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according2thelore · 6 months

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okay so your es/ls verse is making me lose my mind omg!! I check everyday and every little snippet heals a part of my soul I am not even kiddinggg! This last one about es!sam missing was so so so on point, I finally have the courage to send you an ask - what if es!sam or dean or both at the same time see ls!sam and dean uhm...um...doing what they are yearning for, kissing or spooning or straight up boning...what happens then? Does ES!Dean freak out and bolt? Does ES!Sam feel hopeful about the future for the first time since coming? Do ES!Sam&Dean evade each other forever?????? Do they accept it or try to play up their wtf reactions as if they havent been dreaming of this forever???

PS - odd detail but I love how adorably you write "kisses you on both cheeks" - english isnt my first language so forgive me if this comes as weird but this phrase of yours always me laugh because it is so cute haha?! I hope ES!Sam kisses Cas on both cheeks? Did I use it right???

EEK! thank you, anon! MWAH MWAH!

and please send me all the asks in the world! i cradle all of these asks in my hands like a duckling, lol!

OKAY ANON LMAO I TOTALLY READ THIS WHOLE THING COMPLETELY WRONG!!!! i read it as: what if LS!Dean&ES!Sam walk in on LS!Sam&ES!Dean kissing, and wrote this big long terrible thing about it!!!! my mistake!!!!!!! i was about to click publish then read it again and realized my error! if y'all ever want that lesson in angst and torture, lmk lol.

but GAH!!! your BRAIN!!!! i had to write a narrative little thing about it, i hope you enjoy!

sam doesn't know where the hell anyone is.

he checks the kitchen. nope. the armory, no one. the library? empty. he checks everyone's bedrooms, the garage, the war room, the dungeon (still can't believe there's a future where he owns a dungeon), and they're all completely empty.

sam is starting to suspect that they all went out without him, despite the fact that sammy had immediately established the ground rule that no "same" winchesters can go out together without a pretty extensive disguise.

that rule had been established when they all went out to the bar to drink their collective problem away (with the younger winchesters in big-billed trucker hats) and a drunk girl had stumbled straight from older dean's unwilling arms into younger dean's infinitely-more-willing arms and did a double-take. then a triple-take. then she saw The Sams, and they got the hell out of dodge before things could get ugly.

twins exist, for sure, but identical twins separated by 10+ years? not really.

sam's walking down another of the infinite hallways when he spots dean--his dean.

he had given up on finding anyone and gone to do some more archiving work. it was one of the only things that kept him sane in this new reality, and he enjoyed the quiet, satisfying work of logging complicated artifacts in his older self's laptop.

it was outside on of these rooms that he finds dean.

sam is positive there's nothing on these floors but dusty, mostly unopened rooms full of non-sharp, lore-heavy papers and gadgets and pottery, so he's confused why dean is here at all.

(and another, more bitter part of him is surprised to see him here without his precious sammy)

dean's pressed against a door, and sam's steps slow, because he's seen this exact scene in that one movie about the blair witch that terence made him watch at stanford. they had all jumped and laughed and rolled their eyes, but sam had sat straight as a board, beer sweating and unopened in his hand.

dean is clearly not looking at him, face pressed into the doorcrack like he's trying to smell or something. sam creeps forward, listening, but can only dean's quick breathing.

is he hurt? sam picks up his pace.

when he's directly behind him, he leans his head in close. he can smell his own shampoo in dean’s hair.

“dean!” he says suddenly, because it’s his big brother, and sam is legally obligated to be a little shit about it.

dean jumps like he just took a bullet to the kidney, and he slams both hands over his mouth. he whips around with glaring eyes, but he’s clearly shocked by something. something not-sam.

“what the hell?” dean asks, sharply, voice barely above a whisper.

“what are we doing?” sam asks, lowering his voice, too. is something wrong? what’s in the room? sam makes a step forward, but dean reaches a hand out to sam’s chest, keeping him there.

dean raises his other hand to his lips, motioning for sam to be quiet. sam hunches instinctively, and creeps forward quietly.

he and dean are sharing space next to the door, and sam presses even closer so dean’s back brushes his chest with every inhale. there’s a few-centimeter crack in the door, just enough for light to come through, but they can only see a sliver of a shelf from here.

there are voices, sam realizes. behind the door. they’re faint, but one is getting steadily quieter and louder, like they’re pacing back and forth from the door.

"--leave, already?"

a soft laugh. "you don't mean that."

a groan. "yeah, sammy, i kinda do. i don't like this. that we have to hide this."

sam knew it was their older selves, but the confirmation of it shoots a spark of nerves all the way down to his toes. why are they here?

“we’ve hidden this before. we hide literally everywhere. all the time.”

“but it’s us, y’know?”

“even more reason. could you imagine telling dean that this is how we end up?”

“kid’ll wet himself in glee, promise you that.” a silence. “what?”

“nothing. just…”

“d’ah, stop lookin’ at me like that.” dean grumbles. and his voice stops moving back and forth.

“or what?” challengingly. sam flushes, because he knows that tone of voice. he flirts with that voice. keep it together, man, he wants to scream to his older self. dean shifts in front of him.

“or i’ll come over there and make you,” dean says, and sam can feel the dean in front of him tense up.

there’s silence in the room for a second, and sam can feel the ragged inhales of the dean in front of him. sam’s palms are sweating.

“how long have they been here?” sam asks quietly, and if he didn’t know better, he would say dean shudders as his breath hits dean’s scalp.

