#im doing a part two as soon as the mice leave my room and i can sit on my desk

[malboraslihan]

BEESH'S CINEMATIC UNIVERSE (part. 1) | @greatundoings

everyone, wake up and go wish happy birthday to my beautiful wife. as always, i hope today is the best day you have and that this new year can bring you the most amazing things in life. i'm so thankful for you, the amount of magic we've created together and every single universe we sink into every other day. i can not imagine someone i'd rather lose my sleep and talk my shit with, if not you. i love you the most and i wish you the best of birthdays.

[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. 

[bisexualsforprompto]

A Ladybug’s Revenge

This will most likely be a one shot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If Marinette had the words to describe the intense hate she felt when he walked into the room she would.

She might say that everytime he spoke to her, the acid dripping from his vile words made her dig her nails into her skin and grit her teeth.

Maybe she’d say that when he blamed her for something, not being on his moral compass it made her pray for release.

Or she could say that the very way he held himself, the very way he stayed out of conversations made him look timid, but how could a timid coward of a pacifist make her feel like she wanted to throw up and shove him out of a window at the same time?

Everything she felt about Adrien Agreste made her feel so contradictory. She wanted him dead but at the same time she wished she was dead.

She wished she was dead so that she could show him that lies did hurt, that lies could kill.

She wished he was dead because everytime he stared at her and smiled she felt boiling hot rage course through her veins. Every single muscle tensed. Yet he didn’t care what he did to her, he only cared about his own selfish ideas.

Adrien might’ve preached taking the high road but he was a hypocrite, as low as they could get. He said he didn’t want Lila to be akumatized.

Marinette thought it admirable at first.

Then she found out.

As guardian Marinette had to know who Chat Noir was, so she asked Tikki for his identity. She couldn’t say she was surprised, but everything had truly clicked the moment she saw the blonde the next day.

He didn’t want Lila akumatized, he didn’t want her lies exposed, because he didn’t want to deal with the backlash.

Lila was a formidable foe, so by handing her every battle and all her enemies heads on a silver platter Adrien was able to keep himself from having to work too hard.

Because god forbid the model had to work for once in his life.

Marinette had seriously considered ending it all. One could say out of sheer spite. She wanted to see the look on his face when he found out she took her own life because of him. A beautiful revenge and it would ruin his life.

No more Ladybug to love, no more Marinette to be his friend, and a gigantic mess for him to solve...because Marinette would tell the class every single thing before she died.

She had written the letter outlining all the lies and giving all the evidence, she written every little thing her classmates did to her, she made sure Adrien had the longest section.

Harassing her when Marinette was Ladybug and standing idly by at her suffering when she was Marinette.

The letter had ended being almost five pages.

But Marinette burned it. She wasn’t taking her life.

For one, she wasn’t the problem and two, if she were dead she would never see the look on Adrien’s face or anyone’s for that matter when the truth came out.

She still had many who stood beside her.

She had her parents, she had Kagami, Alya and Luka, and she had the kwamis.

She had a duty to protect the people she loved, the city she loved, even if there were those in it who she didn’t.

But most of all she had a plan.

The night she decided to put her plan into action she told her parents everything. Ladybug, the Lila situation, everything that Adrien, Chat Noir, had done.

Tom was furious and Sabine was even more so. Marinette had called Kagami, Luka and Alya to her house. The six of them, plus the kwamis when Marinette introduced the miracle box were ready to work.

Marinette knew since Adrien was Chat Noir he couldn’t be Hawkmoth, but after consulting the kwamis Gabriel Agreste was back on the table.

Her parents, Luka, Kagami, Alya and she mapped out every akuma occurrence, besides the Collector incident he was nowhere to be found every single time. They scoured every single footage from attacks, no Gabriel.

Until they found traffic camera footage, apparently Kagami had picked up hacking as a hobby when she wasn’t busy with fencing. It was foolish for Gabriel Agreste to mutter to himself after the Animistro was defeated, they heard every word. And that was all the confirmation Marinette needed.

Kagami had wielded the mouse miraculous, Luka the snake, and Sabine the turtle. Kagami had hacked into the Agreste’s security feed so Tom was there lookout. Alya waited on a rooftop nearby the Agreste mansion waiting for her task, the most important one.

In the dead of night the four miraculous wielders snuck into the Agreste manor.

They found Gabriel Agreste sleeping, hunched over in his office. Luka activated his second chance and Kagami used her multitude.

The small Kagami mice had run over to Gabriel on his desk and took his brooch off him without alerting the man.

At the same time Marinette and Sabine had gone upstairs to Adrien’s room.

Ladybug pulled off his ring in his slumber and right after it was fully in her grasp Adrien woke up.

Sabrine used her shelter around the boy, creating a force field he couldn’t get out of.

“Adrien Agreste, I hereby relinquish you of the black cat miraculous, and deem you unfit to ever wield any miraculous again.” Marinette spoke steadily as Adrien banged against the protection around him.

Marinette grabbed her mother and swung her yo-yo out of Adrien’s window. She dropped in front of the manor in a Spider-Man like fashion. Kagami and Luka ran outside to her.

“It took a few second chances but-“

Kagami shoved Hawkmoth’s miraculous to Marinette.

“Good. Now one last thing…” Marinette leaped onto a nearby building, the others following her soon after. They began working on the most important part of the plan…

Adrien Agreste couldn’t believe his eyes. In huge bold print on the Ladyblog read “Ladybug reveals identity after Hawkmoth’s defeat, watch the whole video to help Ladybug get justice.”

Adrien shakily pressed play, his lady had taken away his miraculous but maybe he could still make her his, the first step would be finding her identity.

“Hello Paris,” Ladybug begun with a stone cold look gracing her face, “You know me best as Ladybug, but underneath the mask I am not as strong.” The bluenette sucked in a breath, “I have been harassed by my ex partner Chat Noir and his civilian identity as well. In addition I have been a victim of relentless bullying at my school, this involves a liar, Adrien Agreste, yes the model, and the rest of my class. I am not telling you this so that you take matters into your own hands,” Ladybug said as she stared at the camera dead on. “I am telling you this because I need my class to know lies do hurt, you all know and trust me as Ladybug, but my civilian identity is considered to be a bully. I’m here to disprove that.” Ladybug sighed before whispering, “Spots off.” A blinding pink light surrounded her.

