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#and im also obsessed with the idea of wanting to be private about seeing princess peach smoke weed
hobbinch · 1 year
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Im curious as to which character smoking weed has caught ur eye, should u b willing to share
It was princess peach lmao
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all-pacas · 2 months
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i read all your house fics over the past few days and i love your style of writing. the dialogue fits the characters and show so well, idk what it is about it but it just clicks in my head and i can hear their voices while i read it. and all of their internal monologues are just perfect. i love the grasp you have on the ducklings' backstories and motivations its seriously inspired :))
now im trying to work on the oneshot idea ive been stewing over for an entire year, about chase being house's only fellow pre-canon, which seems like a weird and absurd situation to me. the idea is that something must have happened for him to basically be secured as house's fellow, but he also has to realize himself that he passed house's mysterious criteria. any specific tips for writing him? especially younger him?
Oh wow that’s so flattering! And SUCH a good idea for a fanfic, I’m also lowkey obsessed with the mysterious year (!) Chase spent with House pre-series lmao. Like I think we all agree, there’s no way House would have kept him just because his dad called, right? I actually can’t think of a way to get someone fired faster than telling House he has to employ this kid.
I have no idea for tips, because I feel like I still kind of am like ??? when it comes to Chase. But I’m also always happy to yell about god’s least favorite princess:
Chase is kinda passive-aggressive! He will do his best to avoid and freeze out his problems. When everyone is trying to talk to him about his dad, he ignores, refuses to engage, literally walks away. When House confronts him about the nun in S1, Chase doesn’t actually confirm that he’s Catholic, even: he just changes the subject to “I bet the nun’s boss knows about her.” By implication, he confirms House is right, but he never says shit. He’s private as hell. Likewise, he gets touchy when people “pry.” We also see it in his relationship with Cameron, to an extent: it bothers him for a long while that she never makes him feel welcome at her apartment, but he doesn’t say anything, just lowkey makes sure they’re always at his. 
He also tends to be conflict avoidant. When Cameron and Foreman are fighting over the “stolen” article, they both try to get him on their side, and he tells them both what they want to hear. He doesn’t defend himself against House’s bullying, Foreman tells him to his face a couple of times that he doesn’t like him and Chase says nothing. However, this doesn’t mean he’s that easy going. We see with his dad he will hold a fucking grudge forever — even in S5 he’s talking about how much he hated him, and in S8 and how he talks about his mother, we see he hasn’t stopped hating her, either. Also he calls out Foreman a couple of times, either by just being a little bitch (telling a patient “Foreman doesn’t like me either” while Foreman is right there) or by just laying things out for him (S7′s “oh, you think you’re better than me?” stairway rant). It also doesn’t mean Chase is totally spineless and has no boundaries. With Cameron, he actually dumps her when she tries to avoid him over the engagement, and has no problem calling off the wedding over sperm-gate. When things matter to him, he’ll stand up for himself; he just prefers to freeze out or avoid conflict. He also has no problem in confronting House when he feels like it. He’s not very scared of House, House just doesn’t bother him.
He also gains more… let’s call it confidence… as time goes on. Chase always seems to be pretty secure in his self-worth and idea of himself (and NEVER willingly opens up to other people), but over time he definitely becomes a little punchier. In S1-3 he’s willing to just sort of roll his eyes and take it when things happen, but by S4-5 he’s happy to call House or Foreman out and argue instead of just letting things go (passive-aggressively). He never gets any better at emotional honesty (his “punch House instead of talking about his divorce” thing is straight out of his S1 daddy issues playbook), but he does grow something of a spine. I imagine before the show started, he was even less prone to fighting back beyond snarky comments.
He genuinely finds House funny. He almost always laughs at House’s stupidest jokes, and as much as he’s accused of being an asskisser, he. Really just does think House is funny. Foreman and Cameron hardly ever react to House’s little comments, Chase is always grinning along. This is important. Chase’s sense of humor sucks! He is an idiot! He likes House. In S1 he says he likes how direct House is, there’s the way he always laughs at House’s jokes, he is absolutely a huge suck up also but he also likes House. I think pre-canon this was absolutely still the case. House comes in all prepared to make this little nepo-baby cry and instead Chase not just imprints on him but thinks he’s so funny and admires how mean he is and how smart he is. Chase really likes his job. He says it a lot, but I don’t know if it gets focused on all that much. He ratted to Vogler because he wanted to keep his job, he makes comments many times about how he won’t risk his job. He likes working for House, he wants to keep doing it, he will ass-kiss and work hard and throw people under the bus to keep it: with the Vogler situation, he was pretty willing to fight Cameron for it, and he and Cameron usually get along!
He’s very observant when he wants to be. He gets House; from his little monologue to Wilson in Private Lives we see he basically can analyze “House is looking at a book” and figure out it’s a fake book and that House is really invested in it. In S3, he’s able to pick apart House and Foreman’s resignation drama over like. Two sentences. In ‘Nobody’s Fault’ in S8, Chase is pissed with House (for really the first time ever), but also sees through his excuses to do differentials in the OR as excuses for House to check in, he knows House is worried: in S5, Chase realizes House is broken up about his father’s death without even seeing him. This is also something House appreciates about Chase, a lot. He says in S3 it’s why he hired him; House also tends to “reward” Chase by being pretty honest with him. When Chase asks him something, House usually answers him honestly. (with Foreman’s resignation, as soon as Chase calls him out, House admits it and they have an honest conversation on what House should do next; in S5, House wants a surgery done for personal reasons and admits it and why when Chase asks.) 
I think part of this is because Chase actually very rarely does ask House anything, and he never makes demands on House or his feelings. He accepts at face value that House is “fine” during Detox, he doesn’t try and fix or change him, in “Half Wit” when the others are scheming to get House tested or make amends with him, Chase tries (and fails) to act normal, and then just wants a hug. Compare like. Cameron, who keeps trying to change or push House into acting how she wants him to act (blackmailing him into a date, for example). I’m not saying House doesn’t care about her, just. House is more open with Chase than he is with a lot of people who aren’t Wilson. Also, Chase does not return the favor. He literally ran up the stairs rather than tell House about his daddy issues, lmao. It’s kind of crazy that House is arguably more open and honest with Chase than vice-versa.
Finally, despite all his secret seething passive-aggression and daddy issues, and the fact that honestly Chase could really benefit from therapy and anti-depressants? He is not a sad uwu baby. This is sort of a general rant, but. You see it all the tiiime in fanfic. And yes, he’s super fucked up. But he’s cheerful most of the time! He likes doing crazy things, he is often pretty sarcastic and makes bad jokes! He’s a flirt, even before his S7 manwhore days — in early seasons we see him check out girls in the hallways, flirt at parties, with residents and nurses. He has hobbies (he’s fairly sporty, if Cameron’s “your apartment was decorated by a drunk rugby player” comment is anything to go on), he likes to read and do crossword puzzles and surfs and skis. He tells bad jokes. He tends to be fairly self confident — he doesn’t just take it when he’s accused of making mistakes, he has no problems with social situations or interactions, he hilariously thinks women are attracted to his personality and not his looks, like, he thinks he has a winning personality, that’s incredibly funny. He’s not arrogant in that he doesn’t really have much of a need to prove himself (he’s pretty fucking unambitious, actually), but he definitely has the Good Looking Rich Kid mentality where he thinks he belongs in any given situation and that people like him. He also has the social skills to back it up. Because he represses and avoids and seethes instead of expressing emotions, he comes off as generally cheerful and laid back, you know? Why be sad when you can just repress everything and flirt with nurses instead!
Finally finally: he's a huge fucking crybaby. Have you seen how red his eyes get. He might try to be stoic and repress but he tears up at the drop of a hat. First time House bullied him he probably started to cry.
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alviearts · 7 months
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Hi! I was trying to figure out the least awkward way to talk about Silver gender stuff and settled on this but please don't feel like you have to answer publicly if you don't want. So it's in this series, which basically takes off from the idea of Flint teaching Silver to cook after the pig roasting scene - Silver goes to him and says if you want me to keep up this illusion you have to keep teaching me. There are definitely hints in the second installment, but it's the last chapter of the third one where it really goes all out; Silver ends up dressed in silk and jewels from a prize, and gets treated like the pretty princess he deserves to be 🥰 I'm really interested in Silver's relationship with gender because of how he plays with identity in different ways, and how he sort of refuses to engage in some of the classic hypermasculine pirate stuff, he doesn't claim to be brave and tough and able to fight, that's not where his power comes from, in fact he actively undermines that image with the addresses and such, he gets by being charming and nonthreatening which can be perceived as a more feminine way of moving through the world. And I'm interested in how that interacts with some of the softness we see from Flint in private, even though he IS projecting that hypermasculine image as captain to some extent.
