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igotathingforvampires · 3 years

Text

Aro Volturi N.S.F.W Alphabet

CANON DIVERGENT.

Info on Reader: Reader is an Elemental Gift user like Benjamin

CW/TW: a SLIGHT MENTION of assault but NO DETAIL AT ALL (as a SA survivor I do not use this lightly but I do like representation and not having the survivor be that cliche broken doll we end abusers here thank you)

How you two met:

You…..oh you. You’re standing with the Cullens wondering how the FUCK you got here.

Why am I here? What’s with this tiny little kid who can touch me and tell me things. Awe but she’s cute.

You’re just a bored Vampire who knows Carlisle and is Esme’s BFF.

You’re a nomad, and a badass one, see your gift is the Elements like Benjamin, it’s why Amun has his eye on you and is freaked out.

You and Benji are buddies now. Benjamin specializes in Earth and Water. You specialize in Fire and Air.

So now, here you are watching a bunch of cloaked baddies stomping towards you. But Carlisle and you have spoken frequently, the Volturi aren’t bad.

However, they are cautious.

And caution bred by fear is something you know to be wary of.

So you keep yourself a bit behind Carly. Waiting and watching.

The leader— that must be Aro you think, flings his hood back and suddenly you feel your entire chest clench up and a yank within yourself towards him. “Oh what the fuck.” You growl. Glancing UP at the Old Gods you couldn’t help but snap at them “ARE YOU ALL KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?! HIM?!”

The platinum haired man barked angrily, “who dares?!”

Aro is too busy glancing at his brother Marcus who’s smiling. He nods at Aro and huffs a bit of a sigh.

The raven haired man turns ever so slowly, casting his red gaze over the crowd and it falls to Carlisle. “Carly.”

“Aro?”

“Who is that behind you.” Aro can feel his chest hurt like a chain is being pulled.

Carlisle looks confused and glances behind him where you are shaking your head face palming—looking embarrassed.

Edward and Bella are utterly confused, before Edward listens to Aro’s and your thoughts and gets a look of disgust, “REALLY.” He barks.

You feel the rage of a thousand suns consume you. “I CAN’T PICK IT YA KNOW AND HEY WHADDAYA MEAN REALLY —ASSHOLE DON’T TALK ABOUT MY MATE LIKE THAT!”

The entire field is utterly still as you’re heaving, standing on your tip toes in front of the bronze haired vampire pointing at Edwards cringing face, “but it’s—“ he starts, you let out a growl and sparks fly off you.

Edward shuts up.

“I will light your ass on fire.” You whisper hiss.

The Volturi are just tilting their heads like WTF.

Marcus is trying not to laugh, Caius has just become stunned glancing between his brother and the woman across the battlefield.

Aro is getting GIDDY.

“And who is the girl.” He asks.

You turn, your hips swinging with attitude and your arms crossing as you scoff. “Psh, get a load of this Mother fucker,” you whisper to yourself glaring across the expanse of space. “HEY. I have a name.”

------

-----

His First Impression:

Of course my mate swears like a sailor.

Is Aro’s first thought.

His next thought is that you’re awful adorable. Awe so lithe and cute and— Much too … hm, much too adorable to be mine I would think how In the —a violent wind kicks up and flames burst out from your body enveloping your form as you take a few steps forward.

Ah there it is.

“You wanna ask me my name— darling.” You smile wide at him.

“Of course,” his purr is laced with annoyance, but he’s far too intrigued. “Who might you be?”

“I’m y/n. No last name, my parents were assholes.” You shrug. “So, we doing this trial or we figuring the whole—“ you wave your hand between the gaping maw of land between you two, “bond thing.”

Aro pauses, a twitch on his lips, “after the proceedings cara mia.”

“Ooo… love me a man that speaks Italian—” You smirk, raising a brow and cock your head to the side.

Aro makes a stifled choked off growl as his eyes go black— thank God he lost the ability to blush as arousal slammed into him like a freight train.

You’re obviously annoyed, and have as Caius mutters ‘more balls than a Christmas tree’ and you are ready for this trial to be over.

Frankly so is Aro he wants to drag you back to Volterra and bring you to heel.

Not that he thinks that’s going to happen.

But he loves playing with fire. And you’re full of it.

He watches you glance at the Cullens and the half-breed. “Alright Nessie come on let’s show him what you can do kiddo.” You scoop the girl up and you and the Cullens walk over with Jake behind you.

-----

When does he know of his feelings?

When within reaching distance you set Renessme down and pat her head, “okay tiny Loch Ness, say hello.”

Bella is panicking, but she trusts you it seems, she better, you have no qualms frying— sans mate— every vampire here. They do their little song and dance. Aro tries to talk about the danger and you feel your temper boil over.

“Darling.” You croon taking a step forward with a sharp but soft smile.

You remind him of a lioness, purring softly but ready to tear into him with one movement.

He raises a brow; you are in 6 inch heels putting you nose to nose with him. “Yes carissima?” He breathes deep and nearly groans out loud, you smell so good, like spring and a heady feminine scent like perfume edged in lilacs and lavender.

“Could you pretty pretty pretty please just keep an eye on little Nessie— I hate to tell you but she’s quite important to me and I can assure you she fits in with humans better than the Cullens do.”

“And if I don’t.”

You let flames dance in your gaze. “I’ll roast everyone here except your brothers and their mates and make you start the fuck over without me.”

Aro’s done.

Cupid has struck him in his dead heart.

He’s never been more terrified or aroused or enraged at once at your dulcet threat purred from such sweet lips.

He wants to grip you by your hair to him, pick you up and haul you to somewhere private and teach you a lesson.

He wants to fight you. And it’s quite clear you’re ready to rumble, though he’s not sure you’d let him win. Or that it wouldn’t end up tangling in a bed somewhere on fire. That’s fine too.

A manic grin spreads across his face, eyes going pitch black as he snatches you up by the waist and hauls you closer loving the startled look in your eyes settling into something dark and wanting. “And if I agree?”

The brothers roll their eyes.

Go figure you’d be as bat shit as he is.

“I’ll leave with you right now.” You give him THAT look matching his almost mad grin.

A low purr echos from him making Bella clap her hands over Nessie’s ears. “Una ragazza così meravigliosa, credo che mi piaccia come funziona la tua mente.” Such a wonderful girl, I think I like how your mind works.

But your plans to drag your mate off end as Alice shows up with her witness right when he’s about to whisk you off for some obvious adult time.

Both of you sigh put out and exasperated.

Yes you just about ended an entire potential threat with batting pretty eyes and coaxing the leader of the Volturi into some fun.

But now that’s ruined because of the psychic. Alice is looking rather embarrassed as the proceedings go. Given that she probably saw how everything was about to go down.

Aro can sense you’re as annoyed as he is, that and you’re not leaving his side. And you don’t mind touching him but you’re not because oh yeah he needs to focus. But oh he can see your hand twitching towards his own.

He can easily turn his gift off and so he does and grips your hand, quickly jerking you to his side.

Electricity lights along your skin at the contact and both of you jolt a moment and glance sideways looking amused.

This was going to be fun.

——

How’d you end up with the Volturi?

Alice and her witnesses ease their concerns about Nessie. Aro placates the Volturi as you linger back behind him a bit. Everyone just poof! Vanishes.

“So ah, can we get my stuff first before you whisk me off around the world?” You ask sweetly.

Aro’s a bit startled, “you wish to leave already?”

You realize he would be willing to stay for a bit and let you acclimate.

“Nah where you go I fucking go, come on baby. Let’s get the fuck outta dodge.” You give him a teasing shove as you walk by making Carlisle’s coven silently shake in mirth at his surprised expression.

Carlisle murmurs, “Good luck Aro.”

“Fuck off Carly.” The King growls back before following you.

That’s all they wrote.

You were in. And you made yourself at home quite easily.

Jane and Alec adore you— you saw them and just SQUEEd. “OMG they’re so DEADLY but so CUTE!”

Jane wasn’t quite sure what to do with you picking her UP and hugging her nuzzling your nose to her cheek, “she’s just a tiny tot of doom I adore it! We’re going to burn the SHIT outta people.”

Alec just sat starry eyed as you ruffled his hair, “I know boys don’t like being picked up.”

Jane had become a koala on you. And you didn’t mind.

Well. You’re Mama now. Aro couldn’t be more pleased as you continue to help develop their skills trying things outside of the box.

See, that’s also a sort of talent you have— you can help people learn how to use their gifts because of how you think. Not a gift per say, but certainly useful.

Jane it turns out can utilize the fire element.

Alec can utilize air.

With you knowing both you’re easily able to teach Alec how to hone his targets and even allow his gift to POP UP near someone rather than from his hands.

Jane is capable of setting shit on fire now.

Aro isn’t sure if he’s proud or worried.

Bit of both. But you are STERN with their use of powers. And when Jane set Felix’s foot on fire she was forced to shine everyone’s shoes in the Volturi in the afternoon and write 200,000 times at HUMAN PACE. “We do not light family on fire.”

She never did it again.

The inner coven loves you. Caius and you are besties Marcus is like a big brother always doting on you. Athenadora and Sulpricia are of course still together as companions, and don’t worry about his ex wife— they were on the rocks she’s ecstatic someone else can keep him in line.

The coven instantly takes to you, in fact you’re now basically Mother to everyone. Scolding, teaching, comforting, you do it all. But you’re also a leader and a ruthless one at that.

A perfect fit Aro thinks.

——

How’d he deal with his emotions?

You are driving Aro FUCKING CRAZY.

Literally mad.

