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Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Missa was watching Chayanne sleep, he didn't have the heart to wake up his child, but Tallulah did have the heart to wake up her brother, if she had to get up early, so did he.  

So, ignoring her apa Missa standing at the side of the bed, she climbed onto the bed to start jumping up and down to wake her brother. 

‘Yeah, I'm coming!’ Shrieked the eldest as he felt his little sister jumping on his bed, ‘It's too early, what are you waking me up for, you moron?’ He yelled at her, grabbing her leg and throwing her onto the bed. 

‘Halloween,’ said the little girl in sign language, growling at him, trying to get out of her brother's grip. 

‘Right,’ said the little boy jumping up from the bed, ’quick apa, we have to start decorating.’ 

The boy started to run towards the hatch to get out of the room, but Missa caught him before the boy could get out. 

‘Where are you going still in your pyjamas, Chay?’ Missa said, unable to contain her laughter. 

At that moment, Philza walked in with a box of decorations and two coffee cups balancing on it. ‘I think we can decorate in our pyjamas.’ 

Missa smiled and went to take the box from her husband's hands, ‘Good morning, cariño .’ 

‘Good morning, darling.’ Said the blond, giving Missa a chaste kiss on the lips and handing her the coffee cup, ‘It has two scoops of coffee, one scoop of sugar and two scoops of cream.’ 

‘Thank you, querido .’ Said the Mexican, pulling down the box of decorations, so the children could see what decorations they had to start decorating Casa bonita  

‘Wow!’ Chayanne said, pulling out a plastic pumpkin, ‘If we put a couple of candles inside, it would look great in the entryway.’ 

Tallulah had discovered the cobwebs and was trying to untangle them, getting stuck in the process. 

Philza laughed, ‘let me help you, my child.’  

Philza knelt down beside Tallulah to get her out of the way of all the decorations, which had somehow got into her dress and hair. ‘Ugh, these cobwebs are worse than the real thing, now go help your brother, Queen. ’ 

Meanwhile, Chayanne was pulling little calacas out of the box, ‘Look Lullah! We can put them on the door.’ Said the boy, only to gasp as he found a life-size skeleton, ‘Look, apa, look, it's a calaca just like you! Can we put your hat on it? Please, please.’ 

Missa stopped what he was doing, giving kisses to the girl's ‘wounds’, to think a little, ‘Yes, we can, but we have to be careful.’ 

Tallulah immediately brightened up, and ran off to get Missa's mariachi hat. 

Philza started pulling out some marigold garlands, ‘We could hang these in the kitchen.’ 

‘And these are in the yard!’ shouted Chayanne, pulling out garlands of ghosts and skulls. 

Tallulah tugged on Missa's sleeve to get his attention, ‘Can we carve pumpkins?’ signed the girl

Missa looked at Philza, asking with his eyes if they had pumpkins. 

‘We don't have pumpkins, but we can buy some and carve them tomorrow.’ 

Tallulah huffed, but nodded and quickly joined her brother in the process of decorating the rest of the house, they quickly filled the entire living room with spooky decorations. 

‘Well,’ said Philza, ’the house looks like a graveyard.’ 

‘I know,’ Missa exclaimed, ’isn't it exciting?’ 

Philza smiled, he loved his bonita family, in their casa bonita , with its not-so-pretty decorations.

Chapter Text

After decorating and having a big breakfast of sugar shells and chocolate, as they had promised Tallulah, they had gone pumpkin picking.

There was a field of a lot of pumpkins a few miles from spawn, so they had decided to go down so they could put a couple of them carved near the entrance, and some for Tallulah's garden.

Chayanne was leading his little expedition naming all the dishes he could create with pumpkin, behind him was Tallulah picking flowers that grew nearby on the path, behind them were Missa and Philza, holding hands deciding what they were going to make for lunch.

It was warm indeed, but there was a cold wind blowing, so Missa had dusted off the cloaks hos mother had given him to everyone in the family. Created with raven feathers to keep warm and plants to add a splash of colour.

‘We're here!’ shouted Chayanne, running into the pumpkin patch.

‘Chay! Careful!’ shouted Missa watching as his son ran to climb into the biggest pumpkin in the place.

‘We've got to take this one!’ squealed the boy.

The pumpkin was an eyesore, it was so big that Chayanne was hugging it on his tiptoes and his fingers were only touching the top of the pumpkin.

‘Why don't you pick another one?’ Phil asked, knowing he had to carry that thing up to Casa Bonita and his back wasn't going to take it.

‘But this one is perfect,’ the youngest complained.

‘Can you carry it? Because I'm not going to carry it up, and I'm pretty sure Missa won't.’

While the two blondes were arguing, Missa and Tallulah were looking for a perfect pumpkin to carve a cat and a turtle out of.

After a while, they each picked a pumpkin.

‘Hey, that's not fair, why is papa Missa carrying 2 pumpkins?’ the boy asked with a groan.

‘Because I can carry 2’ replied Missa sticking her tongue out at Chayanne

.

At last, they had arrived at Casa Bonita, and prepared to start carving the pumpkins, they gathered the seeds for the crows, and Missa had put her extra pumpkin in a pit with a bunch of spices to make pumpkin pies.

Missa began to prepare the dough, while Philza put up a couple of plastic bags to protect the kitchen table and the children looked for the necessary tools to begin the task.

‘All right, littles shits , have markers, do what you want, don't kill yourselves,’ said the man, handing the markers to his children and going to cuddle hos husband.

‘Is the don't kill each other part optional?’ Chayanne asked, taking the marker.

‘No!’ Said both parents in unison.

Chayanne snorted, ‘Okay, okay, okay, no one kills themselves…for today, right Lullah?’

The little girl nodded, but she wasn't really paying attention to her brother, too focused on drawing a turtle on her pumpkin. Chayanne for his part was concentrating on trying to draw Technoblade.

After a while of Philza not letting him cook, Missa decided to go help her sons with the pumpkins. ‘Love, please, I just wanted some hugs’ the blond complained, watching as the Mexican sat down at the kitchen table.

‘No, you kept grabbing my tummy,’ Missa complained, ’don't you see I was cooking, pendejo .’

Phil snorted, ‘Alright, alright I'll behave, how are those pumpkins coming?’

Chayanne proudly showed him his Technoblade, although it was a little shaky, it was pretty amazing for a kid to draw on a pumpkin. Tallulah showed him her pumpkin, it was a turtle, and she had drawn a bunch of flowers on its shell.

‘You're both very pretty,’ said Missa, ’Why don't you go and wash your hands? Daddy Phil and I will finish up here.’

The children ran to the bathroom, knowing that if Papa Missa sent them to clean up, it meant they were going to eat soon.

When the children emerged from the bathroom, more wet than clean, the pumpkins were ready and the table was set with tea, chocolate, and pumpkin pies. They spent the rest of the afternoon eating and joking.

When evening came they went out with the pumpkins and lit them, the carved pumpkins were the finishing touch to Casita Bonita's decoration, it was now properly spooky.

Chapter Text

Sometimes when Missa is not at home, Phil likes to go into the wardrobe to see what interesting things her boyfriend has in the wardrobe. Whenever Missa went on a trip he would bring interesting things to the house, and they would fall into the wardrobe to be ‘organised’ later, although that later never came. 

So he had put in one of the vinyl records Missa had bought in Chile on a visit he had made to Phillip, Plantasia, he thinks it was called, and was just taking things he found interesting. 

The first thing he took out of the wardrobe was a Moroccan fez, it was quite old and covered in dust, on the other hand, the Mariachi hat was intact, Missa probably forgot that the fez existed, always careful with her little cultural treasures, there were a couple of other hats, probably from her trips to South America, Missa had the habit of travelling to the Southern Hemisphere in the warmer months and the poor calaca always ended up burning himself if he didn't buy a hat. 

With a smile, he decided to abandon his bucket hat for the Mariachi hat, and went on to look through more of the things Missa had abandoned in the darkness of his wardrobe. 

The next thing that caught his eye was a raven feather cape, he knew that his suegra , yes he now called her suegra , not Mrs. Sinfonia, had made it herself, in fact Phil and the children had recently received a feather cape for each of them, but it wasn't the same as the original cape, Missa's cape smelled of marigold, cinnamon and the characteristic smell of ceremonial incense, so he put it on, simply to surround himself with the comforting scent of his boyfriend.

On one of the hangers there was also an Andean poncho, it was white, but all the drawings were done in a dark purple, what did surprise him was to see the skulls in the design, he didn't know ponchos with that design. The pocho had a tag hanging on it, ‘para la santa muerte’ it said in beautiful calligraphy, Philza didn't know Spanish and didn't feel like looking for his comm and translating it either, so he left it be. 

He also took the box in which Missa kept the masks he had collected over the years. He opened the box and was startled to see a mask of the devil, it was an intricate mask of colour and glitter, which Missa explained to him rather excitedly when Phillip had finally got him one, was a representation of Luzbel, a demon who after being overthrown by the Archangel Michael, begins to honour the virgin. 

With a little giggle he put the mask aside and pulled out the next one, it was a Venetian mask, it was a plague doctor mask, it reminded him a bit of his BOLAS mask, it was white, it had a beautiful golden design on the edges and a bunch of raven feathers around it, inside the mask, with the same golden colour it said ‘Per la santa morte’ . 

How curious. 

The next mask was undoubtedly Mexican, because it was very similar to the one Missa normally wears, but much more intricate, it had carved marigold flowers and a line of small skulls, as if the calaca was wearing a diadem, it also had written on the inside, miccahuacayotl, that language he didn't recognise. 

He decided not to wear any of the masks anyway, they were too beautiful for Phil to inadvertently ruin them. 

The next thing that caught his eye was a black charro suit, with beautiful golden bone embroidery, it looked like the whole suit was embroidered like a skeleton, and Philza wanted to try on the jacket, he didn't know if it would fit him, Philza was shorter than Missa, but Missa was thin where Philza was thick… yeah he better not try that, but he did put on the bow. 

When he went to hang up the suit again from his pocket a note fell out, it said, ‘ Para el Charro Negro, más conocido como la santa muerte misma .’ 

“El charro negro…”  Phil muttered to himself, where had he heard that? Surely from some story Roier or Missa had told him. 

He put the note away again and ignoring that feeling that he was forgetting something he went back to check the wardrobe, there was a little box that caught his eye, it was wooden and had a heart with a skull carved in the middle, curiously he decided to sit on the bed to see what this little box was that Missa had so hidden amongst the depths of his wardrobe. 

“What are you doing, querido ?” Missa's voice startled him, Philza turned to see his boyfriend standing in the archway of the doorway, “What are you wearing?” the Mexican said with a chuckle. 

“Just a couple of things I found in your wardrobe,” Philza said setting the little box down on the night stand, “Do I look pretty?” He asked in a squeaky, cloying tone of voice. 

