#anyone else like watching angels spar in their free time

[literally-hell-ultrakill]

hi people im bob totally not hell itself now let me join in on your very human conversations

Spoiler! most things i do are ooc, meaning this is probably not the way hell would actually act

[mykneeshurt]

Hi 👋

So ive had this thought after reading your works, task 141 + könig and anyone else rlly; reaction to y/n just casually taking ppl down like black widow. IE: thighs around head flipping them, casually breaking free while being interrogated, etc.

And y/n is so "whatever" or "you never asked" kinda situation where they don't see the big deal,maybe it leads to them sparring and y/n taking them down (them being on the shorter/average size (5'5) ).

I feel like it'd be absolutely hilarious for some reason

Bahaha I love this, they wouldn’t know what to do 😭😭😭 girl boss for sure

Price 🥃

The first time the Captain saw you break free from your bonds he was beyond gobsmacked. He stared at you wide eyed and chuckled to himself.

You were tied to a chair, mid interrogation, hands behind your back. Your ankles were taped to the legs of the chair. Price was waiting outside to rescue you but as he found you didn’t need rescuing.

The blood from your arm trickled into the tape which held your wrists. The tape became less tacky allowing yourself to wriggle free. Throwing your hands to the floor you whipped your legs behind you, colliding the chair with your captors back. Shattering it, and him.

Pulling off the tape you fixed your hair and flounced out of the room, ‘oh hi Captain!’ You smiled sweetly, ‘shall we?’ You gestured to the way out.

Soap 🧼

Soap first saw your skills during a hostage drill on base. They’d handcuffed you to a pipe on the ceiling, and told you to await your rescue.

Helpless little woman, waiting to be rescued by the tough men. Like fuck you thought. Gaz was assigned as your captor for the exercise, he stood with his back to you. Facing the door, preparing for your rescuers.

Sighing you moaned slightly, Gaz came over to make sure you were ok. Offering your most angelic smile you whipped your legs up to his neck. Your strong thighs applying just enough pressure to make him pass out.

Pulling the pipe off the ceiling you jumped down, undid your cuffs and sat on a chair. Waiting for them. When Soap burst through the door he was gobsmacked. Mouth open. ‘Took your time’ you laughed looking at your watch before walking out the door.

He knew from that moment he HAD to ask you on a date.

Ghost 💀

Ghost took you on the sparring mat, only for a bit of fun. You were 5’3 and he was 6’4. A huge contrast. But you used it to your advantage, scurrying around him and nipping at his ankles like a terrier.

He was getting fed up. Impatient. How did you keep getting one up on him? Eventually to got the Lieutenant on his ass. In front of 141. His eyes widened in the mask as he puffed thick air from his lungs. ‘I didn’t know you could do that!?’

Holding out a hand to him you helped him up. ‘You never asked’ you shrugged, throwing a sickly smile at him. He was blushing under the mask.

Gaz 🇬🇧

Gaz has never forgotten the memory of seeing you wrap your self around a guys neck, and break it. In half. Effortlessly.

‘Ummm what the fuck was that?’ He was beyond shocked. He’d never seen you move like that before. You re-adjusted your hair and waved him off like it was nothing.

‘No. Seriously. How did you know how to do that?’ He scratched the back of his head. Bewildered. ‘I’m in the SAS Gaz, I need to be good at something. Remember when I choked you out during the drill?’ You winked.

He pulled at his collar ‘yeah don’t remind me.’

König 👑

The big man himself. You were all having a friendly competition of who could jump the highest. Of course our 6’10 mountain won. But that was before you.

Whistling to grab the boys attention you sprinted and damn near scaled König, jumping off his shoulder planting the sticker mikes above his.

His blue eyes were wide, perplexed. ‘You little spider monkey!’ He laughed. He scratched his head, he hardly even felt you climb his back.

You climbed up his back again and planted a cheeky peck on his cheek. ‘I like climbing mountains’ you said poking your tongue out.

[omiscurls]

hi!! could i request a diluc x fem!reader angst where they were childhood friends, and when reader gets a fiancé, diluc tries to confess his feelings but reader rejects him, gets married and moves from mondstat, and every now and then diluc sends reader letters (apologizing, asking how readers day was, hoping they come back). thanks!

unrequited

plot: reader rejects the character

contains: diluc

warnings: angsty and like one curse word, that’s all

diluc was a cute kid.

as the heir to one of the most wealthy and powerful families in mondstadt, he was polite not only to his senior, but also incredibly nice to his friends, as well. different that most boys his age, he didn’t go around yelling dumb, inappropriate jokes, and didn’t take pride in making girls feel bad.

he was always sweet to those doing worse than him in class, be it theory or sparring, and acted like an absolute saint to his adopted brother.

naturally, how could one not adore a kid like that? how could the mondstadt girls not line up to see him each time, how could the boys not want to play with him? how could anyone resist, when he had that charm to him that seemed to draw people near almost against their free will?

finally, how could you not take pride in the fact that out of all those over-the-top girls who fought over each other to talk to him, out of all those boys that never failed to bug him in each little scrap of his free time, he chose to try and get close to you?

you didn’t understand it at first, but it seemed like he genuinely wanted to know you, his eyes looking as though they were studying your expression at all times, a warm smile welcoming you each time you passed him by.

his words were careful and his sentences always strained, as if he struggled to talk, but a sense of honesty and genuine sympathy always seeped through his words, confusing your little childish brain, but also forming a warm and fuzzy feeling inside your chest. 

over the years, not only did you finally answer to his advances, but also befriend the kid. his rare smiles were reserved for your eyes only, and his mind opened up before you each and every time you talked, no restrain and limitations between you two. 

he’d sit behind you in class, sometimes passing you notes with an answer to questions you didn’t know, or a funny note about the teacher, or just simply asking if you want to hang out after school. 

you’d go to windrise and sit under the tree, talking for hours about the most useless of things, about what you thought the clouds looked like, but also your futures, your dreams and hopes. 

he’d explain math to you before every exam in the dark rooms of dawn winery, hair pulled up and tea made for the both of you, looking at your struggling with unmistakable patience and affection, but what could you know? you were kids, barely even teenagers. why would you think anything of the way he said he’ll “always be there for you” after some simple math tutoring? how could you analyze his kind stare that you never saw him wear for other people? 

and so you didn’t. 

he’d sit with you on the counter of his kitchen, carefully caressing your back as you wet his shirt with tears, quietly telling you that “they didn’t deserve you anyway” after your first ever heartbreak. to hell with the fact that his own heart was breaking a millimetre more with every word he spoke, if what he said calmed you in any way, he’d talk all night, going on and on about how you deserve the world, and nothing less. 

you held his hand at his fathers memorial service, letting him tighten his grip on your fingers harder every time, you wiped away the tears, you listen to his sobs and pleas when the two of you were alone. you offered solace to him over the next painful months, you justified every word he hurt kaeya with, only to make him feel better about himself. 

to him, you were like an angel sent from above. you restored the faith he had lost in the world, you stuck by his side and lighted up his days one after the other, how could he not adore you?

how could he not fall in love? 

and trust when i say, he did really try to avoid it. he tried pushing his thoughts away, he tried focusing on something else, tried avoiding you, tried everything. no matter what he did, his mind circled back to your smile, and unconsciously he smiled as well, even if the next second he’d look in the mirror and wipe it off his face as if it was a crime to smile. 

diluc was a cute kid, and he grew up to be a polite gentleman, whom you called a friend. and as any polite gentleman, he wouldn’t dare do anything to loose the honor you had given him, so he stayed silent. stayed silent since his in-class notes, through talks about the future, through your breakups, through all the times you had been there for him. in no universe would he ever mention how the weight was lifted off his shoulders every time you as much as looked his way, how all the clouds went away at the sound of your laugh, and how he was ready to do anything in the world to keep you happy. 

somewhere in his mind, perhaps he thought you had somehow known all along, and would reward his efforts to not complicate your life with his emotions with loving him back, but how could you know? how, if he kept it a secret that well? 

in the end, his own plan backfired on him, and he realized he had lost when you ran through his door, tears in your eyes, but a smile on your face, showing off a ring, shining in sunlight, resting on your finger.

if he ever thought “they didn’t deserve you” hurt him, “i’m so happy for you!” stabbed his soul a thousand times more painfully. 

to normal people of mondstadt, there was no change in behavior from the gloomy and serious owner of angel’s share, but a few noticed how heavy his presence was, how desperately he blinked back the sheen layer of tears, glistening in the candle light while he was serving drinks, and you were off somewhere in the back, laughing with your lover by your side. 

he had lost his chance, and now there was no way in which he could get you back. no way at all. all his life, he had built up a hope inside that one of these days, he’ll get a happy ever after, and lived with that thought through all the bad moments that came along the way, and now these years of carefully building this scenario came crushing down with the realization. 

in a desperate search of any relief, he came to the conclusion that the only thing to be even remotely at peace with himself was to... simply just tell you. 

so there he was, right outside your door, the watch on his wrist striking ten in the evening, stars shining brightly on your doorstep, as you appeared before him, merely a nightgown shielding you from the cold air of the night, a soft smile adoring your lips from the moment you realized it was him. 

“diluc? what’re you doing here this late?” you said, grabbing a coat from behind the door and closing it behind you. a foolish hope sprung inside him when you joined him outside, as he stared at you with a little grin, working up the courage to speak up. 

“there’s something i wish to tell you about” he merely whispered, gesturing you to come with him.

the walk to windrise was longer than the ones you remembered from your childhood days, and the sharp air nibbled on your skin mercilessly, to the point your legs hurt a bit when you reached the tree.

diluc turned your way and spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, but was thirty minutes.

“i hoped not to burden you with the secret i’ll share with you now, and i’m sorry for whatever bad outcome it might cause, but… truth is, i can’t keep it to myself anymore, and if i want to have some peace for myself, i have to trouble you with it.” he said quietly, settling worry in your gut.

“you can tell me anything” you assured calmly “your secrets are always safe with me”

he took one last look into your caring eyes, feeling a little better just having you smile at him, and took a breath before spilling.

“i might’ve been in love with you for the last ten years” he said calmly “and i know this is hardly the time, i really do, but i just-“

“what?”

you looked at him in surprise, blood audibly pumping through your veins as you tried to comprehend what he just said.

“i do understand that you’re engaged, but-“

“do you? do you, really?” you said bitterly, making his heart sink in regret. “because to me it seems like i waited for you all those years, i hoped, and i prayed, and i wished, and after i finally, finally gave up, you decide to mess with my emotions right when i thought i had them figured out?”

diluc was stunned. so you felt the same way about him, once? he could’ve had all he hoped for? he didn’t even comprehend the rest of your sentence fully, focusing on how you just admitted to having feelings for him somewhen in the past.

“no, i’m not trying to mess with you, I’m-“

“but you are! honestly, diluc, i knew you were somewhat insensitive, but this is blatantly cruel! what- i don’t- why didn’t you say this to me earlier?”

“i wish i did, but to me it seemed like you were always chasing someone else, and i didn’t want to-“

“bother me? is that it? you didn’t want to bother me so now you decided to try and mess with my relationship? god, i- i need to be alone right now. sorry.”

and with that you were out of your usual childhood spot, leaving him alone under the tree that shared both of your secrets and plans for so long.

a longing stare pierced through your back as you ran back to mondstadt, not going home right away, but trying to find a spot where nobody would find you.

“fuck” he muttered. he was familiar with the feeling of loss, but the fact that it was nobody’s fault but his own made it a hundred times worse.

diluc was a cute child, and grew up to be a polite gentleman. so he was there to apologize to you on countless occasions, ready to beg forgiveness for his recklessness and lack of thought, but you were never there to hear his pleas.

and so it went on, a huge wedding covered the streets of mondstadt in white while he stood in the sidelines, his friends said goodbye to you as he watched from a safe distance. you left, and so did every remaining proof of his embarrassment.

nevertheless, he sent countless letters, no address on the envelope, save for the name of the city, hoping that one of them would eventually reach you. sorrow and tears almost spilled from the words written in a tidy cursive, but he never had any certainty about wether they reached you or not.

and while he hoped you forgave him,

he knew you didn’t.

[mitts2002]

Aight’ Bet

Hi this is my first time posting on here so I hope whoever is reading this enjoys!! This is a noritoshi kamo x reader where the nori and (Y/N) need a little push from their wonderful Gojo sensei to finally confess~

"Dont you think (Y/N) and noritoshi would make the cutest couple!?" Gojo screamed over the phone to Utahime who sighed in response.

"I can't help but disagree Gojo, Noritoshi doesn't seem ready for a relationship plus is the only reason you rang me really to discuss our students non existent love lives?" Utahime retorted knowing that the couple would in fact be adorable yet refusing to accept that Gojo could actually be right about something.

"No Utahime! I bet if them two were able to spend a few hours together the tension would build up so high that one of them would burst and BAM a couple would be born" the blue eyed male replied, the volume of his voice increasing with each word trying to convince her that they were the highschool sweethearts the jujustu world needed.

“How could you even say that!? I get that its cute whenever they glance at each other and shy away with cute little blushing cheeks but i bet it would take more than a few hours for a whole relationship to-” “OH you bet“ Gojo interrupted an obvious smirk on his face knowing Utahime wouldn’t back down from his advances.

“you know what i meant idiot i wasn’t actually trying to make a bet with you especially after what happened last time” the black haired woman scoffed after hearing a chuckle through the phone.

“Aight’ bet! tomorrow ill bring my second years to kyoto for some training and then lets see if something happens between our precious students“ Gojo proposed excitedly as if he were a child in a sweet shop.

“you know what fine! and im only agreeing cause i know nothings gonna happen tomorrow between them i mean noritoshi is too stiff and (Y/N) always backs out last minute” utahime exclaimed not wanting to prove Gojo right. “GREAT! if i win then you will have to be my slave for 2 whole days and if you win ill be your-” “wait i never agreed to that!” “see ya tomorrow then!” Gojo had quickly rushed his farewells before hanging up relieved he avoided Utahime’s lecture.

"Alright class!" Gojo sensei yelled excitingly as he burst through the doors. This overgrown man child always had something new, it could never be a regular class where his students actually learn then were let out for a break. No Gojo Satorou had to be the most extra male on this earth and for the first time ever it worked in his second year student (Y/N)'s favour.

"What it is now?" Maki groaned with an annoyed expression on her face. No one could blame her though after all the blindfolded man put his beloved students through. "Don't be so sour maki! Be like me a sweet little mochi~ Oh and before I forget I wanted to let you all know that we will meeting with our lovely sister school for some training. Isnt that great!?" Gojo sensei had announced clapping his hands and smiling brightly.

'I wonder if training is all this is' (Y/N) thought to herself realising how sus this situation was before speaking out "wait Gojo sensei weren't we meant to learn a super secret technique today? You said that you were gonna show it us yesterday and that nothing could stop you" (Y/N) questioned as Inumaki gave a little "shake" for support.

"Well my dear (Y/N) something VERY important has come up and we must go to kyoto immediately. You have no right to deny and we will be leaving in 30 minutes so go grab whatever you kids need" Gojo sensei had practically sung before skipping out the door. What an odd man everyone collectively thought before getting up to grab whatever they needed.

30 minutes has passed and in that time panda had gathered his and maki's weapons while you and toge stocked up on cough medicine and basic medical equipment. The journey was short since Gojo had practically teleported you all there and all that was left was to approach the students.

A few figures from the distance were slowly coming into view and (Y/N) could vaguely make out that only utahime, miwa, mai, momo and noritoshi had attended this last minute joint training.

Despite the others reaching and gathering around your small group of second years giving their greetings the only thing your eyes could focus on was noritoshi’s thick black hair as it gently swayed in the breeze. Honestly it was as if the man was in a L'Oréal advert or something.

"(Y/N) stop staring we all know you both have this weird thing going on but we're here to train not flirt dumbass" Maki had whispered into your ear but little did she know that you were in fact here to flirt and not train due to a certain bet between two teachers.

“alright kids listen up! me and the wonderful Utahime sensei have set up this last minute training as its always good to train with new people and techniques. Everyone will be working in pairs“ Gojo announced before Utahime continued.

“The teams we decided on today will be Maki and Miwa, Momo and Imumaki, Panda and Mai then (Y/N) and Noritoshi. Eveyones free to do whatever they want in their sparring matches just don’t severely injure each other, me and Gojo will be watching over the matches and determine the winners“ Utahime informed all the students before they scurried off to in different spaced out areas.

"So Noritoshi how are you? Its been a while since we've last seen eachother" (Y/N) said trying not to let her nervousness show.

"I'm alright just studying and training to be honest. Although I recently started to practice cursive and can even write my own name now" he responded with pride and a small nice.

You laughed causing Noritoshi to cock his head to the side in confusion. "Is there something wrong with cursive?" His deep voice asked with clear offense.

"No no it's just that's so freaking cute and you look so happy about it too" (Y/N) teased with more laughter and ruffled his hair

"Oi don't touch my hair do you know how long it takes to do these wrap bang things?"

"Well how would I know I've never done them nori"

"Well one day I could teach you if you'd like" Noritoshi offered looking to the side trying to hide his red cheeks.

"Aww I'd love that I'm awful at doing hair to be honest so learning some new styles would be great but first we gotta get this dumb sparring match over and done with" (Y/N) moaned as she got into position.

