#make outs

It would be a lie to say things were going smoothly for the flame-chase. Even though the debate had allowed the flame-chase journey to continue, there was still plenty of unrest in the markets, and the Chrysos Heirs themselves seemed to be growing more uneasy. Dan Heng had the impression that things were going to blow up in his face soon, and that scared him. Not because he didn’t think he could handle it, but because he couldn’t lose his home again. He couldn’t stand to watch it be blown to pieces, to be picking up the remaining shards and clinging to them despite being cut. He’d do anything to protect Stelle.

But Stelle wouldn’t want that.

This woman he wanted to protect so fiercely that he’d lay down his own life for her… she’d do the same for him. She was no porcelain plate that would shatter if dropped. For heaven’s sake, she’d cheated death more times than he cared to count. And she’d be the voice of reason insisting they finish this mission through, for their newfound friends and for the Astral Express. It was the nature of the trailblaze.

“Lord Lygus, it would behoove you to remember that my wife is currently one of the holders of the core flames.”

“Yes, I am aware. Considering your esteemed companion is currently tied to Amphoreus, she would be required to renounce her status before I grant her passage back to the stars. You would be free to go, with or without her.”

Dan Heng saw red, his fist clenching.

“Marriage is only fruitful should both parties walk along the same path,” Lygus continued. “Should they diverge without hope of finding a crossroad… divorce is a reasonable solution.”

That word made Dan Heng’s stomach churn. Even though their marriage was in name only, the thought of telling Stelle he wanted to willingly separate from her, to denounce her as his wife, made him want to vomit. He fought to temper his anger as he responded, “It is clear to me now you do not comprehend the value of emotions or attachments in your equations.”

“The introduction of Pathos does upset the solidity of Logos, I will admit. Pathos is the most unstable and unpredictable mode of persuasion, yet no less relevant. Am I to understand that you do not see divorce as an option?”

“I do not.”

“By that logic, you would stay by her side even to your own destruction?”

“Yes.”

Lygus hummed. “Then I shall take that into account.”

Before Dan Heng could come up with a retort, the hair at his nape bristled. They were not alone.

He summoned his spear just in time to watch four masked strangers appear. “Is this a trap? Is that why you accompanied me here?”

“Please don't misunderstand, Lord Dan Heng. As the Theoros, I have no allegiance to their plans nor am I obliged to obstruct them. I am neutral.”

Neutral, he claimed, all while trying to insinuate Dan Heng should divorce his wife and leave Amphreous. While sitting on the council of elders yet claiming to hold enough power to bypass the powers of titans.

“Just to confirm: if things turn ugly later... will you help?

“I will not. As I said, I remain neutral.”

