blazing heat in the pit of herstomach.

He seems to noticethat she is approaching her limit, whispering more praise in her ear,telling her how well she is doing, how much he loves her, howgrateful he is to have been gifted her trust while he lifts her outof her chair, splaying her open on top of her desk instead.

A familiar,brightly colored container is pulled out of one of his pockets beforethe robe is discarded entirely. He coats one finger in it, slippingit inside of her with ease-

And she comesaround it.

Embarrassinglyearly, some corner of her mind thinks.

His own surpriseflares briefly around him before he reins it in and continues hisministrations, slipping a second finger in with ease and laving moreaffection over her sides and chest, a few tendrils sliding up hercalves once again, pulling her legs open a bit wider.

She hums as shefeels them, thoroughly relaxed, and considers the inspiration.

Subtly, as much asshe can hide it, she glances to where the discarded containerlays and carefully moves her tail closer to it. Pulling in on thecurls of hair that usually cover the end and softening the rough edges ofher scales, she rolls the extra appendage around in the lubricationbefore nudging it carefully against her lovers rear entrance.

Dirthamens eyes goslightly wide as he notices her actions, and she raises her eyebrowsup in challenge.

“Fair’s fair,”She coos, gently brushing her own hands over his cock.

He shivers, and shethinks he might be about to argue so she slides her mouth over hisbefore he can. Encases him in her arms and flips their positions,until he is the one splayed open on her desk and she is the one withtwo feet on the ground, devouring and drowning in the taste of him.

“Is thisalright?” She checks, pulling away just enough to speak, his breathstill warm against her lips.

“Yes,” Hebreathes, and she hums in thanks as she delves her tongue back intothe warm wet of his mouth, the tip of her tail pressing gently intohim in unison.

Selene can'tremember the last time she felt so relaxed. The last time she was inso little hurry to be somewhere or do something. Hownice it is just to enjoy her lover, her heart, to feel the way hemoves beneath her.

It would be better,she thinks, if he were not trying so hard to restrain himself.

“Let go Vhenan,”She purrs against his neck.

“My form...” Hemanages, skin still flushed and his cock dripping precum onto his stomach.

“I've got you,”She assures him.

He hesitates amoment before letting out a soft breath.

The air in the roomchanges notably as he does.

Six large blackwings unfurl from his back, skin turning to a beautiful dark expanselittered with stars and eyes. His legs lose some of their solidity,most of his body past the knees turning into tendrils that match hisskin, and the room fills with power and magic, long restrained by hischain and mask and his own growing capabilities. She has to loosesome of her own to cover it, to hide that this surplus of power ishis, so that anyone passing in the halls will only sense her power, her own magic flaring out into the wards. Her own pair of wingsunfurl, and she feels her pupils shift as she does, still in controlbut vulnerable as her peripheral vision nearly vanishes.

That's alright, shethinks as his tendrils curl around her. Her waist, her hips, herlegs, her arms; she trusts him.

Trusts himentirely, as he lifts her over his still straining cock and shelowers herself down onto it, sliding her tail slowly in and out ofhim in tandem with the rise and fall of her hips. His wings flare andhis breaths become as shallow as her own, her own hands exploring asmuch of the expanse of him as she can reach, stars bursting andgleaming under the pads of her fingers. Feathers fall down aroundthem; hers, his, theirs. 

Details become blurry while they losethemselves in each other, energies and words mixing and blurring andthe feeling of being touched all over simultaneously too much and not enough. Moansand groans and flesh on flesh, keening and orgasms and not even thecertainty of who between them is having them, only a shared desire to keep going, tosavor this, to make the most of being together again.

It is....very darkby the time they have stopped.

Selenes tail hasreceded and her scales have mostly vanished and Dirthamens form moreclosely resembles his usual one now, as they are spent and exhausted,hair damp and clinging and Selene is unsure if the insides of herthighs will ever be dry again after she glances down at the sloppymixture of their fluids still dripping out of her.

It’s a goodfeeling, though.

