#more to the point who wouldn’t have seen someone now that angies part of the group

[mintmentos]

In part i, french saw Homer in the mirror. In part ii, Buck saw rachel. If we had got all of the parts, who else would they have seen?

[running-with-kn1ves]

I can ask for a male version of Donna Beneviento, of course being yandere...

i really picked the worst time to start writing again since tests are coming up... but seriously, my RE8 knowledge is awful so if I wrote something ooc or non-canon, lemme know! I genderbent all the mofos again because it just makes more sense that way:

TW: Kidnapping, hallucinations, yandere themes/mentions, jealousy, protectiveness, dark content

Don: Donna Beneviento

Angie: Angus

Alec: Alcina Dimitrescu

Karla: Karl Heisenburg

Moreau: Moreau (used last name so does it matter?

Of course, we all know Don as pretty much the opposite of Alec. He’s an agoraphobe, dislikes being the center of attention, and prefers the company of his dolls rather than other people. He doesn’t use his body to his advantage like Alec, or intimidates with powerful weapons like Karla. No, instead he plays from behind the scenes. It’s unlikely that he’ll try to woo his darling with simple things like displays of power or affection.

Is not big on affection. At least, at first. The man can hardly stand being touched or seen by his fellow lords, so it's no surprise that it takes him a while to come out of his shell.

Once you’re nice to this man, it's all over, you’re fate has been decided. Like Moreau, Don’s likely more drawn to a kind and courageous darling. Someone who’s willing to make the first move in befriending him, and wants to spend time with him. Even if he was interested in them first, he wouldn’t make a blatant move.

This man is shy. Utterly shy. He refuses to show his face instead using dolls to interact with his darling. It’s so much easier to make them laugh that way, to feel them caress the doll and have the sensation run up into his bones. He feels like as they touch the doll, a part of him is being touched. After all, an extended division of cadou is used to manipulate and control his dolls.

Takes the longest to kidnap his darling out of all of the lords. It’s not that he can’t do it per se, but something inside of him is holding him back. Don is plagued with worry and anxiety, both with the other lords, and the outside world. He’s glad he has this small bubble of time with his darling, even if they somehow get ripped away every now and then by Father Michael.

Considering the Father is watchful of all his children, he’ll notice quickly once the other lords point out how fond Don is of his darling’s presence. Usually, no one can interact with him without Angus spouting nonsense or shooing them away. But this newfound tart, who seems to have captivated him so well, has actually managed to bond with him.

Father Michael will watch carefully, making sure this new ‘toy’ isn’t a distraction. But after promising his loyalty time and time again, Don will be allowed to keep his darling as a ‘small pet’ according to Father.

After receiving Father Michael’s blessing, Don will take that as the perfect time to kidnap his darling. He doesn’t use harsh measures like pain or restraints; inducing hallucinations is easiest, and while he doesn’t wish to harm his darling, he doesn’t desire to let them go either.

It took Father Michael's blessing to kickstart Don’s obsessive behaviors into a physical threat. A few acts of kindness will have the frail man glued to them, albeit from a distance. He’s always watching through that dark veil, and his few feet away doesn’t mean that he isn’t stalking their every move.

Angus comes up periodically to annoy Don’s darling and take away their attention, signaling how desperately Don wishes to be with them; he uses his dolls as a way to be close. And because Angus is the exact opposite of Don, the puppet master finds himself almost envious, ironic as it is.

Gets jealous easily, but turns that jealousy into self-pity. He doesn’t lash out at his darling, rather he sulks, falling into a pit of his own despair at watching them interact with everyone else but him. His heart wouldn’t be able to handle it if he interacted with his darling for too long, but that doesn’t mean he wants to watch them interacting with others. He can be quite selfish and childish, but finds clever ways to get what he wants.

When he kidnaps his darling, the Beneviento will likely do so by using hallucinations. It’s the quickest and most efficient way to keep his darling safe, and willful.

Don will get this idea in his mind that his darling must’ve wanted to come here on their own, considering they so willfully bent to his hallucinations. Most at least fight back, do something to get away, so why didn't they? Why it must be because they love him just as much as he loves them!

Likes to touch and stroke his darling when they’re asleep. It’s more comfortable that way, and makes it so he can do anything without being scolded or fought back against. Especially loves playing with their hair and joints, as odd as it may be. It reminds him of when he’s working with dolls, and that brings great comfort. It makes the situation seem so much more manageable.

Will only remove his veil if his darling persists. If they ask, he’ll be very hesitant and will try to find a way out of it, as he doesn’t want them to fear him or find him repulsive. But if his darling is as kind and angelic as he believes them to be, they’ll accept him without aforethought, and at that, he’d nearly die.

Don didn’t receive much affection in his past life, or current one. So, finding someone who cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead without hesitation, was so spiritual it nearly brought him to death.

After kidnapping his darling, he’ll make sure to tend to their every need, all the while standing by the door and watching them. He’ll be shy, standing there and forcing Angus to bother you. It's been ages since someone came to “visit” his home, and even though he tried to prepare it for you, it didn’t feel good enough.

His darling will likely be relaxed, not seeing Don as a threat. Even though they know what he can do with his dolls, and have heard things from the other Lords, they don’t genuinely believe he’s malicious. Sure, the dolls with blades as arms and the strange, dusty house do seem to be a bit weird, but who wasn’t? It was eclectic.

Likes to follow his darling around. He enjoys watching them do things, listening to them hum, and occasionally stroking them when they dont notice. He would be too insecure at first to have them watch him as he touched them. But as the relationship progresses, he’ll be more inclined to let them hold his hand and kiss him; as long as they didn’t stare for too long.

Isn’t irrationally jealous, nor protective. He rather enjoys stalking and watching from a distance, maybe basking in his darling’s presence, but enjoys watching them interact with others as well. Not when they’re being overly kind though; that should be saved for him. But he enjoys letting the other lords feel the warmth his darling brings, only for Don to show that he’s the one they belong to.

Doesn’t consider himself to “own” his darling-- but does see them as his-- if that makes sense? His darling isn’t an object, they aren’t something that can be tossed around. But, they are something he claims, someone special to him that he regards just as if not more knowledgeable. They belong to him, and he belongs to them.

Will not hesitate to hunt a bitch if they make his darling cry or to hurt them. He isn’t confrontational, but will no doubt send a few “messengers,” allowing his dolls to destroy and maim anyone who dares try to mess with his beloved.

His love language is acts of service and quality time so he loves to be around his darling! But, for receiving love, he greatly enjoys physical affection, along with words of affirmation.

[realcube]

haikyuu!! boys with a s/o that becomes clingy/affectionate while drunk

characters: kyōtani, kenma, iwaizumi, matsukawa and bokuto

thank you anon for this marvellous request mwah

ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!

tw// drinking, suggestive themes, sexual references, swearing

Kentarō Kyōtani

kyōtani was used to having a cool, laid-back s/o who was just as awkward about physical touch as he was 

i mean, that’s kinda a part of the reason he liked you so much - so y’all could get over your awkwardness together

so imagine his surprise when his usually level-headed, calm s/o came stumbling out of the club, a blubbering mess and threw themselves into his arms, wailing something about a maths test

THE AMOUNT OF EMOTIONS THAT FLOODED HIS MIND IN THAT ONE MOMENT OMFG ADFGHJKL

he was like ‘omg why are they touching me? i kinda like it- wait are they crying? tf? i ain’t ever seen them cry before- should i help them? lord everyone is looking at us now. so what the fuck do i do- AYE DON’T TOUCH ME THERE’

so he had no choice but to dip with you flung over his shoulder lol

he took you back to your shared apartment and forced you to drink some water and instead of ordering a take-out, he just gave you his leftover burrito which he took to the club smh

it was probably cold 

but that was the best he could think of at the time bc he simply needed to shut you up with food bc the alcohol in your system was causing you to become especially touchy, hence resulting in kyōtani getting especially aroused

but the last thing he’d do is fuck you while you’re drunk and i firmly believe that despite the fact kyōtani is a bit of a lout - he still has like a basic moral compass

but i mean if you kept being so damn suggestive then it was gonna be a lot harder for him to resist his urges

you were rubbing him up and shit, calling him every pet name in the book so ofc he just stuck a burrito in your mouth and went ‘stfu 😡’

the painful part was that he was silently enjoying it too (┬┬﹏┬┬)

(though, he was red from blushing lol, not anger) 

and he wasn’t used to it either so obviously he was gonna get flustered, i mean, everything was happening all at once

oh and you told him ‘i love you’ and he literally combusted like lord have mercy on this man 

just that morning you were calling him your ‘annoying rat boyfriend’ (jokingly, ofc) and now you love him?-

that wasn’t the first time you told him that you loved him but he was still blushing none the less 

and he stammered out a ‘love you too’ PRAYING that you wouldn’t remember any of this the following day

anyway, he cuddled you to sleep and railed you as soon as you sobered up - the end ❤

Kenma Kozume

pov: you’re kenma happily being a wallflower in the club then your s/o approaches you, demanding for you to fuck them 

- ok, end of POV - 

anyway, your speech was slurred so kenma wasn’t really sure if that was what you were asking him to do but if it was, he would’ve happily obliged if it wasn’t for the fact you were clearly drunk

mans was blushing though

bc y’all hardly ever do it but now - all of a sudden - you were tightly wrapped around him, garbling erotic threats into his ear

kenma was worried at first but you were like..really weak

so it wasn’t hard to get you off his torso, usher you out of the club and grip your hand as he ordered a taxi 

also kenma had read enough wattpad fanfictions to know how to deal with someone while they’re drunk 

but none of those fanfictions ever mentioned a single thing about how to deal with yourself while your partner is drunk

like seriously..he was in pain

both from the throbbing erection he had and the aching embarrassment he felt - both stemming from the fact you tried to give him a lap dance in taxi ✋ please oml

anyway, he took you back to his apartment and insisted that you have a few slices of the left-over pizza in the fridge along with a glass of water

after you changed into your pyjamas, you had clearly sobered up slightly as you could now compose coherent sentences

but that wasn’t any better for him bc now you were draped over him, whimpering into his ear about how much you love him

‘i’m so lucky to have you, kenma. i love you so much. you remind me of my first cat - you’re such a cat- i mean, blessing..you’re such a blessing.’ 

ngl, at that point he would be at a loss for words, just deciding to hug you until you fall asleep

like he finds it so cute that you’re finally opening up to him about how you feel as you’re usually quite composed and restrained 

but also- what does he do now? 

you eventually fell asleep in his arms and the next day, you woke up to kenma having made breakfast and telling you how much he adores you which was..confusing, to say the least

he told you about how you acted when you were drunk and to say you were embarrassed would be an understatement 

also, he’ll tease you about it for the rest of your life ;)

Hajime Iwaizumi

literally all you had to do was send him a text like ‘iwa...,,.,...ily so mycj ❤’’ and he’s already waiting in the line to get into the club lol

he marches in there, finds you, grabs your hand and drags you home 

let’s hope that your friends know what iwaizumi looks like so they don’t have to just watch a random guy haul you out the club-

and tries to act all like angry iwaizumi >:( but when you are trailing behind him, muttering about how amazing he is, he becomes more like angy iwa grrr (* ￣︿￣)

by that, i mean that angry iwaizumi would bring you home and lecture on how irresponsible it is to get so intoxicated 

but angy iwa just takes care of you but with a disapproving scowl 

and angry iwaizumi would make nasty, bitchy remarks about how inappropriate your outfit is 

while angy iwa would be like ‘babe, your outfit is lovely but maybe wear something different next time, idk....’

either way, he takes good care of you 

he makes sure you eat (and he cooks good food btw - he doesn’t make you eat leftovers lmao) 

he lets you change into more comfortable clothes

he ensures that you don’t die in the shower 

and he forces you to go to bed

but all of that is rather difficult when you’re clinging to him like your life depends on it, raving on about how sweet of a boyfriend he is and covering his face sloppy kisses

his original plan was to go train some more in his gym (yes, there is a gym in y’alls house-) but when you were peppering his cheek in kisses, begging him to stay with you for whatever reason, of course he didn’t have the balls to leave

 so he ended up laying like a log in bed as you cuddled up to him like koala, resting your head in his chest and allowing him to run his hand through your hair as you slept

in that moment - as he stared down at your tranquil figure - he realised how grateful he was for moments like these, as he finally got see a side of you that he knew you’d almost never exhibit when you’re sober

like yeah, you often tell him how much you love him but he can always tell that it’s as if you’re setting aside your pride to say such a thing but now, you’re gushing on about it with the most genuine look in your eyes, he can tell that you’re being completely sincere 

and to say that he adores it would be an understatement 

so yeah, you were kind of a pain while drunk but you were also the most adorable thing that iwaizumi had ever laid his eyes on (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

Issei Matsukawa

ok so the only reason matsukawa wasn’t getting drunk with you was bc the first time y’all got drunk together he got fined for public indecency and you got done for public intoxication

so you decided that it was best (for your wallets) if you took turns getting tipsy

emphasis on ‘tipsy’ bc you both went to the bar together (along with a few friends) and you promised matsukawa that you’d only have a few drinks 

so please explain to him why he is now having to carry you bridal style out of the bar because you are too hammered to walk properly 

and he was kinda grumpy bc he had to leave his friends mid-conversation bc not only were you pestering him but also, the erotic things you were whispering in his ear caused him to get a boner

and he was getting weird looks from people as he carried you home but that was the least of his problems tbh- he didn’t even notice lol

the biggest issue on his mind rn was the fact that you made him hard yet you can’t help him bc you’re drunk smh 

like he was tempted at first bc you seemed down to do it but he quickly came back to reality and realised how morally incorrect that’d be 

so he was mumbling curses the whole way home just to tune you out bc if he paid any more attention to the racy promises you were muttering in his ear- he’d explode

he’s alright at taking care of you like he isn’t iwaizumi’s level of caring but he’s a close second, i mean he’s gotten drunk plenty of times so he knows the basics

he was like ‘drink water idk lol ’

anyway, once he handled himself he wasn’t too fazed by your lustful advances

and he was so smug about it too deadass like ‘keep talkin’ me up, (y/n), you ain’t getting shit until you’re sober.’

smh ANYWAY he thinks you’re so charming when you’re like lovey-dovey drunk but SO annoying when you’re horny drunk bc like- he can’t get some (T_T)

Kōtarō Bokuto 

best for last 👌

ok anyway he’s an athlete and he doesn’t need alcohol to have a good time- he’s forever drunk tbh- drunk on life :)

so while you’re getting hammered with your pals, he’s doing stupid shit while sober lol

once you both rendezvous outside the club to head home and you’re absolutely steamin- he’s just like ‘hi, babe! how’s your night been?’

SO OBLIVIOUS OML

anyway, he drives back to y’alls house and since you’re fatigued at first, you spent 90% of the car ride sleeping

but when you get home, more awake, you’re all up on him

but you’re not like sensual drunk- more like..emotional drunk but with love 🥺

so basically you are sobbing into his chest about whatever and bc he is an such empath he will start crying too, or at least get a bit emotional 

you could say something like, ‘omg, bo. i hardly get to see you because you’re at work so often- i wish i could spend more time with you. i miss you so much’  ╯︿╰

and he would deadass reply whole-heartedly while weeping into your shoulder, ‘I’M QUITTING VOLLEYBALL, (Y/N)!!’

(ok, so maybe he was a bit tipsy too- but like..definitely not has drunk as you)

he has no idea where to start when it comes to taking care of you but he tries (´◡` ‘) 

at the very least, he ensures that you don’t having any more alcohol and that you don’t die somehow 

he’s v overprotective though 

you could be getting a fork to eat your instant-noodles with and he’ll be like 

‘apologies ✋ but i cannot allow you to handle such a dangerous weapon while intoxicated. maybe eat with a spoon instead, idk.’ /h

other than that, he just cuddles you to sleep and deals with you in your badly hungover state the next day

[aquamarinescarlet]

The Psychology of Us

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.5k

Warnings: mentions of smut (nothing explicit)

Summary: It seems like you’ll never get the answers you want, but little did you know…

Author’s note: This is probably my favorite story yet. It got a little steamier than I originally planned, but I think it turned out okay. I hope the explanation makes sense, it’s something I do use in real life so I thought it’d be fun to write about. Anyhow, thank you for everyone who read, and have fun with the last part :D

Taglist: @helloalycia @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @trikruismybitch @b0mbdotc0m @ima-gi--na-tion @cristin-rjd @arealearp @1-800-maximoff @zarriaza329

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

“I know, I know, I’ll be at your place at seven.” You said to Angie as soon as she reached you.

The hallway was packed, yet you were still able to notice her presence.

“About that,” she sounded unsure, “I came to tell you about this small gathering Pietro is doing at his place tonight, and I was wondering if you’d come with me?”

“So I can be a third wheel? No thank you.”

“He will have other friends over too, don’t worry.”

“Then why can’t you go by yourself?”

“Because I don’t know any of them and I don’t want to be there all by myself.” She reasoned.

“Just stick by Pietro and you’ll be fine.”

“Please!” She pleaded, giving you her best puppy eyes.

You weren’t opposed to the idea of going to Pietro’s house, a small gathering would be a nice change of pace from your usual Friday night parties. But your mind was in a different place right now and a party wasn’t exactly on your plans. You couldn’t say no to her though, maybe you could sneak out early, who knows.

“Fine, I’ll go.” You gave in.

She cheered, hugging you eagerly, and walked away before you could change your mind.

It was Friday again and you were still stuck on the girl and her puzzle. You’d seen her seven more times in the past two weeks. Now you had compulsively read eight books in the span of one month. Eight books all due to her, it was more than Diego reads in the same time.

Even your family was starting to question this sudden new hobby. Aalways keeping yourself locked in your room or with your nose deep down into a different book wasn’t normal.

Despite that, you were no closer to solving the mystery that was the girl from the library. She refused to give you her name when you asked her for it. She refused to explain the logic behind her recommendations. She just had fun watching you drown in frustration.

You were close to giving up, to start avoiding her until you forgot completely about the whole situation. But you enjoyed these moments. You were excited at the prospect of seeing her, not that you’d ever admit it out loud.

Of course, all this excitment died down the moment she started to mock you for nothing, with that annoying smirk painting those perfect stupid lips of hers, growing your desire to wipe it off of her.

There was something, though, that caught your attention, something about the books she recommended. You enjoyed them, you savoured every story, every plot, every character. Diego always tried to get you to read some of his favourite books and you gave up after a few pages. But not these ones, you liked them, and you had to figure out what kind of spell she used to make you like them so much.

“I think I’m going insane.” You muttered while staring at the ‘map’ you had created on your bedroom wall.

It contained post-its, notes, the title of all eight books and the answers that earned you each recommendation. A pathetic attempt to find a connection between this whole thing.

“You are getting too worked up on this, I mean, look at your wall,” Diego, who had been hanging out with you this afternoon, gestured towards it, “it looks like something right out of a detective movie.”

“It’s not that bad,” you said exasperatedly, “I just need to figure this out.”

“Okay, two things,” he put up both his index and middle finger, “first: it is that bad, it’s just a bunch of books; and second: why are you so desperate to figure this out?”

“I’m not desperate,” you argued.

“Yes, you are.” You heard him mumble.

“And aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

“Not that curious.”

“I just want to prove her wrong,” you explained.

“Because you care about what she thinks?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“No, I-”

“Look,” he interrupted, “I know you. I’ve known you for a long time. You have never been one to care about what other people think of you. So why her?”

“I-,” you were at a loss for words.