You know how to push his buttons and you are not one to do as told. So for him, he who has anyone bending to his will to see you just cock a brow at him and laugh “awe.”

He wants to choke you half to death.

You are a Queen. He tells himself. It’s to be expected that you’d challenge him.

Sulpricia finds it HILARIOUS and you two are besties. Fuck that’s all he needs. She is ever so encouraging of your independence.

He often finds himself in Sulpricia’s study pacing rampantly, “what am I going to do with her?”

“You know you like it.” Sully says lounging back on her couch. “If you didn’t you wouldn’t be so utterly ass over tea kettle.”

Aro is not good with his emotions when it comes to jealousy. And he is JEALOUS.

You’re perfect to him, utterly beautiful, you are the sun and he Icarus stupidly flying as high as he can towards you in hopes to reach the light.

You’re also inclined to let him touch you whenever you want to express things without using words— and you’ve learned to let him speak to you telepathically as well.

So often you just sit with your pinkies touching on a couch and have back and forth silently except for the occasional twitch on your lips at a humorous comment.

You’ve managed to make him huff a laugh occasionally.

But he is utterly posessive. He does not like it when men stare too long, admiring is one thing, but nothing escapes Aro.

So when a lower guard had been in trouble for an infraction and when you had disciplined him the utter disrespect for a concubine replacement was across Aro’s mind and…welll—

Guard died.

You had just looked startled and gave a ‘oh well’ kinda shrug before touching ARo’s hand. Feel better baby?

Yes you called him baby in private, so modern, and he would NEVER admit he loved it. Baby, darling, love, honey, the list went on and each one twisted his insides into ribbons of absolute adoration.

You had actually taken to the bond so well Marcus had informed him that it was practically cemented.

His only hang up was himself.

——

Who does he ask for help?

Didyme is no longer there— his dear sister, a deep sorrow as he was accidentally responsible for her death.

Marcus however is always there to be the voice of reason, and he sits Aro down and listens to his brother spill his guts. Aro is terrified, he is well aware he is THE monster that makes OTHER monsters keep in line.

But for you to look at him like that? He could never bear it. His heart would break.

Marcus sighs, “Aro come here.” He drags his brother to the training grounds.

Where Aro get’s to see his mate literally tear apart the entire guard with blades…. Did his eyes deceive him— were those made from vampire ash and fangs?!

You pause your onslaught, “oh hi darling!” You prance over and smile, “like them? My witch-smith friend made them for me! Fucking bastards kept coming for me after awhile and ya know I just hate the idea of wasting shit.”

Marcus glanced at Aro and gave him a I told you so.

“Everything okay?” You ask looking concerned. You are dragging him along as he partially willingly let’s you take him to his sister’s gardens. “What’s wrong?”

And so, he exhales and does the one thing he’s never done with his gift.

He touches your hand and shows you his own thoughts.

He expects your recoil. Expects you to shun him. Expects your hatred and braces himself for it.

You gasp and when he’s about to drag his hand away and you grip him tighter. “No don’t…let me…” and so you watch— thousands of years of memories over the course of a week or two. Asking silent questions as the images play, getting silent answers in return.

And so, in return, you show him your human life— a life that had been riddled with abusers, torment and lack of love, the iron in your spine that had solidified your creation when you had dragged yourself from an open alley way at dawn into the sewer system after being left to die being drained by a nomad after a brutal assault. You shared with him that it had taken a lot for you to even move after what had happened.

Esme had found you.

And so your friends made sure you were okay even if you didn’t follow their diet.

You both spend time going over your pasts, Aro gently asking questions and you doing the same to answer as best you could.

It was why Rosalie and you got along so well, there were some experiences one could only understand by going through it. And you both had learned how to cope with the trauma you had.

Aro is patient, both of you taking time to feel through each others wounds, taking time to rework into each others personal space.

Marcus is stunned to tell Aro that the bond is nigh unbreakable after this exchange.

The Kings magically -coughs- big brother Marcus loses his shit finding out and Caius leads the search party with Demetri— cough cough— find the nomad and he’s now in a box limb free 15 feet below the dungeon with a tube connecting him to the surface, his tongue removed and he only gets blood once a year. *Jane lit them on fire multiple times to practice her accuracy and aim*

You find out of course, and smile through the dry sobs as all three embrace you like a big protective group hug. For the first time in a very long time, it’s safe.

Truly safe.

——

What happens when he tells you?

Aro is a man of few words, and honestly not much is needed between you two with the ability to go back and forth with his gift.

So in the middle of a walk in Didyme’s gardens he merely grabs your hand gently and kisses the top of your fingers.

And you’re flooded with his emotions.

The warmth and tenderness and absolute adoration is almost enough to restart your dead heart as venom pools in your eyes. “Aro…”

He loves you, loves you more than his own life, would give anything for you to make you smile.

This isn’t the love that is complacent, to just sit idle and rust away, he wants to chase you for eternity, whatever it takes to keep you at his side.

And you flood him right back— lowering the barriers you had and after a moment he merely leans down and presses his forehead to your own, giving the two of you time to just bask in the warmth of affection that’s swirling back and forth akin to the waves of the tide under the moon and sun at twilight.

——

First Kiss?

The leaders of Volterra were in the throne room, the Queens having their own thrones behind their husbands but visible carved in different woods to represent their personalities with different intricate features much like the brother’s thrones holding different crowning points but all the same color.

Your own is the same color as Aro’s throne, but mingled with mahogany accents. Ruby red stones slotted at the top with a crescent moon and sun carving emboldened with gold spiked halo.

Caius' mate's throne is a pale color, affixed with branches and beautiful earth like tones, complimenting her grounded nature.

Marcus’ Witch Mate is merely embellished in a ash throne, deep red almost black gems and the symbol for the overall witch and vampire alliance above her throne.

With all three positions of Queen in Volterra taken up by a true mate, it is the most stable the Volturi have been in several millennia.

But that day in particular was rough, there were a few traitors that had been brought forward— and one of them had managed to get loose from Felix as Aro had been gaining information lunging for the King’s throat.

You moved so fast no one even saw you as you streaked forward like a ghost and lobbed the vampire’s head off holding a blade made of vampire teeth expertly with an animalistic snarl.

You had positioned yourself in front of Aro, crouched, blade poised and your eyes wide and wild, teeth flashing with a dangerous snarl.

Marcus’ witch had already shielded Aro but paused when she saw how enraged you were. Athena and Sulpricia had faltered, Caius looked utterly proud.

You spun round, dropping your blade— knowing Felix and the others had everything in hand as Aro had reached for you, the two of you locked in an embrace, his hands holding your face still as your own hands grasped his wrists. Foreheads pressed together—

The coven was used to this, a private conversation but you could feel the utter terror that had gone through him when he saw you out of the corner of his eye. If anything had happened to you—he was almost angry at you.

But he could easily sense the rage that had consumed you at the thought of someone hurting him. Despite knowing the guard and Jane would Never allow it, your instincts had taken over.

No one would ever take from you again.

And you had been frightened.

Behind that rage when he got past it was utter fear that he’d be gone and you’d be all alone again all the tender memories would be the last you’d have of him as you gave a dry sob before the venom dropped from your eyes— a true show of vampiric emotion that was a rarity.

“Carissima, no. I’ll not leave you that easily.” He murmured and not giving a flying fuck about anyone in the room kissed you full on the mouth gathering you up in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered half broken against his mouth. “I’m sorry-“

“I know I know, shhh cara mia shhh,” gathering you up he merely flitted out of the room leaving the others to deal with the issue.

Tons of snuggles. He had bundled you up to him in his private rooms and merely kept your hands together enjoying the shared emotions knowing the other was close and safe.

Aro knew exactly how to calm you, he merely showed you all his favorite memories, of the coven, of his travels, the antics his brother’s got up to. He replayed the moment he first saw you.

That always made you laugh of course she swears like a sailor.

——

First Time?

It’s in an elevator.

Okay so here’s the thing. The Volturi have these massive events, and your official coronation happens at one of these.

Aro is so proud.

And so fucking jealous as you are danced across the floor with other vampires— who are oh so respectful and as they should be as Aro watches from the upper floor like an angel of death.

You look stunning, your smile lighting up the entire ballroom, friends from near and far are there— even then Cullens— God bless Carly he even had animal blood brought for him.

You’re dancing around with Nessie laughing and watching the girl child giggle like a fiend before handing her off to the Shifter Aro hated the smell but it was what it was.

Over the course of the evening he was getting awful tired of sharing you. And as the evening wound down to an end you both were just going to take the elevator back up to the private rooms as the Ballroom was on the top floor of Volterra.

The energy crackled in the small space and you both glanced at one another. It was like a short fuse had been lit on a stick of dynamite.

We’re so not doing this in an elevator are we?

You didn’t realize you had said it out loud even as you both gravitated towards one another and his hands tangled into your hair sending gold pins flying to the ground as his mouth found yours and you let out a deep moan as his tongue swiped your lips before you happily opened them.

“We’re going to be patient. Cara mia. ” He said sternly more to himself than you— then groaned when your teeth tugged gently on his bottom lip knowing it drove him crazy. “Sarai la mia morte. Sulla mia tomba scriveranno 'ha giocato con il fuoco ed è perito felicemente’” his voice became heated as his hands moved over your form, “non mi importa più, vieni da me mia fiamma, brucia con me.” You will be my death. On my grave they will write 'he played with fire and perished happily'. I don't care anymore, come to me my flame, burn with me.

His hands were gripping your backside and hauling you up, pressing himself firmly between your thighs before grinding against you. But when his teeth scraped your neck your brain shorted out—

“Oh for gods sake Aro just fuck me already—” your hands were scrabbling at his waist coat and shirt pleased how easily the buttons pinged off the walls of the elevator.