Dan Heng snorted, not bothering to hide his opinion as he readied his stance against these assassins. Lygus may be a neutral party in this fight, but a true neutral, he was not. This Antikytheren had his own plans, and Dan Heng worried they went against both the flame-chase and the council.

~~~

Lady Goldweaver deceased. Please return to the holy city at once.

That text sent shockwaves through the entirety of Okhema. Even Stelle, an outworlder, felt those shockwaves as powerfully as any other Okheman citizen. While she and Phainon were busy dealing with those “cleaners,” just what had been happening back at Marmoreal Palace?

The ring on her left hand suddenly felt cold. Dan Heng had gone out to the train car today, meaning there was a likelihood that the cleaners had come after him, too. Was he okay? Not that he wasn’t fully capable, but a numbers game sometimes made all the difference.

So when she saw him at the entrance to the baths talking to Krateros, her heart sang in relief. She couldn’t help but run up to him, arms outstretched. Even though she knew he wasn’t a fan of PDA, surely she’d allow him this. “Dan Heng!”

He turned around just in time for him to catch her.

“I’m glad you’re—”

He didn’t give her a chance to finish before grabbing the back of her head, forcing her to look up so he could slam his lips to hers in a fiery, possessive sort of kiss.

… well, damn. She should be in danger more often.

They parted with an audible gasp, Stelle’s chest burning as she scrambled for air. To be fair, those two might not have been related. Breathless as she was, her chest was warm for an entirely different reason that may or may not have to do with the way Dan Heng was possessively clinging to her, his arm wrapped tightly around her back and his fingers digging into the flesh at her hip.

“You’re okay,” he spoke, a statement that demanded confirmation.

“Y-yeah, I’m…” She released a breath. “Well, I’m fine after that. Wow.”

Krateros cleared his throat.

That brought Stelle back to reality. Much to her disappointment, Dan Heng allowed her out of his embrace. However, his hand on her lower back still lingered, his fingers clinging firmly to her hip like he didn’t want to let her go.

She was fine with that, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she did wonder what caused that kind of reaction out of him. After all, he’d just laid claim to her in public with no provocation on her part.

Krateros was the one to explain what had happened, from finding Dan Heng surrounded by cleaners to Aglaea having fallen from the Heroes’ Bath. The more Stelle heard, the sicker she felt. Dan Heng’s hold on her was no longer solely possessive but rather the pillar of support keeping her upright.

They headed to the Heroes’ Bath to speak with both Hyacine and Tribbie in hopes to shed more light on the situation, but it was doubtful the pain would ease. If anything, Stelle could only see it growing worse with more information, like a knife digging deeper and twisting around. She’d grown fond of all the Chrysos Heirs since arriving, but to lose one of them like this with no warning whatsoever felt like a baseball bat to the chest.

When they arrived, Hyacine was the first to greet them. Her eyes were redder than her dress, clear proof she’d been crying.

“You’re back,” she cried, hurrying up to them.

Dan Heng was the first to approach her. “Are you all right?”

Hyacine’s smile was warbly. “I… I’m fine.”

Before she could break, Dan Heng laid a comforting hand on her head. It was like the button that caused the tears to shed, streaking down her pink cheeks. She held her sleeve against her face, hiding the tears, but when that grew too much, she leaned into Dan Heng and let loose a few sniffles.

Stelle’s heart broke for Hyacine. It was evident she was trying so hard to keep it together. Apparently, Dan Heng was the catalyst that caused her to break. If Stelle didn’t know Dan Heng was head over heels for her, she might be a bit jealous. Instead, she knew Dan Heng had forged a bond with Hyacine, and Hyacine had leaned on Dan Heng as a friend in return. Dan Heng’s actions now were simply his bodyguard switch being flipped. He’d do the same for March or anyone on the Astral Express, really.

With a steadying breath, Hyacine straightened again. “Sorry,” she murmured.

“Take your time,” Dan Heng assured. “The loss of a mentor is very hard.”

Hyacine swiped her eyes. “Declaring her death was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do as a doctor.” Taking another deep breath, she turned to Phainon.  “Lord Phainon… don’t push yourself. I know how close you were to Aglaea, and I know how hard this must be now that you're carrying a heavier burden. Please, don’t fall...”

“It's fine," he said. "I can handle it.”

Yet Stelle could tell those words were a front. Phainon would push himself to the brink and then a step further. She leaned over, bumping their shoulders together. “She means it,” Stelle warned.

A weak smile crossed his lips. “Come on, Partner, you know me by now.”

“I do, which is the problem.”

He hesitated, clearly unable to come up with a retort. Instead, he turned back to Hyacine. “How are Tribbie and Trinnon?”

Hyacine shook her head. “Not well. You should go see them. They need someone with them right now.”

“Go rest, Hyacine. You deserve it.”

“I’ll try,” she said.

Dan Heng gave her a pat on the head. “Remember the tea you gave me? I would recommend a hot cup of that.”

“I think that would be wise. Thanks, Dannie. I’ll see everyone later.”

Stelle's heart broke watching Hyacine leave the baths. She looked even shorter than she was, her shoulders hunched over under the weight of sorrow. She had such a vibrant, bubbly personality that was infectious. This felt as though that part of her had temporarily died with Aglaea.

Stelle looked to Dan Heng, who watched Hyacine with concern. Surely his thoughts mirrored hers.

"Let's go see the others," she said.

With a sigh, Dan Heng turned toward the gardens. "Let's."

They headed away from the baths, Phainon in the lead. Stelle stuck behind with Dan Heng, who had slipped his hand into hers. “You’re really okay?” he asked her. "After crossing the cleaners?"

“Yeah. You?”

“Not a scratch.”

She smiled. “Let’s keep it that way.”

When they arrived at the garden, Phainon approached Tribbie and Trinnon. But before he asked if they were okay, before he could apologize, he bent a knee, and the three huddled together in tears.

Dan Heng and Stelle hung back, allowing them to have their moment. Though, Stelle’s hand tightened on Dan Heng’s.

After some time, the trio parted, Tribbie directing Phainon to the side. He marched away, a scroll in hand.

That’s when Stelle and Dan Heng approached. Like Phainon, Stelle knelt, taking the remaining duo into her arms. They’d cried themselves out on Phainon’s shoulders, so they didn’t do much more than sniffle on Stelle's. But a few extra tears escaped them when Dan Heng came to lay a comforting hand on both their heads.

“Thank you,” Tribbie said.

“Both of you,” Trinnon agreed.

“We’re so sorry,” Stelle said.

“We knew,” Tribbie sniffled. “We knew this would happen.”

Dan Heng spoke up, “That doesn’t make accepting it any easier.”

“It doesn’t.”

After a moment, they pulled away. Stelle glanced to the side, spying Phainon still reading a scroll while his hands scrubbed at his face in a motion that could be mistaken for trying to relieve a stress headache instead of swiping at tears. Knowing the weight of the world was on his shoulders, he might be trying to accomplish both.

“We have a confession to make,” Tribbie spoke. She looked halfway composed now.

Stelle asked, “Do I dare ask what it is?”

Tribbie and Trinnon shared a guilty look before Trinnon confessed. “Aglaea knew you two weren’t actually married.”

“Before you get mad,” Tribbie said. “She only told us. The others don’t know.”

Stelle’s heart skipped a nervous beat. That had not been the confession she’d been expecting. Yet, the more she thought about it, she couldn’t say she was surprised. “What gave it away?”

“Being the titan of romance, Agy can see threads of emotion. But more specifically, she could see threads of love. There are eight different types, ranging from familial to love of others to romantic. From the threads connecting your Vena Amoris, she knew you two were not married.”

Beside Stelle, Dan Heng let out a disappointed hum.

Stelle couldn't blame him. She felt the same. Not disappointed at Aglaea, per se, but for naively believing they had gotten away with their lie. “Well… so much for that.”

“We’re not mad,” Trinnon assured. “We figure you had your reasons for doing so. You don’t have to explain.”

“I think it’s only fair we do,” Dan Heng said. “When we crashed on this planet, we had no idea what we were getting into. We agreed that pretending to be married would give certain protections. I thought that having traveled with Stelle for so long, we could at least make a convincing act.”