With the littleenergy still in her, she rolls over to Dirthamen, the two of them ona tapestry they seemed to have yanked off of her walls to lay on thefloor instead, and presses an affectionate kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you,”She manages.

He smiles, eyesonly half opened and his chest still rising and falling a bit tooviolently while he attempts to regain his breath. “Anytime.”

She snorts.

“Probably weshouldn't make a habit of completely destroying a room every time wehave sex,”

“There are worsehabits to have,” He notes, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Selene shakes herhead in fondness before burying it in the crook of his neck, curlingher body up around his.

It is good to beback.

[theartofdreaming1]

B99 Fanfic Recommendations (Peraltiago Stylez)

Since I’ll be off to visit my sis for about a week now and then will be busy with an internship for the following 6 weeks, I’ll probably not be able to post much during that time. So I decided to assemble a nice, mostly fluffy collection of b99 stories centered around Jake and Amy I very much enjoy :)

Canon (or canon-divergent or possible-future fic... just non-AU ;) :

One-shots

Enigmatic Easter Bunny by huffellepuff (“The Nine-Nine does a Secret Santa of sorts, and Jake gets Amy.Takes place very shortly before 2x21, Det. Dave Majors.” This is so sweet!)

Untitled Prompt 1 by @elsaclack (”What if Amy and Teddy got engaged during Jake’s undercover op and when Jake’s back the wedding preparations are in full swing and he tries to be supportive but can’t bring himself to go to the wedding?“ It’s by em, so of course it’s friggin’ amazing, duh! ;)

Untitled Prompt 2 by @elsaclack​ (”The night of Captain Latvia, Jake talks to Amy about his thoughts on what Boyle said about Jake never becoming a dad.” Aaah, I love this one so much! So great!)

Untitled Prompt 3 by @elsaclack​ (Amy finds Jake’s folder about her Dad while he’s still in prison. It’s... so... great? And the ending is super sweet!)

Untitled Prompt 4 by @elsaclack​ (Jake moves in with Amy and Amy finds a box with his mixtapes... one of them labeled with the date he went into witness protection. Good lord, this is so amazing! Just... amazing.)

Untitled Prompt 5 by @elsaclack (A father’s day fic. I squealed so hard reading this the first time! It’s super cute!)

Oxford Comma by grapefruity (”She’s got a system, and it isn’t going to come to a standstill just because her messy, disorganized, wreck of a partner makes her sometimes feel things.” The evolution of Jake and Amy’s relationship from Amy’s perspective. Really, really great! I also really love the description of their first encounter - heelies are involved; it’s amazing ^^)

Untitled Prompt by @haylestorming​ (”Amy and Jake talking about their future after the Rosa/Pimento (cancelled) wedding” ADORABLE!)

Untitled Prompt by @hotelsweet (”Random girl at bar starts flirting with Jake, Jake is clueless and it all goes right over his head, Amy steps in and gets her to back off” Do I really need to say more? It’s glorious. ^^)

what’s a home without you here? by @jcobsperalta (”amy comes home, jake is still in prison.“ Oh boy, my heart! But great!)

you’re a sky full of stars by @oceanvirus (”Jake discovers Amy's secret stargazing spot, but he can't seem to focus on constellations as much as he can focus on the one excitedly pointing them out. Takes place between Boyle-Linetti Wedding and Det. Dave Majors.” So. Friggin’. Cute.)

it’s amazing what baking can do by @sergeant-santiago (Jake and Amy face their biggest challenge yet: baking a cake for Charles. Whee! It’s super fun and cute and awesome!!)

all the way home i’ll be warm by @the-pontiac-bandit (“We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.” Cute Christmas fic with all the Santiagos and Jake. Sooo adorable! Get ready for pure joy!)

