#so angy and rude to so gentle and soft...

[kenaigamesgallantly]

The Resident Evil Within (Stefano Valentini/Donna and Angie Beneviento Crossover)

So @miranightfall wrote Donna and Stefano’s dynamic, and I decided to write Stefano and Angie’s dynamic! Enjoy lol.

“Watcha doooiiinnggg?” The high-pitched, sing-song voice of the doll pierced Stefano’s eardrums and he winced, taking a deep breath to calm himself before he responded to her.

“I’m sewing together what’s to be my newest creation. She will be magnificent, I’m sure of it.” Stefano winced in pain as Angie used his leg, and more importantly her claws, to climb up rather than simply asking for him to lift her, and she rudely stepped up on the table to get a better view. She pondered over it for a few moments, loudly humming to voice her indecision before finally looking at him.

“Looks ugly.” She laughed as she jumped down from the table with a soft ‘hup!’ and an ‘oof!’ as she landed. Stefano simply rolled his eyes and nudged her gently away with his foot. He was startled as she cried out in pain, dropping to the floor and cradling herself.

“DONNA! DONNA YOUR STUPID ARTIST FRIEND KICKED ME!!” Angie shrieked. Stefano’s jaw dropped and he sat there frozen, unsure of whether he accidentally put more force into the nudge than he thought, but he was so sure he was being as gentle as physically possible. Donna’s footsteps were heard and in a few moments, she appeared in the doorway, looking at Angie, then Stefano, and back to Angie.

“Why would you do that to her, Stefano? After all this time I would've thought you’d get along better than this!” Donna was just audible enough for Stefano to make out what she was saying, his eye darting frantically between the two women as Donna knelt down to Angie. “I… I swear I was as gentle as I could be! I-I didn’t think it would… I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!” Stefano stuttered, completely confused as to how this all happened.

Donna shook her head and picked up Angie, carrying her out of the room. Stefano looked to Angie to make one last apology to her directly, only to notice she was completely fine and had ceased ‘crying’ and was now grinning at him and humming, the final piece of the puzzle was when she stuck her tongue out at him and crossed her eyes. She did all that on purpose! Just to get him in trouble… Oh he was going to get her for that.

[bisexual-bitch-blogs]

“How To Keep Your Gremlin Warm 101”

NSFW! Scaracoochie x Male reader

POV You are the gentle giant and your lover Scaramouche? Is the angy little gremlin. Also, winter has come and the heater doesn’t exist in this world. The only thing keeping you guys warm is the fireplace but it doesn’t seem………….enough. So you proposed an idea

Warning: Cock warming, size kink, blowjob, dirty talk

—————————————-

1st POV

Welcome to our cuddling sesh. Except it is cold as a winter’s butt cheeks. Heater? Non existent. Fireplace? Up and going but it doesn’t seem to be doing it’s job. Blankets are thick yet the cold somehow still manages to pass through and attempt to turn us into popsicles. I refuse to turn into a frozen Anna plus I’m horny.

Seeing the slim male desperately clinging onto me, shaking in his boots. I thought of an idea. Cock warming. If you don’t know what cock warming is. It is an act of a man putting their erection into his partner's vajayjay/ass in order to keep warm.

Gathering courage and confidence. I said, “You know, love…I know an idea on a way to keep us warm…”

He huffs followed by a shiver, replying back with an attitude.

“Oh yeah? How? Even I can’t think of one. What can you think of huh? Brawn for brains”

Ignoring his rudeness. I gave him a shit earring grin.

“You know. My junior is cold and I’m sure it’ll become a nice water bottle inside you, keeping us both warm. Since I’m the one generating the most heat here.”

He became a furious red, scowling at me before facing his body in the opposite way, screeching.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU HORN DOG!!”

He didn’t deny. Plus his ass is rubbing against my abdomen. I known him for quite a while now. 5 years; give or take. Translation: Fine, do it but I don’t wanna seem desperate.

2nd POV

“Why won't you face me, when I'm talking to you?” Your husky voice spoke into his ear as the harbinger felt a pair of arms press against the bed on either side of him, trapping him. Scaramouche gasped and shuddered in shock.

The navy haired male gulped thickly and averted his eyes, not wanting to stare into yours for too long. He won't admit it, but if he look at your love and lust filled eyes, he might accidentally shove his ass in the air, use his dainty looking hands to spread his mounds of fat apart, showing his cute puckered hole and beg you to breed him. That; or cum prematurely. Which by the way has happened before but you don’t want that to happen. Not right now at least.

Suddenly, he felt a pair of soft lips pressing against his own. Gasping softly, he stared into those intense eyes again and felt himself get lost as he slowly, hesitantly, kissed back. That seemed to please you because You felt hand cup his neck, holding him in place. Sighing softly into the kiss, he relaxed and slowly closed his eyes, enjoying the hot make out session. Taking a break from the steamy session due to a thing called ‘oxygen’, you pressed your forehead against his.

The short male nodded, leaning down to undo the button and unzip your pants by his teeth. You were already slightly hard from the grinding earlier so your throbbing dick made contact with Scara’s face, smacking against his cheek slightly as he made a noise that sounded like a mix between a moan and a grunt, and pressed himself against your member even harder.

Scaramouche stared at your member, almost admiring it. Even though he looked at it before, and although it had felt large in his hand the other night, it looked even bigger now. Quickly switching positions. You undressed him in a flick of a wrist. Now it was you with a face-full of his small erection. Gently licking the underside of your lover’s cock, smiling as his body shuddered with pleasure. You teased him a bit more, peppering kisses up the navy’s shaft, before finally taking his length into your mouth. Moaning out your name, encouraging you to take his length deeper. You thread your fingers together. The harbinger took pleasure in the intimacy he felt from holding hands. Moving the hand on the base of your member to the rhythm that you were sucking him off, and began arching himself into your mouth. Bobbing your head faster, encouraged by his own desperate fervor.

“I-I’m going to cum.” Seconds later, You felt the shorter male’s member pulsate inside your mouth, and tasted a salty yet saccharine liquid fill you. Swallowed slowly.

He could feel you smile as he slid the finger in to the hole and wiggled it around in an attempt to loosen up the tight tunnel. Using your other hand to massage the shorter man's dick, you picked up the pace and hardening the grip.

At this point, it was taking Scaramouche all that he had to hold in further moans, as he felt another finger entering his hole to join the first and begin to move in a scissoring motion.

A shiver runs through his entire body and he can feel the exact moment you find the spot that makes his mind go blank. He can feel his dick leaking on his abdomen, twitching at the stimulation, while everything starts to become too much.

As you heard him say your name, followed by a plea. Who the hell were you to deny your beloved husband anything when you promised to please him in whatever he asked? You ended up rubbing your member with Scaramouche’s, contrasting in size. It was cute. Shrimp vs eggplant.

“Archons. Everything about him is small.” You noted, admiring your husband’s body.

Scaramouche’s cock was leaking and bobbing against his stomach without any touch, and his legs was spread as widely as he could, presenting himself completely for you to greedily devoured his most tender parts, doing him thoroughly with your talented mouth. You hissed.

"Greedy slut. Always ready to put my cock inside you. Maybe that's what your meant to do." Scaramouche agreed silently, you bobbed your head as if life depends on it. You watched your lover squirm, trying to stay still.

Watching the your own pink lips slide up and down his cock, spit glistening from the dim light of the room. You gave special attention to the tip, peals of precum sliding down his small hand.

“You love it when I’m rough don’t you? You want me to overwhelm you and fuck you so hard that you won’t even be able to hear your own voice……You want me to ignore those pretty little pleas for mercy and fuck you. Huh? Damn cock slut.”

The navy haired male moans at the filthy words and seductive tone.He never expected to come out of the fluttershy personified giant when they first had sex. Towering over the shorter male. You moved your member towards his lips, you shoved them into his mouth. Letting it naturally lubricate.

Taking it back out, you lowered yourself, ready to penetrate his cavern. With some rubbing foreplay, you easily slipped inside, moving back and forth at your own pace.

“MORE~! PLEASE!!”

Gradually thrusting harder and faster into the younger man. “Such an impatient brat.” You murmured to yourself as he groaned with Scaramouche, who moaned louder and louder with each thrust into his tight hole.

Slowing down your pumping of Electro user’s sensitive little cock, not wanting him to come so soon as he searched for his sweet spot thrusting deeper and in all angles.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck nghhh ahhh!”

Slamming your hips into his non existent cervix/womb, he screams, blabbering profanities when you found his prostate and prodded it.

“H-Harderrr! More! Ahhh ahh ah! Right there argh! Right there! Don’t stop!”

Your lover screamed out unconsciously, sticking out his tongue as drools escaped from his agape mouth. A knot formed near your abdomen, tightening.

The short male was practically sobbing, tears of pleasure streamed down from his tightly-closed eyes. His wet inner walls spasmed frenziedly, grasping harder and quicker around the pulsating length inside him as he was edging closer to the peak that awaited. 

"Aaahn!...Huuhnn!…Haaah! Aaaah!"

After a few more specifically hard strokes right against his pleasure spot,

Scaramouche thrashed against the sheets and with a long, high-pitched scream, he finally came undone with a dry orgasm which was surprising but whatever. Saves you some cleaning cause Scaracoochie just got cream pie. Leaving your dick inside his slippery hole. You guys fell from your high and slept soundly not with a blanket thrown over the both of you to trap the warmth in.

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Alright NE X T. Honestly I should finish up the request first. They’ve been neglected long enough I’m so sorry. Am I completely back? No. But I’ll do my best to write once a while. So if ya like my dirty/comedy writings. Put the notification on ;))

Credit: Unknown

[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?

[legguk]

here I am again!! with chapter 2!!

( chapter 1 in case anyone missed it )

chapter 2: things are changing

word count: ~4,8k

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You were almost asleep, the waterfall sounds never failed to calm your soul, the distant symphony nature conceived you always following you throughout the day. Your stay at the Beneviento's state has been satisfactorily peaceful, your routine consisted of watching over Miss Beneviento and Miss Angie, administrate the house and cook for them; although you heard many legends and myths about the veiled woman, they all proved themselves wrong, Donna Beneviento was not a merciless sickening creature and Angie is not a disturbing – well, that's up to debate – maniac doll. They were kind, lovely, graceful, even. Energetic and serene, enthusiastic and gentle, intense yet lethargic; yes, those were Donna and Angie, opposites — The sun and the moon.

“Human! Donna requires your assistance!”

Ah, speaking of energetic. Angie hops through the garden to meet you sitting on a pile of soft snow, facing the waterfall, pleasantly starting the day.

“Donna needs someone to help with the fabric! Hey, are you hearing me?!” The doll pokes your right arm repeatedly, forcefully drawing your attention to her – if she had eyebrows, you can be certain they'd be very frowned now.

“Ah, yes, Miss Angie, I'm hearing you! I apologize for not responding at first” You support your hand on your thigh as you stand up, patting away any flakes on your work pants.

“Hm! I shall forgive you this time, human. But I won't have mercy next time!” It's the fourth time she says this. You play along, bowing to her as if she's the queen of the castle; her hands go to her hips, eyes closed, taking in the adoration you give her, silly little doll, if she only knew how she brightens up your day with only a few simple mannerisms.

You enter the house accompanied by Angie, the cozy ambiance greets you on a warm hug, contrasting the cold weather outside; the fireplace burns leisurely, the dancing flames sounds creating a piece of background music for this lovely morning. There's a certain smell in the air... Ah, chamomile tea and fresh chocolate and cinnamon cake, Donna's favorites – she must be in a good mood today – although you weren't expecting your lady to be baking, you were not going to complain, either.

“I thought you needed help with sewing, Miss Beneviento?” In a jump, she turns around, she must've not heard you coming in;

She lets out a long hum, probably calculating her next words “I did... Not... I apologize.”

You give her a reassuring smile and say there was no problem; the moment you were about to make your way out of the kitchen, a quiet 'Wait!' that was barely said out loud filled the air. “Perhaps... You would want to have some tea?”

The veiled woman sounded hesitant, yet full of determination... And honestly, how could you ever say no? Not just because the cake looks delicious, but because you know Donna made all this effort for you – she would never eat a whole cake by herself, she barely bakes anything since you came around... and did she ask Angie to come up with an excuse for you to get inside? – So it would not only be rude but also be very inconsiderate of you to refuse her request.

“I'd love to,” You say without hesitation.

All of the tension on the woman's shoulders went away, a relieved sigh left her lips as she settles the tea kettle on the table along with delicate ceramic cups – they were beautiful, elegant blue roses were painted along with the whole structure, a true artist's work – Oh, the cake looks divine, you cut a small piece for yourself, getting a small grunt of disapproval from Donna, who puts a larger piece on your plate - you return the favor, cutting a big piece for her as well - you both chuckle, it was moments like this that made you grateful for having her in your life. A lovely company, a thoughtful friend... You cherish each other, you know your place in her heart, and she knows hers in yours as well.

“Are you having a tea party without me?! The nerve!!” Angie stomps her way to the kitchen table, climbing on her high chair and facing you both on – what you believe is – disbelief;

“Oh please, Angie,” your lady says in a breathy response. She has lifted her veil to eat now, even though you've been here for several months and have seen Donna's face multiple times, you understand what her veil means to her and never once asked her to take it off; she's wearing it today because she's nervous – that explains the tea – Today the lords are having a meeting called by Mother Miranda herself to discuss 'village business'... You've been around long enough to know what they talk about in there; Beneviento never feels much thrilled to meet with her 'siblings'... And from what she says, you wouldn't be either! Imagine a 9'6 feet tall lady yelling at the robot man while a fish guy wants to participate in everything... You wonder what Miranda was thinking when she got them.