Anyway sorry for rambling, I'm obsessed with that art and I'm convinced it would taste of the same lovely lavender as the shade of the dress <3 Thank you so much for sharing, and I can't wait to see a version with the fancy prosthetic if you end up doing one.
Oh PS that fic also references Flint doing some gender play stuff in London with the Hamiltons... a favorite headcanon, he would love to be able to take a break from the roles he assumes... there is so much potential for both of them.
YAYYAY SILVER GENDER TIME
ive actually read that series!! and i love it, its so good! it definitely made me want to draw silver in a dress even more. (tho i'd already designed the dress before reading it)
i love the observation that he doesnt engage in the typical pirate masculinity, or place his worth in his physical strength or battle prowess. some characters in other shows would be highly demeaned for moving through the world this way (cough cough starscream transformers) but silver isnt--he's shown as a formidable enemy, both to flint at the start of the show and to anyone who would oppose him at the end... including, again, flint. who is, like you said, projecting a hypermasculine image as captain. even if that isnt exactly who he is inside, he places his outward worth as captain on his ability to intimidate, his ability in a fight, his success by typical pirate standards. so the fact that silver, who makes his success in a more stereotypically feminine way, triumphs over him is interesting to me. normally feminine men, men who move through the world the way silver does, would be demeaned by the characters and the plot, shown to be incompetent or lesser. but not in black sails <3
and im so glad you like my painting, i loved making it but was a little worried that nobody would like it or see value in it due to the ahistorical nature and, of course, the fact that i drew a pirate in a dress--WITH leg hair which. people seem to think if you wear a dress you cant have leg hair. which is weird lol. i didnt want to play into that. i think hairy men can also be femme and wear dresses and they look good doing it <3
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tired-biscuit · 4 months
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this is like maybe a little specific and really just me rambling
but FIRST of all im obsessed with your portrayal of kiba. he's like always been my fav but his content is so limited so its been away since my imagination flew but phew these last few days reading your blog has been a journey.
but back to the ramble ive been thinking a lot of the brother's bsf trope for him. at first i was riding naru bc bros but then i thought about sasu and the whole prideful uchiha vibe. even in the modern version, then just being like these corporate giants alongside the hyugas and the other ‘noble’ clans. and like maybe kiba isn’t really bsfs with sasu but like the whole ‘genin’ growing up around each other thing. probably all just went through the same school system.
ANYWAY rambles
i imagine like the uchiha ‘princess’, the only daughter and youngest sibling to sasu and ita. and like she’s just really grown up with that whole corpo royalty vibe, getting everything she wants, always supervised low key suppressed LIKE NOTHING NEW HERE low-key maybe even loosely in talks of being engaged to one of the ally corps like hyugas or something the point is its SCREAMING corruption for kiba. like the forbidden fruit. subtle classism, like kiba’s family isn’t what the uchihas would envision for her but like I just imagine her sneaking out with her brother to a uni party or something (like maybe sasu got to go to a public uni and she got the private treatment) and just like bumping into kiba in all his alpha buff man-ness and just like that first spark of lust just like overwhelms her like doesn’t even know whats going on but OH BOY KIbA does and he’s just like ‘yeah I got what you need bbygirl’ and yeah. Asdfsjhkgrhgo I have a lot of thoughts sorry for all the words 🐣
i don’t see kiba and sasuke being friends because kiba is too big of a hater, BUT i think that would even add more to the appeal because, like… he can act like a real proper shithead towards the people he doesn’t particularly like, so scoring sasuke’s little sister? yeah, he’d definitely try it just to get a sense of some kind of victory from it.
and i think it’d be the initial motive at first — the whole ‘haha, i fucked your sister, whatcha gonna do ‘bout it?’ — but then one thing leads to another and suddenly he’s caught… feelings. feelings that he doesn’t really know how to comprehend yet, and it’s weird because you’re like his exact opposite; so fancy and with your nose upturned whenever he winds up in your presence, pushing your whole princess agenda forward. and he knows that he should find it annoying because you’re acting just like your equally as annoying brother, but instead he’s catching himself thinking about you more and more and he’s almost finding it entertaining. pestering you is almost fun to him.
i think he’d wonder what you’d look like without the make up and the pretty skirt. what you’d look like with messy hair instead of it being in that almosy eerie state where each strand is sitting perfectly in place. he wants to see actual sweat coating your face instead of that matt powder he’s seen you reapply once or twice before because you hate the shine on your forehead. he wants to fuck you nasty and ruin that idea of you being a perfect girl in every single situation just so that he can see what you’re really like underneath.
besides that, i also imagine him initially pursuing you because he hates, hates, hates the whole idea behind noble clans, as well as the set of strict, mostly unfair rules that they’ve got going on, because of what they did to hinata. so if you’re his ticket to fuck with them a little bit, hey, why not?
you would find him appealing because he just simply does not give a shit what anybody thinks. he might get pissed off if someone insults him, sure, but he still ends up doing whatever it is that he wants in that moment and he doesn’t apologize for it. plus, his clan is more like one big family instead of a picture on the wall where everyone is smiling their most perfect grin despite the fact that their eyes still end up looking cold.
he’s warm, you know? carefree and dumb and not uptight at all. he finds joy in the little things and instead of spending money on fancy dinners, he buys things cheap because he’s saving up for a roadtrip that he’s planning to go on this summer with his shitty truck. he doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty and he loves his dog more than most people.
…and he’s also the first man who actually looks you in the eyes and tells you you’re full of shit when you start acting bratty and deserve to be called out for it. he treats you like a person instead of delicate glass.
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mimiplaysgames · 3 years
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Terraqua Week Day 6 (Free Day)
Summary: Terra and Aqua are getting married—and Ven is the Bridezilla. || Word Count: 9,058
Read on AO3
A/N: @terraquaweek​ I could have never written this without my dear friend @localcryptideli​. We talked about this wedding years ago, and I promised to write it. It’s here, three years later, blending their headcanons with mine and I couldn’t be more proud of it. <3
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
the threads that tie hearts together
Terra never once considered in his entire life that his wedding preparations would include the perk of mice squeaking in his ear—but he here is, in the tailor’s studio, getting re-fitted for his tuxedo, with Princess Cinderella’s team of seamstress mice on his shoulders, measuring the length of his arms. His muscles were too big for the previous suit. 
Ven refuses to hire a proper tailor, and instead rents out the parlor so the mice could do their work in private.
Lea sits on a nearby bench by the shoe shelves, the top button of his shirt open, jabbing at his Gummiphone. He’s quite popular today, pinged every two minutes. Isa and Roxas share a mirror, trying to get the mechanics of their bow ties right. 
Terra is getting married. 
The thought. Married. Soon. Yes. Damn. He can’t cry right now.
Terra stands in front of a mirror and bends his elbows to see how the fabric moves. The mice are tiny, three of them in skirts. They’ve developed an efficient obstacle course of threads all down his entire body, a network so the mice on the floor can deliver them supplies—spools, sewing needles, thumbtacks, measuring tape—in a jiffy. 
Lea groans, squeezing his Gummiphone. “This twerp is going to turn me into a serial killer.” He yawns, possibly for the fortieth time.
“Not an ill-fitting job, all things considered,” Isa says from across the room.
“I do appreciate your sarcasm.”
“Who’s bothering you?” Terra asks, lifting his collar so the mouse on his left could thread through it with a sewing needle.
Lea snorts, slaps his knee and leans forward. “Did you not know your buddy is a monster?”
“Ven?”
“Oh, he’s a joy.” Lea holds his Gummiphone up as if he’s about to make a speech. “Come help me pick out Aqua’s flowers. Now. If you could.” He glances at Terra, then back at the phone. “He writes that in all-caps.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t mean to be so pushy.”
“The other day, he called me to model the bride’s dress because Miss Aqua couldn’t be bothered to come to the fitting herself.”
“Master Aqua was away on a mission,” Isa explains.
“Isa took photos of me in it—” Lea scrolls through his phone, but stops. “Oh, I can’t show you before...” He clicks his tongue. “It’s very nice. Very bridal.”
Terra is sure that’s true, but the image of Ven hanging his head so much on someone else’s wedding is worrisome. Last night, he fell asleep at dinner. “I think Ven is taking on too much stress.”
“Lea,” Roxas says, snorting a chuckle and giving up on his bow tie, “you should show him the texts.” 
“Gladly.” Lea stands to shove the Gummiphone into Terra’s face. Out of the history, a couple of messages stand out.
