#mal can write

[malconnorsupremacy]

our secret moments in a crowded room

Pairings: Kanej, mentioned zoyalai

Rating: Mature

word count: 1.5k words

There was something about tonight.

Maybe it was the overly extravagant outfits- the vibrant coats with scrunched fabric flowers, the prodigiously flattering gowns and the decidedly complex hairstyles. Maybe it was the aura of effervescence surrounding the vast room as people chattered and drank and ate delicacies passed about by the hurrying waiters. Maybe it was the man across from her, with his sophisticated coat and neatly done hair. The dot of black amongst a canvas of colour. 

Or maybe it was just the wine. 

Inej stood amid the crowd, just another face, another shadow. An unnoticeable figure in a simple Suli dress. But she didn’t mind. She didn’t require attention. She drew it in bouts when she needed it, when the tightrope walker inside of her shone through. And why would she require anyone else’s attention, really, when the man she loved had his eyes on her so fondly.

The rush in the air had a reason, of course. The reason being the King of Ravka had found his Queen, Sankta Zoya. And they were to be married. The pompous occasion attracted people from all over the world, one of them being Inej. Part of the reason why she was invited was the Suli delegation. And part of it was because she was good friends with a certain Sturmhond. 

Of course, the only reason Kaz had agreed to be her plus-one was to spot royal and known nincompoops and possibly loot them in the foreseen future. No other reason.

As if he ever expected me to believe that, she thought dryly as she watched Kaz sneaking glances at her amidst his conversation with a rich mercher.

Inej whiled away her time talking to people she had no interest in making conversation with, and refusing chest-thumping men who wouldn’t stop asking her for a drink.

“You look ravishing, Miss Ghafa, would you like to dance?” one of them, an aqualine Ravkan who called himself Sebastien Vhiel, asked as dipped his bearded chin to look into her eyes. His attempt at being romantic, she supposed.

“I prefer Captain, actually,” she said as she sipped from her verre.

“Oh” His mouth opened as he came to a realisation. “You are the Suli Captain, The Wraith.”

“Yes, well spotted,” said Inej.

“It’s quite bold, dare I say, to be a woman aboard a ship, let alone be its captain.” He was frowning now, as if contemplating the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“It’s also quite bold to spew nonsense in front of a woman who doesn’t give a fuck about what you think, and yet here you are.” Inej resisted the urge to smirk when she saw the man’s face  turn red. Now, she’ll have you know, she didn’t like to swear much at all. But after being hit on by such blithering fools, wouldn’t anybody want to pop the F-bomb?

As the Ravkan turned to walk away with his scattered dignity, another man appeared behind him, seemingly proud. 

“It appears you are having fun,” he commented as he drew closer to her.

“Why of course, it is such a joy being insulted by idiots with brains the size of a pea.” She rolled her eyes while Kaz grinned.

“Besides,” she looked at him narrowly, “you left me all alone all night.”

Kaz sighed. “I apologise, my dear Inej. But I managed to plan another robbery mere seconds after talking to Mr. Berr. The poor fool gave away too much, much of which was fake. And he thought he was being smart. He won’t see this one coming.” Inej could see the glint that lit up his eyes whenever he talked about a job. This one was going to be fun, that much she could already imagine.

But she wasn’t going to talk about future heists tonight, he could tell her his plan later.

For now,

“Ask me to dance with you,” she all but commanded.

Kaz raised an eyebrow. “You want a cripple to dance with you?”

When she nodded, he curled one end of his mouth. “Why so, love?” 

Oh, how she loved it when he called her that.

“As a compensation, for leaving me alone. Ask me for a dance, and ask me nicely.”

“Very well. Please, my darling Inej, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honour of dancing with me?” he said before holding out a gloved hand. She wanted to kiss him.

Instead, she slipped her hand in his and let him lead her to where other couples were already swaying. 

Before Kaz placed a hand on her waist, he slowly whispered, “I can’t say I’ve danced before.”

“Me neither,” Inej said as she interlaced their fingers. “But we can learn. Together.”

They danced away from the others, that is, if you could really call it dancing. They barely moved their feet, just a few inches back and forth periodically. It would be scandalous if anybody recognised the Bastard of the Barrel and the Terror of the Seas dancing with their arms around each other, looking like they were madly in love, but a quick glance across the room would have anyone assured nobody cared about anyone’s business other than their own. 

The feeling of solitude and secrecy overcame Inej. How ironic to be surrounded and yet alone.

“You’re smiling,” Kaz noticed.

“Yes, I am. This is nice,” Inej replied.

“It is,” Kaz said and Inej almost cried there wasn’t enough light in the room for if there were, she was certain she would catch him blushing. She could, however, see the half-lidded looks he kept offering her every few seconds.

“You’re dying to kiss me, aren’t you?” 

Kaz’s eyes visibly darkened, and she could see the gears of his mind working before he gave her a smirk.

“I’m offended, Inej, I thought I was harder to read than that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have guessed so easily, if it wasn’t for that look you were giving me all night.”

“What look?”

Inej mirrored his expression. “The look you give a pigeon you can’t wait to pickpocket.”

Kaz fumbled with his footing, managing to step on Inej’s foot and earning a yelp and a shove on the shoulder.

A few people turned to stare, and Inej swiftly pulled away from him. 

The very next second, Kaz felt a weight drift from the room and he simply followed suit, grabbing his cane from the bar and hoping the spectators didn’t see his face. They’d been careless. If even one of them spread talks, or recognised them, it would be disastrous. 

But then, Kaz thought as he spotted the chamber Inej planned on staying in, offered to her by King Nikolai himself, the ignoramuses present there had hardly the wit of an ostrich. For them, Kaz and Inej were but a flustered couple in love.

When Kaz entered the chamber, he saw Inej already unhooking her earrings.

“No plans of returning to the party, then, I suppose?” Kaz said as he discarded his coat.

“None,” said Inej, beginning to unclasp her necklace. Moving in strides, Kaz appeared behind her in the mirror and hesitantly raised his hands toward her necklace. They’d healed profoundly over the years, and yet there was always consent in each and every touch and kiss they planted on one another. Inej nodded, Go on.

Kaz removed the necklace, delicate as it was and laid it in Inej’s palm. He then, yet again, met her eyes in the mirror, seeking permission.

Inej arched her neck, Finish the story.

Kaz lowered his head and placed a kiss at the very spot he’d touched her for the first time ever, back at the bathroom in the Geldrenner Suite. He’d once mentioned to Inej it was his favourite spot to kiss on her body, it was the spot that gave him the most joy being able to touch and it was the spot which reminded him of how far they’d come. 

Inej smiled as he trailed his lips up to her ear, her temple and then back to her neck, his hands gently cupping her shoulders. After a few minutes, which Inej was sure she’d spent in heaven, Kaz turned her and pecked her nose.

“Inej, I love you, but the look I have on my face when I want to pickpocket a blockhead is not the same as the one I have on while I'm thinking about kissing you,” he said with utmost solemnity.

A giggle broke out of Inej, but was soon silenced by Kaz’s lips on hers. His kiss was slow and soft at first, gradually becoming more passionate as Inej responded eagerly. Neither of them could ever fathom how quickly things always escalated between them, how fervently they showed how they needed each other and how it was always the same tide of feelings that washed over them each time- of love, security and bliss.