“The fact we agreed to start dating immediately before arriving in Okhema helped,” Stelle chimed in, daring to bump her hip against his.

“Then Agy’s explanation makes sense,” Tribbie said. “The threads she saw binding the two of you were called Storge and Pragma, with only a hint of Eros.”

“Storge is familial love,” Trinnon explained. “Pragma is a love that is built through compromise and companionship. A long-term love. It’s Eros that is the romantic love, and that was the love that hadn't yet bloomed.”

Stelle withheld a grimace. “Wow, so we had no chance of pulling the wool over her eyes.”

“To your credit,” Tribbie said. “You successfully deceived the rest of us. We never would have guessed. There were times we even wondered if Agy was wrong, but every time we commented on it, Agy would simply say ‘That’s because Eros is growing.’”

“Well, if it makes you feel less crazy, we are engaged.”

Tribbie and Trinnon gave soft smiles. “Then I think the gifts Agy left behind for you will have a use after all.”

Before Stelle could question it, Phainon then appeared at their side again. “Dan Heng,” he asked, his voice rough with tears. “Could I ask a favor of you?”

Dan Heng didn’t hesitate. “What do you need?”

“I need you to get a message to Krateros.”

Stelle didn’t have a chance to listen in when Tribbie and Trinnon each took one of her hands and led her away.

“We won’t tell Phainon,” Tribbie said. “Come. Agy left the gifts with the Garmentmaker.”

Stelle followed them over to the side, where a garmentmaker floated solemnly. On the table at its side were two boxes stacked on top of each other. On top rested a golden butterfly, one of the several Stelle had rounded up around Okhema.

“These were gifts from Agy,” Trinnon said. “But… we feel we must thank you, too.”

“For?”

“Agy knew she was losing hold on her humanity for many years, so she always sought out things to help her keep a grip on what little humanity she had left. You and Dan Heng were one of those things. To her, you were a puzzle, with your different loves so entwined yet changing. She enjoyed watching your love for each other evolve. So even if you weren’t aware of it, thank you for being a tie that kept her grounded. She was rooting for you two.”

Stelle didn’t know how to feel about Aglaea being their biggest shipper. But then again, maybe that was an honor for the holder of the coreflame of romance to look down so favorably upon them. It felt like a good omen.

“That’s why she was hurrying to try and get this done,” Trinnon finished. “She spent many sleepless nights finishing her last garments, meant just for you.”

Stelle looked over at the boxes again, her eyes wide. “Wait, so… those are outfits that the Lady Goldweaver, the ultimate seamstress who stopped sewing ages ago, made for us?”

Tribbie giggled weakly. “She may have stopped working for the masses, but if something caught her eye, she wouldn’t be able to resist. It’s just… those garments never really made it public.”

Stelle looked down at the gifts, ones that took on a whole new weight. “I’m… really honored. Dan Heng would say the same.”

“We hope you like them,” Tribbie said.

“We thought they were quite pretty,” Trinnon added.

“I’m sure you’re right.”

Tribbie glanced behind Stelle. “Snowy looks like he wants to talk.”

“Then go,” Stelle said. “I’ll leave you all be. But if you ever need a friend, I’m always there to talk.”

“Thanks, Little Gray. For everything.”

She watched as Tribbie and Trinnon walked over to Phainon, their energy far subdued from usual. Stelle reached for the boxes, but when she picked them up, the butterfly leaped into the air. No, not just one, but two, fluttering in a helix up into the sky. They'd tricked her.

Gifts in hand, Stelle departed the garden, her heart heavy but curiosity growing. A part of her feared that whatever was in these boxes would make her cry, but she also thought there was no better way to honor Aglaea than to open the gifts and treasure them.

She met back up with Dan Heng at the lower level of the baths.

"What did Phainon need?" she asked.

"Phainon intends to give a speech tomorrow, so he asked me ask Krateros to organize the Ohkeman guards and inform the people."

"Looks like things are going to pick up here soon."

"I think this is going to force our hand and collect the last two coreflames earlier than anticipated."

"Makes sense. Looks like we're going to be busy soon."

Dan Heng nodded, his eyes drifting to the boxes in her hands. Without a word, he took one of the boxes. "Are these from Aglaea?"

"Apparently, they're her last works. Just for us.”

Dan Heng’s gaze softened. “That is… very kind of her.”

“Don’t you think it would be nice to open them?”

With his agreement, they walked back to their room together. Once inside, Stelle set the box she held on the bed, then plopped down on the edge. Her knees just couldn’t seem to support her any longer.

“Are you okay?” Dan Heng asked, taking a seat beside her.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m getting really tired of these kinds of goodbyes.”

Dan Heng wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. She, however, took it as an invitation to crawl into his lap. He put up no resistance, simply accepting her hug when she curled up against him.

“We’ve been here so long,” he said. “It’s become easy to become attached to the people here.”

“Too easy,” Stelle agreed. “And I know I should be used to goodbye but… I’m not. It’s just not fair.”

There was no retort of ‘life not being fair’ because ultimately, they both knew that. It didn’t make it any easier to accept. Dan Heng just hugged her tighter, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Speaking of kiss…

“Hey, what was that kiss earlier?” she asked. “Not that I’m complaining, but that’s… very unlike you.”

He sighed. “You remember I was going out with Lygus to inspect the car?”

“Yeah. Something happen?”

He tensed. “He said that he could provide a passage out of Amphoreus if we wished.”

Stelle pulled away, her eyes wide. “How? Aquila guards the sky.”

“He said he could pass the titan’s judgment.”

Stelle scoffed. “Because that’s not sketchy or anything.”

“I still don’t know what his angle is. He says he’s a neutral party, but I worry that he has his own objectives independent of both the flame-chase and the Council of Elders.”

“Great. More mysteries. You didn’t take him up on that offer, right?”

“No. His condition would be we have to stop our assistance of the flame-chase.”

“Yeah, we’re already this far. And I’m kinda a wielder of time, so like…”

“That’s why,” Dan Heng grumbled, his voice taking on a growly tone. “When I reminded him of our ties, he said we would have to cut them. And if you didn’t… then he insinuated that I should divorce you and leave myself.”

The word sent her gut spiraling into knots. “Please tell me you told him to go to hell.”

“Close enough. That said, I don’t particularly feel comfortable with the thought of you being alone with Lygus.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Hopefully the next time we face him, I’m by your side. We’ll see if he has the audacity to say that to my face.”

“I don’t plan on meeting him again without you.”

“Good.” She scoffed. “Divorce. As if. You marry me; you’re stuck with me for life.”

“I should be the one saying that to you,” he said, referencing an earlier conversation where he informed her Vidyadharas, being scions of the permanence, mate for life. “If you find those terms unacceptable—”

She didn’t let him finish. She grabbed him by the cheeks and kissed him with a similar fervor he’d kissed her.

“Don’t even,” she warned, pressing kisses to both his cheeks and then the tip of his nose. She loved the idea of being this man’s life partner, of having him by her side through all sorts of Trailblaze missions and chaos or just in the quiet moments in the archives. She wanted it more than words could describe. If she could, she would mark him herself right now. Alas, he was the one setting the pace for their relationship. He was the one who’d been hesitant. Because she loved him so much, she was willing to follow his lead. “By the way, you’re absolutely allowed to kiss me like that whenever.”

“I prefer to keep those moments private. They don’t need to be seen.”

“Only when someone tells you to divorce me.”

“I have learned there are exceptions.”

“Then I’ll keep that in mind that PDA from you means you’ve got tea to spill or an ass to kick.”

That got a snort of amusement out of him.

She pressed one last kiss to his forehead, playfully claiming him as hers, before turning her attention to the two gifts by their side. “We should open those. I’m really curious.”

Dan Heng looked between the boxes, each white wrapped in a wide, gold ribbon and tied with a bow. Under one of the ribbons was a small, cream-colored scroll.

He took that out first, unraveling it and reading it off.

Dear Trailblazers,