Multi-Chapters

breaking the first rule by @heart-eyes-santiago (“When did Jake Peralta fall in love with Amy Santiago? And when did she fall in love with him?” Soo good! Really sweet insights on Jake and Amy’s thoughts throughout the show. Complete. 4 Chapters.)

and all my world is losing light by @jakelovesamy ("Day one is listening to Captain Holt telling them not to give up hope, but then overhearing him calling Karen, and telling her in a quiet voice that her son has been sentenced to 15 years, telling her not to cry. Day one is spent filled with fear, and tears, and she punches a wall in their bedroom (because it is still theirs) so hard that the skin on her knuckles splits open. Day one is a cold side of the bed and a thick silence filling up the space where Jake used to be. Day one is overwhelming, plain and simple." Amy finds out she’s pregnant after the end of S4. Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster of awesomeness! Incredibly good. Complete. 2 Chapters.)

it’s only me who wants to wrap around your dreams by @oceanvirus (”In which Jake Peralta showing up at Amy Santiago's door in the middle of the night in need of a place to stay is simultaneously the best and worst thing that's ever to happened to them.” temporary roomates... Oh yeah! Excited for more! In-Progress. 1/6 Chapters as of yet.)

Nothing’s Normal in Texas by @okayokaycoolcoolcool (”She started feeling something in Texas. Maybe it was the mind-numbing fear that came with being locked in jail unarmed with murderers.  She probably could’ve blamed how annoyed she was at Jake and his tendency to jump in and make her job harder. Although, now that she thought of it, it was probably just the fake pregnancy that was making her mind funny.  It was probably nothing.” Or was it?! ;) Very cool. Complete. 8 Chapters.)

What to Expect by @three-drink-amy (”After a crazy night together, Amy finds herself pregnant with Jake's baby. They have to learn to be parents while navigating their partnership. Set in season 2.” Really interesting read! In-Progress. 9 Chapters so far.)

AUs:

One-shots

you, me, and the moon by @heart-eyes-santiago (“Amy Santiago's whole world is turned upside when her brother, Manny, invites his best friend and college roommate to stay for the summer. Enter Jake Peralta, his inability to win a game of scrabble, and his ability to win Amy's heart.” Cuuute!)

it’s shaking the sky, and I’m following lightning by @hotelsweet (“jake + amy + meet-cute on a plane = loveliness” Amaazingg! So fun, so cute!)

Untitled Prompt by @the-pontiac-bandit (“Meeting in the ER AU“ Amy is a young doctor and Jake is her patient. *wiggles eyebrows* It’s super fun and flirty, yay!)

Multi-Chapters

if you want me to stay, i will stay by your side by @elsaclack (“For someone whose job requires an unusually large amount of personal risk on a near daily basis, Amy Santiago has not dedicated much time considering how she might one day die. The vague assumption that it will probably happen on the job - via stray bullets or careening cars or massive explosions - has been enough to satisfy any musing.She never imagined doctor's visits or specialist consultations or diagnoses. She never imagined hospital gowns and thinning hair and chemotherapy. And she never, ever imagined cancer.“ 50/50 AU.The Ultimate Angst fic, but it’s amazing! (Better have some tissues ready, though.) In-Progress. 6/11 Chapters as of yet.)

Amy and Jake’s Epic Detour by @hotelsweet (”When 18 yr old Amy Santiago needs to make the trip to New York City for her first year of college, family friend Jake Peralta steps in as a favour- but the week that's about to follow is one that neither of them could have predicted.” THIS. This story is an experience, my friend, and you really should read this because it’s amazing and has an awesome playlist for every chapter and is just AMAZING, okay? Okay. Complete. 10 Chapters.)

everything is easier when you’re home by @sergeant-santiago (”Amy Santiago loves her new apartment. One bedroom, one bathroom, good neighborhood and decent rent. One thing she does not love? Her neighbors. More precisely, whoever lives in the apartment that shares a paper thin wall with hers.” Neighbor AU. Awesome! In-Progress. 4 Chapters so far.)

Camps Safe and Amusing by Talking_Bird (”Amy Santiago was NOT excited to be a camp counselor for a bunch of bratty twelve-year-olds, but she was even less excited to have a jerk like Jake Peralta be her group partner. A fluffy, slow-burn fic with awkward, nerdy Amy and cocky, insensitive Jake.“ Really cool and sweet, it has an awesome bet and everything! Complete. 8 Chapters.)