Ventus
I got 500 cake flavors come taste them with me
Ventus
Which cologne do you think terra should wear
COME SMELL 
i need a second opinion
Ventus
Do you have aqua’s flowers yet?
remember 
we want orange roses and bluestars
Ventus
Aqua isnt here im freaking out
Youre closest to her body type
HELP
After all that, Terra feels as though he’s being watched by several microscopic eyes. One of the mice squeaks with urgency, and he straightens one of his arms. “I don’t know what to say... Why doesn’t he talk to me directly?”
Lea purses his lips as though this is a secret not worth sharing. Roxas is the one to step forward, a knowing grimace plastered on his face.
“He told me that he doesn’t want to bother you with anything.”
That doesn’t sound entirely false but not true either.
“That’s ridiculous.” Terra tests the bend of the elbow to fiddle with his bow tie. It’s already done but something about it doesn’t sit right. “He could come to me for anything,” he says with a low voice, wondering if there’s something he’s missing. Terra has also been a mess. He’s getting married. Holy stars. 
Isa huffs out of frustration, turning away from the mirror, his bow tie undone. He studies Terra’s suit. “I don’t like it.”
His straightforwardness is well appreciated. Aqua would probably smirk at the sight of it and stare at his neck the entire ceremony. “I don’t either,” Terra says.
“Smart man.” Isa smirks, and tugs Terra’s bow tie to undo it. “Let’s change it.”
Lea snorts. “You might want to ask permission from he-who-shall-be-slapped.”
“It’s my wedding,” Terra says.
“So you think.”
He-who-may-be-slapped enters the tailor’s parlor through the front entrance, announced by the bell of the ring. He’s perfectly dressed in his ringbearer’s/best man’s/maid of honor’s suit, vest fitted, bow tie sublime, sleeves coiffed. He sees what Isa is doing. He gapes.
“Hey guys,” Ven asks with a frustratingly shaky voice. “What are we doing?”
“They are unbecoming,” Isa answers, wrapping a traditional tie around Terra’s neck.
“Oh.” 
Sometimes, speaking to Isa is like getting clocked in the stomach. By the looks of Lea’s expression, chewing on the edge of his Gummiphone, it’s well deserved.
“Okay,” Ven says, with a tight smile. He takes the tie from Isa’s hands. “Do they match?”
“A hello would be less rude,” Terra says. “Hi, Ven. Can we talk?”
Ven glances up. “Later. There’s lots to do.”
Lea inhales sharply. “Hey, Ven. Here’s an idea. Did you know you could tame cicadas to sing in harmony on command?”
Ven whips his head around. “You can?”
Isa brings a hand up to hide a smirk and Lea passes him a subtle wink.
“Picture it.” Lea opens his arms. “From nine until eleven at night, they gather in the bushes. They mutter, a light dusting of atmosphere on a peaceful summer night.”
Ven’s eyes grow wide with obsession. 
Roxas comes near. “You can also make them glow.”
“Like stars in the bushes,” Ven whispers to himself.
“Come on, guys,” Terra says, unimpressed. “Leave him alone. We’ve got better things to do.”
Ven snaps himself out of it, but not before pulling out a notepad and writing notes. He eyes Terra over, nudging him to open his arms and pinching the sides of the suit. Ven draws them in by the measure of a finger and pulls pins out of his pocket, like he’s been expecting to use them, and marks their places. “Jaq Jaq,” he calls, “where’s Suzy? We need to make sure these ties look right. Oh, and we need two extras—we have to ship some to Riku and Sora.”
Some mouse squeaks in reply.
“I can help her carry things.” Ven gives a flash of a smile and then hurries off.
Out of earshot, Lea gives Terra a look. “Anyone able to talk to mice is a crazy person in my book.”
Terra glares back and quotes, “‘You could tame cicadas to sing on command?’”
“He needs something to obsess over. How else am I going to get peace?”
“This is going to bite you in the ass,” Roxas says, wrapping his new tie over the neck and having a much easier time.
“Ventus may very well task you with hunting and gathering the cicadas,” Isa says, a tie already in place, immaculate. 
Lea groans and Terra feels it’s well deserved. 
Well deserved… the suit may be. The future wife, maybe not. The suit is a glove for every finger with no excess. It makes him a good-looking groom, a nice addition to the closet for any special occasion. The bride is beautiful, no matter what she wears. She is loyal, patient, strong, intelligent, loving, funny when she’s stern, too good for him, a divine gift he didn’t earn and he still can’t understand how she said yes.
“I hope you’re laughing at the face of my misery,” Lea says.
Terra knows that’s sarcasm. Weddings are headaches, emotions are terrifying and Terra needs Aqua like a sip of medicinal tea to calm down.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The others squeal when they walk into Le Grand Bistro. It’s sunset, the city lights already ignited and giving it the glow of evening fairies welcoming the moon. They’ve just discussed dresses—Xion requests a pantsuit instead, which looks stellar—and they can choose their own styles so long as they all wear the color of night. Simple, elegant. That’s the kind of effect Aqua prefers. Thank goodness they’re almost done. Aqua couldn’t handle more hands in her hair and she rejected the flower crown that would have come down on one side to compensate for the lack of length. 
She fiddles with the ring—a thin, intricate design weaved around a small, blue stone—as a waiter escorts them to the kitchen. On days when she doesn’t have missions, she wears it.
Aqua is getting married. Some part of her wonders about the surreality of it, like it’s a dream or a picture she created in her mind when she was a child, at the altar with a faceless person next to her. Sometimes, it feels like she is already married. Terra has always been with her. Every day in class. Every day strolling through the woods. Every day sparring, sharing meals, bickering and laughing. Her best friend, her confidant, her rock.
There is something about nearly dying that challenges perspective. When they both thought they’d never see each other again, it made them realize there’s more to it and there’s been more to it for years. The emotional intimacy that strengthened after the fact. The physicality of it, when he takes her to bed. They argue differently, they laugh the same. Terra has always been with her, so what is the difference between being with him and being married to him? A part of her is eager to find out. The other is already at peace, a kind of joy Aqua has always wanted.
Ven is in the kitchen, talking with Remy (responding to Remy, who is naturally unintelligible). Plates of cake pieces sprawl out on the table, eliciting oohs and aahs from the others, all patient like they’re waiting for Aqua’s permission to take a small bite.
Aqua reads through the description of flavors—strawberry, fudge, angel food cake with blueberries, red velvet, even coffee. “The one we requested isn’t here.”
“You mean…” Ven pulls out his notepad and looks through his notes. Remy climbs onto Ven’s head, squeaking and pointing to a bowl of flour and eggs, unmixed. “Dark chocolate and rum?”
“That would be correct.”
“A spicy cake? Are you insane?” At his shock and at Aqua’s denial, Kairi helps herself to a spoonful of vanilla. “This is a wedding, not a club!”
“My wedding, Ven.” Aqua isn’t annoyed, but amused. Ven has such strong opinions about for some reason. 
“Try this one.” He holds up a plate of a decorated piece that honestly looks delicious. “Triple chocolate, with the rarest berries found in the woods, matured at thirty-five degrees Celsius for a week.” 
“Burnt cake?” Kairi asks with a smirk.
“Not the cake, the berries.” 
“Oh,” Xion gasps, with need in her eyes. It takes a nod from Aqua to grab a fork and have at it. She approaches each piece with so much excitement— Aqua wonders if there are flavors here she’s never tried before in her short life. 
“What will the final cake look like?” Naminé asks, the only one not to dive forward. She’s so gentle, so serene. When they were trying out dresses, everyone was saying what a beautiful bride she’ll be one day if she chooses. 
“Perfect,” Ven says, like it’s the most obvious thing. “It has to be perfect so it will look beautiful. Painted like a night sky, with stars everywhere. You got that, Remy?”
Remy glares at Ven.
“I want,” Aqua starts, and when Ven frowns, she smirks. Sometimes, for the sake of maintaining control, she has to play dirty. “Rosewater and cardamom.” 
Ven sticks his tongue out in disgust.
“Terra needs something to enjoy,” Aqua insists. “These are all too sweet for him.”
“Terra is the bane of my existence.”
“By the way, I don’t know if I want King Mickey and Queen Minnie to officiate.”
“You are way more difficult to deal with.”
Aqua and Ven have a staring contest as the others talk about their favorite flavors. Ven, a glare, a challenge to outwit her. Aqua, a calm knowing that she’s going to win. Ven relents.
“Fine,” he stresses. “Remy, change of plans. We’ll need some damage control. Let’s add some”—he writes into his notepad—“fruit pastries, sweet cheese with chocolate—”
“Triple chocolate,” Kairi adds.