Your mate let out a pleased noise, one that was utterly inhuman when your hands tangled into his raven locks and knocked the golden V pin to the floor allowing the ocean and pomegranate scent of his to curtain you from the world as he bent his head down and kissed you as if it were the last thing he would get to do just then. Right before he smacked his hand against the emergency stop button jolting the ride to the private floor still.

If you thought his kisses were something to be swooning over— because he always knew what you needed.

Well his gift extends to much and he is in tune with it.

Your mind is his favorite place to be, and he brutally uses what he knows to his advantage as his fingers skim up your legs flinging your skirt over your thighs to teasingly grind himself against you till you’re almost clawing at him half feral.

“My pretty little mate—“ he croons at you, “you looked so beautiful cara mia,” kissing down your throat before biting marks into your flesh licking them before continuing on as his teeth jerk the fabric of your bodice and sleeves off not even bothering with his hands. “E tu sei tutto mio, cazzo.” And you’re all fucking mine.

You were busy molding your hands against his form, loving how it was just ratcheting up his half mad with desire motions, twitchy, greedy, desperate to touch, “What was it you joked about that one time?” He was referring to a memory with your best friends over drinks.

You gulped and shivered a bit. “I believe I said sometimes a girl just wants to ahem— get slammed to a wall and fucked stupid?”

He smirked as his hands tore fabric off you letting his fingers to glide along your skin, allowing your own to do the same and showing you know exactly what he liked through the bond of touch.

If you’d been human the air would have left your lungs as he pressed his body tight to your own, pinning you in place letting you feel what you did to him, the hard length of his cock pressed into your belly. “What do you say we take care of that, hm?”

You’re speaking in tongues before he even takes you fully, and roughly, there’s no slow tender love making and frankly you’re just glad for it.

His wild smile sliding into a predatory proud smirk when you’re just a mess; whining at him, begging, pleading, twitching against him and oh you’re just so pretty when at his mercy.

He literally has the tongue of the devil.

“Did I finally break you little one?” He croons despite his rough movements sending you into another shockwave of bliss as your nails make claw marks in the wall.

Fuck he had— you’ll do anything if he’ll just continue.

Your submission is like a drug, he’s mad on it, hands digging against you, making small fissures of cracks along your hips that make you groan gleeful as you push closer for more of his touches.

“That’s right bambi, give me everything.”

That’s all you hear before he’s fucking you into the wall of the elevator, sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck just to relish in the pain and pleasure filled noises that escape from you as you beg for more, more, just please give more it’s all you want.

“My good bambi.” He growls as he begins it all over again, rumbling in your ear as your try to escape the onslaught of sensations— but happy you can’t as his grip has you immovable. “You’re not escaping me just yet.”

You’re both a mess, not that either of you care. Adjusting yourselves as best you can—

You’re lucky his private rooms are close and he simply carries you and flits you both into his rooms; you both end up continuing what was started.

——

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

He is a touch telepath, he knows exactly what you need.

But he also surprises you with what you didn’t even know you needed.

Snuggles, so many snuggles— Aro is not a tactile person— but with you?

Forget it.

He’s practically melting into your form and trying to fuse himself to you.

Massages, nuzzling your hair, biting.

Lots of biting— but not hard bites, love bites. Pressing his teeth to your skin to leave little imprints that he just can’t get over. You always poke fun at him for it.

Plus let’s face it.

Bite = Love.

He and Caius are on one mind with that.

He also took a note from Marcus and you both enjoy the heat of the baths together after a particularly long rough romp.

Which turns into a bath romp.

Because ahem *REASONS*

“I’m King I don’t need a reason to have you— now come here.” He’ll huff imperiously when you giggle at him as he drags you close into his embrace kissing you.

Okay he lies.

You looked too pretty in the bath.

Aro can’t help himself. That’s the reason.

——

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

He is SHOOK when you tell him your favorite thing about him is his hands. You never feel misunderstood.

Even in the rare fights you simply huff and reach out to him, wiggling your fingers with a pleading glance; or if he won’t take your hand you’ll walk over sit in his lap and headbutt your forehead to his like an angry cat.

But usually Aro will take your hand and you both have a deep understanding of where you’re both coming from.

After a few moments it’s settled.

You kiss his hands, he knows you love how he plays you like a finely tuned instrument when alone.

Love when he delves his fingers into your hair and cradles you close even if you’re in the throne room— he’s the fucking king he can do what he likes damn it.

But Aro is startled by this— everyone hates touching him even though he can control his gift, they seem to think that— aside from his brothers and sister in laws— that he just loves to dive into people’s minds for funsies.

No it’s awful. Plain awful. He can barely stand his own mind why would he want to traverse someone else’s?

But that brings us to what he likes about you— he LOVES your head space. When he’s stressed it’s his favorite place to be because you have a vivid imagination, as a writer as well you show him stories you’ve thought of and worlds you’ve created with vivid detail. He finds it quite amusing to use watch your thoughts too on a daily, you like it simply because he’s close.

But aside from that it’s you.

Just You.

Just ALL of you.

He can’t pick don’t make the man pick, he would just keep you near him for eternity which you seem to have no issues with.

———

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically…I am a disgusting person…)

He is quite a posessive person.

Two Words:

Breeding Kink

You’re his and his alone, so the idea of ah— claiming you that way just sends him off into the ether.

The fact that you both have a breeding kink and literally can’t have kids is a GREAT thing because you’ve literally sat there a absolute mess after round five and thought out loud as he tenderly cleans you up, “shit thank god we can’t reproduce because I am 100% sure that’d have knocked my ass up—” which has had him shaking in mirth having to pause to control himself after a few moments.

Beg him for it.

Make that whining needy noise in the back of your throat at him for him to finally give you what you need.

He’ll just lose it, pin you by the throat and well— you’ve broken a few beds this way.

He has no shame.

Just glances at the bed, hits speed dial to the furniture store and orders a new one.

His only other favorite thing with C as he soon found out from O (you’ll see) was he adores when you swallow down everything he gives you. That’s got him rumbling in Italian about what a good girl you are and how much you please him.

———

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

He’s a MASSIVE Pleasure Dom. And when I say Dom.

HE GOT DOM ENERGY.

With very mild Sadistic tendencies. (Thanks a lot Caius ya pervy fucker)

However he is also a very sincere soft streak when you’re a very good pet.

He picked up pet play from his sadistic brother hearing him call his amore Bunny. One day down the rabbit hole that is Google and he was hooked.

But he calls you Bambi. It’s an Italian term for baby-girl.

It also works because you become like a damn deer in the headlights when he pulls the Dominant voice on you.

It thrums with a low purr and has the capability to just make your brain go wait what?

HE’S A FUCKING SWITCH.

You had been pissed as shit at him. “I don’t know whether I want to strangle you or fuck you to death!” You paused because you had literally throat pinned him to the wall, the stone crumbling beneath him, feeling the muscles of his neck working as he swallowed nervously.

You were about to let go but saw his eyes had gone totally black and expectant and startled but excited.

He was just as fucking confused as you both calculated in a matter of seconds what had happened.

You were first to catch on. “Oh?….OH...….oooooohhhhhhh ….. you….you son of a….” You sputtered as he got a sly grin, “you can’t just look at me like— you are so ill behaved!!”

He wasn’t far behind and raised a black brow at you looking mischievous, “…..and what are you going to do about it mia regina?”

Next thing he knew he was face planted on his office floor with your boot pressed on his cheek making him groan low. “Gonna make you regret mouthing off to me is what I’m going to do my Aro.”

Edge him. Don’t let him touch you all day till he begs. He loves when you exert your authority especially on him? Oh forget it.

Queen Slay.

Literally you are his Queen and you are the only one who get’s to fucking tell him what to do.

And you ruthlessly do so when he’s in the mood. All you hear is “mia regina?” He’ll croon at you, as your hand comes up and drags him to you by his tie.

“would you like to be of service to me Aro?”

Magic words. He’s done, let him have you and he will literally just focus on your pleasure.

Worship Kink.

You had dropped to your knees at his desk and laid your head in his lap and he almost lost his god damn mind. You purred at him, “il mio maestro”.

Aro .exe has stopped fucking working.

———

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

Thanks to the tactile telepathy as well as the fact that he and his brothers have slept their way through history, Aro is a very mixed lover.

When I say greedy as a lover, he wants your pleasure for himself. And will literally drive you to it till you’re sobbing for mercy.

He has none.

But he does take pity on you when he knows you’re truly at your limit with touch.

You weren’t inexperienced but his own experience blew yours out of the damn water. Can literally have you on the edge in mere minuets. And is SMUG about it.

Fucking smug bastard just watching you with that smirk on his face and a ‘well?’ Kinda expression.

You have to beg if you want it.

You have to plead, you have to let him hear you or he’ll just keep going and I quote ‘hmmm I can’t hear you cara mia, you’re being so quiet you know that makes me want to fuck you harder, come now, let me hear you— don’t make me have to drag it from you baby girl. You know I love to hear your sweet sounds.”

Could probably kill you if you weren’t already dead with what he can do with his hands.

His tongue is even better.

When asked which you preferred you had just panted desperately after a hard orgasm, “any. All. Both. God just…holy fuck.”

He cracked up over that. “My poor baby I broke her.”

————

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves having you in his lap.

Prefers to see your face and eyes, seems to need it.

But occasionally he just loves gripping your neck from behind and feeling you gasp against his grip as he slams into you roughly.