You’re the Only Song I Want to Hear by Talking_Bird (”Amy is having a really hard time adjusting to college life as an Art Major, but a mysterious pianist in the music conservatory keeps her sane // Jake just wants to do what he loves, but everyone else wants him to be practical. Everyone, that is, except for one person...College AU.” Highly recommended because it’s stupid good. Really. Plus, there is a great piano piece to go with each chapter. Complete. 10 Chapters. )

The Detective and The Squad by @three-drink-amy  (”Amy Santiago is a brilliant detective, quickly burning out on her job. Jake Peralta is a famous actor recently relocated to NYC for his new TV show "The Squad." What will happen when Amy is assigned to be the police consultant for Jake's new show?” Goood... Really good. In-Progress. 6 Chapters so far.)

around my heart like a coronary artery by @the-pontiac-bandit (”Amy Santiago enters NYU Medical School with prep books, a 60-set of colored pens, and a plan. Jake Peralta walks in with gummy bears and orange soda.” Medical students AU. Every chapter represents a year. AMAZING! In-Progress. 2/5 Chapters so far.) 

Sooo... this is a fic rec of quite respectable size, huh? ^^; Would anybody be interested in me continuing/updating this? Let me know! (I assembled this in various stages of consciousness/being awake, so I’m sorry if some of my “reviews/thoughts” on some of the fics are a little too rambly or short - I love them all so much, my dear writers; you are all incredibly awesome! 💕 )

[megsironthrone]

Found in the Godswood -pt.2

Multiple requests on here and on Wattpad! It took me a while, but I finally came up with a 2nd part! I do not own Robb, Talisa or Catelyn. They belong to George R.R.Martin.

Part 2/2 of “Found in the Godswood”. 

Warnings: Straight up angst. That’s literally it. The Red Wedding. 

Pairings/Characters: past!Robb Stark x modern!fem reader, Talisa Stark, Catelyn Stark. 

War. You hated it. It changed people. It changed Robb. As you watched from the shadows as he said his vows to Talisa, you cursed yourself again for falling in love with him. You had known what was going to happen and yet, you still let yourself love him. Somehow, between the your first kiss with Robb and now, something had shifted between you. Talisa had come into your lives and Robb fell for her. It wasn't that he didn't still love you, but he loved her more. It hurt, but at the same time, you had known!

               Sighing to yourself, you left your hiding space and made your way back to your tent. Except, you were stopped by Catelyn. "Y/N, child! Are you alright?" You did your best to smile. It was as if she was reading your mind. She gave you a knowing look and reached over to take your hand. "You know Robb still loves you, don't you? War changes men, but it does not change their hearts. I know he wishes he could marry you. He is only doing what he must in times of war. I know my son doesn't want to marry the Frey girl."

               You were fighting back tears. If only she knew. You could have told her. She would have gone to interrupt the ceremony the second the words were out of your mouth. But you couldn't do that. You weren't that vindictive. You wanted Robb to be happy. Besides, this is what was supposed to happen and you weren't even sure how much longer you'd be in Westeros. You never knew if you'd wake up one day back in your own bed. "Thank you, Lady Stark. I think I'll go to bed now. We have a long ride tomorrow." You escaped as quickly as possible.

               The next morning, you automatically knew Catelyn had found out about Robb and Talisa. You left your tent and saw Talisa standing outside Robb's. From inside their tent, you could hear Catelyn. "How could you do that?! Not only have you broken your oath to Lord Walder, but I am certain you have broken Y/N's heart as well. Your father and I did not raise you this way." You flinched at the mention of your name and glanced at Talisa.

               To your surprise, she didn't look mad or even a little upset. Her dark eyes were looking at you with guilt. "I didn't realize," she whispered. You shook your head. "It's not your fault, Talisa. Or I should say Your Grace. I knew from the start that Robb and I would never have worked." With that, you walked away. You were finding it difficult to even breath at that point. How could you? The love of your life was now married to someone else and it would only be a matter of time before you all journeyed to the Twins to marry Edmure Tully off to the Frey girl. It was only a matter of time before Robb would die. Not that you would tell anyone that.