“i don’t know. i just found them a few minutes ago. they’ve been talking about us.”

sam can feel dean’s voice rumble, and he closes his eyes, tight.

the silence reigns, and sam leans forward even more,

“what are they doing?”

sam reaches forward to push the door open. dean makes a wordless hushed sound of protest, but sam has already knocked the door open an inch. it’s silent on its hinges.

sam leans over dean, and his blood runs cold.

sammy is sitting on a table, facing the door. dean’s waist is pressed between his thighs, and one foot has hooked around dean’s calf to hold them close.

they’re kissing.

sam can hear the wet sounds their mouths make as they part and connect. tongues flash in the yellow over-head lights.

the dean in front of him makes a noise, shocked and…and something else.

“hate that i have to have you here, sammy. want to fuck you on the kitchen table, make them watch.”

sam watches his own face contort into a groan, watches older dean bite kisses down his throat. sammy’s lips are swollen and wet, and sam flushes hot because oh my god oh my fucking god—

“you like that idea, don’t you? spread you open for me, make your little favorite hear what a slut his older brother is? make him know you’re mine?”

younger dean’s hand flies to his mouth. sam desperately has to press a hand to his cock, and does so, praying that dean doesn’t turn around.

“no bites.” sammy pants, and tangles his hand in dean’s hair, pulling him away.

sam is shocked by the pure want and adoration on his older self’s face, and aches down to his very bones.

“can’t believe we wasted so much time.” he says, voice rough. his eyes are soft. older dean’s hand bunches in sammy’s shirt, and sam can see the tips of his ears go pink.

younger dean stumbles back, and slams into sam. sam jerks back with a yelp, throwing his hips away because he is terrified that dean is going to feel the hard swell of his dick in his jeans.

dean is panting, and his hand shakes on his mouth.

“oh my god,” dean whines. “they’re—together—they—“

“they’re fucking.” sam confirms, nodding and not knowing why. “they fuck. they fuck each other.”

“stop saying it!” dean whisper shouts, bending at the waist and standing up again, pacing in frantic little circles.

“together,” he’s muttering. “they’re—they—holy shit.”

sam’s heart is pumping in his ears. he can’t help it—he can’t—his eyes fall to dean’s crotch. there’s a bulge in his jeans. sam’s mouth goes dry. his whole body goes hot.

does…does dean—

“i don’t—“ sam says, but he doesn’t know what he’s going to follow that up with.

“yeah, i know.” dean says, laughing breathlessly. then his eyes get wide and he grabs a fist of his hair. “oh fuck. what are we gonna do?”

“pretend we didn’t see anything?” sam suggests.

“we were going to—y’know! to you!!! y’all!” dean says. he’s panicking. sam’s hope starts to curdle.

“say it—fuck. they’re fucking!” sam hisses. dean groans like he’s going to be sick.

dean put his hand over his mouth and starts muttering again. sam catches a few words. “kiss—how could he do that—little brother—we promised—can’t believe—“

something strange shifts in sam’s chest. since he was freshly 11—hell even before that, when he found out his kindergarten teacher was engaged, and sam found out what “marriage” meant, he had grabbed dean’s hand excitedly when he came to get him from the classroom and elatedly told him “we’re gettin’ married! i’m gonna marry you!” dad had later disabused him of that, and dean had crawled into their bed later that night and kissed sam’s tear-streaked cheeks. “it’s okay sammy,” he said, “i’m gonna be at your weddin’ anyway. standin’ right behind you.” sam’s stomach had curdled. “but if you’re really, super old—like 29–and you’re still not married, we can talk about it.”

sam had thought about it when he was 13 and watching dean press the girl of the month against the side of the impala from the motel window. 16 years to go, he had thought with all the tone and life of someone counting down the years of a terminal diagnosis. he had been rotting with this for years.

and they—future they—did it! are doing it? they…they’re together. in all the ways. in every way.

“i gotta go,” dean mutters, and sam catches one look at his overwhelmed expression before dean takes off. sam blinks after him, still processing.

together. he and dean together.

“dean,” sam calls. he’s shocked by how breathless he is, and clears his throat. “wait up!”

he follows his brother, like he’s been doing since he was six.

but for the first time in his life, his chest swells with a tentative, frantic hope. he’s afraid the weight of it—of them—will choke him. he doesn’t know what’s going to happen. dean probably won’t talk to him. but sam—he—it’s starting. this could go either way, but whatever this is—love, family, whatever—is starting.

and he can’t wait to find out.

~~~

“do you think they’re talking about it?” sammy asks later, washing his face before bed. dean is sitting on their bed with a cleaning cloth, freshly showered. “do you think it was enough of a kick in the ass?”

“knowing us, not a fucking shot.” dean says blandly, cleaning his gun. “at this rate, i think i will actually have to suck your cock in the library four times a day to get it to sink in.”

sam rolls his eyes, and dryly says, “romantic.” he adjusts his collar and his eyes land on a couple of splotchy bruises on his neck. “hey!” he leans out of the bathroom. “i think you actually left bruises.”

dean looks up, face purposefully placid.

“whoops. let’s hope pipsqueak doesn’t see those.”

sam scowls.

“you’ve got issues.”

dean lifts one shoulder up in a coy shrug and tilts his head.

“aw, baby. only for you.”

“you’re an ass!” sam calls as he steps back into the bathroom. he looks at his and dean’s toothbrushes sitting side-by-side.

he smiles. yeah.

they definitely got them.

~~~

PS - aw! thank you so much!!! it’s not weird at all! and yes, that's completely correct, haha! ES!Sam is for sure kissing Cas on both cheeks!

LS!Dean is the guy running up and trying to stop it but the poor fool is too late! they are embracing!