Adrien’s bugaboo was there no longer, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was staring in front of him. “I, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, was Ladybug. Revealing my identity was the only way to get everything to end. Some of you will be happy to know,” Marinette growled, “That you made me want to kill myself.” Adrien winced. “I wanted to die because of the people in Paris. But that doesn’t matter anymore.” Marinette gave a shy smile, “I am here to tell you that because Hawkmoth is defeated I will no longer be Paris’s saviour.”

Adrien gasped. Marinette was abandoning Paris? Didn’t she remember what he said about the high road?

“I have experienced physical torment and emotional abuse from school. The old Chat Noir was sexually harassing me on the job and to top it all off one man knew all about this and did absolutely nothing. The man who used to be Chat Noir, Adrien Agreste.

“Adrien, if you’re watching this I need you to know: I am not your Lady. I am not anybody’s. I also want you to know that if you try to find me you will not succeed. I am leaving France and nobody will ever see me again. I won’t tell you where I’m going, but I will tell you why...Adrien Agreste, Lila Rossi, Gabriel Agreste, and Caline Bustier, you are the reason that Ladybug will no longer stay in Paris.” Adrien’s eyes widened, it couldn’t be true…

“This is Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, signing off. Bug out.”

The feed stopped. Adrien threw his phone on the ground, leaving it shattered as he stomped out of his room. He refused to believe it.

Gabriel Agreste had to admit he was bested, but there were two things Ladybug or Miss Dupain-Cheng forgot. One was the peacock miraculous that he had just fixed and the second was the crucial fact that he always got what he wanted. No matter what the cost.

Marinette stared out the window feeling her shoulders relax as the cab passed a dismal grey sign. She sighed and smiled, feeling a new beam of hope shine into her life. She read the sign and began to dream of her class’s faces when they watched the video, she then pushed it away, ready to start her new life,

“Welcome to Gotham.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ngl, I have no idea what this was it was going somewhere and then my brain went FUCK IM TIRED, I am so sleep deprived and I wasn’t planning on writing anything this weekend but here we are posting this weird ass salt fic that I wrote in a night and am definitely going to regret tomorrow...YOLO.

(This wasn’t really Maribat but it was kind of I guess) Tag list:

@northernbluetongue

@queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm

@luciferge

@legendaryneckjudgestudent

@interobanginyourmom

@beaversuenightly

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry

@mochinek0

@shamefullove

@emjrabbitwolf

@actual-disaster-human

@littleredrobinhoodlum

@elijahcoser

@daminett4life

@18-fandoms-unite-08

@kawaiigiantjudgefish

[mnthpprt]

Chapter 17: The Sound Of Friction

“Where should I put this?” I ask Sebastian. 

During the ride back to the mansion, I explained the ordeal at the coffee house and told him how Arthur had helped me. He was less than impressed, promptly declaring that he would find another vendor of the product that does not display such unacceptable behaviour. I told him how I had met Shakespeare and been invited to a ball, and he said he would let le Comte know so he can get me a proper evening dress.

Upon arriving, I started helped him organize the shopping, which I am still doing now. This sack of flour is the last of it, it seems.

“Up there in the pantry. Make sure it’s high so mice can’t get to it,” he instructs. When I open the cabinet door, he immediately corrects me. “No, no, the other one! To your left.”

I have to climb on a stool in order to push the heavy sack into the shelf. Just when I am about to close the cabinet, I spot a jar of cocoa powder and grab it before jumping down onto the floor.

“I’m making hot chocolate,” I announce. “Would you like some, Seb?”

“No thanks, I still have a lot to do.” He hands me a small pot as I gather the rest of the ingredients, which is easy now that I am better acquainted with their location in the kitchen. “You know who would love some? Mozart. He practically lives off that stuff,” he says. “Now that I think of it, it’s almost his feeding time. Would you mind taking him a bottle of blanc with it?”

“Gotcha.” I haven’t seen the musician since I arrived here, though I know he has not left the mansion because I keep hearing him play. I wouldn’t mind seeing the famous music room for myself, especially given the fact that I have nothing else to do for the rest of the day.

Sebastian leaves to do laundry, leaving me to prepare the hot chocolate. When I finish, I pour it into two cups, and put them both on a tray, along with a bottle of blanc I find on a shelf.

I knock on the door to the music room only for it to open upon my touch. I could swear I just heard Mozart playing as I walked down the hallway, but now he is nowhere to be seen. Taken over by curiosity, I set down the tray on a small side table and slowly approach the piano. It is the most beautiful instrument I have ever seen, pure white and pristine like its owner. Before I know it, my hands are running along its smooth edge. I can’t help but sit on the bench when I spot the music sheet resting above the keys, and with unsure hands, I try to play what little I can decipher.

“Do not touch my piano!” Mozart must have heard me from wherever he was, because barely a few seconds after I played the first note, he barges into the room, frantically barking for me to step away from his precious instrument.

“I’m sorry, you were gone, and-”

“I don’t care,” he rudely interrupts me. “I do not want your filthy hands anywhere near any of my instruments, or my sheet music, or anything at all, for that matter. I knew you would be a bother the moment you stepped into this house.”

My eyes narrow in indignation. Had he been nicer, I would have apologized and vowed to never touch his belongings again, but he’s acting like I chose to be here. Like my sole purpose in life is to be a nuisance. Naturally, this just makes me want to annoy him more, and I know just the way to do it.

I turn back to the piano and, before he has time to protest again, my hands begin gliding over the keys, forming a melody he will surely recognize as his own. The tempo is slightly off, and my fingers slip on a few notes due to the lack of practice, but this is undoubtedly an arrangement of Leck mich im Arcsh. I taught myself how to play this canon in B-flat major when I was a teenager, for no other reason than the fact that I found it hilarious when I learned of it existence. Thank you for the laughs, Mozart, but you can kiss my ass.