“Custard and kiwi,” Xion says.
“All good choices.” Ven writes them down.
“Sea salt ice cream?” Naminé says, lifting a shoulder. “Everyone else eats them, I hope to try some.”
“Ven.” Kairi slams a hand on the table. “You need to add marshmallows covered in hazelnut and chocolate.”
“We need all the chocolate,” Ven agrees. “Call it revenge on this nasty cake.”
Kairi cackles, but it’s nothing malicious. They’re young and excited about the wedding, their suggestions a way of helping. Aqua takes it all in stride. The small details don’t matter, only the intent, and letting friends have fun deciding makes the entire process easier. What’s bothering her is Ven. He’s exhausted from taking it all too seriously. Aqua assumes the best intentions, but she doesn’t get it.
“You know what would be really cute?” Xion says. “Little petit fours shaped in your symbols.”
Ven blinks. “What symbols?”
“Oh, the Keyblade Master symbols.” Naminé claps her hands. “That would be so lovely.”
“In different colors,” Xion says.
“Each a different flavor,” Naminé adds. “Maybe the same colors as your Wayfinders?”
“You two are geniuses.” Ven taps his notepad. “Remy, we gotta get to work.”
Remy stomps a paw and squeaks vigorously.
“No worries. You’ll get paid.” Though it seems that’s the last thing on Remy’s mind.
“Ven,” Aqua says softly, pulling him aside as the others brainstorm ideas. “I don’t think we can afford all this.”
“Sure you can,” he says too confidently, though she and Terra were the ones to save up their munny. “Don’t worry,” he stresses when she’s not convinced, giving her a squeeze on the arm. “You asked me to bookkeep your finances” 
“Reminder that I did not ask you to take full responsibility. Remy can’t do all of this alone, he’s going to need you.”
“I’ve got plenty of time, and we’ve got plenty of budget.”
Aqua does not know how that is possible. After the dresses, the refitting of Terra’s tux, the decorations… sure, since they’re using the ballroom in the Land of Departure, they saved on not having to rent out a venue, but the original plan was to have a small, intimate wedding in the woods, something private with just the three of them, minimal decorations necessary, all plucked from nature. 
All of this is out of their price range.
Ven goes back to the table, back to the stovetop and oven where he follows Remy’s instructions and mixes the flour in the bowl with some milk. He doesn’t assuage her at all, like he knows something she doesn’t.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Home should be a solace but not when it’s the wedding rehearsal. 
Ven has ushered in movers from different worlds to carry in artifacts, all decorations, all star-themed. Terra has yet to see the ballroom, but the amount of people rushing through the hallways makes him nervous. 
Ever since Terra called Riku in the dead of night (in a panic, needing someone to talk to, alone in the kitchen with a cracked mug of tea), blabbing about tripping on the way to the altar, or cutting the cake clean through the table, or stepping on linen and ripping the curtains, or dropping his plate of food, or looking like an idiot on the dance floor, or worse—forgetting his vows—he hasn’t lived a moment of peace. Sora won’t let him. 
Terra finds it hard to breathe. What if he chokes on his vows and accidentally offends everyone?
He stays far away from the workers—it’s for the best. No one needs a huge bull stampeding in a china shop, destroying everything.
Lea crosses the hallway on his sixth trip and enters one of two entrances to the ballroom, vases of flowers in his hands. Terra peeks. From the looks of it, Ven did a fantastic job. 
The ballroom, once gold, now looks like the set of night. The ceiling is covered in blue with twinkling lights. The table linens are also dark, with napkins and silverware sets a solid gold. Glass windows that take up one entire side to the ballroom are bare of curtains—the wedding is planned for after sunset so they’d be declaring their vows under the stars. Two navy blue carpets come in through both entrances of the ballroom, meeting in the middle and then straight to the altar at the far end. The point is for him and Aqua to enter together, like equals. With her in a bridal dress, she’ll look like a light in the darkness.
Through the doorway, Terra can see Riku and Sora, the latter making motions with his arms as if he’s flapping like a bird. Terra lets the door close so they don’t notice him. 
There are fears he’s never voiced.
What if she realizes she doesn’t want to get married to him after all? At the altar no less?
Oh stars, what if he makes a terrible husband? 
What if he neglects her?
What if, years down the road, she realizes after a slowly oncoming epiphany that she isn’t happy and regrets it?
Tonight is the party, tomorrow is the wedding, and Terra still has no vows. He pinches his nose hard enough to distract him from crying. He’s already cried five times in the arc of three hours.
Footsteps—light, brisque, confident, hers—approach him, and Terra embraces her in his arms, taking her in with a needy kiss. She smells like home, she lets him breathe again. 
“You look like you’re about to fall apart,” she says, stroking a thumb on his cheek.
“Not if you’re my glue.”
She snorts, smacking him on the bicep. “What did I say about the puns?”
“Shower you with them.”
He kisses her before she can roll her eyes—
—and gets interrupted the moment Ven peeks out of one door. 
“What’s with the hold-up?” he says.
Terra breaks from the kiss, casually noticing how Aqua is patting his shoulder, as if to warn him. “What’s with your attitude?”
Ven pouts like he’s about to choke and slaps the notepad to his forehead. “No one listens to me. I said baby blue and champagne on the napkins, all shaped to form the constellation of Juno… and they gave me yellow. I am gonna complain so much.”
“There are worse things?” Terra says and Aqua shakes his shoulder as another warning. 
Ven snaps his eyes open. “Get into position, we’re starting.”
Aqua stands behind one door and Terra goes to the other, waiting for the cue to enter. On the other side, Ven is speaking out loud, organizing people and where they should stand. Grooms and bridesmaids will enter the altar from behind and gather together, leaving the carpet only for the star couple (no pun intended). He interrupts himself, raising his voice about vases that match too much and Terra can imagine him pointing across the room.
“I have to tell you something,” Aqua loudly whispers from the other side of the hall. 
Terra runs to her and wraps an arm around her waist. Touching her is a panacea. Despite knowing there is still a possibility she’ll rethink this entire relationship, it seems unreal, like a nightmare.
“It’s about Ven,” she continues, keeping her voice low even though they’re the only ones in the hall.
“Lea threatened to slap him.”
She frowns.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Don’t you think it’s too expensive?”
“I don’t know. Ven doesn’t tell me how much anything costs.”
“It’s way more than we have saved up.”
Terra gapes. “Then how—?”
Aqua stammers, fiddling with her fingers. “I looked into his books.”
Terra melts into a breath-heavy laugh, careful to keep his voice out of it. “Reading people’s diaries? Aqua, I thought I knew you better.”
She blushes. “I didn’t mean to, but I was worried.” Now Terra is worried. Her expression is too serious. “Ven has been doing side-missions and hustles for months just to earn enough to hire the best chefs and tailors, to buy linens and all these flowers and carpets—” 
“He wouldn’t.”
“He did.”
“Why?” 
“I think it’s because he wants us to be happy.”
“We are.” Terra doesn’t appreciate how he doesn’t sound confident, scared he’s assuming too much on her behalf. “How could he just…”
“We were stuck in darkness for so long and he couldn’t help us.”
“But that’s not his fault.”
“He feels he is the weakest and wants to compensate.” Aqua grimaces and she blinks back tears. 
“I feel so guilty.”
“I feel worse.”
“Why?”
Aqua bites her lip. “I’m still attached to the idea of a small, intimate ceremony in the woods. Just the three of us. Does that make me a horrible person?”
“No. Our wedding has become a spectacle. Maybe pointing that out makes me terrible, too.”
She groans. “I found a book. I left it in your room. It’s very last minute, but there are some ancient rituals in there that I found so beautiful… the exchanging of rings is beautiful, too, but modern and there are some lost traditions from our Keyblade history that I’d love to do instead... if you could take a look?” 
The way she smiles, stars. Ancient, modern, he’d do anything for her. “Sure. I’ll read it tonight.”
Aqua winces. “He’ll be so angry with us.”
Terra squeezes her hand. “He wants us to be happy. Think about that.”
One of the doors burst open, and Lea sticks his head out. “Kindly stop being an ass and don’t keep your guests waiting anymore?”
They start: Terra at one entrance, Aqua on the other, entering the ballroom at the same time, where guests will watch them approach one another, like the shadow of the moon to a star. They meet at the point where their lanes merge into one. 
Terra offers his arm—
“Nonono,” Ven warns, running up to them. “You can’t meet her like this. You must bow at a forty-degree angle.” Ven scans the room frantically. “Here, I have a ruler.”