*time skip*

               Your heart was threatening to beat right out of your chest as you rode into the Twins. You wanted to scream and at Robb and tell him it was a trap. But you knew it wouldn't change anything. After all, his love for you hadn't changed the fact that he married Talisa. As night drew nearer, you tried to wrack your brain for an idea. Any idea that could possibly change something. Could you save Robb? Could you save his mother? You doubted it, but you had to try.

               You sat on Talisa's other side during the feast, at Robb's insistence. You weren't sure if he was trying to get you and Talisa to be friends or what, but you couldn't even bring yourself to care. Your mind was bouncing all over the place. Perhaps you could convince Robb to sneak out before the bedding. You doubted it. However, an idea did spring to your mind. If you couldn't get Robb out, then maybe you could get Talisa and Catelyn out.

               You leaned over and whispered to Talisa, "I think I need a little air. I'm feeling a bit light headed." Talisa's brows furrowed. "Let me come with you." You glanced around, making sure everyone else was occupied. "I'd like that, thanks." You rose slowly from your seat. You were trying not to draw attention to yourself. Catelyn met your gaze across the room and, in true motherly fashion, she got up and followed you out as well.

               As soon as you were out, you grabbed Talisa's hand and pulled her over to your horses. "Y/N? What is going on?" You shook your head. "We have to get out of here. Now." Talisa shook her head. "Why? I'm not leaving Robb." Groaning, you turned to her. "Really, Talisa, I'm trying to save you! Please." Just as the words left your mouth, you heard the commotion inside. Yelling and the sound of swords clashing echoed out into the stables. "ROBB!" Talisa and Catelyn cried from their spots on their horses. You gave each horse a pat on the rump and they took off. You clamored up onto your own horse and rode off after them.

               When you felt that you were far enough away, you stopped your horses. Talisa turned to you, fire in her eyes. "WHY?! WHY DID YOU LEAVE HIM THERE?! YOU KILLED HIM!" You narrowed your eyes. "No, I didn't. Roose Bolton did. The Freys did. The Lannisters did. Not me." Talisa slid off her horse, her hand on her small baby bump. "I thought you loved him! But you left him to die!"

               "IT'S BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!" you screamed back.  You ran your hand through your hair and blinked back your tears. "Then how could you leave him there?" You walked over to her and placed your hand on her stomach. "Because of this! Robb would never have forgiven me if I had saved him and not you. He would have hated me. I know Robb would want you and your son or daughter to live. I chose to save you because he loved you. Would it have been easier on my already broken heart to leave you in there and try to save Robb? Absolutely. Would I have been happy? No because I would have stolen Robb's happiness away from him."

               Talisa simply stared at you. You turned away and wiped away the tears that had fallen despite your best efforts. "Y/N," Catelyn finally spoke up. You glanced over at her. Catelyn stepped closer and wiped away another stray tear. "You are a wonderful young woman." Your brows furrowed. "Not many women would save the wife of the man they love from death. Most women would let the wife be slaughtered and take the man for themselves. You saved the life of my grandchild even though it pained you to leave your heart behind. I will be forever grateful."

               You threw your arms around her and hugged her. "Thank you, Lady Stark. I'm sorry I couldn't save Robb too." She pressed a kiss to your cheek. "It's alright. I knew there was a chance he would die during this war and it is not your fault. You did what you felt was right. What Robb would have wanted you to do." You hugged her closely again, your sobs shaking both of you as you sank to your knees with her. Robb was gone and he was never coming back and here you were, holding onto his mother for dear life while his wife watched you break apart.

               Talisa was watching, but it was more like she was looking through you and Catelyn. She had loved Robb, there was no doubt in her mind, but she wondered about something. If the situation had been reversed, if you had been Robb's pregnant wife instead, would she have saved you and let Robb die? Or would she let you die? She didn't know, but she now realized just how much you truly cared for her husband and his child. She walked over and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered.

(a/n: I’m sorry. I don’t write angst often.)