“Hey!! I'm talking!” The doll snapped you out of your thoughts about the soon event, making Donna giggle at your confused 'huh?'; she even finished her piece of cake already, for how long have they let you drift away?

“My apologies, I was quite distracted” Donna frowns her eyebrows for a microsecond, but decides not to say anything.

“Y’know, Donna was thinking of visiting the big lady this weekend” – Miss Angie rests her little chin on her hands, facing you.

“Oh, that's nice of you, I'm sure the girls are missing you two” You answer without putting much thought to it, as you take the fork with cake to your mouth.

Angie sighs comically loud, what made you look at her with a questioning look “Are you that dumb?? Donna is asking ya to come with us! Gosh!” ...Oh.

Oh

Donna wants you to go? That's– That's new. You're just a maid, you don't belong in the family visits... But now Donna is asking you to go. You feel your cheeks grow rosier as you almost choke on your fork – how embarrassing – “Ah, of course I will accompany you! Thank you for being kind enough to allow me to go, Donna”

She smiles, and that's when you smiled too, a peek of her face is all you need to go through your busy week - her serene expressions, the sweet sound of the giggles you steal from her, the way her nose scrunches when she's concentrated - you could spend the whole day listing every bit of her you wish you could frame and save from time's merciless tricks, but for now, her smile is all you want to focus on.

“Please, you're family.” The woman sounded so certain of what she just said, her voice was so filled with love you could almost grab it and keep it in your heart. You're family... that's how important you are to her now. Things are changing.

A few hours go by, the weather is significantly warmer outside, but still cold; the sky is bright grey, little snowflakes descending to meet the fresh layer of snow on the ground. Donna is putting on her veil and adjusting her doll's dress, the meeting will start soon; Lord Heisenberg will pick the girls up, take them there and bring them home safely, in return, you will go to his factory once a week to deliver some desserts and sweets and do him some company — he's a funny man... You worry about him sometimes, but he's not that bad, after all.

“Please take care, put on more clothes, and have the rest of the tea” Donna's left hand touches your shoulder while her right arm holds Angie close to her chest; you are all by the door, you're holding it open for them.

“Don’t worry my Lady, I will take care.” You give her a courtesy bow, receiving a light giggle as a response – the doll rolls her eyes and kicks her feet frenetically, telling Donna off for taking so long to get in Heisenberg's exquisite carriage. You wave at the man from afar, who lowers his hat a bit, his nice way of greeting you. The metal horses neigh and take off, the wagon disappearing into the horizon.

xxx

Angie's excited rambling saturates the once calm atmosphere of the house, Karl just dropped them off, coming to the door with them.

“Here they are, kid, no scratches.” He puts a cigar on his mouth and looks into the house through his dark glasses, taking in the ambiance.

“Why, thank you, Lord Heisenberg – ”

“Tsk. Cut the ‘Lord’ shit, just call me Karl.” He interrupted you, although he sounded annoyed, you knew he was befriending you “You’re basically family, no? We all know how Donna cares for you – honestly, it's annoying.”

“I- I’m sorry, what did you mean by that?” The man laughs at your rosy cheeks and stutters, waving his hand, he takes a drag of the cigar, walking to his carriage “I’ll be waiting for cookies, girl”.

You wave back, closing the door and looking at the living room, where your ladies are making themselves comfortable.

“You won't believe what happened today!! The bird lady gave us a baby!”

“Oh– Oh no, Angie– Miranda gave us a flask to take care of..”

“A baby!”

“...A flask”

“A baby in the flask!” – Donna sighs in defeat, rubbing her temples. Angie points to a square yellow flask on top of a ceramic counter, there's a label on it, you come closer to read it.. ‘Legs’.

...Legs? It can’t be actual – Oh, you're starting to feel sick. “Um... Donna...?'' You hesitantly look at the woman, who sighs heavily and lifts her veil, her expression says it all; her eyebrows frowned upwards, lips sealed and her eyes have a disappointed tint to it. She slowly nods, her gaze going from you to ‘Mother Miranda's gift’.

“I understand if you want me to put it away in the basement.” She's willing to do it for you? No, she's your lady, you should do it.

“I suppose I should–” Once again you are interrupted, this time by the eager doll, who jumps in your arms with the flask on her hands – When did she get it? How did you not see her? – “I hope Ethan won’t try to take it back!” Your head tilts to the side, a silent question to both of the girls.

“Ahem... Ethan is... Rose's father... And Rose is, well...” – Oh, heavens. – “Mother captured him and Heisenberg made him go through a ..‘death maze’..” Donna's fingers go up and down on a quotation mark sign.

“But he ran away!!” — A dense silence fell onto the room, the atmosphere suddenly grew uncomfortable, at least for you.

“Are you alrighty?” Angie turns to face you, her eyes traveling your whole face, your expression is blank now; what the hell was going on? This is all too much to take in at once.

“Is he dangerous?” That was the only thing you managed to say among so many questions you wanted to ask Donna.

“Well... He did escape Heisenberg's plan...” Then he is, that's what she's saying.

“How long ago was that?”

“The escape? two hours or so! We stayed there with Heisenberg trying to find out what he did wrong, dumb metal man...” You hum, your semblance should look horribly tense, because the next thing you remember was Donna's hand being so lightly placed on your left arm as if you were a shattered porcelain doll about to break with any rougher contact.

“Miss Angie, would you mind giving us a moment to speak in private?” – You lower the doll and take the flask from her hands.

“Ya know Donna and I are connected, right?” The smaller girl was quickly taken out of the room by her master — and you swear you heard a quiet ‘shoo, shoo’. The lady of the house now stands in front of you, a concerned look on her face, matching yours.

“Miss Donna, I'm worried about this whole situation... Maybe we should be careful. Do you understand what I mean?”

“I am afraid I do...” She looked nervous, her fingers fidgeting and interlocking with themselves; there's silence for a long moment, both of you meticulously measuring your next words, surprisingly, Donna is the first to speak; with a heavy sigh, she stands up straighter.

“If anything happens, you must go to the castle, please.”

“But my lady—”

“Alcina will know what to do, that man won't get past her state, her girls are probably hunting him now – if they haven't found him already. Still, if something happens to me or Angie, you know who to ask for help, okay?” — You nod — “Promise me, please.”

“...I promise.”

How you were going to regret this later.

She shyly smiles with the corners of her mouth as you take her hands in yours, your way of saying ‘everything will be alright’. The woman opened her mouth to say something, but her words died in the air, her sudden frozen reaction sent chills down your spine – what's happening? – she looks straight at the door, her semblance growing more and more despairing.

“Miss Beneviento?”

...

“My lady?”

...

“Donna?!”

Her gaze hesitantly made its way from the door and fell upon you, her hands are slightly shaking – is she starting to hyperventilate? – she tried to speak, but not even a whisper was heard. After a few tries, her shaky and breathy voice met your ears – “He’s here.”

You are petrified, the grip your hands have on hers grows tighter, what does she mean, he's here? He can't be here. That would mean getting past House Dimitrescu and the only way someone could do that is by k—

Oh no...

You can tell that is exactly what Donna is thinking about as tears threaten to fall from her glossy eyes. Lady Dimitrescu can't be... dead... can she? What about her daughters? Oh, poor things...

“You must go.” Your lady's voice got your attention again, her trembling tone barely allowing her to properly speak, so she led you by the hand to a room with aid kits and hand-made medicines; she handed you a bag containing some of it and pointed to the door.

...Is... Is this how she is going to send you off?... Not even a ‘goodbye’, or a handshake, at the very least? Your eyebrows frown and your lips part open, you hold the bag against your chest closer to you. “...My lady..?” Now your voice is trembling as well. She avoids your gaze, standing firmly at the same spot.

She calls Angie, who floats towards you, pushing you through the house to the front door. “I’m sorry, but ya promised.”

She and the other dolls corner you at the door, your back meeting the hardwood board; you can hear your heart shattering as you're being so abruptly banished from the house.

“You can't even say something?! After all we've been through? Is this really how you want to send me away?!... Please, Donna.”

After overlong minutes of deafening silence and a torturing lack of response, you see a now veiled figure stand in front of you, a few meters away; her hands are by her sides, fidgeting with her dress' cloth, her head hangs low, her gaze meeting the floor.

“I didn't know how to...” she murmured.

You feel warm tears wet your eyes as you walk confident steps toward the woman you care so much for – you leave the carrier on the floor – your arms are wide open, embracing her as you bury your face in the crook of her neck; some seconds pass by before her own hands go up to your back and grab your clothes — she's crying on your shoulder and she's soaking it, but you don't care because you're also damping her dress. What felt like an eternity as you were hugging went by too fast, you gradually drift away from each other's embrace, slowly picking up the bag and snuffling, you know you can't stay there; if there's any chance of Donna surviving this, it depends on you.

You hug Angie one last time, the other dolls gather around you and their little arms do their best trying to hold you too, how you loved Donna's marvelous inventions. They all follow you to the back door – where you would try not to cross paths with Ethan – You grab the bag tight, you're leaving.

“I will come back.” You smile as a reassurance, hesitantly going through the door and closing it, you breathe in sharply – can't stop now.

Donna watches you say your last words to her and smiles morosely, waving at the closed-door – “Please don't...”

You were almost crossing the bridge to leave Beneviento's state, everything was going fine, the man didn't seem to show up... Maybe Donna was just mistaken and everything is alright.

— But like a shot, Angie's maniac laughter gets to your ears and smashes any kind of hope you had of Ethan ignoring their house. You hold yourself, Angie's threats can be heard from here; you know Donna won't be able to hold him for much longer, you must be faster.

xxxx

“Lady Dimitrescu!”

You're here. You're finally here. But what the hell happened here?

The chilly air makes your lips tremble a bit, your arms instantly hugging yourself; walking here was no easy task, but that's none of your concern anymore. You go through one of the castle's demolished walls, you look up, there's a hole in the roof and the levels above, just beneath it there's a... carcass of God knows what, although it looks like a rotting dragon. — Oh God, did it kill Lady Dimitrescu?.. Or perhaps she killed it?

You keep marching carefully yet hurriedly; you find the doors open and the handles smeared with blood, feeling apprehensiveness tightening your chest, you make your way inside of the castle. You look around and process the ambiance, the unexpected warm atmosphere of the house falls upon you like a blanket, but the comfortable feeling disappears the moment you see blood splashed all over the walls, corpses of lycans and monsters ripen in half and splayed on the floor... A crimson path marks its way through the rooms, and maybe you should follow it.

“Lady Dimitrescu?”

As you follow the sanguine liquid trail, you spot a huge stiff figure laying on the floor, covered in wounds and painted scarlet red. You rush to help her, not even certain if she was still alive.

“My lady!”

She grunts, a surprisingly low growl leaves her lips as she sits up, holding onto a cloth around her body for dear life, you walk closer to her slowly and steadily, but her cry of pain as she holds a wound on her side makes you run to her – how it pains you to see someone like this. Yet, you take quick steps back and almost freeze in place when she unleashes her terrorizing long and sharp claws, why is she doing this? You're trying to help, and she needs it.

You bring your hand to your chest, not because you're afraid, but because you feel your heart beating so fast it might explode. – “Please, Lady Dimitrescu, let me help!”

“Out.”

Her voice was like a rumble of thunder and it reverberated through your whole body, giving you goosebumps; for a moment, all you could do was obey and step away, your gaze still fixated on her, but something clicked in your mind — you made a promise.

You can see a clear change in the woman's expression as you stand your ground.

“Leave. I will not repeat myself.”

You can't go, even though you truly want to, you want to go back to your Misses, you want to run away from this woman who might behead you any instant, you want to leave; all this flashes in your mind as you look at the big main doors. You grab the clothes on your chest with an absurd strength, come on, you need to be brave now. You sigh, Donna has no idea of the impact she has on your life.

“Allow me to help.” You try to sound certain, but the thought of Donna and Angie invades your mind and brings you to the verge of tears again.

Feet taking more steps closer to the Lady, you can't look at her, not like this, almost crying, that'd be pathetic.

Although it seemed impossible, her nails grew longer and her eyes were intensely trying to burn holes in your head, she is indeed terrifying, but you must not fear her now, you trust Donna, she said Alcina would help. You move your arms to the front of your body as a peace sign, you don't want to cause any harm. Still, she shows her teeth and looks at you with a feral cast, like a beast ready to devour its prey. You gulp, just a few more steps and—

An unhesitating metal swing sound cuts through the air; you scream, you shout at the top of your lungs as you feel her cold claws rip your face and throw you away with much force. Hot blood squirts and spills from your face and chest — you can't make a noise anymore, your lips are parted, mouth open, searching for the air you suddenly don't have anymore, your hands go to your face, trying to figure out either to press your wounds or hide it from the woman. You spend some more moments in anguish, trying to find your voice, but not even a whisper would make its way out; you were struggling to open your left eye, it hurts so much, everything hurts, burns, aches — pain washes over you and adrenaline runs fast in your veins. A raspy and agonizing scream builds up in your chest and leaves your throat way louder than you expected, getting the Lady's attention. Good.

Stupid loyalty, foolish attachment, cursed be all the fondness in your heart that is making you do this. You need to do this, don't forget why you're here. Your shaky hands reach for your bag, pulling out a flask of treatment disinfectant, you assemble your last strengths to crawl your way to her and kneel up, stretching the hand with the flask out; you can't stay like this for long, your body is giving up on you – the moment she takes the medicine, you collapse right in front of her, not even caring about being safe or not.

xxxx

It's dark. Cold. Unbelievably silent. You’re alone now, only you and the abandoned hopes that still wander above your head, both yours and hers — speaking of her, where is Lady Dimitrescu? You need her help. but as it seems, you must aid her first — You breathe stiffly and out of tempo, your clothes and hair are drenched, and your face has a bit of crust on it, probably dry blood.