Why did you care? It bothered when she insulted you, even though you knew it wasn’t true, and you’ve never been bothered by such things before. It bothered that she knew nothing about you and still had the nerve to deem herself better than you, even though this was all the more reason to not care about her opinion at all.

Was it really a bother though? Or was that just an excuse? And if it is an excuse, then what were you excusing? Why were you still doing this? You’ve been dragging this out for a month. Why were you so keen on proving her wrong after all this time?

You don’t need to prove to her that you’re smart: you get good grades, you’re the captain of the football team, you even have a scholarship in one of the best colleges in the area. Of course she doesn’t know any of this, but that’s not enough motivation for you to spend a month trying to prove her she’s wrong about you.

For all you know that crazy scheme of hers to recommend books could be fake. She could just recommend books she likes and hide the reasons behind those questions. But then why did you enjoy those stories? And why would she put up a whole facade to recommend some books to a random stranger she met in a library?

“Do you like her?” Diego’s voice brought you out of your own thoughts.

The look you gave him was one of disbelief. You almost wanted to laugh at his words.

“Like her? How can I like someone who pisses me off so much?”

“Then why do you keep going back?”

“Why I- because- I- I’m curious.” You didn’t sound as confident as you wished. It wasn’t a lie. You were curious. But curiosity was not the only reason you kept going back, although you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“I don’t believe you.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know how to answer. Thankfully you didn’t have to when, with a quick glance at the clock, you were able to change the subject.

“We’re late.” You simply stated.

“For what?”

“I told Angie I was going to meet her at her place at seven,” you gestured towards the time, “it’s seven thirty.”

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“C’mon, please,” you pleaded, “it’s going to be a small, like, get together or something, and I know Angie will leave me alone at some point to makeout with her boyfriend.”

“Okay fine,” he gave in and you made a little celebratory dance, dragging him out of the house.

Since this was supposed to be casual and between friends, you didn’t waste any time at Angie’s, where you’d usually spend hours getting dressed and ready.

Pietro’s place wasn’t far, which you were slightly thankful for since Angie wouldn’t stop talking about him the whole ride. He’s such a good kisser. He’s so cute. Did you know he plays soccer? He looks so hot in his uniform… You love your friend, but that’s just too much.

As always you weren’t the first one’s, and by the amount of people it was far from a “small gathering between friends”. The apartment wasn’t small, but sure felt like it with the almost fifty people crammed in there.

You were greeted by Pietro himself, who offered you each a beer before pulling Angie in for a kiss, causing you and Diego to roll your eyes. You gladly took the beer, if you had to endure this, might as well have some alcohol to help.

Two beers later and your mind was no longer fixating on the girl-from-the-library problem. Instead you were having a friendly debate with some of Pietro’s friends about which college was the best, the typical rivalry. Having only Angie to back you up was making the whole thing harder.

“Hey Piet,” a tall blonde boy called out, interrupting the conversation, “is Wanda going to join us?”

“Doubtful, you know how she is…”

“Who’s Wanda?” Angie’s voice was laced with jealousy causing the boy to laugh dramatically, which only seemed to make her madder.

“She’s my sister, don’t worry,” he reassured her. It made sense, he had mentioned he lived with his twin sister.

You watched as he pulled Angie away from the group, probably to makeout, as you had predicted, and you looked at Diego, to stop him from commenting anything, only to find his place empty.

You left the group as well to search for him, and was surprised to find him shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat. You could’ve left them alone? Yes, you could. But did you? Of course not.

“Y’know,” you tapped on his shoulder, earning his attention, “when I bring you to a party so I can have someone when Angie left me, I expect you not to leave me as well.” You teased.

“Shut up.” He tried to sound serious, but the smirk gave it away.

“You owe me one.”

Feeling a sudden need to go to the bathroom, you let them be and went in search of one. You opened a door you thought led to a bathroom, but found yourself in a corridor which had other four doors that probably led to bedrooms, at least one must lead to a bathroom.

“Pietro, I already told you, keep that door closed!” You heard someone scream from one of them.

It wasn’t just anyone though. That was a voice that had been haunting you for a whole month now. Okay, haunting was an exaggeration, but still. You quickly closed the door, muffling the music and chatter.

As you rested your back against the wall, a surge of power took over you. The new information taking over all your thoughts. You had the upper hand now on this little game of hers. It was your turn to play.

Her door was easy to identify, being the only one with light seeping through the cracks, and you made no effort to be quiet or discreet when opening it.

She was sitting in her bed, long red hair loose over her shoulders, a book in hands. Her expression was soft despite the interruption, she hadn’t looked up, so she had no idea it was you who was standing there.

“What do you want Piet?” A mischievous smirk grew on your face.

“Wanda,” you uttered as if trying it on your tongue for the first time, earning the girl’s attention.

The shock that took over her features did wonders to your confidence.

“A beautiful name,” you continued, daring to take a few steps inside her room, “I see you favourite color is red,” you referred to the endless amount of details on her walls, shelves, bedsheets, all a different shade of red.

You walked further into the room, exploring everything in sight. She followed your every move with her eyes, too stunned to say anything. Were you crossing a line? Probably. Should you be invading her personal space like that, without a warning? Probably not. But she has been invading your personal space for weeks, so you couldn’t care less.

“Ah, you play the guitar,” you grazed your fingers over the instrument sitting on the corner of the room, “I didn’t think you had any talents other than insulting me for no reason.”

You were enjoying this too much. Your eyes landed on some pictures and notes clinging to a wall.

“Sokovia,” you said after reading one of the notes, “so you are Sokovian, that’s interesting.” Your gaze fell to her desk, a pile of textbooks stacked there. “Psychology,” you laughed, not because it was funny, but because it was going to piss her off even further, “you are more likely to drive your patients crazy than to actually help them.”

“How…,” you turned towards her, “did you…,”

“Get in here? Learn your name?” You offered some suggestions since she didn’t seem capable of finishing that sentence herself. “Pietro.” You simply stated and watched as her face went from stunned to mad.

“How do you know my brother?”

Was that jealousy you were sensing? Or was she just upset that he had told you stuff about her? You decided to play with it a little bit.

“He is a sweet boy isn’t he? So hot and so nice,” you teased and she advanced towards you, making you a little frightened, but not enough to back down, “it’s hard to believe you two share the same genes.”

Your face was mere inches from hers and you suddenly felt like the air was growing thick, making it hard to breathe. A feeling of warmth taking over your chest and stomach. In spite of all the discomfort, you managed to keep your composure.

“I so want to wipe that pretentious smirk off of your face right now,” she growled. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Why don’t you?” You challenged.

Football had given you fast reflexes (except for that particular event a few weeks ago), you were ready to catch her hand if she tried anything. Instead of her fist or her palm, you were met with her lips attacking yours furiously.

The kiss was needy, hungry, desperate even. Your hands made their way to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. It was a battle, a fight neither of you were willing to lose. Tongues fighting for dominance, teeth biting lips, jaw, neck, hands pulling on skin in such a way it would definitely leave marks.

Clothes fell to the floor as you backed her to her bed, pushing her onto the mattress, this feeling, a necessity for her, on the pit of your stomach growing ever more.

Safe to say your plans of leaving early were postponed. At some point during the night you had managed to find Diego and let him know you wouldn’t be needing a ride back home. Your disheveled state and red marks, which were already showing up on your neck, didn’t go unnoticed by him, but he didn’t have time to comment on it. You mentally dreaded the moment he would start with the questioning.

Some shifting on the bed caught your attention. Slowly opening your eyes, you were able to catch Wanda staring at you with a soft smile. Your back was facing her, so she didn’t know you were awake, but you could see her clearly from her bedroom mirror.

And what a sight it was.

“You’re staring.” You called out, and watched her face turn three shades redder out of embarrassment from being caught.

You turned around so you’re now facing her, although she wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“What’s on your mind?” She kept quiet. “Okay, wanna know what’s on my mind?” She nodded lightly. “Well, I’m thinking that I would have never, not in a million years, pegged you as being shy.” She tried to stifle a laugh while bringing her hand up to playfully hit you on the arm. “That’s more like it,” you teased.

“I’m not shy,” she defended.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

“Because… “ she lost it mid sentence.

“... you’re shy and sweet, just like your brother said,” you recalled from the day you spent together in the arcade.

She hit you, yet again, on the arm, slightly harder this time, but not enough to hurt.

“Tell me this then,” you finally reached the topic that has been bugging you for weeks, “what was all this for? The mystery, the games?”

She fell silent, seemingly in deep thought and you got scared you had killed the moment.

“Okay, so maybe I’m a little shy,” she admitted and you celebrated internally while your face remained unfazed, “and that makes me scared of…”

“Talking to people?” You helped out, but she covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

“Please, don’t laugh at me, I know it’s stupid-”

“It’s not,” you interrupted, uncovering her face, “go on.”

She took a deep breath before continuing.

“I’m scared of talking to people… especially people that I like.” Although it sounded like a confession, you weren’t exactly sure what it was about.

“So you liked me?” You asked in disbelief. “From the beginning?”

Her already red face was growing darker by the second.

“I had seen you before, with Diego, in the library, always complaining, always stating how boring it was,” she shook her hands in the air for the purpose of drama, “and it was annoying, but it was also cute and- and I always wanted to talk to you, but I never found courage to do it.”

To say you were shocked at the new information was an understatement. She liked you all this time? And you just thought she hated your guts for no reason? Wow, that’s precious.

“Okay, so…” you tried to say in the stunned state you found yourself, “how- why- the- why did you do all that then?”

“Because I had like, this sudden flow of confidence, and since you had this cocky personality I thought you would like someone who was the same, so I said what I said, and I did what I did and-”

“I started to hate you.” The way you acted when you first met must’ve hurt her.

“Exactly, and I thought I had screwed up completely, until you showed up again, and my stupid brain associated that to the idea that the way I had acted worked. So I kept it up. A persona, in a sense.”

“What were you planning to do then? Keep that act up forever?” The question made her slightly frustrated.

“I don’t know, I didn’t think that far, I just enjoyed your presence, even though you still seemed to hate my guts.” You laughed and moved closer to her, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I did,” you whispered close to her ear, “I hated your guts, but I also enjoyed it, the games, the mystery, that’s why I kept coming back.”

“So it worked,” she said excitedly.

“It sort of did.” You stared into her green eyes, for a few seconds. “There’s something else in my mind too that I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Ask away.”

“So… about the recommendations-”

“Oh my god,” she didn’t let you finish, “you haven’t figured that out yet?!” She exclaimed in disbelief, when she opened her mouth again you knew what was coming.

“Don’t say it.” You warned.

“You really are slow.” She said it anyways, a mischievous grin painting her lips.

“Damn, I hate you,” you said jokingly, unwrapping yourself from her and making a move to leave the bed.

She stopped you short, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you back, causing you to fall on the bed laughing hysterically.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I won’t say it anymore.”

She let you go and sat up and across from you.

“Good, so are you going to explain it to me or not?” You questioned and she rolled her eyes playfully. “And don’t you dare tell me there is no logic behind it, there has to be one.”

“Yes, there is a logic,” she mocked, “it’s quite simple actually, the ‘color’ is what sets the mood for the book.”

“How so?”

“Uhm, like, we associate colors with stuff, like black is associated with death and evil and white is associated with peace and purity,” you nodded, “it also works for feelings, associating those with colors, so when a person says a color I can pick a book that has elements that are associated with that color, or that causes a feeling that we associate with that color.” She explained.

“That explains the psychology major thing.” She seemed happy you remembered, even though it was mere hours ago.

“Basically,” she agreed, “so, ‘person’ is what defines the relationships that surround the main character, so either romances, friendships, families, strangers, y’know?”

“Yeah okay,” you tried to follow along.

“And ‘place’ is to decide how far from reality the story should be, if the person says a place that’s close to their home, they tend to prefer stuff closer to their comfort zone, so no fantasy or sci-fi, and vice-versa.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” she beamed a smile, “simple isn’t it?”

“Does it always work?”

“No, it’s a really subjective thing, the more I know the person the better, but sometimes it just doesn’t work.” She admitted. “It worked on you like a charm though,” she teased.

“That it did,” you couldn't deny. “Okay, so if I got it right, color sets the mood, right?”

“Right.”

“Then what is red associated with?” You looked around her room, filled with several details in red.

“Anger, love, passion-,” she stopped talking when she met your eyes, a mischievous smirk on your lips.

You slowly rose from your position and crawled forward, never losing her gaze. You quirked an eyebrow suggestively as you got closer. You sat on her lap, faces inches from another.

“Well, I can show you some passion.”

[tu-sugar-mami]

You're a tired traveler. Someone who just quit an awful job and got a ticket to travel different countries in search of happiness. Somehow you got lost in a snowy mountain (you're not really a clever person) and are in desperate need of sleep and warmth.

On the distance you spot a building, kinda victorian style which honestly you love. Your last functioning braincell tells you its a good place to look for help and so you comply.

The building is old, you notice, but you can see light coming from the inside and you knock. Nobody answers but the door opens by itself. 'Nice' you think.

When you enter you call for the owner but no one comes. You look around and find the dining room, where a table is ready with served plates of many different dishes. You hesitate. You're hungry, but your mom taught you that it's rude to grab food from another if it's not offered, and to do so in their own roof, well... You decide not to grab anything.

Trying to be respectful you stop on the living room and refrain from snooping around, waiting instead patiently for the owner to arrive, hoping that you weren't intruding too much.

It's then when you notice something odd. There are parts of dolls hanging from the ceiling here and there. Even some other complete dolls are scattered around the room. You think it's weird, but shrug it off in the end. You had an obsession with round rocks when you were a kid, to the point of filling the shelves on your room with a variety of pretty rocks, so you wouldn't judge the owner for having dolls all over their house.

You wait and wait, until hours pass by and still no one shows up. You're starting to get sleepy, and so you curl on the couch, your body begging you to get some shut eye.

You can feel your consciousness slipping away and even though you fight it soon you fall into a deep slumber.

***

Cold...

It's cold when you wake up. It's dark.

Only the moonlight coming from the outside provides a bit of visibility. The place looks different without the warm light of the candles and the shadows decieve you.

You're still groggy with sleep and don't really think too much about it, but when you look down you see an old, slender doll, ratty but with a beautiful, if a little dirty, white dress. You think it's a pretty doll, despite having a face that would creep many people out. But not you. No, you actually like her. You don't hesitate in picking her up and holding it close to your chest, snuggling her while drifting back to sleep.

The doll feels warm in your arms and you sigh in content before everything goes black again.

You definitely don't notice the illusion breaking, revealing a very flustered Donna Beneviento laying beside you. She tries to wiggle her way out but your hold on her is strong and in your dreaming state you squeeze her softly, closer to you. Donna's heart is racing and her mind is reeling.

What in the world were you doing? How was it that you weren't afraid of Angie when most people screamed in terror at the sight of her? Why were you holding her? And why in hell did she feel so comfortable and safe in your arms?

It wasn't right.

She had tried to play cat and mouse with you, just like with every other unfortunate person that happened to pass by her lair, awful people who always tried to take something of value from her home, people who looked at her dolls with a grossed out expression on their faces, or people who simply wouldn't respect anything. But you... surely there must be something wrong with you.

There must something wrong with her.

Donna is enjoying herself too much in your arms, and she knows she shouldn't. She takes a deep breath but soon realize it's a mistake when she inhales your scent. To her you smell sweet, just like the fruits she likes, though with a tint of something spicy that she cannot place.

It frightens her, that she feels like this with you. She doesn't even know your name, for goodness sake! But... there's something.

It's been around two hours now and Donna doesn't think she'll be able to go through the whole night. She wants you to wake up. She wants to talk to you, get to know you. But at the same time she's pretty comfortable where she is. It's been ages since she was last held like this, with care, because even in your slumber you are so tender, gentle. Your touch on her is caring and you don't notice but unconsciously your thumb is rubbing circles on her back.

Your phone rings and you stir, starting to wake up. Donna is debating if she should conjure another illusion or if she should let you see her, but it's too late and you're face to face.

You're reaction is immediate. You jump away from her with a scream, dropping the phone on the floor.

The candles lit again, seemingly out of nowhere.

Donna won't admit it, but she's hurt by your reaction. She knows she shouldn't. You're nothing to her, she doesn't even know you. You're just another useless bag of flesh and bones and–

"... mean to, I'm sorry..."

Wait, what?

"...and i fell asleep and- and... Oh god, im really sorry i didn't know i was holding you. You must think I'm so rude. I'm sorry for intruding too. I waited for somebody to come but i was tired and i fell asleep, im sorry." You apologize to the woman. She is wearing a veil and you can't see her face, but the way she breaths makes you think she's mad, or at least offended by you. "I could have swore i was holding i doll. Haven't you seen a doll this size? It was a cute doll, but maybe i was dreaming."

Donna doesn't know what to do. Her heart is hammering in her chest and her breathing is ragged. You are so much more cute than she thought...

She let out a relieved sigh, for a moment she thought you were frightened by her, just like the others before you, but you were only startled and surprised to see her laying in your arms. And when you called Angie cute her heart skipped a beat, no one besides her had ever said Angie was cute and she was surprised you thought so. Donna wanted to laugh when you apologized for holding her when it was her who caused all the mess. She found your rambling cute but she wouldn't tell you. She wanted to ask so many questions, but she couldn't. She was so used to speak through Angie that the thought of speaking by herself made her nervous.

Angie is on another room and while Donna could call her she decides she would like to use her own voice this time. There's something about you that screams to her, that pulls her in.

And so she does...

To you her voice is gorgeous, a little raspy, but soft nonetheless.

"Would you like some tea?"

-----

If you love my work, buy me a coffee?

[sunflowerdarlingx]

Fred Weasley - “Fred doesn’t date”

Hi everyone, how are you all? 

Here is another Fred imagine, I planned on writing a smut but I enjoyed the direction this took, please let me know if you would like another part to this! 

I think if I write a second and third part it will lead to a bit of a steamy chapter. 

Female Reader

Warnings: None

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

Fred Weasley wasn’t the kind of guy to catch feelings. He had his fun with girls who were up for it, but after a few fucks he’d cut them off and move on to the next. The cycle had done him good the last two years, and he didn’t intent to break it during his last year. But boy, was he in for a shock.  

Fred was stood on the platform saying goodbye to his mum when something caught his eye, well, someone caught his eye.  She was beautiful, her hair was tied up into a cute messy bun, her glasses stood on the tip of her nose, her small hand moving to push them further up as she smiled at the woman she was with. Her smile was gorgeous, and Fred couldn’t help but smile whilst he looked at her.  

She definitely wasn’t in Rons year, or Ginny's, but she didn’t look younger than them. He moved away from his mum whilst she wrapped her arms around George, standing with Harry, Ron and Hermione he thought he’d ask them if they knew her.  

“Hey Hermione, who’s that girl over there, with the glasses”, Hermione turned her head in your direction, “Oh, that’s Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a year above us, Hufflepuff I believe, why?”.  

“Just wondering”  

“Oooo, Fred’s got a crush” Ron laughed loudly.  

“Fred’s got a crush, Who?” Molly said loudly as she looked around the platform.

Fred groaned before shoving Ron, “No one mum, we better get on the train before it’s too late. Love you mum, c’mon George” he made his way on to the train, checking behind him for Y/N but she was nowhere to be seen.  

The majority of the train ride to Hogwarts was spent catching up with Lee, Angie, Kaitie and Alicia. The time during the ride came where they had to get into their robes, George and Fred went first down towards the changing compartments on the train, they went a bit earlier than normal so not many people were waiting. They were stood outside discussing their first prank of the year when Fred noticed Y/N walking towards him.  