(I DO NOT KNOW WHY THE ONLY OTHER EXAMPLE OF THIS IN TUMBLR'S GIF LIBRARY IS FROM GABRIEL'S INFERNO, PLEASE IGNORE THE CONTEXT OH MY GOD AHAHAH)

anyway!!!

i am kissing you on both cheeks! so now we're both laughing! thank you for this ask, anon, it made me giggle! have a great day! <3

-lizzy

#ask box #lizzy answers #ES/LS verse #anon <3

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quinnkdev · 7 months

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Just wanted to say, I'm looking forward to when you write about why you stopped using RPG Maker 2003! It sounds like a very interesting read to me, as I myself eventually want to write about why I keep crawling back to it, ha! (It's mostly how it comes with the most out of the box compared to later RPGMs, whose scripting capabilities are useless if one doesn't feel up to learning the code... at that point I may as well start coding from scratch, which is exactly the path you seem to have taken, fittingly enough! It's not satisfying to try and master an RPG engine when know I can't do anything remotely cool with it without learning something completely different.. I boil it down to 'you can't make Yume Nikki with newer RPGM default tools', but I definitely want to expand more on the thought) I haven't had the time or energy to try any of your games yet, but I'm p sure we used to be in a Discord server together, and looking over periodically and seeing how much progress you've made has been really cool, so I'm excited to get around to trying them! Someday I too want to learn a proper coding language and move away from RPG Maker, but until then it gets the job done for me (especially with the recent Maniacs Patch mod that greatly expands what it can do).

Wishing you luck on your current project in the meantime!!

hey, i had this lying around in my inbox for entirely too long - and for that i apologise, i wasnt really sure who you were until i followed a context-cue from your blog to your art-stuff just now. good to have heard from you again, and no hard feelings :,)

rm2k3 is decidedly a development space that makes sense. hell, on the side, i am currently making a small game in it again with a friend (no ETA yet). something nice about a path of less resistence towards something neat youve been thinking about.

the maniacs patch is definitely something i took note of out of the corner of my eye (and in watching riggy2k3's streams on occasion), but having released two games in the engine on steam, i kind of dont think that i can take it on board as the future of my commercial game efforts.

as much as it hurts to admit, i cant think of game development as my fun art anymore - i have to sell the things i make in it now, and rm2k3 games arent very well equipped for that. they dont interlock well with steam, meaning you can't give players achievements or even let them take screenshots through the platform (something a lot of them are VERY unhappy about). that, and tons of QOL problems (one time, somebody refunded a game of mine because it was "too small, hard to see" - rather than realising there was a way to fullscreen it).

regarding yume nikki likes in newer rpg maker versions - i mean, id say "swollen to bursting until i am disappearing on purpose" by december 7th does an admirable job of being one made in rpg maker mv! but of course that one uses tons of plug-ins.

bottom line: programming isnt desperately needed if you primarily like making games for the fun of it (and seeing that you predominantly make fanworks, id wager thats your main objective! good! :] ). if you need to earn a living (like... me :( ) then you may have to bite the bullet.

#quinnterrogation

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mochiwrites · 9 months

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ive just finished catching up on night life and wow! oh gosh!! theres so much to process and so many questions!!! what happened with the last human mumbo was close to? whos the murderer? what exactly is scar being hired to do? whats scars past? wtf is up with scott? did scar set up that illusion with the house fire in the most recent chapter or scott? both?? why????

even if scar does all this to protect tub, wheres the guarantee that scott doesnt just pop in and take him anyways? i doubt theres so much as a drop of honor in that creepy, creepy man. what if scar gets found out and mumbo and grian are betrayed so they stop talking, then scott gets taken by tubs so scar's left alone, and goes to mumbo and grian for help which they ultimately give because how could they deny a friend in need?? WHAT ABOUT PEARL???

oh my gosh PEARL!! im so concerned for her. im so scared for her. if something happens to her ill kill everyone in the fic and then myself /ref

also taurtis?? id assumed he'd died, then grian had some self thinking about taurtis might be dead and now im convinced hes gonna come back somehow?? but how? or am i overthinking this and he IS dead? god poor dude

GRIAN. LORDY LORD how on earth so much guilt can fit in such a tiny man baffles me. at the same time something about him being human and objectively weaker in all this really resonates with me. his desire to be useful and of equal standing. ouch. doesnt hit any weak spots for me there no not at all.

im also very unhealthily in love with this version of mumbo. id die for him a million times over.

the worldbuilding is incredible!! it's a lot but i feel like its being incorporated in a way that isnt overwhelming so we're able to follow along with everything pretty well! plus, the fact that a lot of it is from grian's (very confused) perspective makes him work really well as a sort of source of information for readers! its great!!

i am just. overall very. wow. looking forward to future updates. very much looking forward to that. keep up the incredible work!!

ehehe henlo!! :D

many questions to be had !!! I want to answer all of them SO bad oh man. but I am being so brave and not spoiling *vigorous nodding* some of these answers Are coming soon though!!

scar’s motivations, in a broad and general sense, are really intriguing to consider in this au. he’s someone who’s never been human operating on fae morals while mingling with humans. so there’s this really interesting clash of ideals and goals going on. but if he’s not careful, the fallout could be… messy. extremely messy.