Elbows up first, then shoulders, push your back up and now you’re on your hands and knees, still facing the floor; it all still hurts, your body aches from being so brutally tossed at the floor. You can’t move nor feel your face — not much of a good sign — Your left eye is locked shut, God knows what will happen if you try to open it. Your vision is blurry and dark, as if it’s dirty, which makes sense if you consider all the blood in your face; you cannot see well and… Perhaps, your left eye might go blind... — let’s pray it doesn’t turn that way.

From a pool of blood underneath you, there's your reflected image, you make some effort to see the damage that woman did to you: three big claw marks cuts through your face, one striked your lips, cutting up at a point you can see part of your gum, the other is right in the center, it striked the bridge of your nose and your left eye, and the last one got the side of your forehead and a bit of your hairline. Well… Let’s focus on the not so bad things for now.— At least your body and hair are fairly fine.

A small drop that hits the pool’s liquid and creates small scarlet waves makes you notice you have been crying during this whole process, tears washing over your wounds and making them sting, only to find their way into the crimson beneath you. You take your time at this position, everything is so quiet, so peaceful, the wind and the birds chirping try to fill in the devastating mourning and obscure silence of the castle — they don’t succeed.

… Now, thinking about it, you don’t want to keep facing your — shattered and ruined — reflection, so you heavily exchange your weight to your legs, sitting on your knees.

Air escapes your lungs for a millisecond as your gaze meets the lady of the house — was she watching you the entire time? How did you not notice her? Heard her? — She’s standing away from you, almost hiding in the shadows; at some point of your unconsciousness, she must have gone to her chambers since she got rid of those bloody sheets that wrapped her and is now wearing a proper robe that cascades to the floor.

Neither of you dares to break eye contact — an unspoken dialogue — Alcina has a dreadful look on her eyes as if she’ll murder you right this instant; now that you realize, she’s clean, although her hand still presses the injury on her side, it must be a severe one, as she looks healed from all the others. You decide to stand on your feet, your shaky legs not collaborating; your body is still limp, your joints hurt and there’s this constant pain in your lungs as you breathe, however, you keep your gaze locked with hers. The moment you opened your mouth to speak, she abruptly interrupted you.

“I shall give you one chance. Who are you and what are you doing at my house?”

Her words were like a knife and her tone was a flame burning you alive, her frowned eyebrows and threatening eyes sent shivers down your body — that or the excruciating wintry breeze that kisses your injuries — you are petrified in place. You gulp, your mouth opens and closes multiple times, but nothing comes out, nothing but only a whisper: “Donna...”

Her eyes squint and her lips form a pout, she walks closer to you, bending her torso so she meets your face.

“You know Donna Beneviento?” — You nod twice.

A hum leaves her throat but she doesn’t look any less suspicious of you, she grabs the sides of your face, carefully enough to not open your wounds any further, and brings you closer to her by lifting you at a point your feet barely touch the floor — how little effort it took an injured woman to do this, well, not any woman, she’s Lady Dimitrescu. Who is about to behead you if you don’t decide to speak — Yet, she stops and stares deep into your soul, a command: proceed.

“I-I was sent by Lady Beneviento” You stutter so much you need to take a deep breath before continuing. “She needs help, Ethan is—”

“Ethan?”

“Yes, Ethan Winters, he found them and n—” She suddenly drops you, the thud of your body hitting the ground makes you gasp for a second, you couldn't even hold yourself up. She stands straighter now, her expression is cold and serious as she looks forward — what is she wondering about? Will she help you? She takes her time staring at the horizon, time enough for you to slowly pick yourself up, limps slightly trembling.

A heavy and low sigh fills the air as she closes her eyes, arms hanging on her sides, as her golden gaze meets you again, you almost frown your eyebrows seeing how unexpectedly her expression changed. She was so revengeful and ferocious a few moments ago, now she looks… fatigued — shattered, if you will — . The woman unhurriedly walks out of the room, leaving you without a proper response. Will she help? Will she not? Good lord, all this tension even made you forget the pain you find yourself in. Perhaps the medicines you brought will do better for yourself than for her. You bury your hand inside of your bag and pull out some pills and flasks for your injuries, following Alcina right away, clumsily sprinting to match her quick pace.

“Lady Dimitrescu! Wait, please!”

——————

heeyyaa I actually posted chapter 2!! yk the drill, if you read it till here, thank you and I love you!! please like and/or reblog if you want me to post the next chapter!!

( posted on Ao3! Name: “The woman in your castle” )

[oopey-doopey]

Ok this au is making me so happy! How would the four lords react to Ethan saying that he loves them or showing them physical affection(hugs/forehead kisses,etc)

Hmmm, this au isn't completely soft found family so kisses and like tender embraces may be a really distant future... But Ethan would do some sweet stuff

Alcina Dimitrescu

he may shake her hand the Nobel way; gently place her hand over hers, a gentle tilt. Alcina is surprised that he remembers her boundaries as I doubt she’d like to be embraced by a man thing. 

On a good day she may stoop down and give a stiff side hug, which Ethan leans way too into and then she’s like “stupid father man thing, your affections are uncalled for... but apricated”

Not much for physical affection from him but gets an overwhelming sense of pride when he says he’s proud of her progress (particularly towards not drinking human blood)

If she over heard “I love/car about you” in any context towards her OR her daughters, she’d be over the moon for days, she’d take it as a sign that she’s the favorite and strut with a pep in her step about it

Donna + Angie

Donna already is sorta touchy with how she’ll lead Ethan around her house to show him the dolls by hand. So she’s sorta indifferent herself to the idea of hugging Ethan and so is he

She however feels super happy that Ethan takes to Angie. He lets her run around him and even carries her with the same care as Rose and it means so much

Angie is a part of her so that’s kinda the closest she’d get to embracing him for now, but occasionally she’ll rest her head on his shoulder when they watch Angie and her friends perform

If she overheard “I love/car about you” in any context toward her or Angie she’d be so happy that she finally made a new genuine friend and will sow sooooo many new dolls both for her and Rose.

Salvatore Moreau

dude knows he’s gross and slimy and that Father Ethan would never want to touch him... Yet, surprisingly Moreau is the only case of the lords where Ethan purposely initiates contact

Its nothing huge but he’ll pat his head or arms (not the back due to it’s sensitivity). It shocks Moreau but he is is elated that after so many years someone is giving him positive reinforcement

Moreau never initiates a hug or a pat and is hesitant just to walk too close but Ethan realizes that if he doesn’t get Moreau use to being around people it will impede his progress so he tries for him

If he overheard “I love/care about you” in any context towards him, he’d honestly throw up from excitement. He hasn’t heard that said to him in so long and honestly hearing it from Father Ethan would be enough to make him feel less lonely for weeks

Karl Heisenberg

He’s the one that does most of the touchy stuff. Like he’ll swing his arm around Ethan’s neck and show him whatever weird saw contraption he has come up with today.

Ethan reciprocates a little and will playfully punch his arm or shake his shoulder at jokes or if he understands a machine enough to be impressed by it

Karl acts like the stuff is normal and it doesn’t matter to him but he def feels bad if he doesn’t get his dad back pat or shoulder shake when Ethan stops by to look at a machine

If he overheard “I love/care about you” in any context towards him he’d brush it off and be like “thanks daddy” and ruin the moment, but it would make him feel a lot better about still being trapped in the village knowing someone really cares.

In short, it’s a lot of stiff and awkward touches and hidden enjoyment from the lords, but Ethan tries to be humane and kind cause its better to be stuck together acting rude.

[kamyru]

can you make an Irresistible Mistake MC headcanon?

Oooo. That's interesting. It's actually harder than do headcanons for LIs, because MCs are somehow self-inserts of the reader. Probably, I put something from me in these headcanons too. Yet, I hope you'll still like them. Enjoy! ❤️

Headcanons for: Toshiaki Kijima, Shunichiro Tachibana, Natsume Asaoka, Toma Kiriya, Yukihisa Maki

Irresistible Mistakes MC Headcanons

Growing up, she was a little closer to her father than to her mother.

At least once, during her school years, she accidentally put her homework and books on fire while trying to combine cooking and studying.

Moreover, she nearly put her parents' restaurant on fire while she was little. Her parents tried to ban her from the kitchen but reconsidered it.

While she was still in university, she used to volunteer for pet shelters because she couldn't afford to have a pet back then.

When she started to live alone, she didn't know how to use her income wisely. So, at least once, she lived on instant ramen because that was all she could afford after spending money on useless things.

As a student, she smoked a few times. As an adult, I think only in two cases did she try to smoke ever again. She begged Shunichiro to let her once when she was very stressed. In Jun's case, she stole a cigarette from him, then had to listen to his lectures about how bad it was for her health. She tried to pull something like this with Toshiaki but thought that he would be disappointed in himself for making her feel like this, and she gave up.

The first few times she slept with her lover, the man got hit at least twice a night.

Also, she is a blanket hog.

MC doodles her boyfriend's face on her notebooks. In every single route, the men in her storyboards somehow look like her lover. That's one of the ways Shun understands whom she is dating.

Besides the fact that she has a very gentle way of expressing her thoughts, she is also soft-spoken. Go was the first one to observe it. He tried to teach her how to sing because of this.

The only time she can be rude is when she is drunk. But even then, she's not more than an angy kitten.

Speaking of kittens, she sneezes like a kitten. Her baby "ah-choo's" are a running meme in the company.

She has a list of snacks and sweets that she has eaten so much that she can't look at them anymore without having the urge to puke.

She tried to learn German and French by herself after she had found out in Yukihisa's route that he speaks them.

Sings in the shower or when is bored. That's also a sign that MC feels comfortable near someone.

MC wants a dog, yet she knows they need more attention than cats. So, she can't take one.

Probably the first time she had ever asked her lover to buy her pads was after they married.

She is the type to pack lunch for work, forget about it, and find it all rotten three weeks after.

The only bitter thing she can eat/drink is Mira Black Coffee. So, in other routes besides Toshiaki, she probably doesn't eat bitter food.

MC has a scratch map, where you scratch the countries you have visited. Probably after her honeymoon, the number of countries scratched reached three-four.

She is the type to talk more often with her brother's girlfriend than with her brother.

She has a ton of books about art and museums.

Can't identify when people are flirting with her. She'll ask her partner jokingly: "Are you trying to romance me?" And he'll be "Finally!".

[mxvladdy]

A Break- Chapter 5

Oh lord this took too long and ‘bout killed me. I hope my edits are good! 

It’s a biggen so it’s all under the cut! 

Hope y’all like it! I know it was long over do :/

He dreams of dragons. A swirling blur of purples, reds, and yellows. His mindscape was a rich profusion of colors. Two become sharper standing out in the sea of hues. His father’s dragon emerges from the mass. The great black dragon floats ethereally around him, judging him. But, unlike the years spent under his father's tutelage, all he got were stern looks and cold words of praise. Now, he can feel a warm sense of- pride. Was his father finally proud of him? How? Of what? Next to him, another dragon appears. His mother’s dragon wove around the long form of his father. Black and pearly pink twisting and revolve hypnotically around his body. They radiated peace, and rest. An urge to join them began to overwhelm him. A break sounded nice. He deserved one, didn’t he?

When was the last time he had felt this at peace? There were a few times perhaps in recent memories. A blurry face comes to mind. A sweet smile and a laugh that is so warm and bright. He remembers the feel of soft fingers scratching along his goatee. He felt at peace then, safe and loved. It gives him pause- the urge to slip away waning. His paternal dragon stops its coiling, eyes locking with his partner. He pulls backs, separating from his mate. His mother’s dragon chirps, drifting closer and closer, she tries to touch her son. Her whiskers mere inches from his floating hand. Obsidian claws stop her from touching her eldest. His father’s dragon huffs once in warning, shaking its great head. His mother snaps at the claw, stubborn in her convictions. She wanted her son back, safe within her clutches in the afterlife. Had he not gone through enough? From the clan to his own penances? She had been so close to getting her youngest back years ago. Yet she had been robbed then too.

She wouldn’t be denied twice.

Hanzo watches helplessly as the two beasts argue in a language he does not know. He is torn between a want to be here with them, and the warm thoughts trickling slowly back into his mind. The pearlescent dragon rears back with a cry of anguish, nostrils flaring at whatever the black dragon had said. She makes eye contact with him once more. The dragon’s eyes were the same color as his mother's before she turned from him leaving his line of sight. His father gave him one last look filled with, pride? Before disappearing too. He shouts for them, crying out for his mother. To not be left alone again. But they were silent in the void. Not even in death was he good enough.

He floats again, or lays? He truly cannot tell what axis or plane he was on. But he could still feel. He felt cold and so so tired. Where were his dragons? If his parents were here surely his dragons must be too. He calls for them, but he gets no answer. The seal on his arm was horribly quiet.

He can do nothing but drift now.

He hears things sometimes, a soft sweet voice reading to him. Other times it’s a smooth accented voice walking him through something they were about to do. Hallucinations or reality he couldn’t tell. They get stronger though. Soon he begins to feel a warmth on his face. Like he was basking in the heat of the summer sun. Other times it’s the brush of something cool and wet on his neck and arms. The fingers were too smooth to be human but dexterous like them. They were humming, the tinny and augmented drone familiar. Hanzo knew that melody, he knew that voice, but he just couldn’t place it. Hanzo listens for a while, floating on the melody before it too disappears. They leave him, only an incisive beeping echoing in his head for company.