“Yeah mate, I got the map off Harry so we should be....” Fred stopped mid-sentence when he saw Y/N, mesmerised by the way she moved so gracefully down the train.  George looked behind him, following Freds’s eyeline and smirked when he saw her.  

“You’ve not got a chance mate” he laughed and snapped Fred out of his daydream.  

“oh yeah? Whys that?” he said, a bit more aggressive than he should have.  

“Well look at her and then look at you Freddie, that pretty much sums it up” George ruffled his hair.  

“Are you remembering that we are identical twins”  

“Oh, fuck, yeah, so we are” George laughed “point proven even more, because I definitely wouldn’t stand a chance”.  

Fred shook his hand and smacked his shoulder when you got closer. They both turned to look at Y/N as she got closer, “Hi guys” she smiled, raising her hand giving them a soft wave.  

“Hi, you alright?” George asked, returning her smile, “yeah I’m not too bad thanks, yourself?”.  

“I’m good thanks, I’m George Weasley” he held his hand out for her to shake, “I’m Y/n Y/L/N” she peered over George's shoulder towards Fred, “and you are?”  

Fred tried to speak, he really did but he was distracted by her. Her doe eyes staring up at him and her lips were slightly glossy, he wanted to feel those lips against his, her hand was held out to shake his and Fred couldn’t get over how soft they looked.  

“ech hem” George cleared his throat and shoved Fred.  

“What..shit sorry, I’m Fred” he placed his hand in hers, they were even softer than he imagined. The door to the changing compartment opened and Cedric Diggory walked out.  

He nodded at the two boys before spotting Y/N and wrapping his arms around her, “alright trouble, how was your summer?”.  

George slipped into the changing room and Fred stood awkwardly beside them, “it was good thanks Cedric, how was yours?”, “Eh yeah it was alright thanks babe, spent a couple weeks in Italy” he smiled down at her fixing his tie.  

Fred couldn’t help but listen in on their conversation, the way Cedric called her babe made him a bit uncomfortable. How had he never noticed her before today? Surely, they’ve seen each other around schools or at parties?

“I’m jealous, I’d love to go to Italy, I’ve seen pictures, it really looks beautiful” Fred loved listening to the way she spoke, her voice like silk.  

“You should definitely go if you get the opportunity, I’ll maybe take you one day if you want” he winked at her and Y/N laughed lightly “I'll hold you to that Diggory”.  

“You better, I better get back to the boys but find me during the feast yeah?” he said and walked off down the train when he got a nod from her.

Y/N turned her attention back to Fred, “so how’re you Fred?” she turned her body and tilted her head up to look up at him.  

Fred was shocked that she was starting up a conversation with him “I’m good thanks yeah” his voice came out a bit squeaky to start with, he cleared his throat, blushing, internally smacking himself “how about yourself?”.  

Y/N grinned up at him and his blushing state “I’m good thank you, excited to get back to school, I’ve kind of missed it”.  

“I know what you mean, trust me when you live in a house with a family as big as mine, the space alone at Hogwarts is enough to have you craving being back” he laughed.  

“I’ve heard there is a lot of you Weasleys, how many of yous are there?” she fiddled with clothes in her hand.  

“Well, there’s mum and dad, and then my older brothers Bill, Charlie and Percy, then myself and George and then Ron and Ginny” Freds face lit up slightly whilst he talked about his family, Y/N couldn’t help but smile up at him when she noticed.  

“I’ve met Ginny before, she’s lovely” Y/N said, “actually I think I’ve met your brother Charlie before, does he work in Romania?” she questioned, and Fred raised his eyebrows, curious as to how she knew Charlie.  

Just as Fred was about to answer George came out of the compartment, “all yours brother”, “eh yeah mate, I’ll meet you back at the compartment.”

George raised his eyebrow, the stare he got back from Fred was a clear ‘fuck off’, he smirked and said goodbye to Y/N before heading back down the train.  

Fred turned back to Y/N “yeah Charlie does work in Romania, how’d you know that?”.  

“My brother Thomas works there too, you’ve maybe met him, they’ve been good friends since school”. Fred did indeed know Thomas; he’d met him a few times actually.  

“No way? Yeah, I know Thomas, he’s a good lad” Fred said and noticed a group of first years coming towards the compartment. “You’d better go get changed, first years are coming down”. It was well known that groups of first years often stopped older students who were at the compartments and bombarded them with eager questions about Hogwarts.

Y/N turned behind her and groaned, “it’s okay, you go first, you were here before me”.  

“Trust me, you go first, more likely to ask you questions with you looking all cute and innocent than are with big old me” he laughed not realising that he had called her cute.  

Y/N blushed slightly before nodding and making her way into the compartment. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she got changed, of course she knew who Fred and George were, they were the famous Hogwarts pranksters. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have a crush on him, she’d fancied him since her third year and the fact he just called her cute had her blushing.  

She pulled her knee-high socks over her legs, she looked at herself in the mirror and she was quite excited for Fred to see her when she walked out, not that she thought he’d have any interest in her, she just thought she looked hot.  

She had on her usual white shirt with the top three buttons undone, her black skirt which was a bit shorter than last year, her yellow and black tie was wrapped loosely round her neck, her socks stopped just above her knee and she had simple black pumps on.  

As she opened the compartment door, Fred couldn’t help but look her up and down, not only did she look beautiful, but she also looked so fucking sexy. Her hair was a bit messier than it was on the platform but he kinda liked it even more and her glassed were resting on top of her head. She pulled them down onto her nose and looked up to Fred. He bit his lip to stop himself from smirking down at her. Y/N winked at him, mouthing a thank you before making her way back to her compartment.  

-

During the first two weeks Fred had been noticing Y/N all over school, he may or may not have been using the map to see where she was. He’d often see her out by the lake herself or in the library and would ‘just so happen’ to find himself in those places when she was there. Fred wasn’t a stalker, he wasn’t even close to it, he just really enjoyed her company and as time went on, he learned that she enjoyed his company to.  

They got a lot closer and soon they were even arranging to meet, Fred often keeping her company whilst she studied or them spending time out in the gardens having little picnics or watching the stars at night.  

Now I know what you’re thinking, they sound like dates, but they were not dates. Fred didn’t date.

Fred had noticed that he was starting to care about Y/N, quite a bit actually, but he didn’t act on it. He figured it was just because he hadn’t gotten laid in a while, that was mainly due to the fact that all his attention was on Y/N.  

In all honesty Fred was starting to fancy her, he loved spending time together, he loved their deep chats and flirty banter, he loved the way her nose scrunched up when she laughed and the little snorts she would make when she found one of his jokes particularly funny. He also found himself getting a bit jealous, watching her throughout meals laughing with the idiots in Hufflepuff or when she had to cancel her plans because one of the prefect boys needed a partner for their patrols.  

-

On this particular day, Fred was stood waiting for Y/N to meet him, they had planned to go for a swim down at the lake with George and Lee. He heard footsteps and looked up, only to see Y/N walking down the steps with Cedric.  

She was in a little sun dress which highlighted all the beautiful curves of her body. Her hair was in two braids and her regular glasses had been swapped for a pair of sunglasses on top of her head.

She jumped from the last step and wrapped her arms around Fred, he gripped her hips tightly “Hiya Freddie, ready for a swim?” her cheerful voice mumbled into his neck.  

He put her down on the floor and grinned down at her “of course I am.”, he looked over at Cedric “you alright mate?”.  

Cedric frowned slightly “yeah thanks, yourself? Didn’t realise you were coming swimming”.  

Fred couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, “yeah I’m good, better now this ones finally ready for a swim”, he winked at Y/N before wrapping his arm around her shoulder, “better get to the lake before George and Lee get bored of waiting”.  

Freds smirk quickly left his face while he watched Y/N and Cedric in the water, she had her arms wrapped around him, trying to push him under the water but Cedric just laughed as he dunked them both under the water.  

“Stop being a moody git and ask her out” George splashed Fred, “sitting there with a face like a slapped arse isn’t doing anyone any good, and if I'm honest, Lee and I are getting fed up with that frown on your face. Plus, you can’t keep leading her on forever”

Fred wiped the water out of his eyes before splashing George back, “I don’t ask girls out” he stated bluntly “that’s how things get complicated and what do you mean leading her on?”  

“You know exactly what I mean” George raised his voice slightly before lowering it again “You’ve heard the rumours going round about how the ‘famous prankster’ Fred Weasley is actually settling down, all these little dates you have just lead her on”.

“We don’t go on dates, we hang out”  

“ha sure, nights under the stars and romantic walks into Hogsmeade aren't dates. You need to decide what you want with her, if you don’t want anything serious then you need to leave her alone to flirt with Cedric”, George swam away over to Lee and wrapped his arms around him to get a piggyback.  

Fred moved to sit on the grass beside the lake, did he want something more than a friendship with Y/N? It was clear they fancied each other, was he really leading her on?  

He made his way back up to the castle, leaving them at the lake, he needed some time to decide what he wanted.  

Y/N was splashing around the lake with the boys when she noticed Fred was missing, “Hey George, where's Fred gone?” he shrugged his shoulders and started splashing Lee again.  

Cedric pulled Y/N closer to him by her waist “I wouldn't worry Y/N, he’s a big boy” Y/N frowned at Cedric before giggling when he tickled her sides.  

“Come with me to look for him?” she asked and started walking back towards the grass, Cedric groaned but followed anyway.  

“Why don’t we go grab a snack from the kitchen and get changed and then you can find him at dinner? I wanted some time alone with you today..if im being honest”  

“Fineeeeee” she dragged out her words as she wrapped her towel around her.  

-

Fred was laid in his bed, thinking about everything that had happened over the last few weeks, George was right, it wasn’t fair to lead her on, but Fred knew for sure that he wanted her to be his – the thought of her being with someone else made him sick to his stomach.  

He thought it over and decided that the only difference would be the labels and he kind of hoped that if lads knew she was his then they’d stop flirting with her. They already went on dates and the thought of finally getting to kiss her and hold her just made the idea even more appealing.  

He stood up off his bed deciding to make his way back to the lake. When he reached the corridor by the kitchen, he turned the corner and he saw Y/N against the wall with Cedric in front of her. His elbow resting on the wall above her head as his other hand pushes some of her baby hairs out of her face. Her little giggle echoed through the hall and Freds heart broke at the sight, crumbling when Cedric placed a soft and delicate kiss to her cheek.  

Part Two

[mygodyouredivine]

The Hell in Your Eyes - 1

Summary: Loki doesn't meet her until two weeks after his initial imprisonment, but he knows he hates her. He has to hate her. Because the way she talks to him and helps him and saves him meals can't mean anything. She is too soft to deal with Loki, who is hardened with pain, pain, and more pain. And Loki hates soft things. 

Have you ever seen the hell in someone’s eyes and loved it anyway?

Characters: Loki Laufeyson/(f)Reader

Warnings: mild mentions of violence, mild blood

Word Count: 3122

Next Chapter 

Loki doesn’t meet her until two weeks after moving into his new prison.

In fact, he’s slightly confused as to how this mortal has escaped his notice — not that she is even remotely worthy of his scrutiny, but he distinctly remembered conducting a mental count of the tower’s inhabitants, one she is obviously missing from. Loki was quite confident he knew of every single person’s existence within his prison walls, yet here he is, staring at a mortal whom he’s never laid eyes upon, and it unnerves him. 

Loki is not scared of anything, but he prefers to be aware of his enemies. 

His gaze is wary as he stares down the unfamiliar face, memorizing the way her hair frames her face, the way her eyebrows are slightly raised, and her eyes, which are meeting his own with a mix of surprise, defiance, and a tint of fear. He grins. 

Ah, never quite without the fear.

But then her attention moves past him and focuses on his brother — typical — and Loki’s grin falls. Thor is standing besides Loki, just recently interrupted from his enthusiastic explanation of what a ‘smoothie’ is. He now sports a ridiculously wide grin and surges forward towards the unknown woman. His shoulder rams into Loki’s, pushing him out of the way in his haste to greet her. 

Loki decides he despises her. 

“Angel!” comes Thor’s booming shout, his voice altogether too happy, too enthusiastic, too loud . He sweeps the woman — Angel — into a warm embrace. Loki snorts derisively, noting the girl’s chipped nails, painted a crude shade of black, the oversized, undignified shirt she sports, and the atrocious mop of hair sitting atop her head. He is utterly unimpressed. 

“Ow Thor, you’re crushing my ribs.” 

Her voice is bothersome, altogether too scratchy and too rough and too hoarse. She sounds like she just woke up. Every word she says grates upon his nerves, fueling his dislike. Loki wishes she would drink some water, if only to soothe his growing irritation. 

His brother releases her, and she takes a couple of steps back, smoothing down her hair. Her fingers are entangled in the ends, and she pulls on them with the impatience of a child. Still grinning at Thor, she continues. 

“What are you doing up so early?” she inquires. “I know for a fact you don’t have to train in the mornings to maintain your stupid godly body.” 

As Thor’s booming laughter once again echoes throughout the room, Loki cannot help but roll his eyes. Pathetic . Just another airheaded girl infatuated with his oh-so-righteous golden brother. At this point, Loki doesn’t even feel disappointment. This is to be expected, after all. Thor is the one who is a hero. Thor is part of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Thor helped save humanity — against Loki no less. Thor never tried to subjugate New York, nevermind that Loki’s mind hadn’t been his own, that his body was hastily reconstructed, that —

“Good morning to you too my lady! I was just here with Loki, teaching him how to make smoothies. With — what do you call this? Ah, a blendifier.” 

Thor’s voice is softer than Loki is used to, and in this moment he decides that he hates his brother’s voice much more than he hates this useless mortal’s. He drowns out the rest of their conversation, idly wondering if he can slip away while his brother is distracted. Perhaps he could get back to his reading; Midgard’s literature is undoubtedly inferior to Asgard’s but also infinitely more engaging than concocting whatever a ‘smoothie’ is supposed to be. 

His train of thought is interrupted by Thor calling out his name. 

“Oh, but you haven’t met!” Thor turns towards Loki — seemingly just remembering that Loki is in the room — and motions towards the girl. 

“Loki, this is [Y/n], and my lady, this is Loki, my brother, the one I’ve told you about.”

Loki wonders what Thor has told her about him. Surely, if his previous activities on Midgard haven't spoken clearly enough, whatever narration of their childhood tainted with Thor’s tongue should have sufficiently warned her of himself. 

But the mortal woman surprises him. She sticks out her hand and offers him a handshake. Hesitantly, he takes her hand and shakes once, firmly, then quickly releases her. Her hands are warm and soft — much unlike his. He wonders if they too can become as calloused as his own. Perhaps if she was forced to endure what he had. He doubts she has ever even felt a flicker of pain. No, pain hardens. She cannot have felt pain because pain is relentless and beautiful and pain is cruel and glorious and because with pain either you embrace it or you break and she is too soft to have felt pain. 

Loki doesn’t like soft things. 

“Hey Loki. I’m [Y/n] but everyone just calls me Angel. Or Angie if you prefer. It’s nice to finally meet you. ” Her voice doesn’t waver, but Loki can detect the underlying unease present. He doesn't, however, detect a lie. How interesting. 

“Pleasure,” he deadpans, lip curing into a sneer. Thor frowns, his brother quickly moving between them, shielding her from Loki. Loki scoffs. As if he could do anything to her. Loki could not so much as breathe without permission. Here, Loki was at the complete mercy of his brother, the pitiful Avengers, and now this drowsy looking, disheveled Midgardian. 

Loki almost laughs. Oh how far he’s fallen. 

Thankfully, his interaction with the girl — Angel — seems to be over. She turns away from him, once again addressing his brother. 

“Just remember when using the blender — not blendifier — to be careful. Make sure your hand is nowhere near the blades when you turn it on, and clean it with a sponge. Or just rinse it out and put it in the dishwasher. You know how the dishwasher works, yeah?” Her eyes are filled with sincerity and adoration and Loki hates it. For a brief moment, he entertains the thought of shoving Thor’s head into the blender. He doubts it would fit. 

His brother beams at her. “Do not worry my lady. I know how to use the blendifier. Even if the blades were to attack my fingers, I assure you my Asgardian strength would protect me.” Loki is fairly sure the blades could take out a sizable chunk of Thor’s hands. The temptation to test out his theory rises again, and he stomps it down. 

Thor is just as boastful as ever, never ignoring a chance to show off in front of others. Thor hasn’t changed a bit. Thor is still the completed, whole reflection of himself while Loki is just broken fragments. It isn’t fair. Oh but when has life — the cursed thing — ever been fair to Loki? His irritation grows and his hands clench, his fingernails digging into his palms. Pain. Pain is comforting to Loki. Loki knows pain and he likes it.

“Sure, sure. I know your stupid godly genes will protect you or whatever, but just be careful. I’m pretty sure you still bleed, and blood smoothies really aren’t all that appetizing.” She looks at Loki then, her eyes glinting mischievously, and winks. “Unless, of course, you volunteer to clean up as well, because I sure as hell know we don’t want to scrub your bloodstains off these counters.”

Loki isn’t quite sure how to react, but his fists loosen. 

She’s soft and weak and mortal but she’s also snarky and sarcastic. And Angel is the first person to use ‘we’ and include Loki in a long time. He decides he hates it. He doesn’t wish to be included with these Midgardians under any context. He doesn’t need their pity, their false sympathy. In fact, Loki prefers the venomous looks of the other Avengers much more than whatever trick this woman is spinning. His fingernails once again dig into his palms and he feels the familiar trickle of blood sprouting from his palms. 

Angel looks away and turns back to Thor, who offers her a bit of the ‘smoothie’ he has been attempting to make for the past hour. She giggles, a sickly sweet sound that makes Loki’s stomach churn, and pats Thor’s arm.

The blood running from Loki’s fingers drips onto Stark’s expensive, pristine floor. 

“Thor, the last time you made smoothies they worked more as laxatives. I’ll pass.” She grins again, and Loki wants nothing more than to wipe that expression off her face. He wonders how she’ll look without the seemingly ever present light on her face. Perhaps her eyes will resemble the dull marbles that stare at Loki every time he looks into a mirror. Her gaze falls upon Loki again, but she refrains from addressing him. 

With that, Angel turns and saunters away, her sock covered feet softly padding across the floor. Her socks are mismatched and worn and frayed at the edges. 

______________________________

The woman is right. Thor’s smoothie is nothing short of poison and Loki tells him as much. 

“This is absolutely atrocious.”

Thor’s eyebrows connect in a comical frown as he takes a sip. His lips pucker and he forces himself to swallow. “I completely disagree, brother! This is just what the Midgardians drink. It’s a part of their culture, something you should get to know well.”

Thor hasn’t changed a bit. He is as stubborn as he ever was. Thor would rather drink the entirety of the brown mush he has made than admit to Loki he was wrong. He wonders how Thor would react to Angel’s criticism. 

Thor pats Loki on the back as he motions towards the mess he has made out of the kitchen. Loki knows Thor cannot feel the scar tissue hidden underneath Loki’s clothes, the raised edges and criss-crossed lines. He knows this because he hides it. He doesn’t need anyone, much less Thor, to know of the scars his body carries, and he doubts his brother would care. But Loki wishes Thor wouldn’t use so much force. He disguises a wince under a scowl and steps away. 

“Brother, would you mind tidying up? I have a training appointment with the Captain, and I would rather not be late.”