At the end of the night, Inej lay with her hair strewn and lips kiss-swollen, a serene smile plastered on her face. 

There was definitely something about tonight.

on ao3

[drenched-in-sunlight]

family tea party.

(in my mind, Radagon is the pure Order with no kindness half, and he always yearns to converge with Marika + be on equal footing with her, so in my drawing he’ll always be kinda nuts)

[bruisedboys]

looking after hobie brown with a split lip and an almost black eye and he won’t stop touching you. it’s extremely distracting and you’d tell him so but you’d hate to see the look on his face when you admit he’s flustering you. so you let him be and scrub at the stream of blood trailing from his lip to his chin. you shuffle up his lap (yeah, you’re in his lap, and what about it? he was the one who put you here. he hadn’t given you much of a choice. insisted it was easier to reach and pulled you into him before you could protest) to get a better angle and his fingers press harder into your hips, his grip on you tightening as he tugs you up his lap, somewhat helpfully. you try to ignore the way it makes you feel. the way you’re now practically chest to chest and he can probably hear your heartbeat, it’s so damn loud.

and then, the very tips of his fingers dip underneath the hem of your shirt and brush your warm skin, and you decide you just can’t take it anymore.

“hobie,” you chide, soft and entirely too flustered.

“what?” he says back, dripping with ignorance, and you’d think he was genuinely clueless if you didn’t know him so well. he pushes his hand further up your back, his rough calloused fingers practically burning a mark on your already hot skin.

“quit it”, you say, though you don’t sound very convincing at all.

“quit what, babe?” hobie presses his palm to the small of your back, forcing you ever so closer. you gasp, pressed up against him, your hands braced on his shoulders, but he only smirks knowingly. “m’only helping you out.”

[freakyficsforfuglyvillains]

Intimacy HC’s

🪳❤️Maxime Le Mal🪳❤️

(Barely) SFW

If you ask Maxime what sort of partner he is; he would confidently describe himself as an attentive lover.

Well, if “attentive” is his way of saying “clingy,” then let’s just say: it's a very apt descriptor.

Maxime is one handsy dude. He loves physical intimacy and takes every chance he can get to show you just how much he adores you, both in private and public. Whether you want him to or not. Simply put: he has no shame.

Maxime is a suave, boisterous supervillain who does what he wants and does it in style. For him, a simple peck on the cheek just doesn’t cut it. He’d rather pepper you with smooches while he showers you with compliments, Pepe Le Pew style.

You bet he asks for “just-for-good-luck” kisses before going on heists. There have been several instances where he’s halfway out the roach-mobile when he suddenly— and loudly— gasps because he realises what he’s forgotten to do.

He’s a devastatingly good kisser. He’s got it down to a formula. Sometimes you can even tell what sort of mood he’s in based on the technique he uses. Here’s a tip; If he’s heavy with the tongue, it’s safe to assume wants to take you somewhere more private. If he bites? Oh, It’s going down. There’s no room to negotiate.

If you’re out in public with him, his hand is on some part of your body. When he doesn’t have his arm wrapped around your waist or slung over your shoulder, he’s holding your hand. You’ve noticed he’ll occasionally kiss your hand too. Especially if you’re in the presence of other villains.

Maxime might be half-roach, but he’s a cuddle-bug through and through. His hugs are beyond comfy too, thanks to his big, puffy coat. If he’s sitting down and you just happen to be within reach, he’ll just pull you into his lap. He says it’s “like fishing.“

After a particularly long day, Maxime drapes himself over you with a dramatic sigh. You don’t have the chance to ask him what’s wrong before he launches into a tirade, bemoaning those who dared slight or inconvenience him. You can’t help but find it a little bit cute.

[inkluvs]

xoxo - send me a little concept / thought with a character i write for and i’ll expand or write u a blurb

omg finnick with a golden retriever reader who spends all day on the beach collecting pretty shells and rocks for him while he swims … and when he comes ashore theres a huge pile of treasures waiting for him 😭

omggg i’m imagining r bringing a little bowl w them to the beach to collect shells and little pearls and u try to hide it under ur towel and he’s like, “honey what’s that?” and ur like. nothing <3 so he lets go of it knowing u can’t keep a secret for long anyways <3 and all day ur roaming around the beach and bringing ur bowl with u <3 collecting oysters and shells, taking care to wipe them off and make them all pretty and shiny <3 and it gets to the point where the bowls like overfilled so u have to leave it in one place and come back to it w the shells you collected <3 and when finnick comes ashore he’s running straight for you, picking u up and spinning u around, laughing together as he asks u what you’ve been up to <3 so u pull out the little bowl and his grin gets wider, all teeth and pinched cheeks <3

[shushmal]

okay pacrim au (it's gonna be steddie bear with me here)

nancy is the best jaeger pilot the world's ever seen, her and barb are an unstoppable force. but then barb dies, gets completely ripped from their mech. so they pair nancy with steve, a pilot known for being generally drift compatible with everyone to a degree. it's not perfect, but nancy who is full of fury needs someone that can roll with her punches, keep her going. and they do well. they aren't the best, but he's the only one that can handle nancy's force. steve's good at taking hits. they mange it for about two years. and steve had been doing such a good job hiding it, absorbing all of nancy's internal grief and fury so she could keep doing her job.

but he breaks. the two of them are force-retired, and nancy lashes out so intensely, steve goes into a depression, completely severs ties with the jager program and disappears.

then there's eddie, a street rat by birth, but a guy so inherently good with the jaeger technology, he's managed to build his own on scavenged scraps—part of it from the jaeger barbara holland died in. he's used his lil jaeger to defend his little forgotten part of the world best he could, mostly luring kaiju away towards the actual military and stealthily escaping before any government detects him. but it's hard to do alone.

and then he meets steve.

[dreamofcamelot]

What about….. descendants AU???

(Quick idea bcs fight of our lives is on repeat rn. It’s going to be messy since im copying what I had in my notes, so excuse any typos)

-----------------------------------------------------------

So Arthur is the prince of Avalon blah blah blah instead of villains here they banned magic and sent all sorcerers to the isle.

Ok so Morgana turns out to be a sorcerer, Arthur who is about to be crowned king is like “we need to do something this has to change, let’s give them a chance” so he decides to invite a few of the children of the isle to come and study here.

Now enter the vks

We got manic pixie boy Merlin who grew up with stories about magic and dragons and his (absent) father and hates what the crown has done to sorcerers and magic. He's always felt like his very existence is a crime.

His magic? Banned. Books? Confiscated. He’s lived all his life in the isle so he does not know what magic feels like but but but he knows there’s something in his chest a pressure like he can’t never take a real breath like there’s something holding him back. He feels there’s something inside him that’s begging to come out.

Merlin, Nimue, Freya idk all the sorcerers maybe Mordred can come too I like him, are chosen to go to Avalon High.

They are happy about it, yeah why not, maybe things are finally changing and they might have a chance at leaving the island and having a different future, they heard the prince is not like his father, they want to give him a chance.

Merlin specially wants to give him, whoever he is, a chance.

Then they get there n meet Arthur n he’s all formal and wear this fake smile n Merlin can tell he’s doing this reluctantly, he is not confortable or happy to be greeting them, their presence alone bother him and it’s showing.

It’s obvious to them that deep down he hates magic n since magic is what he is he must hate Merlin too so not a great start.