“Of course you do, my love,” Missa said giving Philza a kiss on the lips and taking the box and putting it in his pocket, inwardly Missa sighed in relief, Philza almost discovered the engagement ring he had bought.

Chapter Text

The kids had decided to have a Halloween movie marathon, nothing too scary because afterwards Philza and Missa knew they would end up with the two terrified kids in their room and bed. Thanks to Anabelle and It, Philza had been pushed out of his own bed, from next to his boyfriend's warm side, by his two brats. 

So now they were watching, ‘The Adams Family’ at the request of Tallulah, who had stated and reaffirmed, that they were very much like the family of manic goths. 

‘Hey, we may be goths, but I don't think we're maniacs,’ the blond had tried to defend himself, but then thought about it a bit, his boyfriend was literally the grim reaper, he was called the Angel of Death and well, the brats are their children… ‘I take it back, Princess, you're right.’

Missa let out a giggle, ‘Hey, at least we're a family of united goth maniacs’ he said, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend to pull him closer to his body. 

The four of them were curled up on the couch, Chayanne was sitting on his dad Missa's lap, half sprawled over one of the arms of the couch, Tallulah was leaning against Phil, with a big bowl of popcorn in her lap. 

In the movie, Wednesday Adams was electrocuting her brother Pugsley. Tallulah was silently clapping, clearly thrilled by the Adams siblings' antics. 

Chayanne chuckled a little at seeing his sister so excited about the movie, ‘I hope you're not getting any ideas, Lulah.’ He joked, though somehow you could hear the nervousness in his voice. 

Missa ruffled his son's hair, ‘Don't worry, Chay. We don't have electric chairs in the house.’

‘We do have a generator, though.’ Philza said, more to himself than to the others. 

Missa nudged him, ‘Don't give him ideas, my love.’ 

‘I don't need ideas,’ Tallulah said with her signs, ‘I can look up my own murder ideas.’ 

That made Chayanne's eyes widen in terror, because Chayanne may be a withering warrior, but his little sister was something that made him quake in his wellies.

They weren't even halfway through the film when the two children had fallen asleep, although neither of the two adults noticed, quite interested in the film. 

When the credits rolled, Missa was going to ask Chayanne what movie he wanted to see now that it was his turn to choose, but the boy was drooling on the arm of the couch. He went to tell Tallulah that she could pick another movie, but the girl was in a similar state to her brother, still holding the bowl of popcorn, though it was already empty, her purple cap was about to fall off her head. 

‘I think they fell asleep.’ Philza said with a laugh. 

Missa giggled, ‘I don't plan on moving them, if I have to deal with two kids acting like babies when they're sleepy now I'll probably cry.’ 

Philza snorted, ‘Do you want to watch another movie?’ 

Missa nodded, rearranging Chayanne, so his neck wouldn't hurt in the morning.  ‘Do you want to watch Twilight?’ 

‘But Twilight isn't horror?’ Phil said in confusion. 

‘If you think about it from Charlie's perspective yes,’ Missa said, ‘Imagine Tallulah grows up, and one day she tells us, dads I'm going to marry the town millionaire weirdo, I'm going to get pregnant, and I'm going to let him turn me into a vampire.’

‘No… Twilight no’ Chayanne speaking startled them both. 

They both laughed, knowing their eldest son's distaste for the movie of sparkly vampires and teenage romantic drama. 

‘I thought you were asleep?’ replied Missa, laughing. 

All they got was a tired sound from Chayanne that no doubt made them laugh. 

‘I'm going to put him to bed,’ Missa said, getting up with the child in his arms, ‘give me Tallulah. 

Philza swallowed a laugh, ‘Sorry, love, but I don't think you can handle both of them, I can't handle both of them.’ 

Missa gasped in offence, ‘Are you trying to say I'm weak?’ 

‘Yes.’ 

Missa was puzzled and frankly offended, ‘Philza, I'm Santa Muerte, I think I can handle 2 kids.’ 

‘Yes, but you're in your mortal body, darling, and they're both dead weight.’ Said Philza resigning himself to the fact that his stubborn boyfriend decided to carry the two children in his arms, ‘You're going to drop them, and it's not going to be pretty.’ 

Missa looked at Philza with determination, ‘Watch and learn, my love,’ he said, bending down to pick up Tallulah, swinging Chayanne in one arm and lifting the girl carefully. 

‘I really don't think that's a good idea…’ complained Philza, but he couldn't complain too much any more because Missa had balanced the two children almost perfectly, holding them on his hip, the children almost by a reflex had wrapped their arms around Missa's neck.

‘See, I told you I could,’ Missa said, though he was clearly struggling to keep the children from falling off him. 

Philza let out a sarcastic snort, ‘I'm going to take Tallulah before you drop her.’ 

Missa rolled his eyes, but let his boyfriend manoeuvre the little girl out of his arms, they both carefully climbed the stairs and settled the children in their beds. Chayanne immediately started looking for his Techno stuffed animal, hugging it as soon as he found it. Missa made sure to hang Tallulah's hat on one of the bedposts, and put her headphones on their charging station. 

They both tiptoed quietly out of the room, sighing when they saw that the kids hadn't woken up. 

‘Do you still want to watch the movie?’ The blond asked, tired after struggling to get his son's pyjamas on. 

‘The only shiny chest I want to see right now is yours, and I plan on lying on it.’ Said Missa pulling the Brit into their room, ready to sleep through the night. 

Chapter Text

You see, common paesents, Sunny had never met her Pa Tommy, or at least she had never seen him in person, because her Pa Tommy was a god. For the same reason, Sunny had never seen him, had long begged his Pa to let him meet him, but Pa flatly refused. 

Sunny never quite understood why. Until one day, returning from Uncle Phil's house, they had gone to see the decorations that had been put up at Casa Bonita, Sunny had been pestering her father so that they could put decorations in her train carriage, better yet all over Tubhaus, her house had to be the most decorated, and coolest of all the houses on the island. 

But before they could reach The Factory, they both noticed a figure standing at the entrance. It was a blond man, with big golden wings, dressed in red, white and gold, and tall, very tall, Sunny was confused, because she felt she knew him from somewhere, but couldn't understand where. 

Her Pa tensed, gripping her hand tightly, and even hiding her from the man's gaze, something was curious about him, his smile was much more fox like than human, but the more she watched him the man lost that human feel, the man looked like something much more than a mere mortal. 

‘Big T!’ Said the man, that smile growing even bigger, ‘At last you show up, I've been trying to contact you for months.’ 

‘Poppet, go to your wagon and don't come out of there.’ Commanded his Pa in a serious voice he had never heard him use before. 

‘But Pa...’ she whined, how dare he send her to her room? 

But her Pa was in no mood to argue with her, ‘Go to your wagon, Sunny, and stay there.’ 

Sunny scowled and stuck her tongue out at her Pa, ‘I wish you'd get run over by your own train,’ she mumbled, climbing into her wagon and slamming the door, but staying very quiet and glued to the door so she could hear the conversation.

‘Tommy,’ growled Tubbo, not at all pleased to see the God, let alone so close to his daughter. 

Tommy smirked at her, ‘Is that any way to talk to your husband?’  

Tubbo snorted, ‘As if you could call yourself that, you tricked me into marrying you.’

Tommy shrugged, his smile never wavering. ‘Details, details. I'm the god of Chaos and deception, it's what I do.’ 

Tubbo rolled his eyes and curled his arms, ‘What are you doing here, what do you want now?’ 

‘To see my daughter of course.’ said the God with a smile.

Tubbo gasped in offence, ‘ Your daughter ? , excuse me but Sunny is only MY daughter, I didn't see you involved in the process of making her.’ 

‘Excuse me, Victor Frankenstein, but I was the lightning bolt that gave her life,’ said Tommy arrogantly. 

‘Besides, why do you want to see her? She's just a kid, you don't have to bother her.’ 

Tommy smiled, ‘She is my heir, Chaos will awaken in her at some point, I have to teach her to control it or your perfect little life will fall apart.’ 

Tubbo frowned, ‘Are you threatening me, Theseus?’ 

Tommy looked down at him and snarled, ‘I'm warning you, Tobias, let me see my daughter.’ 

‘She's my daughter,’ Tubbo growled at him. 

Tommy let out a derisive laugh, ‘Fine, have it your way, our daughter.’

The sneer in Tommy's voice made his blood boil and before he knew it he had cornered the man by the collar of his stupidly expensive soft robe and shoved him against the wall, Sunny only heard the loud sound of the God slamming against the wall. 

‘Are you fighting me or are you trying to seduce me?’ the blond replied in a mocking voice. 

‘Shut up, for the love of all that is holy, shut up.’ 

Sunny was very confused about what was going on, she was hearing some very strange sounds from behind the door, she was really starting to worry about her Pa. 

‘Go away, Theseus.’ her Pa said after a while. 

‘All right,’ the blond said, ’but you can't escape the chaos forever, Toby.’ 

Chapter Text

Missa was waiting for her boyfriend at the entrance of Roier's house, they had recently received the invitation to the party, and they were both quite excited to go. As a good Halloween party was all about costumes, they had decided to go as the most iconic gothic couple of all time, Morticia and Gomez Adams. 

His mother had insisted on taking him to the party, so he had to wait for Phil, who lived a couple of houses down from Roier's house. 

“Missa!” his boyfriend shouted when he was already a block away from the party. 

‘Philza!’ Missa shouted as he saw his boyfriend running with all his might, and then grabbed him in his arms and spun him around. 

‘Missa,’ said the boy with a goofy smile on his lips. 

‘Philza,’ said Missa with the same goofy smile and honeyed tone. They both looked at each other for a couple more seconds, enjoying the sight of each other. Philza gave him a couple more twirls before setting Missa down on the ground, pulling a rose out of his pocket, and making an exaggerated bow he offered it to Missa. 

‘For you, my dear Morticia.’ He said, trying not to break character. 

Missa laughed a little, but accepted the rose and tucked it behind his ear, ‘Oh, Dear Gomez, always so thoughtful.’  

Still holding hands they went to knock on the door of Roier's house, the sound of wolves howling instead of birds ringing disturbed them a little, but soon the door opened, Roier was there, in a Beetlejuice costume. 

‘Boys!’ Roier shouted, you could barely hear him over the music, ’Come in, come in, everyone's here!’ 

The house was bursting at the seams with teenagers, it was the closest thing to Philza's nightmares, but then again, his boyfriend was too sociable to miss a Roier party, and Philza, well Philza had simply hung onto Missa, like a Cinnamonroll keychain from McDonald's to an aesthetic girl's backpack. 

‘Popstar,’ Oh no, Missa and Roier were going to say hi to each other, they were going to spend three years talking shit while Philza was still standing next to them. 

‘Diva,’ Roier said snapping his fingers, just as Cellbit, dressed as Lydia, was coming down the stairs, he froze in place, just like Phil, prepared to stand there for five minutes waiting for the two of them to finish greeting each other. 