His dragons come to him after what felt like an eternity. Akuma approaches first, his massive body colliding with Hanzo’s. The archer clings to the great beast burying his face into the fur. Hanzo cares little for the claws puncturing his skin and scratching him as Akuma clicks and coos in delight. Ibuki wraps herself around them both, quiet but vibrating with relief. Hanzo opens his mouth to speak. His throat clicks, dry and inflamed. Something is choking him.

No-rest. We will get you out soon. Out? He stiffens in their warm embrace. He didn't want out. It was nice here, quiet. He didn't feel pain or much of anything in here. He could stay like this... No. Akuma nips his cheek in aggravation. Family, they need you. She needs you-

It comes back to him hard and fast. His last kiss with you before leaving for the terminal. The video before bed. Him whispering goodnight to your sleeping face ending the call before turning in himself. To the security breach and his fight. He needs to get back. If his parents left him here then he should wake up. Why wasn't he waking up? We will protect. His dragons nuzzle him once more before they push away returning to the great beyond, promising to take care of you while he gets stronger. Their determination fuels him to fight, to survive.

He trains his mind to pick up on the noises and touches happening around him while he waits. He picks up the tick of a clock and the sound of waves by his side. Their constant background noise soothing and grounding. Genji comes daily to hum and chat in their native tongue. He spoke of idle, sweet little things. The weather, who was on kitchen duty that evening, the training schedule. He sounded so hopeful every time he visited. Like his big brother was going to wake up at any moment and respond. After Genji came Mei and Ana. The two mostly acted like he was with them and discussed whatever book they were reading while waiting on him. They would come in the evenings and read passages aloud for him. It was a welcomed break from the monotony of silence. Ana came more often than Mei. He could smell the tea she would bring in when she sat by his side reading aloud in Arabic. Ah- her favorite book of poetry. She never translated this book for him, but between her cadences and phrasing, she wove the beauty of the verses nonetheless.

Ana was interrupted today though. Midway through a verse, she stopped. Her tongue stumbling over itself uncharacteristically. Hanzo felt her shift and rise without another word. He recognized Baptiste and Angela's voices talking to her, their voices low and hurried. He hears Ana laugh gently and the door to his room snaps shut.  His doctors bustle around him for a moment though he senses another person in the room with them. Odd- unless his brother came back. No, much too quiet to be him. Angie and Baptiste leave quickly, their check-up done, leaving him alone with the new visitor.

"Hey, Hanz." A soft voice brushes his cheek. "How are you today?" Hanzo’s heart hurts. How did- when did you come here. He wanted to be angry, to yell at you for coming to such a dangerous place. He wanted to hunt down whoever found you and throttle them. This was putting you in harm’s way. Yet, at the same time, he wished he could see you. He wished he could tell you how much he missed you and that he was there. Instead, floats in his own subconscious. “I-Angie says that you might hear me. Something about your brain scans?” You squeeze his hand with a light chuckle. You trail off distracting yourself by rubbing soothing patterns in his palm. “If-if you can, know that I know. Not everything, your brother has been so kind to me.” You squeeze his hand, bordering on almost uncomfortable. “But I need to hear the things he said from you. So-so get better soon, please? I miss you.” Now more than ever he wishes he could comfort you. Why hadn't he just swallowed his pride early? This could have been avoided. He hoped at least.

The rest of your visit passes too quickly for his liking. The scant bit of privacy he had with you was filled with your tender voice and gentle touches. He felt your fingers brush along his smooth jaw, stroking it like you did whenever you would lounge in bed sweaty but happy after a lengthy reunion. The kisses you placed on his brow were just as sweet too. You only left after one of the doctors came in to force you out to get dinner and stretch.

You poke at the warm meal Ana had plated for you in the mess hall. The steaming rice and tomato covered lentils sitting comfortably in your stomach. “Eat, dear. Then I think it’s best if you take a nap. When was the last time you slept horizontally?” Ana winks at you over her shoulder stirring a pot filled with browning onions and spices. The elderly medic had lost count of the number of times she had walked in on you sleeping in the chairs in the medical wing.

“I’m fine-really.” You smile rubbing at your sore neck. The hospital chairs here were soft, sure, but not meant for daily sleeping. Ana snorts but doesn’t say anything more on the matter. Instead, she distracts your haggard mind with recipes and tea ideas, sprinkling in little stores of her childhood. You find yourself relaxing more and more; the time between when you wanted to get back to Hanzo’s side and since you sat down for dinner growing longer and longer in between. You yawn widely, failing to cover it with your mouth with your hand. “Shit- sorry.” You flush. The other woman waves it off.

“It’s fine sweetheart. Just means my food and company did its job.” She smiles collecting both of your dishes to place them in the sink. “Come-let me escort you to your room.”

“You really aren’t going to let me go back huh?”

“Not a chance child. He isn’t going anywhere trust me.” She grips the back of your shirt to lead you in the opposite direction of the ICU. You scowl but follow along, dragging your feet along a little in the process.

You had been offered Hanzo’s room when you landed last week. It had been untouched since he had been transferred to the Ilios base. But you couldn’t, it felt almost rude to. He hadn’t consented to any of this. It just felt wrong. His room was what you had always imagined. Clean and tidy, the few items he had well loved and maintained. Some looked pricy, but most were homey little things that must have reminded him of Japan. You ask to stay in a vacant room but still find yourself in his room from time to time, dusting his heavy bookshelf or to vacuum his rug and shake the linens out. You only broke down once in his room, but it was enough for you to never want to go back in there. Not until Hanzo was back living in it. While mopping one day you stumbled across a little box, it was your box, the old thing was filled with letters. The creases in the paper thin and tearing from constantly being opened and reread over and over again. The trinkets you had sent him over the years were worn, but clean. The metal pins and coins shiny and discolored from fingers rubbing them lovingly. You put the box back where you found it and leave. Athena could clean from now on.

Genji and Angie had discussed a lot with you since you took up residence. You were grateful for their updates and check-ins. Baptiste even gave you some reading about what to expect when Hanzo is up and going through physical therapy. He emphasized that the longer he was in the ICU the longer recovery could be. “But don’t stress,” He pats your hand warmly. “That man is as stubborn as an Ox. He’ll bounce back in no time!”

You hope so. From the bits Genji told you after they found him...it had been- disparaging. The road had been rocky, though they wouldn’t disclose all the details to you. The first few weeks were touch and go before Angie finally could sign off on putting him under medically. She spoke as simply as she could but it was still a lot for you. But she was certain he would pull through, and that as soon as he could breathe on his own again she would begin the process of waking him up.

How long that would take no one knew.

You met quite a few interesting characters while you sat vigil by his bedside. Mei is a riot. The plucky young scientist is a delightful conversationalist and had many stories about Hanzo. When she talked about him you could immediately understand why they were friends. Both mathematically minded and sentimental to a fault.

Satya was more pensive when she visited at first, but warmed up to you gradually over talks of your business. Her eyes lit up when you told her your struggles with tin designs. “Let me design some for you. Your tins are wonderfully shaped, but ultimately boring.” She looks down at Hanzo’s resting form. She strokes his head lightly. The stubble growing on his crown had been recently washed. Baptist came in earlier to remove the stitches around his temporal lobe.  “I’ll send you some designs tonight.” She nods curtly before leaving you alone again. Over the next few weeks, you gradually met the rest of the agents. Whether it be them coming to say hello and check up on their comrade or in the kitchen, welcoming you to a warm meal, and thousands of questions about how you met.

It wasn’t until the second month of your stay did you meet Hanzo’s dragons. It was late, later than any of the medical staff would advise you to stay up. But, you could only stay away from work for so long and it was finally quiet. You were working by Hanzo’s side, the beeping of his monitor lulling you into a trance while you read over your spreadsheets. At first, you didn’t notice, the rhythmic beeping of his machinery was white noise to you at this point. The first few hitches you missed, too preoccupied with moving numbers and shipments around. The skips steadily grew faster and more erratic, it pulls your focus from your screen. “Hanzo?” You toss your laptop to the side, ready to buzz for help. He doesn’t move, not even a flicker behind his eyelids. Nothing was out of place until you touched him. His arm is warm underneath your fingers. Too warm, near scorching. You yelp in pain falling back at a sudden blinding light that erupts from his tattoo. The room fills with a blaze of blue and gold, the energy of the blast knocks you to the floor. You scream as two massive dragons irrupt from him. They swirl around the tiny space, scleraless eyes scan the room for something.

That something just happened to be you. Two sets of eyes lock with yours. Large fanged jaws open wide, hackles raised. You sit frozen in awe and terror. Were they going to kill you? No-surely not. Genji said they would recognize you-hypothetically. They were an extension of their master's souls. The two lunge for you, three-clawed feet open wide like birds of prey. Squeezing your eyes shut you wait for the impact of scales and teeth.

Two small projectiles collide with you. The force of which knocks the air from you. “Oph!” You wheeze arms wrapping instinctively around the squirming warm creatures clinging to your chest. Two thin dry tongues flick out and tickle your jaw and cheeks.

“I heard a scream! Are you-” Genji burst in looking about frantically, his wakizashi drawn and at the ready. Angie and Baptist barge in behind him, both armed as well. “Oh.” Genji gasps, his sword drops limply to his side. “Aniki.” You look up from your prone position, still dazed and confused by the now tiny blue dragons nestled on your stomach.

“Are you alright?” Genji asks, helping you up back to your feet and righting your upturned chair. His eyes never leave the two spirits in your hands. You nod meekly. “Come, let’s give them room to work.” He takes one last look at his brother and the doctors before leading you out with him. “What happened?” He asks in the hallway eyeing the two blue dragons now wrapped around your upper body. He punches in the code for his room and lets you in.

“I-I don’t know.” The larger of the two dragons chirps as it loses its grip on your sweater. You scoop it up to nuzzle your neck like you would an infant. It coos, wrapping its fluffy tail around your wrist. The slimmer smaller one squawks indignantly, jealous of its partner's attention. It too nuzzles at your neck, draping itself around you like a scarf. “One minute I was balancing my checkbooks, and the next I heard the heart monitor going crazy. Then these two jump me.” You glanze up at Genji. He looks so hopeful. A small sigh of relief escapes him. “Is this good?”

Genji sighs heavily and flops onto his bed. He rubs at the synthetic skin of his chin thoughtfully. He points at the two dragons. “Look at how translucent they are. It takes a lot of energy to summon them to our realm.” You clutch at the squirming reptiles taking a good look at them. The two look at you with large innocent eyes. What he said was true. You could see your hands through their bodies. Their scales were dull and lacked the luster of Genji’s dragon. The larger one’s left antler was chipped and flaking onto the floor. The smaller one was very thin and hollow looking. Genji sighs looking miffed. “My best bet is they told Hanzo you're here and he sent them out to look after you. Which is sweet, but foolish. Summoning when we are mentally or physically weak could kill us if we are not careful.” He drags his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“What happens now?”

He shrugs. “I can’t say. It’s up to him now. But, I believe this is a good sign.” Genji reaches out and scratches behind one of the dragon's ears. “Thank you for coming out to us.” He speaks directly to the dragons, bowing his head low in respect. They preen, clicking and cooing in delight. Genji’s little dragon appears shortly after jumping into the fray of blue and gold.  You sit in the cyborg’s cozy room watching Hanzo’s dragons play. For the first time in ages your chest cliches with something other than fear.

It takes another 3 weeks for Hanzo to open his eyes. Of course, he had to do it the one night you decided to sleep in a bed. Your back had been pleading for days for a normal night's rest. It felt like your head had barely hit your pillow before his two dragons woke you. Tiny claws kneading your stomach and chest. They were solid and heavy. Their scales are bright and iridescent. The larger one, Akuma bumps your face hard with his antlers. Huge, arching healthy antlers. He trills at you expectantly.  

Genji beats you to the medical ward by seconds. His exhaust vents pumping steam out like a geyser. He speaks quickly, his words fast and agitated. He switches languages rapidly, getting more and more agitated at the blank look the assistant barring the door gives him. He is getting flustered and quickly. His green lights blazed brighter and brighter with agitated arm gestures.

“Genji-Genji!” You rest a gentle hand on his cold shoulder. He rounds on you blindly, eyes electric. The hairs on your arm begins to rise as his dragon begins to awaken just under the surface. His temper cools when he recognizes just who was trying to calm him. You glance over to the trembling medical assistant. “Come- we’ve waited this long. They will get us when it’s safe to.” You assure your friend. Genji nods jerkily, taking your offered hand. He follows you down the hall back to his room. You were both tense and vibrating with nervous energy.

You lead Genji to his room, much like he did weeks ago. Punching in his room code you collapse onto the mountain of pillows he had on the floor for a chair the moment the door closed. You hug his pillows close, trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach “He’s up.” Genji spoke in awe. You crane your neck to look as Genji paces around you. His tone was tight but hopeful. “He’s up- He’s ok.” He smiles down at you, his face the brightest you had ever seen it. He wipes at his eyes and exhales a curse of joy. Dropping down next to you, he sits cross-legged by your side.

“Yes-” It was all you could manage to say. You squeeze his knee in reassurance, your own eyes prickling around the corners. Hot tears threatening to overflow. You didn’t want to admit it to him, to anyone, but you had started to lose hope. How many times had you sat there painstakingly etching each and every angle and blemish on Hanzo’s unconscious face into your memory, just in case it was to be your last time with him? How many nights had you held your breath, eyes locked with the complex monitors and pumps looking for something, hitch in his breath, or a twitch of a finger. Something to tell you he was still there. A wave of guilt washes over you just thinking of how he had woken up alone, how you weren’t there for him.