When they crossed the bridge, Merlin felt it, it’s like the world got back it’s colors, like seeing, breathing for the first time.

Magic is in desuse in Avalon so people don’t learn it nor practice it but since Merlin is magic the second he leaves the isle he's able to use magic naturally as if he had been doing it all his life.

He begins experimenting with it and conjuring cute fire dragons and showing the others what they missed all those years and suddenly he realises that up until that point, without his magic, the very source of his being, Merlin was not living.

For the first time in his life he feels something. And then his hatred become stronger. How could they have taken this away from them, from him? Completion never felt more bittersweet.

And then, instead of going the d1 route, something happens, maybe Agravaine's being nasty again and throwing a coup d’etat or smth cause I really want to throw here the plot of d4 and bam they need to fix it, they must go to the past together n then, because they are a couple of dumbasses in every universe they start fighting n mess up with the pocket watch.

So instead of traveling to a few moments before the incident they end up to when magic was about to get banned and wow they discover the truth about Merlin’s incredible powers n learn about his dragon lord dad and wow is that Arthur’s mom? Wait what is his dad doing with a sorcerer?? Unbelievable. They have more in common than any of them thought before.

Etc etc etc 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[louhilainen]

I'm terrible sorry for this stupid meme. 😅

When reading the scene in S&S, where the Darkling taunts Mal in the ship "I'll be certain you hear it when I make her scream," I was really confused because did I just read right or do I have just a dirty mind???

Later in the book, Mal questions Alina what the Darkling and Alina were doing under the deck in his room (implying they were having intimate relationships), and I was like????!! Shouldn't you be worried instead if she was being tortured??? She was his captive you know??? It just seemed that Mal would have preferred her to be tortured instead...

[jack-kellys]

ok so for uk davey to have a costume change in act 2. he needs to look more like racetrack.

i don’t know if this is purposeful in the previous broadway and tour productions, but race’s base in the past has been a plaid-patterned shirt that was either stark in contrast (ryan breslin’s dark on light) or stark in color (ben cook’s blue and green). and bway davey’s is a mix of both with a bright blue, thicker stripe on a white base.

uk davey already has color, but it’s a green, and he and les are alone in this color compared to the rest of the ensemble (besides like. albert for some reason. but i kinda think they fucked that up a bit lmao). the rest are in paler colors made stark only by suspenders, kerchiefs, or caps. they are far more unified. race still sticks out- his cap is actually & interestingly green (at least.. it was for a while), but he also has a red pocket square and a nicer vest and a Pattern. he’s got a blue pin-striped white shirt.

and davey i think. first of all gets a kerchief. i think he might come into world will know with one honestly. and davey i think maybe doesn’t shift patterns—i think les might be more inclined to that—i think he shifts to a color that more unifies him with the newsies. and more with crutchie and race. it’s got to be some kind of paler blue, and since crutchie, jack, and kath have solid colors i think davey still needs to. maybe it’s also a bigger shirt too. enters kony setting his vest on the table & does kony sans vest. yeahg.

for jack i think. i just truly and desperately want him in an undershirt that is paint-RUINED. i think jerjor’s undershirt had like…. two swipes of paint…. and the first time we see jack in act 2 is his most vulnerable. he’s chosen officially to leave town after whatever this is all ends, he’s back to painting santa fe, he believes that he, specifically, failed everyone. i need that undershirt rife with colors and therefore emotion. it needs to be literally on his sleeve ! yk! bc what he says in the wwh(r) scene is mostly delivered stonily, with less emotion. just sort of hopeless. i think it’d also be an interesting visual to go with “you look like hell”, bc if his attire is covered in paint it could mean he’s stayed up the whole night, or was super careless, etc etc. gives More to go on than every-time-without-fail’d underwhelming makeup lmao.

then i think during the pulitzer office mayor/snyder scene he changes back to the red or puts the shirt on over the undershirt…. and then the rally. we know he can’t change clothes bc boy was basically in newsie jail down there. but we DO know that the delanceys further beat him up (they do it during bottom line reprise’s outro upstage if some of u weren’t aware) before tossing him on the ground. so we Know he looks. even fucking worse at the rally. maybe a piece of the undershirt is ripped off and wrapped around the fingers morris steps on. maybe it’s on underneath the red shirt for the first time to hide bruising. maybe the injuries we saw from the strike get quickly worsened while brooklyn’s here plays. there has to be an even further disheveled shift. this kid has been ruined now, not just his attire. not just his facade. his actual self.

[danlous]

There’s NOTHING that will convince me that Lestat didn’t love Claudia. He showered her with gifts and bought her clothes and called her beautiful and ma petite and every other pet name he could think of. He taught her to hunt and was proud of her ferociousness. He taught her to drive and was worried she would hurt herself. He defended her when Louis disapproved how she was acting around people. He loved to make her laugh! He danced with her! At the funeral Louis tells her to go chat with Lestat because he knows they enjoy each other’s company! Lestat did try to connect with her and willingly spent time with her and they understood each other the way they didn't with Louis. Lestat was the one who suggested Claudia would be their daughter and later resisted when she wanted to stop being viewed as that!

In the beginning Lestat seemed to enjoy having Claudia around and it’s only when he starts to feel she’s coming between him and Louis that he starts to despise her. Even then i don’t think he ever stops loving her. Even when he’s cruel you can see it behind his actions. The way he acts after Charlie’s death (the event that begins the deterioration of their relationship) is sadistic but i think he really was trying to teach her in a harsh way, it’s just that he’s deranged and has no idea how parenting is supposed to work. He’s concerned when he sees how Claudia has changed after she was gone and wants to know what happened, and though he later uses it against her i think he was genuinely worried (and until proven otherwise i headcanon that he found Bruce and killed him). When she prevents her from leaving and drags her home because Louis would leave him or kill himself if she’s not around i think he also genuinely wanted to protect Claudia because he knew she wouldn’t survive Europe alone. And he actually says it but masks it with sarcastic mockery because at that point he and Claudia can’t show any weakness in front of each other. When he bitches to Antoinette about her ungratefulness that’s not a monster talking about his enemy but a narcissistic parent feeling genuine emotional hurt over perceived slights. And like Sam said Lestat was actually proud of her in the finale. Because that’s his girl! Evil of his evil! That’s his goddamn daughter! He’s just so fucked up and blinded by his bitterness  and debilitating fear of abandonment that he manages to convince himself that he hates her. But he loves her. And when she actually dies i want him to fucking cry and grieve and regret for the rest of eternity

[itsalwaysforyou]

the black sky and all those lights

a silly little something i wrote for jalentines!!

When Mal opens the dormitory door, Jay is standing in the hallway in his workout gear, hair tied up in a bun. He’s already grinning in that way he does when he wins a fight. Mal rolls her eyes at him. Grabbing her bag, she says bye to Evie, and joins Jay in the corridor. 

She scowls as they walk, her workout clothes tight on her skin. Jay had insisted they’d do things properly, and not in their usual leather. 

The hallways are decorated for Valentine’s Day, making Auradon Prep even more gaudy and colourful as usual. Pink and red hearts plastered across the walls, boasting the abundance of love here in Auradon. Jay’s had a thousand notes in his locker. Mal’s had none. Every morning, she watches Jay approach his locker like he would a target on the Isle. Weight forward, shoulders squared; ready to fight if needs be. And the paper falls to the floor like blood, only sickly pastel. Scrawled glittery gel pen. Words confessing passionate love, or asking him on dates, or doodles of hearts. Jay smiles the whole time. Greets and winks at girls. Scrunches those notes up in a fist. 