PEARL AND TAURTIS OUGH… taurtis was put on a VERY interesting character path, and let me tell you it was. A major struggle trying to figure out how much of his story to put in the limelight. because taurtis is technically living in a different town while going through stuff and the path that leads him to the arachne is all going on in the background fbfbfbfg but 👀 in regards to his status… who knows! and PEARL… I cradle her So gently in my hands, I care her so much. I am so sorry

and ACK I’ve talked about grian and his humanity and the connection it has to everyone and the story drives me MADE. because realistically speaking, he Is the weakest. he Is the most vulnerable. the most fragile. it would Not take much to kill him. yet that doesn’t stop him from wanting to help. from wanting to be useful. there’s so much drive and perseverance and just… hope. he has so much hope and stubbornness and he is so painfully human. it reminds the non human characters of what they lost. of what they want to protect (mumbo).

and objectively, it’s because of grian’s humanity that he’s able to see the humanity in those around him (mumbo and scar).

songbird!mumbo is SO beloved. little sad and anxious vampire guy… I’m so sorry

but uwahhh thank you !!! the world building is something that I have a lot of fun with in this au. because it’s a fantasy au there’s So much world at my fingertips, which is why it’s so important to find the balance when introducing concepts and stuff. I try not to overwhelm with information <3

and using grian as the reader’s in to the supernatural world is Very purposeful :D when you begin the series, you and grian have the same amount of knowledge. you’re entering the supernatural world together, and learning the same information. so the readers are Literally seeing the world through grian’s eyes.

it’s a very helpful writers tool for world building >:D

and !!!!! 🥹💕 I’m glad you enjoyed it so far !! chapter 5 is already outlined and planned hehe. I’m very excited about this next chapter, and I’m hoping the wait won’t be too long!!

( also, since you mentioned the solar eclipse playlist, this au has a playlist as well! :D in case you’re interested uwu )

#mochi speaks #songbird asks

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girlstressed · 7 months

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for the advice column: how do you deal with rejection sensitivity? it is literally so hard trying to internship hunt rn bc i'm too soft. (i mean of course the only real thing i can do is keep doing it until i stop being so sensitive but what do i do in the meantime lol)

hi anon! we are birds of a feather i also really struggle with rejection especially back when i was applying for my first jobs . i think you have the right idea honestly in that the only way you'll start getting used to it is by doing it often but also theres some little tricks you can use in the meantime that i used (i am not a professional but these worked for me!!)

tempering my expectations (aka trying to mellow ur hopes out): i applied to a couple places that were very much Not going to hire me/i wasnt a great candidate for. this piece of advice is kind of work intensive but i feel like it helped me sort of temper my rejection sensitivity ("ah eh i knew they werent going to hire me type beat" <- this made getting rejections from places that i interviewed for too not that bad). dont get this twisted with not being hopeful, stay hopeful! someone will definitely get back to you!

your self worth isnt based on whether they accept you: its really easy to fall into this cycle of "oh they rejected me im terrible ill never get a job etc" and that really pulls you into this vortex of not doing your best at your future interviews/endeavors because you're already afraid that they'll reject you. the important thing is that even after you receive a rejection be kind to yourself! the more you practice not placing your self-worth in achievement the less it'll matter if they reject you to you and the more you'll be able to focus on putting your best foot forward.

work on what you can control: you really can't control the places' final decision, but you can work on making your application more competitive! maybe get an unbiased person to look over your resume/cover letter if you aren't getting to the interview portion, or get someone to practice interviews with you if that's what you struggle with. this last one really helped me because i found that the more i practice something the more confident i feel about it, and generally this leads to more success!

i hope this helped :) keep me updated anon the work force is hell rn but i hope hope hope these internships get back to you!!

i guess im an advice column now

#omg i yap sm #advice column

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urie · 2 years

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if i am very honest with myself i havent felt The Same about where i live since the summer/fall of 2020. between being tear gassed by my city police and having my local government lie about it and then everything that happened afterwards at the homeless camp, literally the constant threat of helicopters circling (100% a psychological warfare thing) and police surrounding us all the time and what felt like a failure in the end after all of that, idk, i feel hollow walking around my city. i dont like going near where all those things happened and unfortunately they were all kind of very central to the area and close by my house. it just feels weird, strange, different, all the above.

this is very very much a white privilege thing but i truly did not understand what it felt like to genuinely fear the police. i knew to be wary and i knew they couldnt be trusted, i knew all they had done, but i could not fully wrap my mind around it, in many ways i dont think most white people are able to, there is just a genuine mental block there caused by privilege

but for as brief of a time as it was, i did experience police brutality and excessive use of force, for the first time i was able to catch a glimpse of what that was like, and i have not recovered from that

i thought i was going to die up against that fence when they were throwing tear gas at us, there was nowhere to go. i still remember the way the sound of rubber bullets echoed around me and how i couldnt figure out what direction they came from and how helpless that felt. and that happened right in the center of my city and i still had to ride my bike past that spot on my way downtown. every time

and now i have this fear unlocked that i just couldnt have known before and obviously i know philly is not the only place that happened and police are bad everywhere but specifically seeing the ppd uniform just sends jolts through me now. even in totally innocuous settings

i remember one night in the fall i was dressed in such a way that made my identity impossible, whether i was male female white black etc, there was no way of sussing that out especially in the dark

and i remember standing in front of a cop car, thinking absently that they would hesitate to run a young white woman over, that i had an advantage others didnt, and i'd be fine, and i was using my status to put myself in situations that i'd have some protection

but obviously they didnt see me as anything but a person in their way and the fucking pig DID drive forwards anyways and i was so taken aback i fell and someone had to pull me up and drag me out of the way

and i remember that constantly. that being safe was kind of an illusion and as much as i thought i was fine and i wasnt being mentally affected by everything it obviously isnt true

idk this is just a ramble but

the pandemic made home feel weird, then the protests made me feel connected to my fellow philadelphians and a better future, then we got snuffed out and smothered in the end anyway, and everything looks strange and empty again, and what i have now is a helpless feeling, and ptsd

i want to believe 2020 did mean something and it will be a catalyst for a different future but i look around and cant see it and despair for that. i dont feel good about being here. just odd

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lucasgregorowicz · 2 months

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TW:HEAVY THEMES/SUICIDE

Okay see the thing about suicide is. It feels like a solution to my problems and struggles cos I am never doing good. And thing is even if all my problems like regarding my future were solved like lets say got a stable job and I am doing well it wouldnt change like more problems would come up. I would fear other imaginary scenarios. And it will never be better. And I want it to get better.