Adores anything that has you clinging onto him for dear life.

Likes being in a position to mark you. Favorite thing ever.

You had once tested his patience (willfully hoping for this outcome) a bit too much and he had pinned you completely immobile to the desk of his office and fucked you within an inch of your immortal life gagging you with his black tie.

“you just have to test me don’t you mia regina?” He had growled in your ear leaning over you, his hand crunching the ornate wood to splinters as you keened and whined for him to keep going. “Such a ill behaved thing you are, should just keep you here like this for when I please hm?”

He was not joking, you were kept there quite happily under his desk sitting at his feet your head on his lap waiting and absolutely willing.

He could feel your hands grip his thighs, “quit that I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work—“ his voice teetered off in a guttural growl as he looked down.

You were biting his shirt looking up at him already nudging yourself between his thighs your teeth digging into his trouser zipper and tugging down.

his hands were gripping your hair jerking you up to kiss him deep, a growl against your lips, “Fucking damn it— come here.”

When you can get him to swear which is rare— yeah…

He didn’t exactly sound angry.

But he sure fucked you like he was though.

“This is what you were after hm? You brat!” A harsh laugh as he pinned you down a bit harder, “fine then I should ensure you’re good….and….sated…shouldn’t I bambi?”

———

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

Very sincere.

Teasing but only in a very sexual way.

Borders on humiliation but he respects you too much.

Very serious though when he focuses on you.

He’s focusing on all the sensations you’re sending him, letting you know what he’s feeling as well which just sets you into the damn ether.

———

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

It’s ARO.

The man is vain.

The man is neat.

Clean and pristine.

He’d give a regal huff of annoyance, “I am not a heathen darling.”

———

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

Ohhh you wouldn’t know it but he’s such a god damn romantic.

He is. And he MAKES time for you. The schedules are changed so you have time together more often— something that was never done before.

Operas, romantic walks out in Volterra at night.

Sightseeing.

Your favorite was your trip to Germany in the winter with a big cozy cottage and a big fire and lots of bedding to ahem— destroy.

Aro has penguin brain.

He brings you small gifts that made him think of you— you have a bracelet that has special charms he had custom made for you, a lochness monster for when you met, a castle obviously for Volterra, a doe, different tiny items that speckled through your life, each one means something— you hardly ever take it off.

You have a collection of very sparkly stones in many jars that he found on his missions.

They are actually gemstones— insert eye roll— they set off pretty prisms through your shared rooms.

“Aren’t you going to make jewelry of them?” Aro asks.

“No darling they are perfect just as they are.” You smile.

Aro actually has the literal voice of a damn angel.

He sings to you in Italian, soft dulcet sweet tones and dances you around your rooms teasing you relentlessly.

Aro writes beautiful poetry. He will at least write one every few months when inspiration comes to him.

You have your own private box at the opera house. As well as being allowed to fund artists across the world, you’ve found incredible talent on broadway and other venues.

Flowers. Aro ensures care for a private greenhouse for you on the roof, each flower has a meaning, and they all bloom year round given the proper temperatures on the greenhouse. “Why would I send you flowers when they die so easily.” He asks kissing your cheek as you smile over the new blooms. “This is everlasting, much more fitting.” He muses.

All his poetry is in a beautiful book Caius got you for your birthday.

———

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Why would he do that when he has you?

He is a patient man.

He can wait.

And he has pristine control over himself.

He is too old for pre-pubescent raging hormone crap.

But he will legit melt for you if you do it for him. Prefers it slow, enjoying your touch and loves to watch as you take instruction.

You’re such a good girl for him.

————

———

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Aro is a kinky bastard.

MASSIVE Pleasure Dom.

Worship Kink.

Edging.

Controlling Orgasms *you don’t get to come till he gives permission*

Collaring *your Volturi necklace is LITERALLY on a collar*

Overstimulation. *his gift allows him to know when you’re pushed to hard and when you can take a bit more. When you’re craving that over stimulus, he’ll give it happily. Knowing he can turn you into a babbling speaking in tongues, drooling, eyes rolling back mess just— just— GAH.*

Breeding Kink *Aro has a true breeding kink, ask him to fill you up beg him for it and he’s going to lose his mind.*

Gagging. *he loves to gag you, but also loves being choked by you or you grabbing onto his tie.

Wax Play *you’re a fire elemental user, bringing candles into play is just oh it’s nice. * Prefers to have it done TO him. Your air element gift also allows you to cool the wax quickly and give new sensations.

————

———

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Aro is private, he prefers somewhere comfortable to take his sweet time with you.

Rooms Private, hotel, somewhere he can just lavish you and enjoy everything you can give him.

He’d rather take the time to find a nice comfy setting.

But every blue moon— he’ll just look at you in that specific dress molding to your thighs.

He will drag you into an alley way and just rail the shit out of you keeping you quiet with a firm grip over your mouth as he hisses the dirtiest things in your ear.

You two once had a quick rendezvous in a changing room at a theatre. -shrug- it was empty oh well.

———

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

“Master?” You bat your eyes at him

His nostrils flare as he breathes in and just knows exactly what you want and you smell so fucking good.

The tone you use.

He knows. You want him. That’s it.

Unless it’s a trial— and DO NOT DO THIS BEFORE TRIAL.

And if you happen to when he takes your hand send him your fantasies after seeing him standing there all regal and watching his mouth form syllables so well and how much better it’ll be with his mouth— ahem— busy somewhere else.

He will be so mad at you.

He’s glaring at you behind a mask of calm and you can feel the fucking tremor in his limbs.

You just bat your eyes innocently at him and smile.

His face: you’re in SO MUCH trouble.

Brat energy??? During Trial?!??! Now is that the time to give brat energy!!???

Oh. Oh. oh you are so in trouble. When he gets done with ripping some poor idiots head off— okay not really they broke the rules— stalks over to you; grabs you by your oh so pretty collar, “come with me bambi.”

And just pulls you along to your rooms with you giggling the whole way and practically prancing behind him like a— well like a doe prancing into a lions den.

He’s tossed you over his shoulder once and just flitted out of the rooms into your private chambers, hurling you onto the bed before ripping into your clothing. “You best be ready for your punishment.”

“Oooohhhhhh absolutly master.”

“that’s my girl.”

The coven just rolls their eyes. Aro is less manic with you there and you surprisingly bring ease to the coven— so ya know what if that’s what does it whatever.

————

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

Humiliation. No.

Impact play is one thing, but to intentionally hurt you no.

If he does impact play one hand is always touching you to ensure you’re okay.

————

———

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

Giving? The man has a wicked tongue.

His oral game is LEGIT.

Will have you in a puddle of twitching ecstasy in mere moments of teasing because he knows where to touch and that’s not just his tongue but his hands.

Will kiss you all over before even getting to the ahem— final destination.

You’re either ready to combust or ready to strangle him when he finally just begins to devour you.

Eats pussy like a man starved but has all the time to enjoy.

Smug as Fuck.

Expect him to just watch you as you’re coming back down from the absolute height he threw you up to and glaring down at his smug grin as he waits before beginning all over again.

Will go all night if you’ve been ill behaved.

Your record is 20 before you BEGGED for a break.

He finally took pity and gave you a warm bubble bath and snuggles and praises.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like receiving, however it was more just a “hm, that’s nice—“

But with you.

Especially when you had decided to walk into his office, lay your head in his lap as you had sat yourself under his desk so he could work while he played with your hair (you have a comfy cushion there who was he to argue if that was the best way to be close and he could get work done??!!)

But his work was abruptly halted when you had nuzzled his cock through his trousers dragging your mouth wide as he became painfully hard in record time.

“what is it you think you’re doing bambi?” He purred looking oh so curious.

“Nothing.” You muffled around him as your teeth found his zipper and trouser buttons with a rather feral sound.

Upon finding out you had no gag reflex and having your nose buried in his pelvis as you moaned around him he was done for and he didn’t even care.

Work was forgotten.

Loves when you pleasure him, but of course has to be in control for the most part.

Buries his hands into your hair and loves throat fucking you, praising you the entire time. “What a good thing you don’t need to breathe dolcezza.”

You had hummed around him ecstatically.

The reward for this is always drool worthy.

Play with yourself as you do and let him see you do so keeping your clothing out of the way and you’ll have him break finally, that cool haughty composure cracking as his gaze goes just utterly uncontrollably wild, his hips moving a bit harder.

————

———

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

You both fuck rough.

But you both also love the slow and sensual moments too.

Especially if you have the time to just drown in one another.

It just depends on the situation.

Rough And Fast:

Slow and Sensual is how it usually starts off, he’s so attentive, so soft and cherishes you, that is till you growl at him for more and he has of course no other option but to give you what he wants.

You’re his queen after all what kind of mate would he be if he didn’t give in?

But has today been exceedingly trying for either of you?

Or is your mate quite amped up from a particularly rough trial?

You’ve been pestering him haven’t you? Hmmm.. yeah buckle up.

You’re in trouble and therefore need to relearn where your place is— it’s in your bed, beneath him losing your mind out of pleasure.

And he is all too happy to provide that lesson if you seem to forget.

You try to forget often. You damn brat.

Slow and Sensual

However sometimes he just wants to be gentle. And frankly so do you, you want to just bask in the bond you have and slowly explore all over again despite knowing you have memorized one another to heart by now.

Doesn’t matter, you still find things that surprise you, things that make you smile.

Places that when touched cause a jolt— well that’s new.

“I could spend my entire life mapping out your body carissima.”

“that’s an awful long time in bed.”

