#if you cant make out what is written here: left side is dexter saying no-no-no kevin KEVIN LISTEN!!!! GO! JUST RUN AWAY FROM ME!!!

[kaiju-z]

“Moonlight Tryst Under The Eclipse”

Right! So! A little clarification is in order! Um. So like. There’s this D&D show called “Role With Me”/”The Ties That Bind”. And the party have recently reached a high-tech Elven city and are learning all kinds of things about the society there. Including that they found fucking God fan fiction. Fan fiction written about Arkanos, God of Magic, who is also the elves’ God. And of Solomon, the God of Undeath. Who is basically enemy to all elven kind, after he convinced a group of them to worship him, in exchange for “immortality”, which is the secret origin of the drow in that world.

So like. It’s them. As like. A ship. They found shipfics and were reading them.

So this is basically inspired by that. And it’s a fic, “as written” by a writer in that world, that city. That internet. So yeah. It’s a fic, within a fic. ó ____ ó;;; That’s it. That’s the joke.

Also yes, you should watch Role WIth Me. Very Dark Souls/Witcher-ish. With a flavor of Bloodborne. Also lots of funnies between the rough stuff that our heroes go through.

An Arkanos/Solomon fanfic by RainbowRunner899

It was meant to be a distraction. A simple. Basic. Get your mind off the ear-splitting screams and wails distraction. A honest to yourself one. And yet here you were. Hours after the fact, still locked in an embrace with the long eared boy scout!

Arms around your body, you can easily feel his fingers trace every smooth pattern and ridge of your back as the stars shimmer and shake under his dexterous touch. Unlike your dark dealings in your domain beyond mortal comprehension, here you are incapable of hiding your intents and secrets. Or at least, the ones you can gesticulate.

Damn him! Damn this know-it-all paragon that bewitched you with his soft voice and alluring eyes! His words, his face, his everything! It drives you to madness! Like that’d mean anything to you, anyways. You were already unhinged. By some slight you yourself perceive as such. You blame your makers for it and have stated it as such to him, many a nights.

Many, upon many, for centuries, long since after he took his foolish followers and ran off into parts unknown, leaving you with your defiled flock of sycophants! You hate them, for they fell so easily and thus, you send them to do all sorts of cruelties. Just to test how far they’ll go for you. When they’d snap. Break. You figure that is why he had come out of hiding the first time, since your conflict. And confronted you.

The two of you had fought for dominance, throwing stars and supernovas at one another, frightening the populace around you. And, had it not been for his quick thinking and raised defenses, you two surely would have exterminated all life in the vicinity.

‘Damn him.’ you think, your face flushing as his hands move to your front, caressing the 8 pack. Damn him for seeing through your ruse that night. Through to the very core of who you were and why you did what you did! All that cruelty and anger! All of it, creating a Seeming of unseen proportions, hiding the broken man in need of help underneath.

Only he saw it! Neither Vanderen, nor Fleetfoot. Nor the old man and the revelry wench got even the slightest idea you had this secret pain! They were too stupid, too blind to see. But not Arkanos. He knew and he punished your body so with the palms of his hands. Your breathing growing heavy to his actions and you contemplate evasive maneuvers.

He reaches for your pa-aaand you grab his wrist. “No.” you go, hissing at him with a glare of pure death. Or undead. As is your aspect.

He looks at you with those gentle eyes. Those honest and wise eyes. “No?” he repeats, questioning you with his pretty little face. You’d bite your lip, if you had one. Then shake your head.

“No.” And you’d get up and try to make way out of the room, specifically by him, to protect you both from prying eyes. “I’m leaving. Going back, I-I have work to do. Monsters to raise. Many dark biddings to be made, Arkanos.” You growled, pitifully to show aggression. But he’s unmoving, unperturbed by your behavior as you struggle to put your robe back on. Damn thing! Did you start putting it with the wrong sleeve forward?! You’d struggle and huff and puff as you forced your head through a familiar opening and then flinch backwards, bumping into the wall.

“You’re having those thoughts again, aren’t you, Sol?” he asks you directly, his voice peaceful, like a river during summer. Disgusting. And beautiful, damn it! So beautiful! You think that as he had been standing right to face you once you put your head through the clothing. “Don’t lie to me. My eyes cannot be tricked, my ears cannot be lied to… and my heart- And he’d reach for his chest, tapping the left peck, before reaching over to tap your own.