Yet every day feels like a fucking idk battle but also I am so disconnected from everything I don't feel alive like nothing feels genuinely real anymore. And I know I am 23 which is old enough. To get shit done yourself which yeah would be the case IF I had gotten the change to grow up normally with no abuse.

And everyone is like yh well time to put on your big girl pants on and fight through it. What if I am tired of like fighting. What if I wanna rest. And I know I dont like deserve rest cos like. I am doing what everyone else is doing. Just with more fear that I effectively hide it cos no one will accept it or respect that you are struggling but will more likely be using it against you.

I also take steps to get myself out cos for instance I hoped that getting a Bachelors degree will get me out of that negative mindset so worked my ass off for 4 yrs and here I am. I got it. Still feels the same. Tried to get a job landed with horrible coworkers that had me crying after each shift and then I got sacked and I was glad cos took that as some experience. And now I will start the job hunt again or go do my Masters and I am sure I will get somewhere.

But it still wont feel better. I will still be Saturn. I will still be suicidal. I will still me the same old me that is sad and not accomplished. I am still the same 15 yr old that started self-harming to feel something and no one ever helped even if I begged for it. Cos all everyone cared about was my ability to be productive at school and uni and then down the line to make money. Which I proved that I am able to do with some tiny hangups that aren't that tragic.

Maybe I wanna feel okay again. Like when I used to be so excited about trips that I prepared what I would wear days beforehand cos I was so excited. I was so excited about new life chapters. Like starting a new school. Moving to a new country. Meeting new ppl. Then what I looked forward to turned out shit and took my joy away and just. Like I want it back. I know life isnt fun and will never be. And the older you get the less time you will have the less friends you will have. And then at the end you will just be a robot that goes to work and back and sleeps and repeat. But I dont want it to be like that. I want to be able to enjoy the mundane again.

I dont wanna become a person that lives to work and all her will to live is gone but also I don't wanna die I want things to change.

But if I say that everyone expects me to wanna be lazy and do nothing in life which was never the case. I always worked myself into the ground and skipped everything crucial to get shit done and be productive I dont know why that isnt enough. Why do I have to always work harder. I am exhausted man. I dont wanna die but I wanna be able to live again.

#tw suicidal ideation #tw self-harm #long post #tw personal #saturn stuff

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dreamingpine · 7 months

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you think if i died someone will remeber me here? whille someone think of me some many years in the future and be like "oh i remeber them. they did some cute art sometimes. i wonder ehy they stopped uploading?"

i hope they think of me fonly and simple come to he conclusion that i just got busy with life or something. not that id have died. i hope. i don wanna make someone i dont know sad when they think of me. id be very uncomfortable i think. considering i dont know them. i think id feel the same for people i do know. i think living in my famil house has helped me with this because of how intrigrated i am in this dynamic, even if im quite.

i feel like if i live alone itll only be a matter of time before i quitely dissappear from being and being in everyone memories. i know the internet isnt as immortal as we've come to think but i dont think i wanna dissappear. i dont hink so anyway. i. like. watching tv? well not in the traditional sense but i like seein hings. i also used to like reading but i havent like. been doing that. i also like drawing i think, even tho its like. hard.to do. im not good at commitment i think. im sure.

i think. itll be a long and quite time before i go but. i . have.

i. uh. have heart? constipation? emotion.

i dont talk. and its like a joke now, but sometimes its hard to. sleep. and i. i dont think i work as much. at least compared to others but. i feel like im at work alot. i dont.

i dotn enjoy stuff. i would like to. and then

i. im not making the most of what i got. im. very complacent i think. i dont know if thats the word. things are. moving forward. its. it feels like. its o ly a matter of time before im left behind? the

he world. is a scary gloomy place. why cant i. why cant i be. the. be better. be nicer to people. be fun for myself. be the light in the dark. for me at least. i.

feel complicated when i think of me. the. i only look on if i rip a part of me out from my living beating chest and. place it in. put it in a. a pretty boy character. then i can see. and think and torment while being. while having a wall up because. its not me~ it not~ .like that. and i

im sorry chacter of my own that i like .im sorry my favorite store bought chacracter. who is not mine but had very little to say. so ive ripped you apart. and tormented you. for amusement. it was intreting. in sorry. i know your not real but.

im not.

story. maker. raconteur enoug. to. to feel like "okay but its a compelling story and the idea would be a nice thought piece for blah blah." i dont

i dont even have the art skills.

why do i always. justify and rationalize. my. sorrys are losing meaning. oh gosh.

#boy thats pretty negative.#do you think.#im. uh.#i dont know. do you think i make these so.#when the times comes something of me. is still here?#nothing will happen. if random person walking by. but im.#i don know. will people like. remeber me. randome person on the internet. in the world. number 36373848272

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a-wild-things-rambles · 2 years

Text

i in a bit of a weird time rn. ive been majorly online in some form since 2020, but only in the last months of 22 did i start posting/creating anything to more than discord servers and friends.

as you can see with the new icon and the fact ive posted more art in a few days that i have... ever on this blog, im readdressing my proiritys when it comes to our beloved interweb. my 'successful' pieces of art were gifts to bigger creatives. ive done lot of fandom stuff, and been inspired by the creatives around me.

but emulation isnt good for the self. ive had alot of issues with going from traditional to digital, especially with the gap in expertise, ive learnt and grown [albeit in my own stubborn way without getting help] and how for fictional characters its hard to get refrences.