Aro would just smirk kissing down your sternum, “oh what a pity— I suppose my brothers shall have to cover for me hm?” Bite marks being pressed into your flesh, “I plan on leaving so many of these that I forget where they are so I can find them later.”

“Such an evil overlord.” But you’re giddy, he’s going to make your entire world tilt again with those slow careful hands of his and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

———

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

You’d be surprised that such a patient man could be so damn impatient for you.

He’s not as impatient as Caius but not AS patient as Marcus.

So it’s a toss up when he’s twitchy during trials and catches a glimpse of you floating down the hallway in all your grandure and he mentally tosses a coin.

Nope he can’t take it that flash of leg just set him off.

“Excuse me I do belive I remembered something that needs my attention.”

The others just inwardly roll their eyes.

Next thing you know you’re gagged by his tie in his office pinned over the desk with his teeth buried in your neck and frankly you expected this you wore that damn skirt with the slit in it to tease him.

Seeing this just makes him let out a feral noise and a laugh at the end, “oh you planned that hm?” He nibbles the outer shell of your ear, “missed me did you?”

You can only nod as he continues, eyes rolling back as he knows exactly what you’re needing and it’s certainly not gentle right now.

“I have exactly fifteen minutes before my brothers come looking for me— think you can be a good girl and make me come?”

You smirk against the gag in your mouth before purring at him; and it’s off to the races.

He’s in trouble quite often for this— but who’s to argue with him.

He’s king he can do what he wants…. At times….

Okay most of the time.

Plus he’s always in a MUCH better mood.

I wonder Why.

————

———

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

While Aro does love to experiment your safety is his utmost importance.

But he’s a curious bastard and you are right behind him on that scale so sometimes your games become a bit risky.

Never life threatening but oh boy do you two get a grin and just glance at one another, “you know we haven’t done that yet.”

“No…. No we haven’t….”

And that’s how it usually starts.

The worst thing you two can realize is you both utter “I don’t know”.

Well now you have to know if either of you are able to ahem— arrive— under rather dire circumstances such as utilizing your gift (don’t worry your gift doesn’t hurt him he knows how to use fire too surprise surprise.).

You almost had a heart attack though and nearly killed him after.

He just cackled that manic laugh that had you joining in after hitting him several times.

———

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

Need I say more than one word?

Vampire.

Aro takes his time most occasions, his slow, slow sweet time.

Now— you’d THINK that the rougher encounters would last a shorter period.

You’re wrong.

So wrong.

He lives for it you’re going to be so happy you’re a vampire and can’t really get sore except for when you both leave cracking handprints on one another.

————

———

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

Sensory.

Crops, leather gloves, feathers, ben wa balls are huge and he likes that they are silent but give you that teasing sensation. Wax candle play is huge for both of you and you enjoy long luxurious heated baths and sauna sessions with one another.

Ooooo he loves it.

Leather gloves area huge thing for him but not for what you’d think— he likes to challenge himself.

Sure he can know what you’re feeling but he wants to be in tune with your physical responses as well and so occasionally he dons them just to test his knowledge.

Damn smug overlord is just as good and you hate it and now he’s smirking at you while popping his jaw with his hand on his elbow waiting for you to come back into your body.

“Shut up.” You rasp as your head spins.

“I didn’t say anything.” His raven hair slides across his face as he grins wider.

“Your SMUGNESS IS LOUD ARO.”

“Me?! Smug! Why I never…” -cue the dark chuckle before he starts it up all over again, “maybe once more to ensure you remember it’s not just the gifts edge hm?”

“Ohhhh I’m going to die.” But you reach for him biting his leather clad hands.

“No you won’t.” He hums happily, “I won’t let you. You’re not allowed to leave me bambi.”

————

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

HE IS SO DAMN UNFAIR.

But so are you.

He’s not as bad as Caius but he is close, and he only does it with LOOKS.

His eyes are utterly expressive, as is that mouth of his, so when he glances at you in just the right way you can feel it drop down in your gut and sizzle.

And he does it during trial. Oh but when you do it you’re in trouble. Psh.

He’ll tease you and brush your hand as he walks by just to know that you’re basically twitching from frustration at the end of the day and about to boil over as he leans down and licks your neck. “Bambi, awe, was I too mean to you? Hmm I should make it up to you shouldn’t I?”

He always makes it up to you.

The man has the best ways to use his mouth aside from running the coven and giving orders.

————

———

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

Aro was quite clear studies, and private rooms were to be soundproofed.

He’s loud, swearing (which he normally does not do), praising mess of a man, it’s needed.

And you love it.

You can practically feel the vibration in his chest when he purrs at you, less growling, he’s not as violent unless you get him too worked up.

No no no, he loves making you melt, and knows exactly what to croon at you to make your mind go blank.

———

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

He’s more posessive than Marcus. And that bleeds into a protective nature.

A bit controlling, but he knows very well he can’t do that to you as he had to Sulprica. BUT it doesn’t stop him from trying as gods forbid anything happen to you.

Less Jealous than Caius.

But his ah— mood swings can cause for quite an interesting feat.

Since Marcus and Caius were always the brunt of the bashing and warfare, and he the brains behind the operation, many seem to think he has no bite marks on his body due to not being in the fray.

No.

The problem is Aro becomes too violent. Especially because of his talent when touching his victims it tends to become a frenzy. Once he had decimated an entire coven single handedly because the rage they had was swamping him.

His brothers had to pin him down and try to relay calm emotions— his sister Didyme thankfully had been the one to bring him back.

You yourself are now that calm place.

At one point, a guard had been careless enough to have thought about you in ah— that way— Aro was aware you were quite beautiful, your personality no nonsense and many of the guard and lower guard considered you a maternal figure almost otherwise a very good friend.

But this guard.

Ohhh he coveted. What was not his.

But what was worse, was that on the way to the throne room he had spoken to you rather crassly, you merely ignored him; he wasn’t even worth your time. But he had glanced you over as if you were a rather tasty morsel, the imaginings of you spread out beneath him had Aro’s hands cracking his wrists.

You saw the change slightly as you were behind him. His spine went poker straight. “You dare.” It was worse, the guard had actually tried to think of how to lure you away to him— you were a queen so surely infidelity was expected—

The rumble in his chest was a whole new sound you’d never even heard.

Both Marcus and Caius were sitting straight up and narrowing their gaze at Aro before Marcus flitted over and guided you to Aro’s throne placing you on it and standing protectively in front of you.

“Marcus?” you peered behind the eldest king and he hushed you gently.

The guard was torn apart in mere seconds.

It was utterly ruthless and with no mercy.

“People tend to forget Aro is only about a thousand years younger than I.” Marcus muttered.

You blinked. Aro was at least five thousand meaning that Marcus was Six, Caius being the youngest at three.

Aro speared the entire guard with a terrifyingly cold glare before flitting over to you, gripping your head back by your hair and sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck with a low growl.

The sentiment was well understood as the entire guard backed the fuck away from the dais— he closed the wound before his head shot up and he snarled at the coven tucking you into his embrace your face buried into his robes. “She is mine.” It was a quiet, soft voice that spoke.

“Aro.” you muffled tugging his sleeve and looking up at him.

He showed you “what he had seen and tilted his head. Would you mind cara?”

You lit the bastard on fire with a scowl aimed at the body winding your arms about Aro’s waist and nuzzling into his solid form.

A soft kiss in your hair, his body relaxing. “That’s my bambi.”

———

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

Aro although he is lithe and tall….he’s not exactly easy to handle.

9” decent width, knows how to use it.

Be forewarned, he knows what he’s doing.

Tactile Telepathy, good luck remember to keep your head on straight.

————

———

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

It’s less of a wistful like of yearning.

And more a burning bonfire of desire always in the wing of his mind ready to take over the forefront.

One glance at you and he wants you— granted he thinks it might cool down over the centuries but when you look at him like that and bite your lip and grin.

Nah.

Nope. This isn’t going away. Not at all.

He of course has excellent control so he is able to push other desires to the back of his mind, but once finished you are certainly at the front of the line.

Super high.

You both are insane.

You can be sitting reading and next moment with one small brush you’re gone from the library and you’ve tackled him through the doors of your rooms and pinned him to the floor.

Insatiable.

Good luck!

————

———

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Aro LOVES resting with you.

He likes to just lay with his hands on your body and watching your thoughts, you’re his favorite mind to go through and he just adores it.

You both can spend hours like this if you were allowed—

He likes when you drag your fingers through his hair.

Makes him melt.

Kiss across his eyes and kiss his hands as he brushes your mouth with his fingers trying to learn you all over again.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.” He murmurs to you lazily. He has you nestled in his arms your head tucked under his jaw.

“That’s fucking fine by me.” You giggle.

He rolls his eyes and huffs a soft laugh kissing the top of your head. “Of course she swears like a sailor…”

#aro volturi

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misterewrites · 3 years

Text

The Fallen’s Redemption (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hey everyone! E here with the newest chapter! sorry it took a while to get out, been a wild month but it looks like everything's calming down so hopefully everything comes out more consistently. I hope you are all well and enjoying the story. Feel free to share, comment and all that jazz. I'm trying to promote myself more. Feels weird. haha that's it for me. Stay safe, wear your mask, wash your hands, vaccinate if you can and take care of your love ones. Have a great week! E out!

If you like an easier way to read the story or even find out what the heck’s going on you can read the whole thing right here!

--> https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/74835963

It was truly impressive how one moment could shift without warning. How the highest and lowest point in a singular instant in time could reverse and just keep going.

Archie wished for once in his life it went in his favor.

The mercenary knew Oliver and Abigail had succeeded when the room settled: crooked walls straightened, the hallways were no longer elongated stretches of void and he could hear Abigail’s voice from the other room.