I write this with the utmost regret we could not have more time together. However, the Flame-chase Journey had already written my destiny, and I cannot oppose it. To do so would be opposing my life’s work. So I have no choice but to embrace it with open arms, even though that embrace will cause far more pain than comfort. If you must cry for me, make it brief. I have lived a fuller life than I deserve. Furthermore, I do not want to hold anyone back from moving forward into the future. It might be too much to ask for, but I ask anyway.

I confess I knew about your fictitious marriage. From the moment Stelle and I first talked in the Heroes’ Bath, I saw the threads that bound your two hearts were not that of a married couple. That is not to say married couples always have the same threads. Love comes in many forms, and no two relationships are exactly the same. But the one thing all married couples possess is a certain glow to the thread of Eros (the thread indicating romantic love) that proves two souls are bound in the deepest sense. On the contrary, your thread of Eros was tentative, indicating a budding romance with no physical ties between you. Yet, your bonds of Storge and Pragma (familial love and long-lasting balanced love respectively) were already so brilliant. I couldn’t resist the temptation to watch your hearts grow closer and your romance blossom. I am sorry to have sneaked as many looks as I did, but it was one of the last true joys I found.

Although presenting a façade is hardly a way to foster true friendship, I understand you two must have had your reasons. I never saw a need to ask, particularly as you two proved yourselves to be trustworthy allies over time. Truth be told, I did wonder if I should reveal myself, particularly toward the end when your threads of Eros glowed so beautifully. I had wanted to offer to be an officiant for your wedding, to allow you two the opportunity to let those lies you’d spun become reality. Alas, I feared that should I do so, you would begin to ask too many questions, and I could not risk any of my plans being revealed.

I wish you both a happy marriage. I wish I could be there to see it, to bestow blessings befitting Mnestia upon you two on your wonderful day. We will have to settle for those wishes to be written here instead of spoken in person. Different you may be, Romance and Reason have always been drawn to each other. The heart and the mind may seem at odds, but together, they guide one body. When the two achieve a balance, the body thrives. Such is the case with you two. Dan Heng, the voice of reason, may you guide Stelle with wisdom through both your trailblaze missions as well as your daily life. Stelle, the voice of romance, may you remind Dan Heng to revel in the moments he leads you through. I’m certain your union will only enrich each other’s lives. Such is the fate of Romance and Reason. As far as I know, there are no exceptions to this rule. Not the previous titans, and not the current. Not even you two.

Now, for a most selfish request. Please support the Flame-chase Journey until the very end. Phainon will need your help. I know he is capable of great things, and he is ready to take on this task, but the heart takes the hardest of hits when it comes to loss. I don’t want him to be left alone. So if you please, watch over him.

I wish you a safe journey back home. May your travels among the stars be rich with adventure, joy, and love.

Sincerely, Aglaea

Stelle felt her eyes burn, and she swiped at the tears forming. Aglaea’s words were so heartfelt, so genuinely kind. Though Stelle knew the kind of cold detachment Aglaea was capable of, it was moments like these Stelle wondered if Aglaea truly had lost as much of her humanity as she claimed.

She looked toward the gifts, happy for the distraction. “Am I opening my gift first?”

“I would assume so.”

“Well, would you like to?”

Dan Heng shook his head. “No, you will get more joy out of it.”

“Can’t say I didn’t offer.” She grabbed one of the boxes, the taller one, looked for a name. She'd happened to guess correctly, her name written on the tall box in her hands.

Carefully, she undid the golden ribbon holding it together, then pulled the top off the white box. Inside was a folded white garment, but she could see the shimmer of silver and gold folded within. She pulled it out, unfolding the fabric to reveal…

Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes wide. A wedding dress.

“Oh, Aglaea.” She felt like she was going to start crying all over again. “It’s so pretty.”

The dress was sleeveless with a high neck. The curves spoke of a highly fitted dress, one that would hug her hips before flaring out. What would March call this? A mermaid fit? That seemed about right. A slit ran all the way up to the thigh, landing right where the slirt flared. From the straps flowed two long pieces of fabric that shimmered like starlight, draping to the ground. They almost looked like wings, particularly with the way metallic thread ran along them mimicking the veins in a butterfly’s wings.

Sliding off Dan Heng's lap, she stood before him, pressing the dress to her front as though to get an idea of how it would look. She ran her hand down the fabric, savoring the silky feel. “Okay, I can’t resist.” She turned it around to show Dan Heng the back. “It laces in the back. Help me get it on.”

He blinked at those words. Only then did she realize he’d been frozen, staring at her. “Oh, um.” He cleared his throat. “Okay. Go put it on. I’ll help you with the back.”

Excitement flooded her as she skipped behind the room partition, dress in one hand and box in the other. After all, the box seemed too tall for the dress to be the only thing inside.

“Oh, hey!” she called out. “You should open yours! I bet it’s a groom’s outfit.”

“That would make sense.”

“Surprise me!”

He sighed. “Alright.”

With a smile, she slipped behind the partition. Tossing the dress over the top of the partition, she turned back toward the box. A closer look revealed that there was a false bottom. Once removed, she was greeted with a note. Underneath that was a layer of golden accessories.

She turned her attention to the note, one covered in elegant, looping handwriting.

Love comes in many forms, blooming and changing, then emerging from its cocoon to its full brilliance. That is why Mnestia and butterflies have always been intertwined. May your wings take you among the stars of the heavens safely.

But butterflies always need a place to land. That is why we are drawn to the safety of Cerces tree. Don’t forget to come down from the stars every once in a while.

I hope you enjoy the dress, as well as the accompaniments.

She looked at the dress again. So they really were butterfly wings. Aglaea had not skimped on the Mnestia references.

Not that she minded.

Setting the note aside, she pulled out the other gifts one at a time. First, a golden circlet made of leaves, but on the back where the two branches crossed ends was yet another butterfly.

Then the shoes. These held no butterfly reference. Instead, they were made of a series of complex golden straps. They were so intricate and detailed compared to the simple paneling of her dress.

Then there were a few gold and silver bracelets, ones in various sizes that she realized would trail up both her arms. Lastly was one last piece of gauzy, lacy fabric. A veil, maybe?

She pulled it out…

No. Not a veil.

Not even close.

Her face flamed at the little at the lacy negligee, one so see-through it was hard to imagine it covered anything. But then again… that was the point. Though she and Dan Heng talked about marriage, Stelle knew it was really a euphemism at this point. An official marriage would have to be done when they got back to the Express and signed whatever IPC documents were necessary to make it legal. Stelle was happy to do that, but until then, their marriage here really came down to the vows they were already living out and… well, the ‘consummation’ part.

It wasn’t like Stelle didn’t want it. The longer they lived here and the more moments they shared together—moments like seeing Dan Heng bare-chested in the bath, waking up in the morning in the morning tangled in his embrace, sending him off on explorations with a good luck kiss, or having him begin to flirt back with her when she made playful passes—only fueled her desires. She was beginning to struggle reining in those errant thoughts of Dan Heng pushing her to the bed and having his way with her. To be wrapped up in those arms. To let hands wander wherever they wanted. To not have to keep their kisses tame. To be completely vulnerable yet safe in Dan Heng’s embrace. She knew what she was asking. She was ready for that step. So why did Aglaea's gift of a saucy wedding nightwear set light her cheeks ablaze?

That’s when a line in her other letter sparked to the forefront of her mind. About Eros not burning brightly, about physical ties…

Mortification burned deep within her chest. She wondered if somewhere up above them, Aglaea was laughing at her. Aeons, the titan of romance knew way more about Stelle’s sex life than she had ever wished they would.