Loki doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t have to. Thor is already walking away from Loki, his steps heavy and confident, so unlike Angel’s. Thor is leaving Loki to clean up his mess, another mess Loki had no part in making, and Loki is once again responsible. For he knows, he doesn’t have a choice. If any of the tower’s inhabitants were to come down and see Loki in the midst of this disaster, he knows they will blame him. Not that it particularly makes a difference, but Loki would prefer less hostility than needed.

With a wave of his hand, his seidr sweeps across the room, erasing any evidence of Thor’s ill-fated attempt at creating something. Loki does a once-over of the room, ensuring everything is returned to its original position, and as he moves to return to his quarters, a flash of red catches his eye. 

Ah. His blood on the floor. The blood of a god — frost giant — cannot be as easily removed as the stains left behind in the blender. 

Looking around, Loki grasps a sponge and, after again ensuring no one can see him, bends down to begin scrubbing his own blood off the floor. Loki doesn’t like blood. It’s too red and too warm and he knows its rusted smell will follow him throughout the day. He especially despises his own blood. It stains.

In the midst of his undignified scrubbing, Loki detects footsteps. He moves to stand up — quickly, but he is too late. Angel walks back into the kitchen, this time with her hair slightly more tamed and in a ponytail. She looks to have changed from her sleepwear to loungewear, sporting the ridiculously comfortable pants Loki has learned are called sweatpants and a shorter, cropped top. Her socks are still mismatched. 

She looks at Loki, and with a start he realizes he is still on the ground. Loki Laufeyson is on his knees before a mortal, in the midst of wiping away his own blood from the floor. 

Damn.

His throat tightens as he feels his anger rising, pulsating throughout his entire body. He scorches her with a glare, daring her to comment on his situation. He swears, Norns be damned, he will kill her. Regardless of the consequences, he will kill her if she says anything. Loki doesn’t care if he is condemned to spend another century on Midgard as penance, he will silence her. He opens his mouth, about to make his threat clear, but she speaks first. 

“Well. I told Thor he would bleed. Did the big idiot leave you to clean up his mess?” She tilts her head at Loki, and he hates the way she is still looking down at him, hates the way one of her hands are on her hips, hates the way he can see a sliver of skin peeking out from between her clothes.  “I specifically told him we wouldn’t clean up his blood.”

Loki bites down his retort. Angel doesn’t sound mocking, but rather sympathetic. He doesn’t need sympathy from a mortal. He finally rises and approaches her, looming over her smaller frame. “Get out,” he says, voice halfway between a whisper and a rasp. “There is no ‘we’ with you and I, and you will do well to remember that.” 

Angel holds his glare for a second, but then turns away, and Loki waits for her to flee. Instead, she grabs the soap sitting next to the sink and holds it out to Loki. “Alright then, Your Highness. Have fun.”

Loki’s hand reaches towards the soap and his fingers brush hers. Her fingers are soft, just like her hands, and Loki wonders if her soul is as fragile as her physical body. Loki hates soft things. 

With that, Angel leaves the kitchen a second time, and Loki is left to wipe his own blood off the floor, alone. 

______________________________

He can’t get her out of his head. 

The woman who was so damnably soft occupies Loki’s thoughts and he hates it. He hates how he can perfectly recall the color of her eyes, her scent, the way her skin felt against his own. He hates how she saw him kneeling on the floor. 

Loki is sitting on his bed, just after rejecting Thor’s persistent invitations to go down to dinner. Thor insists it’s ‘bonding time,’ that ‘all are welcome,’ and ‘everyone would love to see him there!’ Loki isn’t an idiot. He knows what the others say about him. They don’t realize that Loki can hear their hostile whispers from across the room — and even if they did, Loki doubts they would stop. 

His mind wanders back to the girl. Would she join in on their gossip? Do they trust her? Who is she? 

Thor had seemed familiar and friendly with Angel, but Loki knew nothing of her. He could detect no magical presence surrounding her, and she did not look as toned or threatening as the Widow. From all he could gather, she had no place here. Yet, she was obviously a welcome occupant of the tower. Loki was intrigued, and he felt a begrudging curiosity surrounding her grow. 

What was her history? Why wasn’t she here when he arrived? 

Loki is distracted from his thoughts by his stomach, which alerts him of its discomfort. Loki has not eaten anything since the half sip of Thor’s smoothie, and hunger has begun to fester within himself. But Loki cannot get food yet. No, he must wait until dinner is over until he can go downstairs and snoop through the refrigerator for anything suitable. He has learned that this made everyone more comfortable. The Avengers could pretend he did not live with them, and Loki could avoid the hateful and tense environment that accompanied him wherever he went. Really, the hunger he feels is insignificant. He has dealt with much more, and he knows from experience he can go many moons without sustenance.  

It’s past midnight when Loki finally ventures downstairs. He enters the kitchen without a sound and doesn’t bother turning on the lights. Loki had no need for light — he much preferred the darkness anyway. He walks towards the refrigerator, hoping that perhaps he could find some of the takeout left over from last week’s movie night. Ah, but Stark had thrown out the takeout yesterday. Loki just hoped that he could find something fresh then — but not too fresh, in case the others still desired it. 

But as Loki opens the refrigerator door, he is surprised. On the top shelf, placed on the left edge, is a plate covered carefully with plastic wrap, a bright green sticky note plastered on top. He isn’t unfamiliar with the practice: reserving leftover dishes as one’s own. He found it childish, really, but he never took anything that was claimed — no unnecessary hostility was needed, and he was familiar with the screaming matches that often took place when claimed items disappeared. What he is unfamiliar with is the name on the sticky note. 

Loki , it says, with a crudely drawn illustration of what is unmistakably his horns, followed by a smiley face. 

Loki looks around, waiting for whoever had placed this cruel joke to pop out of the darkness and laugh at him, but there is no movement. Eyes narrowed, he scrutinizes the note. It’s not a script he recognizes, and he deduces it must belong to the woman — to Angel. 

Carefully, he takes the plate and uncovers it, the smell of the food wafting through the air. Loki recognizes the scent as the dish the Captain made earlier that day. His mouth waters, unwillingly, and Loki cannot recall the last time he consumed food so freshly prepared. His fingers toy with the edges of the plate, debating whether or not to permit himself this pleasure. 

He decides that yes, since the woman had clearly set aside food for him, it would be an insult to ignore it. Not that Loki particularly minded insulting his roommates, but again — the less hostility, the better. And if it ends up as part of an elaborate trap, well then Loki can say that he expected it. 

He takes the food back to his quarters, and Loki truly enjoys a meal for the first time since he was still a Prince of Asgard. 

He hates that he enjoys it.

He hates soft things.

And most of all, he hates Angel.

______________________________

Just because you are soft doesn't mean you are not a force. Honey and wildfire are both the color gold. 

 - Victoria Erickson

______________________________

Next Chapter

[nick-thecreator]

Just had an idea for a story... It’s called “Aftermath Revival: Human AU” Part 1

(I’ll add more to this later, I wrote this off of one idea, and a bit quick, so I might edit it to make it better/more reasonable. Also, I should have asks open if anyone has any questions [Cause I know there will be...])

Part 2 is Here

Part 3 is Here

The explosion rocked the entire village, flattening the majority of it. Only the houses on the outskirts were safe, being slightly cracked and torn, but didn’t fully flatten them. In one of these houses, The Duke had closed his doors to his shop, holding his most valuable items close to his body, hoping that his abundance of fat would act as a pillow for it.

Once the explosion was over, through the quakes and falling rubble, he came out almost untouched. He then opened his door, just a crack though, so he could see the damage. There were a few cracks, but, for the most part, the house was fine. Seeing the coast being clear, he opened his doors fully, putting his valuables back onto the shelf. He looked around more, seeing if there were any survivors, even a few lycan. Nothing could be seen, or even heard. He felt a bit concerned, wondering if anyone was hiding, or if everyone else was truly dead. He looked out one of the windows, seeing that part of the Dimitrescu residence was still, surprisingly intact, even if the rest of it was in shambles. He wondered if the other lords’ residences were still somewhat together, looking back at the small crystal sculptures that he had placed on the top shelf.

   He smiled at them, before noticing that one of the sculptures, Karl’s, was gone! He panicked, searching around his shop for it, turning as much as he could to get a full view of his surroundings. After a while of searching, he heard a small groan of pain.

   “Hello?” He shouted out, grabbing one of his many guns, just to defend himself in case it was a lycan. He didn’t want to use it, considering that it was a shop item, but it was for self-defense. A figure walked into view.

   “Duke?” He heard, a thick Mid-Western American accent present.

   “Lord Heisenberg?” The Duke asked, shocked. Karl walked into the house, in his regular clothes, with small specks of dirt and what looked like small crystals on his clothes. He had his hand on his forehead, rubbing his head and temples.

   “How the hell…” Karl groaned, looking up at The Duke. The Duke stared at him in shock, Karl’s presence being completely unexpected. Karl took his sunglasses off, rubbing his eyes. “What happened? Where is everyone?” He seemed dazed, his tone confused and slightly in pain.

   “I…” The Duke tried to answer, but he really didn’t have answers that would help his questions. He usually had everything, but this one really stumped him. He would have never been able to call this.

After a while, Karl and The Duke spoke about what had happened as The Duke brought his shop around the remains of the village, a few questions lingering on their minds. The Duke would look back once in a while, seeing if what happened to Karl was going to happen to the others. Once they arrived at the remains of The Dimitrescu Castle, The Duke looked behind him again, seeing that Alcina’s sculpture was gone too. “Karl?”

   “What?” He asked, his headache gone at this point.

   “Do you see anybody around?” The Duke looked around a bit.

   “No-” Karl stopped, seeing a figure slowly stand up in front of one of the windows, the darkness of the building hiding who it was. They weren’t nearly as tall as Alcina, but they had a similar figure. “Hey!” Karl yelled up to them, them turning their head to the window, sticking their head out.

   “Who’s there?” They yelled out, their head being lit up by the sunlight once they stuck their head out the window. It was Alcina! She too had her hand on her temple, her eyes squinted from the light.

   “Come down here! Now!”

   “Alright, give me a second,” She yelled back, walking away from the window. After a bit, she walked through the doorway near the window on the lower floor. She was in the same clothes, however, she had rolled up her dress so she wouldn’t step on it. She was holding her hat, tipping it back so it would be out of her face, but it also shielded her body from the sun. Her jewelry didn’t fit her anymore, her necklace hanging on her neck, sliding down her chest. She was still tall, but not 9’6 tall, more like 6’5 now. “Care to give me an explanation on our predicament!?” She asked angrily to The Duke.

   He put his hands up, replying with, “Relax my lord, relax. At least you’re safe-”

   “AND SHORT! I’M A MIDGET NOW!” She yelled, incredibly upset. She looked like she was about to cry. Seems to have been decades since she was a “normal” height. The Duke and Karl looked at eachother, shrugging, before looking back at Alcina. After a bit of breathing to calm herself down, she asked, “Well, where are my daughters? If I’m alive, they MUST be.” The Duke looked behind him, seeing the sculptures of her three daughters, still sitting there on the shelf below the top one.

   “I’m sorry madam, but-” He grabbed the sculptures. “They are still-”

   “MY BABIES!” She quickly snatched them away from him, holding them close. “My poor little angels…” She started to cry onto the statues as Karl and The Duke just stood there in silence. Eventually, The Duke just offered to let her sit on the side of the shop so they could keep looking around. She took it, sitting by The Duke, her daughters still in her arms, slightly rocking them. Karl stood on the opposite side of the shop, keeping his eyes away from her.

   A while later, they arrive at the outskirts of The Beneviento Residence. The bridge was broken, but thankfully, there was another route around to get to the house, however, it took around an hour to get there with that route. Karl groaned when heard about how long it would take, his feet hurting at this point. The Duke offered to let him sit on the shop side, but Karl declined, however, halfway through the walk, Karl quickly jumped onto the side, sitting down. The Duke, once he noticed, just rolled his eyes as they went along. Once they reached the house, Karl looked around the residence as The Duke looked at the shelf again, wondering if Angie was going to disappear. However, instead, Angie slowly started to come to life. Literally.

   “What the fuck! Where’s Donna!?” She yelled, trying to look threatening in front of The Duke. Karl turned back to Angie.

   “Donna?” He asked.

   “Yes! Her! Where is she?!”

   “No, is that you Donna?”

   “No! I’m LOOKING for DONNA!” She clarified before hopping out of the shop and looking around. “We need to find her! She could be in danger!”

   “We are looking for her,” The Duke replied. “I’m assuming that you wish to help?”

   “YES!” She yelped, running into the house, somehow getting the door open. Karl kept searching for Donna outside as The Duke looked around as well, but mainly comforted Alcina as she tried to wipe the tears from her eyes without getting her dress dirty with her mascara. The Duke was kind of unsure that she was revived too, but he didn’t want to deny that she had been, considering Angie’s rude awakening. After a while, a few hours specifically, Karl returned to the shop.

   “She ain’t around outside, maybe Angie found her-”

   “COME ON! We need to go!” Angie yelled from inside the house, opening the door. She was holding Donna’s hand, Donna seeming to be almost completely perplexed. She had a large backpack on her along with her regular clothing. “See? They are here too!” Angie dragged her over to them, seeming to smile, even though she technically couldn’t. Donna just shrugged her head onto her shoulders, slightly waving before looking up to The Duke.

   “How did you get here?” She asked in her regularly quiet tone.

   “I used the back road,” He replied. She just nodded as he patted a spot on the shop side. “We should probably keep going. We still have one more person to get, considering.” He looked over his shoulder, seeing Salvatore’s sculpture. Karl’s attention went from Donna to The Duke.

   “Moreau?” He thought for a second looking at the other two. “Will he be changed too?” He asked, somewhat with a form of childlike curiosity. The Duke slightly chuckled at his tone. Donna sat down next to Karl, Angie sitting on her lap. Donna poked around at Angie a bit, seeming trying to figure out how she was alive completely on her own. The Duke started to drive his shop out back onto the back road. On the road, Karl looked at her backpack, it slightly bumping into him. “What’s in the bag Donna?”

   She took a minute to answer, before whispering, “Stuff I thought I’d need, and stuff for Angie.” Karl asked further, but she didn’t answer much, mainly focused on Angie, who seemed to be a bit irritated by the prodding. Karl was sure that, if Donna wasn’t Donna, Angie would’ve yelled at her and swatted her hand away by now. Alcina had stopped crying at this point, but stayed silent still, watching the road as they drove along, her daughters in her lap.

   About 2 hours later, they could see the outskirts of the Moreau residence, passing by the clinic while heading to the main reservoir. While passing it, a loud groan could be heard from inside the clinic. While Karl, Donna, Angie, and Alcina looked over to the clinic, The Duke looked behind him, seeing that Salvatore’s sculpture was gone. Karl and Donna saw it too, Karl jumping off of the shop, running towards the clinic. Angie went after him, Donna getting dragged along. Karl busted the door down, looking around the small room.

He looked down to the floor, seeing Salvatore’s coat on the floor, with something, someone, underneath. Fingertips were sticking out of the ends of the sleeves, a bit of black hair sticking out the top, and with lower legs and feet sticking out the bottom. Once Angie and Donna had gotten into the clinic, Karl had taken the coat off of him. Under the coat, a man laid on the floor, only in a pair of dark green pants, stained with mud and what seemed to be puke, slightly breathing, groaning and coughing slightly. Besides the scars and acne scars that lined his back and the beginnings of his arms, and a small set of gills on his neck, he seemed… pretty normal, and the “mother” tattoo confirmed who it was. Karl looked over to Donna, gesturing to Salvatore.

“Help me out here, will ya?” He asked, trying to pick him up by his arm, trying to pull him over his back. Donna ran over, picked him up by the other arm, helping Karl as Angie cleared one of the operating tables. Karl and Donna hoisted him onto it, putting him face up. Once they got him up there, Alcina was in the doorway, a bag with her that had her daughters in it. She looked at Salvatore, her face turning to confusion, before almost looking like her expression was going to fall off her face. He was white, with long back hair that went halfway down his chest. He wasn’t very muscular, but he certainly wasn’t fat or skinny either. It was more like a dad-bod, like Karl, but a bit bigger. He also seemed to be a bit taller than Karl as well. Karl was going to ask her about it before Salvatore coughed a little, groaning in pain, slowly opening his eyes. His eyes were a dark green, as if the yellows and greys that used to be there had disappeared, along with the rest of his monstrous form. They turned back to him, looking down on him on the operating table. He looked up at each of them, before sitting his head up slightly.

“Donna…” He murmured, before his eyes shot open, moving Karl to the side before leaning his head over the side of the table, throwing up. Alcina jumped back, a disgusted look on her face as Angie jumped onto a table to get away from the vomit. Salvatore groaned, putting his hand on his head. Donna went to place a hand on his shoulder, before he just yelled out, placing his hands over his ears, his legs coming up. “GET OUT YOU BASTARD!” He shrieked, sitting up. “LEAVE ME BE!” He brought his head to his knees. He yelled one more time before going silent, lightly breathing. Karl, Angie, and Alcina stood far back as Donna placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Um… Sal?” She quietly asked, pulling at her face covering. He slowly looked over to her, wiping his mouth.

“Sorry Donna…” He apologized, smiling at her. “It’s been a while, huh?” She tilted her head slightly, before she jumped back in shock. Salvatore’s eyes widened, realizing that the obvious had never occurred to him, that she wouldn’t know what he was referring to. It upsetted him a bit, but it did make sense. Donna held up a finger in a “just a second” way, before running out of the clinic. While she was gone, he went on stand up, before grabbing his head again, stomping his foot on the floor. He hissed in pain, realizing he was barefoot, stomping on concrete, but it did seem to stop his nuisance. He was then able to stand, but his back was a bit stiff, making him slouch. To Karl and Angie’s shock, he placed his hands on his back, pushing it forward to loosen the muscles in his back, finally standing up straight. Alcina stood in silence with Karl and Angie, but didn’t seem to be in as much shock as the two. As Salvatore looked at himself, Donna ran back in, a picture frame in her hands. She stood in front of Salvatore, holding up the frame, before it slipped out of her hands, shattering on the floor. Salvatore was confused for a second, before looking down and seeing the people in it.

The photo contained two people. One of the people seemed to be Donna, in the clothing that could be seen in one of her large portraits, but without Angie, surprisingly. The other person to the right was a taller man in a doctor’s uniform. He was white with dark green eyes, with his black, long hair tied back in a ponytail, some of it wasn’t tied with the rest, so it slipped underneath the rest of it, the ends resting on his shoulders. They stood side by side, seemingly outside in front of one of the gardens that used to be lined around the village, her holding onto the crook of his arm. Donna was too busy standing there in shock, placing her now empty hand on his face, as if to check for something. He smiled at her, closing his eyes and placing a hand over hers.

“I missed you Donna. I hope I didn’t scare you.” The small part of her face covering that was touching her face became a bit wet.

“Doctor?…”

[screechthemighty]

An Essay About Resident Evil: Village That No One Asked For But I’m Posting It Anyways

So, the Beneviento House is my favorite part of Village for two reasons. One: it’s the scariest part of the game, don’t @ me. Two: On a second play through, it actually reveals a lot about the issues in Ethan and Mia’s marriage. There’s a lot to unpack here with that, but the tl;dr of it is this: I believe what Ethan experiences in House Beneviento is trip into Ethan’s psyche rather than an actual, physical event, and this trip confirms that his arguments with Mia were made worse by a) him worrying about Rose more than he worries about himself, and b) him assuming that Mia is worried about the same things he is; thus, his hallucinations of her are more a reflection of himself than they are of reality.