‘Come into the dining room,’ Cellbit shouted, saving the two from the eternal Mexican greeting, ’There's beer in the tub and punch in the bowl.’ 

Philza sighed in relief and dragged his boyfriend into the dining room, avoiding Roier and Missa's mindless chatter, the dining room was decorated as if someone had dragged in a bunch of appliances, smashed them up and left them there for someone else to lead with. 

‘Philza, my man,’ Philza turned and to his surprise Fit was there, dressed as Aang, ’What a surprise to see you here, what happened to you, nerd?’ 

‘My boyfriend,’ laughed Phil, ’My boyfriend happened to me.’ 

In the distance Philza heard a ‘shot, shot, shot’ and turned his head, to see that his boyfriend was drinking a line of tequila, salt and lime shots.  

‘Phil, come here, give me a kiss!’ shouted Missa. 

Phil froze in place, his cheeks turning red as he heard the whistles and whistles of his friends, ‘Yes, my darling’ said the embarrassed blond. 

Missa squealed and ran off to kiss his boyfriend, he had clearly had more than enough alcohol for the both of them. 

‘Oops Philza you don't know how much I love you.’ Missa told him. 

‘I got distracted for a second, how much tequila did you drink?’ 

Missa giggled and gave Phil lots of kisses on the lips, ‘All of it.’  

‘Let's get some water, my dearest.’ Phil said, trying to contain his laughter. 

‘No! Let's dance!’ said Missa pulling Philza onto the dance floor. 

Missa dragged his boyfriend into Roier's living room, where everyone was dancing, the music was booming off the walls, it was too hot and people couldn't move because they were so close to each other. Again, Phil's nightmare. 

‘Come on, mon cher, show me what you got!’ Missa shouted at him, staggering, but clinging to his boyfriend tightly. 

‘Whatever you want, cara mia.’

Chapter Text

When you are a minor God you often don't have many freedoms, when you are the son of death you have even fewer freedoms. Now they were sitting in a very fine sitting room, patiently waiting for the emperor of the arctic empire, the Blood God, Missa really wasn't happy with what was about to happen, but she had no say in the situation.  

“Ah,” after waiting a while, a man with pink hair and boar tusks entered the room, “My dear death, it is always a pleasure to have you here.” Said the God, opening his arms to greet his mother.

“Oh, Techno, we've known each other for millennia, please tell me Catrina.” Said his mother, rising to accept the God's embrace. 

The God's blood coloured gaze fixed on Missa, and looked him up and down, “As you wish, Catrina, so this is the boy?” said the God with a smirk. 

“It's a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Said Missa with a reverence.  

“I hope you had a good trip,” said the God, “Please sit down, Philza was in a meeting, he will join us in 10 minutes.”

Philza, that was the name of the mortal he was to marry. It was a pledge he made when he was about 500 years old, he didn't know why his mother had made him keep his promise. 

“Of course,” his mother said with a smile, sitting down in one of the elegant armchairs and patting her side so that he would sit close to her. 

They stood for a couple of minutes in tense silence, as the Blood God drank something red from a goblet, Missa preferred not to think about what it was. 

“So… young muerte ,” the God said, twirling the goblet between his fingers, “What do you think of the whole thing?”

The question puzzled him, he had been so far into his own little world that he hadn't been paying attention, “It is an honour to do my duty, sir,” he replied, automatically, he had never thought about it, he had simply had this mission thrust upon him, and as mortals died in a couple of years, Missa didn't expect to become attached to the man. 

Techno let out a laugh that sounded almost like a growl, “Ah, the young gods, always so politically correct.”

At that moment, the mahogany double doors opened, “Sorry for the delay.” In the doorway stood a blond man, large black wings, glistening in the glare of the candles, his mere presence seeming to take up the entire living room. 

Missa turned his gaze to observe the man, his voice was soft, but sounded firm, his eyes were an icy blue, and immediately settled on Missa, where his purple eyes met those ice blue ones causing a small shiver to run down her spine. 

“You must be Missa,” the mortal said, holding out his hand for him to shake. 

“I didn't know mortals were so comfortable with the gods as to call them by their first name.” Missa said, not touching the man, he hadn't put on his gloves and could probably kill him with a single touch. 

Philza arched an eyebrow at Missa's response, his cordial smile morphing into a displeased grimace. “And I didn't know lesser gods were so rude as to not shake the hand of the emperor of the Arctic Empire.” He said, retracting the hand he had extended. 

The silence was too tense, until Catrina stood up to intervene, “Excuse Mors , Emperor, he is not used to interacting with mortals, he always forgets his gloves’ said his mother taking Missa by the shoulder and squeezing him hard, hurting her son on purpose. ‘His touch is fatal to mortals, I'm so sorry.”

Philza narrowed his eyes and snorted, “it's alright,” he said in a voice laden with distaste, “I suppose we are to forgive the young god's inexperience.”

Missa growled in offence, “Inexperience? Forgive me, Emperor, but I hope you do not mistake my caution for inexperience.”

The temperature in the room seemed to have dropped a couple of degrees, the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. 

“I'm sorry I didn't shake your hand,” Missa said holding out his hand with a macabre smile, “Would you like to shake it now and find out what's going on?”

Philza let out a dry laugh, “Nice try darling,” he said in a sickly sweet tone, “but you won't be able to get rid of me that easy.” Phil's smile turned ice-cold, “I'm afraid you've misunderstood me, little god, I'm not here to win your approval.”

Missa narrowed his eyes, his aura darkening subtly. “And I'm not here to be your divine pet, Emperor.”

Catrina and Techno exchanged worried glances as the atmosphere in the room grew increasingly hostile. 

“Why don't we sign the contract?” Techno said trying to break the tension. 

Catrina shot a warning glance towards Missa, her eyes sparkling with silent reproach. Missa forced himself to calm down, though to still feel the weight of Philza's icy stare, who wouldn't take his eyes off him, as if he wanted to cut his head off right then and there.

Philza, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes, walked over to the huge mahogany desk that dominated one side of the room. ‘I think it's fitting. Then we can both get this ridiculousness over with as soon as possible,' he said with a tone of apparent nonchalance as he sat down in the chair and spread out a parchment. His eyes never left Missa's, daring him to back away.

Missa advanced slowly towards the desk, each step echoing through the room like a cold echo. He stopped next to the Emperor, who tipped the scroll towards him without a word. The letters in black ink seemed to glow in the candlelight, describing in detail the pact that would bind them together.

Without taking his eyes off Philza, Missa took the quill Techno held out to him. “Is this all it takes to seal the union?” he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, as if the formality was merely a mockery of their freedom.

Philza let out a dry laugh. “You'd be surprised how many imperial unions have been signed like that. Though, of course, you may have other ideas about betrothal, little god ,” he replied, his tone mocking.

Missa narrowed his eyes, every fibre of his being screaming at him to disintegrate the insolent mortal, but he knew that to do anything else would only put his mother in an awkward position. He signed with a final stroke of the quill, his name appearing on the parchment with a grim glow.

“Good,” Philza declared, signing his name under Missa's, not taking his icy gaze away. “Looks like we're… stuck.”

They both looked at each other, not giving an inch. Techno cleared his throat, breaking the silence with a tone that tried to sound casual. “I suppose you'll have time to get to know each other better soon. I've prepared a special wing in the palace for you to live in together.”

Philza and Missa seemed to tense up at the same time, both looking at Techno as if he had just said the most absurd comment in the world.

“Live together?” they asked in unison, their voices heavy with disbelief.

“Oh, come on,” Techno said, barely containing a mischievous grin. “It would be the most convenient thing to do. After all, you're officially engaged now.”

Chapter Text

Missa had got up to make breakfast for his family, he had to take advantage of the days he was on the island to do what he could for his family, so he was going to leave a lot of food prepared, because he knew that if it was for Philza he would eat avocado toast for breakfast, lunch and dinner, plus he was going to clean, wash and iron the clothes that accumulated and even and if his duties didn't call him before, sew a couple of new dresses for Tallulah.

The sweet smell of pancakes, bacon, and coffee filled the air. Philza awoke to the sweet smell wafting into the room, and though he expected Missa curled up next to him, Chayanne loved to make breakfast, Philza discovered the left side of the bed empty and cold.

Philza stretched and decided to go to the kitchen, maybe if he was lucky he'd get a couple of minutes alone with Missa without the kids. He came across Missa humming one of his songs, as he was plating up breakfast.

Philza wrapped his arms around Missa's waist and placed a couple of kisses on Missa's neck, ‘Good morning, darling.’

Missa startled as he felt Phil's arms around his waist, ‘Philza! You scared me.’

Philza smiled and tried to steal a strip of bacon from the plate Missa was finishing filling to the brim, ‘Did you sleep well?’

Missa slapped his hand, ‘Wait for the kids, and yes, I always sleep well in when I stay at home.’

‘Yeah, me too.’ Phil said, snuggling Missa more into his arms, ‘I love it when you're home.’

Missa felt an empty pit in his stomach at Philza's statement, he would really like to spend more time at home, but his duties as death wouldn't allow it. ‘Sorry about that, I left food ready in the freezer, a couple of sauces, the mole my mother makes and pozole, I finished with the laundry and I have almost ready some dresses that Lullah asked me for, sorry if it's too little, but I didn't have enough time.’

Philza frowned, putting his chin on Missa's shoulder, ‘What are you saying, love? It's more than enough.’

Missa sighed, ‘I just feel like it's too little, especially for all the time I'm away.’

Philza snorted, ‘Missa, this is more than enough,’ Phil turned Missa around to look at him, ‘You are an amazing father, an amazing cook and the best partner a man could ask for.’

Missa started to blush, ‘ querido …’ he whinnied in embarrassment.

‘No, let me finish, you balance your responsibilities as the dead with your life with us like it's nothing, anyone would crack under that much pressure.’

Missa looked down, his cheeks even redder. ‘Phil, I…’

‘No, listen to me,’ Philza insisted, his voice soft but firm. ‘Every moment you spend with us is a gift. The food you prepare, the clothes you mend, the dresses you sew… all of it is a token of your love. But even if you didn't do any of that, you would still be perfect for us. We love you for who you are, not for what you do.’

Philza pressed a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead and gave him a warm smile.

A tear slid down Missa's cheek. Philza wiped it away with his thumb.

‘You're compassionate, caring, and have the biggest heart I've ever known. Ironic, isn't it? Death has the fullest heart there is.’

Missa let out a shaky laugh. ‘Phil, you're making me cry.’

‘Well, sometimes you need to hear these things,’ Philza replied with a tender smile. ‘You're wonderful, Missa. And I love you more than words can express.’

Missa finally gave in and sank into Philza's embrace, hiding his face in his partner's neck. ‘I love you too,’ he murmured against his skin.

Philza held him tightly, stroking his back. ‘I know, my love. You prove it every day.’

They stayed like that for a moment, cuddling in the kitchen, breakfast momentarily forgotten. Finally, Missa pulled away slightly, his eyes still bright with tears, but with a smile on his face.