You had no pulse. Not that it mattered. You were a god and who honestly cared about pulses, when you would live forever! Or unlive. Or-aaah, fuck it! You’d look away, scowling a boney scowl. “This game ends here, Arkanos. You’ve seduced me many a times before, but this ends now. You know you could never beat me in a fair fight and I know that you can’t backstab me like some mortal rogue under the pale moon light.” you scoffed, grabbing the door handle.

Twisting it, turning it. Opening the entrance and, in your case, the exit from his awkward situation. But right before you’d leave, the door would shut, without you even taking a full step ahead. You flinch, step backwards and bump into his frame. Then you have to straighten yourself as you attempt to prevent flushing of the cheeks. Straightening yourself and your clothing, you scoff. “Of course, right. Your wards.”

“Yes, Sol.” He’d smile a little smile your way and you feel your spine shiver. That cute smile that drove you crazy. After everything you did. All the people you killed and brought back as your meat and soul puppets! And he has the gall to smile at you like that.

“Well, undo it!” you try to regain footing. To find your equilibrium and tower over him, make yourself bigger, like one of those bear things that roam Fleetfoot’s forests. But intimidation does not work on him and you know it. He’s too brave. TOO STUPID, you try to think, but you know he’s too smart for you. Of all of them, even you, with all your dark and vile magicks, he was always the superior intellect.

He’d sigh a light sigh and glance over to the nearby window. It had been darkened off with the Darkness spell, which you made sure to cast, in case one of your flunkies or one of his randomly popped their head through. And he’d walk over to it, tapping it gently with a finger, dispelling. The sky appeared an odd mix of colors. It was familiar. Reminded you of your many birthdays. Yes, even the one good one you had all those millennia ago.

He’d wave a hand to you to step on over and join him at the glass separating you two from the outside. No words were needed. He had prepared the right set of movements, didn’t he?! A pregnant pause. And you go over, though you dare not look upwards at what the sky would be like. You just look down, no head in the clouds. Only down towards the muck.

“There is no shame in what you feel, Sol. You know that, right?” he’d say, side-glancing you every now and then as he faced the sky, while you watched the passerby folk, well, pass by. Wordlessly, you listen to him. And then have to find yourself blinking as the silence became deafening. Like he wanted a direct answer from you.

You’d grimace and cant your head some in a direction of your choosing. “I’ve killed and converted and had them kill… so many people. And you’re trying to psychoanalyze me, Arkanos. Don’t you find the flaw in that?!” he’d sneer. “The daddy of the elves meeting with the step dad of your little traitors. In secret and for centuries now. Isn’t that a little-Don’t you think that’s kind of fucked up?!” he’d not even raise a brow over your foul mouth. He was used to it.

He was used to keeping it occupied, too. Hmph!

“Is it really so crazy, Sol? Is it, though?” he’d smile again, resting a hand on your shoulder. “You. And I. Have such a history, spanning many a lifetimes of many a people. From the short-lived to the ancient. Friends. To rivals. To enemies. To friends…” he’d giggle and your face would change shades. It was a whole galactic party on your features. “To so much more.”

“Fuckbuddies.” he scoffed at your phrasing. He was used to the cussing, but that sort of direct crassness gave you a bit of an advantage… every now and then.

“Call it as you want, Sol. But I know the truth. I peered through your actions and your thoughts and I saw the real you… And I saw the broken pieces. They were there, inside you. Calling, screaming to be reshaped.” He spoke to you with such determination and passion. You’d mistake him for one of those new-fangled “bards”. “Is it honestly that big of a surprise that once you reached out as you did, I would reach back in turn?”

You look away. “After everything I put you and your kids through, how is that a surprise, Ark-“he has a hand on your cheekbone, slowly turning your face in his direction, as you sought to glance away in your shame and woe. “I-I mean-“

No time to finish the sentence. He pecks your face with his lips. Quick and focused. Your spine shivers at his advance. But you don’t really fight it, though you hate him pulling away.

“You are a lonely man, shrouded in a darkness of your own making. Unwilling to show the pain to those around you, fearing their response.” He’d say softly. “But I saw and I felt and I knew that day…”

“You knew…?” you asked.

He’d nod to you with a, well, knowing smile, his cheeks turning pink. It really didn’t take you that much to figure out what he meant.

“O-oh. Oh!”

“Yes.”

“Ohhhhh…” it was all you could say, while he glanced back out the window and you followed his gaze to the sky above. Where the moon had gone before the sun, creating a rare masterpiece that the mortals found fascinating as all hell. But to you? To you this was your birthday. Again, damn it, you’d bite your lip if you had that.