~~~

While Stelle was behind the partition, Dan Heng opened his own gift. Confirming his suspicions, a suit lay in the bottom.

He first pulled out the groom’s outfit, laying it on the bed to examine. It was a tunic and pants with little gold and silver embellishes on them, both cords and embroidery. But it was the sash, one that wrapped around his waist and draped like a cloak down the back of the tunic, that truly set it apart. It mirrored Stelle’s dress, glittering silver and gold, but unlike her dress, the bottom of his drapery was covered in leaves like that of Cerces’ tree. It was like a tree reaching out toward the stars.

But the box seemed too tall for this outfit to be all the contents. He pulled out a partition, revealing a note.

In the pursuit of knowledge and wisdom, you must constantly be absorbing the world around you. As you grow, you will soon find yourself more stable as you spread your roots. This is why Cerces and trees have always been intertwined. May you always find the answers you are searching for on your journey among the stars.

But even the greatest of trees get lonely, so do not object when a butterfly wants to make their home among your safe branches.

I hope you like the garments. Furthermore, I hope the garter you were searching for is to your liking. I wish I’d had the time to get your opinion on it before now.

Underneath the note lay a pair of shoes, a golden leaf circlet, and a vivid teal object. He grabbed that first, unfolding the woman’s garter to look it over. He recalled the brief conversation he’d had with Aglaea. It had started out as a simple recommendation for a seamstress and embroiderer. Upon revealing what he wanted, hidden under the guise of simply wishing to get a replacement present for Stelle, it had been Aglaea who’d offered to take on this project request.

He ran his hands over the delicate silk embroidered with lotus flowers, silver circles surrounding them like little ripples of water. A vidyadharan engagement gift: something with lotus blooms. Though the garter was an unconventional choice, it would suit Stelle better than a more traditional hairpin.

The dress Stelle draped over the room partition suddenly disappeared. His cue to dress in his own outfit.

He was halfway dressed when Stelle asked if he was ready.

“Almost,” he answered. It was taking some time to figure out the sash, weaving it into the gold cords around the tunic and making sure it was secure around his waist.

Finally, he got everything fastened, smoothing out the fabric with a brush of his hands. “Alright. I’m ready.”

“Turn around,” she told him. “This is basically the first look.”

The first look? What was she thinking of now? “Don’t you need help lacing up the dress?”

“I mean… yeah, but I did the best I could on my own, and the first look is important.”

“Is it really?”

“Yes! March is always freaking out over how important it is when we watch reality shows. It’s basically the moment the groom sees his bride for the first time in the dress, and you can’t take it back.”

“You do realize reality shows aren’t reality, correct?”

“I mean… yeah but…” her words drifted off, her voice meek when she continued. “I kinda get it now. I want to see your reaction.”