‘Thank you,’ he said softly. ‘Sometimes… sometimes I forget how much I mean to you.’

Philza gave him a soft kiss on the lips. ‘Well I'm going to make sure you never forget, you are my whole world, my Missa.’

Just then, hurried footsteps were heard coming down the stairs.

‘I smell pancakes!’ shouted Chayanne's voice.

Missa and Philza laughed, pulling apart but keeping their hands intertwined.

‘Looks like the moment of peace is over,’ Philza joked.

‘That's family life,’ Missa replied with a smile. ‘I wouldn't trade it for anything.’

‘Neither would I,’ Philza agreed, giving him one last kiss before their children burst into the kitchen, ready to start another day. 

Chapter Text

Missa and Philza had moved into their dream house, a beautiful Victorian gothic mansion. It was old, it was mossy on the outside, the door was falling off its hinges, and it was missing a couple of panes of glass in the windows, but it was all theirs. 

‘Are you excited?’ asked Phil to his boyfriend, parking his big torino in the driveway, ’It needs a couple of repairs, but it's all ours.’ 

‘It's literally my dream house,’ Missa said with a big smile, ’I really can't believe we were able to buy it.’ 

Phil laughed and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, ‘It looks like it's haunted.’ He said laughing. 

Missa punched him in the arm, ‘don't say that shit.’ The Mexican shrieked. 

Philza rubbed his arm, ‘Alright, alright, no more haunted house jokes.’ He said with a laugh 

‘Come on, let's get in.’ 

They both got out of the car, and headed for the entrance, the door was sealed with some boards, but there was a piece of wood missing from underneath.  

‘We have to replace the door,’ Philza said after pushing it open. 

Missa laughed, but ran into the hallway, the inside of the house was not dilapidated, in fact the inside was in almost perfect condition, the house had belonged to an old woman who had made sure her house didn't fall apart, but because of her age she couldn't do much about the outside. 

‘Well, it could be worse.’ Missa said. 

‘Yes, you're right.’ Said Phil, ‘it could be haunted’ he said, making ghost sounds.

‘Don't joke about that any more,’ the Mexican shrieked again, ’you respect the dead.’ 

‘Sorry, sorry,’ said Phil giving him a resounding kiss on the cheek, ’Now what? Shall we clean up or eat first?’ 

‘Mhmmm, let's clean up, I'm going to order for lunch, Chinese, or pizza?’ 

‘Pizza is a good idea,’ said Phil, ’I'll start with the kitchen, you clean up the living room and the 2 of us do the bedroom?’

‘Yeah, that’s alright,’ said Missa giving his boyfriend a quick kiss and going to clean the living room. 

So they both started cleaning, Missa had made sure to check every nook and cranny of the old living room and had even lit a summary, to make sure there were no evil spirits or bad energies in the house. What looked a little out of place were the toys and clothes that were drying, plus the fireplace looked like it had been used recently.  

Strange, very strange.

‘Phil?’ he shouted to get his boyfriend's attention, ’Did you see this when you came to see the house?’ 

Philza walked into the living room, he was wearing that green scarf he used in his hair when he cleaned, ‘Oh, yes, those things were here, apparently the lady looked after the orphans that fell into the lake near here.’ 

‘Oh,’ said Missa sighing, ’I thought… don't forget it.’ 

‘Ghosts?’ said Phil with an evil grin on his face. 

Missa frowned, ‘Don't joke about that.’ He said, taking the broom and finishing sweeping, ‘Are you done with the kitchen?’ 

‘Almost done.’

The sound of a boat whistle startled them both, ‘I think it's the pizza.’ 

They both laughed, Philza went to get the pizza while he moved the coffee table closer to the couch. Missa smiled as her boyfriend came dancing in with two boxes of pizza and a bottle of ice-cold glass coke in his hands. 

‘Dinner’ said Phil, in the same tone as Maui sings it in the Moana movie.  

‘Thank you’ said Missa receiving one of the boxes. 

‘You're welcome’ said Phil with a smile, plopping down on the couch. 

Missa sat next to Phil on the couch, both eagerly opening their pizza boxes.

‘Mmm, smells delicious,’ Missa said, taking a slice. ‘Nothing like pizza after a day of cleaning.’

Phil nodded, his mouth already full of pizza. He swallowed and said, ‘Definitely. Hey, what do you say we start unpacking the boxes tomorrow? We could start giving this place a more personal touch.’

‘Sounds perfect to me,’ Missa replied. ‘I've got lots of ideas for decorating. Remember those pictures we bought at the flea market?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ Phil said, taking a sip of coke. ‘They're going to look great in the living room.’

As they ate and chatted, a subtle noise came from the back of the house. It sounded like someone had tripped over something.

Missa stopped mid-bite. ‘Did you hear that?’

Phil cocked his head, listening. ‘Probably some animal outside. Maybe a raccoon or something.’

‘I guess,’ Missa said, not entirely convinced. ‘Tomorrow we should check to see if there are any entrances we need to seal.’

‘Good idea,’ agreed Phil. ’We don't want any unexpected visitors.’

They continued their dinner, discussing plans for the house and sharing anecdotes. From time to time, Missa glanced toward the hallway leading to the back of the house, as if expecting to see something. But everything seemed normal.

As they picked up the leftovers from dinner, Missa kept looking down the hallway. 

‘Everything all right, darling?’ asked Phil giving Missa a hug from behind, ’you look, scared.’  

‘Yes, everything's fine, querido,’ Missa said giving him a kiss on the cheek, ’Shall we go to bed?’ 

They both went to sleep. The next day, they both went downstairs for breakfast for reheated pizza and a cup of coffee, but their pizza was gone, and their living room was a mess. 

They attributed it to the raccoons, until it happened again the next day, and the next, and the next. 

On the fifth day, Missa and Phil looked at each other with concern as they observed their living room once again in disarray.

‘This can't be raccoons any more,’ Missa said, picking up a cushion from the floor. ‘Raccoons don't open refrigerators or leave biscuit crumbs everywhere.’

Phil nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ‘You're right. This is…weird.’

‘Do you think someone is breaking into the house?’ Missa asked, her voice tinged with concern.

‘It's possible,’ Phil replied. ’But I don't see any signs of forced entry. Besides, why would someone break in just to make a mess and eat our food?’

Missa shuddered. ‘I don't know, but it's creeping me out.’

Phil hugged him. ‘Don't worry. We'll figure this out. What do you say we set up some security cameras? Then we'll know what's really going on.’

So they did, they bought cameras and installed them, it turned out their house wasn't haunted or infested with raccoons, there were kids in their house, their house was invaded by two little kids at night. 

Chapter Text

When you're a teenager you often do stupid things, like drink and smoke, kick mailboxes, have unprotected sex, well the list goes on and on. But this was definitely the stupidest thing Philza had ever done in his entire life. 

Why, you ask? Well, he revived the god of death with a kiss. 

Yes, they had been drinking, but it was the last night of his senior year, Philza was the only one without a date for prom, Fit, Cellbit, Charlie and even Foolish, were teasing him because he had never kissed in his life. 

They were doing the only thing teenagers do in a small town, walking around and drinking beer, until, without quite knowing how, they came to the cemetery. 

They jumped over the fence and started eating Doritos and biscuits at the foot of the statue of the god of death. 

It was very cold in the cemetery, but with so much beer in their bodies they didn't really feel it, between jokes, the subject of Phil's first kiss came up again. 

‘How come you haven't had your first kiss, Philza?’ asked Roier, genuinely interested in the answer. 

‘Yes, Philza, how?’ scoffed Cellbit, taking advantage of his boyfriend's question.

‘Uh… well, unlike you guys, I need my grades to be near perfect to get scholarships.’ Philza said, taking a big gulp from her can. 

Fit let out a laugh, ‘Fucking orphan.’ 

‘Shut up, baldy .’ Philza said, throwing the empty can at Fit. 

Fit dodged the can, which landed on Pac who was sitting next to him, ‘Oops, offended the prince.’ Fit laughed. 

‘Hey, maybe what Phil needs,’ said Charlie, leaning on his boyfriend, Mariana, ’is a little help from the supernatural.’ He said, pointing upwards. 

They all looked up, the statue of the god of death, Moris , was standing there, his closed eyes and skull mask glowed almost like something mysterious, his scythe was what held him up, and his robes rather flattered him, no doubt the god was a beautiful thing to behold. 

Philza snorted, though he wasn't going to deny that the idea intrigued him, but he wasn't going to admit that, ‘Don't be ridiculous.’ 

‘Dare, dare,’ his friends began to chant, which angered Philza, who staggered to his feet. 

‘Bet?’ said Phil, clearly not in his five senses, ’look at me.’ 

A couple of shouts of victory were what followed on his short walk up the pedestal with the statue. 

‘That must be illegalisimo ,’ he heard Vegetta say, ’or at least not very hygienic.’ 

Philza closed his eyes and planted his lips on the statue's cold lips, for a moment everyone fell silent as he heard a couple of claps of thunder fall. 

‘Shit!’ shouted Foolish, ’Let's go before it starts raining!’

So they ran, like the rats in Ratatouille, each one for home, praying that it wouldn't start raining before they got home. 

Philza didn't really think much of what had happened, until in the early hours of the morning, around 4am, she opened her eyes and a man was standing in her room. 

Philza sat up with a start, opening his eyes wide, in front of him was a teenager about his age, his black hair reached his shoulders, his eyes shone like galaxies, his skin was pale as if the sunlight hadn't touched him, his black clothes looked as if the universe itself had folded to create the fabric. 

‘Who? Who are you?’ shrieked Philza, cornering himself between the wall and his bed, ’What are you doing here?’ 

‘But, querido , don't you remember,’ the boy said, ’you kissed me today, I am Missa, you woke me up, now you are mine.’

A shiver ran down his spine, what on earth had he got himself into?

Chapter Text

After the god left, Philza lay in bed tossing and turning, trying to think what the fuck had just happened. Should he tell his foster mother? No, Rose probably might have an aneurysm. 

Philza tossed and turned in bed, his mind whirling like a hurricane, he was the centre, but it wasn't quiet, the centre of the hurricane for once wasn't silent. 

He could hear Rose's disappointed voice, she had fought so hard to have custody of him and save him from the eye of the hurricane he lived in. Only out of the kindness of her heart, what could he tell her, that in a moment of sheer stupidity he bound her soul to that of death?

Philza sighed, running his hands through his hair, How was I supposed to say this to Rose, he thought, Hey, mum, remember you told me not to do anything stupid last night? Well I linked my soul with the god of death, but don't worry he doesn't want to kill me, he's just a possessive freak, the thought made him let out a nervous laugh, but the laugh died quickly in his throat. 

He rolled over in bed, staring at the ceiling, what if he didn't say anything? After all, it felt like a drunken dream or hallucination… No, he couldn't lie to Rose, not after everything she had done for him, besides Missa couldn't be real, could he? His eyes were too deep, his lips too perfect, his presence was too… divine. 