_______________________________

An hour had flew by and the students were taking a break from their matches happily chatting away while the teachers spoke in private about their progress. “come on look at the way they look at eachother OH (Y/N) touched his shoulder SHES FLIRTIN-” “GOJO SHUT THE FUCK UP YOUR SO DAMN LOUD” “sorry but loooook they in love” Gojo cried out with fake tears in his cerulean eyes

“Alright lets just observe look theyre going to the vending machine to get some drinks like FRIENDS DO“ Utahime emphasised on the friends worried she might lose and become this awful mans slave for 2 days.

_______________________________

“Nori im gonna go get a drink from the vending machine do you want one?” “Actually ill just come with you if you dont mind” “OH sure thats fine does anyone else want anything!?” (Y/N) yelled to the whole group receiving a choir of get me this please or get me that and the single tuna mayo.

The walk to the vending machine was quiet but a comfortable silence had fallen upon the pair. It was always like this when you were around Noritoshi Kamo. Peaceful. She didnt feel the need to go the extra mile to entertain him or ensure he wasn’t bored in your presence as your playful banter and sarcastic remarks towards one another was enough for the both of you. 

“(Y/N) is it me or have Gojo and Utahime sensei been staring at us more than the others?“ Noritoshi questioned unable to shake off the feeling of being watched. “Um i’m not too sure i havent been really paying attention to anything other than yo-“ Embarrasment washed over (Y/N) as the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

“Is that so?“ Nori smirked slightly as you swore you could drop dead right here in this moment. “No i just meant that” “Meant what?“ Noritoshi interrupted leaning closer as you fumbled through your words

“OH LOOK the vending machine is right there better get those drinks“ You quickly said and scrambled away before Noritoshi could get any closer.

“SEE Nori was too intimidating and (Y/N) ran off despite clearly wanting him! its never gonna happen today“ Utahime whispered to Gojo benhind the bushes as he shook his head. “Trust me i have faith in my wonderful (Y/N) I AINT RAISED NO BITCH“ He exclaimed in response while Utahime facepalmed.

The two young adults had collected all the drinks they needed and were ready to walk back to the group. ‘come on (Y/N) you’ve liked this man forever now and everyone knows he must like you back ITS NOW OR NEVER HOE’ (Y/N) screamed words of encouragement to herself before grabbing Noritoshi’s sleeve.

“Is everything alright (Y/N)?” “I have something ive been meaning to tell you Nori, I um like you a lot and i’d like to take you out if you dont mind” (Y/N) had practically yelled at the poor boy because of her stupid nerves and adrenaline.

The silence was broken by an angelic laughter coming from none other than Noritoshi Kamo. “Well i would’ve liked to be the one to take you out but i guess sometimes its alright for traditions and stereotypes to be broken by the younger generation” Nori responded as he walked closer to (Y/N) wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a sweet kiss. The kiss was messy and clearly new to the both but filled with much love and passion that was finally being expressed by the pair.

As their lips eventually pulled away never wanting this to end, heavy breaths filled the air and cheeks flushed but all that was interrupted by a white haired male clapping in the background screaming “YES I WIN” while the other teacher crouched to the ground tears in her eyes.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Funny Little Ups and Downs

Summary: Loki is having a bad day. The love of his life is being sent away to marry some ridiculous Vanir prince, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Then her little sister shows up to give him a pep talk.

Word Count: 3,824

Pairing: Loki x Sigyn

A/N: Sound the alarms! Alert the media! Cozy wrote something happy! I actually wrote the majority of this over three months ago, then got stuck on the ending and forgot all about it until a few days ago. It’s inspired by “I Love Melvin,” a silly little musical from 1953 starring Debbie Reynolds and Donald O’Connor that employs my favorite trope of all time: the main character’s little sibling bonding with the romantic interest. It’s fun, it’s cute, and I just had to write it. Consider it an apology for all the angst I’ve been throwing your way XD

Warnings: None

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

Spring in Asgard was truly something to behold. The last dredges of winter melted into memory, leaving behind a crispness in the air and a radiance in the land as vibrant life bloomed across the planet. It was a kind of brilliance that one could hardly resist, and so it was no surprise that the palace gardens were alive with activity— novice warriors sparring in the field, strolling couples engaged in lively conversation, giggling children chasing each other through the labyrinth of brick and shrubbery.

It seemed the very universe was mocking him.

Loki held his head in his hands, huddled in a despondent heap at the edge of the garden bench. It was truly amazing how quickly the sweet spring air turned foul. The day had started with such promise, and now …

“Hi your Highness!” Loki jumped when the little girl plopped down next to him without a warning, crumbs spilling into her braids as she munched on a cookie.

He sighed. “Oh, hello Milla.” He couldn’t say he particularly cared for company at the moment, but he couldn’t find the energy to shoo her off.

Milla studied him, chewing intently. “Are you crying?” she asked.

“Of course not!” Loki bristled. Was he now so pathetic that he was garnering the pity of a child? He huffed in indignation.

She patted his arm as if in consolation. “It’s okay to cry, Prince Loki. I cry all the time.”

Norns.

He swallowed the temptation to shove her away and abandon the bench, electing instead to change the subject. “Did Sigyn send you?”

It wouldn’t have been the first time she delegated her little sister to the position of messenger. Perhaps Milla was here with some kind of news, that the whole thing was a misunderstanding and Sigyn wasn’t getting married after all. But deep down, Loki knew that was nothing but wishful thinking. If that were the case, Sigyn would have come herself.

“No,” Milla said, dashing what little hope he had against the brick walkway. “I saw you leaving from my window. You looked sad.” She paused, cocking her head to the side. “Was Sigyn mean to you?”

It was such a childish question that Loki laughed, although there was no humor in the sound. Sigyn didn’t have a mean bone in her body. It was something of which he was in perpetual awe. It didn’t matter how badly her day had gone, how grievously she had been wronged—she always had a kind word or a sweet gesture and an eagerness to help. There was a grace about her, a grace that Loki had never seen from anyone else in court.

The way she had broke the news to him, pushing him into the hallway outside her apartment before he even had the chance to knock … it was cruel, but it wasn’t a cruelty she had chosen. He understood that at least.

Loki heaved another sigh. “It wasn’t her fault.”

For a moment, Milla was quiet. He turned away from her. It seemed he really was that pathetic.

“Sigyn got all upset after you left,” she finally said. “She went running upstairs and hid in her room. Now Daddy’s mad because Prince Sverrir is coming over and she’s not ready.” Sverrir. Loki dug his fingernails into his palms. Milla didn’t seem to notice his tension.

“Do you know Prince Sverrir?” she asked.

Loki grit his teeth. “I’ve met him.” It was astonishing how his opinion of the Vanir Crown Prince had changed from aloof indifference to outright hatred within a matter of words. Loki had known Sverrir since they were both children, when Vanaheim’s royal family had come to Asgard for a few weeks to celebrate the millennial anniversary of the end of the Aesir-Vanir War. He had found him to be tiresome as a boy, a trait that did not improve upon adulthood. Loki had avoided him when he could.

Sverrir had only become relevant to him within the last few years, when after one royal visit he began to express an interest in Sigyn Yngvarrdóttir. At this point, Sigyn and Loki had been seeing each other in secret for quite some time, and while a public courtship was still out of the question, Loki had no intention of allowing the foreign prince to pursue what he already called his own.

The court was appalled when it discovered that Sverrir had been hiring harlots and bringing them into his chambers—his guest chambers, the very rooms in which the Asgardian royal family had so kindly allowed him to stay! His insistence that he had never even interacted with the ladies of the night, let alone allowed one on to palace grounds, fell upon deaf ears and Sverrir was forced to return home to avoid further scandal. Loki remembered watching him cross the Bifrost, with his unnatural posture and his idiotic attempt at regality, certain that they’d seen the last of him.

But now here he was again, back with a few years distance and an ailing father, and suddenly every woman in Asgard was ready to fall at his feet. Which would’ve been fine, except for the fact that he decided upon the only woman who didn’t want him in return.

Loki groaned, rubbing his temples. Besides him, Milla prattled on.

“He’s very dull, isn’t he?” she was saying, brushing the cookie crumbs off the front of her dress. “The last time he came over he just sat in the parlor and talked about how much Sigyn would like Vanaheim. I don’t think she was all that interested. And he kept calling me Mina!” She scowled at the ground, as if Sverrir was there, sitting at her feet, before turning back to Loki. “I like you better. You’re nice to me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”

“Yeah!” she grinned, tapping his shoulder enthusiastically. “You know my name, at least. And you gave me my good-luck charm!”

She pulled the charm out from under her top, fastened to her neck by thin strip of leather. It was nothing special, just a simple wooden carving of a cat’s head that he had whittled himself during his time serving as diplomat in Alfheim. He didn’t have near the talent for woodworking of the Elven carvers, but he was patient in his practice. By the end of the trip, he had spent hours upon hours working on the carving of a wolf’s head, Sigyn’s favorite animal, to give to her upon his return. Milla’s cat had been something of an afterthought. Still, he hadn’t been able to hide his smile at the way she squealed in delight when he presented it to her, and Sigyn had seemed more touched by the fact that he thought of her sister than at her own gift.

“Has it worked for you?” he asked.

“I think so,” Milla said, running her finger across the cat’s ear. “Good things happen when I wear it.”

Loki laughed bitterly. He could use a bit of that now. “Have good things happened today?”

She didn’t look up. “I’m still waiting to find out.”

A silence fell over the two of them, heavy and stiff. He wondered what Sigyn was doing, if she was still hiding in her room as her sister claimed. She had been waiting for him that morning, ready to push him out into the hall with shaking hands the moment he arrived at her doorstep. He knew immediately that she had been crying—if her swollen eyes weren’t enough of a giveaway, then the little hiccupping gasps that peppered her words certainly were.

“You can’t be here right now,” she had hissed. “If Father sees you, he’ll lose his mind!”

“What happened?”

“Sverrir made an offer for my hand. My father—Loki, he accepted.”

It had taken a moment for those words to sink in. When they had, he had demanded to speak with her father.

“Loki—”

“He can’t do this! He can’t sell you off like cattle—”

Only he could, and they both knew it.

“Prince Loki?” He turned away from his thoughts and back to Milla. She was looking up at him with wide eyes, her voice suddenly very small. “Is Sigyn going to marry Sverrir?”

Loki found he couldn’t answer. There was a threatening lump in the back of his throat, making him unwilling to trust his voice. Sigyn … she was always supposed to marry him. He had been sure of it from the moment he met her, back when they were taking their lessons together. He had pretended to trip when walking by her desk and spilled his potion all over the floor just to have an excuse to talk to her. Thor had rolled his eyes when he heard of it (“could you not just speak to her like a normal person?”), but Sigyn had laughed and offered to help him clean it up, just like the angel she was. And when class ended, he offered to walk her back to her apartment.

Sigyn had smiled, that shy little smile she seemed to reserve for only him. “I’d be honored, my prince.”

Loki was smitten.

And now he was heartbroken.

“You know she doesn’t want to marry him, right?” Milla asked, tugging at his sleeve. “She doesn’t even like him.”

Loki inhaled. “Marriage isn’t just about who you like.” Sigyn had explained this to him just now in the hallway. Her family may have been prestigious in her great-grandfather’s heyday, but a series of poor investments and bad choices had set them on a steady decline. Her marriage to Sverrir would secure their position permanently. Her father would condemn her to a life of loneliness to maintain their status. And Sigyn would accept it, because she was far too good a person to refuse. “You have to think about your future, and your family, and Sverrir is a prince—”

“But you’re a prince too!”

“I don’t have a throne.” Loki sighed. He had never been jealous of Thor’s position as Crown Prince, not really—kingship came with hundreds of little hinderances and headaches that Loki was perfectly content to live without. But if he could stand before Sigyn’s father, not as Odin’s forgotten son but as Asgard’s future ruler … well, he wouldn’t be having to stomach discussion about some Vanir prince, that was for sure.

Milla yanked on his sleeve even harder. “But Sigyn loves you.”                        

Loki’s eyes widened. “She told you that?”

“No.” She said. “But I know she does. She reads your poems every night before she goes to bed.”

He flushed crimson. “Does she?” Oh, those poems. He had never considered himself to be much of a poet, but there was a soft sense of familiarity in words that he had never found anywhere else. And Sigyn … how could one not write about Sigyn?

He never had the courage to read them to her in person, silly, romantic things that they were. Instead he kept to leaving them hidden in spots where only she would find them—wrapped up in her napkin at dinner, buried in her bag at the healing ward, slipped into her dress pocket as they danced. She never said anything about them to him, but he lived for the way she’d squeeze his hand after he passed one to her.

Milla nodded, grinning. “She has them all in a little book, and she keeps it under her pillow.” Loki smiled too at the image, just for a moment, but then reality came crashing back down. She could hold on to as many poems as he could write—it still wouldn’t change anything. He buried his face in his hands once more.

He felt another tug at his sleeve, and he turned to find himself face-to-face with a creased brow. “You love her too, don’t you?” Milla asked. “That’s why you’re so upset.”

Loki huffed. “What I want doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does! It has too!” she insisted, shaking his arm. “You can make it matter.”

“Make it matter?” Suddenly, looking at her there, with her braids and her “good luck” charms and her childish hope was too much to bear. “What would you have me do?” he snapped. “Kidnap your sister?”

Milla flinched. “No … But—”

“There isn’t any ‘but.’ Your father will never allow her to settle for me when there’s a superior option. My father will never care enough to intervene on my behalf.” Norns knew he had tried. But Odin had nothing to gain from a marriage between Loki and Sigyn, and if Odin had nothing to gain, he saw no reason to act. “It’s useless to pretend otherwise. Now are you just going to sit here and bother me all day or do you have somewhere else to be?”

She gulped, abandoning her place besides him on the bench. “I’m sorry, your Highness. I’ll go.” Loki watched her slink off back towards the palace, head down like a whipped pup. Somehow, he felt even worse.

…

Dinner was miserable.

Loki picked at his food out of a sense of courtesy, with no real appetite to be found. How could he eat, when four seats to his right Sverrir was regaling his audience with descriptions of his perfect bride-to-be? The prince hadn’t yet mentioned Sigyn by name, but he didn’t have to. Loki could see the way his gaze lingered on her table as he described her “perfect form.”

It made him sick.

He had still barely touched his meal by the time many of the merrymakers had moved to the dance floor. Sverrir had gone, too—Loki watched him practically slither across the room to Sigyn’s side to ask her for a dance, watched Sigyn’s nearly imperceptible nod in assent. Now, they commanded the whole of the floor, gliding through the steps as flawlessly as a couple could, Sverrir grinning ear to ear and Sigyn the epitome of quiet repose.

Loki wished he could return to his rooms. He didn’t want to sit there, watching his heart spin and twirl in the hands of another man. But he couldn’t seem to rip his gaze away from her. Her sea-blue skirt matched Sverrir’s cape as it twisted about her, giving her the appearance of some sort of oceanic goddess. He wanted to hate the color, but of course it was beautiful on her. Everything was beautiful on her.

“Prince Loki!”

He was startled out of his despondent silence by the child shrieking his name. Loki barely had the chance to turn around before Milla was upon him, grabbing at his arm and trying to pull him to his feet.

He frowned. “What are you doing up here?”

“Come on!” She yanked at his cape. “You have to dance with Sigyn.”

Wary of making a scene, and too flustered to push her away, Loki stood. “Milla, I—”

“You have to,” she insisted, giving him a push towards the dance floor. “Go! Dance with her!”

He stumbled forward, but the little girl kept corralling him down the podium stairs, towards Sigyn and her aggravating prince.

“Milla!” he hissed. “Can’t you see she’s already dancing with someone?”

“Who cares?” she hissed back, shoving him again. “Dance with her!”

And so Loki made his way down to the dance floor, cheeks burning, holding himself with as much dignity as one could after a literal child herded them like a sheep away from their meal. Luckily, few in the the ballroom seemed to be paying him any mind.

One of the positives of being the forgotten son, he supposed.

Sverrir and Sigyn were in the middle of the floor, still wrapped up in the music. At least, Sverrir was. Sigyn was holding herself as if someone had strapped a wooden board down her back. He couldn’t remember a time where he had seen her so tense. The sight made Loki stiffen.

With a sudden burst of confidence, he tapped on the Vanir prince’s shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said, not bothering to hide the tightness in his voice. “Would you mind if I cut in?”

Sverrir started. “Oh. Uh—” he glanced back at Sigyn. “Do you mind, darling?”

She shook her head, features still perfectly neutral. Only then did Loki notice that, while she was wearing blue, the ribbons weaved through her braids were emerald green.

“Oh!” Sverrir seemed surprised, but quickly shook it off. “Well, then, of course not!” He stepped aside, making a grand gesture towards Sigyn as Loki took his place in her arms with a rigid nod.

For a moment, they only stared at each other, slowly swaying to the notes of the waltz in silence. Sigyn looked away first, turning to watch her feet on floor as if she were a girl in pigtails still learning to dance.

Loki swallowed the desert on his tongue. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Well enough, I suppose,” she murmured. When she looked up again, her eyes were glossy, her features twisted in an attempt to hold back the tears. “Loki—I’m sorry.”

There was a lump in the back of his throat. He wished he could hold her to his chest, cup her cheek and promise her that everything was fine. Instead, he only shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I just …” She inhaled. “I wish things were different.”

Don’t we both?

“Is he kind to you at least?” he asked. He would at least be able to rest easier knowing that Sigyn was well cared for, and as irritating as Sverrir was, Loki had never seen anything to suggest that he was cruel. Although … he almost wished Sverrir was a beast of a man—horrible, vicious, barbarous— just so he could have another reason to despise him.

Sigyn shrugged. “He talks a lot.”

“Oh? About what?”