@brewsthespirit-blog @gameofwinters @littlemisscaptainfandom @line-viper @etherealpotter

[hamiltons-of-fun]

Best little things in Hamilton act 2

What'd I miss - I’ve been fighting for the South alone Cabinet Battle #1 - Don’t act surprised, you guys, cuz I wrote ‘em OWW - Doin’ whatever the hell it is you do in Monticello? - Hey, turn around, bend over, I’ll show you Where my shoe fits -You don't have the votes, you don't have the votes AHHAHA Take a break -Un deUX TROIS QUATRE AND CIINNQQQ -My dearest,,,,,,,, Angelica -*Little laughing* Angelica, Eliiiza, (THIS LIL BROKEN VOICE) The Schuyler Sisters… -I cant stop till I get this plan through congress Say no to this -Longing for Angelica (okay but that just gets me, he was missing Eliza, but he was LONGING for Angelica) -Let her legs spread -Then her mouth is on mine and I don't say- NOOOOOO (ME TOO ENSEMBLE) -You see that was my wife you decided to- FUUUU -I don't know about any letter (stop crying God dammit, get up) I didn't know any better (I am ruined) The room where it happens -Talk less, smile more (Alex's lil impression of burr kills me) -Trumpets -Congress is fighting over where to put the capital— Ensemble screams in chaos -Burrs character development in this scene Cabinet Battle #2 -You must be out of your GOD DAMN MIND -Did you forget Lafayette Washington on your side -Look back at the Bill of Rights (which I wrote!) -Was gonna put Jefferson's entire second verse but -SOUTHERN MOTHERFUCKIN DEMOCRATIC REPUBLICANS One last time -I'm already crying -Jefferson started it -Why do you have to say goodbye? -I wanna sit under my own vine, and fig tree -Washington singing over Hamilton reading PLEASE (I promise myself to realize the sweet enjoyment of partaking) -LITERALLY THE VOCALS HERE LORD - George Washington's going home :,) - We're gonna teach them how to say goodbye The Adam's administration - Washington can’t help you now, no more Mr. nice President - JOHN YOU FAT MOTHER- Hurricane - I wrote Eliza love letters until she fell - She was holding me, I couldn't seem to die The Reynolds Pamphlet - NEVER GON BE PRESIDENT NOW DAYYUUMM - I'm not here for you - Put what we had aside (ANGELICA ADMITTINF THEIR AFFAIR) - You could never be satisfied, god I hope your satisfied - His poor wife Burn - I knew you were mine, You said you were mine. I thought were mine - When you were mine (past tense yikes) - Do you know what Angelica said - How they perceive you, you YOU YOU!! - When you broke her heartt - The world has no right to my heart! Blow us all away - I prob’ly shouldn’t brag, but, dag, I amaze and astonish - The ladies say my brain’s not where the resemblance stops - How ‘bout when I get back, we all strip down to our socks?OKKAAYAYU - Everything is legal in Jersey - My name is Philip, I am a poet. I’m a little nervous, but I can’t show it Stay alive reprise - Pa, I did exactly as you said, Pa, I held my head up high- I KNOW I KNOW - :,)) I WAS AIMING FOR THE SKY - Who did this, Alexander, did you know? (That note always has me shook) - We played piano, I taught you piano - The heartbeat lord - Sept huit neuf— Sept huit… It's quiet uptown - In my opinion this may be the best song in the entire Musical - You hold your child as tight as you can - The moments when you’re in so deep It feels easier to just swim down (perfect description of depression) - And I pray, That never used to happen before - Philip you would like it uptown You knock me out, I fall apart (DEAR THEODOSIA NO) - I know I don’t deserve you, Eliza - HE BASICALLY RESINGS THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH BUT THE INTENTION IS SO DIFFERENT - There is a grace too powerful to name - She takes his hand - Eliza's one line in the whole fucking song somehow Yanks everyone by the heart - Angelica singing this changes the whole ball game - Forgiveness, can you imagine? (Fu k) Election of 1800 - Can we get back to politics? - It might be nice, it might be nice, To get Hamilton on your side - BURR - We have fought on like 75 different fronts - Burr has none - Well I'll be damned - OOOH! Y’know what, we can change that! Your obedient servant - I wanna be in the room where it happens - Lord his voice is like butter - A.Burr, A.Ham Best of wives and Best of Women - Why do you write like you're running out of time- shhh - Fuck this song ouch The world was wide enough - The ensemble counting is fav - I avoid this song at all costs - Interesting that Burr narrates this - The same spot where Philip died - I watched as he methodically fiddled with the trigger - This man will not make an orphan of my daughter - It perfectly shows how your life flashes before your eyes before you die - My son is on the other side - Rise up, rise up, rise up Eliza - Burr’s WAIT - I hear wailing streets… - Death doesn't discriminate.. - I survived but I paid for it Who lives who dies who tells your story - I couldn't undo it if I tried, and I tried - Every other founding father story gets told, every other founding father gets to grow old (angelicas only part in the finale) - Eliza - She's buried in Trinity Church near you (shook) - Let's sum up Eliza's entire life in one song The orphanage - In their eyes I see you Alexander - It's only a matter of, time :,)