All of my logic and evidence is under the cut. Fair warning, it’s very long, I am so sorry, I really am. Aso, please note this is NOT a Mia-bashing post. We do not engage in Mia-bashing on this blog. Please go to someone else’s blog if you want to engage in Mia-bashing. Thank you.

There’s two important things to establish here. First: I think that 99% of what Ethan experiences in House Beneviento isn’t real, and is at least partially a manifestation of Ethan’s inner psyche. The evidence is as follows:

It makes no sense that Ethan would lose his entire inventory within the space of 0.5 seconds after the lights shut off. It makes much more sense that mind control made him think he no longer had a gun.

Several of the items and information used in the puzzles are things that Donna, logically, shouldn’t have access to. The music box was still in their home when Chris arrived (which wasn’t that long ago, keep in mind), I doubt Miranda cared enough to find out Rose’s preferred toys and the identity of who gifted them the music box, and there’s no way Donna would be able to get that picture of “Mia’s” dead body. Mia’s wedding ring is tentatively on this list, too; Donna would have access to it, since Mia was being held captive at the time, but I can’t remember if Mia is still wearing it when Chris saves her, so put that one down as a “maybe.”

You stab Angie (or, more properly, stab Donna) for the final time in the back room by the elevator. However, right after stabbing and killing her, you are suddenly by the front door again, the main part of the house is in shambles in a way that suggests a struggle, and you’re not holding the scissors anymore. If you try to backtrack to check the elevator, the door leading to that part of the house is locked (presumably From The Other Side, as they often are in RE).

Additionally, your entire inventory is spontaneously back in your pockets. In Biohazard, if you had inventory taken off of you, it had to be retrieved from a box later. Not this time (though, granted, this game doesn’t HAVE inventory boxes, but it’s an interesting detail when combined with everything else).

All of this, to me, points to Ethan having probably never left the main foyer throughout the majority of that mind trip. As for the hallucinations being fueled mostly by his psyche, a diary entry from the gardener mentions that the plants made him hallucinate his deceased wife, and as mentioned above, a lot of the puzzle relates to things specific and personal to Ethan. While I don’t doubt that Donna could and probably did influence the hallucination a bit (she is a puppet master after all), the building blocks were all there in Ethan’s head.

Second Important Thing to Establish: Ethan was completely missing the point during his arguments with Mia in the lead up to Village.

I’m of the opinion that the fights Ethan mentions in his diary were not a constant thing. I think they only started, at the earliest, while Mia was pregnant, but for sure after Rose was born. This is because pretty much all the canon evidence we see about their fights circles back to Rose. The diary entry where Ethan describes the fight they had is dated four days before Ethan’s death; meanwhile, the flashback fight (which is most likely of that very fight) is triggered by a conversation about Rose’s doctor’s visit and uses language that implies a lot of their talks (and presumably arguments) about “staying positive” have to do specifically with Rose and the move.

It’s also worth keeping in mind how much of Ethan’s thoughts about Dulvey and moving past it are related to Rose. Like, yeah, I’m sure he wants Mia to heal for her own good and he’d like to heal for his own good. That’s to be expected. But whenever he talks about moving to Europe and healing from Dulvey, it’s also about doing it for Rose and for her benefit (“so we can live our lives with Rose without it hanging over our heads” in the diary, “We moved here so that she wouldn’t have to deal with any of that” in the argument with “Mia” at the start). Additionally, in the flashback he says, “[Rose]’s going to be fine, I just know it. What else matters?” Rose is Ethan’s #1 priority and much of his concern is focused on her.

But—and this is the important thing here—not all of Mia’s is. The end of the game reveals that Mia knew, most likely as a result of her pregnancy with Rose, that Ethan was a megamycete hybrid.  In the flashback fight, she says, “I keep telling you, it’s not Rose that I’m worried about”, and the one moment when she truly explodes on him is after he implies that the only thing that matters is Rose’s safety. “We matter, Ethan! YOU matter! You just won’t-” Her exact words. We never find out what the won’t is, but I have a feeling what she’s getting at is that Ethan is unwilling to look past his worries about Rose and always circles the argument back to her. Now, we don’t see this directly, as we’re only privy to one real argument of theirs (Miranda being bitchy doesn’t count), but there’s past evidence to suggest this was probably the case.

The thing about Ethan is that he can be single-minded in his protective instinct, and we’ve known this since the last game. There’s a little throwaway moment in Biohazard where Mia thanks Ethan for choosing to save her over Zoe. He responds “Who the hell else was I going to choose?” with like, zero hesitation, and she seems taken aback by the response. Now, of course, Mia being his choice makes sense, she’s the whole reason he came here, But Zoe did still help him out, and she is still a victim in all of this. She deserved to get out of there as much as Mia did. But Ethan chose Mia without any hesitation, would have chosen her every time, and while he did promise (and keep said promise) to help Zoe, Mia was his top priority. He lost a limb (or two, depending) and dragged himself through hell for Mia—and keep in mind, this is despite him being on some level aware of the fact that she was involved in all that mess (he POINT BLANK ASKS, “You had something to do with all of this, didn’t you?”) and after she’d behaved aggressively towards him (granted, that was while she was under mind control, but that would definitely give some people pause).

Ethan cares about other people in his life first and foremost. Ethan barely cares about himself. He focuses on saving Mia at the expense of his own safety and someone else’s, and when things start getting bad again after Dulvey, his sole focus is on how it could affect Rose. I have a feeling a big part of the reasons the disagreements happened, in addition to Mia keeping information from him, was Ethan focusing on Rose’s safety, as if it’s the only thing that they could have to be worried about, and how frustrating that must have been for the woman who has seen first hand what Ethan is like and how much trouble his intense protectiveness can get him in. (Note: this does not excuse Mia from not just like. Telling him the truth, but I have my own theories about that, so we’ll leave it at “they were both talking past each other in a big way and that wasn’t helping the marriage any” because my analysis of Mia as a character is WAY beyond the scope of this post.)

Now, you’d think, you’d think with Mia having repeatedly telegraphed that Rose isn’t the problem here, that Ethan would on some level be aware of the fact that something else is going on. But he isn’t, or at least, he isn’t aware of the right things, and Beneviento House proves it.

So, Ethan is having a hell of a bad trip based off of his own insecurities and fears: his unresolved issues with Mia and his daughter’s safety. We have established above that Ethan has completely been misreading his arguments, and with that in mind, everything that Hallucination!Mia says from the second you see her gets really interesting. Starting with:

“Rose feels different. Ethan, you have to fix her” and “That’s a kick. […] She’s so energetic, it’s crazy.” Mia most likely caught on during the pregnancy that something was different about Rose. They were already ordering medical reports, including fungal pathogen testing by the BSAA, and her health was a definite source of anxiety for Ethan (his response to reading her medical file being a relieved sigh). Mia notices something is different about Rose, probably works it out, and realizes what the wider implications are for the family. Ethan is just plain worried about his daughter’s health, assumes Mia’s worries match his own, and that assumption is reflected in both the memories that come to the surface and the words his psyche put in Mia’s mouth.

“I can’t tell Ethan anything about this”, “Everyone leaves me, even Rose. I don’t want to be alone” and “I didn’t want to keep it from you. I didn’t want to lose you again. I didn’t want to destroy this family. I love you both so much. I had to. I had to do it.” Now, I don’t think the last two are anything Mia has directly said, but they all could be Ethan’s interpretation of her recent behavior. As mentioned above, he’s already aware that she’s kept at least one secret from him, and seems to know something is going on with Rose. If Mia’s not telling me, it’s because she’s worried about both of us, and doesn’t want to break up the family.

This one is a bit of conjecture and my own personal interpretation of Mia, but you’ve come this far, so hear me out: through these hallucinations, Ethan reads the aggressive secret-keeping as an attempt to keep the family together so that Mia won’t be abandoned again. I think he’s probably at least partially correct in that assumption. However, I think it’s also partially a projection of his own desires and motivations (keeping his family together at any costs). On top of that, he’s definitely missing the fact that Mia knows something is up with him as well. Telling Ethan doesn’t just potentially mean wrecking the family; it could wreck him on a personal level, and put him in a lot of danger. So while Ethan assumes it’s just about the family, there’s a lot more on Mia’s mind. That a lot more just isn’t reflected because Ethan doesn’t know.

The final bits of audio you hear are Mia crying for Rose, then repeating to herself that everything is going to be fine. Again, we know that Mia was worried about more than Rose. Ethan doesn’t. Ethan is worried about Rose first and foremost, has misread Mia due to his singular focus and lack of vital information, and in misreading Mia has created this version of events where Rose is the one who’s really in danger. Despite Mia indicating there’s more to it, he still reads what’s going on as being Rose-centered, and the fact that Rose is now genuinely in serious danger doesn’t help with that.

At the end, when Ethan says “Mia. I’ll make things right”, he’s talking about the wrong thing. He’s saying he’ll protect Rose, he’ll save her, he’ll keep her safe in a way he hadn’t been able to with Mia.

What he’s missing is the fact that, while he might’ve been just worried about Rose, Mia never was. That’s one part he can’t make right. Mia would’ve had to; she just never got the chance.

(Sidebar no one asked for, but I personally think she would have, either of her own accord or because the BSAA fungal reports (which seem to be the test results the doctor wanted to talk to them about if I’m understanding the timeline right) would’ve blown the whole thing wide open for her. It was basically inevitable. Doesn’t excuse all the secret keeping up until that point, but I like to think she would’ve come clean. Freaking MIRANDA JUST HAD TO GO AND RUIN IT THOUGH - )

[captainjimothycarter]

What are Steve's wedding vows to Peggy?

Hey i wrote something since like Saturday. kinda proud of myself despite BAD anxiety over this.

--

“Are you ready, Steve?”

The question came from Edwin Jarvis, the man sticking his head in through the curtains to smile at the nervous Captain. Steve just held up the bowtie in despair, trying to hide the shake in his fingers.

“I can mull down hundreds of Nazis. I can fight Hydra to the bone and-and nearly be killed by a frozen tundra, but what defeats me is a god dang bow tie!”

Jarvis laughed as he stepped into the small side room, giving him a comforting smile. “You know,” he mused as he started to do the tie. “When I was marrying my Ana, I was so nervous I fainted right as we got to I do.”

Steve felt himself gap, looking the man up and down. He could picture that, not that he would say it. He felt like he might faint before he even got out to where Bucky and Colonel Phillips were waiting for him.

“When I came to, my head was in Ana’s lap and I insisted she was an angel. She practically is - not that I’ll ever insist anything different. She’s never let me live that down, that rascal. The point is, Captain Rogers,” the man smirked as he finished the tie and smoothed it out along Steve’s neck. “It’s okay to be nervous.”

“I’m...Captain America, I shouldn’t be nervous, I wasn’t nervous when-”

“Let me ask you something,” Jarvis spoke over him, patting the guy’s shoulders to get him to sit down. He pulled a comb out of nowhere and started to fix Steve’s mousy hair from his constant fingers combing through it. All Steve could do was look on in the mirror. “When you bulldozed through of Hydra agents or lead your Howling Commandos through countless missions or did whatever you did in what the reports do not say, were you nervous?”

“Of course not, those guys depended on me. I couldn’t afford to be nervous or second think my actions, someone might’ve died.” Plenty of people did, in ways Steve could’ve never stopped or predicted unless he’d been there, but he was one person.

Not that Jarvis was asking about this.

“Exactly. They depended on you. You needed to be ready for anything, to overcome anything Hydra would’ve thrown at you. Yet with Miss Carter, you’re nervous about your wedding? It’s practically a tradition to be nervous. Do you know what that means?”

“That I’ll fumble my vows or drop the rings and it’ll roll into a gutter, never to be seen again?”

Jarvis snorted and lightly squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “No, Captain Rogers, it does not. It means that you love her. You love Miss Carter with every fiber of your being. It means you, my friend, will have an amazing wedding and marriage. Even if you do fumble, you can do no worse than me and fainting.”

Steve covered his face, trying to stabilize his breathing. He did love Peggy - Jarvis was right. There was no doubt about that. He loved her. Loved her so damn much he might explode. He just...was nervous.

“Being nervous,” Jarvis continued as he put the comb away and tilted Steve’s head up to inspect himself in the black and white suit. “Being nervous is a tradition. It means you love her. I’m sure Miss Carter is nervous too.”

Steve’s mouth opened to counter, Peggy couldn’t be nervous - he’s seen her stare enemies dead in the eye and not miss a beat. He’s seen her let herself get shot if it meant saving the hostage. He’s seen her survive countless trails and still stand on top at the end of the day. There’s no way Peggy was nervous. Yet, the second he opened his mouth to say something, Bucky stuck his head through the curtain.

His hair was perfectly parted thanks to his mother’s intervention. He was sure the second his ma wasn’t looking, he would mess it up. The suit he wore was a little on the older side, insisting he got to wear his dad’s suit to this wedding.

“You ready, Stevie? That green isn’t a good shade, bud.”

Steve gently swatted at Bucky’s chest as he adjusted the suit once more, trying to take in a deep breath to calm down.

“Shut up. I’m just...nervous. How’s everything looking? We ready?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be. Ole Phillips is grumbling as ever. Dugan is waiting up there, Angie is ready. We’ve already had to stop the niece and nephew from throwing the flowers everywhere.”

“Oliver and Penny really like those roses, huh?” Steve’s lips twitched into a small laugh at the idea of the kids going haywire with those roses. “And Peggy? Is she…?”

“Ana and Rose and even Howard are in there, it’s alright.” Seeing his friend’s panic look, he smoothed down his suit again, the metallic hand glimmering in the dull light of the chapel. “Let’s get this party started and get you two crazy kids married.”

--

“Always knew you two would end up together,” Phillips grunted as Steve stood nervously, shifting from foot to foot. “From the second she laid eyes on that scrawny form of yours.”

Steve laughed, a more forceful laugh given the nervous state he was in. He watched Jarvis politely sit down after checking in on the girls, Rose already coming up to stand by them. Bucky clapped Steve on the shoulder, squeezing him too hard.

“Told you,” he chuckled. “You two were meant to be…”

“‘cept you shouldn’t have shown up in the bar when we were having your public funeral,” Dugan interjected. “Not the best idea, Cap.”

“You’re lucky Carter didn’t shoot you on the spot, coming up with a soiled uniform, and half that glass in your chest,” Phillips grunted.

“Wouldn’t have hurt as bad, if-”

Steve stopped the second he heard Ana playing the piano, turning on his heels and towards the door.

He watched Oliver and Penny run through with the flowers, throwing them everywhere but the floor. His little giggle and the laugh through the chapel made him relax a little, but the second he saw Peggy, everything was back in full force.

She was...beautiful, spectacular. A thousand words he couldn’t think to say. His mind nothing but a fine-tuned sound of buzzing as he watched her slowly walk through that door. Ana had worked perfectly on that dress, the trim, the lace, every down to the last details of the pearls knitted into the collar.

Steve could feel the tears burning in his eyes as she slowly stood in front of him, hearing in the corner of his mind, Phillips muttering about sap.

He loved her.

“You look…” Steve struggled with the word as he held onto her glove-laced hands, looking down at them and slowly back to those beautiful hazel eyes that he’d fallen in love with before he even knew what color they were.

“I know,” Peggy finished, squeezing his hands. “You look pretty dashing yourself. We-”

“How about we get this show on the road, huh?” Phillips asked, breaking the silence, and the music slowly melted into the background. “We all knew we’d end up here today. It was just a matter of time and if it was legal or not. I expected you two to just waltz into my tent one day and demand to be married, the laws and logic be damned.”

“Almost,” Steve mused, shrugging his shoulders. Phillips’ grey eyes were trained on him, brow rose as if to ask what. “I proposed to Peggy after she’d been shot during the hostage situation of ‘44.”

“Son.” The tone said all and the Howling Commandos laughed the loudest. Steve glanced over to see Peggy’s side of the family, most with pursed lips. They still weren’t pleased that their daughter was marrying a Yankee.

“We told him to do it,” Dugan interjected.

“Dared him, actually,” Jones added.

“Double-dog dared him,” Bucky said.

“Actually, we told him to do it or we would on his behalf,” Pinky reminded them.

“We-”

Phillips’ look silenced Falsworth on the spot, the man clearing his throat and stepping back in line. “We’re no longer at war, boys, you don’t have to keep defending your Captain under insane circumstances. I’ll never forget about the damn goat incident.”

--

It was only a few minutes later before Phillips cleared his throat again and nodded towards the couple. “The couple has written their own vows. Ca-Steve, would you like to go first?”

Steve blinked as he felt Peggy’s eyes on him, trying to calm his racing heart down. “Okay, yeah. Yeah,” he breathed, taking the paper Dugan had passed him. “I stayed up till 4 in the morning working on this. Mr. Jarvis had to eventually take the pen from me so I’d sleep.”

“And he didn’t accept my help,” Howard muttered just loud enough for Steve to hear, making the Captain flush.

“Okay, here it goes,” Steve breathed, unfolding the paper and trying not to let how nervous he was shown. His hands were already starting to shake and he was afraid sweat would ruin the ink.

Peggy’s hand gently closed around his wrist and offered him a comforting smile. “It’s okay, darling. Just us. Not a whole platoon of guys to play Star-Spangled Man With A Plan.”

If he wasn’t blushing then, he was now.

“Peggy, I…” Steve looked down at the paper and back up at her. He could hear Jarvis’s voice in the back of his head telling him that when he got up there, he’d know what to say. Fumbling or not.

“Peggy, I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I first laid eyes on you and I didn’t know it. I didn’t know what the color of your lips was or the color of your eyes or your hair or even your uniform. I didn’t know the true sound of your voice or the smell of the roses on your skin. I didn’t know much then - hell I don’t know much now -”

A few people laughed and Steve lowered the paper, looking dead into his wife-to-be eyes.

“I didn’t know much then. I just knew you were hell on high heels and damn anyone who got in your path. When you first knocked out Hodge, I felt my breath taken away. When you ran for the grenade too, I wanted my last sight to be of you, swore I was goin’ blow myself up to a million pieces. Our first conversation in that car might’ve been one of our lasts and I was glad it was with you, someone who understood me. Understood what it was like to be discriminated against because we’re us… Because I was sickly and small and you were a woman, a girl, a-”

“You still don’t know how to talk to women, do you?” Peggy asked, blinking the tears from her eyes and making Steve give a wet laugh.

“I”m afraid not, how I managed to get you to fall in love with me is a wonder. The point is, Pegs, I love you, from the bottom of my heart. All through the war, we talked about what we wanted after. I insisted on a white-picket fence, a house in some neighborhood, that we’d build the perfect life together and well...you saw where that lead us. Me to a watery grave and you punching me out when I showed up at that bar. Even if I was late for our dance.

I just...I love you. Life has taken us on insane turns from clearing our friend’s name to-to living in LA for a few months. To...to here. To me finally getting the guts to purpose to you. Or more like catching my breath. I need you in my life and I’m lucky to have you. I’m more than happy to sit on the sidelines and let you work, to raise our kids or tend to a home, to do anything you ask. I’m more than happy to just be yours. I just...I need to be yours like I need to breathe. You are my life, Peggy Carter, and I’ll have no other but you. I’m lucky to be your husband, to be by your side through it all.”

Peggy didn’t bother to hide the few tears running down her face, thankful Angie had fixed her makeup just right to prevent the tear streaks from showing. She cleared her face off with the handkerchief Rose had given her and sniffled.