She’d see his reaction just fine when she appeared around the partition. But if this was what she wanted, there was no reason for him not to acquiesce. “Then I won’t look until you tell me.”

“You turned around?”

“Yes.”

He could hear Stelle shuffle out from the partition behind him. And he was vividly aware of every step she took to close the distance.

Then she laid a hand on his shoulder, his nerves lighting on fire. His heart hammered in his chest, but he didn’t turn around. He’d made a grave miscalculation on just how much this would affect him. Logically, it was just a dress. Yet he suddenly realized this moment was far more than that. 

“Cerces tree,” she commented, toying with the capelet that draped down from one shoulder, one that sparkled with silver and gold.

“Aglaea seemed very fixated on that metaphor,” he said.

“It’s kinda growing on me.”

Her hand on his shoulder was killing him. Maybe there was something to this ‘first look’ nonsense. “Stelle, may I see my bride?”

Her hand fell away as she took several steps back. “Yes.”

He turned around, only to fall speechless at the sight of the woman before him.

It wasn’t like Dan Heng was ignorant of the fact that Stelle was a woman, that she had feminine charms, that she had a pleasing figure or beautiful features. But in that dress, she was no longer that wild raccoon that took on the galaxy like a whirlwind. She was every bit a stunning woman who could take his breath away.

“What do you think?” she asked, hopeful yet hesitant.

He didn’t even know if he was thinking at the moment. He tried to take her in, the way that dress hugged her figure, the way the golden leaflet crown matched her eyes, the wings that hung behind her, the signature slit skirt that reached up to her thigh.

His eyes lingered there a second longer than they probably should have, only then did he realize why. Her garter, the teal band he’d grown so used to seeing—and more recently, sneaking glimpses at—was nowhere to be found.

His grip tightened around the embroidered garter in his hand.

“Stelle,” he finally said. “You’re beautiful.”

Finally, she relaxed, her shoulders easing as a smile split her face. “You think?”

“I do.”

“You look really handsome, too,” she said. “I mean… you always look handsome but…” She cut herself off. “I’m gonna not ramble. I’m just gonna say… Aglaea knew what she was doing.”

“She did,” Dan Heng agreed. “She was not called ‘Lady Goldweaver’ for nothing.”

“Yeah.” Stelle wrung her fingers together shyly. “I guess if she was kind enough to make us, like, the nicest wedding attire ever, I can’t be too mad that she figured us out.”

Dan Heng couldn’t either. His emotions were all over the place, lighting his nerves on fire and stealing his breath away while also flooding him with joy. Today alone, he’d been faced with the prospect of divorcing Stelle, then once again, he was faced with loss, with death, and his fear over losing Stelle grew all-encompassing. Now, he was standing in front of his bride, the prospect of forever demanding attention.

He was supposed to be Cerces in this pair, but right now, he felt much like Mnestia. Stelle was here, she was safe, and the longer they waited to take that step into forever, the more distance they’d have to put between them. All he wanted was her close by his side, and he’d do anything to secure her position there. Even if it meant taking a terrifying risk.

“Stelle.” He took a step closer. “If I asked you to marry me now… what would you say?”

Her eyes widened, a lovely little blush tinting her cheeks. The desire to kiss her suddenly doubled.

But then she glanced away, pain pinching her brow.

His stomach sank.

“Dan Heng,” she spoke, regret weakening her voice, “if you’d asked me earlier, I probably would have jumped at the chance. But now… I don’t think it’s the best time.”

“May I ask why?”

She took a deep breath, nibbling at her lip nervously. “Because much as I’m mad at Lygus, he brings up a good point. I’m the coreflame holder of time. Anaxa said that the coreflame holders of today become the titans of tomorrow, right? Meaning that unless we can find someone to take over soon…” She paused, as though she didn’t want to finish that sentence.

Which was fine. He didn’t want to hear it.

“And with Aglaea gone,” she continued. “I have the feeling… things are gonna start going really fast. Like you said, Phainon has two coreflames left to gather, then… yeah. So it’s not like I want to say no to you. But… ugh, let’s call it as it is: you said vidyadharas mate for life. So if we make love, only for me to disappear…" She shook her head. "I can’t do that to you, Dan Heng. I just... I can't be the one to hurt you."

He hissed a sigh through gritted teeth. “Since when have you been the rational one?”

She shrugged. “Maybe Cerces and Mnestia are bound to rub off on each other. That’s what makes them so perfect.”

He was loathe to admit he agreed. She'd brought so much into his life, opening up a whole different world for him. He couldn't imagine his life without her now.

He took her into his arms, holding her tight. She returned the embrace, laying her head on his shoulder and nuzzling his neck as she clung to him. He stroked her hair. And for the second time that day, planted a hand at the nape of her neck and tilted her head upward in order to kiss her. This kiss was much tamer, but not any less needed as it turned from one kiss to two then three. With each one, Stelle melted in his arms a little more.

Like a comet out of the blue, it hit him that it was already too late. His heart had chosen his mate, whether they’d been intimate or not. Losing her wasn’t an option to him.

But not respecting her wishes for him was also unfathomable. It seemed they'd just have to compromise.

“Then,” he whispered against her lips. “If you’re going to be the rational one, then let me be impulsive.” And with that, he took a step back, getting down on one knee.

She gasped, her eyes instantly taking on a glassy sheen. “Dan Heng—”

“Marry me.” He presented the garter to her. “Or at least… agree to it.”

“Idiot,” she scoffed, tears gathering at the edges of her eyes. “I’m not going to say no. But what about—”

“We’re not going to worry about that right now,” he interrupted. “I refuse to accept we won’t find a solution. But… if on the off-chance we can’t defy the odds this time, then I want to mark you, so you realize you will always be mine.” He ran a thumb over one of the embroidered lotus flowers. "Do you remember what I told you about vidyadharan engagement gifts?"