The demon knew it too as it bruised skin failed to heal quickly, the smoke curled off its body longer and longer as Archie sunk holy arrow after holy arrow into its form. Its muscles seemed to deflect as Fen rained blow after brutal blow upon it. It was actually pretty disturbing if Archie was going to be honest but he knew better to give pity to a demon.

Archie loosen the arrow notched in his bow but kept a wary eye on their foe. It was time to leave. This demon was trapped in this prison for a reason and Archie was suspecting at the very least it was indestructible. Attempting to destroy it would be pointless and a weakened unkillable demon was still a threat.

Archie paused, unsure how to properly convey his message to the berserk Fen. He inched closer, practically stomping to make sure Fen didn’t whirl around in surprise and attack.

He tapped the paladin’s shoulder gently but Fen paid no him no mind. He cleared his throat but Fen just kept swinging away. Archie snarled, gripping Fen’s shoulder tightly and forcing him to turn.

“What!” Fen glared “Can’t you see I’m busy destroying this demon?”

‘You are serious?’ Archie let his annoyance slip onto his face. He was about pull the paladin away when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

The demon, even beaten and in pain, was deceptively quick. It’s elongated arm shot out, aiming for a weak point in the armor.

Archie did not like Fen. Archie thought Fen was unnecessarily combative and stand offish. Fen was a pain to work with and had never once played on a team.

But Archie couldn’t deny who he was.

That’s why he joined the King’s Guard when he lived on the surface.

He acted without thinking, pulling Fen away with as much strength as he could. The claws cut into Fen’s arm but drew little blood. Most of the blood the demon managed to spill came from Archie.

-----

It was impossible to tell who acted quicker: Abigail, Oliver or even Fen.

The trio as acted one for the first time in the short while they knew each other: Oliver said nothing, opting to gesture with a middle finger towards the demon. It let out a pained shriek, reeling backwards as golden musical notes surrounded its head and a dissonance screech thundering in its ears. Fen swung backward, cracking the demon in the jaw and sent it sprawling towards the floor. Abigail raced forward, diving for Archibald's falling form.

For a lanky guy, he was heavier than Abigail was expecting. She barely managed to stop him from hitting the floor with a splat but found herself pinned under him as a result.

“Oh boy Archie” Abigail groaned, struggling to lift the mercenary “You got some weight on you.”

Archie gave a weak smile, his gaze unfocused and distant.

Abigail turned to call for Oliver but the bard was already there, carefully eyeing the wound.

“It’s not too bad” Oliver murmured to himself. He rolled his sleeves up, staining one red with the blood dripping from his hand “But we got to act fast. He’s going to bleed out we don’t get him fixed up.”

“Can you?” Abagail asked, trying her best to keep her voice calm.

Oliver didn’t answer. Instead he held a hand over the open wound, closing his eyes while muttering something under his breath.

The golden musical notes appeared once more and hovered over Archibald. A calming melody began to play as Oliver’s magic took hold. Oliver winced as his own wound knitted itself back together: pinkish skin reforming and sealed where he stabbed himself with the dagger. Archibald’s started to but something went wrong: A malicious energy poured from the wound, hungry and vicious. Oliver’s magic wavered and shimmered out of exist but the wound remained.

Oliver’s face paled, his lips curling into a snarl.

“Oh hell no!”

Oliver rose his hand once again, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as his magic reformed but once again the strange energy appeared and seemed to actively block the bard’s attempts to heal.

Oliver’s eyes grew manic “I am not letting someone else die! Curse or no curse.”

“Curse?” Abigail whispered as a chill ran down her spine “He’s been cursed.”

“A fucking demonic curse.” Oliver explained, frantically digging through his pack “Obviously my magic isn’t enough to break it.”

Abigail nodded numbly “We need holy magic.”

“Which we don’t have.” Oliver responded grimly “You have any thread?”

“Thread?”

“I’m going to try to stitch him up. I’m hoping the curse is only focused on magical cures.”

“R-right.” Abigail’s hand moved on their own, reaching for her pack while she desperately tried to remember where she kept the thread. It wasn’t the easiest thing with one hand but the other was wrapped tightly around Archie’s body. Definitely not the smartest choice but she refused to let go of him.

Abigail’s hand shook as the nerves started to eat at her.

“Talk to me farm girl.” Oliver sounded far off “You need to stay focus.

She took a calming breath “Right. Right. Calm. Are you sure threads would work?”

“No” Oliver admitted “But I’m hoping they last long enough for us to get him to the capital. He needs a real cleric or paladin” he glared openly Fen’s back as the paladin continued his cruel attack on the demon “and we’re going to need every second. Dragging him out the house, up the slope and down the tunnel is going to be a challenge but we have to try.”

The air grew thick with tension, the only sounds were Abigail’s panicked search and thuds of Fen’s assault

“Die demon die!” Fen growled with a righteous fever “I will send you back from whence your came!”

Crunch, squish, crunch, squish, crunch. The repetitive noise of Fen’s wasted efforts.

Oliver tried to keep calm. Oliver tried to focus on the task hand. Oliver wanted nothing more than silence.

Oliver always had a poor control over his mouth.

“WOULD YOU SHUT UP!?”

Abigail stood, shocked at the rage and fury that filled Oliver’s shout.

Fen caught it too. He paused, turning away from his prey and eyed Oliver’s distastefully.

“You dare…?” Fen began, angrily stomping closer to the pair.

“You fucking right I dare!” Oliver shot to his feet, hands clenched to fists “You are joke and worse, not even a funny one. Just a pathetic washed out paladin who doesn’t even realize why his God abandoned him!”

Fen held Oliver’s lute in a deathly grip “I am warning you bard if you push me further….”

“You’ll what?” Oliver roared. He closed the distance and even Fen couldn’t help but take a step back “You’ll attack me? A fellow human? Not very holy of you.”

“I….”

“What’s the point of killing monsters...” Oliver screamed, gesturing to the bleeding Archibald and fearful Abigail “...if there’s no one left to save when you’re done! What’s the point of punishing the wicked if good people have to die for it?”

Fen felt sick as realization washed over him. Young Archibald had gotten severely injured but he been so caught up in his fury he hadn’t realized what occurred.

“I….” Fen began weakly but Oliver wasn’t finished.

“Don’t.” Oliver spoke with an aura of finality “You made your choice. You chose your anger over your duty. If you regret the outcome, you should’ve thought about the choice more carefully. Abigail, thread.”

Abigail nodded and began searching for the elusive thread. Oliver turned away from the stunned paladin and pulled out a fine needle.

“Come on solider boy.” He spoke with a firm tone “You’re not dying on me. If you want to get paid, you’ll keep your breathing steady.”

Fen couldn’t hear what the others were saying. The guilt started to build in the pit of his stomach as his arms grew weak.

How could he fall so far? How could he forget his oath to the Solius, the god who saved his life and gave it meaning? How could he allow his anger, his bitterness poison his intention?

This god hadn’t abandoned him, he had abandoned his god.

He still remembered the quiet pride he shone with when he was anointed a paladin. A nobody from a town that no longer existed finally someone. A higher purpose.

The path to redemption is made by self sacrifice.

He thought it meant punishing the wicked creatures and enemies of Solius, giving his life to endless battle.

He closed his eyes in shame, unable to deny the truth of his failure any longer.

Fen’s eyes flinched as a light seemed to shine from nowhere. He opened his eyes expecting to find the irritating bard using his magic to annoy him further.

Instead he found a beautiful soft light emitting from his hands: an open palm and the weaponized lute glowed with an unearthly beauty.

He glanced towards the other but if they had seen the light, they made no indication of it. He could see the desperation in their actions: Abigail unspooling as much thread she could muster while Oliver threaded the needle in preparation for some makeshift surgery.

Fen looked at his hands once again and realized what Solius hadn’t left him. Not really. He always had been with the paladin but he was too blinded by resentment to notice. Now Solius was silently offering him the choice free of judgment.

What path will you choose: of peace or of war?

Fen was a warrior through and through. He was no healer, having never trained in such arts. He knew the path he chose when he swore himself to the god of redemption. A righteous blade on the mortal plane.

“Hey Archie” Abigail croaked, her voice hoarse with fear “It’ll be okay. Oliver’s just gonna shove a needle into your body.”

Archibald rolled his eyes sarcastically as if saying ‘oh fun’

Oliver pulled the thread to ensure it wouldn’t come loose “Sorry I don’t have medicine or anything to numb the pain or even proper experience but hey, what better way to learn new skills huh?”

Archibald shook his head in disbelief.

“I’ll do my best.” Oliver promised with a surprising amount of sincerity “Hopefully it will be enough.”

“Bard.”

Oliver let out a frustrated groan “Seriously?! Now? Can’t you see that I’m about to perform…”

“Allow me.”

Oliver turned to Fen, surprised to see his lute placed carefully on the floor and the paladin’s hands open in peaceful surrender.

“Can you do it?”

“I believe so.”

Oliver moved, allowing Fen room to work. Fen took a deep breath and gently placed his hands onto the open wound. Archibald flinched but stayed as still as he could manage.

The malicious curse crept forth.

“Solius, lend me your power to save this life. It is not yet time.”

Abigail let out a gasp as a gentle light began to cover Fen’s hands. The curse stretched and thinned under the glow of holy magic, shrinking and shrinking before vanishing completely. Archibald relaxed as his wound began to close, skin stitching itself back together until no trace of the injury remained.

Fen let out a tired sigh “The path to redemption is made through self sacrifice.”