You feel his hand on your person. Fingers entangling with your own. You look to them. And you look to him. His eyes took that “look” again. A familiar one that the two of you would act upon  whenever the opportunity struck.

He walked back. And headed to the bed that faced the door, light step after light step, pulling you along. One knee on the bed. A creeking sound. His other knee on the mattress. A repeat. Shifting of weight as he pulled you on over.

You’d open your mouth to speak. “I-“

And he’d answer. “I know.”

Wordlessly, the two of you would lock faces and commiserate as he helped you take off the robe again. This time much slower and to the point than in a simple moment of passion. There was more feeling there.

As he’d undress you and you him, a thought would crawl into your mind.

Perhaps it was possible. Perhaps it was, yes, that the shattered insides of your soul could be put together again. Perhaps he could do it.

To Be Continued.

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Author’s notes: WONDERCRAK! Thank you, dear readers, for all the well wishes and kind words about the last story! Even you, KnuckleTucker3000. I appreciate the criticism on my grammar and took it to heart o w o! Wow, like, wow! So like, I was really excited to get to this part of the story, ‘cause, obviously I finally got to reveal what kinda day Solomon was born on u w u Next week’s continuation’s gonna get extra spicy, tho, so I have to bring back the reminder >8( This one’s for the grown-ups and it’s gonna be tagged NSFW! Don’t read if a Lemon Fic isn’t your thing! I’ll drop the hidden lore bits I’ll be putting in that one!

Stay tuned u w u, RainbowRunner899 out!

[nottodaylogic]

light.

Summary: EVEN MORE OF THE GAY LOGINCE! With a special question bECAUSE @shootingace / @ohbytheangel and I have NO. SELF. CONTROL. WHATSOEVER. Based on a post by @today-only-happens-once and dedicated, once more, to @sanders-sides-thuri :)

Pairing: Logince 

A/N: Takes place after sun., part 3/3 of the Logince Fluff series, written, again, with @shootingace :) this is the last part, super fun (and frustrating since I’ve never been to Olive Garden) to write! 

@hghrules @becca-becky @tinysidestrashcaptain 

Hope y’all like it! :D

The tile in one pocket and the box in the other seemed to almost, nonsensically, burn as Logan walked. They’d talked over this topic before, multiple times, so there was no logical reason to be nervous.

And yet.

“Date night?” he asked his boyfriend, kissing him on the cheek. Roman startled, accidentally mutilating the word he was typing. He just looked at it, betrayed. “I’ve prepared some activities,” Logan murmured.

Roman looked very excited. “Ooh, activities! I like activities!”

“I like you.”

Roman flushed, deep and red. “Aren’t you sappy today. What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion. I was simply stating a fact.” He hummed, extending his arm. “I have made reservations. Shall we leave?”

“Hold on, just let me finish this sentence.”

This meant “let me finish this scene because I have no self control and must write a lot even though there are other priorities.”

“Of course.” Logan dropped a kiss to Roman’s head and walked away swiftly to get his coat.

Ten minutes later, as he expected, Roman staggered in, haphazardly yanking his jacket on. Logan looked at his watch.

“Precisely on time.” He opened the door. “Come. Our destination awaits.”

“Where are we going?” Roman asked mischievously.

“You shall see.”

“Tell me? Pleeeeeease?”

Logan smirked, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to Roman’s lips. “Will that satisfy you for the time being?”

“Mmmm, I don’t think so.” Roman tugged Logan closer, kissing him deeply. He set his hand on the small of Logan’s back, like he was about to dip him, making Logan go breathless.

“Now will you tell?” Roman asked, pulling back.

“It’s a surprise,” Logan breathed, though he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep it a surprise if Roman insisted on making him fall even more in love.

Roman leaned in and whispered, “rude.” He then dropped him.

Logan scrambled to his feet, thankful for his 18 Dexterity. “Hey. We don’t have to go on the date if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to! It’s incredibly romantic, my dear. Surprises are exciting yet it’s so hard to wait!”

“As Virgil would say, ‘because you are an impatient baby’.” Logan guestuted forward, towards the car. “After you.”

—

Logan pulled into the parking lot. There weren’t many decent spots, but he managed to grab one.

Roman turned to him excitedly, seeing their destination. “Ooh, Olive Garden?”