“Absolutely nothing!” she cried. “I’ve never heard of a man who could go on so long without a single thing to say. It makes my head ache.” Sigyn sighed. “But Father finds him interesting.”

Loki scoffed. “Your father would be fascinated by grass growing.”

She laughed. “Probably.”

They danced in silence for a while longer. He liked the silence—the soft, soothing movement was almost enough to make him forget why this night was different from every other he had spent dancing with her. But soon enough, the song came to an end, and he made ready to bid her farewell.

A familiar voice cleared his throat, rasping across the hall. The hum of conversation stopped as everyone turned to face the royal podium, where Prince Sverrir stood, smiling over the masses.

“Ladies and gentleman, if I may have your attention!” he called. “I would like to make an announcement.”

“Here we go,” whispered Sigyn. She reached out to grasp Loki’s hand.

When the crowd thronged around the podium had appeared to reach a size to his liking, Sverrir continued.

“As many of you know,” he said. “My father’s health has been failing for the past several months, and he has voiced that it is his greatest wish to see me married before he passes. Therefore, I am overjoyed to announce my engagement to one of your very own Asgardian ladies—” He stretched his hand out towards Sigyn, grinning widely as the rest of the nobles whipped around to follow his gaze. “The lovely Lady Sigyn Yngvarrdóttir!”

The ballroom erupted into applause. Sigyn sighed, but quickly masked it with a gracious smile, letting go of Loki’s hand in order to make her way to the podium.

To her fiancé.

Loki didn’t even think. When he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to his side, he was acting off pure instinct.

“That’s impossible!” he cried to the crowd, to Sverrir. “Completely impossible, your Highness. She can’t marry you.”

The applause fizzled out as quickly as it begun. Confused whispers began skating through the onlookers.

“Loki!” Sigyn hissed. “What are you doing?”

Above them all, Sverrir frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Prince Loki,” he said. “Lord Yngvarr had given me his permission, and Lady Sigyn has accepted. Why can I not marry her?”

Loki didn’t blink. “Because she’s already married to me.”

The crowd exploded into outraged gasps.

Besides him, a wicked grin was blooming across Sigyn’s face.

Sverrir seemed to have been rendered incapable of response. He stood stuttering on the podium, any words he did manage drowned out by the commotion of the entire court processing what was turning out to be even more of a scandal than the last time the Vanir prince came to visit.

Until finally one voice cut through the chaos.

“Liar!” yelled Yngvarr, pushing his way through the crowd. “My daughter would not betray her family in such a manner.” He turned back to Sverrir, fuming. “Your Highness, I’m afraid Prince Loki seems to be playing a prank, and a decidedly unfunny one at that, at the expense of my daughter’s reputation.”

Loki opened his mouth to protest his offense, but before he could find the words, yet another voice joined the foray of madness.

“It’s not a prank, Daddy!” Milla grinned, materializing seemingly out of thin air to pull at her father’s sleeve. “It’s real! I heard them talking about it a week ago.”

Yngvarr whipped around so quickly that one of his whiskers caught on his shoulder plate. “What?”

“Uh huh,” she nodded. “Prince Loki came through the window! They were talking about how they were going to get married as soon as possible, because they love each other so much and they’re soulmates and … and …” she trailed off, seeming to only just be realizing that every pair of eyes in the ballroom was on her.

“And what?” snapped Yngvarr.

Sigyn stepped forward. “And I’m pregnant!”

The roar was deafening.

She turned back towards Loki with a smirk. He could only gape at her.

“What?” she asked. “Did you think I was going to let you have all the fun?”

Loki didn’t bother trying to find words. He just planted his lips on to hers. “I love you,” he whispered when he pulled away. He had never meant anything more in his life.

She laughed. “What now?”

“Well,” he said, grinning as he offered her his arm. “It seems we have to get married. After that—” he stopped abruptly. There was something in his pocket, something that he knew hadn’t been there before, bulky and solid. Frowning, he pulled it out to find the rough carving of a cat’s head tied to a loop of worn leather.

He looked up again in confusion. His eyes landed on Milla, beaming at him from across the room. She winked.

Good things happen when I wear it.

Loki smiled, slipping the charm back into his pocket. Next to him, Sigyn tugged at his arm.

“After that?” she repeated.

“After that?” he shrugged, smirking. “We improvise.”

[mimiplaysgames]

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. 

[mommymooze]

In the Boughs of the Goddess

TW: Battle, blood, injury, collapsed lung

The Golden Deer are fighting for their lives. You are teamed with Ignatz for this fight. You like working with him, he is attentive and great at keeping enemies from sneaking up from behind. Of course, just as you think this you see 3 fighters sneaking up on him! Placing yourself between him and the enemies with lances and swords is your job. You attack with your blade, quickly taking out one, then the other of the enemy. As you engage with the lance fighter, a fourth enemy approaching you from the back screams as Ignatz fires an arrow into their neck. Just a second too late however as his lance goes through your chest and peeks through the top of your chest. You finish the guy in front of you as Ignatz panics a little bit.

“Tell me what to do, I will do whatever you tell me to!” The green haired archer babbles.

“I can’t move with this spear in me. I’m going to lay down face first, put your foot on my back and pull it out!” You order him as you loosen and drop your front of your breast plate, the back stuck to you by the spear.

“Okay. I can do this.” He tries to reassure himself as he watches you lie face down, the lance standing straight up in front of him.

“Foot.” You say waiting for his foot on your back. Finally it is there. “PULL!!”

A sickening sound, ‘Slork’ comes from you as the lance is pulled free. You roll on your back leaving the back panel of your chest plate behind.

“Poison?” You ask him.

“No.” Ignatz says as he studies the tip of the spear. He throws it to the side.

You look around, the battle is still going on. You spy a large evergreen with huge branches hanging out from around its base. “Ignatz, help me get under that evergreen, we won’t be so visible hiding there.”

“Sure thing.” He says, trying to help you stand. The more you move, the harder your heart pumps and the more blood seems to come from your wound. Breathing is very painful, the exertion is making you cough, and you hide the blood you are coughing up from your friend. The large wide evergreen gives you perfect cover.

“See if you can peek through the branches, is anyone near that can help?” You ask.

Ignatz weaves through the branches. He can move a limb here and there and still keep undercover. “I can’t see anyone on our side nearby.” He says after sitting next to you. There are several enemies close. Be quiet.”

You try to breathe quietly, but there is a crackling sound every time you breathe in. You want to cough so badly but you know that it would attract enemies. The pain is barely tolerable. You roll on your side, the injury is towards Ignatz who gasps.

“You’re bleeding pretty bad.” He is on his knees whispering to you.

“You’ve learned a basic heal, right? Byleth made us all learn.”

He looks at you concerned. “It’s been quite a while.” He frowns.

You grab his shirt and pull him closer. You whisper the steps to him, manipulating your fingers as he nods along. He finally sits up straight. You listen to him quietly whisper the incantation of the spell, the warmth of his touch on your back is proof the healing spell is working. Perhaps it will slow the blood enough that you will live until help comes. You reach for a handkerchief in a pocket, waving at him to get it. You tell him to wad it up and shove it in the hole. Anything to help stop the flow of blood.

You ask him to crawl to the front of you and have his bow ready, the sounds of movement through the woods is coming closer. He can use your body as a shield if anyone investigates your hiding place.

Ignatz brushes your hair out of your face. He can hear the crackling every time you breathe. You’re also making wheezing sounds. It sounds so painful he wants to cry for you.

Someone out there is yelling orders and a person runs past the tree. Your right hand grips tighter on the handle of your sword. It is then quiet for a few minutes.

Ignatz relaxes a bit. “I should go look.”

“No! I can’t back you up. Worst thing we can do is get up too early.”

You are gasping for every breath, so hard to breathe, the pain is coming back. Ignatz is up on his elbow, peeking out the tree as best he can from there.

His face is illuminated by the light peeking in through the tree branches, giving him an ethereal glow. “You look like an angel.” You whisper to him, closing your eyes. “Thank you for healing me.” You cough, and it shakes you as you keep coughing and coughing, blood definitely coming out of your mouth, dripping down your chin.

“No, you’re going to make it!” He declares as he stands up inside the tree checking for enemies. He then leaves the cover of the branches and looks skyward for Claude or anyone on a flying beast.

Ignatz spies someone on a wyvern, luckily it’s Claude. He gives their leader the signal for needing help and Claude acknowledges. The young man quickly checks around him, no signs or sounds of fighting nearby, he knows he needs to get you out in the open for rescue.

He helps pull you out from under the tree, lying you on the grass in the late afternoon sun.

You cough again, it crackles very loudly inside and outside of you.

Ignatz kneels over you, “Anything I can do?”

“No.” You begin, interrupted by a cough. “I need to *wheeze* confess something. *cough*. I might’ve snuck into the room that you paint in and *cough hack *saw your work. It’s so beautiful. *coughcoughcough* The way you paint a meadow I can almost smell the flowers and feel the gentle breeze.” You have a huge coughing fit, glad to confess your sin against him.

“I’m, I’m not mad.” He blushes. “J-just embarrassed.”

“When we get out of this I want to pay you *cough* to paint a picture...of me.*hackcoughbleed* I’m not that beautiful, but if you painted me I know I could be. In the m-morning s-sun, *coughbleedhack* in a yellow dress surrounded by trees and flowers. Feeding a fawn. *coughcracklehacklecough* When the war is over it can remind me of being in the Golden Deer, but especially of you. You are so amazing and talented. *cough gurgle*”

The sounds of a horse approaching redirects Ignatz’ attention. Leonie and Marianne arrive. Marianne finds that your punctured lung has collapsed and you have lost a lot of blood. She heals and cleans the wound dressing it quickly before they put you on the back of Dorte, returning you to camp.

You awaken with the dawn, pillows stuffed in front of and behind you, keeping you from lying on the healing wound and helping with breathing. You cough, alerting a healer that is nearby who runs over, rubbing your back until you are done. Taking your hand away you find little blood. That is a good sign.

Marianne soon comes to see how you are doing. She performs additional healing spells and you feel the pressure in your chest lessen. She advises that you are going to be out of it for a while, you need to strengthen your lungs. You can speak, but not much above a whisper, anything louder hurts too much. The bandage on the front of your chest is itching, a good sign that the healing magic is working. Byleth pokes his head around the corner and Marianne nods at him.

The former Professor comes to the side of the bed and sits in the chair. “You made it. We are all very happy.” You see a tiny bit of a smile on his face.

Reaching out you grab his hand and squeeze it. “Ignatz did a great job protecting me and helping me.”

“I will thank him again. Take care, you have several visitors waiting.” He says as he stands to leave. “Nice flowers. Your favorites, as I recall.” He notes as he brushes his finger against a yellow rose on the table next to you as he leaves.

After a pause, Ignatz steps hesitantly into the room. “Hi.” He says as he walks closer to you, as if he is approaching a wounded animal.

You smile widely at his presence. “Oh! Good to see you again.” You whisper.

“You’re looking much better now.” He smiles gently and nods.

You reach out your hand to take his in yours. It is warm. You place his palm on your cheek. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” You hope it sounds as heartfelt as you feel.

“You’re welcome. You would have done the same for me, the same for anyone. We’re all here together and need to help each other.” He smiles, brushing his hand on your cheek, then putting some loose strands of your hair back behind your ear.

“Did you give me the flowers? They’re beautiful.” You smile.

Ignatz blushes. “Maybe.” He says, looking away for a moment. “I should probably let the others come see you. I’ll be back later, okay?” He smiles as he stands.

You smile back. “I would really like it if you have time, please do visit me.”

He awkwardly bows, then nearly sprints from the room.

Claude marches in next. He smiles genuinely as he announces how happy he is now that one of his best swordsmen is on the mend. He asks for your version of the battle that day, filling you in on what you’ve missed as well as giving you information on the last war council meeting. He pats your head and wishes you well as he sends Raphael into the room.

“Hey! You’re looking great!” The boisterous brawler announces as he enters.

“Hey! I’m feeling pretty good.” You whisper back.

Suddenly Raphael’s shoulders drop a bit and he sits down. He whispers as softly as he can (which is not very soft but he’s trying) “I hope they’re treating you good in here. Let me know if I can bring you food or something.” He smiles widely.

“I’ll let you know. It is great to see you. Did you get hurt? I don’t see anyone else in here so I hope everyone is good.” You whisper, starting to feel tired.

“Aww, we’re great. You’ve been out for four days. Ignatz was in here every day until the kicked him out so he would sleep in his own bed. I’ve been keeping him eating regularly, can’t let your body suffer just because you’re worried. But I bet he’s back to himself now that you’re doing good.” The smile on his face is enough to cheer anyone, and it works very well on you.

“I’m glad you’re there to take care of him. I’ll be out and sparring with you as soon as Marianne says I can.” You answer, reaching out and squeezing his hand.

The rest of the Golden Deer filter in throughout the morning, all wanting to make sure they can see you alive and kicking after being out of commission for so many days. You doze between visits. The healers let you have some broth for lunch, then make you take an afternoon nap that you don’t argue about at all. Dinner is light and soft foods.

Once it is dark, Ignatz comes for another visit. You talk together for a while about what is going on, what everyone is doing. Then he finally pulls out his sketchbook. He wants to show you a drawing that came to him.

“It isn’t finished, this is just the raw base of it, but I wanted to know what you thought.” He shyly turns the page then hands the book to you.

There is a figure that resembles his image of the goddess. From the chest up, she is in her glorious, beautiful form. She has a peaceful look on her face. Then the dress flows out from her, becoming the boughs of an evergreen tree, opening up to provide sanctuary, her hands pull the front open like a curtain. There on the ground at her feet are two figures lying face to face huddled closely together.

“Oh. This is beautiful. I understand your thoughts completely about this work. I love the progression and change as she becomes the tree. I wish I had better words to describe it.” You smile back at him as a tear falls from your eye as you sigh.

“Thank you. I felt it really captured the moment.” He says softly as you hand his book back to him.

You talk a little longer then say good night.

After a few days you are finally released from the infirmary. Leonie helps you out for a few days, walking takes your breath away fairly quickly and you have to make frequent stops. She helps carrying things for you or just making sure you’re not overworking yourself. Finally you are strong enough to be on your own.

After dining with the rest of the Deer, Ignatz says he is headed off to do some painting. You ask if you can join him and he says yes.

He asks how you are feeling and your recovery progress. Marianne said that you can work on sword forms, but once you feel winded you have to sit and rest until your body completely calms and your breathing is normal. You’ve promised to follow her instructions to the letter.

Ignatz sets up his easel, getting his paints ready and the both of you become quiet. You bring a book to read with you and you settle yourself on the soft grass of the hill. Occasionally one of you will say something, but mostly just enjoy the time being quiet in each other’s company. Once the sun starts to set, you ask him to sit next to you so you can watch it together. Your shoulders brush up against each other occasionally making one of you blush. You sneak peeks at each other, somehow never quite getting caught by the other.

You can’t take this anymore, so you place your hand on top of his. When he doesn’t take his away, you weave your fingers through his as the last light of the sun flees from the horizon.

You sit there for a few minutes longer, until a bit of a breeze reminds you it’s going to get cold quickly now that the sun’s warmth is no longer there.

“We should get back while we have a little light.” You quietly murmer.

Ignatz packs up his things, you take the easel, which is fairly lightweight, so he can better hold his still wet painting. You walk side by side to the storage room turned painting workshop for him. He places the painting on a stand as you put the tripod on the wall next to another one, you start to turn but then notice it was not secure, so you turn back and rearrange it. You didn’t see Ignatz step up behind you to see if you needed help.

You turn around, bumping into his chest with yours. “Oh” you gasp.

“Oops.” he smiles.

The two of you stand there for a moment chest to chest, then you both lean in towards each other until your lips gently touch. You reach around his shoulders to gently pull him closer, his hands gripping you tightly at your waist.

Your face turns pink as you smile widely and look away.

“You’re so beautiful.” he whispers, his hand reaching under your chin to gently pull your lips back into his.

Pulling back to get a fresh breath of air, you whisper into his lips, “I find you handsome as well, my angel.”

[mythrilhusk]

Korosensei Never Dies - Chapter 7

Words - 2,153 AO3 Version Chapter 6 (Last)

Chapter 8 (Next)

TW: vague body horror, violence, threats

The floor trembles as a nearby generator turns on to power the flickering lights. The sterile brightness slices painfully through Ranboo's head. He winces and tries to cover his eyes, only to discover his wrists are bound behind his metal chair. Out of curiousity, he tries to move his feet. Also bound. The taste of dry cotton in his mouth warns of the muffled noises he produces when he tries to shout. 

Lacking options, Ranboo takes in his surroundings. The tight, grimy walls and lack of windows hint that he could be in a bunker. For the moment, his mind is calmly blank, clear of panic, but that could change in an instant. Not this again. Ranboo shakes his head. His fingers reach and clench in thin air, desperate to cling to his book, feel the glittery cover, see the bright colors of the kittens dolphins. 

Sounds of muffled outrage echo through the otherwise silent halls. Ranboo perks up, listening intently. He can't tell who else is in this predicament with him. 

What happened? Blurry flashes of terror, of pain, of rage, boil just beneath the level of recollection. The dart in his neck, spitting poison into his veins, weakening his limbs- 

He can't recall anything. Not even the terror as his friends scream for help, scream in anger, what are they angry for, why are they scared, why are you scared? 

Ranboo clenches his eyes closed, trying to shut out the creeping panic and the soft voice. 

You're scared because you hurt them.

Ranboo shakes his head frantically. No! No, he would never hurt anyone.