i am a visual artist, i work best of pictures or models, not having to fuiger out what things look like and how body's work. i have done some stunning [if i say so myslef] graphite drawing which while not 100% photo-realistic are pretty damn close. i have trialed and error-ed my way through the basics, and i can do things like the dick grayson alone anamatic with fast and quick drawings of bodys in motion.

as i mentioned earlier, the bone/skeleton pieces are not just easier and more interesting for me to do, but a lot less stressful, i do them for myself, for my skills, and how i see light.

going forward id say to expect less fandomy stuff. more still lifes and objects and buildings. ill still do people drawings but their not my favorite to do. im not gonna never do anything fandom related ever again. but dont expect it id say.

an artists journey is a long and ever changing one, im still slowly getting a 'style' and i think moving to subjects i enjoy drawing more will help me avoid burnout and stress. art is my relaxing thing to do after long hours and stressful days, and i want to keep it that way.

as i grow even more conscious of the future and jobs and all that, i want to grasp my freedom i have right now, use it to make stuff i enjoy, and maybe get my own little corner of the internet, being able to continue my art through the years ahead. i want to get something im good at. to be the neon skeleton artist. or the bones bitch. gain an identity and something for being me and doing what i enjoy.

idk. this dosent mean much change. but i hope yall stick with me for whatever happens. ive really enjoyed tumblr and everything so far, thank you for sticking around, beloved mutuals new and old, and all the regulars in my notifs! and everyone who has liked or shared or commented on my works, it means the world and has got me though a lot.

#thebirdspeaks #not much is gonna change #but id like a style and artistic identity #something me in the ever shifting world we live in

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that-one-weeb-but-starwars · 3 years

Text

My Love| Echo (part 6 beejesus...)

Notes: this ones short my bad, also this way shock you. I also have a strong urge to make hondo show up perhaps in the Future

Warnings: sad flashbacks, death and disease mentioned, cannablistic mentions (not eating anyone but like the word), cursing,

Reader: Male

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 3.5 | 4 | 5 | 6 (you're hah here)

Masterlist

That wasn't possible.

"What a shame." Maul spoke, turning himself around and walking away the Pyke leader following him.

This was wrong.

"If we came for this it better be important." Hunter spoke snatching the drive, "we leave now,"

"Me and Jacob they'll return you to your ship." The teen spoke up, "but be quick we'll need to leave with the transports."

It was a silent stealthy journey back to the ship, Echo being pushed along the way by Wrecker mostly as he was trying to process what was being told to him.

So...Y/n was dead? No that was possible- they couldn't of killed everyone.

He walked onto the ship the twins wishing them luck as they rushed back off into the darkness. He took a seat on his bunk, removing the head gear and mask, his gaze trapped within the grain of the metal.

"Tech get us out of here." Hunter demanded.

Wrecker watched Echo, his brows furrowed and in conflict.

"Hey. Kid." Wrecker spoke nudging Omega softly, "Good job out there."

"I just stuck to the plan." She smiled.

"Wanna do one more mission?" He asked playfully she nodded happily.

"Go find Lula. I think someone needs her." Wrecker spoke as Omega nodded rushing to find the Tooka doll.

Wrecker walked over to Echo, sitting across from the reg, Echo kept his gaze down.

"Hey."

"I don't, I don't understand." Echo responded, "I- I don't..."

"It's okay-" Wrecker tried to speak.

"But it isnt." Echo seethed.

The sudden jolt told them they had jumped to hyperspace. Echo rubbed over his eyes.

"What was Y/n's family doing associated with the Empire..." Echo spoke, "I...I don't..."

Wrecker frowned, Hunter watching the cockpits doorway, his brother lost and confused, let down and heart broken.

Walking into the cockpit the door closed behind him.

"You'll want to see this Hunter." Tech spoke, "Echo was right."

Hunter took a seat, "Y/n's code name is Rosyln then?"

"In a sense yes, yet It is many things." Tech informed, "It's multiple things, a name, a code name, a secret military operation."

" a what." Hunter demanded answers now.

"On this disk it says Project Rosyln was ment to help in implicating...hunger in a sense.."

"Hunger?" Hunter asked, "Hunger for what?"

"Flesh, sentinel flesh," Tech responded, "They had many failis dead on contacts, until. Rosyln."

"The dead brother of Y/n's Echo mention." Hunter spoke as Tech nodded.

"He survived it, partially, resulting in an outdated inner rim disease known as Cancer." Tech responded, "though it is not sepcified what type, he died young."

"So how does Y/n fit into it?"

"Rosyln was Y/n's younger brother by adoption law on corosaunt, and the Zabrack was not lying when he said The L/n family was ontop the imperals kill list, it was ment for them to go into hiding, to essentially metophorically and phsycially slip into the dark." Tech contuined.

"Okay so the kids?"

"Test subjects." He responded, "farm animals, future death troopers fueled by anger and loss, much more. Hunter, They weren't a family, those people they called there parents? Used them."

"Can we save any of them? Y/n? The older kids? The young ones? Anyone?" Hunter questioned.

"This here is a list of kids of Y/n's family," Tech spoke, plugging into the panel infront of him as the hologram formed, "red are dead, there eay of leaving is by there name. Jay here died of rejection of food, he starved to death. Siora drowned herself in the shower room-"

"Thats enough Tech. Who's alive." Hunter demanded.

"Y/n here is still alive, but that is all." Tech responded opening the file, "but has a number of unstablizing test ran on him, it shows here his diet was starting to change from normal foods to sential flesh, but before they could change him fully he escaped."

"How."

"Unknown."

Hunter was silent, for a moment as Tech closed the file, going through the others, "This also contains other information, such as helpful codes the imperals are now using, current inflation in imperal troopers, comn chatter and resources-"

"Don't let Echo see this." Hunter spoke.