"Yeah."

"It's not traditional, but... it suits you."

She blinked, allowing a tear to escape. She caught it quickly, swiping it away.

"So, will you marry me?"

Then, she smiled, and his nervousness eased. “Yes.”

He felt himself grinning, too, even while his heart squeezed painfully. “May I put it on you?”

Pink bloomed on her cheeks. “Suggestive much?”

“Possibly.”

He got a certain satisfaction over watching her falter when faced with his confidence. He didn't know how he managed to catch the overconfident raccoon off-guard, but it felt like a win.

“Well," she agreed, a pleased twinkle in her eye. "Who am I to refuse?”

He stood, motioning toward the bed. “Sit.”

She walked to the bed, the wings of her dress fluttering behind her with each step. She looked like a fairy that belonged among the stars.

When she sat, she took care to settle herself into place, ensuring her dress nor her wings were caught or crumpled. It gave her a certain elegant air that once again took Dan Heng’s breath away. It never ceased to surprise him what this woman was capable of.

He loved seeing all these new sides of her. He wanted to find new sides of her until there were no more left to uncover.

Once again, he knelt before her, thankful for the slit in her dress that afforded him the ability to do this easily. With all the care in the world, he took hold of her ankle, carefully sliding the garter up her leg. He grew hyper-aware of the way her breathing quickened, her muscles twitching under his touch as he slid the garter to her upper thigh.

There was a scar on her leg, the one he’d sewn up after Nikador’s battle. He had no idea how it had transferred from her memory form to her physical one, but it pained him all the same. He trailed his fingers down the scar, relishing the way she reacted to his touch. He only followed the scar to her knee, then dared to curl his fingers under it. She rewarded him with a soft gasp, her knee jumping in reaction. He wanted to press kisses along her thigh, under her garter. He wanted to leave a mark, to make a statement. But the rational part of him kept that thought pinned down. Instead, he laid a soft kiss to her knee.

When he looked up, meeting her gaze, he was hit by a desperate urge to kiss her anew. The rosy flush of her cheeks set off her pink lips. And her eyes were warm honey beckoning him to drown in.

She heaved a sigh, muttering under her breath. “Dammit, Dan Heng.” Then, in a clear voice, she demanded, “Screw it. Kiss me.”

He was happy to oblige. He launched up just as she threw her arms over his shoulders. His hand still gripped the back of her thigh, pulling it upwards as further leverage to tilt her back against the bed, relishing the way she clung to him as their lips came together in fervent passion.

When they parted with a gasp, he trailed kisses down her cheek to her over her pulse point. With each kiss he pressed there, he could feel her heart racing faster. But the mere fact it was beating, proving she was alive and well and here, was enough to satisfy him. As he kissed lower down her neck, she tossed her head back in pleasure, her body arched up against him. He gripped her knee tighter, earning a moan from her.

“You’re making this really difficult on me,” she whined.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, his lips hovering above her collarbone. However hard it was on his sanity, he wouldn’t kiss her again until she gave him the okay.

“I don’t want to. I’m scared to leave you.”

“I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”

He raised his head, and their eyes locked, allowing him to see tears forming in hers.

“Can I tell a secret?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“I might have been tempted by Lygus’ offer to get off this planet, to throw all this away if it meant I could be with you. Does that make me a terrible person?”

He shook his head. “I was tempted, too.”

“Do you regret not taking it?”

“Tempting as it is, I think both of us would have regretted taking that offer.”

She frowned. “I think you’re right. Pisses me off.”

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed, somehow shrugging. “I am, too.”

They stayed there a moment, Dan Heng breaking the stillness by brushing her hair behind her ear. Her hair was wild as ever, flaring out in every direction like a silver halo.

“I’m also sorry,” she said, “for telling you to get off me before I do something I regret.”

Though a part of him was disappointed, another more rational part of him understood her desires a little too well. He pushed off of her, his fingers trailing over her skin as he pulled his hand away from her knee. Without her so close, a chill crept over him as he helped her stand up again. “Go change,” he instructed. “But leave the garter on.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on ever taking it off.”

He smiled, a possessive part in him cheering.

“Can I tempt you with one last little thing?” She turned her back toward him, pulling her hair over her shoulder to reveal the long corset-like ties that shaped the dress to her figure. “Help me loosen the ties of my dress?”

Aeons, she was really going to test his patience. “If I must.”

“You can make me pay later. It’s just easier if you help.”

He began pulling at the laces, loosening them bit by bit. He was intently more focused on the task than he knew he should be, to the point he noticed the panel under the dress sliding enough to reveal a little line of skin on Stelle’s back.

Mark her.

He knew vidyadharas were possessive. It was something he never really understood, always having things taken from him since the moment he was reborn. Stelle was the first thing that had ever tapped into that long-repressed desire. She’d been slowly pulling it out of him since they started dating, and it was growing harder to keep those tendencies under wraps. Worse yet, he was growing tired of resisting the urges.

Mark her.

“May I pay now?” he asked.

She stiffened. “W-what?”

He slid the panel to the side, stretching the laces apart to reveal a bare section of skin on her back. And then he kissed it.

She gasped, leaning forward as though thrown off balance.

He grabbed her abdomen, keeping her upright as he nipped at the skin.

Mark her.

Fine.

He sucked the skin, pressing his teeth lightly into it. A whimper escaped her, one that shook him down to his core. It egged him on, encouraging him to finish this mark. Then he pulled away, pressing one last kiss of apology onto the love bite.

“Mine,” he growled.

He heard her swear under her breath.

Pride flooded his body like a tidal wave.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” she said, breathless.

First Kiss

"Why exactly is this important?"

Loki sighed, exasperated, leaning forward to press his forehead against the one that matched his. "For the hundredth time," he pressed, shifting to lean back on Gabriel's lap. "If you are going to be me, this is something that will surely come up."