No, he couldn't be thinking like that about a God, he couldn't be thinking like that about death. If he went on like this he was probably going to go nuts, and he was only seventeen, he couldn't go nuts so young, he didn't even know what he wanted to study yet. 

The sudden light in his room startled him, standing in front of him, again, was Missa, those galaxies she had for eyes piercing him again. 

‘I can hear you thinking, querido , you worry me.’ Said the god, in that sickly sweet tone with which he addresses Phil. 

Phil himself startled, genuinely scared of what the god might do to him, ‘What are you doing here?’ 

‘Can't a God care about his beloved?’ he said with an intoxicating sweet smile. 

‘I'm not your beloved, I'm just a stupid drunk who kissed a statue on a dare.’ 

Missa laughed, ‘Even Persephone ate the pomegranate seeds by mistake.’ 

Philza felt his heart race at the comparison. ‘I'm not Persephone,’ he said, trying to sound firm despite the tremor in his voice. ‘And you are not Hades.’

Missa tilted his head, his smile never wavering. ‘No, you're right. We're much more interesting than they are, don't you think?’

Philza pressed himself against the wall, as if he could melt into it and escape this situation. ‘Missa, please. This… this can't be real. You can't just claim me because I kissed a statue.’

‘Oh, querido ,’ Missa moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. Philza could feel the chill emanating from his body. ‘I don't claim you just because of the kiss. I claim you because you are special. Because you woke me up when no one else could in millennia.’

Philza swallowed, his eyes fixed on Missa's. It was like looking straight into the cosmos, beautiful and terrifying at the same time. ‘But… but I'm nobody special. I'm just a normal kid, with normal problems. I have a foster mother who cares about me, friends who dare me to do stupid things, grades I need to keep up with to get scholarships, and ordinary problems, I'm just ordinary, Missa.’

Missa reached out a hand, almost touching Philza's cheek but stopping millimetres from his skin. ‘And yet it was you who brought me back. That makes you extraordinary, Philza.’

Philza closed his eyes, unable to hold Missa's gaze any longer. ‘I can't… I can't handle this. I'm seventeen, for God's sake. Not only that, but I can't be tied to death.’

‘Age is irrelevant to immortals, querido ,’ Missa whispered. ‘And as for being bound to death? Aren't all mortals, in one way or another?’ Said the God, an almost beautiful smile plastered on his face.

Philza's eyes snapped open, surprised by the depth of those words. ‘I… I don't know what to say.’

Missa smiled, and for a moment, Philza saw more than possessiveness in those cosmic eyes. He saw loneliness, he saw longing, he saw what more than a millennium of loneliness could do in a man. ‘You don't have to say anything, Philza. You just have to accept that this is real. That I am real. That what binds us together is real.’

‘But what about my life?’ asked Philza, his voice barely a whisper. ‘What do I tell Rose? My friends?’

Missa rose, his ethereal figure glowing softly in the gloom of the room. ‘That, my dear Philza, is something we will have to discover together. After all, we have all eternity ahead of us.’

With these words, Missa began to glow, his room smelled of marigolds, the sound of crows rang out and thunder rolled in the distance.

‘Wait,’ Philza said, surprising himself. ‘Will you come back?’

Missa's smile was the last thing to fade. ‘Always, querido . I will always be with you.’

And with that, Philza was left alone again in his room, his body trembling and the floor of his room littered with orange petals and black feathers. Philza was left questioning what had just happened. 

Chapter Text

Philza staggered through the corridors of the school, he had slept little and nothing, the image of Missa standing in his room made him tremble, he didn't know whether from fear or excitement, everything about Missa felt almost forbidden, as if the mere thought of the God was illegal, as if the mention of his name was a crime and as if the presence of it itself a sin. 

‘Hey, Philza!’ Fit's shout in his ear snapped him out of his reverie, ‘Hell, you look like you've seen a ghost, dude.’ 

Something like that, Phil thought humorously, ‘Ha ha ha, I just had one of those nights, Fit.’ 

‘Everything all right?’ his friend asked, concerned for him. ‘Is it about your parents, again?’ 

Philza smiled at him, ‘no, no, nothing like that,’ he said then sighed, ‘it's just something that… it's not really that important, I have to process it first, that's all.’ 

Fit gave him one of those bright, full smiles, ‘Well if you're having trouble don't forget my ma will always welcome you home with a plate of meatballs.’ 

‘Thanks, Fit.’ 

‘Nah nonsense, all for my brother,’ he said slapping Philza on the back, ’Come on, we've got history lessons with Monsieur Etoiles.’ 

Phil sighed, ‘Go on, I'll catch up with you, I'm going to get my sketchbook out, if I hear Etoiles talking about columns from the Romanesque period one more time with nothing to do I'll kill myself.’ Philza said, making a hanging sound. 

Fit laughed, motioned for her to hurry up and grabbed Pac by the waist, giving him a slightly over the top kiss.

‘Fit, Pac!’ shouted Principal Halo from his place at the end of the hallway, ’This is a school, not a motel.’ 

Phil chuckled, and searched through his things for his sketchbook, but couldn't seem to find it, ‘Looking for this?’ said a voice he knew too well for Phil's liking. 

‘Missa!’ shrieked Phil quietly, “What are you doing here?” he said in a whisper, taking his notebook in his hands. 

‘Can't I visit you, dear?’ asked the God, those galaxies glowing with some mischief. 

‘No,’ squeaked Philza, “I'm late, goodbye,” he said disappearing down the corridor. 

‘ Adiós, querido ,’ said Missa, his words almost like a whisper on the wind. 

Philza tried to ignore him, he sat down in his seat next to Fit and Pac, ready to ignore whatever it was they were going to study in history and draw something, anything, so he could breathe a little, but as he opened his notebook there was an extremely detailed drawing of him on the first page, there was a sentence below the drawing. 

Para mi cuervito, xoxoxo, Missa

Philza felt a shiver run down his spine. Why couldn't Missa leave him alone? He just wants to be left alone, and live his life in peace, was that too much to ask?

Philza felt a shiver run down his spine, why couldn't Missa just leave him alone? He just wants to be quiet, and live his life in peace, was that too much to ask?

‘Woah,’ Monsieur Etoiles said, ’I didn't know you could draw so well, Philza.’ 

‘No, it's not mine, sir.’ Said Phil, turning the page to an empty one, ‘thanks anyway.’ 

‘Bonjour à tous!’ Everyone responded with a dry ‘Bonjour Monsieur Etoiles’ causing the professor to roll his eyes at the lack of enthusiasm, ‘Today we're going to talk about gods, and I wanted to start with one of my favourite gods, Moris, God of Death.’ 

No way, Missa was chasing him, he couldn't leave him alone. 

‘Moris,’ explained Etoiles, ’is, in addition to the god of death, the guardian god of children and unjust deaths, legend has it that his first love, Philip, was taken from him at a young age, he spent his entire mortal life searching for the culprit, upon seeing his efforts, the goddess of death, Trixtin, gave him an immortal life for his endeavour.’ 

‘Hey Phil,’ Fit said with a laugh, “isn't that the statue you kissed?” he said loud enough for the whole class to hear.

All the colour drained from Phil's face, suddenly he was the centre of attention, and it made him want the earth to swallow him up. Monsieur Etoiles let out a chuckle. 

‘’My, my, kissing gods at this age, Monsieur Watson?’ he said with a hint of derision, “Don't you know that could get you into trouble?” 

Well, Philza would have liked someone to have told him that before he had kissed the statue in the graveyard. ‘I didn't know that, sir.’  

‘In many ancient legends,’ said the professor, ‘there is mention of the love that Moris, or Missa, has for one particular soul, the soul of his beloved Felipe, it is told that, the god only appears for that soul, because Felipe's soul and the god's soul are bound together for all eternity.’’ 

Great, now I'm bound to a weirdo god for the rest of my fucking life. He grumbled in his mind, he could see how the professor kept looking at him, as if something wasn't right with him. 

‘Mr. Watson, you seem overly concerned about this, what do you think of the god?’ 

He is incredibly annoying and clingy, ‘If he was so good, why doesn't he leave Felipe's soul alone?’ 

‘Because you're mine, cuervito’ a breeze rushed through the room and that's what Philza heard, the simple answer to his eternal damnation.

Chapter Text

The breeze was blowing over the wall, it was that warm, almost sweet breeze that autumn evenings always bring. Missa was walking around the potato farm because he needed a moment of peace, don't get it wrong, Missa loves his family, but sometimes he just needed a moment to be quiet with his thoughts and to be able to hear where she will send him on his next mission. 

He was enjoying the afternoon sun on his skin, when he felt the sound of footsteps approaching where he was. He recognised the footsteps immediately, Philza, it brought an immediate smile to his lips. 

 But he didn't turn around, he knew that at some point the blond would catch up, and so he did, in a moment Missa felt her boyfriend's arms around her waist and a hard kiss on her cheek. 

‘Hey, mate ~’ Missa smiled as he heard his lover's voice in his ear, ‘What are you doing out here all alone?’

‘Talking a little with the goddess,’ Missa replied, snuggling Phil into his neck. 

‘Do you have to leave so soon, darling?’ Missa could hear the pout in Philza's voice. 

Missa turned to look at him, the sunlight reflected off his hair, and his blue eyes sparkled like a bright river current, Missa was right, Philza was pouting. He gave him a smile and started smoothing Phil's hair, then gave him a kiss on the pout. 

‘You know I wouldn't leave,’ he said with a smile, ’but duty calls, querido .’ 

Phil wrinkled his nose, still pouting. ‘But the children miss you so much.’ 

Missa felt her heart melt at Philza's adorable expression. Leaning down, he gave him another soft kiss, this time on the tip of her nose.

‘Do only children miss me?’ asked Missa, his voice tinged with amusement.

Philza finally let out a small smile. ‘Well, maybe I miss you a little too,’ he admitted, his arms tightening around Missa's waist.

‘Just a little? Missa arched an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with affection.

‘Alright, Alright,’ Philza chuckled softly, ’I miss you terribly. The house isn't the same without you.’

Missa leaned his forehead against Philza's, their noses brushing against each other. ‘And I miss all of you every second I'm away,’ he whispered. ‘But you know I always come back, don't you? I always come back to you, to our children, to our home.’

Philza closed his eyes, enjoying the closeness. ‘I know, darling. It's just… sometimes I wish I could freeze time, hold these moments forever.’

‘Mmm,’ Missa murmured in agreement, ’But then we wouldn't have the thrill of reunions, would we?’

Philza's eyes widened, a mischievous smile forming on his lips. ‘I suppose you're right. Welcome back kisses are pretty special.’

‘Oh?’ Missa smiled, ’And how about goodbye kisses?’

Without waiting for an answer, Missa closed the distance between them, capturing Philza's lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Philza responded with equal fervour, one hand sliding to the back of Missa's neck to draw him closer.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their cheeks flushed.