It’s not like he knew you were here, but it hurt your heart regardless. Doubt hits you. Would he even want you here? He clearly had no intentions of telling about this part of him. He had his crew to support him, and his brother here. “What are you going to say?” Genji asks gently. You feel his warm human hand land on top of yours giving you a comforting squeeze.

“What are you planning to say?” You parrot.

Genji thinks on it for a second, biting the synthetic skin of his lower lip. “Ugh- that’s why I asked you first! I don’t know if I want to punch him for making us all worry, or hug him.”

“I wish I had an answer too.” You confess. “I don’t even know if I should go see him.”

“What!” Genji gasps. “You have to! He’ll be so happy to see you.”

“Genji,” You roll on to your side. “I’m not even supposed to be here.” You nestle into the multicolored pillows rubbing at your eyes wearily. “Maybe it would be best if I went back home. Give him some space to recover. Give whatever this is time.” Your conversation partner goes quiet. His dark eyes, so expressive like his brothers bore into you. It wasn’t judgment. Nothing of the sort. It was understanding and flickers of sympathy.

“Do you want to leave?” He asks. No. Deep down you didn’t, but the high of hearing Hanzo's condition was slowly being replaced with the reality of the situation. The reality of what now? You shrug hiding your face in your arms too ashamed to admit. He lets you stew for a moment. “My brother-” He starts slowly. “My brother is many things, he is prideful and arrogant. Sometimes to the point of being unbearable to deal with. He can be as immovable as a mountain, as you might say bullheaded. ” Genji chuckles. “But, he is incredibly patient, I never noticed it as a child…but now, it’s a trait I envy.” He rubs at his eyes thinking back to the box he found in his brother’s room, the hidden pictures of you and him. He had never seen his brother so relaxed before. He would do anything to keep seeing that smile on his brother’s face. “I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Genji continues. “ just please try to see him once? If you're able to talk to him, do. I can tell you’re special to him, he will do what it takes to make this work.”

You bob your head in understanding, working to swallow around the lump growing in your throat. “I’m scared.” You admit timidly. Genji gives you a gentle pat on the leg.

“It is a scary situation, but trust me when I say you have nothing to fear from Hanzo.”

Genji leaves you at that, you both decided that when they were given that all clear to see Hanzo he should go first. He tries to object, but it was merely a formality. You could see how desperate he was to go. You spend your time waiting in his room, with his dragon Mizuki and her siblings. They could tell you were in distress and tried their hardest to comfort you. Their warm bodies blanket yours, their purring helping drift you off to sleep.

A sharp knock wakes you and your three dragons. They all perk up, ears all twitching towards the door. Akuma growls low in his throat. You open the door to Angie. She beams at you, hand hovering mid-knock. “Ah good! Sorry if you were resting.Hanzo was asking for you.” She steps back to let you out. Mizuki yips shrilly and leaps at the doctor. She catches them gracefully and strokes their head. “You can visit briefly. I am still monitoring him.”

“Right- thank you Angie.” You turn to go.

Angie stops you with a firm hand on your shoulders. “His larynx and trachea are still healing. Talking on his end is strictly forbidden, understand?” You nod. “I’m keeping him for observation for the next week- you are welcome to visit whenever he is feeling up to it.” With that she gives your shoulders a firm clap and lets you go. You walk slowly to the medbay, Hanzo’s dragons quiet and contemplative on your shoulders. For all your anxiety your mind was completely blank. Where would you even start? Knocking softly on the door to Hanzo's private room you enter.

The sigh of relief that escapes is loud in the open space. He turns to watch you from his inclined position on his hospital bed. He looks better. The tubes and wires helping him breathe and heal had been condensed down to just a heart monitor, IV drip, and oxygen. You take in the muted colors of healing bruises on his face and chest. He hardly looked like himself though. His face was clean shaven from surgery and his hair buzz cut short. It wasn’t him, but it didn’t matter. The fire was still there behind his dark eyes. They still screamed strength and perseverance. It was the same look that had attracted you from the start.

Hanzo regards you heavily, his expression gives nothing away as you come to sit by him. His fiery eyes flicker for a moment when he notices the unshed tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. He opens his mouth to speak and winces. Each breath felt like fire in his lungs. Hanzo rubs at his bandaged neck in agony. “You know you’re not allowed to talk.” You chastise him rushing up to grab his water and straw. He waves it away with a frown and sinks back into the thin pillows of his bed. You sit back down, playing with the metal straw between your fingers. “We have a lot to talk about huh?” You ask to break the silence. Hanzo huffs at the understatement of the century. He rubs his sweaty palms across the sheets covering the stumps of his legs. You watch him, he always rubbed at his knees when he was nervous. You reached for his hand not filled with wires and tubes, but stopped. Hanzo grabs your hand before you could pull it back. His large hand covering yours, he was so warm and safe. “I’m sorry.” You can feel yourself falling apart at the seams. A mix of relief and anxiety creating an indescribable feeling in you.

Damn, what were you even apologizing for? Knowing his secret? Learning about the Shimada clan without his consent, especially since he made it clear he had no intentions of telling you himself. Genji hadn’t told you everything, but it was enough to add fuel to the fire of nightly rants with his dragons. You wipe at your face hating how hot your skin felt with tears. Hanzo tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Wha-” He grunts pointing to the side table by the door and mimes writing on his palm. His com and phone sat innocently alongside his gold ribbon and a few get-well cards and dried flowers, all gifted to him by the team. He takes the phone from you eagerly and opens up to his notes app. He writes out something quickly and trusts it at you without hesitation.

I love you, I’m sorry

What little resolve you had left breaks at his admission. You pepper his waxy skin with tear streaked kisses “I love you too- truly.” You whisper into the bandages on his skull. The strong smell of antiseptics not deterring you in the least bit. He catches a stray kiss and turns back to his screen with vigor.

I know I have much to explain, secrets that I’ve held for too long and for no reason. You were never at fault for any of this, I trust you implicitly I have for a while.  

Hanzo swallows thickly, thumbs hovering over the keyboard while you read in silence.

I know I have damaged what trust you must have had in me. If this is too much, if you deem this unsalvageable… I cannot blame- I would never blame you for wanting to step back. If you desire a clean break.

“Hanzo-” He wouldn’t-

But, if you are willing to give me a chance- I will give you everything. If you are willing to wait…

He looks to you waiting. You would either stay or leave, it was up to you. You read and reread his words, both of you trying to ignore the uptick on his heart monitor. You click the phone off and put it on the windowsill. Breathing deeply you stare blindly out the window. You don’t answer with words. Truthfully you think you had any that would express what you felt in that moment. Instead, you take his hand in both of yours. You kiss along his knuckles, brushing your lips along each scar you see, both old and new alike. You knew them all by heart. They had been a calendar of sorts, the mending of torn skin and removal of stitches, your anchor. They were what kept you going on the hardest nights, they kept you knowing that the wait was worth it. You couldn’t think of stopping now, fear be damned. “I’ll be here as long as you need.”

The smile that graces his face was well worth the wait.

[mrevaunit42]

Marco’s Corpse Bride (Starcoween, Corpse Bride AU)

Hello everyone! Mr.E here with the first of my starcoween stories (Starcoween was a holiday event i made up to write slightly darker stories during Halloween but i missed it this year and i still wanted to write some so here we are). Today’s story is the winner of the poll and inspired by @disney-n-stuff corpse bride au drawings. if you have not check them out, you should they are awesome!

So it’s the corpse bride. I mean it’s not a one to one. I cut off some parts, rewrote dialogue, added my own stuff and fit as much of Disney-n-stuff’s version of the story in here as I could. Also this is not the full version. I purposely left out the ending so you all could fill in how you want to this story to end and I won’t be giving this a proper end either. I mean I kinda hinted at an ending where jarco and starco both win but like i said, i wanted you to fill in your own ending. 

So that’s it aside for a very special thank you to my good friend @hains-mae who really did something amazing for this story. She made one epic cover page that is featured below (she’s taking commissions people *cough cough* just saying) that I am really grateful for. Thanks mae!

That’s it for me, I need to go work on the next nova chapter and Monster Hunter au part 1 which was the second highest voted from the straw poll (thank you so much for voting btw I really appreciate the help) have an awesome week and I hope you enjoy the story!

Notification squad: @artgirllullaby @ladyxgilex @hipster-rapunzel @thefandombytes @minthia-ren @isolated-frequencies @nerdymetalhead

Marco sighed tiredly, the muffled yet thick twangs of an out of tune piano floated sadly from beyond the door frame yet sleep eluded the young man.

He rose to a sitting position and folded the moth eaten blanket that his hosts so graciously gave him to sleep with. It was faded and worn with the odd hole here and there but Marco was grateful for it all the same. Once upon a time it must've been so elegant, so revered among its owners. Marco's family would've had saved many months to purchase such a treasure but down here it was as unnecessary as it was old.

The dead had no need for such things....

Marco stood, the guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders as he began to pace the room anxiously.

If you had told Marco that in one day's time (Oh lord it had only been a day hasn't it?) he would've been betrothed to his childhood crush without warning, foolishly wandered into the forest as a queasy and rather humiliating mess and subsequently asked the hand of a corpse bride in marriage accidentally only to be whisked away to the land of the dead.....well he would've called you a rather loony lot.

Yet that is exactly how the still living young man's day began and has currently ended.

Marco awoke the same as he did every other day: Cranky, sleepy and cold.

The Diaz's were a simple, humble middle class family. They lived within their means and the trio were content if not comfortable. Marco's father Mr. Diaz worked as the owner of a modest shop in the heart of town and while the larger, more well off family held an iron grip on the market, Rafael still made reasonable profits. Marco's mother Angie was a seamstress and thanks to a vast network of friends and friends of friends, she often patched and sewed for those who were not afraid to part with their money.  Marco himself had just turned 18 a few months ago and while his parents hadn't spoken of it, he was expected to seek his fortune and secure his future...by the way of marriage.

Marco felt ill at the idea of marriage. It wasn't that he didn't want to get married. The problem, rather, was he pinning for a specific woman to marry. A woman he had never even spoken to in his entire life: Miss Jackie Lynn Thomas.

Miss Thomas was the daughter of a local fisherman and a baker. She was a few months younger than Marco (Her birthday had been yesterday if he recalled correctly) though her family was marginally better off than Marco's (only by slim margin).

He known of her since childhood and while the two would occasional cross paths within the city and attended the same events, Marco could not bring himself to speak to the lovely Jackie. The few times he attempted such a thing either ended in an awkward, tense silence or him droning and babbling about nonsensical topics that ranged from the differences between a major and minor key to the rather disgusting digestive systems of livestock.

Needless to say Marco's chances with Miss Thomas were looking rather grim and while there were several other wonderful women in town, none carried the spark that lit his cheeks ablaze like she did.

Marco groggily made his way downstairs, the dreary weather of his beloved hometown the same as it had been 95% of the time: Cloudy, cold and bleak.

Marco sensed something was off when he found his parents speaking in tense, hushed voices as he approached the kitchen. When he entered the room, the conversation died at once and their gaze shifted from each other to squarely on him, their smiles well meaning but tight. Bad news it seems and bad news that would directly affect Marco.

“Morning” Marco muttered carefully, eying their uneaten food warily “Is something the matter? You both seem rather.....serious.”

“Mijo” Rafael began quietly “We have some news to share...with you.”

Marco nodded like he understood (he really didn't) “I see. And what news is that?”

“As you know mijo my shop has been getting a lot of new customers.”

“Mhm”

“And I thought” Rafael went on sheepishly “It might be wise...to...merge my business....with someone else's....”

Marco blinked in confusion, unsure where this conversation was heading. Initially he was under the impression someone in the family had died but this wildly veering off into  a rather surprising turn of events.

“I...see?” he was unable to keep the confusion out of his response.

Rafael fidgeted guiltily though his son was still unsure why. His father was expanding his business, that was good news....right? Then why were his parents acting like they were planning for his funeral?

“What your father is trying to say” Angie spoke up “is that he has found someone who is willing to cooperate and share resources...under...a certain condition.”

“What condition?” Marco asked slowly.

Marco stood before the altar, still awestruck and dazed from the sudden revelation that he was to marry his father's future business partner's daughter.

The church was drafty as always with its muted unassuming gray brick walls and pale brown pews.

Marco was dressed in his Sunday best: an old, elegant black suit once owned by his abuelo and handed down from Diaz to Diaz for special occasions. Marco himself added a pale, faded white collared shirt with a dark red vest and the most valuable of his possessions, a jet black ascot tie tucked perfectly within his outfit.  

His parents were more informal in their choice of attire but that was only because today was the rehearsal rather than the actual wedding.

Marco tried to keep his breath steady but his stomach churned unhappily. The ground swayed uneasily under his feet. The walls seemed to close in on him, the air stale and stuffy despite the frigid weather that always blanketed the town as the realization that he was to be married to someone he's never even met! HE WAS GOING TO MARRY SOMONE HE HAS NEVER EVEN LAID EYES UPON!

The old church door creaked as an icy breeze filled the halls for brief moment before slamming closed with a dull thud.

Marco could hear his parents gleefully greet the bride's family, content tones and friendly banter filling the once silent halls.

The unexpected groom tried to will his body to follow his parents example but his nerves were frayed and despite his best attempts, he simply remained frozen in fear as soft, timid footsteps approached him.