“Everywhere looks disgusting,” Mal says as they approach the sports hall. Heart-shaped bunting crests the doors.

Jay holds the door open for her. “It’s fun.”

“You would think that.”

The sports hall is mercifully free of décor. They drop their bags in the corner and begin to warm up, another stupid practice Jay insists on. His top rides up as he side-stretches. Isle rule: never show skin, especially to the enemy. Except, Jay loved to parade around in those stupid sleeveless vests. She’s yelled at him plenty of times about it—Are you insane? You’re a walking target. He would just grin and say, they’ll have to catch me first.

Jay laughs as he grabs the practice swords from their stands. “Here.” 

He throws it, and Mal catches. The weight in her hand is familiar. Already, her pulse is thrumming faster, and maybe if she closes her eyes she’ll be back on the docks, with the wind ripping at her hair, and the salt stinging her nose, and half a dozen of Uma’s crew jeering over the clanging of swords. 

Jay chucks her a mask too, before attaching one to his own face. The mesh turns her vision slightly hazy.

“Ready?” Jay asks.

Mal’s watched fencing practise a few times, mostly as an excuse not to do homework and instead watch her boys wipe the floor with all those prissy Auradon princes. Coach Jenkins appointed Jay captain of the team a few months ago, a role he takes more seriously than she’s ever seen him take anything. 

“Rassembler! Salute! Lower the point. Masks down. En guarde!”

Mal lunges first, which Jay clearly anticipates, parrying her blow. He circles. Strikes. Mal blocks it. He’s quick. Reflexes honed to a sword’s point; learned by practise and theory. Mal lashes out again, just catching his free arm before he jerks away. She grins underneath her mask. Her breath comes quicker. Jay’s blade arcs down, hitting her chest. Mal swats his blade away. She hears him laugh. She growls. Strike. Parry. Strike. Block. Strike. Jay lands another hit. Their shoes squeak against the linoleum floor. 

“Come on, Mal,” Jay teases. 

Mal lunges like a cat on its prey. Jay’s blade grates against hers like steel against flint. Jay may be quick but Mal’s smaller, and she weaves her way through Jay’s blade until they both have the sword’s point angled at each other’s chests. 

They’re both panting. Jay lowers his sword first. Takes off his mask. 

“You came in clutch at the end,” he says. 

Mal huffs, wiggling the mask off her face and wiping her forehead with a sleeve. “You actually get training.”

“And now I’m training you!” 

His hair has loosened during the sparring, spilling out at the seams. He unties the bun; flips his hair down and shakes it out. In this late-afternoon light, his hair could be made of gold. Hair longer than Mal’s ever had. 

He pulls his hair back into its bun, deft fingers making quick work. When he straightens back up again, his face is slightly flushed from the match. 

And Mal looks at this boy she’s known most of her life; this face and these hands; a boy that has held her at the end of the world and the start of a new one. And she snatches back down her mask. 

“Again,” she says, lifting up her sword. 

She’s swinging before Jay’s even had the chance to pull his own mask back down. Her blade slices against his chest, and she hears the breath escape from his lungs. 

“Fuck!’

Jay’s blocking her hits in no time. Mal grits her teeth. A boy who’s inhabited every place she’s ever been. The shadow along the street; a fixed point on the rooftops. Those long, quick fingers that know their way around bandage; around open flesh; around her own hands. Like a comet to Earth. Like an eclipse. Totally consuming. 

And here, where the sun shines brighter than they could have ever dreamed, she is left blistering. Those girls that fawn over Jay, professing their love with the same ease that Mal can hold a dagger to a throat. Jay’s clicking tongue, and that low fry to his voice when he’s chatting someone up. Everything is always so easy to him. He can wrap anyone around his finger with a wink. 

His blade slams into her stomach. Mal pants, the budding pain in her side clearing her head. Jay’s standing above her like some heavenly deity. 

“Best of four?” he offers.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“C’mon. Let’s take a break.”

Jay drops his sword and grabs his water bottle from his bag. Mal joins him, still gripping her sword, gulping down her water like a man in a desert. 

“We should do this again soon,” Jay says. 

“Tomorrow?”

“It’s the Valentine’s Ball tomorrow.”

Mal snorts. “Yeah, and?”

“I was gonna go.”

His words are coming too slow; too considered. Like when he used to talk about his dad, or a particularly bad Barge Day. Rehearsed. A guard dog who’s smelled danger, prowling at the sidelines. 

Mal presents her blade. “En guarde!” she shouts, and Jay ducks her swing before scrambling over to his own sword. 

“Really, Mal? Another sneak attack?”

“I’m keeping you on your toes.”

They waltz around the sports hall, the blades clashing and slicing and singing.

“We all agreed we weren’t going to go to the Ball,” Mal says, jabbing at Jay.

“We never agreed anything.”

Jay lands a blow. They are at the dockyard, with its rotting wooden pier and dead fish stench. The screeching of metal; the shouting; Mal’s heart hammering like the tide. Blood, and life. The roar in her ears. A dragon’s call. Body moving without a thought, as quick as a lightning strike. Not having to look behind her because she knows Jay is there.

“Exactly!” she says. “Why would we want to go to some stuffy Auradon ball?” Jay tries to say something but she ignores him. “Why would we care about Valentine’s Day? It’s corny, and over-commercialised, and a stupid excuse to make everything about love.”

Jay has her backed up against a wall. With no time to mount his mask, his lips are slightly parted, and his hair is escaping from his bun again. He looks just like he did on the Isle; none of his perfect prince act that fools Auradon. His sword hovers above her throat. 

“Do you yield?” His voice is low.

Mal stares at him. Those eyes that have seen every part of her. All the blood; every smile; her pale skin in the dark Isle nights. The boy that has beheld her every action; weighed it all against his own understanding of the world, and decided that they slot together as easily as a bullet in a pistol.

“Who are you going with to the Ball?” Mal asks. She’s still clutching her sword. She could claim the upper hand, if she really wanted.

A grin creeps across Jay’s face. All those notes and heart-shaped lollipops. The giggling girls at his locker. He could pick any one of them. All of them so beautiful, in their sunset-coloured dresses. He could have anything he wanted.

“Well,” Jay says. “I was going to ask you.”

The sword’s point makes sure they keep their distance. Never too close. All touches so light; so fleeting, as if you could’ve mistaken them for a dream. As if you could’ve imagined the whole thing. All those nights in the hideout where the barrier of the body seemed thin, and the world became so small: just two kids who wouldn’t even dare knock knees. 

So Mal shakes it all away with a laugh. “I’m not going to the Valentine’s Ball.”

Jay lowers his blade. Neither of them move. “Not even with me?” 

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of other girls who actually want to go with you.”

“I want to go with you.”

His words echo through the empty hall. His word is as steadfast as ever, the only opinion Mal will ever trust. Compass, anchor: Jay does it all. 

Heralded here, Mal as real as the vast sky outside. Here, in his gaze, held aloft by trust where there shouldn’t be and compassion where there shouldn’t be and understanding where there shouldn’t be. A home for all her broken bones. 