‘Well,’ Philza gasped lightly, ’if that's a goodbye kiss, it's almost worth you leaving.’

Missa giggled, tapping him playfully on the shoulder. ‘Silly,’ he said fondly. ‘Come on, let's go home. I want to spend as much time with you as I can before I leave.’

Hand in hand, they began walking back to Casa Bonita, the sun slowly setting on the horizon. 

Chapter Text

It had been a while since he had signed his marriage contract, the ceremony was due to take place in a couple more weeks and everyone in the palace was going crazy, they had to accommodate a lot of nobles, royalty, and gods. 

Missa was bored with all the preparations, tired of the maids poking and prodding and measuring, but most of all he was fed up with Philza. Always nagging, always complaining that Missa didn't know what he was doing, in reality Missa didn't know what he was doing, and worst of all.

“If you were a real god, you would know all this.” Complained Philza again, Missa clenched her jaw, because she knew that if he opened his mouth this alliance would be over instantly. 

The patience of both was at its limit. The palace tensions grew and grew, Missa stood by while the maids poked and prodded and bored him with their deadly chatter. Until Philza burst in, one of his guards following close behind. 

“Missael, move,” he said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of the room. 

“Hey, watch it, mortal!” Missa said, pulling his arm from the emperor, being careful not to kill him. ‘What's wrong with you?’

Philza turned around, somewhat annoyed, but he looked concerned, something in his eyes glowing with something akin to urgency and anxiety. 

“For once in your immortal fucking life could you do as you're told without question,” Philza replied irritably, Philza.

“No!” Missa snarled at him, finally releasing his grip, “If you don't tell me what the fuck is going on, I'm not going with you!”

Philza sighed in frustration, “Some rebels and lesser gods are attacking the palace, apparently they appreciate our union as much as we do.” 

Missa's eyes widened in surprise, “Who would be stupid enough to attack the Arctic Empire?”

Philza let out a bitter laugh. “Apparently, a group of lesser gods who think our union will unbalance the power in the pantheon. And some mortals who think I'm betraying the empire by marrying a foreign god.”

Missa frowned, processing the information. “Well, I suppose they're right about one thing: neither of us wanted this marriage in the first place.”

For a moment, something akin to grief crossed Philza's eyes, but it disappeared so quickly that Missa thought he had imagined it.

“That doesn't matter now,” Philza said, his voice turning serious. “What matters is that they're attacking my people, my home. And believe it or not, that includes you now.”

Missa felt a pang of guilt. Despite their differences, Philza was trying to protect him. Missa was silent for a couple of seconds. The idea that he a minor god, was now part of the most powerful empire in this dimension because of a mere commitment to his mother was almost chilling. 

Yet here he was trapped in a marriage he hadn't asked for, being attacked for reasons he didn't understand. 

“And what am I supposed to do?” the god asked, almost offended.

Philza looked sideways at him, his voice a little softer this time, “Protect what is yours… even if you don't want to accept it. This is no longer just my kingdom, it's yours too, darling. ” 

The god was surprised at the emperor's statement, your kingdom , he had never thought of it, to him the Arctic Empire was a cold and distant place, just another burden, not something that belonged to him. But the way Philza said it, that seriousness and conviction, made him take the threat more seriously. 

This was no longer a game. 

Missa was silent for a moment, processing Philza's words. The reality of his situation was beginning to settle in his mind. He was no longer just a minor god trapped in an unwanted marriage; he was now part of something bigger, something that people were willing to attack and defend.

“My kingdom,” Missa murmured, testing how the words sounded in his mouth. He looked at Philza, his eyes shining with a new determination. “You're right. This isn't a game any more.”

Philza nodded, a small smile of approval curving his lips. “I'm glad you understand. Now, we need to move. Are you ready to defend what's yours?”

Missa summoned his scythe, the weapon materialising in his hands in a swirl of dark energy. “More than ready. What's the plan, Emperor?”

“First, we need to get to the throne room,” Philza said, unsheathing his own sword. “From there, we can access the secret passages and regroup our forces.”

They began to move through the corridors of the palace, the sound of battle growing louder and louder. Missa was surprised at how natural it felt to fight alongside Philza, as if they had been doing it for centuries.

As they fought their way through a group of attackers, Missa couldn't help but notice the grace and power with which Philza moved. It was almost… supernatural.

“You know,” Missa said, dodging an attack and counterattacking with his scythe, “for a mortal, you fight like you've had centuries of experience.’’

Philza laughed, a sound that somehow managed to be both amused and dangerous. “Maybe there's more to me than you think, little death .”

Chapter Text

Life in the nursery has always been quiet for Missa, it was him, the soft little rag doll, Roier, Cellbit and Bagi, the spider and kitten stuffed animals in little clothes, Maximus, a little wooden horse, and Mariana and Charlie, a Barbie and Ken, well until Chayanne came home to his little girl, Tallulah, and brought with him Etoiles, Pierre, Antoine, and Baghera, an army of little wooden soldiers, Foolish, a big rubber shark, Philza, an action man, and Vegetta, a stuffed wolf.

In Missa's simple opinion, the boy toys were savages, lacked manners, and never minded his delicate seams, well maybe almost all of them except Vegetta, the wolf was a true gentleman.  

Chayanne was an energetic and chaotic boy, always creating passionate stories, tales of pirates, intergalactic ships and knights in shining armour, Philza was always the hero of those adventures. 

Now that Chayanne and Tallulah were playing together, Missa found himself being the helpless victim more and more often. Missa didn't mind because he usually sat comfortably in his little chair and waited to be ‘rescued’ by Philza, but the knight was anything but a gentleman.  

‘Watch out!’ shouted Chayanne, as he slammed Philza's hard plastic body into Missa's rag, making popping sounds, ’I've come to save you Missa!’ 

‘Chay! Missa is a little rag doll,’ Tallulah shouted back, snatching the doll from her brother's hands, ’you have to be careful with him.’ 

Missa felt the warmth of the little girl's hand caressing her rag doll skin, and if his smile wasn't stitched, he would have smiled wider.

‘If you want to play with me, you play the way I want,’ the boy told her, for all the mother-of-pearl buttons, how rude boys were , Missa thought. 

Philza lay on the ground, unmoving and oblivious to the fight, but Missa could swear the knight's plastic was itching to spring into action, to jump up, stand at attention, shout ‘hangar’ and draw his sword. 

Tallulah stroked the woollens on Missa's head, ignoring her brother for now, his girl smiled at him, and murmuring said, ‘Ignore them Missa, I'll take care of you.’ 

Though he could not answer her, Missa felt it. Tallulah's words were like a silent promise that echoed inside him. Every time the girl treated him with such affection, Missa felt lucky to be her favourite toy, safe from the turbulent and frantic stories that Chayanne and Philza brought with them.

‘Kids, dinner!’ That was one of the children's parents, that meant bedtime was approaching and everyone's favourite part of the day in the nursery toys was beginning. 

‘Come on, Tallulah!’ shouted Chayanne, quickly forgetting the squabble. 

‘I'm going to say, good night, first.’ Said Tallulah , Ay, coloured threads, at last, thought Missa.

‘Ugh!’ How rude , ’Girls, always so sentimental.’ Said the boy then ran off to the dining room. 

Tallulah picked Philza up off the floor, ‘Sorry, Sir Philza, my brother isn't very careful, but don't worry, you can spend the night with Missa, he's soft.’ 

Tallulah set them both down on a little bed, ‘Goodnight Missa, goodnight Philza.’ Said the girl, giving each of them a kiss on the forehead. 

‘Good night, Cellbit, Bagi and Roier,’ said the girl, changing them into their nightclothes and tucking them into their beds. 

‘Good night, Maximus, tomorrow morning I will bring you more hay.’ Said the girl, combing the mane of the wooden horse. 

‘Good night, Mariana and Charlie,’ the girl tucked the plastic dolls into their doll house. 

‘Good night, Etoiles, Pierre, Antoine, and Baghera, you can rest now, soldiers.’ Said the little girl, taking off their little hats and putting away their weapons. 

‘Good night, Foolish, may you dream of little fishes.’ Said the girl, stroking the shark's fin.

‘And good night, Mr. Vegetta,’ said the little girl giving the wolf's fur a kiss, ’have a nice night and sweet dreams, little toys.’ The little girl said goodbye. 

As the little girl stepped out of the nursery, the toys came to life.

Chapter Text

The booming sound of the speakers and the screams of the fans really got him excited, the adrenaline coursed through his veins and the excitement made him want to jump in place. 

‘Missa! Missa!’ he could hear them chanting from their place backstage, shouting his name, eager for his presence. 

Come on Missa, you're the best, he encouraged himself a little before putting his presence on stage, ‘Good night, Quesadilla Island!’

It was the final night of the singing competition being held on the main island, Missa was originally from Karmaland, a small island near Quesadilla, from a little town called ‘Minecraft Extreme’ this was his chance to succeed. 

‘Are you ready for the best night of your lives!’ shouted Missa. 

The crowd went wild. Missa loved that power he had over the audience, how he could get excited so easily, but he knew this wasn't going to be easy. Philza was also in the competition, and despite his public belittling, he knew how talented Philza was. 

Missa smiled as he heard the soundtrack to ‘Good luck, babe!’ And he smiled even more as he saw Philza standing in the audience, this was his chance. 

With a dramatic gesture, Missa approached the edge of the stage, her eyes fixed on Philza. The audience followed his gaze, and a murmur of anticipation rippled through the crowd. Everyone knew the history between them, the romance that had blossomed and died so publicly.

‘This song,’ Missa announced, her voice charged with emotion, ’is for someone special. Someone who used to know me better than anyone else.’

Missa rested his gaze on Philza, the blonde tensed, he was sure he could feel Kristin's surprised gaze beside him, looking at Missa as if she'd just solved a puzzle. 

Missa wasn't going to lie, he was enjoying it, he was enjoying it a lot, he was wallowing in Philza's discomfort, and he couldn't be happier. When the bridge came, she intentionally moved closer to Philza, an almost macabre smile on her lips. 

‘When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night.’ She said walking down to the stalls, ‘With your head in your hands, she's nothing more than your wife’ Missa turned his gaze to Kristin, ‘And when you think about me all of those years ago, You're standing face to face with “I told you so”’ Missa was standing in front of Philza, ‘You know I hate to say it, I told you so, You know I hate to say, but I told you so’ he said in a whisper to Philza. 

Philza pursed his lips in annoyance, but could not find the words to respond to the one he thought was the love of his life. His mind swirled between anger, humiliation and something else he couldn't identify, something buried under layers of pride and resentment. But before he could react, Kristin intervened.

‘This isn't just about the competition, is it?’ She told him, looking at him as her best friend almost pityingly. ‘It's about him.’  

‘No,’ Philza muttered, ’I'm not going to let him humiliate me, I'm THE Philza Minecraft, a little boy from Karmaland isn't going to make fun of me.’