But you would. And you did. They're all here, now, because of your little display. Oh, you won't die. But does he need them?

Who's he?? Ranboo glares at the wall, unable to visualize the voice that sounds so very familiar.

"Aren't you an unusual find." The man slouches in the door, draped in an oversized purple hoodie. "Heh. Techno will want you back, won't he." 

Ranboo scowls at the man as best he can with a sock in his mouth. Technoblade and Philza wouldn't care if he disappeared. 

"You want to talk? Too bad. Maybe later. You don't get privileges after what you did to us." 

The sock contains Ranboo's shouts and curses. 

The man smiles grimly and turns, limping out. "Your friends are fine. For now. Fuck up and one of them dies." 

Tears leak out of Ranboo's eyes, burning and blurring his vision. He hangs his head and trembles with small, miserable sobs. He can't even remember what he did to deserve this.

++++

It's the weekend after exams. Summer vacation. And that means time to fuck shit up. Philza has given out a schedule for the fighting classes, so he'll be preoccupied with that, but Technoblade has other plans. 

Techno strides out of the building, narrowing his eyes at the camouflaged form of Awesamdude in the trees. The government security agent has been watching him for a while. Techno's not technically allowed out of Sam's perimeter around the building, but rules are for losers. 

"Techno." Sam greets him as Techno strides past. "Where are you going?" 

Techno wrinkles his nose, wishing he'd transformed into his chrysaor state earlier. Human form tends to be limiting, and the boar-like attributes, not to mention the multiple sets of wings, are useful for intimidation purposes. "Oh, nowhere in particular. I just thought I'd boost the economy of the nearby town with some of your president's money." 

"Have you seen Tommy anywhere?" 

"Mm, no. I'd assume he's on vacation." 

"Interesting." Sam's expression is completely unreadable. The leaves behind him make a fascinating shape, almost like a dog. Techno stares at the waving greenery, failing to catch Sam's next words. 

"What's that? The leaves distracted me." 

"I said, I got a strange call from him, but now I can't find him anywhere." 

"That's odd." Techno yawns. The kid is probably off gallivanting somewhere and laughing about pranking Sam. "Did you try Quackity's treehouse?" 

"No- he has a treehouse? Where?" 

"Forget I said anything." Technoblade waves a dismissive hand. 

"Tell me, Techno." Sam growls. 

Technoblade considers the effort of intimidating Sam, added to the potential backlash onto Philza, and decides it's totally worth it. "Oh, I'm keeping you safe. It's for your own good." 

"Huh? Techno, what do you mean?" 

"Quackity and the Ducklings will shoot first." Technoblade lets a slow smile crack across his face. He can see Quackity sneaking up behind Sam. 

"They're teens, how aggressive can they be?" 

"We sharpen the motherfucking bones of our enemies and use them to slaughter every bastard who stands in our way." Quackity drops down from the tree, grinning wickedly. "Oh, and Tommy isn't at our place, either. I was just looking for him." 

"Quackity." Techno greets the teen with equanimity. 

"Techno." Quackity returns in the exact same tone. 

"Uh, alright, I'm going to go see if Tubbo knows." Sam moves off awkwardly. "Techno, don't leave the perimeter. I will know." 

"Will you, now." Techno returns in a slow drawl. 

"I've got the kill switch, Techno. Don't push me." Sam scowls, then yelps as Quackity kicks him in the shin.  

"Fucking don't ever threaten the old man again, you bastard." 

"Don't let Phil hear you call him that." Techno reproaches with a grim smile. 

"Alright, alright!" Sam cries, losing the battle for his dignity as Quackity manages to steal his cap and then proceeds to wear it. "Techno, go ahead, but if you hurt anyone in the town, there will be consequences." 

"Who said anything about killing? There's no major governmental figures down there. They're safe from me." 

Sam gives a pained sigh and then strides off to look for Tommy. Quackity sticks his tongue out at Techno, then trots to catch up with Sam, still wearing the agent's hat. 

Techno heaves a relieved sigh at finally being alone and free to wander. Hidden in the seclusion of the trees, he stretches out his wings and breathes in the aromatic air. The thousands of souls murmuring in his veins hunger for blood. Not yet, though. Not quite yet. 

++++

Wilbur keeps his eyes closed, feigning sleep as he examines his situation. His feet are free, but his wrists are bound, and there's a gag tied around his mouth. He can hear Tommy beside him, raging through his own gag. Charlie whimpers on Tommy's other side. 

Where's Eret and Ranboo?? What the hell happened?? Wilbur tries to think back.

<<~rewind~<< 

Eret suggested building a treehouse like the Ducklings'. He said he knew a good place for it, so Wilbur and Tommy followed him. Charlie tagged along, cracking terrible jokes with Wilbur. 

After passing the perimeter, which seemed to have been deactivated, Eret stopped at a huge tree. Ranboo showed up out of the blue, disoriented and asking Eret why he was there. 

And then- and then- what happened? 

Wings, so many wings, bird and bat and beetle and butterfly- 

Ranboo transformed. There's no other way to say it. The quiet, creepy boy who had always sat at the back of the classroom went absolutely feral for no goddamn reason. 

A man appeared, dropping from the trees, buried in an oversized hoodie. He was unfamiliar, but Eret fought by his side like they'd sparred together before. Ranboo, or whatever creature Ranboo had become, grew weaker and slower by the moment, lashing out at whatever was closest. Wilbur dragged Tommy away from the fight and tried to flee. 

Charlie was wounded while trying to break up the fight and calm Ranboo down. Tommy screamed and tried to run back to save him. Wilbur had to follow, he couldn't let his idiot friend die on his own. 

Eret stepped back as Ranboo finally fell unconscious to the ground. The mutant-- or angel-- looked almost adorable, lying there in a limp puddle of wings and eyes and claws. Tommy pulled bandages out of his backpack and started binding Charlie's wounds. 

Wilbur remembers the next few moments vividly. 

"Eret, fucking help me!" Tommy snapped. 

"No hard feelings, boys." Eret said. 

A dart pricked Wilbur's arm. Tommy shrieked as he was darted as well. "You bastard, you fuckin basss..." He didn't get to finish his words. 

Unable to move, Wilbur soon followed Tommy into unconsciousness. 

>>~present~>>

Remembering the events only leaves Wilbur with more questions. But one of them is about to be answered. The man in the hoodie stands over him, his heavy footsteps so unlike Eret's. 

"I know you're awake, Wilbur." 

Wilbur opens his eyes and shrugs eloquently. 

"I want you to write a letter." 

Wilbur makes an agreeable noise through the gag.

"Alright, I'll take the gag off. There's nobody near for miles, so screaming won't do anything besides piss me off." 

"Who are you?" Wilbur asks as soon as the gag is off. 

"Purpled." The man checks his wrists to make sure they're still tightly bound. 

"What would you like me to write?" Wilbur attempts civility. There's no point in pissing off his captor yet. 

"A ransom note." Purpled doesn't smile as he moves to check Tommy's wrists. Tommy attempts to headbutt him, but recieves a smack for his trouble. 

"Don't fucking touch Tommy, you son of a bitch." Wilbur snarls, anger sparking in his eyes. 

"Alright." Purpled laughs, pissing Wilbur off further. "Eret, got a pencil and paper?" 

"Yes, sir." Eret limps inside, one arm dangling, broken. 

"I hope it hurts like hell." Wilbur glares at him, baring his teeth. 

"Ha... I assure you, it hurts plenty." Eret gives a small, guilty laugh. "But you'll all be safe. We aren't going to hurt any of you. All we need is bait." 

Purpled unties Wilbur's hands. "Be good." 

"He just said none of us will be hurt." Wilbur retorts, stretching his sore fingers. "What're you going to do if I try to escape?" 

"I'll kill Tommy." Purpled says darkly. 

Wilbur shoots a venomous glare at Eret. "Hm??" 

Eret puts the pencil and paper on a nearby table and moves to the door silently. Purpled answers for him, "We don't plan to hurt you if everyone behaves. But step a toe out of line, and someone will get hurt." 

"What do you want me to write?" Wilbur decides to change the subject. He won't let Tommy be hurt, no matter what. 

++++

Technoblade returns to the school at night, practically inhaling pockies from the several boxes he acquired in the town. The townspeople had freaked out upon his arrival, but they'd been amenable to contributing food in return for his timely departure without harming anyone. 

He enters the school building and flicks on the lights. Philza tilts his head up, raising the brim of his hat to peer at Techno with narrowed eyes. "You're back late." 

"I got distracted." Read: there were fluffy dogs, and Techno gave all of them pats. "Want some pocky?" 

"Sure, mate." Philza catches the box thrown to him, and snaps one of the chocolate-covered biscuits between his teeth. "I just got some troubling news, Techno. But I want you to stay out of this one. I have reason to think it's a trap." 

Techno shrugs with a dry grin. "You really think I'd let myself be taken down by a trap? What's going on?" 

"It's Purpled, mate." 

"Oh." Technoblade clenches his claws into fists, his eyes darkening. "What makes you think I don't want revenge?" 

"I know you do, Techno." Philza says apologetically. "But it ain't safe. He's gotta be working with Schlatt, you know that. If Schlatt is making a move, that means he's got something up his sleeve he thinks can take care of you." He chomps another pocky. "Look, I'll take care of this one." 

Techno strides up to Philza and snatches him up by his coat. "I can't let you be captured, too." He growls. He can't let Philza be taken away, not again.

"I won't be. I'll get help." Philza smiles and presses his hand to Techno's bristly cheek. Techno pulls him into an embrace. "There, there, you big lug, I'll be fine." 

"What happened?" 

"Purpled kidnapped some of your students. Wilbur, Tommy, Charlie, and Ranboo. Eret helped him. I just got the ransom note." 

Technoblade drops Philza with a gruff snort and turns away. "I'm coming with." 

"No, you're not." Philza retorts. "It's a trap." 

"How can you be sure it's not a trap for you, too?? I can't- I can't let them take you, Philza, I can't." 

"If Schlatt wanted me, he'd have me. He's got President Skeppy in his pocket. You know that." 

"Take Sam." Techno growls. "If you refuse to take me with you, at least take Sam." 

"I already asked. He's not allowed to interfere." 

"He will be held accountable if you're harmed." 

"I'll be okay, mate." 

"You better be, Philza. Or I don't know what I'll do." Technoblade gives a dry, ragged laugh. That's a lie. He knows exactly what he'll do. 

Chapter 8 (Next)

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

MARS / / SFW & NSFW ALPHABETS (picrew links)

SFW ALPHABET / /

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

There are a few reasons Mars would be more affectionate than usual: 1), you’ve been a very good little toy and he wants to reward you for it, 2) you’re in public and he wants to keep up appearances of the perfect partner, 3) he wants something and he wants you to be putty in his hands for when he asks, 4) he’s just actually feeling affectionate to a human, this only happens for one day every hundred years, enjoy it while it lasts!

B = Best friend (Who is their best friend? How did the friendship start?)

Since he doesn’t have attachments to humans outside of ego boosts, idle attraction, and his desire to “play” with them, August is his best friend. The two have always had a strong rivalry, but at the end of the day they would do anything for one another. Mars always teases him about being younger than he is, but they’re very close in age – give or take two hundred years. Close for an angel!

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He’s not a big cuddler, he thinks it’s a waste of time, which is probably a good thing, because he’s kind of bad at it. He either holds you too tight like a teddy bear, or too loose so you feel unwanted. Very occasionally at night if you snuggle up against his chest he’ll put his arm around you and it’ll finally be nice.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He’s been living the way he’s been living for thousands of years, to a human he may not seem settled down, but he is. Cleaning? Hahahahahaha. Cooking? Actually very good! Exclusively because cooking together is his favourite bonding activity with his baby sister Emala.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He kills them. Sometimes he’ll just forget himself and go too far, sometimes he’ll want the ego boost from reminding them just how powerful he is and how pathetic they are, and sometimes he just doesn’t want anyone else to have them. Depending on how severely they pissed him off, he’ll ruin everything they love in front of them, leave them to soak in complete anguish and agony for a little while, and then kill them in the most painful way possible. You do not end things with Mars. When he’s done with you, you’re done.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

The only reason he’d get married is for his social reputation, or because he was bored and was looking for a party or social event. Surprisingly, Mars is actually committed to his partner: he doesn’t cheat. For the time you have him, he really is yours… or you’re his.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

I mean, even if he’s being rough by human standards, that’s still him being gentle because he’s an angel. But he does have rare moments of gentleness with his favourite pets. To his family he’s very gentle and caring (unless he’s trying to behead August in a sparring match.) But… yeah, no in general he’s not gentle, physically or emotionally, to his toys.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He doesn’t really like hugs. With his family, he’ll tolerate them and give them back, but with humans he’s less lenient. He might not push you away, but you’ll be able to tell he really doesn’t care/his heart isn’t in it.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He usually says it for the first time when his partner says it for the first time. And hey, he means it… in his own way.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

You have to be very careful how you act around Mars and other people, because he gets jealous very easily, and it will never end well for either you or the person he’s jealous of.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Mars has two types of kisses. The first is a very chaste one for when you’re out in public, or for when he’s deciding to tease you. If it were anybody else it would be a very sweet type of kiss, but with him there’s just something about it that leaves you frustrated and wanting more – and he knows it. The other is an incredibly passionate, hungry, almost bruising kiss. Mars doesn’t usually kiss just to kiss, even if you have a super long make out session, it won’t just end there.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Surprisingly, he’s great with kids. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t like them very much.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mars wakes up very early, so when you wake up, he’ll already be gone – either to fly or spar with August, or check in on Heaven. If he’s feeling particularly affectionate, he’ll arrange for breakfast in bed to be sent up to you. On those days you know you’ll get whatever you want when he gets back. But sometimes you’ll wake up to find him grooming his wings or styling his hair, dressing for the day. You’re welcome to help him with his wings; he knows how talented your fingers are.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

You know exactly how nights are spent with him… and days… and evenings… and mornings… He holds a lot of social gatherings at night, so you’ll be dressed up and be on your best behaviour. Sometimes there are just chill nights where you watch movies, cook together, listen to music, dance, or go to sleep early, but those domestic nights are very few and far between.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He reveals what he needs to to you. Nothing more, nothing less. Especially not the things he refuses to acknowledge himself. His sisters would probably tell you more about him than he would.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Patience is not a word in his extensive vocabulary.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about their partners? Do they remember every little detail they mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He has too good of a memory – unless he doesn’t care.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in their relationship?)

The first time you prayed to him. It actually surprised him and made him feel genuinely affectionate for a second. (Just make sure you don’t bother him too often, you want to keep that fond kind of novelty intact.)

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect their partners? How would they like to be protected?)

He is extremely protective of anything and everything he considers his. You don’t have to worry about anything hurting you while you’re under his protection. You are completely safe… just not from him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He is very extravagant about that kind of thing, again mostly for how people perceive him – including you. He’ll pull out all the stops.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

… It’s Mars we’re talking about here. He’s endlessly vain, selfish and arrogant, doesn’t care about your feelings, basically treats you like an armpiece, a pet, a toy and a fleshlight, will get murderously jealous when you so much as talk to another person, goes way too far during sex, will find things that upset you just to be able to use them against you, very easily angered, impatient, lies, talks down to you, can’t control his temper, throws extremely dangerous tantrums when he doesn’t get what he wants, etc, etc, etc, we could go on for hours.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He is painfully vain. He is obsessed with himself, his appearance, and how other people see him.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their partner?)

*cough* abandonment issues *cough*

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He is genderfluid between male and female. While his sibling August is more free with their gender expression, eg: wearing dresses in their male form and suits in their female form, Mars prefers to keep with more gendered ideas, like only wearing make-up in her female form. It just feels better to her.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Anyone who disobeys him, anyone who thinks they’re better than him, anyone with too much fire, anyone who doesn’t like him, anyone who challenges his opinions, anyone who mentions the things he doesn’t like to acknowledge about himself.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

His guilty conscience frequently gives him nightmares. They’re fairly nonsensical and he gets defensive if asked about them.

 -

NSFW ALPHABET / /

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It really depends. A lot of the time he doesn’t do aftercare at all, he’ll just up and leave to tend to something more important. Yet other times he’ll lie with you for a bit, basking in his complete and utter ruining of you. And yet others you can bribe him into cuddling you and being nice. Depends on his mood and what you’re willing to offer him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Shockingly, Mars is actually extremely body positive. He’s shallow in the way that he has to think his partner is incredibly attractive to want anything to do with them, but he likes all types of bodies. He definitely has a thing for pretty mouths, though. On himself, he likes everything. I would call him a vain bastard again, but let’s be honest, I don’t blame him, he’s hot.