“Don’t start.” Oliver warned “Help me lift him up.”

Oliver spared a quick glance for the demon but it wisely chosen to retreat deeper into the house rather purse a one sided fight. Better live with a pain that would heal slowly than face the group’s wrath.

“I got him” Abigail spoke up quickly “I can do it.”

“Well you heard the lady.”

-----

“There’s no sign of your beasts bard.”

“Not entirely true.” Oliver replied. He took note of the gnashed, clawed marks left upon the exterior of the house when they left.

Aside from the various scratch marks left all over the floor and outside of the walls, there was no sign of the mysterious creatures that chased them down the tunnel.

“That’s a lucky break” Oliver breathed in relief.

Archibald flipped off Oliver.

“Relatively.” Oliver corrected “How you feeling solider boy?”

Archibald shot him a glance that screamed ‘you seriously asking me that?’

“Force of habit. Sorry. Not sorry.”

The group stood at the mouth of the tunnel. With Fen’s help, they managed to get Archibald to the top with little trouble.

Abigail slowly approached the paladin “What will you do now?”

Fen paused, taking a moment to answer.

“I am not sure.” he admitted truthfully “As much as I despise your bard, he has given me much to think about.”

“I have that effect on people.” Oliver beamed with pride.

Abigail jabbed her elbow into his side.

“Rude.”

Fen gave a light chuckle “Thank you bard. I still hate you though.”

Oliver gave a noncommittal shrugged “I hate you too but you don’t have to like someone to learn something from them.”

“I am not giving you that one.”

“Yeah that tracks.”

Fen turned to Archibald “Will you be alright? I can accompany you to Haven’s Nest if you wish.”

Archibald waved him off and gestured to Abigail with a flexing motion.

“Thanks!” Abigail smiled brightly.

Fen grinned “I understand and I apologize for my lack of….everything. I will work on that.”

Archibald nodded in understanding.

“Goodbye” Fen turned towards the path to West End “Abigail, Archibald take care. Bard I hope I never see you again.”

“Same here paladork!”

-----

Abigail understood why Oliver chose the unexplored tunnel when they had been chased by the strange creatures: With Abigail carrying Archibald, it had taken the group an hour to reach the city gate. At full sprint it would’ve taken at least 20 minutes to reach but there was no way the group could’ve ran that length without the risk of tripping.

The city gate wasn’t too much different than the walls that surrounded Abigail’s hometown: Instead towering walls designed to be too tall to climb, it was a thick metal door built in the path of the tunnel mouth. There were a pair of guards stationed on their side of the wall, lazy and distracted.

“What happened to him?” one of the guards gestured to Archibald.

“A bad time. Gate closed?”

The other guard shook his head “Nah. We heard a commotion down the tunnel so we decided to shut it in case.”

Oliver nodded “Good call. Let us in?”

“Oi, I ask the questions. What’s your business in the capital?”

Abigail began to open her mouth but Oliver cut her off “Bard competition. They’re my roadies.”

“What’s a roadie?” One guard asked dumbly.

“My help. I’m a pretty big deal.”

The guards sneered “Sure big deal. Sing us something.”

Oliver looked at his fingernails “You can hear me sing at the competition. I don’t do free shows.”

“Fucking bards” the guard murmured under his breath as he knocked on the door with a booming thud.

Abigail could the creaking and groaning of clogs and springs and chains moving in unison. The door began to lift inch by inch. Abigail couldn’t help but lean forward, hoping to soak in her first experience at an underground city. However, instead of whatever she had been expecting, she found herself staring at a large circular cavern.

There were a few people about deep in conversion as well a handful of guards scattered around. Merchants calling in different tongues hoping to make a sale for their wares. On the far end was an identical metal door that no doubt led to the actual city. To either side the cavern walls that were covered with nonsensical graffiti: Phrases in various languages, different images in varying art styles.

“Processing?” Abigail asked with a tone of certainty.

“Yep. It’ll be a few minutes.” Oliver answered while he looked about.

Abigail shifted Archibald so he could be more comfortable “Did you want to sit?”

Archibald shook his head.

“Alright but if you get tired let me know.”

A thumbs up in response.

“Oliver….” Abigail whirled around only to find the bard scribbling some strange symbol among the mess of whatever what was on the wall “OLIVER!”

Oliver paid no mind to her, opting to finish whatever he was doing and making his way back to the other two.

Abigail rose an eyebrow “What was that about?”

“I like doodling. I get bored easily.”

“I was talking to Archie for like a second.”

“Bored.” Oliver repeated unhelpfully “Besides they magically clean the walls every night. Come on let’s get in line.”

True to Oliver’s word, it hadn’t taken long to get through the processing: The same questions asked by the guards in front, a quick magical scan from the cleric to ensure nothing demonic was entering, a search to see if anyone was carrying anything illegal. A few minutes had passed and the trio was waved through.

Archibald regained enough strength to walk on his own albeit slowly. The group was among a handful other people eagerly waiting for the gate to open when a guard had given them some strange item. It looked like two thin marshmallows.

“What is this about?” Abigail asked only to find Oliver and Archibald place the strange item into their ears. Having no choice, Abigail followed suit.

The gate slowly opened, pulling to the side instead upwards.

Abigail leaned forward, catching her first glimpse of Haven’s Nest.

#welcome to the underground #My Story #Original Work

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rhosyn-du · 3 years

Text

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Three

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321 Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Three

Jace woke with the sun just barely beginning to filter through his bedroom window. He’d been half-afraid, half-hopeful that he’d wake to find he and Simon had gravitated toward each other in the night, but they each remained firmly on their sides of the bed, a scant few inches between them.

They had, however, shifted slightly. Simon had kicked the covers off in the night, or maybe Jace had stolen them, and Simon was curled toward the center of the bed, facing Jace, one hand tucked beneath his cheek. His curls stuck out at odd angles, and there was a faint damp patch of drool on the pillow beneath him. Jace thought it was oddly endearing. Either that, or he was completely losing his mind. Probably both. Either way, he needed to get the hell out of bed before he did something really stupid, like reaching out to straighten those curls, or just continuing to lie here staring like some love-struck supermarket romance novel heroine.

Making as little noise as possible, Jace made his way out of bed and pulled on some actual clothes, including the very silly, but very soft reindeer-adorned sweater Izzy had given him for Christmas last year.

“How is it morning already?” Simon’s voice was muffled, and Jace refused to look over and see him looking, no doubt, adorable and far too right in that bed.

“The inexorable march of time,” Jace told him. “I was just going to head down and see about starting some coffee if Iz hasn’t already.”

“Gimme just a second and I’ll come with you,” Simon said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Clary swears your sister’s coffee is amazing and almost makes it worth getting up as early as she does.”

“Nothing is worth getting up when Izzy does,” Jace told him, folding his arms and looking pointedly away while Simon changed. “But she does make some damned good coffee. I’m not sure how she manages to do that when she’s such a disaster with everything else in the kitchen.”

“That’s like the opposite of my sister. Becky is a great cook, but she can never brew a pot of coffee without getting grounds in it. Which is kind of messed up considering how much of it she drinks.”

“Is that where you get your caffeine addiction from?” Jace asked, risking a glance over at Simon for the sake of treating him to a mocking raised eyebrow. He was just in time to catch the last sliver of toned abs disappearing beneath the hem of a Yoda sweatshirt.

“Pretty sure we both get it from Mom.” Simon grinned at him, offering his hand. “Ready when you are, sweetheart.”

“Then let’s get a move on, sugar bear.”

They were greeted with Izzy’s singsong “Good morning!” as they descended the stairs. Clary, feet tucked up beneath her on the couch and leaning heavily into her girlfriend as she sipped her coffee, offered them a sleepy wave.

“About time,” Max muttered from where he sat, engrossed in his phone at the end of the opposite couch.

Jace should have known something was up from the way Izzy watched them as they made their way downstairs, should have felt the telltale dread he always felt at her slowly growing Cheshire Cat grin. But he hadn’t had his first cup of coffee, and he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep, and he was still maybe just a little distracted by that tempting glimpse he’d gotten of Simon’s abs.

So, he was taken entirely surprised at Izzy’s half-shouted, “Stop!”

It was only after he’d obeyed on instinct that he saw the danger, saw a hint of Izzy’s manic smile reflected in the smirk Clary gave Simon.

“Look up,” Clary instructed.

Jace did, and then turned a flat stare on his sister. “Iz. Did you really get up before everyone else just so you could catch us under the mistletoe?”

“It’s not supposed to be for you,” Izzy said dismissively. “And Max was up before me, anyway.” Her grin grew. “But as long as you’re there.”

Jace glanced at Simon. They hadn’t actually talked about kissing since that brief, interrupted discussion in the cafe back in Boston, when Jace had promised to follow Simon’s lead. He hadn’t thought they’d end up under this kind of pressure, though, and the last thing he wanted was for Simon to feel like he didn’t have any other option than kissing Jace.

He turned back toward his sister. “Iz—”

His protest was interrupted by a pair of guitar-calloused hands cupping his face and drawing him into a gentle kiss. It barely lasted a second, not even long enough for Jace to really register it until it was already over, but Jace still missed the feel of Simon’s lips on his own as soon as it ended.

“All right,” Simon said. “We’ve satisfied your prurient interests, now tell me where to find coffee.”

“Big, brushed steel pot on the counter in the far right corner of the kitchen,” Izzy told him. “I’m glad at least you’re fun in the morning, even if Jace isn’t.”

“There’s still time for me to return your present, you know,” Jace told her.

“Nuh-uh. It’s Christmas, stores are all closed.”