To my surprise, he has grown quiet. I stop playing and glance at him over my shoulder only to see a puzzled expression on his face, accompanied by what looks like the faintest hint of a smile. Am I hallucinating right now?

“I am surprised you know that,” he states. His voice is devoid of all trace of emotion, which is quickly disappearing from his face as well. I simply shrug.

“Serves you right for being a mean, stuck up prick,” I say nonchalantly as I get up. “Anyway, I brought you this. You’re welcome.” I reach for the bottle of blanc I was meant to deliver and hand it to him.

“Blanc? No way I am drinking this garbage,” he exclaims, disgusted. Seriously, somebody needs to teach this man some manners.

“Okay, then.” I pick up the tray with the hot drinks still on it and make my way to the door. “No chocolate for you.”

Mozart’s eyes widen at the mention of the sweet drink, and I watch him reluctantly open the bottle and take a sip. The childish resignation on his face makes me laugh, but as promised, I turn around and return the tray to the table, before grabbing my own cup and sitting on the single armchair next to it. He quickly downs the blanc and exchanges the empty bottle for the hot chocolate.

“It’s... good,” he says after trying it. I suppose that is the closest I’ll get to a “thank you” from him.

“Uh-huh. Sebastian told me you liked it, so I made you some, because I am a nice person who doesn’t deserve to be yelled at like that.” I raise my eyebrows and proceed to punctuate that statement by sipping my chocolate, but I almost spit it out when he speaks again.

“Your playing was awful.”

He is not exactly wrong, but I casually give him the middle finger. I doubt he knows what it means, because he briefly looks at me and completely ignores the obscene gesture before sitting on the piano bench. He begins playing the exact same melody, and I am not sure if it’s his way of telling me to fuck off of if he just wants to show me how it’s done properly. Either way, he makes it sound incredibly and ironically beautiful, and I soon find myself enjoying just watching him play.

Halfway through the canon, he seamlessly changes to a new melody, one I have never heard before. It could be one of his lesser known pieces, but seeing the neatly stacked papers on every flat surface I am inclined to believe it is a new composition. 

I relax into the plush comfort of the armchair and close my eyes. I think Mozart has already forgotten I am there, but I don’t mind in the slightest. I enjoy listening to his music, and I am happy to find out my presence does not bother him as much as he led me to believe.

Eventually, someone knocks on the door. It is hard to tell how long I’ve stayed in this position, but it has been a good while since I finished my chocolate. Mozart stops playing and gets up to open.

“Sorry to interrupt, Wolf, but-” Jean’s eye lands on me, lounging in the back. I raise my eyebrow at the nickname, but I guess it makes sense that those two are friends. I can picture them being quietly judgemental together. “Anaïs. You’re here too,” he softly states, surprised. I smile and give him a little wave. “Le Comte wants to see you both.”

Mozart and I look at each other. I assume he is as intrigued as I am, although his face is completely expressionless, unlike my own. He silently nods and exits the room with Jean. I follow, and we part ways with the soldier to walk to le Comte’s study.

The door is open when we arrive, clearly awaiting us. I sit across from le Comte’s desk, and Mozart stands beside me. The nobleman acknowledges us with a solemn nod and a smile full of old world charm.

“Anaïs,” he finally speaks. “Sebastian tells me you have been invited to a ball, correct?” I nod. I wonder what this has to do with Mozart. “It is my understanding that Mozart here will be performing at the same event. He needs a suitable companion for someone of his status, and I think you would be perfect for the occasion, ma chérie.”

Well, that explains it. And I do not like it one bit. Mozart and I exchange another look, his face mirroring the indignation on my own this time. He opens his mouth to protest, but is cut off by le Comte.

“You both need companions for the same ball, yes? This is the best solution to this problem. Any reasonable adult could see that.” His tone is almost fatherly, full of gentle authority. Damnit, I can’t say no to him. I sigh, defeated by the way he looks at me.

“Ugh, fine! I’ll do it,” I give in. “But only because I intended to go anyway.”

Mozart takes longer to answer, but eventually cracks too.

“Remember our deal, Comte. You owe me. And you,” he turns to me, “you better learn how to dance properly. I will not be humiliated by my companion’s lack of etiquette.” There it is. That stupid mean attitude of his. I was beginning to wonder where it went.

I roll my eyes, and he purposefully storms off. With Mozart gone, I turn to le Comte, and give him a pleading look that practically says “why are you doing this to me?”.

“Well, that was disappointing. And terribly awkward, you know he is not the easiest person to get along with.”

“Forgive me, ma chérie,” le Comte laughs. “You two arrived together. Were you having an argument?”

“Something like that,” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I touched his piano.”

“Oh my. I am glad to see you made it out alive and well, in that case,” he jokes. “You know, I had to bribe him with a new bench just for him to agree to perform. The host of the ball is a dear friend of mine, and he has been begging me to invite Mozart on his behalf ever since he heard one of his new pieces. Of course, he knows him by a different name.”

That explains the mention of their deal. In the few days I have been here, I have not seen Mozart so much as step outside of his room, so it does not surprise me that he needs to be bribed in order to leave the mansion at all.

“Speaking of friends,” I change the topic, “Sebastian must have told you I met Shakespeare today. Did something happen between you two?”

“Well...” le Comte begins, leaning back into his chair. “We have our differences, but I am his sire, after all, and I care for him dearly. He simply decided he did not wish to live here anymore, so now he has his own house in the outskirts of Paris,” he explains. “Vincent visits him quite frequently. They are good friends.”

Of course Vincent would be the one to befriend the playwright. Much like the sunflowers he paints, that man is the physical embodiment of a ray of sunshine.

“Back to the ball, however... I must get you a gown fit for a princess, ma chérie. Do you have a particular style in mind?” he inquires.