(Just in: local man extremely progressive and admirable, will abuse anybody regardless of how they look!!!!!)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Mars doesn’t really like much mess, so he cums mostly inside his toy (he likes the idea he’s claimed them deeper than other people.) However, if he feels like you need to know your place, he’ll cum on your face or body.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I’ll be real with you fam, probably a daddy kink due to his issues. But he would never admit it in a billion years.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think he has the general jist, he’s had a few millennia of practice.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything that really solidifies how in control he is, and how little control his partner has.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

The closest thing to jokes he makes are teasing and degrading his partner. I would say don’t tell too many jokes or you’ll piss him off, but I think you’d have a hard time formulating words anyway.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He shaves, but he doesn’t really need to: his hair is very blond and barely noticeable. It’s mostly for the vanity.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

The most tenderness he’ll show is gentle mockery and condescension when his partner is really dazed, or in a submissive head space.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

If he’s horny, he’ll just have sex with his partner. But sometimes, if his partner has been disobedient, he’ll force them to sit and watch him touch himself, telling them everything he would do to them if they hadn’t disappointed him, until they crumple and beg to touch him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s extremely dominant, he fancies himself to be a dom, but he has no respect for his partner so he’s not. Even in her female form, if she wants to be penetrated, she’ll always be the one on top (he rarely wants to be penetrated in his male form, but again, if he ever does, he’ll always be the one in control.) He likes to lightly humiliate and degrade his partner. He likes extremely rough sex. He just likes to have power over them and have them worship him, anything that feeds into his pride, control and arrogance. I could go on but you get the idea.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere. And I do mean everywhere. He can shift realities just enough for he and his partner to be out of sight and hearing of anybody around in a public space, it’s how angels keep their wings hidden. He doesn’t care if you’re in the middle of a crowded restaurant, if he wants to take you into a corner and fuck you he will do it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If he’s in the mood, he’s in the mood. Anything you do will turn him on, no matter how innocuous it is. You wearing clothes he picked out for you, wearing his shirts, complimenting him, wearing lingerie, touching him, sitting in his lap, praying to him, being cute or seductive in any way, it really doesn’t take much for him to pin you down.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that gives his partner agency or control. Even though he does very occasionally like being penetrated in his male form, one time a female partner asked to peg him and the look he gave her was borderline hilarious.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He receives it. He’ll give it only if you promise him something in return, he’s trying to manipulate you into doing something for him, or as praise if you’ve been particularly good for him. He’s good at it when he does give it, though.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Extremely rough. He’s only slow if he wants to get you begging for him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He loves them. Get some of the tension out and see how much he can destroy his toy in a short amount of time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

None of the risk or potential discomfort is on him, so you better hope he has the decency to warn you before he jumps something new and intense on you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has too much endurance. If he wants to, he will fuck you until you literally can’t take any more and you pass out. He will last longer than you, even if he’s cum a few times already, he can and will keep going.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Mars owns quite a few toys, and will gift you many for when he’s gone – he likes it when you send him videos of you appreciating those gifts.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It depends: if he’s impatient and super horny he’ll just get straight into fucking you, but if he’s in the mood to be an asshole, he’ll tease you until you cry.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not very loud, which just means that when you do get a moan out of him, it has more weight.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Not naming any names, but some angels’ wings are extremely sensitive, enough for them to kind of get off to them being touched. Unfortunately, Mars doesn’t have that sensitivity, but it does feel nice when you touch his wings – kind of like you touching his stomach or chest.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s built like a marble statue made by a very horny gay sculptor. His true form is also very pretty, if you overlook all the bleeding eyes and the physics-defying flames and impossible angles and swords, but those things would be very easy to overlook considering the fact it would blind you. As for down there, he’s big. No surprise there. Almost intimidating. But while you might nervously eye it for a minute the first time you see it, it’s not bad enough to have you quickly gathering your things and booking it out of there.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

You better just hope you can keep up with him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t. If he’s feeling very benevolent, he’ll lay with you for a bit afterward and let you cuddle up to him. Mostly, though, he leaves you to pass out from the rough sex alone.

[iwritethat]

Jason Todd: Should’ve - Part 2

Request: Multiple requests for a Part 2

A/N: Finally!

Warnings: Strong language, a tad of angst I suppose

>>>>——————————>

~ Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~

It was a funny situation, you refused to step foot anywhere near Outlaw safe-houses since the incident, nor could you pinpoint exactly how you felt about the situation. You were never dating; never labelled your relationship anything more than friends by association so you couldn't hate him for his actions; you'd never said you'd loved each other so he had no idea how his choices would affect your feelings - but you had the right to be angry, to be furious and to be as vengeful as you wished. You'd pushed yourself to learn everything from Black Canary leaving you with mastery in a variety of martial arts, your training with Green Arrow meant you rarely missed and even took to sparring with Wonder Woman. However, Arrowette had become Oliver's new protege and the girl looked up to you unconditionally, her presence influenced your decision to leave having outgrown being a sidekick.

.

Your friends kept in touch, Kyle Rayner and yourself had grown closer with his adventures in alternate galaxies keeping you distracted as well as regular trips to Los Angeles. Roy acted no different, he visited frequently like nothing had changed which gave you opportunities to inquire about Jason and the Outlaws despite Roy's reluctance to bring up the subject. You knew he felt guilty about your heartbreak, but you'd assured him it wasn't his fault and thanked him for letting you make your own decisions, you could never resent him for that. You'd learned that Roy had left shortly afterwards, choosing to focus on improving his own mental health and Kori had joined the Titans leaving Jason to his own devices.

"He still asks about you y'know..."

"Like I give a shit Roy." You frustratingly sighed, experimenting with your technologically advanced arrowheads.

"I know... Anyways, there's a new Outlaws team, a superman clone called Bizarro and Artemis of Bana-Mighdall. They're kinda... close?" Roy shrugged, awkwardly rubbing his neck as your attention focused on him at the mention of new members.

"Artemis?! Who the hell is that?"

"Forgotten already (Y/n)?"

You flicked around to see the smiling blonde archer, better known as Tigress in the vigilante game.

"Ah I missed you Arty, but I meant Jason's new teammate."

"Hold up, this whole boy drama is about the Red Hood? ROY! What the hell??? How could you let our lil dork go near him?" Artemis shot a deadly glare to Roy, practically raging with this new information much to your amusement.

"Whatever replacement, it's (Y/n)'s life." Roy simply shrugged, unphased by her actions which only aggravated her further.

"You're supposed to be looking out for them whilst I'm not around, you should've done something!"

"I'm right here and old enough to make my own decisions!" You cut in, confident in your words.

"See." Roy gestured to you after your statement, emphasising his point to Arty.

"Shut it Arse, I love this dysfunctional Arrow family but I don't need looking after anymore remember. I'm flying solo." You quelled their sibling-like spat with a calmer tone offering them both a kind smile.

The two exchanged a worried glance, understanding that you were in a lot more danger alone and your carelessness toward your wellbeing wouldn't help matters. As for your latest mission in Gotham City? That was risky considering the Outlaws were also running around.

———

Jason paused, eyeing the way the mysterious shadow moved with such deadly elegance and although your uniform had drastically darkened to that of an assassin-like attire, he could recognise your personal movements anywhere as much as he regretted being able to do so. He was suddenly on hyper alert, disregarding whatever his task was to shadow you from above ensuring you were safe.

It was almost instinct to do so, the vigilante clocking a sniper up above your angelic form ready to shoot. He didn’t have the opportunity to think, automatically jumping down to your level and pinning you behind a pillar before shooting the marksman himself.

"Ah... ouchhh~" You rubbed the back of your head, finding your back against cold stone with a sculpted body flutteringly close to your own as if shielding you whilst he dealt with the threat with his free hand holding a gun.

"Damnit (Y/n)! Are you okay?!" Upon hearing your voice, he lowered his weapon, turning to you with a sense of urgency.

"What the- Jason?! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" You immediately pushed him away from you, anger getting the best of your emotions.

"I just saved your life!" He argues back, equally as passionate about this discussion.

"I didn't need saving asshole, I had a plan that's gone to shit because of you. Guess you have a habit of doing that huh?" You gestured to the perpetrator, the marksman covered in a web substance holding him in place thus unable to shoot you. Jason observed, noticing the automated crossbow set up to fire on your signal - you knew what you were doing and he’d ruined it.

"You almost got shot! I'm not leaving until I know you're alright."

"Didn't stop you last time." You bit back, the remark dissipating Jason’s argument.

"(Y/n) I-"

"It's (v/n) to you." You brushed him off with little more than a glance, although he instinctively grasped your forearm and upon realising, had to make a plausible excuse for his need of contact.

"I've got a new team with some superpowers, I can assist."

"Yeah no, as I remember 'You're not strong enough to be apart of the Outlaws' were your exact words, so I'll pass." And with that you turned you back on him like he’d done to you.

.

You made it to the rooftop, target now out of sight but a flash of scarlet caught your peripheral vision, leading you to duck, flip and face your opponent.

"Who the heck are you?"

"Artemis of Bana-Mighdall. You?"

Oh. She was beautiful, strong, and an Amazon - no wonder Jason was into her, so there was no point in sticking around awaiting the painful truth which would crush your heart all over again.

"I'm outta here."

"Wrong. Where is Red Hood?" The woman cocked a brow, axe held out to block your pathway as you glared at her, stepping back to cross your arms.

"Like I give a damn, find him yourself." Artemis didn't appreciate your tone, pointing her weapon at you with a more demanding voice this time.

"If you've hurt him I -"

"Oh trust me, I'd love to kick his ass for everything he did but I have better things to do." You readied a defensive stance, the woman clearly preparing an attack as she swung until Jason protectively slid in front of you, tossing his helmet to the concrete.

"Don't even think about it!"

Artemis halted, confusion written in her expression as she silently awaited an explanation as to why her teammate had been so deadly with his order. You on the other hand were furious with his display, drop kicking the vigilante and straddling him, pulling back your hood and scarf so your identity was on full display leaving Jason slightly awestruck, he hadn't seen you in so long that he wasn't ready for the flood of feelings that overwhelmed his heart. He'd wanted to embrace you as he did when he used to return home because in a way you were home - although he knew you felt the opposite, all that was left for him in you was hatred and betrayal.

"What. The. Hell. Jason?" You punctuated every word, hands holding his shoulders to the concrete until he answered you.

"Makes sense now." Artemis muttered to herself, recognising you immediately as well as the way Jason gazed at you.

"Considering you blocked my number, I didn't expect you to jump on me so fast doll." He could never forget what you looked like, nor the sound of your voice even after all this time, despite knowing you hated his guts. Maybe that was why he was so cocky with you, it was better to put on a show than let you in.

"You know why I did that, you left me Jason!" He hated the pain in your voice, the way you emphasised exactly what he’d done and it killed him to hear it yet refused to back down.

"Why would that bother you so much? We're friends, you should understand."

"We were friends, not letting me join your team I could understand but just leaving me with no explanation? Ignoring my calls? Telling me to go back to Star City? Telling me to leave you alone? Those were things you didn't even try to help me understand so you don't have the right to question to my behaviour Jason!" Your words were spit like venom, poisoning your relationship further and only hurting Jason as he was forced to recall those repressed memories. He regretted it. He regretted everything.

.

"Love of Red Him?" The newcomer acted as a welcomed distraction, breaking the tense heavy silence that even Artemis seemed to wince at.

"What?"

"No - no... it's (Y/n)." Jason quickly corrected after you’d bluntly spoke, a lack of uncertainty filtering through despite his best efforts.

"(Y/n). Love of Red Him." The clone nodded in confirmation, agreeing with his leader who seemed mortified at the directness.

"Love? 'Red Him' isn't capable of it, Roy should've told me that and you should remember it." You coldly added, getting to your feet and walking toward the roof edge without looking back leaving the Outlaws in silence.

"I like her, more than anyone else I've met despite the angst. So is she still single after your decisions because I'd make her happier than you by the sounds of it." Artemis smugly commented, Jason chose to ignore her as his gaze watched you disappear into the night.

[saveandwin]

HC / META : IZUKU & CLASS 1-A, GENERAL HCs.

AOYAMA

after finding out that aoyama had been in the same boat as him when it came to their quirks -- the difficulty controlling them, the long road they had in mastering them and catching up to their classmates -- izuku formed a sort of friendship with aoyama. they don’t hang out or talk a lot, but izuku is no longer startled by aoyama’s sudden presence or offers of cheese. he eats lunch with aoyama in the classroom sometimes, and when they hang out they tend to go out for food --- aoyama’s introduced him to a lot of bakeries (and places with fancy food izuku boggles at because his wallet will cry at him) or has never heard of. some of is really delicious, with a lot of desserts. in return, izuku sometimes takes them to his favorite places : comic book stores, and bookstores. they discuss their quirks a lot, and izuku shares techniques and research that’s helped him in figuring out how to control his quirk. they’re very different people, but izuku enjoys talking to aoyama anyway.

MINA

mina is one of izuku’s favorite people to spar against in class 1-A, especially when it comes to close combat. she’s a heavy hitter and really skilled in close combat but also versatile, and izuku remembers how incredible she’d done in the sports festival earlier in the school year. she’s also a lot of fun to just be around. and yet somehow ... mina has managed to convince izuku to learn how to dance, too. izuku’s kind of sworn off it since the culture festival, but eventually gave in after mina’s prodding and convincing (he had to admit, she kind of had a point in how it could improve his fighting ---- a lot of people incorporated dance into their attack styles, some pros even being known for it, and it definitely made their fighting forms a lot cleaner and smoother and the hits land better so ----) . still, he’s ... pretty terrible at dancing, and trips over his own two feet a lot. but he’s trying! 

KAMINARI

with kaminari, he’s the person izuku likes to watch movies & play video games a lot with, whenever he has the time. kaminari’s funny and izuku never really had friends to play video-games with growing up, so he mostly played single player games. being able to finally have someone to play multi-player stuff with? it was a little bit of a dream come true. the only thing is ... at first he’s an okay behaved player -- a little timid, very fair and good natured about things. but very quickly it turns out ---- he’s very competitive, and while he won’t get angry or loud or mean, he gets intense. and he will show no mercy. he won’t snap out of it until the game is over, and then get sheepish about it and embarrassed but secretly pleased if he wins. movie watching is a lot more casual and relaxed, but a lot of the movie gets drowned out by their running commentary to one another.

KIRISHIMA

barring izuku’s close friends like iida, todoroki and ochako (and kacchan), izuku is the most casual with kirishima out of anyone in 1-A. after the raid and what happened with nighteye, he grew a lot closer to the other boy. not to mention, he really admires kirishima for his strength and passion and relates to him on his admiration for crimson riot, since it’s the same way izuku feels about all might. there’s no real set “thing” that he and kirishima do when they hang out, izuku just enjoys the other boy’s company. sometimes they spar, sometimes they play games, sometimes they just hang out and talk. it’s easy to be honest with kirishima, even if he can’t ever talk about the truth of his quirk or all might or anything else. but they’ve gone through similar things, and often hype each other up and cheer each other on. it’s a really comfortable friendship that izuku really cherishes.

KODA

izuku hangs out with koda in his room sometimes to pet and play with his pet bunny when he’s feeling down or exhausted or overwhelmed. actually getting to pet the bunny was a difficult task at first, mainly because the bunny didn’t trust him after the chase and capture when izuku and bakugo had been on house arrest. but eventually over time the bunny warmed up to him though, and izuku and koda have quiet conversations sometimes about nothing in particular. it’s very comforting, and while they don’t talk much, there’s a sort of camaraderie there, and izuku appreciates koda and his kindness.

SATO

Izuku takes baking and cooking lessons from Sato sometimes. Not a lot, unfortunately --- neither of them have much time to cook or bake, and Izuku dedicates most of his free time to studying or extra training. But Izuku’s managed to learn a couple of things from Sato so far --- mostly basic but delicious recipes, and one super fluffy angel food cake recipe! The lessons aren’t really for him --- they’re for Eri. He remembers the look on her face when he gave her the candy apples he’d made, how excited and happy she’d been. He wants to keep that smile on her face, and knows she’s a fan of sweets, so why not learn how to make them?

JIROU

Izuku’s not much of a big music listener --- he’ll listen to music but he isn’t crazy about artists or bands like most of his classmates. But that’s slowly changing. He likes to listen to Jirou talk about her favorite bands and songs because of how passionate she is about them. It reminds him of how he is with his hero adoration (not!! obsession!!!) and how much it means to him when people listen to his long rambles. Plus, he really truly enjoys listening to new music with her, and will often work out or run with  the song suggestions she gives him playing on his phone.

YAOYOROZU

izuku’s unofficial study buddy! well ... study ... rival? he and momo are the two who raise their hands in class the most, and izuku admires momo for her tenacity and intelligence and skill as much as he strives to be the first one with his hand up and the right answer. whenever he has trouble with a reading or studying, he’ll go to momo for help, and will sometimes attend her study sessions to help out with the others too. a lot of the time, he talks with her on the couch, getting deep into conversation about academic topics or listening eagerly to scientific facts she’s learned while mastering her quirk and asking a lot of questions.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Light was what destroyed Griffin and Valtor's relationship but she needs to find some more of that if she wants to survive the darkness he left in her soul.

16 - daybreak

Night was the time when witches were at their best, when their spells were strongest and they made their moves, when the darkness wasn’t just inside them but everywhere around them as well and the light coming from the moon was only a warped reflection of the sun rays that didn’t have enough strength to chase away the shadows and they swallowed everything, deciding on a whim whether to spit it back out in the morning or not. Night had been their time as well, when they’d been together and it had been just the two of them, no missions and dangers, no ambitions and goals, and nothing to keep their attention off each other, their passion for each other running free and unrestricted as it only could in the darkness where it was kept safe. So it had been logical for their love to fall apart during the day.

She’d loved the quiet of the mornings when she’d always been the first to wake and she could look at Valtor who’d still been asleep next to her in her bed. Or it had been her who’d been in his bed – it had depended on the perspective. Either way, it had never been their bed. It just hadn’t been meant to be. And Griffin suspected that somewhere deep down she’d always known that. Still, she’d loved to watch him while he slept. It had been the only time she could see the real him. In the day he’d been wearing the veneer of arrogance like a second skin, and at night she’d been too busy exploring his body and enjoying his touch on her skin for her to care about anything else. But when he’d been asleep and the early rays of sunlight had softly caressed his face, she’d been given the opportunity to see through him.