Mal’s lips unfurl into a smile. This ache in her chest. In her throat. Jay always being able to disarm her. Jay in every place she’s ever been. Jay as her shadow; her skin; her second self. A reflection in the mirror. The line of separation is nonexistent. Like the sun, like the moon: one cannot exist without the other.

[randomshenaniganery]

Reasons why the Svanaclaw chapter wasn’t as good as it could have been

It all starts with Leona, not that his character is flimsy or bad but I don’t think the writer handled him properly. 

The plot seems patched up.

Leona proves in literally every chapter but his own that he’s really smart. He’s the first one to notice Grim eating the weird black shit is bad, he’s quick at thinking and able to do something good while still benefit from it (helping the dumbass group with azul, helping jack from being ganged up on and beat up etch). The only thing he lacks is motivation and that’s because he’s already half given up hope. 

He’s also very likely projecting Farena onto Malleus. Its not much about Malleus is soo much better than him he’s intimidating but that Malleus absolutely wrecking Svanaclaw singlehandedly every spelldrive competition despite how hard he works and how many times he tries reminds him of how utterly useless all his efforts to be king of sunset savana ends up.

No matter all his hard work, his ability and his smarts were he just didn’t win, he won’t become king.

Putting that aside Leona’s ‘plan’ in the 2nd chapter is very... juvenile. 

It doesn’t match up with the rest of his intelligence. 

If every dorm but svanaclaw had incidents with their players then obviously svanaclaw would be the biggest suspect and yet in the chapter every five seconds they’re like OHHH make sure there is NOoooooooooo evidence. 

Also if Malleus is the only reason Svanaclaw loses why are they taking out people from other dorms? Why didn’t they take out people from Diasmonia? Why not just directly target Malleus? I get that he’s really strong and it would be super hard but it just seems like a waste of time to attack players from literally every dorm but the dorm that is kicking everyone’s ass. 

Not only that but if u can’t beat him in spelldrive with your own crazy magic what makes u think a stampede will kill him? That and also Leona’s freak out was so iffy and awkward to me. He just seemed like an asshole especially with the choking his dorm mates and he didn’t even over blot yet. 

I think that the writer was lazy took very direct plot points from the lion king slapped it on and called it a day. 

If you wanted the story to be more memorable or believable try this, Leona seeing some kind of news article talking about what kind of king Farena is, Leona’s family urging him to talk more to them, everyone talking about how Malleus is going to win the tournament in a landslide with very little hope for everyone else, jack talking about how leona used to be so cool in spelldrive. 

You build up Leona’s stress to the point that he’ll start to think that that stupid plan i mentioned might just work because he’s gotten to the point of being desperate. If he might win the spelldrive competition against Malleus Draconia maybe he still has a shot at being king. maybe it isn’t hopeless after all. 

you know what’s better than making him overblot before the competition? making him overblot when Diasmonia wins even if he tried dirty tactics. 

because then ALL of his efforts fall down, his practices at spell drive, how smart he is, how strong he is, and even with him playing dirty. He still lost and that’s what will make him lose it.

This is more authentic and far more in-character than what we got in twisted wonderland.

because Leona is (as I said), really smart and I believe that he’ll only do something stupid if he’s desperate.

So make him desperate. 

so like ya know twisted wonderland writers why’d you do him so bad?

[hanafubukki]

With chapter 3 of book 7 coming soon and then bunny event…

I hope you’re all ready for my spam in…literally everything 🤣🤣

I mean I never stopped spamming you all with my posts wether it be theories, fanfics/HCs/thoughts, screenshots, or general fangirling with, of course, reblogs of stuff 💞💞🫶

But I can already feel that itch increasing even more…😈🫶☺️🌺

[bruisedboys]

can I request eddie and shy!reader with reader’s first kiss?! I imagine he’d be so gentle with her!

I want him to be my first kiss so bad!! waiting for him to be real so he can kiss me tbh

summary: eddie gives shy!you your first kiss

shy!fem!reader 0.9k words

Eddie thinks you look really pretty.

He’d tell you so but he’s already told you twice tonight, and he’s pretty sure if he says it again you’ll burst into flames on the spot. You’re quite shy — it’s endearing and very adorable but it also means Eddie has to be more careful of what he says and does. He wouldn’t want to scare you off.

He watches you pore over a book, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He badly wants to tell you how lovely you look. In a t-shirt that’s too big for you and a pair of sweatpants. Your hair all messy pretty and tucked behind your ears. He holds his tongue, turning back to the old band tee he’s hacking the sleeves off on his bedroom floor.

“Eddie?”

Your voice breaks the comfortable silence you and Eddie had been sitting in. Eddie puts down his scissors and looks up. He likes the way you’ve said his name, like he’s the only person ever. He’s sure he sounds similar when he says your name. He smiles at you.

“Yeah?”

You shuffle forwards on his bed, sliding to the edge until your legs dangle off. Eddie’s struck, yet again, by how beautiful you are. It takes all the breath out of his chest.

“Um.” You pause then, and get this nervous look on your face. Eddie knows it well. You’re often nervous around him.

He sits up straighter. By the looks of it you’re wanting to tell him something. Or ask him something. “Yeah, honey?”

Your eyes flick to Eddie and then back to your hands where they’re twisted in your lap. Eddie sees the tap tap tap of your foot, the wringing of your hands. He shuffles forward on the floor and gets a hand on your knee, fingers curling around the bottom of your thigh.

“What is it?” He asks softly.

When you answer your staring at your lap, determined to avoid Eddie’s eyes.

“Well … I just. I was reading that part in The Princess Bride, the bit about the five kisses? And I just wondering …” You reach up and scrub the back of your neck awkwardly. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

Eddie balks. He was not expecting that. It’s a big question — for you to ask and for Eddie to answer. He has his own reasons. The biggest one being he’s afraid to scare you off, to mess up maybe the best thing in his life right now. Not only that, but he knows how tentative you are about relationship stuff. It’s all new to you.

The silence stretches too long. Eddie rushes to break it before you think he’s gone and backed out on you.

“Oh.” He says, more flustered than he’s ever been with you. Normally you’re the flustered one. He’s realising now how hard it is being on the receiving end. “Well, um. I … I guess—“

“Do you not want to?” You ask quietly, interrupting Eddie’s rambling.

Eddie stops short. “What?” He stares up at you. He can hardly believe you think that. Of course he wants to kiss you — he’d kind of thought you wouldn’t want him to. “No. No, sweetheart, that’s not it. I just. Well, I just wanted to wait until you were ready … “ He pauses, catches the look on your face, like you’re waiting for something to happen. “Are you ready?”

You bite your lip. Not for the first time, Eddie wonders what it would be like to kiss your lips. You nod very slowly.

“I think so,” you say. You’re staring at his mouth now.

Eddie nods so quick he almost snaps his neck. He hardly cares.

“Okay,” he says earnestly. He scrambles to his feet and then moves to stand in front of you, your knees pressing into his legs.

You blink up at him. Eddie can’t resist taking your face in his hands. Your skin is hot to touch. He imagines his face would feel the same.

“You’re really pretty,” he says despite himself. Even though he’d promised not to tell you again until at least tomorrow.

“Eddie,” you chide softly.

Eddie just grins. “Are you sure you want to?” He asks you, struggling to hear himself over the thump of his heart in his ears. He very much wants to give you a Princess Bride worthy kiss right now.