“I trust your good taste, Comte,” I shake my head with a smile, but I perk up as something occurs to me. “Actually, there is something...” I unbutton the cuff of my sleeve and roll it up as far as I can, exposing the tattoos that litter my pale skin. “Anything that can cover these. They go pretty high up, so sleeves and gloves, maybe? I am not very familiar with the evening fashion of this time.”

Le Comte’s eyes widen at the sight of the dark ink on my arm, reminding me that he had not seen them until now, not to this extent. To be fair, the sleeves of my chemise covered most of them when he assisted with tying my corset.

“Gloves will do just perfectly,” he declares. “The very long ones are quite the trend with the ladies, nowadays.” 

“Great.” I roll my sleeve back down, and catch him staring intently. The way he watches me is reverent, rather than uncomfortable. I can tell he is simply admiring the tattoos, but he refrains from voicing his curiosity, I presume to avoid being indiscrete. “Thank you, Comte.”

“It is my pleasure, ma chérie,” he smiles.

Before I leave, I stop to look at the large hourglass in the corner. The pile of sand at the bottom has become the slightest bit taller since I arrived, but most of it remains the same, what looks like an eternity resting on the top portion of the glass, barely trickling down.

[quickeningheart]

Eighteen

   Charley draped her arms over the back of the sofa, sipping her coffee as she watched her cousin race back and forth, preparing for her first day of school. Vinnie sat beside her on the couch, and Modo and Throttle were in the kitchen, taking surreptitious glances around the doorway as they cleaned up the breakfast dishes. All three mice seemed completely mystified by Alley’s behavior.

    When she headed down the hall, abruptly stopped halfway, and turned around to make a beeline back to her bedroom, Charley couldn’t take it anymore.

    “Alley. Alley!”

    The frazzled blonde screeched to a halt, looking over her shoulder with wide eyes. “What?”

    “Will you please relax?” Charley held up her mug with a grin. “You’re makin’ my coffee very nervous.”

    Alley blinked, then broke into a sheepish grin of her own. “Sorry. It’s just … I’m nervous. And excited. And nervous.”

    “What’s the big deal?” Vinnie scoffed. “It’s just school. Ain’t that a normal thing around here?”

    “It’s not just school. It’s college. It’s like … like jumping from the little leagues straight into the big ones!” Alley protested.

    “That’s right, boys. Our little Alley has to put on her big girl panties now. She’s playin’ with the grownups,” Charley teased.

    “You, shush!”

    A pair of balled-up socks was launched her way, almost landing in the mug. Charley managed to catch them without spilling too much coffee, and tossed them back. “And why are you taking an extra pair of socks?” she asked curiously.

    Alley blinked down at them, then threw her arms into the air. “I don’t know!” she wailed as she stomped back to her room.

    Charley leaned her forehead against the couch and laughed.

    “Is she gonna be okay?” Modo asked with amused concern.

    “Don’t worry, big guy. First day jitters.” She offered a reassuring grin. “We all got ‘em. College is kind of a big deal, and I think her parents are expecting a lot from her, especially her mom.”

    “Did you attend college?” Throttle wanted to know.

    “Hmmm.” She finished off her coffee; Vinnie instantly got to his feet to fetch her a refill, and she offered a grateful smile along with the mug. “Sort of,” she replied to Throttle’s question. “I graduated high school a few years ahead of everyone else my age, and I took some courses at a local technical school, just to supplement my knowledge and get an official business degree. I’ve always known what I wanted to do, though, and I already had the work experience, thanks to my dad and uncle. So I never felt the need for the whole college thing like Alley’s doing. Still, I do know how it feels, moving out on your own for the first time and all. It is exciting, and kinda scary. Nobody’s there to hold your hand anymore, ya know?”

    “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll always hold your hand when ya need it.” Vinnie plopped down beside her, handing her the mug and taking her free hand to press a soft kiss into her palm. His red eyes glowed with impish humor as she blushed at his charming actions. Throttle and Modo looked at each other knowingly and grinned.

    Alley made a reappearance, dragging a large, rolling backpack behind her that looked a bit like a miniature, bag-shaped version of her van. She set the gaudy pack by the stairway.

    “Are you bringing your entire library?” Charley asked, amused.

    “They’re my textbooks. And my computer.”

    “Do you need all the books? That’s a lot of extra weight to drag around. What classes do you have today?”

    “Lessee … Schedule…” Alley frowned. “Schedule…?” She patted herself down, eyes widening. “Schedule!” She turned on her heel and made a mad dash for her room, much to the amusement of her audience.

    “Girl’s gonna give herself a stroke before she makes it out the door,” Throttle observed with a chuckle, shaking his head.

    She reappeared with a thick yellow envelope and her phone. “I need a favor. Can someone take my picture? Mom demands pictures of my first day. I’ll never hear the end of it if she doesn’t get any.” She offered the phone with a pleading expression.

    Laughing, Charley held out her hand, but Throttle intercepted. “Stand with her. I’ll take one of you together,” he said.

    “Great idea!” Alley grabbed her cousin by the arm and hauled her to the bare wall. “Say cheese!” she teased, giggling at Vinnie’s snort.

    Charley stood stiffly and managed an awkward smile, clearly not used to being in front of a camera. Alley, on the other hand, snapped off a playful pose, flashing a double thumbs-up with a brilliant grin, hamming it up with practiced ease. The flash went off, and she relaxed, accepting the phone from Throttle. “Thanks!” She studied at the picture. “Hey, this thing has a great camera. Charley, why do you look constipated?”

    “Oh, shut up.” The mechanic laughed as she delivered a playful shove.

    “Is someone honking outside?” Modo rumbled, head cocking to the side as he listened. They fell silent, and in another moment, the faint sound of a car horn drifted in through the open window.

    “Oh! That must be Chex.” Alley slipped the phone into her pocket. “She’s giving me a ride to the campus today since we have some of the same classes.”

    “Not Chris?” Charley slid her a coy glance.

    “I think he would’ve, except Chex beat him to it,” Alley replied with a laugh, hoisting the heavy bag onto her shoulder.

    “That was nice of her.”