[dfroza]

Today’s reading in the ancient book of Psalms and Proverbs

for Saturday, february 29 of 2020 with Psalm 29 and Proverbs 29, accompanied by Psalm 71 for the 71st day of Winter and Psalm 60 for day 60 of the year

[Psalm 29]

A David Psalm

Bravo, God, bravo!

Gods and all angels shout, “Encore!”

In awe before the glory,

in awe before God’s visible power.

Stand at attention!

Dress your best to honor him!

God thunders across the waters,

Brilliant, his voice and his face, streaming brightness—

God, across the flood waters.

God’s thunder tympanic,

God’s thunder symphonic.

God’s thunder smashes cedars,

God topples the northern cedars.

The mountain ranges skip like spring colts,

The high ridges jump like wild kid goats.

God’s thunder spits fire.

God thunders, the wilderness quakes;

He makes the desert of Kadesh shake.

God’s thunder sets the oak trees dancing

A wild dance, whirling; the pelting rain strips their branches.

We fall to our knees—we call out, “Glory!”

Above the floodwaters is God’s throne

from which his power flows,

from which he rules the world.

God makes his people strong.

God gives his people peace.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 29 (The Message)

[Psalm 71]

I run for dear life to God,

I’ll never live to regret it.

Do what you do so well:

get me out of this mess and up on my feet.

Put your ear to the ground and listen,

give me space for salvation.

Be a guest room where I can retreat;

you said your door was always open!

You’re my salvation—my vast, granite fortress.

My God, free me from the grip of Wicked,

from the clutch of Bad and Bully.

You keep me going when times are tough—

my bedrock, God, since my childhood.

I’ve hung on you from the day of my birth,

the day you took me from the cradle;

I’ll never run out of praise.

Many gasp in alarm when they see me,

but you take me in stride.

Just as each day brims with your beauty,

my mouth brims with praise.

But don’t turn me out to pasture when I’m old

or put me on the shelf when I can’t pull my weight.

My enemies are talking behind my back,

watching for their chance to knife me.

The gossip is: “God has abandoned him.

Pounce on him now; no one will help him.”

God, don’t just watch from the sidelines.

Come on! Run to my side!

My accusers—make them lose face.

Those out to get me—make them look

Like idiots, while I stretch out, reaching for you,

and daily add praise to praise.

I’ll write the book on your righteousness,

talk up your salvation the livelong day,

never run out of good things to write or say.

I come in the power of the Lord God,

I post signs marking his right-of-way.

You got me when I was an unformed youth,

God, and taught me everything I know.

Now I’m telling the world your wonders;

I’ll keep at it until I’m old and gray.

God, don’t walk off and leave me

until I get out the news

Of your strong right arm to this world,

news of your power to the world yet to come,

Your famous and righteous

ways, O God.

God, you’ve done it all!

Who is quite like you?

You, who made me stare trouble in the face,

Turn me around;

Now let me look life in the face.