Kristin frowned, recognising the determination in her friend's voice. ‘Phil, don't do anything rash. Remember why we're here.’

But Philza didn't seem to hear her. With a sudden movement, he turned around and began to push his way through the crowd, heading for the backstage area.

‘Where are you going?’ Kristin asked, raising her voice to make herself heard over the music and the shouts of the crowd.

‘To prepare for my performance,’ Philza replied without turning around. ‘It's time to remind everyone who I am.’

Chapter Text

Philza, Techno and Tommy had been walking for days, only resting for a couple of hours until they reached the next town, travelling from town, to town, to find contracts, until they reached Karmaland. 

It was a small town, near a river and a forest, with beautiful sunflower fields and corn crops. Peculiar cuisine and more peculiar locals, but it was a good place to spend the winter, away from the cold walls of L'Manburg. 

“Ah” said Tommy running to the stream, “Fresh water” shouted the teenager bending down to drink. 

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” said a voice on the other side of the stream, “a little further up, the laundresses do the washing.”

Philza looked up to see the most beautiful man he had ever seen, his hair as black as ebony, his skin as pale as snow, and his eyes as purple as amethysts. 

Tommy stopped dead in his tracks inches from the water, Techno, out of habit and caution, gripped the hilt of his sword handle.

“Thank you for the warning,” Philza said, taking Tommy by the shoulder, pulling him close to her side, shielding him from the stranger, “We are travellers, from L'Manburg Do you know where there might be an inn?”

The man smiled at them, “Of course, I know a place. Follow me, the bridge is a few yards further on.” He said pointing to the west, “I'm Missa, Missa Sinfonia, by the way, a pleasure.”

“I'm Philza Minecraft, these are my sons, Technoblade and Tommy Innit.” Philza said, taking Carl by the reins and following the karmalience along the bank of the stream. 

Missa laughed, “Aren't you a little young to be a father?” the lad asked. 

Philza laughed too, “Well, I say they're my children, but they're more like little pests that have stuck to me along the way.”

Both boys grumbled, “He's not even that young,” Tommy complained. 

“He's a decrepit old man, he's even hallucinating now, he actually thinks he has a wife.” Techno said, signalling that Phil was crazy. 

Philza rolled her eyes, “I have a wife, she's a goddess, yes, but she's completely real.”

Missa watched them with curiosity and amusement, “An etarian, a piglin, a puppy and a goddess,’ she said to no one in particular, “you'll fit right in Karmaland.”

As they crossed the bridge, Missa led them quickly to a house, it had a stable outside and a sign that read, “ El Chiringuito de Juan ”, when Missa stopped, the three of them stopped in their tracks. 

“Illo!” Missa shouted at the top of his lungs, “I brought you guests!”

From inside emerged a man, wearing a pink shirt, a straw hat, white shorts, sandals, and a cigar between his lips, “Missa, what a good man, come in, come in.”

Night fell over Karmaland, the air thick and heavy with the rustle of the forest. Philza, Techno and Tommy settled into the beach bar, enjoying a decent meal after days on the road. Philza, however, could not get the conversation he had had with Juan, the owner of the inn, about the ‘beast’ that inhabited the nearby woods out of his mind.

“They say it is a demon, a creature that has never been seen, but everyone has felt its presence. The villagers don't even dare to go near its territory. What's more, some don't return,” Juan had warned, his eyes fixed on Philza.

Philza, being a monster hunter, knew that this meant a lucrative contract. If he managed to hunt the beast, he would not only get good pay, but also the respect of the people.

“That wolf from the legends? Is it real?” asked Tommy, excited by the idea of a new adventure.

“Oh sure, kid,” said Illo, releasing the smoke from his cigar, “You guys hunt monsters, right? You should talk to Lolo, he's the mayor, that critter has been buggin‘ us for months.”

That was enough for Philza to decide to go after the beast. 

(…) 

The man had brought a cub to the entrance of Missa's territory, that cub now belonged to Missa.

Naively, the cub had decided to go after the ‘beast’ on his own. And Missa smiled as he watched the blond walk towards the entrance of his territory. Was the man so careless not to take care of the most precious part of his clan?

The moonlight illuminated the forest, making it seem a little less gloomy, as Tommy moved deeper and deeper into the forest, armed with an iron sword and his bravery, he advanced through the rustling trees. It was clear to Missa that the cub had gone into his forest only to prove to the rest of his team that he was brave. 

He vaguely remembered the conversation the cub and his father had had at the inn, how the younger blond was not prepared to hunt on his own. 

Missa watched him curiously, his eyes glowing a curious amber colour, his paws touching the earth carefully, following the scent of the pup, a soft scent of sweet apple, innocence and mint, the last scent must have belonged to Philza, and marked him as a member of her pack. Humans were extremely careless with their young, leaving them to roam unprotected in unfamiliar territory. It was a shame, but if Philza wasn't going to take care of the cub, Missa would. 

The sound of rustling leaves and a snapping branch alerted the wolf and the pup, who nervously raised his sword even higher. 

“Hey bitch,” said the boy, “come out, I'm not afraid of you.”

That was a lie, Missa could smell how nervous the boy was. And well if the boy was going to be so rude, Missa was going to teach him a lesson.

A low, guttural growl echoed through the trees, making the leaves tremble. Tommy spun around, trying to locate the source of the sound, but the echo of the forest made it impossible. Cold sweat was beginning to trickle down his back, and his hand trembled slightly as he held the sword.

Missa moved through the shadows, his paws barely skimming the leaf-covered ground. He was much larger in his wolf form, his night-black fur blending into the darkness of the forest, only his amber eyes shining like beacons in the gloom. He decided to play a little with his prey, after all, pups needed to learn manners.

Another growl, this time closer, right behind Tommy. The boy turned sharply, but found only darkness.

“H-hello?” Tommy's voice didn't sound so brave any more, “Look, you stupid beast, if you don't come out right now, I'll-”

A howl cut through the air, so close that Tommy could feel the hot breath on the back of his neck. He froze in place, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. Slowly, very slowly, he turned around.

There, less than a metre away, stood the beast. A gigantic wolf, bigger than any animal Tommy had ever seen, stared at him with eyes that glittered like molten gold. Its fangs, white and sharp as daggers, gleamed in the moonlight.

The sword slipped from Tommy's trembling hands, falling with a thud onto the dry leaves.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered.

Chapter Text

Philza, for the most part, was a rational man, he didn't believe in the supernatural for the simple fact that spooks had their dimension and his wife and boyfriend did an excellent job of keeping it that way. But Philza was superstitious, he would panic at the sight of a magpie, he would uncross knives on the table, he wouldn't let anyone put their shoes on the table, he never went under ladders, and you'd never see him opening an umbrella indoors. 

Missa found that endearing, after all he was death, this sort of thing was nothing more than old wives' tales to “scare off” bad luck. But he let his boyfriend do this sort of thing anyway, because his boyfriend could sleep peacefully in the arms of death, but he would never do the laundry on a Sunday to avoid washing away good luck. 

Tallulah always found her father's superstitions hilarious, it was so funny to see her father running around the house, putting horseshoes, scurrying magpies or hanging marigold flowers in the windows.  And Chayanne, though he played tough and indifferent like his dad Missa, always made a point of throwing salt over his shoulder if he spilled it and hung Tallulah's hat on the coat rack instead of the bed. 

Missa would never forget the time Philza almost had a heart attack when Chayanne put his new boots on the kitchen table. The blond had walked in just then and almost dropped his cup of tea.

‘For the love of all that's holy, Chay! Get those shoes off the table!’ shrieked Philza, rushing to remove the boots. ‘Do you want all the bad luck in the world to fall on us?’

Missa, who was preparing dinner, had to stifle a giggle. It was adorable to see the fearsome Angel of Death fussing over a pair of boots on the table.

‘But Dad,’ protested Chayanne, ‘I just wanted to show Lullah the drawings I did on them…’’

‘Why can't he put the boots on the table?’ asked Tallulah with signs, genuinely curious.

‘Because it's bad luck, princess,’ Philza explained as he placed the boots on the floor as carefully as if they were explosive. ‘Like opening umbrellas indoors or…’

‘Or like doing laundry on a Sunday,’ Missa interrupted with a mischievous grin, ’right, dear?’

Philza gave him a look that was intended to be serious, but ended up being affectionate. ‘You tease me now, but when I lived alone and washed on Sundays, terrible things always happened to me.’

‘Like what?’ asked Chayanne, now intrigued.

‘Well, one time I washed one Sunday and the next day all my chickens stopped laying eggs for a week.’

Tallulah began to laugh quietly, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

‘It's true!’ Philza insisted, though a smile tugged at his lips. ‘And again…’

Missa listened to his boyfriend's stories fondly. He, who had seen the birth and death of countless civilizations, found a special charm in how Philza kept these little traditions alive. Perhaps because, at the end of the day, these superstitions were a way of keeping alive the memory of those who came before, and that was something Death could appreciate.

Chapter Text

Philza was clearly going insane. He didn't want to think about the god following him up and down. Denying any mention of the god, or any ‘gifts’ the god left in his things. 

But Missa seemed to enjoy every second of it, Philza seemed to hear the god's restrained laughter whenever he found a flower, a note, a shiny stone or a feather, almost as if Missa was toying with him. 

Philza crumpled up another note he had found in his backpack, “Very funny, Missa, very funny.” He mumbled through his teeth. 

“What's funny?” Rose asked, watching as her son struggled alone with his backpack, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything's fine,” Phil said putting on his backpack, “Fit put one of those stupid little notes he likes to put on my backpack.”

Rose looked at him confused for a moment then shook her head slightly, taking a sip of her coffee, “I have a 12-hour shift today, are you going to be okay?”

Phil laughed, “I'm not 10 years old any more, Rose.”

The woman laughed too, “I know, I know, you're a big boy, but I can't help but worry about you, If your dad comes over to the house, will you call me? Won't you face him on your own? Promise me that.”

Philza smiled warmly at her mother, “Don't worry, Rose, I'm not going to do anything stupid.”

Rose looked at him a moment longer, with that mixture of concern and love that only a mother could show. “You better,” she said softly, before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I know you're strong, but you don't have to carry everything alone.”

Philza nodded, though he knew that, in truth, there were many things he was already carrying alone, things he couldn't explain even to his mother. Missa's constant presence was one of them. “I promise, Mum.”

She grabbed her bag and headed for the door, but before she left, she turned one last time. “I love you, Phil. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“I love you too, Rose,” he replied, and watched as his mother disappeared out the door.

When he was finally alone, he let out a long sigh, letting the mask of calm he had worn throughout the conversation fade. He knew Missa was near. He felt it, as always, that almost tangible presence.

“Aren't you adorable?” Philza rolled his eyes, of course Missa was going to be here, "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to make my breakfast," Phil replied, mashing an avocado for his toast, "Which is proving rather difficult having a stalker god watching me, don't you have divine duties to attend to?"