    “Nah. She only offered ‘cause she’s hoping I’ll convince one of you guys to give her a ride on your bikes.”

    They all stared at her. She flashed a hopeful grin. “Just one? Doesn’t have to be far. Around the block, even. Oh, and when I say ‘one of you’, I’m pretty sure she means you, specifically.” She turned her smile on Modo, who straightened at the sudden attention.

    “Why me?” he asked, confused.

    “Oh, I dunno. Maybe ‘cause you saved her life? And she’s got a serious case of hero-worship as a result?”

    He looked flustered as Throttle and Vinnie snickered behind his back. “I’ll, uh, think about it.”

    The horn sounded again, sounding even more impatient. “Alright, I’m comin’!” Alley huffed to no one in particular as she bounded down the stairs.

    The four of them stared after her for a moment, before Charley sniggered. “So,” she began amicably, “bets on how long it takes her to figure out she’s not wearing shoes?

     ~*~*~*~*~

    “You’re such a blonde,” Chex snorted as Alley slid into the passenger seat of the little, silver-blue Accent (after scrambling back up the stairs to retrieve her shoes amid hoots of laughter from the peanut gallery).

    “Yeah, yeah. Just drive,” she grumbled, hauling her heavy pack into the car with her. “Sweet little ride, by the way. I sorta figured you'd drive up in a hearse or something.”

    “Don't I wish.” Chex pulled a face. “The step monster gave it to me. Said I needed a reliable car that’s good on gas mileage.”

    “She gave you a car?”

    “Yeah, she’s the type who likes to buy her way into the hearts of children.” Chex sniggered. “Hey, a free car is a free car. I just make sure I park it way back so people don’t see me in it. It totally does not fit my image.” She was silent a few minutes, before sliding Alley a sideways glance. “Sooooo … did you ask ‘im?”

    Alley laughed. “He said he’d think about it. Keep badgering him; I think you’re wearing him down. He's not the type to turn down a lady's request.”

    “Sweet.”

    “Oh, yeah! I almost forgot. Since we were speaking of step monsters, Chris said yours works a lot with jewelry appraising and stuff. Do you think she could help me and Charley out? We got some antique jewelry and loose gems and wanted to try and sell ‘em, but we need to know the value and find buyers and stuff.”

    “Yeah? What do you got?”

    Alley opened the front pocket of her bag, withdrawing the sapphire and diamond necklace Stoker had left behind. “Here’s an example.”

    Chex’s eyes widened as she took a good look; quickly turned her attention back to the road when someone honked loudly. “Holy shit, is that thing real?”

    “As far as I know.”

    “Where’d you get it?”

    “It was a gift from Stoker.”

    “Some gift! And you say there's more?”

    “Yeah. I guess precious gems and stuff aren't worth much to the mice. Stoker got what he needed from 'em—like the gold and most of the diamonds—and handed the rest over. Good thing, too, 'cause Charley could really use the money they'd bring in.”

    “She in trouble or something?”

    “Or something. Can't really talk about it. But do you think your step-mom could help out?”

    “Yeah, sure.” Chex shrugged. “I guess you can try and arrange a meeting with Victoria. I’ll give you the number to her office and tell Chris to let her know you’ll be calling. She'd probably be more open to helping if the request comes from him. She doesn't like most of my friends.”

    Alley didn't quite know what to say to that. “Well, thanks, that’ll be really helpful. I'm sure Charley and the guys'll be grateful, too.”

    “Cool. Think it’ll earn me some points toward scoring a ride?”

    Alley laughed and rolled her eyes.

     ~*~*~*~*~

    Chex showed Alley the most direct way to get to the main campus through Chicago, warning her to leave at least two hours ahead of time to avoid any potential delays such as mid-town traffic jams. Most of the professors did not take kindly to tardy students, and wouldn't let her into the class if she arrived late, no matter what sort of excuse she had. Luckily, they had no such issues and made it to the campus with plenty of time to spare. They parted ways in the parking lot with promises to meet for lunch, as their first classes were in different buildings. Alley used the opportunity to give herself another lightning tour of the campus; now that the maps had all been switched back to their proper places, it was much easier to figure out where she was. She also made a mental note to check out the secondary campus in the middle of the city, where her first business classes would be held the following day.

    However, it shortly became apparent that she wouldn't be taking those business courses any time soon. Or any of her other courses, for that matter. No sooner had she signed in on the roster and chosen a seat, the young student assistant taking attendance called her back to the desk.

    "Sorry, Miss Davidson, but your name isn't on my list," he began, his bored tone suggesting that this wasn't the first time he'd had to make this announcement to a new pupil. "This is Music Composition 101. Check your schedule."

    Alley clenched her teeth, annoyed by the insinuation that she'd gone to the wrong class. "No need. I know my schedule," she replied with as much politeness as she could muster. No need to take it out on him; he was just doing his job, after all, and she didn't doubt he'd already had to send other students on their way to the correct classrooms. But she wasn't one of them, darn it!

    At his obvious skepticism, she pulled the thick envelope from her bag and riffled until she found her schedule, handing it over with pursed lips. "Right there.” She tapped the page. “Music Composition at ten o'clock. Room 317."

    He glanced over it, handed it back with a shrug. "Must be a scheduling error. You'll have to take it up with the office." He went back to his roster, a clear dismissal.

    She stared at him. "What, you mean … now? But class is about to start!"

    He shrugged again. "Sorry, but the rules are if you're not on the roster, you can't attend the class. Better get it figured out and make sure there aren't any other conflicts." Seeing her expression, he softened. "Look, Professor MacDougall is running late today. Her kid has an ear infection or something and her nanny just quit on her. I'm taking over for her until she can get here. The class lasts two hours. You can probably get it sorted in more than enough time. Come back with a note from the office, and I'll let you sit in the remaining time. If Professor MacD shows up, I'll explain the situation."

    "Yeah, okay. I'll do that." Alley wasn't very happy with the solution, but at least he was trying to help. She hoisted her heavy bag and started for the office, grumbling to herself. What a way to start off her college career!