After that hiccup, Aqua finally takes Terra’s arm, walking down the single aisle, where guests can ogle at them. Their groomsmen and bridesmaids take pictures with their Gummiphones for their arrival at a wall of flowers. 
Sora has his hands behind his head and snickers when they reach the end. “I made sure the carpet is ironed out so she doesn’t fall with you.”
“I’m going to kick you in the shins,” Terra says.
He snorts and wipes his nose. “I’ll kick you back.”
At the altar, Ven is too excited to stop rambling. “We have to make sure that you arrive here, at this spot, at exactly nine-thirty so we can finish the vows at ten because...” He frames the windows with his hands. “We’ve got a perfect spot for star sighting so we need to be on time.”
“Do you mean, right after the wedding ceremony?” Aqua asks. 
“Before the reception, yup. We’re walking out to the balcony, we’ll watch the meteor shower where a new world will be born, then we’ll come back in for supper and dancing.” When he notices their stupefied faces, he continues, “I spent three weeks finding the right angulations so you can witness a unique astronomical event, and we’ve got a miracle of a spot right here so we can’t be late.”
“It’s a wonderful thought, Ven,” Aqua says, her voice shaky.
“Okay, now you get into position and face each other.” He points and they follow. “Next, Mickey and Minnie will talk some stuff, you know, all official, and then you say your vows.”
Terra freezes up. “Our vows.”
“Yeah. That’s what I said. You ready?”
Terra hesitates and Aqua speaks for him. “We’re keeping those a secret until tomorrow.”
Ven pauses, then shrugs. “Fair enough.”
Aqua doesn’t let Terra have another thought, leaning forward to kiss him in front of everyone (aahs and awws elicited), and ending the rehearsal.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“How do you get your skin so clear?” Kairi asks, though the warm glow of the fire makes for spectacular lighting. 
They’re camping in the woods near the waterfall, equipped with warm blankets and pillows, a bowl of cookies, and toasted marshmallows on sticks; Aqua’s vision of a bachelorette party. No gifts necessary.
“Mountain spring water does wonders for you,” Aqua says.
“I’ve read in a magazine,” Xion says, crawling out of her sleeping bag, “that some people like to put mud on their faces to get clean skin.”
“Why?” Naminé asks, chewing on a marshmallow.
“Something about the properties. Lots of good minerals.” She walks over to the creek, digging her hands into the dirt and smashing it into her face against the shocks and cries of the other girls. “If mountain water is good for you, then that must mean this mud is magical.” 
“Is that true?” Kairi says, though she’s asking no one. She hurries over and joins in on the mud-mashing, running fingers over Xion’s face in places she’s missed.
With globs of mud in their hands, they bring over the excess to the camp. 
Xion offers it to Aqua. “For beautiful skin on your special day?”
“It’s our job to pamper,” Kairi says with her hands out so that Naminé can scoop up the mud on her own. 
Aqua tries not to chuckle too loudly. It’s adorable. “Okay,” she says, and Xion gets to work, massaging it into her skin. It smells unpleasant, earthy and mukky. She closes her eyes and tries to relax regardless.
“I think we’re supposed to keep it on our faces for at least a half hour,” Xion says, rubbing more on Aqua’s nose. 
“This will make us prettier?” Naminé asks.
“Cleaner,” Kairi says. 
Naminé blinks, already covered in the mud and hesitating to put on more. “But we look dirty,” she says quietly.
“Can I request something, Miss Aqua?” Xion says, patting her fingers onto Aqua’s forehead.
“Certainly.”
“Can you tell us the story of how Terra proposed?”
Kairi jumps and squeals, and Naminé claps her hands, both of them chattering please, please, we’re dying to know.
“We’re around a fire,” Kairi says, as if that’s a convincing argument. “We’re supposed to tell stories.” 
“I feel bad for asking,” Naminé says. “You’re very private, and I don’t want to intrude…”
Aqua reads her face. “But you’re curious.”
Naminé pouts. Xion’s eyes go wide, and Kairi nods excitedly. Everyone is guilty as charged.
“It’s a simple story, I guess,” Aqua says, crossing her legs and watching the fire. It’s not often that she talks so openly about the details of her relationship. The two of them together is something people know, but never knowing where they come from and why, except for Ven—even then, there’s so much he never pries to. Watching their reactions is a little overwhelming. She rubs the stone on her ring. “Terra made the engagement ring with his own hands, but he took months to propose.”
“I remember that,” Xion says, sitting on her chair and smiling. “It annoyed Lea so much that he offered to set you both up just to get it over with.”
Aqua laughs. “I’m grateful we had it to ourselves.”
“Was it romantic?” Kairi asks.
“Not at all. I… knew he was up to something. I know him.” She lifts a shoulder. “He was burning breakfast too often, he couldn’t look me directly in the eye, and he left on his own to do more missions than usual. I took that as though he had done something wrong. The last time he was that clumsy and avoidant, it was because he accidentally cast Firaga in the library and was trying to hide it. Or when he broke the oven. Or when he offered to do my laundry but didn’t know how to treat my fabric and ruined my clothes.”
“He sounds like a clumsy oaf,” Kairi says.
That makes Aqua smile. She loves that oaf. “He is. The general rule of thumb is that a clumsy, avoidant Terra is usually hiding something.”
“So how did the proposal happen?” Naminé asks.
“I cornered him—”
Kairi snorts.
“—and he blurted it out.”
They giggle, Kairi acting out how that may have looked and Naminé holding her hands over her heart in a show of genuine affection. 
Aqua smiles to herself, a finger to her lips. It might be her favorite memory, her standing her ground and demanding to know what was going on. 
Terra, looking all around the terrace except for her face, guilty, guilty, guilty, pulling a box out of his pocket and stammering for a cohesive sentence. Well, I don’t know what to say, he had said, like a child getting grounded. I-I’m sorry. I’m dumb, I’m a big lump of a human being. He paused, his cheeks rounding up like he was about to vomit. Will…will you marry me, anyway?
It felt like racing in a train and pulling all the stops, crashing. He got red in the face, tears welling in his eyes and she realized he took her silence as rejection. Aqua had to hold his forearms, and all she could utter was a soft, I genuinely thought you burned down a building.
Terra’s eyes went wide. Do you mean you’re not mad?
Of course not. Why would I be?
So… He licked his lips, reaching for her but not touching her, forgetting that he had the box with the ring inside. What do you say? I mean, you don’t have to give me an answer straight away. I mean, I just thought you would… you know… because… He sighed. Yeah.
Aqua finally laughed, and kissed him on the cheek. Of course I will marry you, you beautiful dork.
The laughter quiets around the fire. They’re waiting for Aqua to continue her story.
“Then he drops the ring.”
They howl, melting into a blissful exchange of cheers and gossip, a vibrant hearth brighter than the one keeping them warm. 
“I had hoped to propose first, actually,” Aqua continues. She shrugs. “The end.”
“That was beautiful,” Naminé says, wiping her eyes.
“If Sora hears about this, he’ll never leave Terra alone,” Kairi says, grinning something mischievous. 
“I don’t know what love is supposed to look like,” Xion says thoughtfully, gazing at the sky. “But it sounds sweet.”
In Aqua’s opinion, the proposal was perfect, him scattered on the ground frantically searching for the ring, her on her knees helping him. How he slipped it on her finger, how they kissed for an hour in the dirt, unaware that they were dusty, unaware that anyone else existed in the world. 
Aqua nods, mostly to herself. It aches to be away from Terra tonight but it burns her insides to see him tomorrow and finally do this. Aqua wants to sleep and get this night over with but she doesn’t want to sleep so she could see the sunrise, knowing he’d be up early watching the same thing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Bachelor parties aren’t fun.
Sora is whooping about a cannonball, the water splashing when he makes contact. Ven and Roxas race to the lake, testing who will be the first to dive, the first to swim across and come back. Considering the expanse of the surface area, they’ll be gone for a while and the barbecue will get cold, but maybe it’s for the best. It’s not the right time to talk to Ven right now, not when all of them have a moment of fun (except for Terra, the only one here thinking about tomorrow). Lea and Isa prefer to relax, sipping drinks on their chairs by the lanterns erected onto the sand, speaking quietly about memories, about chores, about home and what ifs. 
Terra sits by himself, the thin booklet Aqua gave him on his lap, tucked under layers of parchment. It’s titled The Way, no author. She was right: old Keyblade rituals are interesting, almost possessive, their focus on the literal binding of hearts. They’re from the Age of Fairytales, and Terra realizes as he reads through it that ancient Keyblade wielders were for some reason obsessed with the loss of memory and the prevention of it. The rituals sound painful, too—maybe Aqua has developed a mild taste of macabre from her time in the Realm of Darkness. 
