Captain Lumiere - Tumblr Posts
I’d like to request something for Leonardo and MC if possible - just something, anything! that shows him in a moment of pure happiness, no angst or moping for that sad man. No being depressed about immortality this time, that poor guy. It’s way too tempting to torture him so I’d love something sweet for him 💖 Thank you so much 😊
A/N: Here you go anon! I hope you enjoy!
Fluff and fluff
tw: descriptions of writer's block
There is nothing like the feeling of sitting down in front of a blank page and watching as something that existed only in your mind comes to life before you. When inspiration ignites the flame of creation, when creativity bursts forth and flows freely, coloring the world with your vision. Except when it just……..doesn’t.
Cross-legged on Leonardo’s bed, you stare pensively down at the leather-bound notebook in front of you, pencil in hand. His bedroom is awash in candlelight, Mozart’s late night composing floating faintly through the air. Hmph, at least someone’s inspired tonight.
You’re wrapped up in one of Leonardo’s soft, white linen shirts, your favorite thing to sleep in, his scent like a warm embrace. "Perfect writing conditions", you mutter, irritated as you shift, pushing yourself up against the pillows. Everything is set up for you to create and yet….nothing. All you have are the bullet points and notes you’ve scribbled, tiny dough-like drabbles, unformed and just….sitting there.
This is the state you are in when Leonardo returns from his card game with Comte, Arthur and Theo. You can tell by the way he’s grinning that he’s beaten them. Again.
“There she is, Luce della mia vita.” He’s in a good mood, his voice almost singsong as he closes the door behind him.
He throws his jacket over a chair already overrun by books in one fluid motion and kicks his boots off without having to bend down, expert levels of ease and laziness on display. With a yawn, he lowers himself onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs, a lion coming to rest after a long day on the Savannah. One hand reaches down, his warm palm running over the exposed skin of your thigh, a gesture of familiar, casual possession.
“Whatcha working on?” He continues to touch you as he lifts himself up onto one elbow, peering over at the notebook in your lap.
You sigh, frustration still poking at you like a thousand, red-hot needles.
“I’m trying to write a story. You know, for the Children’s Day celebration next week. I thought it might be nice to offer to read something original to the kids who need a break from the day’s festivities.”
Affection softens the smile on his lips and lights up the gold of his eyes.
“That’s a great idea, cara mia.”
The pencil falls from your fingers onto the notebook, defeat slinking ever closer.
“It would be if I could just come up with…..something.” You know you’re moping, but your mind feels stuffed with musty straw and you can’t seem to clear it.
His touch turns soothing as he runs his fingers over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, leaning down to press a kiss just above your bent knee, then laying his cheek against you. You reach down to touch him, tearing your gaze away from the mocking blank pages in front of you, focusing on the way your fingers look as they brush back his soft hair, the way they sink into it, disappearing for a moment and then emerge when you reach the pale ends. Another sigh, not of dismay but the moment of comfort, like the echo of satisfaction after a first sip of warm tea on a cold winter’s day. With him here, the disappointment you’ve been wrestling with for hours has a safe place to go, someone who will gather it in his hands and try to help you spin straw into gold.
“Alright then.”
He draws himself up, leaning back against the pillows of his bed. Once settled, he hums as he gathers you close, a sound that reverberates inside you in the most pleasant way. He picks up the pencil you dropped and holds it out to you, wiggling it until you take it from him with an indulgent roll of your eyes.
“Tell me what you have so far. I’m all ears, yeah?”
Tucked against him isn’t the most comfortable way to sit if you’re trying to read but you accept it if it means you can be close to him like this, his warmth a balm to your fraying nerves.
“Don’t laugh.”
Both brows shoot up, his expression the innocence of angels.
“Never, cara mia.”
Mm hm. Using your pencil, you tap the bullet points you’ve made with ideas.
“This is the story of Captain Lumiere, a fierce pirate who sails the seven seas in search of treasure.”
Leonardo grins slowly, stretching out his bare foot to tap the ball of black fur on the very far corner of the bed.
“Do you hear that, Lumi? You’re a pirate.”
Lumiere lifts his head for a moment, yellow eyes blinking sleepily, decides he isn’t interested in the slightest in whatever nonsense you two are up to and curls himself back into an even tighter ball, whiskers disappearing as he tucks his head away.
“Monello”, murmurs Leonardo, lips curved upwards. Brat. He turns his attention back to you, raising one long finger to run over the page as he reads your notes.
“Hmm…so Captain Lumiere decides to go after the treasure of La Sirena, a sea witch with a legendary treasure chest of gold and jewels.”
You nod, shifting on the bed. “On his way to find the treasure, he fights an evil sea monster, a giant squid with long, sticky tentacles that attacks his ship.”
“What is the monster’s name?”
You bite the inside of your cheek, contemplating. “Arthur?”
He laughs, golden sparks of sunshine raining down on you, covering you in warmth. “Perfetto. Go on.”
“And there is a big storm…..and….then I don’t know.” Again you feel like cotton is smothering the creative part of your mind, absorbing any ideas before they even have a chance to form.
He is quiet a moment, staring up at the ceiling as he thinks. You can almost see the wheels of his mind as they turn, the way the cogs and gears move effortlessly, processing any problem you throw at him.
“What if….Captain Lumiere, brave soul that he is, survives the storm only to be shipwrecked on an island…..which just so happens to be where La Sirena resides.”
His words dig into the cotton, begin slowly raking it away. You feel the smallest sparks of an idea starting to form.
“Oh! He could have an actual confrontation with her! A fight for her treasure.”
Leonardo’s hand travels absently down your shoulder to the ends of your hair where he slowly curls the ends around one finger. “Why fight? Lumiere is a lover.”
You glance at the black furball on the end of the bed who is ignoring the both of you like a champion.
“A lover.” You glance at Leonardo, skepticism showing itself in the arch of your brow.
“Yeah,” he says with a lazy grin. “Write that down.” He sounds excited and it is infectious. You give into it and to him with a shake of your head and a smile. Bubbles of creativity rise inside of you like prosecco, sparking excitement as you begin adding notes to the pages.
“He could fall in love with La Sirena!”
“Abelina.”
You turn your head. “What?”
Deadly serious, he nods. “Yeah, La Sirena’s name is Abelina.” He pokes at your notebook. “C’mon. Write that down too.”
Comte will be thrilled, you think with a grin as you add the note. Together, you and Leonardo work out the epic saga of Captain Lumiere, his quest for treasure, his battle with the tentacled Arthur, his passionate love for Abelina and their eventual settlement on the island where they decide to gift the treasure to the next brave soul that finds them because, as it turns out, they don’t need it. Lumiere and Abelina have found love, and that is the greatest treasure of all.
Some time later, when time is measured by yawns and sleepy smiles, you close the notebook and lay it on the nightstand as Leonardo snuffs out all the candles in the room except one. You hear the rustle of his clothing as it falls to the ground. Your love sleeps in the nude, a fact you’ll never lament. You pull back the covers for him as he slides into bed next you and roll into the waiting circle of his arms, relishing the feel of his long body against yours.
“Thank you for helping me tonight.” You speak softly now in the intimate darkness of night.
He turns his head, his lips touching your forehead in a gentle kiss.
“Certo, tesoro mio.” His voice is the soft night breeze over fields of sleeping lavender. “Now rest, my beautiful scribe. I’ll keep you safe from storms and sirens.”
“You better or else I’ll send the ferocious Captain after you.”
The sound of the ferocious Captain purring fiercely in his slumber reaches both of you at the same time, and the last sound you hear as you snuggle close to the man you love is his velveteen laughter sending you off to dream.
*
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