     ~*~*~*~*~

    "What do you mean my scholarship's been revoked?"

    Alley gaped at the secretary, wondering if she'd started hallucinating for some reason. Delayed effects of Stoker's miracle cure, by chance? She would skin that mouse alive when she saw him again!

    The secretary—Her name was Mary, Alley recalled—was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, tapping away at the computer and nervously adjusting her wire-framed glasses. "Um, you see, there has been some discrepancy with your SAT scores—"

    "What kind of discrepancy?" Alley growled. "I passed those tests with more than enough points to earn my scholarship! I studied my ass off to get those scores!"

    "Please lower your voice, Miss Davidson." Looking distressed, Mary adjusted her glasses again. "You see, I am very sorry, but there appears to be some … concern over how you … acquired your high scores."

    Alley's eyes narrowed. "I. Studied."

    "Are you certain that is the only way you passed?"

    She felt like she'd just been kicked in the gut. "Are you actually accusing me of cheating?"

    Mary cleared her throat. "Please, lower your voice," she repeated, more firmly. "The fact is, through most of your academic history, your scores have always been … less than spectacular." She adjusted her glasses yet again; Alley was sorely tempted to rip them off her face and stomp on them. "Yet you managed to pass your SATs with scores that put you within the top fifteen percent of the entire country. That is no simple feat. You must realize how … suspicious it all looks."

    "Slacking off does not make me a cheater," Alley hissed. "I was just lazy. I never cheated on anything in my life! And I'll have you know that in my last two years, I completely turned it around, got As and Bs in all of my classes. Or does that not count for anything?"

    Mary pursed her lips, then calmly swiveled her computer monitor until it faced Alley. Puzzled, she gave it a cursory glance. And then her jaw dropped as what she was seeing registered.

    It was her permanent school record. Only it wasn't. All four of her high school years were displayed clearly on the screen, except that for two of them, the high scores that should have been there seemed to have been replaced with grades that could only be described as abysmal. Even her art and writing classes—her favorite subjects in school—barely covered passing ground.

    "Are you kidding me?" she screeched, ignoring the secretary's glare. "With scores like that I wouldn't have even passed high school, much less made it into college!"

    "Yes, that is exactly my point," Mary replied primly.

    Alley massaged her temple, where a headache was steadily forming. "And you seem to be completely missing mine," she growled. "Those are not my grades. I've been … set up or something!"

    "Why would anyone set you up?" The secretary looked more than a little skeptical.

    "I don't know!" Alley threw her hands into the air. "Maybe some bored student decided to play a mean prank and picked me at random. It happens, right? That thing with the maps? And it's not like computers can't be hacked or anything!"

    "Our system security is top-notch. Not just anyone can break into it." Mary looked offended at the very suggestion; Alley decided that mentioning how easily her cousin could probably break in wouldn't really help her case at the moment.

    "Then it's some bizarre glitch in the system," she muttered, struggling to think of any answer. "I took those tests a year ago. If I'd really cheated, wouldn't someone have figured it out way before now? I mean, I was in here with the dean's kids last week filling out forms! Remember? Why didn't you bring up this situation then? It sure would've saved me a lot of hassle now."

    Finally, a hint of doubt in the secretary's eyes, before her expression firmed. "I am very sorry for all of this trouble, Miss Davidson. I promise I will look into the matter and see if it can be resolved in a satisfactory manner."

    "And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Can I go back to class?"

    "I'm sorry, but that just isn't possible at this time. As I said, your funding has been revoked. All of your classes have been canceled. Until this situation is resolved, policy states that you cannot attend this school."

    Alley started to panic. "But keeping my scholarship depends on me maintaining my grade point average! If I can't attend those classes, I'll flunk out by default, and I'll lose it all anyway, even if I manage to get it back! It could take weeks to get it all sorted. It'll all be for nothing!"

    Mary was sympathetic but unwavering. Alley realized she would be getting no more help out of her, turned and trudged from the office as the churning mass of dread, confusion, and defeat sat like a sick lump in her gut.

    All she could think of was how in the world she was ever going to explain this to her parents.

Next

[monberber]