He looked like an angel, and held the soul of a demon, a beast, a monster. And it had scared her as much as it had excited her, for she knew how to deal with monsters, but she’d had no clue how to stop herself from falling in the inviting embrace of the angel. And in the hesitant light of the dawn everything had seemed softer, kinder, friendlier. It had seemed like they could have been happy. And she’d wanted to freeze the sun in that moment because the bright light of the day revealed all the ugly parts that had simply looked mysterious and tempting at daybreak. And how could her light be the source of the strongest darkness in the universe?

It had hurt to accept it, to leave him and betray not only him but herself as well. But really, it was her own damn fault. He might have been made from the Dragon Fire but he’d never been meant to be on the side of light, and she’d known that. He was darkness powered by the strongest source pf magic, the darkness that could snuff out all the light, and she had to stop him. She had to find another source of light for herself to chase away Valtor’s shadows from her soul. So she’d decided to take the hand Faragonda had offered her and join the Company of Light. Maybe that could restore the balance in her soul.

Griffin is studying some books in her quest to track down the Coven and Valtor when Faragonda interferes and learns something she didn’t know about her friend. Could be considered a sequel to “What is the One Thing That Can Never Break?” but can be understood on its own as well.

I’ve had this idea since my birthday so... for three and a half months. I did manage to write it at last though.

44 - study

“Why are you still awake?” Faragonda’s voice startled her.

She’d been so concentrated on studying the maps that she hadn’t heard her approach even in the dead silence of the library in the middle of the night. It was just proof that her work was too important and she couldn’t abandon it in favor of sleep. They had a hot trail on the Coven and it was their first real chance in weeks to actually turn things around. It would be a crime to let that opportunity slip through their fingers, and while she hadn’t protested when everyone else had gone to bed, she’d stayed up to work. Somebody had to.

“I’m not done here,” Griffin said, making her voice cold so that Faragonda would get the message. She wasn’t joking around. She wouldn’t let anyone pull her away from her work right now when she was on the cusp of finding them, of finding him.

“Step away from the books,” Faragonda’s tone was just as grave, making the temperature in the room rise as the atmosphere became tense with the intent they were both putting in their respective stances on the matter. There was no room to breathe as their silent battle of wills gained speed, both of them not moving a muscle in their refusal to budge.

It was the wave of energy that spilled from Faragonda that made Griffin look at her to see the serious expression on her face as the magic flowed from her, both light and dark. It was untypical of Faragonda to let the side of her powers that fed from the negative emotions at play and Griffin wasn’t exactly certain what her friend was hoping to accomplish. If the fairy was trying to convey to her that her actions were hurting her enough to power her dark magic, then it was a waste of time. She wouldn’t let even that deter her from her task.

“Griffin, I am serious,” Faragonda said when Griffin turned back to her books. “You need to go to bed and I will make sure that happens no matter what,” she said, more magic spilling from her in support of her words and it finally dawned on Griffin what was going on in Faragonda’s head.

“You won’t fight me in the library,” she said as she turned to look at her friend, the smile on her face more intended to hide her hurt rather than to express smugness over calling Faragonda’s bluff. It wounded her that Faragonda would try to manipulate her like that, and her heart quivered in fear for a moment as the thought of all of it being an illusion of Lysslis’ crossed her mind but she shrugged it off. She knew Faragonda’s magical signature. It was her friend who was trying to manipulate her. And she had yet to decide whether that was better or worse.

“Oh, yes, I will,” Faragonda said, her body shining as she transformed in her Enchantix to prove her words, the light blinding and painful, and not just because Griffin had spent hours staring at endless strings of words in different languages as she was hunting for the Coven.

“So you’ll fight me–in the library–even though you think I’m too exhausted to be reading?” she asked, no fake smiles this time, just the genuine disbelief in her eyes as she tried to show Faragonda that it was madness. That whole conversation was insane. They were supposed to be friends, not fight each other–in the library–when she was only trying to help.

“If that will convince you to get some rest, then yes,” Faragonda said, her own voice carrying hints of desperation as her eyes begged Griffin to just listen to her and make things easier for both of them. It wasn’t in her power, though, and the energy coming off of Faragonda was only tugging at her own feelings, pulling them to come forward and power her magic to put a stop to this before anyone could get hurt.

She let them out, let them flow and seek out the energy hidden in her, merge with it and power it for her purposes. There was too much hurt and resentment and despair for her to contain them if she wanted her trick to be efficient but there were also the good things. Her love for Faragonda that would never let her hurt her, the gratefulness for having such a devoted friend even when they disagreed, and her desire to protect all the books from any possible damage this argument could have on them. She couldn’t let that burn – all the magic, and beauty, and knowledge. It would be a sin.

It all flowed together and closed around Faragonda, weaving a silvery sphere around her that held her trapped so that they would all be safe, so that no one would get hurt. Griffin had had too much of that, too much of hurting and getting hurt. She had no more strength to go through more of that. She would break too much, more than she already had, and that scared her more with the possibility of it going on rather than with the possibility of it ending when she tired out and was so crushed that there wasn’t even dust left. It was more terrifying to think that it wouldn’t stop even then, that the relentless conflict inside her that kept breaking her apart would go on even when she was just the stardust left after the star had died and its existence was long forgotten.

Faragonda tried everything to break free from her magical prison but none of her tricks worked, even though they had been almost equally powerful the last time they’d sparred together. It had been long ago, though, when they’d still been studying magic in a carefully controlled environment and not in the realities of the war, and Griffin had never suspected she could do the magic she was currently performing. And it had changed.

“How is this possible?” Faragonda asked when she tried to use her fairy dust to escape but it had no effect whatsoever. “How can you be maintaining this level of magical concentration for so long?” she looked at Griffin, leaving the fairy dust alone now that it had proven useless.

“There’s just enough light magic in this to withstand your fairy dust,” Griffin explained as she basked in the feeling of the positive emotions running through her and making her sphere unbreakable. It was proof that she could do something other than destroying and she could keep it up forever. She wanted to. “I can explain if you’re ready to stop this fight and listen?” she offered even though she wasn’t tired and didn’t want to end the connection between her feelings and her magic that made them both much more distinguished and intense than they were when separated. But she didn’t want to physically be in a fight with Faragonda. It was one of her biggest nightmares.

Faragonda nodded calmly and had her winx vanish, leaving her in her normal clothes and as her usual self, as Griffin's best friend that wasn’t trying to fight her when everyone else was, as the warm presence she could always count on when the fissures inside her filled with too much cold.

Griffin slowly let the feelings fade, causing the sphere to do the same and let Faragonda out so that she could join her as she sat down. Probably for the first time in the last two hours. And now that her resolve when it came to the whole situation with Faragonda was more or less put to rest, her energy drained out of her slowly but surely, letting the exhaustion seep in. Though, that could be caused by what they had yet to discuss.

“What we study in Cloud Tower and Alfea respectively is not all there is when it comes to magic,” she said, her gaze on the books in front of her to occupy the part of her mind that wasn’t captured by her explanation but was rather prompted by it to wander back in memories instead. “The schools teach a more clinical approach to magic which is probably a good idea when you have young and inexperienced magic users on your hands, but it leaves so much potential unexplored.” She took a breath, preparing to dive into the topic truly. “We’re taught that magic is a tool and that it needs to be controlled when you use it but that puts a divide between you and your magic that renders you unable to use your full potential.” She chanced a glance at Faragonda to find her listening carefully and if she was drawing any side conclusions, it didn’t show on her face. Griffin’s own thoughts were scattering now that her whole attention wasn’t occupied, though. “We’re taught to look at magic as something that stands beneath us and not as something that stands next to us, inside us, and is a part of us.” You can’t just do magic, you are magic. “When you really connect with your feelings and let them flow without holding them back, they can power your magic with unlimited power,” she said, her voice shakier now as all her strength was going in just getting the words out, and she hadn’t noticed when her vision had filled with tears as her eyes had been busy watching the memories play out in her head.

“Griffin,” Faragonda called, her voice quiet and full of understanding now, asking to stand next to Griffin and not against her as she understood Griffin needed support since rest wasn’t an option currently, and the warmth that washed over her was a shocking contrast to the cold that had lived inside her for so long now. It had her tremble and that, in turn, forced the tears to spill, which also dragged out the sobs in an avalanche of feelings she’d been doing her best to hide ever since she’d arrived and joined the Company. Ever since she’d left him.

Griffin nearly threw herself at Faragonda’s open and welcoming arms, clutching hard at her because she was one of the only two things that she knew for sure. “I have to find him,” she choked out. She had to see him. She had to stop him. But before that she had to see him.

[tobythewise]

Jimon in omegaverse? Omega!Jace please :D

Hello lovely anon! I hope you enjoy. If you’re not really into mpreg I’m sorry! Feel free to send another ask and I’ll be happy to write you something without it!

Warnings for mpreg, omega Jace, alpha Simon, knotting, bottom Jace and top Simon 

Simon walks into the apartment he shares with his mate, taking his jacket off as he goes. He follows his nose until he finds Jace in their bedroom. He’s wearing one of Simon’s tshirts as he throws random blankets and clothes onto their bed. 

“Jace?”

Jace freezes. He turns slowly, his eyes wide like he’s been caught doing something terrible when in reality, nesting is something Simon expects, especially since Jace is in his third trimester. Simon’s shirt is stretched to its limit around Jace’s round belly. He looks perfect. 

“What’s going on?”

Jace finally moves, tossing another one of Simon’s shirts onto the bed before walking over to Simon. He kisses Simon’s cheek before letting out a sigh. “Today was a bad day.”

“Do you wanna tell me about it?”

Jace nods before leaning his forehead against Simon’s shoulder. Simon’s hands come up to Jace’s hair, running through the long strands. He smiles as Jace slowly begins to lose some of his tension, his scent mellowing out. 

“I’m so fucking sick of desk duty. I tried to get Alec to spar with me but he wouldn’t.”

“Of course he wouldn’t spare with you. You’re pregnant, Jace.”

“You think I’m not aware! I’m the one carrying this baby around, Simon.”

Simon’s arms run up and down Jace’s back, trying to soothe him. “And you’re doing such a good job, Sweetheart.”

Jace groans in frustration. “You’re damn right I am. But that doesn’t help how fucking frustrated I am! I have all this energy that I need to work off but no one will fight me!”

Simon smiles, his chest doing a funny little flutter. Somehow, he falls more and more in love with this omega every single day. If someone had told Simon he’d be mated to someone like Jace even a year ago, he would have laughed in their face. From the outside they shouldn’t work. They’re too different. Yet, somehow they just fit. 

Simon will always be thankful for that fateful night. Their story might not be romantic or swoon worthy but it’s theirs. A one night stand turned into an unplanned pregnancy somehow turned into reluctant dating that merged into something beautiful. Simon loves Jace more than anything and wouldn’t change anything. 

“You know,” Simon murmurs, leaning back so he can look at Jace’s face. “There are other ways to burn off that energy.”

Jace’s face suddenly relaxes, a smirk playing at his lips. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Simon hums before burying his face against Jace’s throat. His nose runs along his scent gland, greedily taking in the scent of Jace, loving how it suddenly spikes with arousal. His lips find Jace’s mating bite, kissing the place his teeth left permanent indents. 

“Simon,” Jace whispers, his voice already sounding breathy with lust. Simon licks across Jace’s throat before nipping at his ear lobe. Jace pushes Simon away and he staggers back, breathing heavily. Simon raises his brow and Jace curses. “Naked. Now.”

Simon rushes to get his clothes off, watching as his omega does the same. They scramble and almost trip a few times but soon enough, Jace is stalking towards him, both completely bare. The glint in Jace’s eyes has Simon’s cock twitching, desire pulsing through his veins. 

What Simon isn’t expecting is for Jace to shove him onto the bed with enough force to make him bounce before climbing onto Simon’s lap. Their hard dicks rub against each other as Jace holds Simon down, moving his hips to tease and torment Simon. 

“Oh god,” Simon gasps out when Jace’s tongue finds his throat. He begins to bite and nip at the skin, worrying it with his teeth, all the while his hips just keep on moving. 

Simon’s hands finally move. He finds Jace’s hips, digging his fingers into Jace’s skin before one hands moves further back. Jace shudders at the first feel of Simon’s fingers. 

As Simon’s finger finds Jace’s hole, Jace takes Simon’s lips in a fierce kiss. Simon moans from the dual sensation of finding his omega so wet and from Jace plunging his tongue into Simon’s mouth. Their tongues run against each other, Jace’s taste flooding Simon’s senses. His finger rubs circles around Jace’s hole, teasing him until Jace pushes back, forcing the finger inside. 

“Fuck,” Jace hisses as he rides his hips back, fucking himself on Simon’s finger. 

Simon loves it when Jace gets like this, chasing his pleasure, using Simon’s body as he sees fit, so lost in it all that he has no worries, no frustrations. He’s beautiful. Jace moans as a second finger is added, scissoring him open. Simon’s fingers are completely covered in slick with how wet his omega is, how turned on Jace is. 

Jace grips both of Simon’s wrists, pulling them away from his body and holding them over Simon’s head. “Enough. I’m ready and fuck, do I need it.”

“Then take it,” Simon says, leaning up enough to place open mouth kisses across Jace’s throat. 

With one hand holding Simon’s wrists against the mattress, Jace uses his other hand to line Simon up before slowly sinking down. He takes all of Simon’s cock without any teasing until his ass is against Simon’s pelvis. Jace throws his head back, tilted up towards the ceiling as he slowly swivels his hips, getting used to the intrusion. 

From Simon’s position, he can see the long line of Jace’s throat, his gorgeously tight chest, and his perfect, rough belly. Simon’s hands itch to touch where his baby is growing, making his mate radiant and glowing, despite what Jace says. 

“Yes. Fuck,” Jace murmurs under his breath as he begins to move, riding Simon’s dick as he sees fit. 

“Jace,” Simon whines as Jace continues to hold him down. “Please.”

Jace smirks down at Simon, his eyes shining omega gold. His fingers tighten around his wrists to the point that Simon’s sure there will be bruises later. It only makes Simon more turned on, his dick throbbing where it’s buried inside of Jace. 

Jace rides him until he’s panting, sweat dripping down his forehead and chest. He lets out a long groan before pulling off of Simon’s cock and flopping onto the bed on his side, his back to Simon. “I’m tired,” he murmurs. “You do the work.”

Simon turns onto his side, spooning up behind Jace. He eases his cock into Jace’s ass, rotating his hips and teasing his omega. When Jace whines, thrusting his hips back, Simon begins to fuck into him with long, hard thrusts, just the way Jace loves. 

Simon’s arms wraps around Jace’s middle, his hand landing on Jace’s large belly. He rubs his hand over the bump, his inner alpha roaring with dominance over being the one to do this, to have claimed his omega so thoroughly. 

“Fuck, Simon,” Jace moans as Simon’s hips pick up speed, the sound of their hips colliding resounding through the room. His hand moves lower, taking Jace’s erection into his palm, stroking him in time with his thrusts. 

“I love you,” Simon gasps out against the back of Jace’s neck. “I love you so much. My beautiful omega.”

“God, Simon,” Jace gets out, his ass tightening around Simon’s cock, his knot beginning to form at the base. “I love you, too. My fucking,” he says between pants, “idiot alpha. Love you. Now fucking knot me.”

Simon smiles against the back of Jace’s neck. Jace will always be bossy and sassy and Simon wouldn’t have it any other way. His knot continues to grow, stretching Jace’s ass wider with every thrust. His omega moans, begging for it, wanting to be tied together. It only takes a few more thrusts until he shoves all the way in, his knot growing too big to pull out. He grinds his hips just right to have Jace squeezing down, milking Simon’s orgasm right out of him. 

“Fuck,” Simon calls out as he comes, filling Jace with his seed and biting down on Jace’s neck. Jace whimpers as his own dick twitches in Simon’s hand, becoming impossibly harder before he finds his own release. 

Simon moans as Jace’s ass throbs around his knot, milking a second orgasm from him. Once he’s calmed enough, Simon lets go of Jace’s cock, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking the cum from his hand. 

Jace groans. “Don’t do that! I’m finally beat and ready to sleep. I don’t need to get frustrated again.”

Simon runs a soothing hand up Jace’s side before kissing his neck. “I’m sorry, angel.”

Jace hums contently, happy to snuggle into his pillows now that he’s got Simon’s knot tying them together. He’ll never admit it but he always sleeps better like this and who’s Simon to deny his omega anything. 

“I love you,” Simon whispers against Jace’s nape. 

“Love you too, Sunshine. Thanks for putting up with my crazy.”

“I’m glad you’re finally able to admit that, Jace. They say admittance is the first step.” Simon grunts as an elbow connects with his ribs. “I’m kidding. I can’t imagine sharing my life with anyone else.”

“Me neither, idiot.”

“Now go to sleep. Once you get a good night’s sleep you can go apologize to Alec for trying to fight him. Again.”

Jace grumbles around a yawn. “Fine. But I’d like it to be noted that I’m doing it against my will.”

“Yes, Dear.” Simon rolls his eyes as he tightens his arms around his omega, one hand resting against his belly. As sleep claims him, Simon wonders how he got so fucking lucky.

[xathia-89]

Head Canons: Warlords as teachers

Nobunaga Oda

“No, you’re doing it wrong,” I knew that Nobunaga meant well, but his bluntness was irritating me. I didn’t have a graceful bone in my body, but here he was teaching me dancing after a recent visit from a noble’s daughter. I couldn’t coordinate any of my limbs, but my boyfriend refused to give up. “Again,” he curtly instructed.