"Hunter, I. I don't think this is a good idea." Tech told him, "You'e seen what he'll go through already to see him again. Hunter that was a sith he went up on, a Pyke leader."

"He doesn't need another thing to have a mental break down on. What happens if we find Y/n? Dead in a ditch-." Hunter argued, "if we can't fix him- we can't even help Crosshair None the less ourselves!"

"Hunter, he deserves to know." Tech defended, "let's be real here Hunter, we've nevee been there for him, we saved him from one hell to put into another, we can't help him because we don't understand him."

Hunter was silent, he knew Tech was right, "You're right." Hunter told him.

Tech pulled the disk from the panel looking back at Hunter, "Hunter I know this is hard. But this is his family. And I wish for a time in my life, I was wrong."

Hunter stayed silent walking out the cockpit, and down the small hallways, Omega trying to cheer Echo up with Lula and Wrecker with a supportive smile.

"Echo."

Echo looked back, "Tech wants to uh...show you something."

Echo got up without a word walking into the cockpit.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Omega questioned looking up at Hunter.

"Sure he will!" Wrecker tried to stay postive looking back at Hunter who kept his gaze down.

"Not this time Omega." Hunter told her, as she leaned in for a hug, he patting her head as she hug his stomach.

Tech walked out the cockpit, the doors closing behind him, "Echo wishes to take first watch while we rest," Tech informed.

"Where do we go next from here?" Omega spoke looking up at Hunter.

"We'll keep working jobs for Cid, seeing what we can do." Hunter responded, "Tech when Echo is done with that disk, see if anything on there has Crosshair on it."

"I have alredy copied the disk, I will look through it more on my watch after Echo's." Tech responded.

Hunter nodded

"hey kid." Wrecker spoke up, "lets go play a game together."

Omega nodded as Wrecker picked up Omega the two walking away to her room, Hunter mentally thanking Wrecker.

"How'd he react." Hunter responded.

"He hasn't." Tech responded, "I left it plugged in. He has the option. I just don't know if he's used it."

It was true, Echo had the option, the wanting, but he sat in his chair, staring at the disk sitting in the panel.

This was it.

This was the ticket, he could know, move on, grt some type of closure either Y/n was dead or alive. Even if Y/n was dead or alive he let Y/n's biggest secret slip.

'Just...I don't like people to pity his name.' Y/n told Echo, the two standing in all black together and umbrella over head as they walked the cemetery, 'he fought hard, that's all that matters, and there's no reason you should pity someone for when you loose,'

Echo nodded at him, 'I won't tell anybody, I understand to a degree, but if you need to talk, I want to listen,'

Y/n nodded, 'Thanks again for comin along Echo, not the best way to meet my baby brother,''

'I was glad to meet him, either way,'

Echo rubbed the back of his neck, finger's scratching at his nape. Standing up and walking over his hand hovered over the disk, should he pull it out? Should he press that small white button to let every fear he's had consume him?

He pulled the disk out, this was the right choice. Whatever he needed to know. He'd learn from y/n when he'd see him. Rubbing over the disk he slid it in his belts pouch and sat in the piolts seat looking out into the blue swirls. He was doing it again.

Sitting in silence, watching nothing new pass him by. Y/n was alive, if the others believed it or not was there choice, it was there opinion, he knew what he was saying was a fact, and he didn't need no disk to tell him so.

But the question still remained, Why was Y/n involved in crime syndicates and with Sith?"

The male turned himself around shoulder hair length, strings of white in his hair; stress induced.

"It's done." Lom Pyke spoke, "The kids are out, where is the spice."

"It's on the ship don't you worry." He spoke.

"You've returned the favor after I've said you returned the favor."

"Then we've returned the favor." Lom Pyke argued.

"I did everything you asked!" Lom Pyke argued, "I've stuck my neck out for you more than you can imagine you cannablistic bitch!-"

The pyke leader was cut off, lifted into the air as he gripped at his neck, and brought forward quickly, choking on the lack of air.

"Do you know who I am?" The man questioned quietly.

"L-let-" the pyke tried to speak stratching at his neck for breath, "let me g-go!"

"Oh...you don't?" The man questioned, "I was afraid once...not to long ago, afraid as you are now..."

The sound of choking made him pause adding slight pressure, "p-please!"

"I am no longer afraid...I am..." the man thought, any more and the pyke leader would die, "Well, funny thing is, I don't even know who I am anymore...but I do know, that, you, owe me much more than you think."

The man was dropped to the floor, attempting to catch air, "Perhaps, you wish, once to see who I was, to see how I became this thing you call a cannablistic bitch!"

"Please! No-" He defended, raising his head to look up in plead, "Not again! Not that place!"

A hand was placed on his head, as the Sith lord walked in. Within a matter of seconds the Pyke fell limp, the man pushing him over as he fell and rolled down the small stells of the elevated ledge.

"You're here for a reason Maul?"

"I am indeed, that clone, you told to meet us on Zut, there were clones."

"Entertain me Maul." He spoke, walking down the small steps, the hells of his boots clicking as he made it down the steps.

"Seems you're little buddy Captain dipshit isnt the only clone that's defected. That little Ray shit of your's hacked the imperal files." Maul spoke, his tone as usual, dark, broody, annoying to the mans ears, "Clone force 99, may just be on our side."

The man snatched the datapad from him, "and they have a child with them. How wonderful."

"Status' as of current."

"Like I said that dipshit of yours sursingly has his corners covered. Ray's tracking them as we speak." Maul told.

The man looked through the photo's there he was in all his glory, sure angry but just as remembered.

"Lets hope an ex sith lord, a fucked up group of clones, a cannablistic bitch kill, and some kids can help kill your old ass wrinkly master." The man spoke Maul snatching the data pad back and making his leave.