“I come prepared to woo the server into giving us extra breadsticks to take home.”

“You’re the best.”

Logan blushed softly. “Thank you. Now, our reservation awaits us.”

They entered the restaurant and were seated right away, thanks to Logan planning ahead and making a reservation.

“Your server will be right with you,” the host said, showing them to their table.

Roman pulled out Logan’s chair dramatically. “Monsieur, your chair?”

Logan rolled his eyes. He sat down, pushing out Roman’s chair with his foot. “There. Now we are even.”

“You’re a nerd,” Roman said fondly.

Logan inhaled, ready to refute this claim, but instead said only: “I know.”

“Wow. And you say I have an ego.”

“It is true, why are you pointing that out?” Logan was confused and a bit flustered by how sweet Roman was being.

Roman snorted. “You’re adorable.”

“No, I am very serious. I am not adorable. Patton is the adorable one.”

“That’s true, but it doesn’t mean you’re not adorable.”

That’s when a server came up to their table, preventing Logan from protesting more. “Hey, I’m Remy, can I get you anything to get started?” He set a menu in front of the couple.

“Breadsticks,” Roman said, at the same time Logan said, “water, please.”

“Of course. Some waters and a basket of breadsticks?”

They nodded and Remy left. The two chatted about movies that they hoped to watch, the drama that Logan heard from his students, how Roman’s characters were behaving.

“I try to get them to do something! And usually, they’re pretty good with cooperating. Just, these past few days, they just… won’t.”

“Can’t you simply… make them do it?”

Roman made distressed noises. “But I can’t! It feels weird then, and out of character! Okay, okay, enough about my distress. Spill the tea that you hear from your students.”

“Alright.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “You will not believe what Lizzie told me Justin K. did…”

Roman clapped excitedly. “Ooh, that idiot Justin! What did he do this time?”

“Well…”

Logan told him, Roman’s grin growing, becoming more and more mischievous.

“So let me get this gay. He told this teacher, who was literally eight months pregnant, that he didn’t think women needed a maternity leave?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he ever been pregnant? Or given birth?”

Logan laughed. He loved Roman so, so, much. “Not that I know of.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I know that teachers aren’t supposed to have favorites, but Justin is definitely on my ‘not a favorite’ list. Not that I have any such thing.”

“You know, I think we’re supposed to be deciding what to order right now,” Roman mentioned.

“As if you don’t get the same exact thing every time we come here.”

“You got me there.”

“That’s a meme.”

“You got me there.”

Logan stifled a laugh. “I love you.”

Roman smiled. “Love you too.”

That’s when Remy came back to take their orders. Roman ordered spaghetti and tomato soup. Logan ordered lasagna and a Greek salad. A chat and two baskets of breadsticks later, their dinner had arrived.

Logan ate his lasagna and laughed at Roman’s jokes, but the weight in his pocket—why did he bring the ring, it might get lost, he didn’t need it, this is illogical—was very present in his mind.

And worse was the nagging thought that Roman might say no. Of course, they had talked about marriage, but you could never be completely sure of an outcome.

“Something on your mind?” Roman asked, his foot brushing Logan’s.

Logan smiled. “You.”

Roman laughed. “You’re so sweet. It’s great.”

And with those words, that laugh, Logan felt himself drawn back into the moment, the fears of a future yes or no gone for the time being.

—

When they returned back home, Logan brought out the scrabble board.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “Not even gonna ask me if I wanna play this?”

“You’ve been bringing up how you want to play Scrabble for ten days now.”

“True.”

They set it up, Logan allowed his boyfriend to pick the starting word (LADDER) (“what? It’s the only thing I can do!”), and the game began.

“Your turn,” Roman said, gesturing to the board.

Logan set down the letters R, O, M, A, and N.

“Hey, no! That doesn’t count, it’s a proper noun!”

“I’ve let you get away with many proper nouns over the years. Cut me some slack.” Logan sat back, gesturing to the board. “You go.”

Roman put down O, P, and E to write NOPE.

Logan tried not to take this as a bad omen.

He then added L, O, V to the E in NOPE, making it LOVE.

“Awww, you sap,” Roman teased, swooning. “That’s so sweet.”

They continued playing, Logan adding FOREVER and DEDICATION to Roman’s words (OCEAN and DISBELIEF)

“Is something amiss?” Roman felt his forehead, looking overly concerned for the comedic effect. “You seem to be exceedingly sentimental today.”