“No,” I stubbornly replied. “I’ve had enough for today.”

“Again, and I will make it worth your time,” his wine-red eyes stared me down, a heavily suggestive glimmer in them as his face remained straight and tapped my fan with his.

“Once more,” I grumbled, taking my position up.

His body ghosted mine as he firmly corrected my mistakes physically. He was strict in his orders and there was nothing nice to say, but I wasn’t under any illusions about what needed working on. Though I still didn’t think it was worth trying to teach me dancing, I was as graceless as Mitsuhide.

Hideyoshi Toyotomi

I had to hold my laughter in. Our son was constantly running after his dad around Azuchi and had picked up many of my husband’s habits. Now they were currently at loggerheads because Hideyori wanted to do everything his adored father did, but he simply didn’t know how to do it right.

“Let’s move this out of the way before you lose your precious tea set,” I teased Hideyoshi and made the man jump since he had clearly forgotten I was there. “And let’s not have any Mitsunari incidents, yes?” I asked brightly.

Hideyoshi frowned as I sat opposite them with a smile. Then he patiently decided to go through the steps of the ceremony, showing Hideyori the preciousness and delicate scenario that was being upheld. He would never let Hideyori have a go with this set, but I was already sourcing a new set for our son to practise with in private.

Masamune Date

I’d been desperately trying to surprise my other half for weeks now. But something always happened to keep me from doing anything in the kitchen undisturbed, and this was the furthest I’d managed to get. I had been a fairly good cook in the future, but I wasn’t used to the current range of ingredients available. My usual dishes were a few centuries away at least, as I tucked in to have a go at making copies of the usual delicacies that Masamune served up without a thought.

“Kitten?” I froze as I looked over the state of the kitchen and heard my other half’s footsteps quickly approaching. Then a stifled laughter as I hung my head, I’d been caught in the act. “So, just what were you trying?” He chuckled.

“To make a mess apparently,” I sighed in defeat. “I was trying to see about replicating any of the dishes I’m used to, but we’re a couple of centuries off the main ingredients,” I grumbled.

“Right, cooking lesson Masamune Date style coming straight up once we’ve cleaned this mess up,” he chortled broadly.

“Masamune Date style means your hands all over me and me not being able to think straight,” I snorted in response as we gathered everything together.

Much to my surprise, it was more about guiding my hands and talking low in my ear. He wouldn’t tell me the next step, he’d ask, see what I’d go to do and then correct me or steer me elsewhere. Then I smiled as I looked at the finished product.

“Not as pretty as yours, but if it’s all edible then it’s good,” I smiled.

“If you wanted lessons kitten then you just needed to say,” he grinned, kissing me briefly.

“You’d never focus on the actual lesson if I asked outright,” I pointed out, leaning back in his arms.

Ieyasu Tokugawa

Ieyasu was never going to go easy on me for any lesson. He was a ‘stick without a carrot’ kind of teacher as I tried pulling the string back for what felt like the millionth time just this afternoon. I was working on my strength, but this was just plain torture at times it felt like.

The bow was heavy and the string was taught beyond belief. But giving up now would just prove Ieyasu right about me being too weak, and that was never going to happen.

The arrow twanged widely off course, and I missed the target by miles as my teacher scoffed at me yet again.

“Feel free to give up at any point,” he blatantly stated.

“Never,” I chirped brightly. I couldn’t let him see the cracks to exploit, I was determined to get this right as my stance was corrected once more by the irritable man.

Mitsunari Ishida

Mitsunari always insisted that I sit in his lap, my fingers trailing over the paper and characters in front of us as his head leant gently against mine. His fingers would guide me, letting me lead on what I knew and to challenge me quietly on those I wasn’t certain on. His patience was boundless when I was frustrated easily.

“I’ll reward you tonight, for doing so well in your lessons,” his voice was pure innocence, but I recognised that tone instantly and sat up a little straighter in his lap with a blush on my cheeks. “But I won’t if you don’t calm down, shall we start again?” He murmured straight down my ear.

Mitsuhide Akechi

A gust of breath down my ear was trying to distract me as I kept my sights and the gun lined up. It was a heavy weapon, but I needed to learn to protect myself in this era. Mitsuhide liked having someone to play with in the subtlest of ways, a touch of my ear, twirling with a lock of my hair or correcting my stance without warning.

I felt like reminding him on occasions I was carrying a fully loaded weapon.

Then he would always reward me when I least expected it.

I had shot the target through the heart area from a considerable distance without any adjustments from the touchy snake. A kiss ghosted my cheek before I could realise what had happened, and I flushed bright red in front of my ‘classmate’ Ieyasu, who immediately scoffed and told us to get a room.

Kenshin Uesugi

“No, absolutely not,” Kenshin was steadfast in his refusal, not that it was going to deter me as I chased him around the castle.

“Why aren’t going to teach me how to defend myself?” I argued.

“Because what if I hurt you?” Uesugi replied, staring me down with his steady gaze. “I’m not chancing it.”

“I already know medicine, and you agreed to teach me once I’d learnt that,” I rebutted. “Don’t make me get the ninja involved,” I threatened.

“I’m not getting involved,” Sasuke muttered and went to disappear into the ceiling.

“Then I’m cutting off all the sake,” I boldly stated.

“My dear little Goddess,” Kenshin smiled. “I will simply override you.”

“Not if you don’t know where they are,” I smirked.

“Fine,” he caved in.

It was with wooden swords, which almost no one could believe with Kenshin. I didn’t want to learn to fight for any other sake than to allow me to protect myself and stop anyone running off with me as per usual. All of the vassals, aides and soldiers were also cleared out from the training room, Sasuke was there to supervise as he stood on standby with all of my prepared medicines for any injuries.

“No, your footwork is all wrong,” he strictly kicked my feet out from under me to show that my balance wasn’t central.

“Stop looking down at your feet,” he barked.

“You haven’t got the strength to try and just block,” he instructed, pushing me down easily. “If you haven’t got it then you can’t use it.”

“I’m just going to ask Sasuke next time,” I pretended to pout as I got back up onto my feet for what felt like the millionth time.

“Please, anyone else would be killed for teaching you,” Kenshin frowned, and then his body was framing mine. My breath hitched in my throat before I realised that he was doing it for a reason. “You’re not as tall or strong as most people you’re going to come up against,” he explained, “So you need to counteract it, you’re small enough to duck and dive,” as he fixed me into a restraining hold. “Try and get out of this,” he smiled.

It was a while before he let me go, and I hadn’t been able to squirm out of his grasp. I was starting to feel like pouting.

“Don’t try and fight clean, stoop yourself to dirty tactics,” Kenshin kissed me on the forehead. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Shingen Takeda

“Shingen!” I gasped as he grinned wildly at me. He was meant to be teaching me woodcarving, but all it was turning into was a chance for him to tease me it felt like. “There are far too many sharp tools about for this,” I laughed.

“You look so cute when you’re busy concentrating on what I’m doing that I can’t resist you, my angel,” he crooned. “Your hands are so steady and you do everything in such a tidy manner I can’t resist.”

“Well, learn to resist, or I’m going to start doing this without you,” I threatened.

“That’s a low blow,” to see a great warlord pouting was a great thing, and it always felt like I was the only one able to make him do it.

“Yes, but I want to learn how to do this,” I laughed. “So show me again, please,” I grinned, watching carefully as Shingen picked the tools up to work on his own piece of wood.

Yukimura Sanada

“That is definitely not how you do that,” Yuki was gawping at me as I held the sword in my hand.

“Then show me,” I had to bicker and pull for every little bit of the lesson.

“Well, you’re so short and weak, so what works for me won’t work for you,” he tried to argue.

“If you don’t teach me how to spar then I will get Shingen to do it,” I promised, watching his emotions play out at the thought of his Lord being in such close proximity chances to a woman. “Now, let’s go through the whole practice and we adjust what we need to.”

He grumbled and had me move my hands on the handle of the training sword before coming in for the attack. He critiqued me constantly, pointing out where I was weak and telling me where to put my hands, feet and which way to even lean my body weight as we danced across the floor.

He was definitely holding back on his strength, he didn’t want to hurt me after all, but he kept a keen eye on what we were both doing to try and avoid me falling over. Not that it stopped him insulting me all the time as it naturally rolled off his tongue.

Sasuke Sarutobi

“No, you need to slow down,” I said, interrupting the tirade of information spilling out of Sasuke’s mouth. We were sat in his room at Kasugayama and I had stumbled on the topic of the wormholes that had brought us here together. I smiled gently at him. “Unfortunately, I’m a seamstress and fashion designer, I have no idea what you’re saying with words like ‘Godel spacetime’ or about spacetime having geometry?” I questioned.

It was adorable how passionate the usually stoic ninja acted when we started talking about such things. There was this light in his eyes that he couldn’t hide from anyone, and it endeared me to just see it. But he galavanted off very quickly and started talking many lessons ahead of my understanding.

“I’m sorry,” he looked so downhearted and crushed.

“Let’s just start from the beginning?” I asked again. “I have no idea what a wormhole is,” I grinned. “All I know is that it brought us together, and I’d love to be able to explain things to our children about how we met,” I was enticing a Sasuke.exe failure with the mention of our future together, but he resumed his explanations with paper and ink in front of us at a much slower pace.

[ijustwant2write]

The New Rule-Arthur Pendragon x Male!Reader

(GIF credit to @bradleyjamesjr)

Masterlist

Anonymous requested: ‘Could you do an Arthur pendragon/Male!reader where the reader is kind of anxious about anyone finding out and Arthur tries to calm him down? I wouldn’t have asked, it’s just that I can’t find any already written and your stuff is pretty good. Feel free to add to or tweak the story, of course.’

Characters: Arthur Pendragon x Male!Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name, (Y/L/N)= Your last name

Warnings: Homophobia, arguing, slight fluff, angst

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I knew it wasn’t normal in this society, I knew that it would never be accepted. But how was one supposed to ignore such strong feelings? Pretending to be someone else became exhausting, but I had to keep the act up, otherwise my life could be in danger. What was a man supposed to do when he loved the prince, and when the prince loved him back? Nothing apparently.

“Come on, (Y/L/N)! Your attacks are weak today, you need to try harder!” Leon shouted over the noise of our swords clashing.

Frustrated, I pulled back, stopping to catch my breath. This was the only way I could let out any anger that had built up in me, but right now my mind wasn’t in the right place for sparring. 

“That’s enough for today, don’t you think?” I huffed, sticking the sword into the ground.

“What is wrong with you today (Y/L/N)? You seem to get more miserable by the day.”

“Well aren’t you just sweet? I’m fine, just not been feeling well as of late.”

“Have you seen Gaius, perhaps he can help you?”

“I will not bother him with a mere headache, Leon. He has more important things to attend to.”

“A knight of Camelot should never face illness, we all have duties to uphold.”

“I know. Speaking of, we really must get ready for our meeting with Arthur, I feel as if something is wrong.”

Relieved to be finished with Leon, I made my squire tidy up after me, hoping to catch the prince before our meeting. We needed to talk...well I needed to speak with him at least. This secrecy had been going on for too long, and for some reason I was beginning to grow tired of it. Where were we going to go from here? He was the prince, he had duties to uphold and laws to keep in place; couldn’t really go round and break his own rules now could he?

I had been born and raised in Camelot, along with many generations of my family. It was good here, we were well off, with good ties to the royal family, especially when I became a knight. We were invited to every event, every royal ceremony; Arthur and I became good friends over the years, until he had to start learning about how to be a king. But growing up. I always felt slightly different form the other boys we played with. 

We were always told stories of princes rescuing damsels in distress, trailing foreign, barren lands full of monsters, and that their reward was always a kiss. The boys always seemed to love this, liking the fact that the girls gave them all their attention, especially when we were learning to fight. What with Arthur being future king of Camelot, it made him extremely popular in that area, girls lusting over him as I tried to spend time with him; they always seemed to annoy me, though I had no clue as to why. Perhaps it was because my mother had droned on and on about me someday marrying a woman of high society, meaning that I was constantly reminded of that when girls came near me....no I knew that wasn’t the answer. Deep down my true thoughts were desperate to tell the truth, reveal my biggest, and darkest secret that could turn my whole life upside down. But I never have, not to anyone but Arthur that is.

Arthur was my friend, we knew everything about each other, practically spending every moment together. He was so kind, so brave, so confident in himself (nothing like his father, thank god), he was everything I had ever looked for in a person. Somehow we just clicked. And it was not just I that wanted to be around him all the time, I soon found out he felt the same. We both knew it was wrong, both had moments we doubted that we could ever be together, but we always pulled each other through in the end, somehow able to hide it away from the world. However, Arthur’s days of being the prince were coming to a fast end, he was soon to be king and would be in the limelight a lot more as soon as that crown was placed upon his head. 

As I entered the throne room, I started rambling, knowing that it would be just Arthur there,“Arthur, I was hoping that I would catch you first, I must...oh I’m sorry for interrupting sire.” 

I quickly composed myself as I realised that Arthur was in the company of a young woman. Her hair reached down past her waist in tiny ringlets, almost hiding the similar tiny waist of hers, but accentuating the colour of her dress that seemed to pool around her feet; as she turned to face me, I marveled at her angelic face, the soft, delicate features being illuminated by the rays of light coming through the windows. She was beautiful, and I already had an idea as to why she was here.

The other knights swiftly joined us, also being stunned by her beauty. She didn’t seem phased as we looked over her, holding her posture and regal attitude once Arthur started speaking.

“Gentlemen, thank you for joining me. I understand that you have a busy schedule but this too is important.” He held a hand out to the woman, gesturing for her to step forward.“This is Evelyn, the princess of Ardenia. Evelyn, I give you the knights of Camelot.”

Respectively we knelt down on one knee, bowing our heads before we were instructed to rise. My heart started to beat fast, just like it had when Arthur and I shared our first kiss; but that was a thrilling sensation, this just wanted to make me sick.

“It is an honour to meet the noble knights I have heard such wondrous stories about.” It was as if she was singing, everything about this woman was perfect.

“Ardenia and Camelot have been dealing with trades alone, but after seeing the fall of our trades recently, we have decided to combine our forces.”

No, this wasn’t happening. It was all a bad dream, karma for having too many pints with Gwaine in the tavern.

“After much consideration form both of our fathers, they have come to the conclusion that we are to be wed.”

There it was.

My whole world, my dreams, my hopes, crushed by that one sentence. They were going to be married and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I stood tall, breathing in and out deeply quietly, hoping no one noticed as I tried to keep composed. Arthur wouldn’t even look at me, we couldn’t risk falling apart.

“Besides the council, my father and obviously Evelyn’s own father and council, you are the only ones to know of this. That is because we must journey to Ardenia to escort Evelyn’s father back to Camelot.”

Evelyn spoke up, a smile on her face as she did so.“I’m afraid my father is very paranoid. He sent some of our best knights to accompany me on the journey, thus leaving him without his men by his side. It’s just a precaution.”

“Merlin, please would you escort Evelyn to her chambers, we must start debriefing.”

Merlin did as he was told, guiding Evelyn out of the room. As she floated past the knights, I could see that they were all in a trance, gazing after her as they closely watched her every move. My eyes remained on Arthur, who finally looked at me. His expression was blank, he was hiding what he truly felt, a skill he was all too good at.

“Sire, are you sure you need all of us to go with you?” Gwaine started, slightly smirking.“I just think the princess could do with some better protection.”

“I think Evelyn will be just fine.” Arthur quipped back.“All of you gather round the table, we have much to discuss.”

I was glad when the meeting was over, it had gone by way too slowly for my liking. Arthur ignored me the whole time, acting very stern and blunt when explaining his plans. Once Arthur dismissed everyone, I heard their mumbles, blaming Arthur’s mood on the fact that he was now stuck in an arranged marriage; if only it were so simple.

“Arthur,” I called his name as the doors shut,“why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“What was I supposed to say? It all happened so fast, I had to agree!”

“Did you? Did you really have to agree to it?”

“Yes! Our father’s arranged it, it’s for the good of the people.”

“I can’t stand by and watch you be with another, even if you aren’t in love with her. All this time we have had to hide, how will we do that when you have a wife?”

Arthur sighed, taking fast steps towards me. I let him hold my hands, squeezing them ever so slightly as he tried to think of his next words.

“We’ve talked about these things before. We both knew that it would happen.”

“You’re going to deny what we have? Our love for each other will just be thrown away as if it is some rubbish?”

“No! No, I would never think nor do that. (Y/N), for now I don’t know what we’ll do but we’ll figure out something, I promise.”

“Kiss me? We have’t been this close and alone for a long time.”

For the first time that day, we both smiled as we leaned in to kiss, having to make it brief in case we were walked in on; though it was enough for now, the future for us was uncertain. 

When dawn broke, the journey to Ardenia was commencing. We were all checking over our supplies, ensuring we had everything we would need for any scenario. I endured the knights talk of Evelyn, everyone so amazed by her as a whole person. The kingdom seemed to love her already, excited for their new addition the royal family; if things were different, that would be me.

“Arthur.” Evelyn called out as she stood on the steps, capturing the attention of those around her.

He climbed up the steps to her, making it seem as if she were taller. I watched with envy as she placed a hand upon his cheek, obviously thankful that he was helping her family. I really shouldn’t have held anything against her, all that she had done was be a part of a political movement, she too had no choice in the matter. 

“Does the princess happen to have a sister? Or perhaps an equally lovely lady in waiting?” Gwaine pestered Arthur as we entered the forest on horseback. 