“Sap,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I stayed up late last night but not writing these vows. I...told myself I knew what I was going to say when I got up here, but I’m mistaken. I can only say I love you, Steve Rogers. You are my life. My soul. When I was young, I insisted I wouldn’t marry. I insisted my life was to slay dragons, rescue knights, be a pirate. To be anything but the lady my mother wanted me to be.

I insisted I knew what I wanted for myself. That I-I wanted to be a codebreaker and I was good at it. I-”

“And saved our lives with it,” Howard said, causing them to laugh.

“Yes, Howard, thank you. I am good at it. I’m great at it. I insisted that’s all I could do to help the war effort, to maybe consider becoming a nurse but my mother and Fred forbidden it. I insisted I loved Fred because my mother did. I insisted that I could do some good by staying home, being the good wife, and keeping my head down. I insisted on a lot of things but for myself…

It took Micheal’s death for me to see there was more for me out there. The SSR was life-changing for me. Getting to serve under Colonel Phillips’ here, getting to meet you, even if you were...different.”

“It’s okay, call him a shrimp like I did,” Phillips interjected, making Peggy give a wet chuckle. “Kid got that sandwich after all.”

He swore the man smiled at him - even if Steve wouldn’t admit it.

“You were different. You stood out from the rest and it was because of your good heart. Yes the grenade incident, but you helped the nurses around the base. You helped collect herbs for them when we ran out of pain killers, you remembered decades-old healing practices that your mother taught you. You gave some of the guys, even if they were bastards to you, advice on how to fix their broken shoelaces or how to even hide the knives better in their clothes. You were kind and sweet-hearted and I wanted you from the start.

Even after your serum, you didn’t change. You saved that kid. You saved me, even if I was quite upset about it.”

“You did yell at me a lot for pushing you out of the way,” Steve interrupted, remembering that chaotic day.

“You were running with no shoes on and shoved me out of the way of an oncoming car. I had to yell about something.” She smoothed down his suit and sighed, shaking the veil. “Even after that, Steve, I...I love you. I loved you from the start. During the war, that love only grew. I thought we hid it well.”

“No,” Bucky snorted. “No, you two did not. Everyone knew.”

“Yes, thank you, James,” Peggy huffed, giving her friend a roll of her eyes. “That love for you grew and I’m only sorry we didn’t act sooner, that we didn’t kiss more or-or risk it to just touch each other in blatant public when we needed the comfort because it was a war. I am sorry that it took this long to get here - but we’re here. Look at us. We’re here, sweetheart. We’re getting married after all in a setting of our choice, with our friends and family. It’s worth the wait.”

“You’re always worth the wait,” Steve whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I love you,” Peggy whispered, squeezing his hands. “I loved you then, to now, and forevermore. I’ll never stop loving you, no part of my soul will be complete without you. You are my light, Steven Grant Rogers, as I am your compass, your true star north. You are my light and I want nothing more from you than a life that we paved together.”

There was no dry eye around them, even the grisled Colonel was sniffing slightly and wiping at his eyes. He squeezed the book in his hand and gave the couple a warm smile. “Aren’t you two kids sweet? Why don’t we wrap this up so you two can kiss like how you did in the supply closets?”

Steve felt his ears burn, turning back to Peggy and holding her hands. He wasn’t sure how he survived the rest of the ceremony. Of Bucky bringing the rings to them, his ma’s old ring that Howard had cleaned up and engraved with their wedding date on it. Peggy’s father’s wedding band.

He wasn’t sure how he barely got the words I do our before Peggy was jumping on him to kiss him and Steve’s arms found a way around her frame to pick her up and kiss the life out of her.

The wedding they dreamed of and feared that they never had.

A life yet to come with many memories down the road.

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Kiss the Girl (Part 5)

~Series Master~

Word Count: 1.5K

~Master~

A/N: I’m not gonna hide it, I’m so glad this series is over 😂 As it progressed I kept feeling stressed and like it will flop, so please let me know what you think and leave feedback!

Previously...

“I’m really sorry for everything, Y/N.” George said as you pulled away, wiping the tears off your face and taking a deep breath.

“Me too, George.” You breathed out, letting yourself calm down. “Wow, I can’t believe-“

“-that we’re both stupid?” George finished for you, wiping some tears from his own eyes.

“The stupidest.” You laughed, looking at him with a smile.

“So, what now?” To answer George’s question, you didn’t know. What was next?

You stayed quiet, looking at George before letting your eyes glance down to your hands and the memory of that feeling from earlier resurfaced. “I don’t know.”

After you and George worked things out yesterday, you never felt better. It was a relief knowing that you had a grasp on your feelings, even if you still trying to figure them out. It did make you nervous however, knowing that before George and you had spoken, you felt something a certain feeling, only you felt it with Fred. Fred who you went to whenever you needed advice, help, a distraction. Fred who had seen every good thing and every bad thing about you and still chooses to stay by your side. You felt dumb, all these years Fred had been right there and you were so focused on his brother that you didn’t pay him any mind.

How oblivious could you be?

“Y/N!” you were walking aimlessly through the halls, your books tucked against your chest as you lost yourself in your thoughts. “Y/N?” An arm fell around your shoulder as you jumped and looked up to see the man in question right next to you, brows furrowed as he looked confused. “You didn’t hear me?”

You swallow and shook your head. “Must have been thinking to hard.” You smiled at him, seeing his face relax as he realized you weren’t ignoring him.

He walked by your side, glancing around before taking your hand and leading you to an empty classroom. Taking your books out your hands, he put both of yours on the table before focused on you. “So, how’d it go?” He asked as you quirked a brow. “Yesterday? With George?” You made an ‘o’ with your mouth as you glanced down, breaking eye contact briefly to realize he was still holding your hand, fingers wrapped around yours gently.

You cleared your throat. “It was good.” You told him as a small smile crossed your lips, pulling the corners up as Fred and you looked at each other.

He waited, assuming you were going to say more but you stayed silent. “That’s it?” He asked. “Just good?”

You put your free hand on his shoulder, raising your brows at his reaction. “Yes, Freddie. Just good.” Taking a deep breath, you let your hand fall off his shoulder, brushing his arm on the way down as he looked at it quickly before looking away to you again. “He told me he loved me.”

Fred’s heart plummeted, but he smiled through it. “Finally, I was wondering when that bloke would do it.” He laughed but you didn’t join him, instead looking at him. Fred’s laughs died out, leaving you both in silence as you squeezed his hand. He cleared his hand, waiting for the release of your hand, the moment he knows you’re George’s, the moment he knows he no longer had a chance. Not that he had much of one to begin with.

“I’m not going to date George.” You whispered, scared of breaking the small silence you’ve built. Fred didn’t know what to say. Could this of been his chance? His mouth opened and closed, words forming on the brink of his tongue but breaking before he could say them. “George and I don’t love each other.” You went on.

“I thought-“ Fred cut himself off, blinking and shaking his head to think.

“We did too. We thought we did too, but we were wrong.” You licked your lips. Fred was beginning to understand. Slowly, but he was understanding. “Do you know how strong crushes are, Freddie?” Fred hesitated, but shook his head. To be honest, he’s never really had a crush, only been utterly and completely in love with someone who wouldn’t love him back. “I had a crush on George for years. I thought he was the one that I wanted to spend my life with.” Again, Fred hid his frown with a smile, one that made his eyes droop and you noticed, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand, sending goosebumps through both of you. “It hurt me seeing George with Angelina, I’m not going to pretend, but it made me realize something.”

“What’s that?” Fred’s voice was rather quiet, internally trying to figure out why you were telling him this.

“I had someone else who managed to make me feel special and worth being happy with. I already had someone I was spending my life with.” You shrugged. You shrugged as if it was the simplest thing ever. Fred just stood there, his frown etched on his face and he didn’t bother to hide it. “I spend it with you.” Your voice cracked as Fred’s eyes met yours, his body stilling and you doubted yourself. You shouldn’t have been saying anything, Fred might not have felt what you had when you were talking, he might not have felt anything-

Your thoughts were caught off as Fred’s arms went around your waist, pulling you against his body faster than any spell could’ve. You gasped, melting into his embrace quickly as your arms fell around his neck, pulling his head closer to yours. Your noses bumped gently together and when your foreheads touched you closed your eyes. “What are you saying, love?” Fred mumbled and you sighed, pulling away just far enough to see into his eyes and cup his cheek.

“I think…” You trailed off, too afraid of saying those words again. Fred’s heart ached, he wanted you to say it. He needed you to say it.

But he wasn’t going to push you. “It’s okay, Y/N. I think I know what you were going to say.” In truth, he had no clue. You could’ve said anything. You think you needed new friends. You think you needed space. You think you actually were in love with George.

Yet, you didn’t say any of that. Instead, you said, “I think I’m in love with you.” The air between you was tense and you weren’t even sure you said it loud enough for Fred to hear. It wasn’t until Fred smiled, wide enough you to watch his eyes crinkle as he leant in, resuming the close position you were in earlier.

“If it helps Y/N,” He spoke softly and you gasped, feeling his arms hug you closer, “I know I’m in love with you. I have been for years.” And with those words, your lips met.

There was a feeling you had as you and Fred kissed, you both were in sync, the only way you could’ve described it was that it was meant to happen. The two of you were meant to happen.

When your lips separated, your bodies hadn’t and instead of pushing away, you wrapped your arms around his neck again, burying your head between the crook of his neck and shoulder as his hands moved to hug you tightly, his own head dipping to rest in the crook of your own neck and the two of you stay there in each other’s embraces for so long.

“Y/N! There you are! We’re going to be late and I’ve been looking for you- oh.” Your head snapped to the door, seeing Angelina walk in and freeze as she looks at you and Fred. “Am I interrupting something?” She asked, taking a step back towards the door.

You laughed at her, slowly feeling Fred’s hands fall off your back as he chuckled as well. “It’s okay, Angie.” You looked between her and Fred. “Um, I’ll be there in a minute.” She nodded, waving to Fred before sending you a look of excitement and rushing out of the room. You shook your head at your best friend’s actions before looking back at Fred. “I have class.” You said, sticking out your lip to pout.

Fred mocked you, letting his head fall onto your shoulder dramatically before he picked it up and kissed your cheek. “Meet in the common room after?” He asked and you nodded, both of you letting go of each other rather slowly.

“It’s a date.” You agreed and started walking backwards out of the room and looking at Fred.

“Uh, Y/N?” Fred asked as you stopped. “Your books?” He pointed to the table where your stack of books still sat. You rolled your eyes and grabbed them, hugging them tight and you pecked Fred’s lips when he didn’t expect it. Rushing faster out of the door, you heard Fred call out to you. “Excuse you! I need a longer one!” He chuckled, throwing his arms out and wanting you to run back into them.

You paused, throwing him a smile and a wink. “Common Room, after class. Then we’ll see what happens.” He watched you disappear, standing still with a smirk on his face as he gathered his own books and started walking the school with no destination in mind, just wanting to live in bliss for a little while more. He ended outside, feeling the sun hit his skin as he sighed.

Fred smiled to himself momentarily, breathing in the crisp air as he leaned against the wall beside him. After years of pining watching your love towards his twin brother go unrequited, Fred Weasley did it. Fred Weasley was finally able to kiss the girl of his dreams.

TAGS ARE CLOSED!!

SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE!

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[prompt-master]

An Unseen Dream

Kokichi didn’t like making a habit of listening to Monokuma, he knew better than anyone else the trickery and danger that might hide behind every word that bear spoke. Every “hint” and every “gift” was nothing more than a push for this game to drive off a cliff. Sure, no one was being harmed. In fact, their goal was rather simple, they just had to date each other in ten day increments and then they could leave. That didn’t leave Kokichi lowering his guard though, any game that they were forced to play couldn’t be a good one. No matter how innocent the rules seemed to be. Kokichi felt everything that damn bear said was just a trick of misdirection.

... But when he heard there was a key that could open the door to fantasies of the participants around him, Kokichi was at the casino gambling his heart away.

The key was a gaudy thing, just holding it felt gross. “A key to certain places filled with greed and lust,” that’s what the casino called it. It made him want to gag, but it made him want to laugh all the same. Greed and lust… he was sure there were many that would use the key for such things. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that some fantasies must get more frisky than others. Especially with that skank Miu walking around. Kokichi wasn’t doing this for lust though. He wasn’t doing it for greed either. Kokichi told himself he was doing this for many, many reasons.

 He was doing it to win the game, because if he knew everyone’s fantasies then it would be a piece of cake to win their hearts within the time limit. This was a game after all, and if anyone would master the ins and outs of it, it would be Ouma Kokichi. 

He was doing it as a means of gathering intel. How could he know things would be alright just because he one some weird dating game? They were kidnapped. For all they knew this could be the first stage of many games. And if they were willing to kidnap for it, they were willing to hurt for it too. It left an annoyed feeling in Kokichi whenever he saw the others, far too relaxed for kidnapping victims. It sometimes felt like he was the only one looking ahead. And if the day came when these people were his enemy… knowing their secretive fantasies wouldn’t hurt. 

And sure.. Maybe he was doing it just for a bit of fun too. In a world of uncensored fantization, amusement surely awaited Kokichi. He could only begin to imagine the hilarious scenarios he could witness with just this key. As he flipped the key around in his hand he wondered if Kiiboy would even be able to have a fantasy. It was probably something boring, like being a human with a 9-5 job. 

Despite all this, Kokichi knew his main reason for buying the key wasn’t so important. He knew that no matter how much he lied to himself there would always be that curiosity for a certain detective and what was buzzing around in his head. He had been fascinated with Shuichi since day one. 

When the others had relaxed and accepted the situation with little to no issue, Shuichi kept his guard up just like Kokichi did. He could tell, he could see it in those tense shoulders. He could tell that between dates Shuichi was investigating every nook and cranny to try and understand who kidnapped them. And although the two seemed to think in opposites, Kokichi couldn’t help but wonder if maybe they were one and the same. Even in a dating game, however, infatuation of any sort was a risk to Kokichi’s safety. He tried, oh he tried, to let go of this but it was hard not to be allured by someone with the talent that Shuichi had. Kokichi was more than just a liar, it was more accurate to say that he was a lie himself. Lying was a part of him, he could never give that up, even when it pushes others away. But a detective… a kind, sweet, attentive detective like Shuichi? Could he one day get to the point where he could lie to his heart's content, but Shuichi would always be able to read between the lines? Could he one day have a playful back and forth with Shuichi, like a real life game of chess where the two one upped each other using only their wits?

Could he get someone who just… understood him?

Kokichi tucked the key under his pillow and fell asleep to thoughts of Shuichi. What sort of fantasy would Shuichi have? Would it be an awe-inspiring one where he had such confidence  that he could be a hero? Maybe Shuichi wished to achieve something grand in his life, and reach celebrity status? Maybe Shuichi would have more… fun thoughts in mind, the quiet ones think the loudest, after all. He drifted off to these possibilities until they were no longer words and instead were just vague thoughts about Shuichi in general. 

But when he opened that door, he saw Kaito instead. 

He spent the entire night playing the role of Kaito’s passionate pilot rival, somehow the gayest and yet straightest thing Kokichi had ever experienced. When he’d woken up, one of the first things he did was march over to Monokuma to ask what gives. Of course, in a fun, unsuspecting, Kokichi way. 

“What? You thought you’d get to choose which student you get to twiddle with? That would be waaaay too much power for one of you naughty brats, upupupu! If you want to see someone special you better work for it.”

Of course. Kokichi couldn’t even pretend to be surprised. There was always a catch with the tricky types. He would know.

So, Kokichi kept trying. Again and again.

Miu, Angie, Gonta, Tenko, Maki, Kaede (he’s pretty sure he played Shuichi in that one), Ryoma, Kiibo. He’d gone through so many god damn dreams. He’d even gone through Korekiyo’s (who he promptly kicked in the face and ran away from). What the Hell was so elusive about Shuichi’s god damn fantasy that he wasn’t able to get lucky enough to see? And as he progressed through the others… it only made him more and more curious about Shuichi. The dreams could range from sexual, to domestic, to platonic, all of which he could see Shuichi having. With how intense the others were, and how much Shuichi kept to himself… damn it all, he just wanted a little peek! He had spent basically the entirety of the first ten days trying harder to get into this one fantasy than he was trying to get along with Rantaro on their dates. 

It was the last day of this iteration. He had already won with Rantaro, so he was safe. But soon enough tomorrow he would have to wake up and woo someone else over in only ten days. Kokichi didn’t want to risk failing, who knows what the punishment could be. This would be the last try for a while, he couldn’t let this silly desire distract him from what was important. 

He wondered what awaited him behind the door this time. Whatever it was, there was a guarantee it wouldn’t be boring. For good or for worse. Keeping his guard up in case he was bombarded with some sort of insanity, Kokichi opened up the door.

…

There was no one there?

Honestly, Kokichi couldn’t help but do a double take. He was expecting a lot of things to happen. Not… nothing. The only sounds in the room were from the obnoxious Merry-Go-Round pony that did laps around the bed. Typically someone would… just be standing there, in front of the bed, already sunken down into their fantasy world. Kokichi glanced to his left, at the pool. No one. He glanced to his right, at the assortment of BDSM gear. No one. Was it possible to get a null result? Maybe there’s no repeats… so he was meant to experience someone he already saw, like Miu, but because he can’t repeat he just gets… nothing? He wouldn't exactly put it past Monokuma to put in place such a boring unnecessary rule.

Ah. Wait. There was a shift on the bed. Maybe he wasn’t alone after all. He approached carefully, unsure if the build up was part of his role or not. 

“Oh.”

In the bed was Shuichi himself. He wasn’t wearing his hat for once, instead it was down at the end of the bed. Shuichi was curled up in a fetal position, wrapped within the golden sheets of the suite’s bed. One of his hands was loosely holding onto the blanket, the other was placed below his parted lips. His hair was slightly tussled, bangs hanging over his face. Most of his face was pressed within the plush, expensive looking pillows. But the exposed bits that Kokichi could see revealed Shuichi looking simply… at ease. It had only been about ten days, but he had never seen Shuichi looked so comfortable and okay. He didn’t even know he could look so relaxed. Kokichi couldn’t bring himself to wake him up.

His fantasy was just… to get some rest. 

Kokichi laid down in the empty space of the bed left to Shuichi. He had never really gotten a moment to indulge in how nice this bed actually feels. He could feel himself sinking into the mattress. He wondered briefly if maybe it was only so relaxing because Shuichi wanted it to be. Kokichi tucked himself under the covers, which felt way too warm and soft for normal bed sheets. Even the movement of the Merry-Go-Round wasn’t grating on his ears anymore, it just felt like a humble background noise that lulled him into relaxation. This had to have been a part of Shuichi’s fantasy. Only he could create a fantasy world designed to ease your mind. He pressed his back against Shuichi’s, thinking about how this could possibly be the closest he’d ever get to him. 

Was this… really all he wanted? The others thought on a monumental scale. They were all so self indulgent, even Kaede. Even himself. But here Shuichi was, within the vast expanses of his imagination, the thing that brought him the most joy was the idea of getting restful sleep. Why did he dream so small? Kokichi gripped the blanket tighter within his fist, feeling the rise and fall of Shuichi’s back. 

“This dream could be real.”

Kokichi could make it real. 

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

The next morning it was announced that ten days were over, and that no one had failed the first round. Now all they had to do was… the exact same thing again, but with someone else. 

Kokichi took his chance to enact his plan, jumping in front of Shuichi who was clearly trying to get to Kaito instead. 

“A-ah! Ouma-kun… hi.” Kokichi noted uncomfortable posture, although Shuichi always seemed uncomfortable. He took a step back. 