“Hmm,” Missa said, pretending to be thinking, “no, nothing more interesting, nothing would ever be more interesting than you.”

Philza snorted, he knew the god was just teasing him, “I've told you a million times, I'm nothing special.”

“Nothing special?” Missa appeared sitting on the kitchen counter, right next to Phil's avocado, “Are you telling me that any mortal can do…” With a dramatic gesture, he pointed to the toast Phil was preparing, “…such a perfectly mashed avocado?”

Phil didn't even look up. “Literally anyone can make this.”

“Oh, so anyone can see a god of death and just ignore him while he makes his breakfast?” Missa leaned closer, his grin growing wider and wider. “Anyone can find my gifts and simply crumple them up like they are propaganda papers?”

“Your ‘presents’ were in MY backpack,” Phil pointed the knife at the aforementioned object. “You know it's rude to rummage through other people's belongings?”

Missa gasped dramatically, holding a hand to her chest. “You're lecturing me on manners? Me? A millennial god?”

“Clearly, someone has to,” Phil muttered, spreading the avocado on his bread. “Thousands of years and you never learned to knock.”

“Doors are for mortals,” Missa waved his hand scornfully, but his mischievous grin did not diminish. “Besides, where would the fun be in that? I love watching you try to explain to people why you talk to yourself.”

Phil finally looked up, narrowing his eyes. “You know, for a god of death, you're surprisingly childish.”

“And for a mortal, you're surprisingly grumpy,” Missa countered, materializing a black feather and dropping it on Phil's toast. "How about a little decoration for your breakfast?"

“Missa…”

“Yes, my dear favourite mortal?”

“You have three seconds to remove that feather from my breakfast before I start reciting prayers to other gods.”

Missa's laughter filled the kitchen as the feather disappeared into thin air. “See, this is why you're special, Phil. Not just anyone would threaten a god of death over breakfast.”

Chapter Text

The Emperor of the Arctic Empire was never late for his meetings, but today he needed those extra minutes. Not to prepare himself mentally as he had argued before his council, but to calm the inexplicable nervousness that had been gnawing at him since he learned that the son of death had arrived in his lands.

As he walked the icy corridors of his palace, his black wings fluttered with a mixture of anticipation and irritation. An arranged marriage. To a minor god. The idea should have repulsed him, but curiosity consumed him.

When he finally opened the mahogany double doors, time seemed to stand still. The first thing he noticed were those purple eyes, shining like gemstones, framed by markings that reminded him of a jaguar. The son of death was fascinating: his tanned skin contrasted with the immaculate white of the room, and there was something in his bearing that reminded her of the ancient Aztec warriors who once visited their land. Restrained power, ancestral pride, savage beauty.

“Sorry for the delay,” he announced, keeping his voice steady even though his heart had decided to behave erratically. His eyes roamed the room out of politeness: Techno, his old friend, with his blood cup; Catrina, elegant as ever; but inevitably back to Missa, as if drawn by a magnet.

Phil held out his hand, genuinely eager to make contact. “You must be Missa.” The name felt like honey on his tongue.

The minor god's curt reply was like a whiplash that brought him back to reality. “I didn't know mortals were so comfortable with the gods as to call them by their first name.”

His smile morphed into a grimace, more out of habit than true anger. The fire in Missa's eyes only made him more intriguing, but years of diplomacy kept him from showing it. “And I didn't know minor gods were so rude as to not shake the hand of the emperor of the Arctic Empire.’’

He watched with a mixture of amusement and fascination as Catrina stepped in, apologising for her son. The excuse of the fatal touch almost made him smile. Death by touch… how appropriately dramatic for someone with that face.

‘It's okay,’ he said, letting the displeasure in his voice mask his growing interest. ‘I suppose we must forgive the young god's inexperience.’

The provocation worked better than he expected. The boy bristled like an offended jaguar, and Phil had to hold back a real smile when he held out his bare hand in defiance. The markings on his face seemed to darken with his anger, making him look even more exotic and dangerous.

“Nice try, darling,” he replied sweetly, savouring the way the nickname made those purple eyes sparkle with indignation. “But you won't be able to get rid of me that easily.”

When they finally sat down to sign the contract, Phil kept his eyes fixed on Missa, studying every little gesture. The way his fingers held the pen, the slight frown on his brow, the way the candlelight played with the marks on his face. This minor god clearly thought he could intimidate him, and Phil found his naivety adorable.

The news that they would have to live together took them both by surprise. Phil looked at Techno, recognising the malice behind his apparent innocence. His old friend had probably noticed something in his gaze that he himself didn't want to admit.

As he looked at his signature next to Missa's on the parchment, Phil allowed himself a small smile. If the son of death thought he would be easy prey, he was in for a surprise. You didn't become Emperor of the Arctic Empire by being weak or submissive. This marriage would be a battle of wills, and while the idea should worry him, it only made him more excited.

After all, what better mate than one who shone with the fierceness of an ancient warrior and the deadly beauty of a jaguar?

Chapter Text

Philza knew his boyfriend was a horrible fighter, Missa was a pacifist not a fighter. Still, he couldn't help but be surprised when his boyfriend came screaming into ‘Casa bonita’ with a bunch of mobs following close behind him and his only weapon being a stick he surely found lying around.

‘PHIL!’ Missa's cry, who sounded utterly desperate, echoed across the island, ‘PHIL, MY LOVE, MY LIFE, HELP!’

Philza looked up from where he was helping Tallulah plant a couple of flowers, to see her boyfriend running like hell, with zombies, skeletons and creepers hot on his heels. The stick was nothing more than a prop, because his boyfriend was simply waving it like a fly trap around his head. 

‘DEAR PLEASE!’ Missa shouted, stumbling up the steps to the entrance, barely managing to dodge a couple of arrows, ’I'M TOO CUTE TO DIE!’

‘It's literally death,’ she chuckled to Tallulah, grabbing her sword and shield to save her boyfriend, after all, what kind of knight would he be if he didn't save his damsel in distress. 

‘It's literally death,’ repeated Chayanne, who had just arrived with a basket full of apples, only to see his dad Missa running in circles around Tallulah's garden, waving the stick as if shooing away flies.

‘PHILZA!’ Missa shrieked as a creeper got too close for her liking. ‘MY HEAVEN, MY KING, MY EVERYTHING, HURRY UP!’

Phil couldn't help but laugh as he ran to the rescue. It was funny how someone who could make the bravest warrior tremble with just his presence could be so dramatic over a couple of mobs. Tallulah watched from a safe distance, clapping her hands in excitement every time her dad Phil took down a creature.

‘MY HERO!’ Missa exclaimed, throwing herself dramatically into Phil's arms once the last zombie fell. ‘My brave knight, my prince charming, my-’

‘Papa Missa,’ interrupted Chayanne, “you literally could have wiped them out just by thinking about it.”

‘Ah, but then your father couldn't show off,’ Missa replied with a wink, still hanging onto Phil's neck. ’Besides, have you seen how handsome he looks when he fights?’

Chapter Text

When you work for death you don't have many colleagues, in fact you don't have colleagues at all. Missa was used to travelling between dimensions, it was a dark and lonely place, the only light coming from the souls and the light from the portals. 

So you can understand the reaper's surprise when a man with wings followed by a flock of crows crossed one of the portals. The man was blond, with cold blue eyes wrapped in a green yakuta and a green bucket hat with white stripes. 

Missa froze at the end of the corridor, watching curiously as this man, this mortal looked around, this was strange, very strange. He was a stranger in the world of the non-living. 

Philza froze, he had never seen such a beautiful being, his black hair was dark, it almost looked like a void, as if it was the blackest black created by man. His eyes were purple, but they seemed to contain galaxies, they were so captivating that Phil could swear they moved like a portable galaxy. The man was ethereal and beautiful. 

‘Who are you?’ Death said, pointing his scythe at the man, ‘What are you doing here, mortal?’ 

Philza lowered the scythe with his fingertips, ‘I am Philza, Philza Minecraft, the Angel of Death.’ 

Missa was very surprised, she didn't know her boss had found an angel, but he wasn't surprised she hadn't mentioned it, they were both a bit scatterbrained and their conversations didn't always make sense. 

‘Ah, very well,’ Missa said trying to think what to do with the immortal in her realm, ’The lady sent you?’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘How nice…’ 

They were both silent, both standing in the dark not quite sure what to do, until a crow broke through the silence. 

‘Missa!’ The voice of the goddess came from the crow, ‘ I forgot to tell you, I need you to train Phil to help you in your work in the dimensions I live in, I want to take some of the workload off of you. Thank you, I love you both, bye — bye.’ 

 They both looked at each other, trying not to laugh at the goddess's carelessness, in the end succumbing to laughter. 

Missa gave a small mouse to the crow that had delivered the message, as a silent ‘thank you’ to the corvid. And then he motioned for Phil to follow him. 

‘Well,’ said death reaching for his next soul, ’if you're going to work with me let's start with the basics, first we'll go to a multiplayer world to take a soul, then I'll teach you how to return it to its body if the server allows it, if not let's transfer it to the soul bank, got it?’ 

Philza nodded, mentally taking note of everything, though he was still processing that he would be working side by side with someone as peculiar as Missa. He had imagined the realm of death as a place full of solemn secrets and prohibitions, but it seemed that, at least with Missa, everything was much more… every day. And that made it all the more intriguing.

‘So… a soul bank,’ Philza murmured, smirking. ‘Sounds like something pretty serious.’

Missa looked at him with a mixture of amusement and some pride. ‘It's an efficient system. We have souls from all dimensions, and when one needs to return, it's searched the bank and given access back.’ He paused, shooting her a quick glance. ‘Don't think you can touch it yet. That takes a lot of practice.’

‘Got it, boss,’ Philza replied with a playful grin, following him into the shadows.

Missa led him through a vast dark space, the floor beneath his feet looked like polished ebony, and occasionally, small lights-perhaps souls-crossed the space, twinkling like shooting stars. Philza felt strangely comfortable, as if this alien and sinister world was no longer so intimidating now that he had Missa as his guide.

‘First, let's practice on a simple world,’ Missa explained as they approached a portal that glowed with a silvery hue. ‘It's a peaceful server, but there are still accidents. So, every now and then, we pick up some clueless soul.’

Philza nodded. ‘Sounds perfect. And you… Have you always done this alone?’

The question made Missa look at him with a softer expression. ‘Yes, for the most part. Sometimes the goddess comes along and helps, but… it's a lonely job. I guess I'm used to not having colleagues.’ He shrugged, as if that was simply part of his existence.

Philza nodded silently, feeling an unexpected empathy for Missa's loneliness. ‘Well,’ he said, smiling as she prepared to step through the portal, ’I guess you have a colleague now.’

The two shared a knowing smile before darkness enveloped them and their first training in the strange and mysterious world of mortals and souls began.