You nod around his hands. “I’m sure,” you say.

Eddie leans in then. His hands on your face, pulling you gently towards him. His eyelids fluttering shut. It feels different but it feels right. He’s about half a second away from kissing you when you say,

“Wait.”

Eddie opens his eyes. You’re so close he could count your eyelashes.

“What?” He whispers back.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you say. Your breath fans over Eddie’s mouth, your lips ghosting over his. It takes all his might not to kiss you right then and there. “I don’t know how,” you admit.

“That’s okay,” Eddie tells you. It is okay. And he’s maybe a lot more honoured than he should be that he’s gonna be your first kiss. “You’ll learn.”

“You’ll teach me?”

Eddie looks at you and thinks yeah, he’ll teach you. He’ll do literally anything you could ever ask of him. “Of course, angel.”

“Okay,” you say. You smile and Eddie thinks if he doesn’t kiss you now he might pass out.

He kisses you. He doesn’t pass out but he comes pretty close.

-

[mrs-jamesbbarnes]

In regards to the ending of Shadow and Bone season 2. Did I like it? Absolutely not. Do I see what they’re trying do? Yeah. They combined two books into one season and added five extra characters to the story. Things just moved so fast, and the story could’ve been told a LOT better.

For instance, we did not get Alina’s struggle. I think the beauty of her story in the books came from her needing to defeat the Darkling without becoming the monster he was and wanted her to be. It was an intense and dark path she took. Ultimately, the third amplifier’s power is shared with everyone to destroy the Fold. But the fact that she had to get to that point where she was okay with dying and/or being completely overwhelmed by the power if it meant saving everyone was the whole point of her struggle. Her reward was Mal, settling down with him to live a peaceful life. And she was ready to be done, to give it all up and just rest with him.

The fact that they skipped ALL of that makes the story so unnecessarily complicated. Because now she’s not ready to rest, she wants to help the Grisha. And she’s got power. But she delved into merzost to save Mal, so now she’s given into this path of darkness. That’s something book!Alina NEVER would have done. Leigh spent three books showing that. So now she’s got that darkness in her. And we know Elizaveta is going to try to resurrect the Darkling because that bee landed on Zoya as the Darkling’s body burned. So season 3 is going to go off the rails.

Also the fact that Mal made this BIG DEAL to the Darkling about how he wasn’t going to make the mistake of leaving Alina again and then the Fold is gone and the Darkling is dead and now he’s just leaving Alina? That’s just poor writing.

I’m hoping Alina and Mal still get their happy ending. Because TV!Mal deserves it, if nothing else.

Also it really bothers me that they just pushed Zoya aside for Alina. They could’ve sent Alina and Mal off into the sunset and let the story take its course. But now Zoya is a side character because Alina is the focus. And that really bothers me that they’re going to start the King of Scars storyline and not give Zoya the attention she deserves. Because Alina needs to be gone for her to embrace her destiny. Otherwise it looks like she’s just Nikolai’s (and Ravka’s) second choice. They messed with Leigh’s beautifully crafted hero’s journey for Alina, and Zoya is going to get screwed over because they did that and I HATE THAT for Zoya.

[thebluestbluewords]

anti-Valentine’s Valentine’s date

I tried SO HARD to write the adorable Jal prompt that I received for Jalentines day, and instead of cute all my brain wanted to write was angst. Set in approximately D2, it’s a 3k lead-in to a longer Jal fic that I’m probably not going to finish writing.

*

Mal kicks the door of the boy's dorm open with the heel of the stupid, impractical strappy sandals she's been wearing since before dinner. 

Or at least, that's what she tries to do. Instead, because her life is a curse and the very existence of high heels is a prison, the delicate silver heel of the shoe that Evie spent hours sourcing for her snaps off. 

Great. Perfect. This is just how she wanted the night to go. 

Mal pounds on the door with her fist instead. "Open up! I brought misery and disdain for the institution of love!" 

A thump. "And chocolate?" 

"No, I didn't steal any chocolate at all from my date with the king of Auradon," Mal says, as sarcastically as she can manage with one shoe on and the other broken to pieces in her hands. "Just let me in already." 

The door pops open. "You're late." Carlos informs her. "Evie already went back to your room." 

Wonderful. 

"I don't care," Mal informs him right back, and shoves her purse, which is tiny and lilac and stuffed to the brim with all the chocolate she could fit, into his hands. "I need this princess shit off my body yesterday. I am not cut out for valentine's day, that's what I've learned, and also Ben's going to dump me and I don't care."

"Woah. Uh. Maybe you should care--" 

Mal spins around to glare at him, and Carlos immediately throws his hands up. "I MEAN, your judgement is impeccable and we all hate Ben now!" 

Ugh. 

"I don't hate him," Mal snaps, yanking her earrings out and throwing them sort of in the direction of somebody's dresser. There's still enough empty space on the top for her to recognize it as a dresser, so signs point to it belonging to Carlos. "I hate love. And valentine's day. And dating."

"You said you hated froot loops yesterday." Carlos points out. "Because I took the last of them. So like, I'm gonna take this with a spoonful of salt here. Did your date not go well?" 

Mal rips the pins out of her hair with so much force that one of them flies into the mirror. It doesn’t shatter, which is a fucking shame. She would have liked to make an awful mess. "I hate love, and I'm going to die alone surrounded by the bones of my enemies. No, it did not "go well,”” She stops ripping out pins long enough to add air quotes, which are essential to the dramatic effect of it all. "He asked if I love him back, and I told him, again, that I don't know how to love people, and he made this horrible face and was so kind about the whole thing, and just-- ugh!" 

Carlos is hovering. "I’m…sorry?" 

"I'm sorry we ever came here." Mal spits, yanking her other shoe off and throwing it somewhere in the direction of Jay's shoe pile. "I don't-- I can't be a princess. I hate that I just-- I don't know how to do anything, and I hate when people look at me like I'm supposed to know what I'm doing, and there were all these cameras, and--augh!" 

"Jay's in the shower," Carlos offers. "If you want to bother him about it." 

"I want to hit something," Mal admits. It's not a perfect solution, but she's already feeling a little bit less like her skin is on too tight now that she's got her hair loose and wild around her shoulders and her earrings and stupid, uncomfortable, impractical shoes off. "I think-- d'you want to spar with us?" 

"Can't. Homework." Carlos gestures to the textbooks he's got spread out on the neater one of the boys’ beds. "I've got a test tomorrow and if I fail I'll have to retake the class." 

Mal leans over so she can see the textbooks. It looks like history, maybe. Something with a lot of dense text and no visible math problems. "I can't imagine you failing any test, furball." she says, meaning it. How well they thrived on the isle of the lost isn't a perfect gauge for how well they're doing in Auradon, but school is school no matter where they are, and Mal can't remember her little nerd ever failing a test.

 Carlos goes even tenser at her attempt at reassurance. "First time for everything." 

"Still, you failing?" Mal scoffs. "We're in Auradon, not Wonderland. Not everything is upside down and inside out and topsy-turvy. Or whatever Allie’s sayings are.. You'll be fine." 

"I'll be better if I study. Sorry. No sparring for me tonight." 

Ugh. Mal rips another pin out of her hair and throws it towards the mirror with the others. "Suit yourself. I'm going to go bother Jay into letting me beat the shit out of him."