“Saihara-chan!” he cheered, hands behind his back. He wished Shuichi didn’t hide those pretty eyes, he always had to angle himself just for a glimpse of them under the brim of his cap. “Go on a date with me!”

Shuichi lifted a hand to his chin. He was thinking it over then, but that was alright, Shuichi had trouble saying no. His plan would still work. “Right now?” he asked.

“Ye-ap!”

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt…” Shuichi gave him a kind smile, “Would you like to go to the-”

“Let’s go to the library!”

“Huh? The library?” Shuichi was now looking down at him, seeming confused, “How come? I thought you would prefer something like the game room or the AV room.”

‘Because it’s not about me, silly.’ Kokichi’s smile was too innocent to ignore, “Wow wow, how cruel, does my beloved Saihara-chan think I’m too brain dead to enjoy reading?”

“Ah..! That wasn’t what I-”

He grabbed onto the end of Shuichi’s sleeve, “C’mon, to the library! You’re so damn slow, Saihara-chan!”

“Okay, Ouma-kun, I’m coming, just slow down..!”

You know, Kokichi suspected that despite being a detective, Shuichi wasn’t used to things being energetic. And while normally that would mean he’d get annoyed easily at Kokichi’s antics… it also meant that they would tire him out faster too. The rapid talking, the lies that somehow kept tricking Shuichi at first, the bouncing around, the dragging. By the time they’d stepped through the library doors Shuichi already looked ready to go back to his dorm. 

There weren’t many places to sit down in the library, so Shuichi immediately went for the table on the left of the entrance. Kokichi redirected him to the back right corner instead, tucking themselves down on the floor and leaning back against the bookshelves. 

“Ah… is there any reason we’re sitting on the floor?” he seemed genuinely curious, not upset.

Kokichi’s smile grew sly, “Isn’t it more romantic here?”

Shuichi tugged the brim of his cap down, but Kokichi could see his blush through his exposed ear. “M… mm” was all he could get out. 

“Do you have any recommendations, Saihara-chan? You must know some good mysteries after all, Mr. Detective.”

Shuichi was looking down at his hands, which were placed in his lap. But Kokichi could tell he wasn’t disinterested, just awkward. “Not really… I used to enjoy mystery novels quite a lot but… after becoming a detective, I stopped reading them.”

“Ooooh, got too boring for an experienced veteran then?”

“Uhm… not exactly…” So Shuichi didn’t like being a detective, then. Kokichi made a mental note of that. 

“But,” Shuichi continued, “Back at home, we really only owned mystery novels. So unless I was at the library I would read them out of boredom.”

“Hmmm, so you’re the type to finish a book even if it sucks.”

“Haha, well, you should give it a good chance, right?”

“If a book sucks, it sucks.”

Shuichi’s laugh was gentle, yet overpoweringly sweet. 

“So you’re a huuuuge geek then, have you read any books here yet?”

Shuichi shook his head, gesturing to the impressive mess around them, “It’s too much to search through… and everything is so disorganized. I haven’t really gotten a chance to try and choose.” So he was the type to become indecisive with a lot of options, then. 

“Plus,” He picked a book up from the pile just sitting next to them, and flipped open to a random page. He turned the book to Kokichi, revealing strange organic patterns cut away into the pages of the book; they seemed to run deep too. Not to mention the crusty yellowness to them that left the pages crunchy and wrinkly. The words that weren’t cut out of the book from the holes were faded, smeared, and difficult to read. There was a musty, moldy smell that hit Kokichi’s face as it wafted off the book, likely coming from the strange spots clinging to the cover and edges of the book. “These books have been left here for a long time, they’re waterlogged from mold and moisture, and have bad damage from insects eating the pages. So they’re essentially unreadable.”

Kokichi stuck his tongue out in disgust, imagining gross bugs crawling inside the books near them. It would sure make Gonta happy, though.

“Well, luckily for you, not all the books are damaged!”

Shuichi’s intrigue was instant, enough so that he didn’t hide his eyes as well as he normally does. “Really?”

“Look at what I found!” Kokichi pulled out two books from the shelf, he’d put them there earlier just for this moment. “Maybe I just have Ultimate Luck, I stumbled on these completely by accident. Ah, but, that’s a lie.”

Shuichi took the book from his hands, turning through the pages with a careful hand. Making sure it really was readable, “This is incredible, Ouma-kun! How did you find this?”

“I had to kill Kiiboy for it, just so Monokuma would owe me a favor for the entertainment! It was brutal too. Lots of sparks.”

“That’s… a lie, right?”

“Who knows~”

Once Kokichi noticed Shuichi’s eyes were scanning the pages of the book he fell into silence. Kokichi sagged down further against the bookcase, arm just barely brushing against Shuichi’s. He opened his own book, but truth be told that was just a lie. He didn’t read a single page, instead he just occasionally turned one so that Shuichi would think he was enjoying their little reading circle. Kokichi’s plan was good. Genius even. He deserved every right to brag. The library was the perfect place to get Shuichi’s guard down. Around the others, things were a constant flurry of chaos. But here it was quiet, peaceful, and smelled like old books. Top that off with making him read the most boring, uneventful book he could find? Shuichi was a goner. 

Kokichi flipped another page in his book, but his eyes were focused on Shuichi’s. Shuichi’s face was alert, but underneath his eyes were dark circles that looked honestly draining. No wonder he was so tired he fantasized about rest. Kokichi wondered if something made it difficult for him to fall asleep. A restless sleeper? A ghost in his dreams? A painful past? Maybe Kokichi was just projecting, maybe he was just having trouble adjusting to their new day to day schedule. Well, here in the library by Kokichi’s side it seemed to be easier to sleep. Because after a while his eyes became sleepier and sleepier. Kokichi shifted himself so that he was leaning further against Shuichi’s arm. Shuichi, too tired to be embarrassed or think it through, dropped his head down to rest on Kokichi. Before long he stopped turning pages, then his hands loosened around the book, then Kokichi heard the relaxed breaths of someone finally getting some well deserved rest. 

“You’re too easy, Saihara-chan.” he whispered. 

Soon Kokichi would get up and ask Gonta to carry Shuichi to his bed. Then he would make sure he was comfortable, and that no one would interrupt his rest. But until then… it didn’t hurt to enjoy this moment.

[zeppelin-and-unicorns]

Fanfic recommendations part four: Missing scenes/Hidden moments

Stories with missing moments from our favorite couple. They are all canon compliant of sorts.

Bad Ass by AdriDee

How Jackie and Hyde are such badasses...especially when it comes about each other. 2 missing scenes between episodes Trampled Under Foot and You Shook Me also, some missing scenes beforeduringafter episode Christmas from season 6.

Complete.

18k words, 7 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Daydreams: Missing Scenes by Bunny1

Missing scenes from some episodes. They’re all very well-written and in character.

There is a post-season 8 chapter, a fix-it, and it’s real cute.

13k words, 25 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Devil’s in the Details by scorpiosun

A series of missing moments - one for every episode of season 5. Because we deserved to see more of Jackie and Hyde behind the scenes.

This story is a WIP.

22k words, 7 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Also Available on AO3

Dolled Up Zen by Weasley’s Revenge

Summer is hot. That's part of the reason she loves it. And the wicked things he can do to her skin with an ice cube. That's definitely an added bonus.

3k words, 3 chapters.

Rated M. Very M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

It Must Be Love by That-Maria-Girl

What happened after the Valentine’s dance.

4k words, 2 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Summer Lovin’ by scorpiosun

Donna and Kelso run to California, leaving behind 4 of their friends...two of which form a bond no one saw coming. Not even themselves. But that doesn't stop them from making the most of it. The story of how Hyde and Jackie got together over the summer between seasons 4 and 5.

79k words, 13 chapters

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Also Available on AO3

Summer The Price is Right by holograma309

The story we didn't get to see: how Jackie and Hyde began dating that summer everyone was in California. Takes place between seasons 4 and 5. Doesn't ignore their earlier storyline. Just trying to fill in the blanks for my favorite couple.

13k words, 8 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

The Love I Need by myboygeorge

Everyone knows when Jackie and Hyde first hooked up. But when did they become lovers? Set as an extension of Season 5's 'Over the Hills and Far Away'.

3k words, 3 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

The Renewal by yabookreader96

Kelso and Donna are away in California. Eric spends his days sleeping in a stupor of self-loathing and depression. Fez meets a new foe, named Fenton. This leaves Steven Hyde and Jackie Burkhart together all summer in the Forman basement. One of many things Jackie and Hyde fans have never gotten is a story for what led up to that fateful kiss on that seemingly normal day. Well...

This story is complete.

71k words, 18 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

One-shots:

Absolutely Better than Pot by galnkay

Steven Hyde has never been one to use the dreaded 'L' word, but he might have to to win her back. Sleeping with nurses and losing your girl can really bring you to your lowest point.

Angsty, but very well written.

1k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

body language by j. alfred prufrock

Of course, it helped that Hyde didn’t pull his hand away and sort of let it rest there with hers.

Jackie and Hyde in the POV of a random person from school.

999 words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Coming Back Around by EnchantedWorlds

"But right now, Jackie really wanted to tell him. Not, that he ever said it back. Apart from that one time in Donna's bedroom, that Jackie would rather not think about, except to remind herself that Steven did love her." [Jackie, Hyde and words that are exchanged once Fez leaves them alone in the basement in 'Down the Road Apiece.']

1k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Country Music by LucyLenn96

After Hyde's disastrous initial meeting with his biological father, Jackie spends some time trying to cheer him up. In the process, she learns something she never knew about him, and he is reminded of just how deep Jackie's affection for him is.

2k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Fireworks and Shooting Stars by Raven33

Takes place right after “I Can’t Quit You, Baby”. Jackie deals with life being complicated. Fluffy as hell.

2k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Five Scenes from Season Five (and one that’s mine) by TeaTimeAllOverTown

Five moments from Jackie and Hyde's relationship in season 5 that we didn't get to see - and one with a new twist on the season's ending.

I know, not 100% canon compliant but... It’s cute and fluffy and everyone should read this.

10k words.

Rated G.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Four Love Confessions Jackie Never Heard by j. alfred prufrock

Or, four times Steven Hyde almost told Jackie Burkhart that he loved her and the one time he did.

2k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Heal This Hurt by kaitiebee89

A flashback of the night Hyde found out Jackie's mother still wasn't home.

5k words.

Rated T. 

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Jekyll and Hyde by Mistiec

The students at Point Place High knew senior year meant changes. They just weren't prepared for how many there actually would be.

6k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Never Gonna be Alone by letmefallasleep

Hyde's thoughts as Jackie lays asleep in his arms after her dad gets arrested, and her mother abandons her. Why does the pygmy sized brunette mean so much to him? Implied past abuse and neglect.

1k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Of Friendship anf Familiarity by zpplnchick

Jackie's hanging out in the basement with the gang and looks around with a sense of contentment. Set shortly after 6x08. Short and fluffy oneshot.

2k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, background Eric/Donna

Picking Battles by nannygirl

In "The Acid Queen" Kitty advises Jackie about 'picking battles' and both Kitty and Jackie end up sending Red and Hyde out to buy some magazines. When Red and Hyde end up meeting at the drugstore, Red has some of his own relationship advice to pass on to Hyde.

3k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Red/Kitty

Picking Petals by scorpiosun

Set during the course of season 6. After Jackie and Hyde get back together, things go relatively smooth for them. And they're happy - mostly. But Jackie can't stop thinking about whether or not Steven really meant it when he said he loved her. And if he did, will he ever say it again? These glimpses into their relationship show her moments of clarity, doubt, and finally, closure.

5k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Also Available on AO3

Plan G From Point Place by c00kiefic

Jackie has urges… Takes place during “I’m Free”.

6k words.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Seven Scenes from Season Seven by TeaTimeAllOverTown

Seven missing scenes from Season Seven. Part 4 of my missing scenes series.

8k words.

Rated G.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Six Scenes from Season Six by TeaTimeAllOverTown

Six Jackie and Hyde scenes from season 6 - filling in their gaps. Canon compliant. A continuation of my missing scenes series.

6k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Six Scenes from Summer by TeaTimeAllOverTown

A collection of Jackie and Hyde scenes from season 4.5 - the ones we never got to see.

9k words.

Rated G.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Summer Fling by mrs.salvatore39

What happened before 'what really happened'. Set during the summer after Kelso and Donna leave for California. Prior 5x02

4k words.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Surprise by SerenitySparrow

Set during the episode when Jackie bakes Hyde some cookies and tries to cheer him up after they learn about Kelso and Angie.

2k words.

Rated M, very M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

The Speech by yabookreader96

When Jackie's friends all blow off her graduation party, she decides that maybe they're not her real friends after all. So when a week passes with no sign of Jackie, they all begin to wonder if they've lost her for good this time. Can amends be made?

1k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

That Whole Sleeping Over Thing by KendraA

Jackie wasn’t letting Hyde pretend to fall asleep before she snuck over." Post-'The Acid Queen' fluff.

4k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Also Available on AO3

Wish You Were Here by zpplnchick

How Hyde may have found out about Jackie's parents abandoning her, and moments following. Set during Season 5, sometime after 5x16.

4k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Without a Friend by EnchantedWorlds

"It's good. Just because it's Jackie. It wouldn't be good, if it wasn't her. It's so fucking good. So of course, it only stands to reason, that he completely fucking torpedoes it." Jackie makes a habit of visiting Hyde at the hotel, when he's at work. Until she doesn't.

2k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

I believe this is all. Feel free to reply to this post if you think I left out a good story!

I’ll repeat this at the end of every single post (seriously, I literally copy and paste this every single time): Speaking as someone who writes, it would be really cool if you guys decide to leave a review (or a comment, if the story is on AO3) in the stories you read, especially the unfinished ones. It really motivates the authors, and receiving a compliment is always a mood lifter. I’ve seen some authors updating stories after years because of nice reviews, so… yeah, this is just an idea.

The next category is probably one of the biggest ones so far: Alternative Universe (canon divergence). Will post it soon!

[himikiyo]

in saecula saeculorum // himikiyo week day 3

Himikiyo Week Day 3: Vice + Virtue

"If you’re so against the idea of people getting hurt, you should have thought twice before summoning a demon."

Read on AO3, DRA, or under the cut.

Demons did not exist in the modern world. That was common sense, accepted by nearly everyone save fringe conspiracy theorists and fanatics of all types. Those who would believe in something so patently unscientific, so laughable, would be deemed worthy of ridicule themselves. There was no use for the supernatural when humans had triumphed over the natural world itself.

That was the party line, anyway. It was taught to children in schools, passed on in social interactions and media. Even those curious enough to seek out old tomes and uncover the stories within were motivated to dismiss them as legends. Stories of such things were fascinating, but they were from a less educated time. When people didn’t understand the world around them, they were motivated to devise stories of evil beings to explain their misfortunes.

None of it was real. Humanity’s biggest danger was itself.

Locked in a dusty church basement, one girl felt differently.

“Angie hopes you find the answers you seek, Himiko-chan! Remember though, Kami-sama might just smite you down if you aren’t careful! Even as powerful as he is, he doesn’t take threats lightly.” Setting down a small stack of books and clapping her hands together to brush off the dust, Angie took a step back towards the door. “Oh, and lock up when you’re done, okay? Technically Angie isn’t supposed to leave anyone alone here.”

“Yeah, got it. I’ll be sure to take care of everything.”

“In that case, good night!”

Just like that, she was gone. Himiko stayed where she was and waited until the patter of Angie’s footsteps faded out entirely, leaving only silence behind. It was a little creepy alone in a church at night, she had to admit. Best friend or not, Angie’s religious devotion was unnerving even in the daylight. Himiko was more interested in other aspects of the arcane. Things that wouldn’t be taken so lightly if discovered. For the experiments she wanted to perform, the church basement was safer than her apartment in more ways than one.

Summoning a demon was risky at best.

She already had the proper page marked. The candles were lit. The offerings were nearly ready. The demon — whose name in the book was an illegible scrawl, written in a language Himiko had never seen before — would appear or they wouldn’t. Her years of study had convinced her that these creatures were out there, lurking beyond the boundaries of normal human perception, but if she was wrong, this would be the time for that to be proven too.

Her hand trembled as she flicked the light switch off, plunging the room into dim candlelight.

The shakiness made it more difficult to draw blood, scarlet droplets scattering onto the page she was reading from as much as into the bowl they were meant for.

This was an academic experiment, yes, but it was a deeper part of her that would be devastated if it failed. A part of her that thought someone non-human might provide the kind of companionship and understanding she’d always lacked. Angie was sweet, but she couldn’t honestly say they saw eye to eye.

She carried on with the ritual, occasionally glancing around the darkened room to look for any changes. Nothing.

“Maybe...this isn’t going to work,” Himiko said softly to herself, gaze dropping to her own bloodied arm. “Maybe everyone’s right. If demons exist, we don’t really know how to summon them. Not anymore. They aren’t coming.”

Visually, not a single thing changed after she said that. She was alone. From the emptiness, though, an unknown voice made itself heard.

“Not coming? But I am already here. You humans really are blind.” A whispery chuckle followed those words, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

“What? Who said that?” She turned, fumbling for the lights.

“Yumeno Himiko, I have answered your call. It’s been many years since a mortal last pulled me from the depths, but I am, as always, delighted to serve.” Though the voice was disembodied, not providing any visual clues to help her, she could clearly imagine an evil, toothy grin, like a monster waiting for its prey.

Ignoring the stinging pain still shooting up her arm from the ceremonial cut, she finally slammed her hand against the light switch, bathing the room in brightness. The sudden change made her eyes water, but even before she adjusted, she could tell it did nothing to illuminate her new companion’s location.

“Further introductions are in order, aren’t they?” the voice continued. “Demons’ true names tend to be a struggle for such limited creatures to pronounce, so I took the liberty of selecting a human name for myself a few centuries ago. I am Shinguuji Korekiyo.”

Taking a few steps over to the counter, Himiko grabbed the bandage she’d prepared and pressed it to her arm.

“Um, that’s nice, but...would you mind being...visible, Shinguuji-sama?” she asked meekly, being as polite and deferental as she possibly could. It was beginning to occur to her that she might be in over her head.

“Ah. Yes.” Just like that, she was suddenly aware of a presence behind her. Before she could turn to look, she could feel something brushing against the back of her neck. Someone’s nails? They felt sharper than that though, more like claws. A shiver running down her spine, Himiko tensed, feeling unnaturally warm fingertips graze along her pulse point. The heat wasn’t only coming from their hand though. It seemed to radiate from their entire body, like she was standing in front of a fire. Like if she leaned just a little closer, it might devour her.

After a moment, the hand retreated. She turned, and in the half second it took, they were no longer right behind her. Instead, she saw a figure leaning almost lazily against the opposite wall. For the most part, they appeared human. Lanky and incredibly tall, the way they held themself betrayed strength far beyond what their build might suggest. The mask covering most of their face made it impossible to know whether the smile she imagined was truly present, but the sparkle in their eyes suggested it might well be.

“Thank...you...” she croaked, not wanting to say anything that might make this demon — because yes, it was abundantly clear they were one, appearances aside — upset with her.

“Humans can be broken so easily,” Shinguuji mused. “Both physically and mentally. I’d almost forgotten how entertaining it is. Now, tell me, what is it you summoned me for?”

“To prove I could, I guess. That was part of it, anyway. And to learn from you. Studying magic on my own isn’t the same as having a master. And the third reason, I guess, is just...companionship.” Arm nicely wrapped now, she had no excuse to look anywhere but at them, though her face was burning with embarrassment.