He could feel the presence of someone behind where  he stood, waiting and watching for his greeting though if it was his future wife or his future in laws the young man couldn't hazard a guess.

Marco gulped down as much air as he could. He breathed slowly, rigidly turning in an attempt to make up for previously rude behavior.

“I am very sorry” Marco apologized, pivoting on his heels with all the effort he could muster “It's a bit drafty you see and I....I...I....I....”

His heart skidded to halt, his cheeks burned with an intensity that matched the glow of the sun as his eyes laid upon the last person he ever expected to see and the one whom he longed for.

Miss Jackie Lynn Thomas stood there, hair wrapped up in a neat yet enchanting bun (her blue streak visible) and a gentle smile danced on her lips. She wore one of the simple dresses she preferred when attending to errands in the city (Evidently it seems Marco was the only one who did not receive the notice that casual wear was allowed for the rehearsal) but to Marco she was as breathtaking up close as she had been from afar.

“Good morning Mr. Diaz” Jackie gave a polite curtsey.

Marco chuckled dumbly in reply “Oh it's just Marco. Mr. Diaz is my father.”

Marco mentally flinched upon realizing the words that escaped his lips but his ears only grew red when he heard Jackie giggle in response.

“As you wish...Marco.” She answered playfully.

Marco rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his anxiety growing each passing moment “Did you know that owls are often considered an ill omen in many cultures?”

“I did not”

Marco gave another timid laugh “yeah...it's silly really. I mean they're just birds! They go hoot, you know? Hoot hoot!”

Marco died the moment he began flapping his arms. He wish he could slap himself but he was afraid to appear more crazed to his future spouse than he already was.

But Jackie nodded as if it was the most interesting thing she had heard all morning “How fascinating Marco.”

“R-really?”

Jackie gave him a soft smile while she nodded in agreement.

“I see everyone is present?” The dull, gravelly voice of the priest snapped everyone out of their respective conversations

“Si” Rafael quickly made his way to the young couple's side “ everyone is present.”

“Then shall we proceed?” The priest looked thoughtfully towards Marco and Jackie.

“Of course Father” Jackie said respectfully.

“proceed?” Marco questioned “Proceed with what?”

“The rehearsal” The priest replied “You do know the vows, correct?”

“I...umm vows?”

“Yes” The priest continued “The traditional vows that every groom speaks to their brides. The vows that bind you to each other as husband and wife. The vows that are spoken at every wedding. Those vows.”

“Riiiiight” Marco chuckled “Of course you meant those vows! I confused myself for a moment, believed you were speaking about some other...umm vows! But yes I do remember the vows. The vows I must speak as to marry Jackie...the vows I shall speak after I...I....I receive the ring! Oh no!” Marco's face fell into mock worry “Darn, I must've left the ring at home! Clumsy me and my forgetfulness. Drat, I suppose we'll have to postpone the rehearsal. Can't practice my vows without a....”

Marco sighed as his father produced a ring from within his vest pocket

“Thanks dad” Marco said with the most deadpan voice he could muster.

“Anything for you mijo.”

“Now” the priest loomed over the young man menacingly “The vows.”

“R-right...” Marco coughed timidly “The...vows....I.....Marco Ubaldo Diaz.....”

The old rotten trees of the forest swayed back and forth as a chilly breeze howled through, the crunching of the dried dead leaves filled the air as Marco angrily and embarrassingly stomped his way deeper into the woods.

“I didn't know the vows” he scolded himself, pulling at his neat hair in frustration “of course I didn't know the vows! How could I know the vows when I barely found out I was getting married 10 minutes before! And dad had a ring?! DAD HAD A RING!? How long had they known about this little arrangement?! Why couldn't they tell me ahead of time?”

Marco let loose his emotions into a powerful yell but hardly a sound was heard as his voice was swallowed whole by dense forest.

“Okay Diaz” Marco told himself, taking a deep breath to relax himself “You're getting married to the girl of your dreams and you are utterly confused by this strange turn of events. That's okay! That's...normal? But you will make the best of it! You messed up the rehearsal but not the wedding! That's...something.”

Jackie's smile flashed into his mind.

“Vows...” Marco whispered as he pulled the ring from his coat pocket “Vows....everyone knows them. They are spoken at every wedding....”

Marco closed his eyes, clutching the tiny band tightly in his grasp.

His mind began to fill with thoughts of the wedding, of those who would be attending: His parents and Jackie's would be there because they had to. Ferguson and Al, two of Marco's best friends, would no doubt show though he was certain the promise of free food would lure them, not the actual event itself. Janna may catch wind of Jackie's attempt to marry her favorite target though he suspected she would behave herself for the sake of her best friend. And Jackie.....Jackie would be there, looking as lovely as the day Marco first laid eyes on her.....she would be waiting by the altar, patiently for him....

the young man took a breath, his nerves calm and steely as the words poured of his mouth.

“With this hand, I will cut off your...” Marco flinched “no no, that's...that's so wrong. Umm with this.....candle? Was there a candle? I'm remembering a candle but I do not remember why I am remembering a candle. Why is there a...am I suppose to light her candle with mine? I am almost certain the ceremony involves a....OH! Yes, there is a candle. Umm with this...candle? Candle. Candle! I shall....light...light.....light...your mother ablaze? That's more than likely....”

Marco opened his eyes as a sigh escaped his lips. The trees towered over him, swaying back and forth under the gentle yet cold breeze while their shade basked him in darkness.

“With this hand” Marco gestured high into the air “I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty for I will be your wine.”

Marco strolled confidently over to the nearest tree trunk, bowing respectfully towards it “Mrs. Thomas, you look absolutely lovely this evening”

Marco nudged at another tree with a sly “What's that Mr. Thomas? Call you dad? Well I suppose if you are alright with it.”

“With this candle? Candle!” Marco repeated, tearing a branch off to use as a makeshift prop “I will light your way in darkness.”

“With this ring” Marco glanced at the simple, plain brand that lay in the palm of his hand “I ask you....to be mine.” and in one fluent movement, he slipped the token of his love onto a finger-like branch.

The wind moaned softly yet Marco made no motion to retrieve the accessory, uncertainty and fear swirling about his head: were the vows correct? They must've been because those were the only ones he could remember.

"Okay" he told himself with a nod " That was perfect and all I have to do is perform it the exact same way with Jackie.

Jackie....

Marco let out a terrified whimper

Marco groaned loudly, clutching at his hair tightly "What am I thinking?! I can't do this in front of Jackie!

Marco sighed disappointingly " She's...she's...and I'm....and I.....I talked about owls! OWLS! I hooted. Who does that?!”

Marco caught the dull gleam of the ring as it swayed teasingly in the breeze, the solitary  cawing of a crow echoed throughout the empty forest.  

“And give me back my ring tree branch!" Marco tugged at the ring but the branch refused to let go, its gripped tight and firm.

“I'm losing to a tree” Marco murmured sadly “I am losing to an inanimate object.....This can't get much worse....”

A chill ran down Marco's spine as, without warning, the branches curled around his wrist.

“Oh? The branches seem to be grabbing at me.” Marco laughed for a moment before the weight of his statement hit him full force “THE BRANCHES ARE GRABBING ME!?”

Marco pulled away but the branches held fast, its grip on the young man growing tighter and tighter with each moment.

“LET ME GO NATURE!” Marco shouted as he frantically tugged at his wrist “I DID NOT MARRY YOU! I WAS JUST PRACTICING annnnd I can't believe I am actually having this conversation....”

The trapped young man planted his feet firmly on the dusty forest floor and prepared to throw his weight backwards in an attempt to free himself when the branches snapped and freed their grip Marco who was thrown back full force.

Marco tumbled to the ground, his suit torn and ripped from the various roots and low branches that littered the forest floor.

“Well that was unexpected.” Marco muttered to himself, rubbing the tension out of his neck.

He rose to his feet, wiping the dirt and any leaves that managed to glue themselves onto his clothing. This was absolutely disastrous. There's no way he could....

Marco felt his blood chill as the earth before him cracked open and without warning, a thin, pale blue bruised arm reached upwards, its hand grasping wildly at the air.

“Oh dear....” Marco murmured, his stomach groaning unhappily as a skeleton arm reached out from the depths of the earth itself and planted itself firmly on the dirt covered ground “Yeah, I think it's time I call it a day.”

The terrified man broke into a fevered sprint, wincing in pain as he collided with the odd branch and tree trunk in his mad dash to freedom.

“the church” he comforted himself “the church is nearby! If I can make it, surely I'll be safe.”

Fear bit at his resolve as the trees seem to elongate before his eyes, towering over him in strange, unnatural angles.

North was West, East was West, South was North. Despite the countless times he had ventured safely into the forest alone, in this moment he had never been so lost and confused. the soft crunching of dry leaves could be barely heard over his heavy breathing as something closed the distance between itself and him.  

Marco flailed wildly in surprise as his foot caught a tree root and he suddenly tripped forward, tumbling and skidding across the ground. Everything ached but terror and adrenaline dulled the pain. He scampered to his feet, unsteadily swaying back and forth as he saw the old stone bridge stretched out before him and beyond the lonely church beckoning him in the distance.  

Marco hardly crossed the bridge when the soft patter of footsteps filled his ears and despite the fright that enthralled him, curiosity called to him. He paused and turned to gaze upon his purser.

He was unaware of the gasp that escaped his lips as he found himself staring at the figure of a woman no older than he....maybe.

Her long flowing blonde hair was done up in an elegant pun with blue butterfly clips and a wedding veil adorning her head. Her eyes were a pale sky blue that seemed to pierce past his mortal shell and into his very soul.  Her outfit of choice was a torn, ripped strapless sleeveless wedding dress with white roses that had seen far better days The skirt split open at the bottom and revealed she was wearing boot-like shoes with heels. At least that's what Marco thought they were. But what had made Marco stop, what made him gasp was not her choice of attire but rather her appearance.

She was deathly thin, her skin a pale blue as if air no longer flowed through her body. One arm was nothing more than bone and while the other still possessed what Marco assumed to be skin, her fingers were long and skeletal. The most curious aspect, however, were the pale pink hearts that covered either cheek upon her face. She was hauntingly beautiful and she was slowly approaching the trapped man.

Marco wish he could say he did something amazing. He wish he could tell some extraordinary tale of heroism and bravery in the face of danger, that he fended off the ghostly beauty, that he was safe in and sound in the church with nary a fearful thought in his mind.

He wish but he'd be lying....

The truth of the matter was as the unearthly specter cupped his face with her surprisingly soft, warm bony fingers, his ring glimmering in the darkness at him, he fainted. Just up and passed out.

The land of the dead was a rather strange place if Marco was going to be honest. For one, he was still alive in such a location and for something that people talked about with such anxiety and dread, it was a rather lovely location.

It was no different than the local pub within the city though it felt brighter, more joyful than any establishment Marco had been to (not that he would've gone to such places of ill repute of course.)

The varied dead from all walks of life and ages long passed laughed and sung. They drank (which was strange in itself) and they told stories of their former lives, not with a tone of regret and longing but with one of satisfaction and contentment.

Well they did before Marco ran a small Napoleonic character through with a sword and began waving the tiny impaled man as some sort of deterrent.

He was quickly caught up to speed by a rather charming, bowler hat wearing, one eyed, strange jawed skeleton named Bonejangles who sang a delightful yet slightly uneven tune in a style Marco had never heard of before. One that told the story of his undead bride.

Her name in life was Star Butterfly. She was peasant girl who did not have much but always gave what she could. She was set to marry Tom Lucitor, the adoptive son of a local merchant and while the two had not exactly gotten off to the warmest of starts, the two gradually fell in love and made plans for their wedding day. Until Tom's adoptive father Toffee had gotten wind of Star's less than noble background. Father and son argued and Tom had decided he was going to marry Star regardless of what his father wanted even if that meant leaving his fortune behind and running away with his bride.

Toffee did not take that well and his revenge was a cruel as it had been cold. He forged  a letter in Tom's name asking Star to meet him deep in the woods where they would elope and as Star waited, alone and unsuspecting, Toffee murdered her.

Her soul did not rest, however, and she waited for the day her greatest wish would come true: To become a bride.

She waited. She waited decades upon decades, through scorching sun and freezing night in her makeshift grave for someone to speak the vows she's always longed to hear.

Which was today it turns out when Marco foolishly recited them and placed his ring upon her finger.

How someone could mange to fit such a large and rather deep lore into a three minute song was pretty impressive and while he wasn't sure how one skeleton could use another as musical instrument, he had to admit that was a sight he would not soon forget.

So Marco's proposal was valid and he was now engaged to lovely corpse of a woman (a statement that really brought rather conflicting emotions to the young groom.) and while he wasn't completely sold, he had to admit Star had this energy that was intoxicating.

Despite her tragic back story, she was vibrant and cheerful. As she readjusted herself to the world of the living (or was it the living dead?) once more, she greeted old and new friends with an eager fever. She asked countless question about everyone was doing, what she had missed as she slept. Laughs, jokes, unnecessary battle cries and fighting stances. It was...nice. For someone so dead, Star breathed life.

And since things were going so well, naturally Marco had to mess it all up.  

It was a tiny lie. A tiny, harmless white lie that shouldn't have hurt anyone....except it had and the person he'd hurt was his new wife.

He hadn't actually expected Star to readily agree to his casual comment about visiting Jackie and letting her know about the new situation he found himself.  Of course she meant it as informing his friends and family about their future wedding while Marco saw it as a chance to find a way to escape the Land of the dead and figure out how to break his oath to the undead bride.