“No Gwaine, there is no one that would be slightly interested in you.” Arthur nonchalantly replied.

“You’ll really have it all once you marry her. A beautiful wife, a throne, a whole kingdom.” Percival sighed.

“(Y/N), you’ve been awfully quiet. Finally realised that the princess wasn’t for you?” Leon teased.

I was in no mood for that.“Surprisingly, I seem to be the only one who’s head isn’t in the clouds.”

“Alright, no need to snap.” Gwaine intervened.“A man can dream right? Especially about Evelyn.”

I rolled my eyes, making my horse move faster so I passed them, ending up just behind Arthur as I slowed down. He quickly looked over his shoulder, having heard everything but choosing to ignore it. The journey was boring, no one spoke of anything other than Evelyn, and although I did not want to hate the poor, young woman, it was extremely hard not to. Once nightfall arrived, we made sure to set up camp, having only one more day to get to Ardenia. Sitting around the fire with our bowls of broth, my eyes drifting over to Arthur, who sat away from us, going over the map as if he didn’t already know where he was going. Picking up another bowl, I headed over to him, thankful the others didn’t watch or join us.

“You already know where you’re going. Stop worrying.” I smiled as I covered the map with the bowl.

Arthur let out a short, breathy laugh, swapping the map for the bowl as I sat beside him.“Thank you. (Y/N)...I just want ti apologise for the way I’ve acted recently. I haven’t been seeing you as much as I should have, I’ve been cold and horrible. Also I should have told you about Evelyn, perhaps we could have worked out a way to avoid it.”

“I accept your apology. As for Evelyn...well like you said before, it’s not like we could get out of you marrying a woman.”

“But what if there was? Maybe not now, but some time in the future where we could get married?”

“You would marry me?”

“Of course. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, why wouldn’t I?”

I was speechless. He was too pure at times, when he showed his true self it was the best version of him. Subtly, he slipped his hand into mine, making me flinch as my head darted back to the others, worried that they had seen it.

“Arthur, we shouldn’t risk it-”

“They can’t see us, don’t worry. Let me do this.”

Our moment was short lived as the others finished their meals, leaving the mess for Merlin to clean up. To not look suspicious, we joined the rest of the knights, finally able to drop our attitudes and have some fun before being serious the next day. There was still a slight nagging from my conscience, telling me that something needed to be done about Arthur and I, but i ignored it, not wanting to ruin such a moment.

We made it to Ardenia before noon the next day, and were greeted by a gracious king and his court. Being treated with such respect was always a good feeling, the others reveled in it, happy that we were given a proper meal and rest before we set off again.

As we dived into the luscious food, I noticed Arthur and the king leave, no doubt discussing the wedding. Now was my time.

All throughout the night, I had laid awake and thought of my future. It was time to stop daydreaming, try to plan the rest of my life, stop waiting around for Arthur. I would always love him, and because I did, I would never want to ruin his reputation; Arthur was going to be an amazing king, and I wouldn’t get in his way.

Getting ready to leave again, I approached Ardenia’s captain guard, bowing respectively.

“Can I help you Sir (Y/L/N)?” He asked.

“Yes actually. I was wondering if you were looking to have anymore knights in Ardenia?”

[hourglassmermaid]

or read chapter 4 on ao3

Alec can’t sleep. He hoped that after running across half the city, his bones would grow as heavy as his heart and sleep would come easy, but nothing ever goes how Alec wants. He tosses and turns all night, forcing himself not to think about Jace or his parents or the look on Magnus’ face when he reached out to Alec and Alec let him go — like a coward. Every time he feels himself slipping into unconsciousness, his stamina rune pulses, and it’s like he just drank 50 espresso shots simultaneously, and the torturous cycle repeats.

When 5:00 AM rolls around, Alec’s alarm blares to awaken him from a sleep he never experienced. Alec whacks his fist down to silence it, already showered and dressed, before heading out the door. He’s about half a block away from Starbucks when he realizes his glamour rune is active, so the barista won’t be able to see him.

“Dammit,” he swears, and a jogger removes her headphones and looks around, startled.

He scrubs over his face with his palm and makes his way back to the Institute. Izzy’s going to be testy without her pumpkin spice latte, but there’s nothing Alec can do to quiet his runes. He’s tried every trick he knows with his stele already.

Well, there is something Alec can do, but he’s not going there.  

He makes a pot of coffee in the Institute kitchen, even though he knows it won’t be as good as the Americano he was craving. He decides to try bribing Izzy with a cheese danish, but when he goes to grab the box from the top shelf, he overshoots and bumps his head on the ceiling, feeling a burst of energy at his agility rune.

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath, but the pain fades a moment later as his iratze rune soothes the ache. Alec narrows his eyes. He’s getting tired of this.

As the day goes on, Alec grows more and more frustrated. He sweats bullets under the thick layers of clothing he wears to try and hide his golden runes, because apparently even the New York weather patterns are conspiring against him today. But he can’t shed a single layer, can’t risk someone seeing. They’ll know immediately, and Alec won’t survive the questions. He’ll drown.

His eyes glaze over as he tries to concentrate on the page in front of him. He’s been reading and rereading the same paragraph for the last fifteen minutes and absorbing nothing. It might as well be a report on Jace streaking through the ops centre for all Alec knows.

He sighs and pushes away from his desk. He can’t sleep. He can’t focus. He might as well train with all of this nervous energy.

He changes into a pair of thick joggers and throws a bulky hoodie on over his layers, careful to keep his runes hidden beneath the fabric. He steps into the training room and hesitates in the doorway as he spots a familiar mop of golden hair on the sparring mat.

Jace lands blow after blow on the punching bag at the center of the room. He practices his left hook, even though his form has always been flawless. Normally, training with Jace is the best part of Alec’s day, but today he’d rather walk across a minefield than face him.

His eyes dart from Jace to the hallway and back to Jace. He hasn’t spotted Alec yet. Alec can still escape, try and avoid Jace for the rest of his life. It’s a solid option. Except it isn’t. Jace has to know something’s wrong. Their parabatai rune has been fucked up for hours, and Jace may be dense sometimes, but he’s not oblivious. He knows.

Alec bites at his lower lip, sucks in a breath, and clings to his fleeting bravery as he steps into the center of the room.

Jace jolts backwards when he finally spots Alec. “By the Angel, you scared me. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Alec grips at the soundless rune on his wrist through the cotton fabric of his sweatshirt. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to.”

Jace studies Alec’s face, eyes tracing over him. Alec’s heart hammers in his chest as if he were on a hunt, and he might as well be, given the circumstances. Alec avoids his gaze, too overwhelmed at being caught in Jace’s scrutiny.

After the longest beat in recorded history, Jace asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Alec lies, still not making eye contact.

“Are you sure?” There’s a concerned — instead of accusatory — lilt to his voice, which is far better than Alec hoped for. “Things got… weird last night.”

“You mean besides you almost breaking the Accords?” Alec tries for banter, for normalcy. The longer he can pretend the better.

Jace rolls his eyes, and relief washes over Alec at being released from his gaze. “You ran out on us last night, and then we couldn’t track you. We were worried about you. Did you activate your deflect rune or something?”

Alec instinctively grabs at the prominent rune on his neck, the sleeve of his sweatshirt sliding down as he shifts. Jace spots the golden light pouring from his skin. He stumbles backwards, pointing at Alec with his mouth agape. As soon as Alec realizes his mistake, he slaps his wrist to close the pocket. He grips his wrist so hard it starts to ache. Doesn’t matter, though. His iratze will kick in, in 3… 2… 1… and a second too early.

He’s too late. Jace has already noticed, and he won’t let it go.

“I want an answer, goddammit!” he says. “What the hell happened last night?”

Alec sighs. There’s no point in hiding anymore. He rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Fuck,” he hears Jace breathe.

Shimmering sunbeams stream from Alec’s runes, shooting out in all directions and colliding against the walls of the training room in a prism of light.

“I met my fated last night,” Alec says as if that weren’t obvious.

“I can see that,” Jace says. “Congrats, man. Who is sh— are they?” He’s quick to correct himself.

Alec rolls down his sleeves, smoothing out the fabric, and plops down on the floor. He’s not sure he can manage to say the words standing. “Magnus Bane.”

“Holy shit.” Jace runs his fingers through his hair and joins Alec on the floor. “Are you kidding me?”

“Do you honestly think I’d joke about something like this?”

When Alec was younger, his mom used to tell him and his siblings bedtime stories about how someday they’d meet their fated, the person handpicked for them by Raziel himself to be their perfect companion. Alec used to dream about meeting them — that perfect complement, his other half. He yearned for that partnership crafted from fate, balance, and a hint of magic.

All Alec’s ever wanted is for someone to love him as fiercely as he loves them.

As Alec grew older and started to have feelings, he started to doubt he even had a soulmate. Why would the Angel find someone for him when what he wanted deep in his heart was wrong?

He had all but given up hoping for a future that was never his, but then a boy waltzed into his life and helped with his archery and taught Alec to believe in himself. For a brief flicker, Alec entertained the idea that Jace might be his someone, but that light went out before it could consume.

Jace knows how important soulmates are to Alec. He’d never joke about this.

“I know,” Jace says. “But fuck, the High Warlock of Brooklyn? Nothing’s ever simple with you, man.”

Alec grimaces. That’s an understatement.

“What are you gonna do?” Jace asks, his voice softening to try and chisel away at Alec’s defenses.

“What can I do?”

Jace swallows hard, and Alec can hear his sharp intake of breath. “You know, you could go visit Magnus—”

Fiery anger twists in Alec’s gut like a vice grip. “How could you even suggest that? Do you have any idea what could happen to me if anyone found out? I could be deruned or—”

“So, what, you’re just gonna live like this forever? Hopped up on stamina and nourishment runes?” Jace gestures at Alec. “It’s almost 70 degrees out, and you look like you’re ready to go bobsledding.”

“It’s not my fault mundanes aren’t fixing global warming,” Alec grumbles. “And it’s not like I’m enjoying this. Every fucking second is like sensory overload, and I can’t make it stop.”  

Jace places a tentative hand on Alec’s shoulder, and Alec suppresses the urge to flinch away from his comfort. “But you can make it stop.”

“Are you not—”

Jace holds up a hand to silence Alec’s protests. “Just hear me out. You don’t need to marry the guy. Just slip over to his place, give him a quick kiss, and you’re free.” Alec opens his mouth to speak, but Jace plows on. “Just because you’re soulmates doesn’t mean you’re obligated to be together.”

Alec’s heard stories about people rejecting their soulmate. Finding them after all that searching only to turn them away like a spoiled child returning a Christmas gift.

Alec feels hollow. This is worse than not having a soulmate — knowing his fated lives and breathes and has a heart that beats in time with his but he can never have them.

He was right. The Angel is punishing him, but it’s so much worse than he imagined.  

“People fall in love with people other than their fated all the time,” Jace continues. “It can happen to you too. You don’t have to be with… Magnus.”

Alec doesn’t like the way Jace’s voice twists when he says Magnus’ name, like it’s a dirty word.

Alec chews on his lower lip, thinking, before he says, “I guess you’re right.”

Jace squeezes Alec’s shoulder. “I’m sorry it has to be this way, but you’ll find someone else. I’m sure of it.”

Alec doesn’t want to admit it, but he won’t, because he’s already found him, and he’s about to walk away.

Alec paces back in forth in front of Magnus’ apartment building. He digs his nails into his palms,  letting the subtle pain keep him from spinning completely out of control before his  rune soothes the ache. He sighs as he glances at his watch, plopping down onto the cool pavement below. He’s been waiting for over an hour, and the only thing he’s relieved is the cramp in his leg.

He gets up and buzzes Magnus’ apartment one last time before he decides that this was pointless and heads back to the Institute. Why he ever thought he could just show up at Magnus Bane’s doorstep unannounced is beyond him. He hears the screech of the ancient buzzer travel through the intercom system, but when he hasn’t been buzzed inside two minutes later, he finally accepts that Magnus isn’t home.

He picks his phone out of his pocket and starts texting Jace to let him know that this plan was a failure when he hears a harmony of laughter crescendo down the street. A woman’s voice blends with a man’s voice that forces Alec’s heart into a sprint. It’s the voice that has been playing in his head on repeat.

“I can’t believe you tipped the bartender $100 for two rounds of cocktails,” the female voice says, growing louder as they approach Magnus’ front steps.

Alec can see them now and panics. His eyes dart around his surroundings, seeking out hiding spaces, but then he remembers why he came and forces himself to project a courage he doesn’t feel an ounce of.

Magnus escorts a woman Alec doesn’t recognize down the street. He pats her arm gently. “She was a student. How else will she pay her rent?”

“You’re too much,” the woman says.

“Too much is my middle name,” Magnus responds with a wink then stops short. “Alexander.”  

Alec can’t breathe. He doesn’t know how Magnus knows his name, but he doesn’t care. He just knows that he never wants to stop hearing Magnus say it. Which is exactly why he has to end this before he makes a decision he can’t take back.

Alec swallows and tries to emulate all of the false confidence Jace is a master of parading around. “Magnus. Can we talk?”

Magnus and the woman he’s with exchange a look, and it appears as though they have a silent conversation. She raises her eyebrows and Magnus pulls a face. Alec gets the impression they’ve been friends for a long time.

“It’s getting late,” she says, “I better head home. Goodnight.”

Magnus says goodnight as she conjures a portal in the alley beside his building. The wind whips and cracks as it’s sucked into the swirling vortex until the portal closes with an abrupt snap, and Magnus and Alec are left in silence.

Alec captures Magnus’ gaze and stares into his brown eyes, but they’re not the same eyes he met at Pandemonium. They’re flatter somehow. No warmth. No depth. Synthetic almost. And Alec’s hit with the realization that they must be contacts, because Magnus is going through the exact same thing he is.

The thought comforts him. Magnus is probably just as eager to put a stop to this nonsense once and for all.

Magnus ushers Alec inside his apartment. They climb up a few flights of stairs, taking two steps at a time before arriving in front of an ornate set of double doors. Magnus tries unlocking them with a spark of blue magic, but the blast deflects and shatters an ornate vase down the hall. Magnus pinches the bridge of his nose before fumbling around in his pockets for a key and opening the door the mundane way.

He steps inside, keeping his back to Alec, and immediately sets off towards a drink cart on the other side of the room. The apartment is decorated as lavishly as Alec imagined based on the decor at Pandemonium, but it’s not overly flashy. It’s cozy. Homey. Alec shakes his head. Not his home, but somebody else’s. They really need to get this over with.

“What’s your poison? Gin? Vodka? The blood of fallen demons?” Magnus calls from across the room.

Alec laughs nervously and grips at the back of his neck. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Whiskey on the rocks it is.” Magnus gets to work pouring liquor and clinking glasses. “Make yourself at home.”

Alec takes a seat on the edge of couch. He starts to tug his jacket off but thinks better of it, shrugging it back into place. He won’t be here long.

Magnus hands a drink to Alec. Alec takes a sip and feels a shudder rip through his spine. He coughs as the burn of the alcohol courses through his sinuses. “This is stronger than the stuff they serve at the Institute Christmas party.”

Magnus nods. “That’s what happens when you drink straight liquor, darling.”

Magnus takes a sip of his drink without flinching, but Alec notices now that he’s shaking and the memory of Magnus’ broken voice calling out to him flashes in his mind’s eye.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Magnus asks.

Alec levels him with a look, and Magnus chuckles into his glass. “Fair enough.”

“I assume you’re having issues as well?”

“I almost charred a client this morning.”

“By accident?” Alec tries to be playful in his nervousness.

Magnus rolls his eyes. “By accident. I’d like to regain control of my magic before my practice’s reputation starts to suffer.”

“And I’d like to deactivate my runes before someone tells my mother, and she starts planning a wedding that won’t happen.”    

Alec winces, and he feels the room go both literally and figuratively colder. Magnus looks at him with a blank expression, considerably more steely than the easy banter they were falling into before Alec fucked it up, but it’s better this way. They can’t get attached.

“Right,” Magnus says, “let’s get this over with.”

Alec wipes his clammy hands on his jeans and tries to steady the drumming of his heart before it bursts from his chest. He crosses over to Magnus and hesitates. Magnus raises an eyebrow in challenge, and Alec takes the bait.

"This doesn't mean anything," Alec says before grabbing a fistful of Magnus' shirt and crashing their lips together.

A symphony of sensation explodes when their lips meet. The soft, addicting heat lights each of Alec's nerve endings on fire, simultaneously extinguishing each of his overactive runes in the sweetest mixture of relief and desire he’s ever felt.

Magnus’ lips are plush and warm and soft in all of the ways Alec imagined but also so much more. He melts into the kiss, losing himself in the feeling. Magnus tangles his fingers in Alec’s hair, urging them closer together and a shiver ripples down Alec’s spine. He parts his mouth, reveling in the wet, hot feeling of Magnus’ lips against his.

Magnus grazes his teeth against Alec’s lower lip, and Alec tries his best to suppress a groan from the back of his throat. Magnus’ body goes rigid, and he pushes Alec away suddenly.

Alec blinks back into reality and presses a finger to his lips when they part, the phantom touch of Magnus’ lips still igniting all of his senses.

“Get out,” Magnus says.

Alec yanks his hand down to his side. “What?”

Magnus snaps his fingers, and this time, his front door swings wide open. “My magic’s back to normal, and your runes have quieted down. You got what you came for, so get out.”

Alec nods before making his leave. He hovers in the doorway and takes a final glance at Magnus. He can’t suppress the feeling that he’s making a horrible mistake, but he still walks out the door.