Inaugural Ball

When a prince turns eighteen, there's just that _one_ occasion that everyone is excited for. It's the Inaugural Ball. It's where the prince is finally revealed, his face, height, everything. The whole nation celebrates, from toddlers to the adults, but the group of people who are most excited, are the teenage girls. They are the people who stand a chance with the prince. How? You ask. It's simple, actually. As long as you're eye catching in some way, and he chooses you, that's it. You're his but he's not yours. But once again, there are _thousands_ of girls, and who was he to choose you? Even if he did, you couldn't bother with all of that royalty drama. Overall, it's just a big fuss through and through. * The week of the Inaugural Ball rolls by and you groan. It's inevitable. In front of you stands your mother, picking out all sorts of gowns for you to wear. "Not this one mum. Please no." You groan. It's a bright pink dress. With a big, puffy bow to go along with it. You absolutely detest it. As soon as your eyes trail over it, you felt the burning desire to rip that hideous thing into shreds. After fervent protests, you clench your fists, and reluctantly head into the dressing room to change into the ugly piece of fabric. Once you've changed, you gaze at yourself in the mirror. It looked absolutely terrible. So you scamper out of the room. Your mother surveys you, before heading to pick out another gown. This time, she's a little bit better at it, picking a colour that brings out your eyes. It's a pretty azure blue, lined with diamonds that glisten under the light. You immediately decide to try it on. Now, you look at yourself in the mirror, twirling around in the beautiful blue dress. Without any hesitation whatsoever you pay for the dress, and step out of the shop with a megawatt smile. * The next few days were spent on plan: "Seduce the Prince." Of course, it was your overly hyper mother at it again. She claps excitedly. "Okay, so to seduce the prince, you have to be, sexy." You choke. "Mum!" "So you have to do something like this." She sticks out her tongue awkwardly and winks. You cringe. "Mum!" She chuckles. "Alright alright I'll leave you to your final preparations. The ball is tomorrow!" * You find yourself strutting around awkwardly, observing your surroundings. This was the second time you witnessed an Inaugural Ball. The first being when you were two, so you don't remember anything of it. It was a tradition to wear a mask, so that you wouldn't be judged for the different social classes you were in. No one would know who the prince was either. Until it hit midnight. According to your mother, everyone removes their masks then, and whoever the prince picks will be his princess. It sounded simple, fun and intriguing. Well, as long as you weren't the one ending up with the prince. As you continued to walk around, a tall, lanky man heads in your direction. With a twirl of his hands, he bows and you curtsy in return. "May I have a dance with you m'lady?" "We don't know each other yet. How would I know you aren't a creepy lad?" He chuckles. "My name's Hyungwon. Now you know me. May we have a dance now?" You take his hand. * He leads you to the ballroom, which is adorned with lights and banners, hanging from one side to the other. Your mouth hangs agape as you observe the thousands of commoners, all swaying to the beat with their partners. With your hands still clasped together, you head to the centre. You don't actually realise that you've been shaking this whole time, you haven't danced before whatsoever. "I can't dance." "It's easy, trust me. And I'll be here holding you, leading you along." There was something in his voice that enticed you. It caused a rippling of butterflies to set off in your stomach. He pulls you close to him and you gasp. Now, your hand rested against the shoulder while his wrapped around your waist. "I'll tell you what to do so don't worry. First, move to your left." You take a step to the left and brace yourself for the next part. He leans down and whispers for you to take a step back. A shiver travels down your spine when he gets closer, as it felt foreign to have a man this near you. You shrank back and trip over your leg due to your nervousness. Fortunately, Hyungwon quickly catches you. Heat crawled up your face almost instantly upon his actions and you pray he doesn't notice. But he does, and you mentally curse yourself for being this obvious. He brushes a strand of your hair away, just to tease you. You swore you heard him mutter an _I like you already_ under his breath. He couldn't be the prince, right? _I mean, the princes are usually ugly, aren't they? But he seems handsome._ Hyungwon roars with laughter. _Oh shit, I said that out loud_ "And that too." He replies, a teasing smile plastered on his face. As you continue to sway along to the music, he asks you to tell him more about yourself. "I'm Y/N, from the fifth district. I like animals and my hobby is to sing. Is that enough?" "Sure." "What about you?" "I'm Hyungwon, and I'm actually a prince." Your eyes widen. "No. You're joking." "Let's see then. At midnight." You feel a rush of trepidation and excitement. He _did_ seem like a prince, he _had_ the aura and you've never met him before. Unknowingly, you've grown attached to his personality in a few hours. Once he disappeared for a while, you felt empty. Like a puzzle. Like he was a part of you. But he wasn't, and you knew that as a truth. * A few more hours passed, and you couldn't find Hyungwon anymore. You had practically gone around the country, searching high and low for him. However on countless occasions you were stopped by men of all ages, trying to get to know you. You politely declined most of them and headed on your way. You grabbed a cup of champagne, downing it immediately. Dejectedly, you sat down by the side, hoping that he'll turn up. But he never did. Until then. This time, he was wearing something more sophisticated. A little more frill, a little more sparkle. If someone had told you he was the prince just now, you wouldn't have believed him, based on the way he was dressed. But if you were told the same thing at this point, you would. He smiles and walks toward you. "M'lady, it's nearing twelve. May I have a dance with you?" You grin and take his hand. * Everything happens at a certain moment. Cinderella's dress turns into rags, her carriage to a pumpkin and horses to mice at twelve. For you, the ball officially ends at twelve, with the prince finding his future wife. You find yourself standing in the center of the ballroom once again. This time, you're more aquainted with the moves, more in tune with the music. You dance, a little more gracefully this time. Before you two can continue with your sweet moments, the music pauses. As you've heard from you mother, it's the ten second countdown. The room yells. "Ten!" You look at each other. "Nine!" You let go of his shoulder. "Eight!" "Seven!" "Six!" "Five!" "Four!" "Three!" Your hand proceeds to move closer and closer to your mask. "Two!" You latch onto it. "One!" You rip it off. For a moment, you are stunned to see Hyungwon's face. He was _handsome_. You don't actually realise the presence of the blindingly bright light until he pulls you in. Hands cupping against your cheeks, eyes shut, lips pressing against yours. He drags his thumb over your face as you get more involved in the kiss. The crowd cheers and celebrates. Claps and cries resounded throughout the ballroom. And finally you felt that you were his and he was yours. A/N: Im writing cringey fluff again i'm trying to improve but this is just a no from me... do i set my standards too high?

[carrot--cube]

What I know about Chinchillas

Chinchillas, that creature that God made when he was trying to make an original species and mixed a Rabbit and a Squirrel, but to make it more special, he gave them the softest fur in the world.

Unfortunately, Chinchillas are usually described as “low mainteinance” pets, along with rabbits, hamsters, mice, rats and the like just because they are small and live in cages.

While, in reality, I’d categorize as “medium maintenance” pets. I mean, you dont have to wake up at 8am to give them a walk or be worried they are scratching your couch or plotting to murder you while you sleep, but they are far from boring and require a lot more of care than “refill water and food bowls once every week, clean cage once it starts to smell” Plus, they live for 10 years or more. So you’d better have that in mind before getting one.

For starters, the cage needs to be huge. More tall than wide, because they are jumpy and like to have many stories within their cage. This is because they are native to the Andes, in South America. So youd better have that in mind when giving them their cage and making its setup. Wich should be... A lot of stories, their food bowl, hay rack, water bottle, and a couple of hiding holes and small houses. From there, you can expand it as much as you want. Put some bridges! More platforms and perches! Boxes! Etc. Basically, if its non-toxic and cant give them problems when ingested, go for it. It’ll make a good enrichment. Or theyll give it a good 2 second sniff and forget about it forever.