Carlos flashes her a little half smile. "Have fun."

“Oh, I will,” Mal assures him, and spins around to go invade the sanctity of the boy’s showers. 

The short, barefoot walk down the hallway to the boy's bathrooms gives Mal critical time to think about her plan of attack. She's wicked and awful, naturally, but she's also not especially interested in getting shouted at by a teacher for being out of bed and in the boy's showers tonight. She's had enough of being shouted at by adults who think they know better than her. She's not some Auradon girl to be controlled, so she's simply not going to get caught. 

Which means she's going back to the boys room. 

At least she'll remember to grab some different shoes this time. 

"Fuck off, Mal," Carlos calls through the door when she knocks a second time. "You can't steal my shoes." 

"I can steal whatever I want, actually," Mal corrects him, opening the door and barging in, as is her right as their fearless leader. She is Mal of the Isle, and she's not a prize to be won or a princess to be wooed. She's going to steal whatever shoes she likes. "Jay's shoes don't fit me right." 

Carlos throws a pen at her. "Neither do mine, you're just delusional about the size of your own feet. At least take my sneakers if you're going sparring. I hate when we have to dig out the poison kit after hours." 

Mal sticks her tongue out at him. Her shoes are all perfect, and she's also perfectly aware of the size of her feet, which are currently half a shoe size smaller than the one Carlos wears.  As such, their shared approximate size gives her the right to steal his shoes whenever the princess ones she's been dressed in are too much for her to manage, physically or mentally. . "I'm taking the ones with spikes." 

"Are not." 

"Are so," Mal says, diving under the bed to where he keeps all four pairs of his shoes lined up. "I'm going to add more spikes while you're not looking. Poison-tipped ones. Razor-sharp." 

"Use porcupine quills, they're barbed." Carlos says helpfully, making absolutely no motion to get up and defend his shoes.

Mal shoves aside the fallen textbook, grabs the hoodie shoved under the bed for later, and ah. There’s her prize.  Boots (with spikes), dress shoes, cleats (more spikes), and there at the end, sneakers. 

"Fishhooks," Mal suggests. "The giant ones that rip holes when they come out. And I'll dip them in bleach powder so it burns the whole time they're inside." 

Carlos shudders. "Gross." 

"You're gross," Mal rips her dress over her head, and does not wince at the popping noise the shoulder seam makes. Evie can fix it again later, or they can burn it. Whichever. "I'm taking your clothes too."

"Wash the bloodstains out before you put them back." 

Shirt. Pants. Hoodie. Sneakers. 

Ill-gotten disguise on, Mal flashes him a thumbs up on her way back out the door. 

“Hey,” Mal calls out, keeping her voice intentionally low. She’s got the hood of Carlos’s stolen hoodie pulled up over her hair, and she’s relying on the sight of a familiar size-shape-color-scheme to deter anyone from looking too closely at her. Not that there’s many students around the boy’s bathroom at 9pm on Valentine’s night, but still. She’s not exactly looking to get caught. “Jaybird?” 

There’s no noise in the bathroom except for the irregular drip of a shower head that hasn’t been turned off quite hard enough. All the money in the world, and Auradon Prep still doesn’t have showers that actually work how they’re supposed to. 

It’s ridiculous. If Mal were in charge of the school budget she’d be putting all the money into showers. A hot shower and a  fireplace in every dorm, so that none of the students have to feel cold if they don’t want. That’s the budget priorities Mal would have. Warmth, and then food. The dining hall could stand to leave leftovers out longer after meals. 

…princesses don’t think about food. She’s been around Evie long enough to know that one. Princesses are tiny and perfect without even trying. Princesses eat salad and fruit and don’t order fries with anything. Princesses are the sort of people the king is supposed to be dating, and Mal is never, ever going to become that sort of person. 

“Mal?” 

Mal does not jump. She just— startles. Just a little. “Hey.”

There’s a smile playing at the corner of Jay’s mouth. “Hey yourself. I thought you’d be out with Ben still.” 

“You know price charming,” Mal waves a hand. “Had to have me home by midnight or else he was afraid I’d turn into a pumpkin.” 

“It’s nine thirty.” 

“Localized curse. The younger you are, the earlier it thinks you should be home. We picked nine, just to be safe.” 

“You can just say you had a bad date, killer,” Jay says. “I’ll be your alibi. You need a shovel?” 

Mal snorts. “It didn’t go that badly, give me some credit. I just freaked out when he started talking about love. While we were on a date to talk about love.” 

Fuck. 

A lot more of the evening makes sense when she frames it that way. None of the bullshit they’ve found online talks about dating the king of the entire country, but there’s a lot of website with mind-numbing names like psychology today and buzzbees news that make it very clear how important Auradon brats think nonverbal communication is. 

She went on a date. On Valentine’s Day. 

With Ben. 

“…Killer?” 

Focus. 

“Fuck off.” Mal snaps reflexively. “I’m fine. Just. Plotting.” 

Jay dodges around her for a pile of fabric, which reveals itself to be his Auradon-blue team hoodie. “You wanna plot somewhere a little better?” 

“What I want is to go home, but I’m not going to get that,” Mal says thoughtfully. “I was going to ask you to spar with me, but if you’ve got any better ideas I’m open to hearing them.” 

“Breaking and entering.” Jay says immediately. “We should blow this place. There’s that all-ages club in town—”

“If I have to touch another human being I’m going to scream.” 

Jay touches her arm deliberately, a sustained pressure that doesn’t even read as touch, just comfort. Mal drinks it in like he’s pouring the comfort directly onto all the jagged, awful pieces of her soul. “I’m not a human being?” 

“Shut up. You’re mine, it’s different.” 

“You’re mine, then.” 

There’s a piece of her heart that fits perfectly again the broken edges of his. Mal couldn’t let go of Jay if she tried, not for anything in the world. Not for her mother breathing fire at them, not for Fairy Godmother insisting that it’ll be good for them to make other friends, and not for a stupid holiday that says she’s only supposed to be tied to one person, and not even the one holding on to her right now. 

“Sure.” Mal agrees, because she can’t put words to the enormity of feelings she’s experiencing. Villains don’t have feelings, but she’s reformed now, and it’s harder to describe the feelings with words than it is to have them. “We can sneak out, see what trouble we can find.” 

“You’re all the trouble I need, killer.” Jay says, too honest. “I’ll take you out of here whenever you need. Wherever you want.” 

“Sap.” 

“Princess.” 

“Do I look like a princess to you?” Mal leans back to gesture at herself. The sweatshirt she stole isn’t Auradon-blue like Jay’s. It’s an old one, ratty in the way that all their old isle stuff is, and nearly transparent at the elbows. The seams are held together with Evie’s neat machine stitching, but the thread is three different shades of red and grey all mashed together, and there’s a hole in the edge of the hood that’s exposing the soft inside of it. Her sneakers are a size too big, and laced tight to compensate. Her hair is still a mess from the violent undoing that she’d subjected it to, and she can’t be bothered to try and tame it, not when her chest is bursting with feelings that don’t have any place to go except for out of her body, in tears or screams or whatever violence she’s able to inflict that will drive the awful right feeling out. 

“The prettiest princess in all the land,” Jay says, and jumps back before the words are even out of his mouth, out of the range of Mal’s swipe. “C’mon, killer. You’re the fiercest baby dragon I know. Come out with me. We can find trouble somewhere better than this.” 