“Are they always like this?” Simon asked Clary.

“Always,” she confirmed.

“No, they’re usually much worse,” Alec said as he and Magnus descended the stairs. “This is Iz and Jace on their best behavior.”

“Stick around long enough that they start thinking of you as family and the gloves will come off,” Magnus added with an exaggerated shudder.

Izzy didn’t even have a chance to point out the mistletoe before Alec was leaning in to give his fiancé a soft kiss. “You are family.”

Jace wasn’t sure they’d even noticed the mistletoe.

“Technically, not for another five months,” Magnus said. “Which reminds me, I need to call the florist back this week.”

“Already taken care of,” Alec assured him. “Even if I’m still not entirely clear on what a gladiolus is.”

“I only know that Scott Joplin wrote a rag named after them,” Simon said. “Which, I am realizing is completely beside the point. I’m going to go get that coffee.”

He turned to Jace. “You grab us some good seats, and I’ll bring you a cup.”

A few minutes later, everyone had a cup of coffee (even Max, although the cup Alec made for him was mostly milk and sugar), and Izzy had started a new pot brewing. Jace sipped his coffee contentedly as Simon gave an excited play-by-play of the winter concert to Clary, who apparently hadn’t heard the full story of the Great Harpsichord Mishap yet.

Jace, who had heard the story three times already, found his mind wandering back to that kiss. Which was stupid, because it wasn’t even that remarkable a kiss. Just a quick press of lips, really. Objectively speaking, he’d had better kisses. Many of them. It made no sense that he would be so hung up on this one, especially since it had clearly been no big deal to Simon. And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about the soft warmth of Simon’s lips, the way the callouses on Simon’s fingertips caught just slightly on the stubble along his jawline.

Luke joined them not long after the fresh pot of coffee finished brewing, bypassing the mistletoe trap by virtue of having stayed in the guest room on the first floor.

“Mom is taking too long,” Max announced as Luke returned to the living room with his own mug of coffee. “We should wake her up.”

“Max,” Alec chastised.

“What happened to being twelve now, buddy?” Jace teased.

“I want to open presents before I turn thirteen,” Max answered flatly.

“Your mother was up late getting things ready for today,” Luke said. “You should let her sleep.”

Max gave him a long look, then rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his phone.

“And how exactly would you know Maryse was up late?” Clary asked with an obviously feigned innocent curiosity.

“Because I stayed up to help her,” Luke said, leveling his stepdaughter with a look that said that was the end of the conversation. Clary’s feigned innocence turned to a more obvious smirk, but she let it drop.

By the time Maryse made her way down the stairs almost an hour later, Max was practically vibrating with impatience, although he was clearly trying not to show it.

And so was Izzy, although she was far less obvious about it. At least until she gasped in faux shock, “Oh no, Mom! Looks like you’re standing right underneath some mistletoe. Guess you’re going to have to kiss someone.”

She and Clary turned expectant smiles toward Luke, who returned a flat look and an equally flat, “Really?”

“Isabelle,” Maryse said in the tone of voice that usually preceded a lecture, “it’s impolite to make assumptions about people’s personal lives, or to try to trick them into revealing personal details they might not be ready to share.”

Izzy had the grace to look chagrined. “Sorry, Mama.”

“You’re forgiven,” Maryse said. “See that it doesn’t happen again.” She turned to Luke. “Lucian, are you just going to sit there or are you going to get over here and kiss me good morning.”

Izzy clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her excited shriek as a laughing Luke walked over and let Maryse drag him into the sort of kiss Jace would never have expected her to give anyone in front of her children.

“Gross,” Max muttered. He had the sense not to say it loud enough for Maryse or Izzy to hear, but Jace kicked his foot and gave him a disapproving shake of his head.

“As you’ve probably gathered, and some of you clearly already guessed,” Maryse said, giving Izzy a pointed look, “Lucian and I have been seeing each other.” “

“We were planning to tell you after the holidays,” Luke added, “but I guess there’s no point in waiting now, is there?”

“We all kind of guessed,” Alec admitted. “And we couldn’t be happier for you.”

“You guys were pretty obvious,” Clary said.

“Super obvious,” Izzy agreed.

“Now can we open presents?” Max asked.

~~~

“Congratulations,” Jace said the next morning, as Simon was packing the last of his things back into his suitcase. “You survived an entire Lightwood Christmas celebration.”

“It was surprisingly less dramatic than I’d been led to believe it would be,” Simon said. “Except maybe the mistletoe thing. For a second there, I thought Luke was ready to strangle Clary.”

“Izzy’s the one he should be annoyed at,” Jace said. “I’m sure she talked Clary into helping her set that up.”

“Uh-uh, no way,” Simon insisted. “I know a Clary Fray plan when I see one, and that had her metaphorical fingerprints all over it.”

“Izzy’s too. I guess the rest of us will have to watch our backs with the two of them together.” He paused. “About the mistletoe thing. We’re okay, right?”

“Huh?” Simon threw him a confused glance. “Of course we are.” He frowned. “Unless... I didn’t overstep, did I? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know we never finished our discussion, and I didn’t even ask before I kissed you, I just thought—”

“Simon,” Jace interrupted. “It’s fine. I told you, I’m happy to follow your lead. I just wanted to make sure Iz and Clary didn’t pressure you into it. But as far as I’m concerned, you can kiss me whenever you want.”

For just an instant, Simon’s frown seemed to morph into something that was almost speculative, and Jace wondered if he’d given too much away. But it was gone so quickly he thought he might have imagined it, replaced by an easy smile.

“Cool. I’ll keep that in mind in case we get ambushed with any more mistletoe.”

It took Simon almost twenty minutes to get out the door once he made it downstairs. Clary wanted to nail down plans for getting together later in the week, and Max kept trying to convince Simon to stay a little longer and play the new video game they’d spent half the previous afternoon playing together.

“Max,” Jace said finally, “Simon needs to go spend time with his own family. If you want, I can play with you.”

Max considered him, then shook his head. “You haven’t got the combos down yet. You’re too easy to beat. But I guess I could teach you. If you want.”

“Sure,” Jace told him. “Why don’t you go get it set up while I help Simon take his stuff to the car.”

Max ran off without even bothering to say goodbye, and Jace shook his head. “I don’t know where that kid got his lack of manners.”

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Simon said, giving him a pointed look. “But I can be magnanimous about it, since he recognizes my clear video game superiority.”

“One day on a new game does not a champion make,” Jace told him. “We’ll see who’s got video game superiority when we get back home.”

“I’ve got an even better idea,” Clary interjected. “What about a game of Land Mines at Magnus’s New Year’s Eve party? Me and Simon against you and Izzy.”

“Oh,” Simon said, throwing an uncertain look at Jace. “Magnus’s party?”

They hadn’t talked about the New Year’s Eve party. Jace had thought about inviting Simon, had thought about inviting him even before they’d agreed to play each other’s boyfriends, but he figured Simon already had plans with his own friends and family. And now, it seemed too much to ask if it meant Simon spending New Year’s Eve having to pretend to be his boyfriend.

“You are coming, right?” Clary asked, looking between Simon and Jace with clear concern. “We always spend New Year’s Eve together. Unless you guys made other plans?”

“No!” Simon said quickly, avoiding looking at Jace. “No, of course I’ll be there. Obviously. I’m just, you know, not sure kicking Jace’s ass at Land Mines is worth the hangover.”

“The part where you’re worried about your hangover means we’ve already won,” Jace said, hating the way that Simon wouldn’t look at him. He’d have to find a way to make this up to him. “Not that you’ve ever beat me at a drinking game.”

“That’s only because I don’t play them,” Simon said, finally meeting his eyes with a forced smile. “I’ve watched Maia and Lily both drink you under the table, though, so I think I’ve got a pretty good shot, especially with Fray on my team.”

“You only say that because you’ve never seen Iz drink,” Jace told him. “I’ve definitely got the advantage when it comes to partners.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Simon’s smile was less forced now, falling back into their usual banter.

“Uh huh,” Jace said, unimpressed. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Now get going before your mom decides she hates me for making you late before I even get the chance to meet her.”

“You’re cute and occasionally charming. She’ll love you,” Simon told him, but he picked up his bag anyway and started to head toward his van. Then he stopped and threw a quick glance at Clary, who still stood beside Jace in the doorway, before dropping his bag and strode the three steps back up to Jace to pull him into a kiss.

This kiss wasn’t fleeting like their kiss under the mistletoe had been. Jace had plenty of time to register what was happening as Simon’s mouth moved against his, enough time to relax into it. Enough time to get just a little lost and pull Simon closer.

When Simon pulled back from the kiss, he left behind the warmth of a sharp exhale against Jace’s lips. Jace opened his eyes to find Simon watching him with an unreadable expression.

“I’ll text you later,” Simon said.

“Yeah,” Jace agreed, hoping Simon couldn’t hear the faint unsteadiness in his voice.

“And I’ll see you,” Simon pointed at Clary, who Jace had momentarily forgotten was even there, “day after tomorrow.”

Right. Clary. That’s why Simon had kissed him. Because it would have been weird for him to leave without kissing his boyfriend goodbye. Jace stepped back, putting some much-needed space between the two of them.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Clary said.

Simon flashed Jace a quick smile before turning and taking his bag out to his van.

“Come on,” Clary said, linking her arm with Jace’s and tugging him back inside. “I need to go tell my girlfriend that I volunteered her to get trounced at Land Mines.”

“Please,” Jace said, doing his best to push everything that had just happened out of his mind. “You know you’re going to lose. Just admit it now and save yourself the embarrassment.”

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis

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