In retrospect, barging into Jackie's home, rambling in a panicked, stuttering mess was probably not the best idea especially given the current circumstances and once the weight of his choice began to dawning on him, his voice slowed, words ceased to flow out of his lips and the crippling shyness began to grip him tightly. What was once a fantastical story about how he married a tree branch and found himself being serenaded by a deep voice skeleton became a murmur about how it wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be before finally drifting into an awkward silence once he realized he was currently alone with his fiance.

She was as beautiful as ever but the reality began to creep up on the awestruck groom as he realized she was dressed in a wedding gown. A wedding gown she was supposed to use for their wedding.

It was traditional as most outfits but Jackie was absolutely angelic in it: A modest yet well kept wedding veil tied to her bun. The fabric that covered her neck and shoulders held simple ruffles, the sleeves were long enough to cover her bare arms but Marco could see her exposed fingers reaching out for him in concern. The bottom of the attire was bell shaped with layers upon layers of cloth cascading downwards like waves upon the ocean and like Marco, Jackie had decided to wear her most prized possession for their union:  a small belt hugged her waist composed of fine string and beads that held her beloved sea shell in the center of the dress.

“Marco?” she asked softly, approaching the shell shocked groom slowly “Marco, I don't understand....what are you talking about? You speak of the dead and corpses singing and marrying trees? And you seem pale....paler than usual.”

“Oh!” Marco snapped out of his stupor “No no no. I didn't marry a tree, I married a corpse that was buried in the ground whose fingers resembled tree branches. I-it's...ah....very, very easy thing to mistake...or....not believe....”

“I....I'm not sure I follow.”

Marco and Jackie jumped as, without warning, the door flew open and in walked Star, her pleasant, polite smile melting into shock and anger.

Looking back, Marco could only fathom how bad it had seemed at the time: Here he was, a groom Star had been waiting for all of her dead life for and he was talking to another woman dressed in a wedding attire.

And instead of trying to clear up the situation when Star revealed that she was in fact Marco's bride, he had dug his grave (so to speak). It turns out the dead are not fond of people reminding them they are no longer among the living or that there were other women that he was supposed to marry.

And for someone who hadn't been alive in such a long time, Star was rather strong. She effortlessly dragged him away from the home and as Marco called to Jackie one last time, a swarm of crows blinded his sight.

The following scolding was no doubt the worst moment in his life: Star was nearly in hysterics, alternating between anger and sorrow as it all came forth: his lies, his broken promises, his real intentions and if he truly cared for his corpse bride.

He said nothing. Courage had left him and in its void, shame filled its place. Guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders as he realized Star had feelings and he hurt her in ways far worse than her death had.

Star finally stopped and sent him away, too distraught to continue the conversation further and thus we are where we began: A human consumed by his guilt and his bride, pained by his actions.

Marco sat up in his bed. He hadn't meant for all this to turn out this way and hadn't the slightest idea how to fix it all. Star was far more fun and wonderful than he'd expected and his moment of deceit cost something he was unaware he valued.

The once lively, cheery tune of the untuned piano was now somber and melancholy and while Marco knew it was simply a song composed in a minor key, he couldn't help but feel sadness at each note held.  

Marco took a deep, calming breath. He needed to fix this. He wasn't acting out of malice but fear wasn't an excuse either.

He made his way out of the bedroom and peeked fearfully into the next room.

The Ball and Socket pub was empty save two occupants: Bonejangles, leaning lazily on his stool and Star, head laid against the aged wood of the piano, her skeletal fingers dancing across the ivory keys.

“Star?”

She made no indication she heard him as she continued to play the same note over and over again while she refused to meet his gaze.

“Look....” Marco began slowly “I....I know you're mad at me....”

“No kidding” She muttered sarcastically “I let my fiancee go invite people to our wedding and I find you with another woman.”

“Well...I mean...”

“SHE WAS WEARING A WEDDING DRESS MARCO!” Star glared “Why was she wearing a wedding dress?”

“Umm...” Marco awkwardly paused “Well....”

“Were you planning on marrying her? After you proposed to me?”

“...that's not quite....”

Star let out a defeated sigh “Look Marco, that hurt. A lot.”

“...I know....”

“I mean...” Star uneasily said “I get it. She's alive, she's cute, you obviously have history with her..”

“I do?” Marco rose a confused eyebrow “I mean I-I do! If you count staring creepily at her from afar...”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Star sat up though she still refused to look his way.

Marco inched his way closer under the watchful eye of Bonejangles and took a seat neat to Star.

The air was thick with an awkward silence that Star refused to break and Marco was unsure how to. This situation had wildly span out of his control and for once, the safe kid had no idea how to get out of it. Jackie still made his heart skip but...Star was slowly doing the same.....

Marco sighed, halfheartedly pressing a random key over and over when an idea formed in his mind.

Carefully keeping one eye one Star and the other on the keys, Marco slowly began to play an upbeat duet his parents would often perform at home. His fingers effortlessly ran up and down the upper register of the instrument, the upbeat song filling the air before Marco paused, glancing towards Star in hopes she continue the call and response aspect of the piece.

She did not.

Marco bit his lip nervously, deciding to go on with his next part of the musical piece. He'd never played this particular song before and was rather surprised how naturally it came to him: E to F, F to D with an E sharp chord coming up next measure. Each note rang with a longing twang as he poured his apologizes, his guilt, his heart into this song.

Star did not respond.

Marco felt dejected. His best effort was not enough and no matter how hard he tried, it seems he could never heal the pain he caused Star.

His masterfully playing devolved into playing the same lonesome note over and over as Star once had. He saw why she'd done it: It was oddly therapeutic in a way. An endless repetitive action that numbed the mind and the regret.

Marco blinked as his single note was joined by another and another. Note after note filled the air as Star's skeletal fingers played.

Marco smiled softly as their individual parts forming into a beautiful symphony. When she rose, he followed. When he played a chord, she filled it. And each note brought the two closer into their own world and before they knew it, what had been a few minutes had stretched into hours as Star's hand escaped her wrist and began running across the keys wildly.

“Whoops” she nervously chuckled while Marco caught the escaping appendage “Must've been a bit too enthusiastic.”

“That's okay” Marco muttered, his warm hand in hers as he reattached it to the wrist “I like your enthusiasm. It's fun”

The two shared a small grin

“It's late” Star stood up “I don't need to sleep but you are still alive so off to bed.”

“I don't know how to feel about getting curfews from my wife” Marco snickered as he made his way past.

Star could feel her cold dead heart thump loudly in her ears, a pale blue blush warming her cheeks as she realized what he had said but as she whirled around to speak, Marco had vanished beyond the door frame and a moment later, darkness plunged his room.

She stood, dumbfounded as shame began to pour into her undead body.

“So” croaked Bonejangles “getting cold feet?”

Star scoffed “All of me is cold Bones.”

“That's not what I mean princess.”

“I know...” she frowned thoughtfully “I...I've waited so long...and he's just so...” The pale blush worsen “But I'm stealing him from the living and he's already got fiancee waiting for him.....Can I really just....?”

Bonejangles leapt off the stool “You can't marry the living darling and he ain't dead. That's gotta change.”

Star remained silent.

“Besides” Bonejangles shrugged casually “Most marriage vows break when death does them part.”

Star was unsure what he was getting at “Bones, I don't understand....”

“Just saying” he waved her away “Who says he can't remarry when he gets down here?”

Star pursed her lips as the skeleton's song filled the air, her longing and guilt pulling at her resolve.

[dangan-ronpa-v3-imagines-blog]

Girls finding their S/O asleep in the tub (SFW)

<< Mod Tenko >>

Kaede Akamatsu. >> You had been in the bathroom for an awfully long amount of time. She became worried and wanted to check on you! >> She gives you a warning before opening the door. >> But upon hearing no reply she quickly enters the bathroom to find you asleep in the bathtub. >> Once seeing your chest rise and fall with each breath she’s filled with relief. >> She walks closer to the tub to feel the waters temperature. >> It was getting quite cold, she didn’t want you to get sick! >> So she was going to have to wake you up! >> But...you just looked so peaceful. >> She decides to leave you for a moment. >> You must have been really tired to just doze off while taking a bath. >> So she kneels beside the bathtub and leans against the tub’s edge as she merely watches you. >> Observing everything about you. >> How damp your hair now was. >> How clean your skin looked. >> And how lovely you looked while sleeping. >> She’s smiling as she too, dozes off beside you. >> But the peaceful napping is cut short the moment Kaedes elbows slip off the edge and into the bath. >> “Aaahhhhhh!!!” >> Her screams wake you up, and you open your eyes to find your significant other soaking wet from her hair down to her torso. >> You can’t help wanting to laugh at seeing her attempt to hold up her floppy, wet hair out of her face. >> It’s a wet, clingy mess. >> Poor girl.

Miu Iruma. >> She needed to use the bathroom. >> “Damnit S/O! I’ve been waiting out here for soo long!!” >> She gets fed up and comes bursting into the bathroom. >> She’s slightly surprised when she finds you asleep in the bathtub. >> But then a little discouraged... >> How did the gorgeous voice of Miu Iruma not awaken you?!? >> ...or the noise of her break in? >> She’s pouty as she makes her way towards you. >> It had been a long day and the both of you were really tired. >> She had been working sooo hard in her lab for the past week and needed some time with her girlfriend. >> So after tying up all her loose ends. >> She quickly comes back into the bathroom to still find you sleeping soundlessly in the bathtub. >> She can’t help but smile as she steps in and gently starts cuddling your body. >> You’re awoken to the feeling of the water around you suddenly rocking as well as the feeling of your girlfriends skin clinging to you. >> She hadn’t realized you had awoken but you decide to stay quiet since, you also noticed how hard she had been working. >> You both end up lying close together in the warm water for a while, closely linked with your arms wrapped around one another. >>  And surprisingly doze back off to sleep. >> But unfortunately you both wake up to cold water and a few annoying cramps >> Nothing really severe, but enough to get you shivering, and heavily wanting to stretch your muscles. >> And after that you end up drawing another bath, due to the order of your demanding girlfriend. >> And as the day passes you both have a surprisingly enjoyable time bathing together. >> But really, anything with Miu is surprisingly enjoyable.

Maki Harukawa. >> You had told her you were going to have a bath a few hours ago. >> But that was hours ago and she thought you were finished. >> Upon noticing the bathroom door open a crack, she strolls in to prepare for her own bath to only find you asleep in the tub. >> She doesn’t understand how someone can fall asleep when submerged in water. >> You must have been really tired. She hadn’t realized how tiring your job was. >> She exits the room and is kind enough to prepare your night garments for you. >> And when she finally returns she is kind enough to fill a bucket with warm water to splash in your face to wake you up. >> You have the most generous girlfriend. >> She informs you that she needs to use the bath, and it didn’t matter if you were clean or not you were getting out of the tub. >> Prior to knowing what your significant other is like you oblige and make your exit. >> However, before you completely leave. >> “S/O. I have left a cup of your favorite drink in the kitchen.” >> .............. >> Yeah you heard right. >> But once noticing that stupid expression on your face she is quick to add for you not to get use to this treatment, before throwing a towel at your face and telling you to move it. >> You’re so lucky to have her in your life. No matter what she might say.

Tenko Chabashira. >> She felt terrible wanting to check on you. >> Even she admits it’s terribly rude to just walk in on someone taking a bath. >> Although, you had been in the bathroom for a while now. >> And she became concerned. >> ”S-S/O? T-Tenko is coming in now...alright?” >> She opens the bathroom door ever so carefully and peers into the room. >> Finding you asleep in the bathtub. >> She instantly has this smile on her face at seeing you rest so peacefully. >> She finds herself standing at the door frame for a while. Unsure why she found you looking so lovely in this blissful moment. >> She enjoys observing you, you are wonderful. >> You’re Tenkos lovely S/O after all! >> She didn’t wish to wake you, so Tenko will leave. >> But first she dims the lighting down in the bathroom. >> And quietly goes to touch the water for temperature. >> It was still rather warm. >> While smiling, she leaves a gentle peck at your forehead. >> Before backing away and exiting the bathroom. >> Closing the door with a soft click. She lets out a gentle sigh of caution. >> She makes her way downstairs to make a nice beverage for you when you are to wake up. >> She also decides to prepare a warm towel for you. >> Since she doesn’t want you feeling cold once you get out of the bath! >> She’s just really considerate because she loves you so.

Himiko Yumeno. [YUMENO-SAN!!] >> She wakes up from a nap of her own, and needs to use the bathroom. >> She’s actually quite surprised when noticing you’re asleep in the bathtub. >> She’s slightly pouty at first glance...since she loves napping in your warmth. >> But quickly wipes it off and strolls towards you. >> She’s a little caught off once realizing you were originally taking a bath,, thus why you are completely naked. >> But she is quick to avert her eyes from anything impure, she is a good girl after all. >> And notices your head resting on the tubs edge. >> From previous experience of napping in the tub herself, she pulls out a string of handkerchiefs from her sleeve and fold them over to place under your neck. >> ....There. Now you won’t have a sore neck when you wake up. >> She’s quite pleased with herself. But she does miss you. >> She understands the greatness of sleeping and doesn’t wish to wake you up though. >> So she’s patient and will wait until you’re ready to wake up. >> But every now and then she returns to the bathroom to make sure the waters at a nice temperature for you. >> She’s actually quite thoughtful when she wants to be. >> But you’ll have to pay her back in warm hugs and extra snuggling later.