"You're trouble already," Mal grumbles, but there's no bite to the words. She wants, wholly and completely, to be somewhere else. "The gates are locked for the night, you know." 

"No problem. Besides, you can just say you're on an important errand for the king and get through all the school security." 

"I could," Mal agrees. It's not like she's afraid of a little misplaced power when she can wield it. "But it's more fun to sneak out." 

Jay's grin is a bright flash in the darkness. "Hey, I've got a stupid idea." 

Mal grunts. "Shoot." 

"I could toss you over the fence." 

"The twenty foot fence." 

Jay shrugs. "It's more like twelve feet. At least according to the build specs." 

"Which you came across..." 

"Totally legally. They're in the library, if you know where to look for 'em." 

"You're impossible," Mal sighs. "Okay, once you toss me how are we getting you over?" 

"I'll jump." 

Over the twelve foot fence. "Sure, and when you break your leg falling back down?" 

"You'll magic me back together again. Humpty-dumpty this shit." 

"I don't think you actually know that rhyme."

"I know your rhymes," Jay shoots back. "You've got magic for levitation in the spellbook, yeah?" 

"I don't have the spellbook with me, wise guy." Mal points out. "I'm not even wearing my own shoes right now, what makes you think I memorized magic that'll get us over the fence?" 

Jay's eyes are too bright. She's going to have to use a spell just to hide him, and the magic will burn her out, and they'll get stuck on the wrong side of the fence, and-- that's what she would think, if she were Jane, or someone will less awesome magic powers. She's Mal of the Isle, and she's got this shit under control. 

"Dragon magic," Jay says cheerfully, like it's not late and they're not doing something totally against all of the rules they're supposed to be learning by sneaking out to the city. "I trust you, killer." 

"I could kill you," Mal grumbles, but she raises her hands and lets the magic gather there, blue-green sparks catching on her fingertips as she pulls the spell out from her mind. "Make this boy as light as air, hop the fence without a care." 

The magic falls over Jay in a net of shimmering sparks. They absorb in after a second, but the look suits him. Mal spares a thought for her sketchbook, which is tucked away in her locker with the rest of the books she hasn't had the time to touch in weeks, and the drawing her fingers are itching to make. "You can hop it now. You'll be light enough to jump over the fence with a regular leap." 

"Sweet!" Jay turns and drops to a knee. "Hop on." 

"Piggyback? Seriously?" 

"No better way to hop it together. Unless you'd rather I throw you over."

It's dangerous, and not just physically. Mal's been doing a pretty fucking good job at squashing down the feelings she's not supposed to have for her best friends, but this... 

She's emotionally illiterate, but Jay's offer to take her out tonight is like a picture book. Or one of those furniture instructions that doesn't even have language, just pictures to follow. 

He cares about you, Mal's traitorous brain whispers. More than your boyfriend does. 

Ugh. 

"Don't do anything stupid," Mal says, even as she's the one climbing on. "The spell should be good for a few leaps, but--" 

"Can't hear you, too busy blowing this place!" Jay grunts, pushing them both upright. "Let's fuckin' go--" 

"Don't--" 

"Hup!" 

Well. At least they're on the other side of the fence now, even if they crashed directly into the school holly bush on the landing. 

"Oww," Jay groans. "Might need a little more practice on that spell. I think there's something wrong with your magic assist on the landing." 

Mal yanks a leaf out of her arm. "There is no magic assist, dumbass. I tried to tell you, but somebody decided to go full steam ahead without listening to my warning. We're over now, and that's what matters." 

Jay mumbles something unintelligible. She can only assume it's rude, given the circumstances. Ugh, holly leaves are not the hot new accessory of the season, not even when they're doing a levitation act and sticking with a single thorn into her nose.

 "Speak up or shut up, jaybird." 

"I said--" It's impossible to tell in the darkness, but it looks like he might be blushing. The school grounds are supposed to have automatic lights, but a little wire cutting took care of that for them, and they're sneaking out under cover of darkness tonight. Mal's good at knowing her crew, but she can't be sure. "I, uh, you're important. To me." 

"Don't get mushy on me." 

"I'd never. Just. We're sneaking out together, and I wanted you to know, I'd never commit crimes and misdemeanors with anyone else." 

"Liar." 

Jay flashes her a smile, but he's doing the thing where he's got a hand tangled up in his hair, and it makes him look heart-wrenchingly sincere. "Yeah, but not to you." 

Oh, gods. "Don't go having feelings on me," Mal says, swallowing down the wobble that wants to creep into her voice. "I can't handle it. Not tonight, please." 

Just like that, Jay's posture melts into something different. Not quite his usual confidence, but something closer to normal. "Sure. No feelings. I can do that." 

"I don't--" Mal scrubs a hand over her eyes. "I didn't mean that you can't have feelings, just. I can't be the one to handle them tonight. I'll do whatever you want tomorrow, just-- can we just go be somewhere else tonight? I can't handle all this lovey stuff." 

Jay's shoulders melt even further. Mal can't look him in the eye, she can't, she won't-- 

He's smiling. His hand is so, so warm in hers. "Killer." 

"I'm sorry." 

He shrugs. "Whatever. You're allowed to have a bad night. I'll take you out, we can forget this ever happened tomorrow. Easy." 

"You should have someone better," Mal cries, and the horrible realization that she's crying sets in. "I don't want feelings for you!" 

"shit," Jay whispers, so quietly that Mal is sure she wasn't supposed to hear it at all. "Dragon, we don't have to do feelings like the Auradon brats. You can just be mine, and I can be yours, and we don't have to do any of the mushy shit that's freaking you out. We can just run away." 

"Together." 

"Yeah. Unless you spelled somebody else over the fence while I was distracted." 

Mal wipes the sleeve of her stolen hoodie across her nose. "Ugh, no. I don't use magic for just anybody." 

"See, there you go. I'm honored to be worthy of your magic, your royal evil-ness." 

“Fuck off,” Mal groans, and then before she can lose her nerve she steps close enough to cup his face in her hands. There’s no magic this time, but Jay’s skin is hot and soft under her palms, and it feels like there should be magic between them. ���I’m the worst girlfriend in the world, so I won’t ever put you through that. I’m selfish, and I’m flaky, and I can’t say that I love you, and I can’t ever promise that I’ll be able to say it.” 

Jay’s face is a thundercloud. “Did Ben say you needed to say it back?” 

“No, but— Ben’s not here right now. That’s the point. He’s not the person I run to when everything in the world is too much for me to handle. Ben’s sweet and all, but he’s not who I want to be with when I’m upset. Can you imagine what he’d say if I suggested running away from the grounds?” 

“What ho good chap, let me summon a car to escort you from the venerable grounds of our fine institution,” Jay picks up her thread, mocking. “And yeah, I guess when you put it that way, it’s pretty silly to think about Ben taking care of you.” 

Mal sucks in a breath. “Exactly. He’s sweet, but I don’t know how to deal with sweet, and it feels like the pressure of it is killing me. You know how to push back when I’m being a monster, and I don’t know how to fit that into one of the relationship boxes I’m supposed to use here.” 

Jay tips his head into her hands. “We could make our own box.” 

“We could.” 

“I wouldn’t ask you to be my girlfriend.” 

Mal leans in. “I know,” she tells the space between Jay’s parted lips. “I know.”