Logan brushed this off with a, “It was simply what I could make with my letters and the board.”

Roman eyed him curiously, but dropped the topic. “Your turn.”

Logan wordlessly set down his piece, putting it right next to ROMAN, so that it read ROMAN, will you marry me?

Roman started to protest about how “that’s not in the rules of the game, Logan!”, but then he stopped, obviously having read the piece.

His eyes snapped up, meeting Logan’s.

“You… you… Logan.” It seemed he couldn’t say anything more.

Logan slid out his chair, dropping to one knee, holding the box with the ring in front of him. “Marry me, Roman Princeton?”

“Lo… Logan, oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.” And then he was out of his chair, too, stumbling towards Logan. He leaned down, taking Logan’s face in his hands, kissing him softly. “Yes, yes, of course, yes.”

Logan let Roman pull him to his feet, his arms around Roman’s waist, holding him tight. “Roman. I love you. I love every moment we’ve spent together. I treasure every memory I share with you. And I’d like to make more memories with you. For the rest of forever.”

Roman nodded, pressing his his forehead to Logan’s shoulder. “Yes,” he choked out.

“Hey, Ro, don’t cry,” Logan whispered, rubbing Roman’s crisp, clean shirt between his fingers. “Don’t cry.”

But he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t crying a little too.

Because finally, finally, he would be marrying the love of his life.

Because… because he just loved Roman so much, loved him so much that sometimes he didn’t know what to do with all the feelings.

Because Roman was going to be his, his, forever and ever and ever.

“I love you so damn much, Roman.”

“I love you too.” Roman pulled back slightly, holding his hand out. “You going to… you going to actually put that ring on me?”

Logan laughed softly and slid the ring onto Roman’s finger, then pull Roman’s hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “I love you. I love you so much, Ro.”

“I know.”

Logan laughed, pulling Roman close and kissing him. “You're wonderful, Princey.”

“Mmm, I know.” Logan stared at Roman, deadpan. “Just kidding, you are too.” Roman nudged Logan’s chin with his nose then kissed his cheek. “Love you. So freaking much.”

“Dance with me?” Logan asked, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could really process what he was asking.

“Where’s the music?”

Logan tilted his head. “Sing?”

Roman snorted. “Well, we need some sort of background music, Lo. I can’t sing if I’m gonna kiss you, and I’d very much like to kiss you.”

Logan blushed, his breath catching in his chest.

“C’mon, babe,” Roman said. “Music.”

So Logan grabbed his phone, pulling up the “romantic songs for my nerd” playlist Roman had made for him.

On came As Long As You’re Mine from Wicked, and Logan pulled Roman close.

They danced and twirled and laughed together, Logan falling more and more in love. Roman was so beautiful, so loving, and Logan got to spend the rest of his live with him.

“I love you, Roman.”

“Yeah?” Roman whispered.

“Yeah.”

“Prove it.”

So Logan twirled Roman, then pulled him back, dipping him and kissing him softly.

Roman let out a soft gasp. “I love you so much,” he murmured, tangling his fingers in Logan’s hair.

“Love you too.”

—

Later, they lay on the bed together, staring at the ceiling, tired, content.

Roman curled up on Logan’s chest, so beautifully exhausted. “How long were you planning to propose?”

Logan thought for a moment. “A little while.”

“How long did you know you wanted to marry me?”

Running his hands through his fiancé’s hair, he responded, “Forever, probably. I just—I never imagined my future without you. And then a few weeks ago I realized that why not get married?”

Roman seemed to think this through for a moment when he asked, “Why me?”

The question took Logan by surprise. “Why you what?”

Roman looked directly into Logan’s eyes. The expression there was raw, unable to be described. “Why did you want to marry me?”

Because you’re the only person I’d ever want to marry. Because you’re the only person I’d ever want. Because you’re stellar. Because you’re funny and sweet and dramatic and unique and loving and thoughtful and romantic. Because despite loving you, I can’t find the vocabulary to express all of this. “Because I love you.”

“Aww, Lo.” Roman reached up, kissing Logan softly. “Now we get to plan a wedding.”

“But first we should go to bed.”

Roman’s eyebrows raised as he smirked, and Logan only slightly regretted his phrasing. “As you wish.”

Logan blushed, but nobody could prove it, so what did it matter?

—

Logan woke first in the morning, a stream of light illuminating the room. He glanced down at Roman, snoring, the ring on his finger shining.

And Logan knew that they would get to spend the rest of their lives like this.