All Terra has left to do are his vows. His stupid, dorky-sounding vows. He should have accepted the simple, “I do.” He shouldn’t have waited until the last minute.
He’s tried dramatic.
You are my other half, my heart, my breath of life, my sky, my angel, can we keep our souls together? 
He’s tried poetic.
The mountain will thirst if not for the water— 
He’s tried being honest.
I don’t know why you love me, but I’ll do my best to make it up to you.
All dumb.
Terra groans into his hands, eyes wide in existential blunder. 
“Keep doing that,” Riku says, setting a chair next to him and sitting down, “and you won’t be able to blink again.”
“I’m not finished.”
“But if you don’t sleep, then you’re more likely to have accidents.”
Terra gapes and almost whacks Riku on the side of the head from the sight of his constricted smirk. “You’re so mean. I called you one time.”
“In a huge panic talking about causing mass destruction of a wedding the worlds have never seen.” Riku shrugs nonchalantly. That’s his state of being—too cool for anything, too sensitive for everything. It’s refreshing. “It was the funniest phone conversation I’ve ever had.”
“I’ll never call you again.”
“Not in the middle of the night, please no.” Riku bites a forkful of steak. “Is it cliché to tell you to speak from the heart?”
“This entire conversation is cliché, but here I am, living it out.” Terra stares at his messy pages, where he pressed the pen so hard that it left ink blots.
“You could do the very committal thing and tell her you love her fifty times.”
“All the guests would leave by the time I reach twenty-five.”
“More like fifteen.”
“Ten.”
“Disaster.”
Terra grimaces, not entirely comforted, but not entirely anxious anymore, either. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“It is a big deal, I’ll give you that,” Riku says, more serious. “I don’t have any advice.”
“None of it makes sense. Be honest, but not too honest. Be loving, but don’t make it cheesy. Express yourself, but hold back on certain things. Do make it personal. Don’t expose personal details. How am I supposed to know how to do it right?” 
It would be easier if there are no witnesses. If it’s just Ven, if Aqua is the only person he’s talking to, if he could simply say, You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I know I’ve fucked up. For as long as I live, I’ll never do that again. I will never take your forgiveness for granted.
And if she doesn’t want to be with him anymore, there’d be nothing he could say to make her stay.
“I think if Aqua was the kind of person who expected you to do it right,” Riku says, looking out to the lake where Ven and Roxas are swimming back to their shore, “you wouldn’t be marrying her.”
Terra bends the pages, exposing the cover of the thin, leather bound booklet. There are no vows he could use in there, except for the officiator declaring their hearts intertwined. “Thank you,” he mumbles.
“Sorry I can’t be of more help.” 
Riku pats him on the shoulder and leaves him alone to take a walk, Sora begging him to enter the water. Terra flips to a page where he’s repeated I love you, I love you all over, each in different calligraphy, like doodling, like losing his mind and procrastinating the night away, hoping that any moment, inspiration would drop bricks on him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It’s time.
The strangest part of the day is waiting it out in her bedroom until it’s her turn to show herself. Over the years, her bedroom has been a reflection of her personality. The cleanliness, the artifacts from her home world long ago, the size of the bed, the furniture—they all stayed the same. What’s come and gone were the paint colors, the bedsheets, the art on the wall, the smaller vanity mirror. Her bedroom is her old life, and she sits in front of the mirror in her bride’s dress, about to start a new one. For now, they both collide, as though her childhood doesn’t know her.
The cape dress is simple, plain white with the neck scooped across the collarbone. The sleeves slit at the shoulders, draping over to the floor with the rest of the train. Aqua couldn’t have asked for something better. She completes the look with the ring, a jeweled hair pin on one side, and an armored choker. Makeup is minimal. 
Aqua is surprisingly calm and the sun is going down. 
Her Gummiphone buzzes with a text message.
Terra
Let’s do it
Aqua sighs, not texting back immediately.
Aqua
I don’t want to break Ven’s heart
Terra
I’ll talk to him
We can both get what we want
I already stole some flowers from the wall
Don’t think he notices
She chuckles, moving a hair strand behind her ear. She hasn’t noticed that her stomach has been a knot, from excitement, from nerves, from anticipation. The sun takes so long to set. Terra is the warmth of a tight blanket.
Aqua
Will this label me as a runaway bride?
Terra takes a long time to answer, giving her the impression that he must have been distracted and forgot to reply. 
It buzzes.
Terra
The shame
Aqua
What will they think when they find out the groom seduced her to it
Terra
The scandal 
when they hear how she met him secretly at the creek 
an hour before the ceremony
It sounds like an action plan. Aqua picks up her bouquet of orange roses and bluestars from her vanity table, heading out the door.
Aqua
I want Ven there
Terra
Definitely
I love you
Aqua
I love you too
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Terra finds Ven in the dining room, taking inventory of an indulgement of sweets and a feast of meats, fritters, and rice. The wedding cake is as tall as his body, a dark blue with smacks of gold glitter in the shapes of galaxies, large stars framing each layer, and topped with two halos. Ven is mostly dressed in his vest and tie, the suit missing. By comparison, Terra is overdressed, a groom ready for his encore.
Ven sighs when he sneaks a cookie the shape of the Keyblade Master symbol into his mouth, as though Terra’s presence reminds him of disappointment. 
“I couldn’t tame the cicadas,” he says morosely, like he’s apologizing, and for a moment Terra second-guesses what he’s about to do. Ven eyes the white rope curled around Terra’s shoulder. “What’s that for?”
“This may either cheer you up or piss you off,” Terra says, dropping The Way on the counter.
“I don’t like how you said that.” As Ven flips through pages, he frowns, chewing on the side of his lip. “Are you... not happy with the wedding preparations?”
Terra inhales, caught off guard. “Of course I am. Happy, I mean. It’s… huge. It’s a giant ordeal.”
“And you don’t like that,” Ven says quietly, stroking one of the pages with his thumb.
“I think there are things we’ve always wanted to have privately.” Terra sits on a stool, but Ven won’t look him in the eye. “And we want you to be there. We can do it now. We’ll be back in time for our guests.”
The booklet shakes in his hands. “I messed up.”
“From my point of view, I’ll be eating very well tonight. There’s nothing to compensate for.”
Ven closes the book. “I just wanted to do a good job.”
“If you allow Lea to slap you, he’ll forgive you.” Terra smiles, but Ven doesn’t join him. “We’re still doing your grand ceremony—that, we could never pull off on our own. But we also want something tiny and ours, and we won’t do this without you.” Terra takes Ven’s hand and squeezes it, before glancing at the cake. “I hope it’s delicious.”
“It’s disgusting so you’ll definitely like it.”
“See, I can always count on you.” Terra stands up. “Now come on. You wouldn’t want us to be late for the bride.”
Terra takes him to the creek, not far from where Aqua hosted her bachelorette camp, where the sound of rushing water is gentle and the creek splits into two directions, one that would drip off the side of a cliff and one that would join a massive river downstream. The trees huddle close in the clearing, a soft shadow from the fierceness of the setting sun, like a pocket of protective magic in the middle of the forest. 
Ven gasps. “You stole my flowers.”
“Please, you didn’t even notice.” Terra had built an easy wooden arbor before the crack of dawn that morning, an arch weaved with orange and blue flowers, spotted every so often with green lilies. He showered right after so no one would suspect.
“Let’s take it over there.” Ven points to a short boulder against a tree nearby, a good photo op. They pluck the arbor up from both sides and plant it in front of the boulder. Ven takes stock of the sight. “Not bad.”
“Thanks!”
“I take credit for the choice of flowers.” Ven rolls the rope into a tight circle, layering it on the boulder with each loop in equal circumference. He splays the book open and studies. “It’s kinda creepy,” he says though he gets no response and he doesn’t ask for one.
Terra shoves his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo and waits. Aqua isn’t here yet. The vest constricts his breathing, the thicket suddenly feels humid, and Terra wipes his cheek, realizing that his heart is beating fast. Time sped up to this moment and dropped him here without warning. Now it’s slowing down out of pure, unjustifiable spite to torture him in the final hour. 
“You okay, dude?” Ven asks.
Terra lifts his face to the sky to keep the tears in his eyes. “If I cry now, I think I’ll cry for the rest of the night.”
Ven snorts. “No one would be surprised, trust me.”