“Study? Well, perhaps you’re smarter than you seem choosing me then. I’m partial to research myself. I do hope we can have some fun outside the classroom too, however.” Himiko knew without a doubt then, mask or not. They were definitely grinning, almost leering.

“What kind of fun do you mean?”

Moving closer again, they replied, “Shall we kill together? There must be people you want gone, yes? I can make quick work of them.”

That sent a chill down her spine, canceling out the pleasant remnants of warmth almost immediately. She was no idiot, of course. She understood that demons were violent by nature. But she didn’t call them for anything like that. They...couldn’t insist that she help them get that kind of ‘fun,’ could they?

“What? No. I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she said, pretending she couldn’t hear her own voice shaking. “Sure, there’s people I don’t get along with, but killing? And...besides, should you really be saying things like that in a church?” Himiko didn’t believe, especially not in Angie’s god, but it seemed as good an excuse as any.

“I don’t fear gods,” Shinguuji said dismissively. “They have no power over me. If you’re so against the idea of people getting hurt, you should have thought twice before summoning a demon. My kind isn’t meant to linger in the mortal world for long without reason, and it’s been so many years since I was last given a chance to...sate my appetite.”

“No, we can’t,” she repeated. She could hear the glee in their voice, like they were enjoying not only the prospect of murder, but the experience of winding her up over it. She was probably giving them exactly what they wanted, but she couldn’t help it.

“Well, if you’re so steadfast in your beliefs...I could always kill you instead, yes? We signed no formal contract. I’m under no obligation to keep you safe.”

In that moment, she was acutely aware of everything around her. The occasional flicker and buzz of the fluorescent lights, the musty basement smell of the air, and more than anything, the imposing presence across from her. If they really wanted to kill her, there would be nothing stopping them. But they were just watching her — beautiful, dangerous, and all too satisfied with themself.

Shinguuji laughed, closing the remaining distance between them. A hand cupped her chin, gently guiding her to meet their eyes. They were a brighter, more intense amber than she’d ever seen in a human being.

“Flattering me to keep yourself alive? Well well, that’s one way to go about it. I’m pleased to hear that you find me so beautiful.”

“I didn’t say that!” Their grip, if it could even be called that, was exceedingly light. It wouldn’t be remotely difficult to pull away and avert her eyes, but she didn’t. She was captivated.

“You didn’t need to. You thought about it. So then, what will it be? I have no real need to kill you, not when I can gain energy from you in other ways. And you’re so entertaining besides. If you’d simply allow me to possess you, you would have access to power beyond your wildest dreams.”

“And what’s the catch? There’s no way something that lets you...feed on my energy doesn’t have any negatives.” She chose not to comment on just how close they were now. The warmth of a lithe, not quite human body pressed against her own was oddly comforting.

“There is no catch. However, if it would make you feel better, I’d be willing to write up a formal contract.”

“I’ll look at it then,” she said grudgingly, one of her own arms starting to slip around them in return. “But before that, no weird possession or mind control or anything. And no murder.”

“Mm, I’ll make you fall in love with it yet. Perhaps when we seal our contract with a kiss?”

“We don’t need to do that.”

Shinguuji laughed, once again backing off from the overly intimate invasion of her personal space. “Indeed we don’t. But don’t let it be said that I didn’t offer.”

“Let’s just go home for now. People won’t notice that you’re not human, will they?” Maybe, just maybe, she’d end up taking them up on it.

[m-y-fandoms]

Danganronpa V3 characters Most to Least likely:

to take their S/O’s side during a scrum debate, knowing their S/O is lying

Sort of an imagine + most to least likely list due to my explanation of each scenario. Warning: spoilers for the entire game throughout.

-Mod Kokichi

Kokichi Ouma - Once he’s in love with you, he’s ride or die to the point that he doesn’t care if he or the others die for you. Plus, lying at the scrum debate and winning doesn’t technically mean the trial goes poorly or that his S/O is the culprit, it’s just a step to find more evidence and weed out traitors, and that’s just how he would justify it to himself. Plus, it’s just waaaaay more fun to spice up the trial with your lies~

Kaito Momota - He chose to love you, right? So he has to believe in you. You must have a good reason for lying, he thinks, but even if you don’t, some people are just worth dying for.

Tenko Chabashira - A similar mindset to Kaito. She will trust her S/O, believing that there’s no way you could be malicious, and wanting to believe your true heart is pure to the very end. Even if she’s not confident with her decision to support you, she’s gonna yell and fight like she is.

Kaede Akamatsu - She wouldn’t choose an S/O who would lie to save themselves and let everyone else die, so if you’re lying, it must be for a good reason.

Shuichi Saihara - A mix of Kaede and Kaito’s reasoning, he believes that he chose a good person to love, and believes in your intellect. You must be lying to twist the trial in a positive way. He did point out Kaede’s lie in the first trial reluctantly, but he just had a mild crush on her...he LOVES you, and whereas Kaede asked him to expose her lie, you were clearly wanting him on your side. He just couldn’t turn against you.

Ryoma Hoshi - He wouldn’t lie for a friend or aquaintence in a trial, being a very blunt and honest guy, but if the only person in this world who gave him a reason to live and loves him needs him on their side, you’re damn right he’s going to lie for them.

Rantarou Amami - Amami isn’t a selfish guy. He’s loved many people in his life: siblings, parents, friends, previous lovers. He knows what it means to sacrifice and even though he is the Ultimate Survivor, it was because he’s good at it, not necessarily for selfish reasons. If his little sister had been throw in this killing game or the previous one he was in, he would die for her in an instant, an he would die for you. So...he trusts you. And after a bit of a shocked expression and wondering what you’re up to, he would join in and lie with you, and he’s so confident and smooth that he might just fool the majority of your classmates.

Korekiyo Shinguji - Make no mistake, Kiyo has no trouble lying on his own behalf...but for others, no. He would be very conflcited at first, even trying, subtly and gracefully, to get you to tell the truth and sweating over your lies in the trial, because deep down, he can be a very selfish person. No one has ever wanted him in their lives and he’s a loner, so self-preservation always came first. Why stick his neck out or care about people who bully/ostracize/judge him? Why see other humans as anything other than objects of beauty, precious but ultimately not as valuable as his own life, just as an artifact would be. But...you didn’t look at him like that, like he was a creep or inquire about his mask and habits. He had fallen in love with you, realizing his relationship with his sister growing up was something traumatic and not normal, very much forced on his young mind. He had to...he had to lie for you.

Tsumugi Shirogane - As the mastermind, she can easily tell where the trial is headed and can probably make Monokuma say some stupid reason or new rule for getting you out of your lies later on, so she’s willing to lie for you in the debate, putting on her innocent and naive facade, just with a new layer of lovesick.

Miu Iruma - This would go one of two ways. 1. She genuinely doesn’t know you’re lying and sides with you, barking at your opponents in your defense, or 2. She knows you’re lying and the anger behind her words thrown at your opponents is half for them for accusing you, and half for you for being a dumbass, lying little bitch who now has dragged her into this. If you both survived this trial, she would chew you out later.

Himiko Yumeno - She doesn’t want to die, but as seen in-game, she quickly loses heart when it comes to losing people she loves or being pressured. She would hesitantly tell you to stop lying and that she trusted you, so how could you act like this, but would slowly lose the will to fight and want to take your side because she loves you, even going as far as to say something like: “Nyeh...I know S/O is lying, b-but, but I’m gonna take their side until the very end, and I’m not gonna vote for them. I...I just can’t,” while trembling softly. And shame on you for making her feel that way.

Maki Harukawa - She wouldn’t associate herself with, much less date someone who lies for the wrong reasons. She would lie for you if she felt it was necessary or for the greater good or moving the trial in the right direction, but would avoid voicing her opinion in the trial altogether unless her hand is forced. Maki is more likely to call out your bullshit bluntly and in a monotone voice, before forcing you to tell the truth to the others and own up to what you did. If you were only lying to find evidence or save face, she wouldn’t even bring it up after the trial, but if your lie was to cover for you killing someone, she would close her eyes during your execution and silently pretend it didn’t hurt as much as it did, crying later when absolutely no one could see her. They would be tears of grief over losing her one true love, and tears of anger at your selfishness and her stupidity in choosing to love you.

Angie Yonaga - “Atua says it’s alwaaaays better to speak the truth!” She says while posing her hands in a praying position. You saw how she threw Himiko under the bus in the second trial, there was no way she was lying for you or dying for your stupid lie. If it was a lie to keep the trail moving, oh well, she exposed you. If you lied and died as the culprit, oh well, it is better to be with Atua anyway, and she can find other people to be around easily. Additionally, I really see Angie as aromantic or averse to real romantic relationships. I think she would see her S/O as someone who cares about her and Atua, and is easy to manipulate, but who she admits she likes spending time with more than others. Still not lying or dying for you though.

Gonta Gokuhara - the key word here is knowing his S/O is lying. If he is convinced you’re not lying even when you are, he will take your side until convinced otherwise by his friends. He loves you so very much, but gentleman don’t lie, and he believes that his S/O should always tell the truth. “S-S/O, telling lies only hurt yourself and others. Gonta knows you are good person. Only bad people lie!” He would be heartbroken that you want him to take your side and expect him to lie, and has a very the-truth-shall-set-you-free mindset. Plus, I don’t think Gonta would think so far ahead as to see that the truth may get his beloved killed. He’s thinking of the here and now, this particular conversation. And you shouldn’t be lying to your friends.

Kirumi Tojo - If Kirumi ever let herself get close enough to you to fall in love, she would still set strict boundaries for herself, and have a very professional/master and maid type relationship with you. She would comfort you more and maybe blush at your contact or flirty advances but not reciprocate too much becasue there is a part of her that keeps every relationship in her life at a arm’s length. She won’t let herself truly love. No one can break down her wall, for that’s what makes her perfect to serve unconditionally. When realizing you’re lying, because oh, she definitely would, she would close her eyes, a small frown on her face. She’s disappointed in you, but reminds herself again why she doesn’t get close to people. She sighs, exposing your lies calmly to the others with phrases a little less cold than usual, such as: “I’m sorry, S/O, but that’s not the complete truth and I can’t allow it.”

Kiibo - Simply put, no matter his feelings toward you, Kiibo knows that in this trial, lying could lead to everyone dying. A handful of friends and himself dying for a liar is just not fair. He wouldn’t lie with or for you. In the best case scenario inside his careful and analytical mind, you are exposed for lying and it was a petty lie or doesn’t mean you’re the culprit. I the worst case scenario, it leads to your death. And while he feels the closest feeling to human love he has ever felt for you, he can’t let a bunch of innocent friends die for your lie. He would miss you, and be very depressed about losing you and maybe never try to have a relationship like this again, but his decision is what was ethically and morally right.

[thepancakeboi]

An Unexpected Growth Spurt

So it barely took five minutes before this idea by @hetyra sent me down the rabbit hole of getting ideas and hyperfocusing on it rather than my current stuff. Whoops? No regrets. These types of fun reactions, where Ren is being such a goddamn menace towards Goro, are among my favorite to write. I will disclose this right now: I know very little about the storyline of Persona 5 Strikers outside of “sequel set in the summer after Persona 5 events″. As a result, it’s only there as a timing thing and a reference, but it’s fine. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this writing that gave me dopamine and serotonin in spades!

01/01/2018, 10:39 AM > Ren: Meiji Shrine it is! I can’t wait to see you.

I keep looking at that last text over and over as I stand here by the torii, awaiting Ren’s arrival. It’s been over a year since I last saw him. I’m lucky I was even able to get in touch with him, but...was coming here a mistake?

I’m not the type to get nervous, but I never thought I would see him again. With everything that happened between us, he shouldn’t even want to meet up with me. That and he probably assumed I was dead. The last time I saw him was in the engine room of Shido’s Palace. That place should have been my grave, yet somehow I had survived. I hadn’t told anyone. Truth be told, I hadn’t wanted anyone to know I was alive.

I...simply wanted to disappear.

Even now, I have the urge to leave before I can potentially reunite with Ren. Whatever had come over me last night, in that spur of the moment decision to text Ren after a year of silence, is gone. This whole idea is a mistake. He has much better ways to spend his time than wasting it on me. He’s probably been with his precious friends doing who knows what. There’s no way he needs someone like me in his life. He’s got all the people he could ever want. That’s it. I’m leaving now, before-

“Goro? Is that you?”

I freeze. His voice is a little deeper than I remember, but I would know it anywhere. I turn around, my heart leaping in my chest at seeing Ren. Although he’s not wearing his glasses this time, he hasn’t changed a bit. Even his hair is as unkempt as ever. It’s almost like I went back in time, to days where I wasn’t his (attempted) murderer. There are so many things I want to say, but all I can manage is a simple, “Hey, Ren.”

And he grins. Yet another thing that hasn’t changed: that beautiful smile. I can tell he’s barely stopping himself from running and pulling me into a hug as he approaches. I’m thankful for his restraint. There’s no telling what my reaction would have been. “Hi, Akeppi.”

I huff, shaking my head. “I was hoping you forgot that damn nickname.” And me as well, some small part of me silently adds.

“You know you like it.” Smug as ever, the menace. “I missed you. Where have you been? You never told me.”

Straight to the point, I see. I had very purposefully avoided the dogged questions about how I was alive or where I’d been. It didn’t seem like the type of thing to discuss through instant messages. This needed to be a face-to-face conversation. “I was at a rehab center, believe it or not.”

“You were?”

Nodding, I force myself to continue. He deserves to know what happened. “It’s outside of Tokyo...and it’s where my mother would go. I went there on Christmas Eve without an appointment, but they accepted me anyway. The only time I had left between then and now was when I heard word that you were being detained.”

“Oh?”

“I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing. After all, you did change Shido’s heart for me. So, I helped your friends track down the woman in your assault case.”

“Wait, did they know you were alive and didn’t tell me?”

“No, nothing like that,” I reassure him, letting Ren know that his friends hadn’t kept my survival a secret from him. “I gave them what information I could find, anonymously, of course. They probably wouldn’t have accepted it if they knew who it came from.”

“Come on, give them a little more credit than that.”

I don’t think I can, especially when two of my victims had been Futaba Sakura’s mother and Haru Okumura’s father. “Either way, what about you? You’re a third-year now, yes?”

“Yeah. A lot’s happened since...” He stops for a moment. Something tells me the reason he stopped isn’t pleasant. Could it be he was about to say “since our last fight”, or something of that caliber? He quickly snaps out of it, though, beaming once again as he continues. “Oh, I saved Christmas by summoning satan to shoot god in the face!”

If he were any other person, I might have figured him insane. Even so, I can’t hide my surprise as I stammer, “You...what?”

“We went into the depths of Mementos to find its treasure. Never want to go there again. And then we fought the holy grail, which was really a god who was controlling everyone. I summoned this huge Persona, Satanael, and we shot god in the face!”

I chuckle at that. It all sounds so impossible, yet anything’s possible in the Metaverse. “If only I could have seen such a sight.” Upon seeing Ren’s melancholy look, I quickly add, “What else happened after that?”

“I went back home in March.” He doesn’t seem too thrilled about that detail. I know he preferred living at Leblanc over with his own parents, who never seemed to contact him while he was on probation. “And then I came back for summer vacation with the rest of the Phantom Thieves. But then the Metaverse came back, and these places called Jails were showing up, and...well, it’s a long story.”

“Perhaps for another time. Your life certainly has been interesting.”

“I wish you could’ve been there, but I’m happy you’re still alive. I...didn’t know what happened to you. Everyone else thought you were dead, but I just couldn’t believe it. I kept hoping that you weren’t. I really did miss you, Goro.” And I believe it, somehow.

“I apologize for not contacting you until yesterday. I know I should have. I cannot imagine what you must have gone through, and-”

“It’s okay!” he replies, a little too quickly. It makes me wonder how he handled my supposed death. I won’t pry. If he wants to tell me one day, it’ll be when he wants. He finally pulls me into the hug he’s likely been waiting for this whole time, gently running his fingers through my hair. “Your hair’s shorter than before.”

“Is that a problem?” I know it’s only a simple observation, but I can’t help but assume he doesn’t like it.

“No. I just noticed. That’s all. You look cute with short hair.”

“I’m not cute,” I immediately retort.

“Are too.”

“Well, you haven’t changed a-” I pause. Some small detail is pulling at my attention, but what is it? “Wait a minute. Did you...?”

“Did I what?” he asks, clearly as confused as I am.

I move out of his embrace to back up a few steps, looking at his footwear. He isn’t wearing heels, which means... “Have you...grown since we last saw each other?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, a little. Why?”

“How much?”

“I dunno, five centimeters?”

“Damnit,” I hiss. “Who said you were allowed to have a growth spurt!?”

Clarity lights up his face as he realizes the reason for my irritable reaction. “Oh, right. You hated when I was taller as Joker. Does it bother you that I’m taller than you now?”

“Shut up.”

He laughs. “I love it. It’s nice seeing you as the smaller one.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

He fake gasps. “He swore! Are you angy, my adorable little detective?” he asks, his voice sounding all cutesy. Goddamn menace.

“What do you think!?”

He is obviously smug that he’s now taller than me by two centimeters. His grin only widens as he pats my head. I try to smack his hand away, but he moves it away before I can. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Even more so since I’m taller than you.”

“Infuriating as ever,” I snarl, my patience running thin. He’s being so cocky that I want to fucking strangle him. “I should wear heels just to be the taller one.”

“I don’t think you could.”

“Is that a challenge, Ren?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs, but I see right through the gesture. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “You tell me, detective. Is it a challenge?”

“I think it is, and I don’t intend to lose. I can and will wear heels. Watch me.”

“Even if you did, I could just wear heels as well,” he replies with a shit-eating grin to match his tone, “and run in them, too.”

I sigh in frustration, crossing my arms. I hate that I know he’s right. The Metaverse is enough indication of that. “You little shit.”

“You’re the little one, not me.”

“Shut up, Ren.”

“Make me,” he says as he gets right in my face, smirking as I instinctively lean back. “You could always kiss me into silence.”

There’s no hiding my flushed reaction to his suggestion. “You fucking wish, you idiot,” I snap, trying to ignore just how hot my face feels.

“Yeah, I do, my little tsundere pancake.”

Oh, of course, he had to mention the pancakes. Of fucking course. “I hate you so much.”

“I still don’t believe you. We both know that’s a lie.”

“Damn you and your two centimeters,” I say right before I recklessly kiss him on the lips.

I can see the ever so slight surprise on Ren’s face. He hides it well. His mirth at the unexpected kiss is clear as he asks, “Now, was that really so bad?”

“Yes.” No.

“Why’d you do it, then?”

“To get you to shut up.” I’ve been wanting to for a while now.

“Sure, sure,” he laughs. “Hey, would you want to get some lunch together? My treat.”

I’m glad he asked first. Truth be told, I wanted an excuse to spend more time with him. I’ve missed Ren more than I care to admit. “Sounds delightful. You can choose the location, but I’m paying.”

“Hey, no. I’m buying lunch, and you can’t stop me.”

“I’m paying, and that’s final.”

“Okay, how about we leave it up to chance? Whoever ends up with the bill pays. Deal?”

“Very well. You have a deal.” I’m still not letting him pay, though, even if it means resorting to more...underhanded methods.

He takes my hand in his, the small gesture of affection almost causing me to tear up. No one’s cared about me like Ren has. I don’t deserve it, but I doubt arguing that with him would get anywhere. It would be fruitless. All I can hope is that he’ll be happy around me.

And, for the first time in a year...I smile.