I’ve been to the bottom;

Bring me up, streaming with honors;

turn to me, be tender to me,

And I’ll take up the lute and thank you

to the tune of your faithfulness, God.

I’ll make music for you on a harp,

Holy One of Israel.

When I open up in song to you,

I let out lungsful of praise,

my rescued life a song.

All day long I’m chanting

about you and your righteous ways,

While those who tried to do me in

slink off looking ashamed.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 71 (The Message)

[Psalm 60]

A David Psalm, When He Fought Against Aram-naharaim and Aram-zobah and Joab Killed Twelve Thousand Edomites at the Valley of Salt

God! you walked off and left us,

kicked our defenses to bits

And stalked off angry.

Come back. Oh please, come back!

You shook earth to the foundations,

ripped open huge crevasses.

Heal the breaks! Everything’s

coming apart at the seams.

You made your people look doom in the face,

then gave us cheap wine to drown our troubles.

Then you planted a flag to rally your people,

an unfurled flag to look to for courage.

Now do something quickly, answer right now,

so the one you love best is saved.

That’s when God spoke in holy splendor,

“Bursting with joy,

I make a present of Shechem,

I hand out Succoth Valley as a gift.

Gilead’s in my pocket,

to say nothing of Manasseh.

Ephraim’s my hard hat,

Judah my hammer;

Moab’s a scrub bucket,

I mop the floor with Moab,

Spit on Edom,

rain fireworks all over Philistia.”

Who will take me to the thick of the fight?

Who’ll show me the road to Edom?

You aren’t giving up on us, are you, God?

refusing to go out with our troops?

Give us help for the hard task;

human help is worthless.

In God we’ll do our very best;

he’ll flatten the opposition for good.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 60 (The Message)

[Proverbs 29]

The one who remains defiant after repeated reprimands

will suddenly be shattered, and there will be no remedy for him.

When just leaders are in power, the citizens celebrate;

but when evil people gain control, their joys become moans.

An adult who loves wisdom and follows its ways gives his parents joy,

but one who hangs out with women of the street will lose everything.

A king brings stability to a land with his justice,

but one who makes unjust demands brings it to ruin.

The one who flatters his friend

is laying a trap that will catch his friend’s feet.

An evil person is sure to be trapped by his sin,

but a man who lives right is free to sing and be glad.

The just get involved with the poor and know their issues,

but the wicked cannot comprehend such concerns.

Mockers stir up a city and inflame passions,

but the wise know how to put out the fire and ease tensions.

When the wise go to court against a fool,

there will be ranting and raving but no resolution.

Bloodthirsty men despise those who are honest,

but the just find a way to help them.

A fool does not think before he unleashes his temper,

but a wise man holds back and remains quiet.

When it is known that a ruler listens to the words of liars,

soon he will have only scoundrels for advisors.

A poor man and his oppressor have this in common:

the Eternal created them and provides both with light and life.

The king who is fair in his treatment of the poor

will see his dynasty continue forever.

Corporal punishment and correction produce wisdom,

but a child left to follow his own willful way shames his mother.

When evil people are free to flourish, sin is on the rise,

but the just will surely see their destruction.

If you discipline your children, they will make your life easier

and refresh your soul.

Where there is no vision from God, the people run wild,

but those who adhere to God’s instruction know genuine happiness.

Words are not enough to correct a servant;

even if he understands, he will not respond.

Have you ever met someone who is overly eager to talk?

There is more hope for a fool than for him.

If you indulge your servant from early in life,

in the end it won’t go well for either of you.

A hot-head provokes quarrels,

and one mastered by anger commits all kinds of sins.

A person’s pride brings him down,

but one of humble spirit has a firm hold on honor and respect.

Anyone who teams up with a thief must despise his own life,

for he is bound by an oath to tell the truth and yet refuses.

If you fear other people, you are walking into a dangerous trap;

but if you trust in the Eternal, you will be safe.

Many people vie for special treatment from a ruler,

yet genuine justice proceeds from the Eternal.

The right-living are disgusted by the actions of the unjust;

likewise, the wicked are disgusted by the ways of the righteous.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 29 (The Voice)