"Oh. And one know's who you are." Maul responded standing in the door way, "Before I gave them anything, one knew Rosyln is Y/n,"

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trvncyz · 3 years

Text

Jujutsu Kaisen characters during Ramzan || random headcannons || part 1

PART 2 OUT NOW

note: before i start, i would like to clear out that these are just some things which happen in my house and may differ from your culture. this is just how i would imagine the jjk characters to behave during ramzan. hope you enjoy!

-4/27/21

part 1- nobara, itadori, megumi, gojo

part 2

1. Nobara Kugisaki

very excited to fast because it reduces weight!

the kind of person who sleeps through the fast and only wakes up for namaz.

eats most of the fruits during iftar

doesn't want to miss any fasts because she had a bet going with itadori to see who could keep the most number of fasts. (being a girl, nobara knew she would lose but she's not the type to back down from a fast either.)

she regularly gets scolded for not helping at all with the making of the iftar.

"HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO WORK WHEN I'M SLEEPING?!"

"IT SHOULDN'T EVEN BE CONSIDERED A FAST IF YOU COMPLETELY SLEEP THROUGH IT" (dadi™)

she's very excited for eid to come because... who isn't? new clothes, eidi (money) and good food? i think yes.

the type to stay awake till sehri so that she doesn't accidentally miss it.

i think she keeps most of her fasts, leave for her periods or a few days where she threw up because of the long day or something.

2. Itadori Yuji ft. Sukuna

alright hear me out, he's the type of person who blocks Jennifer Lawrence, Kylie Jenner etc on ramzan chaand raat and unblocks them on eid chaand raat. (did that make sense?)

has a bet going with nobara to see who can keep more fasts. doesn't matter if he's absolutely dying, he wont miss a fast. (that's good tho?)

accidentally saw one of his bikini posters and chanted "Astaghfirullah" for the rest of the day.

he was teasing nobara for not fasting and got a pillow straight to his face

he starts taraweeh in hopes of praying next to his crush's father but dips midway

like nobara, he's very excited for eid. the type to put his eidi pictures on snapchat

almost swore at sukuna in his head but he held himself back

sukuna keeps talking about food in his head. like dazai in that bsd wan scene where he kept whispering 'curry, curry' in ango's ear.

the type who complains about not enough iftar being made though he barely eats any.

"iftar bohot kam bana hai."

"tum itna toh kha k dikhao"

"there's barely enough iftar" "try to finish this much first"

(the english translation isnt funny at all pls-)

3. Megumi Fushiguro

perfect boy

keeps all his fasts

wakes up on time for sehri. sometimes also goes out to get the yoghurt.

opts for a whole 27 day taraweeh

prefers wearing full sleeve shirts/tshirts and fully covered trousers if he's not wearing a kurta pajama or something like that.

BLACK KURTA WITH ROLLED UP SLEEVES (SCRREEEEAAAAAAMMMMSSSSS)

sometimes helps out his mom with iftar

cooks for his sister when she's not fasting

it was very hard for him but he completely stopped hitting itadori during the month. he was back to normal from eid.

speaking of eid, he isnt overly excited about it but he's looking forward to the sheer qorma.

megumi (to me) is someone who always needs something playing in his ears. its his way of concentrating and stimulating his brain and it really eases his stress (am i talking about myself? absolutely.) during ramzan, he decided to switch to random podcasts or recitations and stuff.

if he's tired or feeling a bit sick, he sometimes sleeps during his fast.

MAJOR HEADACHES™

i dont know what i can write about this boy, he's absolutely perfect in my eyes and i dont know what he could do wrong except hit itadori.

4. Gojo Satoru

the ultimate cause of megumi's headaches

totally sleeps through sehri

he might be fasting but his energy level never goes down like HOW?! others are almost dead but he just keeps jumping around like he's hinata shoyo or something

halal pick up lines which make you swear

"I want your feet to be my kid's jannah."

"I want my feet to straight up meet your nose."

fr if you spoke to him during your fast, keep muttering "la haula wala quwaita illa billah hil ali al azeem"

always looking for excuses to skip his fasts but nanami keeps him in check

has to be constantly nagged to pray. never does it in time. often his namaz gets qaza-ed. (what's that even supposed to mean?)

he once tried to make iftar for the children. everyone ate iftar about 2 hours after sunset. (pain)

he too, is the type to pray taraweeh next to his crush's father.

speaking of taraweeh, he's just lying there after his iftar feeling like he's missing something when he suddenly remembered that he didn't turn up to taraweeh that day.

complains a lot about how he's thirsty while he's fasting and get's a scolding from nanami everytime.

shoko tried to tell him the positive effects of fasting but he just ended up telling her that "girls use their periods as an excuse to skip fasting." shoko didn't let him eat iftar that day.

weird food combinations even during iftar. cucumber with ketchup? rooh afza on watermelon? you bet he does that daily.

(both of these are very tasty, you can try it out if you want to.)

starts counting down to eid the day ramzan starts.

his RICH GUY EID FLEX PLS. he got his new nike shoes stolen from the mosque and it served him right.

gives everyone lots of eidi on eid because he's RICH™

-----

got a little carried away but i loved writing this! gonna do a part 2 in the future with other characters. maybe even a part 3 but thanks for reading. if you have any questions about this post, feel free to ask me!

ramzan mubarak to everyone and happy fasting!

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mimiplaysgames · 3 years

Text

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.

#terraqua #terra #aqua #ventus #terraqua week #kingdom hearts fanfiction #omg #this is finally out holy shiiiiiiiiit #i'm really proud of this one #reading through for edits #i impressed myself haha #my fic

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