And Wood. Cardboard. But most importantly; wood. Your cage can’t be finished without some good chews. It’s not just because they chew the cage bars and wont let you sleep. But they are rodents, that means their teeth are always growing, and if they cant chew they’d die. And i dont mean in they “#omg #im dead” kinda way. Since their teeth are always growing, they’ll eventually won’t be able to close their mouth and if they manage to survive for longer, their teeth can reach their skulls and break in to the eyes and brain.

Speaking of teeth, they have to be yellow-brownish, and no, they are not dirty, don’t worry about that. All rodents have colured teeth.

And speaking of body parts. Male chinchillas have extremely long penis.  And they clean it regularly, they succ their own dik. All the way to the bottom. So unless you cant really explain your innocent child what a Penis is, don’t get a Male. Males may get hair rings in their peens, that are... well, hair rings around it, they are painful and very very bad, so if you notice anything wrong with the downparts of your Chin, take a look at it.

They also do better in pairs or in small herds of 3-4 individuals, but if you dont have a life and you have all the time in the world to try fill the social void of your chinchilla, you can try. But yeah, try to keep at least two in the same cage. Just dont introduce a new chinchilla to the one you have without a proper introduction or they’ll fight eachother. I am not experienced with introductions, but I am sure you can find a good guide or ask someone who has experience.

You want a cuddly pet? Chinchillas are not for you. They tolerate some soft petting, and love cheek and neck scritches, but they generally dont like to be held of hugged.

Since chinchillas are pretty energetic, they need to get out of their cage at least 30 minutes every day, personally, I spend from 30 minutes to 1 hour and a half every day with my Chin

Make sure the room is Chinchilla-proofed. And when you think you have it, check again.

These lil shits will jump, scutter and try to make trouble. They chew wires, leather purses, footwear, foam, paper, including wallpaper, cardboard, sometimes plastic and metal, too. I caught mine chewing the walls stucco after he ripped some of the wallpaper off. They are small, and most of their mass is fur, so they can fit in most holes and spaces in your room. Dont be deceived. Their fluff lies.

On top of that they will use any and everything to get to the higher ends of the room. Nice shelf you have there, mind if I jump on your shoulder, then on to your desk and THEN parkour my way to it in less than 2 seconds? 

What about the bathroom? you ask. Be prepared for them to take a stroll on your sink and in to you bathtub or shower, don’t forget to close the toilet seat and keep all your cleaners and dangerous stuff off from their tiny paws, and then, check again.

They are born troublemakers.

Ok, play time is over. Now what? How do I make them come back to the cage?

There is a method I Call P&P. Patience and Peanuts.

Step 1 Keep your treats in a jar. And give them some of those treats every once in a while, for about the first week or two after you brough them in to your home. In this period of time they wont get play time. And if they are already used to playtime, sorry buds, you gotta learn this first.

They’ll eventually associate Noise of jar opening = Treats

Now you are good to go.

Step 2

Patience. The first play times may be longer than youd expect. Maybe 2 hours, maybe 3. Whys this? Chinchillas dont really like to be inside their tiny cage and would rather spend all their time in this new place they can jump, run and play. But, maybe sometimes, theyll return to their cage. Thats fine. Do not close the door.

They need to understand that just because they are inside the cage, you are not going to stop play time.

Wait for this to happen the more the better. If they dont run off as soon as you approach the cage, you can give them a treat through the bars, you want the door space free.

Once you are bored and a long time has passed, you chins feel they can go inside and out all they want, wait for them to step inside If you are in a super hurry, try to encourage them with treats or gentle hand movements.

Then, once inside, reward them, use this distraction to close the door.

Step 3

Repeat untill... well, a month of so.

Step 4

Now stand next to the spot you give them the treats and open the jar. You should now have your chins inside the cage ready to be given the treats.  Close the door and reward.

Step 5 Youve successfully trained your chinchillas to come when called by the sound of a jar of treats.

Theres obviously more methods, but this is the one I use, mostly because it just developed naturally.

After playtime, they need to rest and do other chinchilla things. You? you have to clean after them. Chinchillas pee inside the cage usually in a set spot, but they poo everywhere. On your bed, on your chair, your desk, your everything where they have been. They are poo machines, they dont stink and they are hard, so they are not too gross, but its still poo, so... clean it, please.

Talking about personal hygene, Chinchillas need Dust/Sand baths At the very LEAST once a Week. two or three are preferred. And no, not normal sand nor dust will do, it has to be Chinchilla Dust or Chinchilla Sand because their skin is fragile and HAS to be specific for chinchillas. Yes or Yes.

Oh, ok, why don’t i leave the dust/sand inside the cage so they can bath whenever they want? Because:

A) If they bath too much, their skin will dry and will occasionate troublesome dermal illnesses

B) Sometimes they pee and poo in there. And they will roll in it. Ew.

Please dont leave the sand bath in.

They don’t usually spend a lot of time bathing, 10 minutes will be enough. Or... when they get bored. The Bathtub needs to be sturdy enough so when they roll, it wont get topped, thats it. Top cover for reduced sand spreading is optional, it works, but you will still get sand everywhere around your chin.

Also, beware, even if you put a little bit of sand or dust, it will go floof and up in to the air, and then, down in to your floor/clothing/whatever.

If you are allergic to dust or have respiratory issues wear a mask or something if your Chin likes to make a mess.

To clean the “bathtub” you can scoop the poop and the unusual pee with something and re-use the sand untill you notice it is getting clumped or dirty.

Alright, day one is over, you head to sleep. Its 5am. Dead quiet. The lights are off, you are in your sweetest dream, eating a pizza. And then, when you least expect it, Hell breaks loose, delivering to your ears, the roar of 100 demons. Adorable little demons

They are not dying, they are scared of... something. If you just got your Chin it’s most likely the new enviroment and all the new stuff. Mine has been with me for a year and something now and while he doesn’t bark as much, sometimes he gives me a small heart attack when I’m in bed. Once a month, maybe, they don’t do this often.

And finally, let me reiterate:

They are smarter than what you may think.

Don’t let them decieve you.

Those bug eyed, big eared, fluffy little creatures know what to do, and how to do so that they always win.