But it’s not working. He’s two seconds from sobbing. “I don’t know. I…” He scoffs. “I can’t believe it’s happening. I’m expecting her to never show up or brush me off last minute when she realizes what we’re doing—”
“No.” Ven approaches Terra like he’s about to punch him in the stomach to make a point. “Don’t think like that, she’d never do that.” 
Ven has good faith and better timing. Aqua approaches the other side of the clearing, the fabric of her dress gracefully making waves with every step, the foliage fluttering light and shadow on her figure. She holds her bouquet in one hand and a framed photograph tucked under the other.
It shocks Terra.
He can’t stop the flow of tears. He covers his shivering lips and the drip of his nose, his face twisting from the sight of her—brilliant, like she’s made of stars, a gift walking the earth.
“Terra, are you okay?” Aqua asks, rushing to him now, the train of her dress bouncing behind her. 
In the flash of an instinct, Terra runs to meet her, tripping over a branch and landing right into her arms. 
“You’re—” Terra sucks air in, his heart shoving itself up his esophagus. “Y-you’re s-so beautiful.”
Aqua uses her pinky to wipe his tears. “So are you.”
“Let me help you.” He takes the frame—a portrait of the Master, bordered with a white ribbon—and walks her to the arbor. Ven takes the portrait and places it on the boulder, their little family tied together, fractured in glued pieces, now and always. Before they start, Terra asks Aqua to pose under the arbor so he can take a picture of the trees and the flowers surrounding her. Beautiful.
“How do we do this?” Terra asks when he finds his voice again, still trembling. Aqua stands to the side to take her place. She’s beautiful.
Ven takes the book in his hands. The description of this ritual covers at most two pages. “Well, it’s archaic. It’s from the Age of Fairytales but it sounds like we will intertwine your hearts—but in an intense way, like we’re sewing them together.”
Aqua holds her bouquet to her chest. “Shall we start?”
Terra chuckles too hard, gasping for breath. “Simple as that.”
They wait for Ven’s cue, who also has no idea how to do anything. Ven clears his throat, shrugs his shoulders, and reads:
“We witness today the soldering of two hearts. To intertwine like the roots of a tree, the severance painful, the nourishment plentiful. A physical bond, a magical one, the merging of two sprites under the guidance of one truth. Two hearts, but one.” Terra watches the way Aqua watches him. There’s no one else in the world, Ven’s voice disconnected, like it floats on air. “Now it says to summon your Keyblades. Dig the tips into the ground, and offer your hilts to each other.”
Ends of the Earth is massive, taller than Ven. Stormfall looks delicate but it’s menacing, sharp, direct. They offer their hilts, the shafts crossed over each other, Stormfall light and airy in his hand, Ends of the Earth weighty and thick in hers. 
Terra finds it interesting that they’re using the hilt to connect each other’s hearts—the Keyblade should never be used against a person’s heart in traditional Mastery, because it’s such a dangerous weapon and it’s so violating. The blunt hilt, on the other hand, the physical manifestation of their hearts, is like exposure, an offer of vulnerability. 
Aqua’s feels like it’s thrumming, singing. She’s happy.
Ven steps forward with the rope and ties it over the hilts in loops. “This is just an image, the ties that bind, two Keyblades, but one. To intertwine a heart is to forge a chain, a friend, a companion, a memory. If missing then a void, a dream, a wish until reunion.” He steps back into position. “Before we go on, I think this would be a nice place to say your vows. Terra, you first.”
Terra stammers, looking into her eyes. “I-I couldn’t write one. I’m sorry.” 
“It’s okay,” Ven whispers, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I wrote some just in case.”
Terra doesn’t take it. He licks his lips. “It wouldn’t have been graceful. None of it—all of my thoughts—pale in comparison to you, Aqua.” He steadies himself with labored breathing, the squeeze on her Keyblade like a hold on her waist. “You’re so, so beautiful, and I’ve spent my days believing I don’t deserve you, because… because I couldn’t make things right like I should have.” 
Aqua quivers, gently touching his arm with her free hand and motioning for him to breathe. 
He continues, “I’m sorry. I wish the Master was here. I wish I was smart enough to prevent it from happening.” He inhales, choking up from the mention of Eraqus. “I never thought you would marry me of all people, so… I promise... I will be there every step of the way. I promise you, if you’re scared at night, I’ll be there to protect you. If you’re hurting in another world, I’ll come find you. If you’re confused, I’ll hold you close and help you make sense of it. I’ll brew you tea to help you sleep, I’ll step in the line of fire even if you wish to do the same for me, I’ll walk to the ends of the earth to make sure you are safe and healthy. I promise I’ll be with you.
“And I’ll mess up. I know me. I’ll fix it. If you want to clobber me, I’ll be patient. I’ll learn. I’ll do better. Every day you save me from myself. This is the least I can do. I’ve loved you since I was a kid. I’ll love you every day.”
Silence falls on all of them, Terra sniffing just to get some fresh air, Ven wiping his eyes, Aqua blinking too much. 
“Now you, Aqua,” Ven says. 
Despite being teared up, Aqua holds it together. She’s so good at that.
“Terra, I stand with you because I do want to be here. I do want to be by your side. I do want to laugh at your bad jokes.” She relieves a giggle. “I love you. I have for as long as I can remember, even if I didn’t know the words for it.” She studies his face. “I’m sure the Master is here with us, and he couldn’t be prouder of you. I’m proud of you.” Suddenly, she switches her tone, as if to lecture. “And if you even fathom taking a hit for me, remember that I’m faster than you. I’ll protect you first.” Then she softens. “I promise to be your shelter when the storm falls on us. I promise to sit on your bedside when you’re sick, to lift you up when you’re down about yourself, because you are sometimes. 
“You are my home, no matter how far your heart is from me. If you need a star to light your way back, I’ll give it to you.” She smiles widely, like she’s about to laugh. “If something between us breaks, I’ll mend it with you. I can’t imagine my life any other way.”
Their words are now spoken. Aqua suppresses a laugh and grins like a child. Terra holds his breath, just in case he screams from every emotion that he can’t name.  
“Well,” Ven says, rolling his sleeve up so he could wipe his nose on his forearm. “I guess it’s time. This bond is an oath you will remember each other until you close your eyes for the last time, for the tragedy to forget is to be alone forever. Do you accept this?”
“I do,” Terra says.
Aqua hums. “Yes, I do.”
Ven smiles. “You know what to do.”
With his free hand, Terra presses two fingers to his chest, over his heart, where he builds a golden glow. Twenty years living with her, ten years in darkness thinking about her, this vow is impossible to break—even if they can’t do this any longer, Terra could never forget her. Never. In his hand is now a piece of himself, a nugget of his heart, a memory of her in his bed that he never wants to lose.
He takes those fingers to her chest, two thick golden threads drawn out from his heart. She winces at the touch, quick to dissolve. Stormfall shifts in his hand, growing longer, its hilt thicker and darker, wrapping around like a weaved shield. A subtle change, a little piece of him.
Aqua does the same, fingers to her chest first to create the threads, bringing them to his chest. It does hurt, like a needle digging into his skin, sharp for the entire length until it’s suddenly gone. 
He feels full, as though his insides are creating space for something extra. Warm, frightening, whole, exciting. Her piece is a memory he can’t read but he doesn’t need to. Ends of the Earth opens way for an icy blade to cut through the middle as the hilt fans out like wings. A piece of her to take with him where he goes.
“Alright,” Ven chirps, snapping the booklet closed. “The book ends with the quote, Two hearts, only one, but I think this means I can call you husband and wife in secret. So kiss.”
Their Keyblades dissipate when they hold each other, tender but with appetite, unaware of their surroundings for several selfish moments. With sewn threads, it’s as though he breathes through her. Terra presses her onto him, feeling how her heart now beats in sync with his.
“I love you,” she whispers. They are married. 
He’ll never tire of hearing it. Stars, they are married. “I love you, too.”
Terra hears Ven sniff before a handkerchief is shoved into his face. “You need your face dry and clean before everyone sees you,” Ven says. 
The sunset now is deep, a fiery orange. Terra doesn’t want to let go.
“I’ll hold you again tonight,” Aqua says, patting his chest. “I want to see the meteor shower Ven promised.”
“It’ll be a good one,” Ven assures.
Terra kisses her. “Then we have to make a run for it.” He picks Ven up like a log, jogging through the thicket of the forest with Aqua close behind him, the Master in her arms. When they approach the castle, in the twilight, they hear chatter coming from the halls, as though ghosts are partying outside. 
Terra feels at peace despite that he now has to perform, balancing on a tightrope where he doesn’t care if he falls. He turns around and holds her neck to kiss her again, feeling her laughter in his mouth. “One more?” he asks when they break. 