Gabriel's new eyes narrowed on the god seated squarely on his lap, his hands laying idly on the others thighs. "I have witnessed human coupling," he said stiffly, tilting his head as he leaned against the large tree at his back.

The god's shoulders sank as his lip curled in displeasure. "We really need to work on your speech, feathers," Loki grumbled with a shake of his head. His hand moved to cup Gabriel's cheek once more. "A problem for another time," he settled on dismissing the issue in favor of returning to their current lesson.

"What is wrong with the way I speak?"

Loki stared at him as if the archangel had suddenly caught on fire and didn't notice it. He opened his mouth before closing it with a snap and shook his head once.

"We are focusing on kissing and intimacy, not the oddity of your speech my dear fool," he said, patting his cheek before holding it more tightly and tilting his head back. "Focus. Hands on my waist and then up my spine until you reach my hair, yes? Pay attention to my lips so you can copy it and reciprocate."

Gabriel shifted at the manhandling of his new face, but did as Loki commanded. He swallowed at the feeling of fresh skin and nerve endings brushing over Loki's furs and rough leathers.

"Hold me."

Gabriel's honey eyes looked over the confident curve of Loki's lips until he met his eyes, spotting the flecks of green within them, green he knew his own eyes didn't have. His hands gripped his waist, keeping him close.

"Like this?"

Loki hummed, nodding. "You can hold me firmer, but for a mortal this would be good," he hummed, appreciating when Gabriel's hands clenched tighter around him. "Yes, like that," he rolled his hips pressing closer to him.

Gabriel moved a hand up his spine, feeling over the furs that wrapped around his shoulders. He watched as Loki leaned closer the higher his hand caressed.

"Good, close your eyes and focus," Loki said, a breath away from his lips. "Next time you will lead."

Petty Little‘Princess’ (also on ao3)

Luigi glared at the koopa in front of him. This was what, like the 7th time he’d gotten kidnapped dressed as Princess Peach?

He could tell Bowser’d caught onto his disguise this time but the king still hadn’t let on that he knew.

Now Luigi was wearing Peach’s wedding dress and standing at the alter, playing the world’s longest game of gay chicken as Kamek got closer and closer to the ‘I do’s. His feet hurt from being in heels the entire time and the blond wig kept falling into his face.

‘Miserabile figlio di puttana,’ Luigi thought, Bowser’s smug mug staring at him from behind the other side of the veil.

Fine.

If he was gonna be petty and force the plumber to go along with the whole ceremony, thinking Luigi’d be the one to admit he was in disguise, he had another thing coming.

He was a younger sibling, two could play at that game.

“And do you, King Bowser, take this human, to be your awfully wedded partner?”

Bowser chuckled, lifting the veil to smirk at his feisty bride to be. ‘A shame really,’ he thought, looking into the other’s baby blues and reaching a claw towards the medical mask he wore. ‘Red’s brother makes for a pretty cute princess.’

“I do.”

‘Mario’s probably gonna be here any minute. Greenie better hurry up and unmask himself before I do it for him.’

BANG!

Speak of the devil.

The chapel’s double doors slammed open as the older plumber entered the scene. “Let-a go of my-a baby bro, King Koopa!”

“Gwahahaha! Crashing the wedding, Mario? That’s tacky, even for y- GACK!”

Bowser’s monologue was cut short as Luigi yanked the king to his level (having signed the marriage certificate while he was gloating), ripping the medical mask and wig off with a flourish.

“I-a do.”

Without further ado, the dress clad man with a fist full of purple ribbon stared into Bowser’s eyes and gave him the haughtiest look he could muster.

‘Go big or go home,’ Luigi shrugged mentally. And Bowser was the biggest thing in here so...

“Prepara quelle labbra, maritino~.”

“The hell’re you say-MMPPHH?!?!”

“Goodness!” Kamek squawked, everyone else gaping as the two made out at the alter.

Bowser groaned at the feeling of Luigi’s tongue sliding against his own, eyes fluttering shut as his knees went weak, one of them thudding to the ground so he wouldn’t fall over since the plumber was still clinging to his ribbon.

“Hnnnggh.”

Someone coughed in the background.

Oh wow, they were, uh... really going at it.

At least until a pair of comfortable shoes made contact with Luigi’s head. Bowser’s eyes snapped open with a yelp when the shorter man reflexively bit the tip of his tongue.

“Weegee!” Mario waved, tired of awkwardly standing around. Luigi let go of Bowser’s ribbon, the flustered king losing his balance and staggering onto the carpeted floor.

Quickly kicking his high heels off and slipping on the shoes, the green plumber glanced over his shoulder. Bowser felt like he couldn’t breathe as his new consort looked down at him and grinned, figure backlit by the light of chapel’s stained glass.

“See you-a soon, mio re~.”

With a wink and a swish of skirt his skirts he was gone. Mario rolled his eyes at his brother’s performance and sprinted after him, Luigi’s laughter echoing down the hall as Bowser watched in a daze.

BONUS:

luigi is tired emotionally, physically, and mostly because of the wig and high heels

everyone knows luigi’s disguised as peach but bowser isn’t releasing him cuz he wants to humiliate him (it backfires, he’s married now)

mario doesn’t care that they’re married he just doesn’t wanna watch his bro make out with the koopa king

he gets it tho, they’ve discussed bowser’s hotness despite being a bad guy, as siblings sometimes do (personal experience)

luigi’s a younger sibling, his pettiness levels are through the roof

also he’s sarcastic and a little teasing at the end

i wanted to add the koopalings and junior halfway through making this, but wasn’t sure how to do that while also writing bowser and luigi making out

also that’s like 8 more characters and i’m tired lol

translations:

miserabile figlio di puttana = miserable/ petty son of a bitch

Prepara quelle labbra, maritino = get those lips ready, hubby