Ven, still tucked in Terra’s arm, groans. “I never asked for a front seat to the kissing show. Is this my punishment?”
Aqua kisses him one more time, whispering to him I love you for what will be a string of I love you’s in the night to come. Friends will cheer, Terra will trip on the way to the altar, Sora will cry because Terra will cry, Xion will eat too much cake and get sick, Isa will laugh because he is drunk, Kairi will be the star of the dance, Aqua will be the star in his eyes. 
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taz-writes · 6 years
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thanks for your answer, im always interested in mbti of other people's ocs! although ive been wondering, did you check the functions for the types, or only the descriptions? because my ocs (and me) not ever fitting into mbti boxes was also my problem until i discovered functions which kinda give a brand new light to the whole thing; for example, ENFJ and ENFP are actually two very different types (the whole function set changes completely depending on the last letter)(1/2)
so if you are ever interested and/or bored you can check it out!! also, Aelia and Sayara are love interests?? i didn’t know, i love it!! and do tell about the Hogwarts houses if you feel like it, you made me curious!!(2/2)
(referencing this post)
I’ve been kinda lowkey about Sayara/Aelia being a future Thing, because they don’t become canon until book 4 out of 4, but it does happen eventually! I’ve thought about letting them be gay earlier, but they both need a lot of character development before a relationship would actually work. Aelia and Sayara getting together in book 4 is a cute romance with potential to last! Aelia and Sayara getting together in book 1 is a messy breakup waiting to happen. So they can wait. And now for something entirely different... 
I did read the descriptions! I actually took the tests in character (I had nothing else to do yesterday oops), and then picked through the results and descriptions of how each letter is assigned to judge how accurate they were. A lot of my characters were assigned with a 51%/49% split or something nearly that close. I think Aelia’s quiz result was, like, 55/45 towards F, but the resulting description just didn’t feel accurate to the way I write her. The other one was a little closer but still off. 
Aelia’s a weird case because I’m still feeling out how her characterization works. She’s a pretty hypocritical judgy person, but at the same time she’s flexible and fairly chill. I think I confused her types on this because I’ve been referencing multiple websites and they all disagree on what the J and P actually mean in a personality. P is probably closer, but ENFP doesn’t fit quite right on Aelia. She doesn’t want to be sorted. 
There are also a lot of characters in Feilan who appear extroverted because they’re princesses who are trained from birth to be comfortable around other people, but that’s not where their actual instincts lie. They’ve just learned the skills necessary to fake it. Violet’s the best example of that! She’s very very good at leading social dynamics and talking to people, she values those skills and puts effort into them, but if left to her own devices she will lurk in the corner avoiding everyone. She hates being around other people, especially people who want something from her, which is most of them. But because she values duty and responsibility, she makes herself a social entity anyway, because that’s literally her job. Hence why she came out with an E when I took the test for her. Vi also tends towards being an objective thinker, but she balances that really well with her emotions, and when she does find something to care about she makes it a huge priority. I don’t know which side of the T/F she should fall on. When I took the test in character she came up with T, but I’m not convinced that’s wholly accurate. 
Plus, character development makes things complicated, and there are a few traits that I just don’t know how to quantify if that makes sense? If I pin my characters’ behaviors down too tightly then it’s hard to see how they grow, and I’ll inevitably sound like a hypocrite because they’re dynamic individuals who don’t always act the same way. MBTI results are like a lot of other personality sorting systems, the overarching categories they produce can be useful but there has to be bleedover in the middle. I don’t buy that all of humanity can be classified into just 16 categories. 
You also might find it amusing that every single individual whom I tested in-character came up with -T as their suffix on 16personalities. All of them. That might have some sway on the situation, I don’t really know, the website isn’t too clear about how that works!
I’m putting the Hogwarts house tirade under a cut because I wouldn’t know concise writing if it kicked me out of workshop class. 
The reason I say I can write essays about Hogwarts houses is because there are only four of them, so it should be easy to find one big category for each character to fit in, right? Wrong. They’re so... weird. 
I’ve always looked at Sorting as a measurement for equal parts traits and values--it’s not just about what you are, but also what you want to be, and what you consider important. Hence why Neville is a Gryffindor, and Crabbe and Goyle are in Slytherin. It also explains why entire families often end up in the same House, despite having varied personalities, because parents will (at least try to) raise their kids with the same core values and beliefs. 
Gryffindor beliefs are courage, chivalry, and nerve. Slytherins like ambition, cunning, and... racism? I guess?? I generally choose to ignore that part because it’s stupid and pointless but whatever. Ravenclaw values wisdom, wit, and desire to learn. Hufflepuff values loyalty and hard work, but will also accept anyone who doesn’t fit the above three because inclusion is a big theme for them. I wanted to clarify how I understand the categories because people really like to argue about Hufflepuff, for whatever reason. 
So Sayara’s a Slytherin. This is probably the easiest one to choose. She’s ambitious, she’s clever, she isn’t very sneaky but she thinks she is and she wants to be. She feels that power exists to be used, and she wants to be the one using it. Although she demonstrates other houses’ traits too, namely Ravenclaw desire to learn and Gryffindor selflessness, the Slytherin traits are strongest by far. Aelia’s a Gryffindor because she’s a reckless dumbass, no further elucidation necessary. 
But people (looking at you, old rp friends) love to argue with me about the Ravenhart twins. Apparently it’s “obvious” that Violet is a Slytherin, and I am a fool for not recognizing this in my own original character. I think that’s stupid. Violet is clearly and obviously a true Hufflepuff, and here is why: 
Violet is cunning, yes. And she’s mean. I get that being mean is a Slytherin trait to a lot of people. But Vi’s defining characteristic, in my eyes, is her devotion bordering on obsession to her family. Everything she does, throughout this entire series, is either in defense of or in revenge for her family. She spirals downward in book 1 because of her drive to get revenge for her mother and keep her sisters safe from anything threatening to hurt them. Sayara only gains her vague loyalty in book 2 by befriending and defending Aelia, and her trust by convincing Violet that they share that sense of responsibility. 
Violet Ravenhart is a natural follower. She takes on a leadership role because she has the skills for it and she feels she has to, but deep down, written in her instincts, she’s a team player and can’t reach full potential when she’s in charge. Her true powers and skills shine in tandem with other people! This never shows in book 1 because she deliberately isolates herself and won’t let other people tell her what to do, but later in the series, she teams up with other characters and it brings her to new heights. She and Sayara are designed to work well together when they can ignore their own egos. 
And Vi is loyal as FUCK. It takes a lot of effort to earn her allegiance, because she doesn’t listen to emotion when meeting new people, and she’s highly analytical and distrustful of anyone she doesn’t know. She automatically assumes everyone’s out to get her. But once you prove to her that you’re a friend, she will follow you to the ends of the earth, she will die for you if it proves necessary, she’s all or nothing. She can’t even convince herself to try breaking out of prison, but if someone she loves needs her help? she will TEAR THIS BUILDING DOWN. Like, I’d read Violet as a Gryffindor before I could see her in Slytherin, but people automatically assume she belongs to the Mean House because she’s kind of a jerk to people she doesn’t trust. She’s such a deeply and sincerely caring person! She just has depression and PTSD and doesn’t know how to express it in any kind of healthy way. 
Lavender’s also a tricky one. I feel like she’s a Hatstall, between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and even I don’t know 100% where she falls. She has all the Ravenclaw traits. She’s very smart, and in private she’s quite snarky, she has a love of knowledge, but that love of knowledge is always for other people’s sake. She’s dedicated to becoming a healer in canon because she has the aptitude and she wants to help people. I’m inclined to slant Hufflepuff because her motivations are like Violet’s, but Ravenclaw would be better for her as a person. She’d grow more there because being in a different House means she can’t rely on Violet to supplement her personality. But the reason she’s ~controversial~ is because a lot of my friends who’ve guessed her House haven’t even thought of Ravenclaw as a possibility. 
Dusk is a Ravenclaw, which shouldn’t take much explaining given her personality. She’s wicked smart and always wants to know more and more and more. She borderlines Slytherin with her ambitions and cleverness, but she lands on the Ravenclaw side for me because she’s just so freaking smart. If given the choice, she’d rather be a research professor than a politician. She’s a politician in canon because the former isn’t an option. 
Kyrina’s a Gryffindor because she’s loud and annoying and totally fearless, and she thinks the idea of chivalry is cool even though she genuinely doesn’t know what it means. 
But yeah, that’s the Hogwarts Essay(tm). It gets complicated because there are so few options that everyone overlaps, and weighing the values vs traits vs which are more important is more effort than it should be. 
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