Tsumugi Shirogane. >> She’s at first, a little surprised. >> But she finds the situation absolutely adorable nonetheless!! >> And also very creative! She hasn’t read a manga with this turn of events for a long while. >> She’s quite impressed you ‘had been keeping track’ of the mangas she would always tell you about. >> She’s never been in a situation like this before. >> But she thought it would be nice to stay by your side for when you wake up. >> Just like in that manga she once read!! >> So she pulls up a stool to sit by the tub with you. >> And ends up examining your current peaceful state. >> You’re just so lovely. How could she not? >> Somehow she now realizes she should correct some of the measurements on that cosplay she had been preparing for you. >> She ends up becoming quite bored after a few long minutes go by. >> So she decides to grab a manga to read while she waits. >> She had been wanting to finish it for some time now. So this was perfect! >> You’re so considerate S/O!! >> Despite how enticing the story become, she eventually ends up dozing off into sleep as well. >> Later, you wake up to the cold chill running through your body. >> And it’s actually quite nice to see your partner, asleep, seated near you. >> She had good intentions, so you can’t get mad at her. >> You finish up and end up giving Tsumugi a blanket before you attend to other things as the night draws on.

Kirumi Tojo. >> She’s a very pampering partner. >> Out of her love for you and work. >> She’s restocking the towels in the bathroom when she finds you asleep in the tub. >> She had just finished cleaning the bedroom and was now ready to fulfill your needs. >> She finds this as the perfect chance to warm up your towel so you wouldn’t be cold when drying yourself. >> Quickly returning with a nice hot towel. She checks the baths temperature. >> It was getting quite cold, for you had been in there for a few hours now. >> She must heat it up for you! >> She wouldn’t want you getting sick. >> She leaves. To then return with some hot rocks. >> She carefully begins placing them around your frame in places where you wouldn’t accidentally touch any. >> She’s very careful. >> And if you are to move or shift your position, she’d be quick to protect your skin from brushing any of the hot rocks. >> The bath is heated fairly quickly, actually. >> And she exhales with relief, knowing she’d done her job quite well. >> She checks the heat of the rocks, and they’re rather warm now, so they wouldn’t leave a mark if you were to rub your skin against them. >> Pleased. She stands up and begins getting your sleepwear organised. >> Whether you already had them ready doesn’t matter. This girl will properly fold you some newly ironed nightwear and leave it on the bed for you. >> She happily waits for you to finish so she’d instantly be able to serve you.

Angie Yonaga. >> Oh! Angie instantly finds you, the moment she notices you missing. >> You may have told her you were gonna have a bath, but angie was too busy painting to even notice~~ >> She’s quick to run to the bathroom after searching the living room. >> She wanted to surprise you!! >> She enjoys messing with you like that! >> But it’s all out of fun, of course. >> She grips at the door frame and just peeks in her eyes to look into the room. >> ...You’re asleep? >> ...Yes. Yes you are! >> That’s no fun!! >> But she isn’t discouraged!!! >> Nope! Not one bit!! >> She begins pondering of how to awaken you. >> You weren’t all that fun while asleep. >>  .............. >> GASP! Angie knows!! She’ll join you!! >> Yeah, yeah! You won’t mind at all. She’s sure of it!! >> And seconds later you’re awaken in slight shock at that by sudden loud outbursts of the splashing water around you. >> Only to find your still fully clothed girlfriend crouching directly in front of you. >> Let’s just say the night ends with you both happily snuggling together by a heater for warmth. >> You’ll deal with the washing tomorrow.

[oliverorchestrates]

I was tagged by @kilomills

Name: Oliver

Gender: i’m a guy

Star sign: virgo

Height: 5′6″

Sexuality:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ more than likely, i’m just flat out gay, but i seriously don’t know

What images do you have set as your wallpaper: on my phone, it’s a picture of grass (because it’s soft and gentle and doesn’t hurt my eyes) and on my computer its a wallpaper from a webcomic i really like (Paranatural! it’s very good and i highly recommend it)

Have you ever had a crush on a teacher: no

What was your last text message: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ probably something to my parents about landing safely but my phone is super duper toast and i can’t check

What do you see yourself doing in ten years: existing? hopefully existing somewhere not in GA but whatever

If you could be anywhere else right now, where would it be: nah, i like where i’m at right now, really not looking forward to leaving

What was your coolest halloween: uh... i guess the one where someone in my neighborhood had a ‘haunted house’ and even though i was usually too scared to go in, i went into this one. and there was someone under the candy table reaching out to scare people and i stepped on his hand. and then the next day i found out it was this jerk kid that i hated and i was so proud of the fact that i stepped on his hand (i was a mean kid but this kid was also very mean)

What was your favorite nineties show: i... didn’t really watch 90′s shows? i guess if pokemon counts then that

Fave ice cream flavor: cotton candy ice cream (one time i had cotton candy ice cream with pop rocks and that was the best experience of my life)

What was your last kiss: doesn’t exist

Ever been stood up: i dunno if it counts but i invited probably 8 people to my 11th birthday party and only 2 showed up

Favorite pair of shoes: i usually only own one pair of shoes at a time (not including flip flops or fancy shoes), so... my sneakers?

Fave fruit: i really love cranberries

Favorite book: nope. too rude. too many books. rick riordan’s books are great, angie sage’s books are great, i read lots of books and they are all very good

Stupidest thing you’ve ever done: i tried to ride my bike with my eyes closed and i ran into a lamppost

What loser: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And I’m tagging: uhhhhh anyone (i know its a cop out answer i’m bad at this)

[rxdonmyledger]

Earth Angel. (AU!Singer Bucky)

Author’s Note: I ask God that Sebastian Stan let me live. Just for once. God, I died watching his video. This, along with an ad inspired me to write this. I hope you all like it! As always, feel free to comment!

Moreover, I’m creating a new taglist, If you want to be added, tell me!

Warnings: None, just A LOT OF FLUFF. IT’S SO CUTE.

Words: 2,660.

Summary: Your friend takes you to dance so you can meet boys. Little she knew you’d meet a very special one.

PS: I highly recommend listening to this song when this (**) appers: 

And this one when this symbol appears: (^):

The music echoed in the ballroom filled with people. They laughed and sang along the band, dancing. The smoke of the cigarettes ascended, the atmosphere oppressive. 

You followed Angie between the waves of people chatting and sat down on a stool, touching your hair to check if your hairstyle was still made. Your friend smiled at you as she handed you a glass and you sipped it, observing the ambient.

Several couples were dancing following the rhythm of the song, skirts twirling and moving as the girl danced. A group of men were sitting around a table. Some of them were accompanie by women, others just chatted with their mates. 

“Remind me why I am here”

“Oh, c’mon! You’ve spent enough time hiding inside your room!” Angie nudged you on the ribs and winked. “You need to have fun”

You snorted and sipped your drink. Your eyes moved to the band, who was palying beautiful a lively song about a girl and a boy together on the beach. Someone broke a glass and everybody laughed and patted his shoulders. 

It had been Angie’s idea. She was your flatmate and decided you needed to go out and meet new people. Specially boys. You had refused claiming you didn’t want anything with anybody at the moment.

You had met here when you went to the diner to ask for a job. You had moved from Queens to Brooklyn and needed the money as your mother had passed away recently. Angie had asked you if you had a place to stay and offered you to share her apartment as she had a free room. After that, you two became best friends.

People on the dance floor stopped dancing and turned towards the stage clapping as the band finished the song and bowed, introducing the members and the instruments they played. 

The room fell silent for a brief moment before the murmuring of conversation filled your ears. The applaused started again as a new band went on stage with a new singer in the lead.

“Uhhh, he’s pretty handsome, huh? Y/N?” Angie said looking at you and her lips curved into a smirk. 

Your mouth had fell open as you saw the handsome man approaching the microphone, taking it between his long fingers. It was almost as if he was rubbing it gently.  His blue eyes were piercing and observed the audience while his lips curved into a sultry grin when they stopped at you. 

You swallowed hard and he smiled wider, turning to the band before looking again at you, pointing at you with his index finger and you opened and closed your mouth like a fish. The man cleared his throat and everybody payed attention.

“G’night, ladies and gentlemen and thank you for coming here. On the drums we have Tony Stark. On the guitar, Clint Burton.” The audience clapped everytime a name was said. “And I am James Barnes, glad to be here and sing this wonderful song, that I dedicate to the girl over there”

People turned and looked at you smiling and you felt your cheeks blushing. You wanted to disappeared from everybody’s sight as James continued grinning at you, winking before clearing his throat.

“You had fallen in love, huh” Angie muttered as she clapped, raising her eyebrow. You rolled your eyes as the music started to echo. (^) You opened your mouth, astonished. You had heard that song several times and you loved it.

And now, the end is near; and so I face the final curtain. my friend, i'll make it clear, I'll state my case, of which I'm certain. I've lived a life that's full.

James’ voice filled the room and everybody stopped talking, hearing that wonderful song. He had a great talent, you thought as you observed couples dancing, looking at their lovers with a smile in their features.

I've traveled each and every highway; and more, much more than this, I did it my way.

“May I ask you a dance, Ma’am?” said a man as he reached his hand out. You friend looked at you and you nodded, taking her drink with a wink. She said a few words as you came back to your sit, watching as Angie looked over his shoulder to show you an excited grimace.

Regrets, I've had a few; but then again, too few to mention. I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption. I planned each charted course; each careful step along the byway, and more, much more than this, I did it my way.

The song went on and you found yourself not being able to take your eyes off James. He really knew how to be a good performer. His blue eyes shone with the lights on the stage and his hands often went to his slick hair. Sometimes he would close his eyes to enjoy the tune and when he opened them, he looked disoriented.

That was until he found you. Once he did, his lips curved into a radiant smile. His eyes showed affection and warmth and you discovered yourself laughing he winked at you or he made a funny grimace. 

“Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen!” James said bowing as the song finished, watching as everybody clapped and whistle. He presented his mates again and they went down the stage, where the first band replaced them. 

You stood on tiptoe in an attempt to find Angie again. You found her laughing with the man who played the guitar in James’ band and you frowned. Maybe she did not like the first boy. 

“Y/N!” She said waving her hand at you. You smiled and waved back until you saw she wasn’t alone. You smiled faded a bit when you observed the tall blonde man walking behind her, with his fingers tangled with hers. “Thanks honey!” She added taking her drink and taking a sip before pointing to the man. “Y/N, this is Steve Rogers”

“Nice to meet ya’, Ma’am” he said politely, shaking your hand. You smiled and nodded, looking at his calm blue eyes.

“I found him and we started to talk...”Angie said as you looked at her with your eyebrow raised while Steve looked as if he was looking for someone. “He’s really gentle, Y/N”

You raised your hands with a funny grimace and you both laughed like some schoolgirls when a voice made you stay still, frozen. Angie bit her lip, grinning and making fun of you.

“Miss Y/N, this is my friend, Bucky” Steve talked as you turned, Angie’s arm taking yours. “But I think you know him”

You looked at Bucky through your lashes, noticing he was wide-eyed. His mouth opened and he seemed as if he had forgotten how to enunciate words. You swallowed hard and smiled shyly at him, Bucky smiling back.

“It’s a real pleasure to meet the muse who inspired me to sing tonight” You rolled your eyes as he took your hand and kissed the palm. You moved away, laughing. 

“Cheesy line” You replied jockingly and Steve laughed, patting his friend’s shoulder. 

When the music started again, the blonde man look at your friend. They seemed captivated by the other. Steve saluted at you and guided Angie to the dance floor. 

“So...Y/N, right?” Bucky said as he ordered a drink and sat by your side. You nodded and looked at your own glass. You mouth was dry and you felt you whole body like burning. “I’m sorry if I was rude before”

“Don’t worry. I can take a joke” You said and ordered your body to look at him. His face was turned towards you and you felt your legs shaking as his eyes observed your features as if he was memorizing them.

“I...”He blushed and shook his head, taking the glass and sipping.

“What?” He stayed in silence and you huffed. “You can’t say something and stop abruptely”

“I...was gonna say you are more beautiful closer”

You felt your blushing and you turned towards the bar, drinking to hide the smile that wanted to appear in your face. Bucky cleared his throat with a smile and asked about you.

You told him where you were born, surprised that his own home was a stone’s throw away from yours. You told him about your job, assuring him you wanted to be a writer and that you just did it to pay a roof above your head.

Bucky never interrupted you. He was just there, looking at you, paying attention to what you were saying as if he was really interested on it. He had his mouth covered with his hand and sometimes he’d nod.

Then, it was his turn. He spoke about his relationship with Steve, how they became like brothers when Steve’s mum died and how he took care of him. 

“He’s so stupid he never refuses a fight” He rolled his eyes and drank, making you to laugh and cover your mouth with your hand. Bucky turned and observed as his friend was having fun with yours. “Seems we’re the third wheel here, Doll”

You felt your heard dropping as he pronounced the nickname. You thought you’d pass out if he continued talking in that velvety voice. You thought it was impossible you’d like someone in one night. But there you were, willing to talk about whatever just to keep in Bucky’s company.

“Let’s go to a less noisy place”

Bucky took your hand and a bolt went over your whole body. The feeling was amazing. The mixture between his soft skin and his calloused fingertips was enough to make you feel like clenching your thighs. You wouldn’t deny you like Bucky. 

You both sat down and he drummed his long fingers on the table, looking the ambient. You felt panic, thinking he might be bored with you and your mind started to think how to bring up a topic when something clicked inside your brain. You grinned mischievously and Bucky turned, noticing your face, frowning.

“What?”

“I just had an idea” He chuckled and interlaced his fingers, staring at you.

“You have my attention. But I’m afraid, Doll”

“Let’s play Truth or Dare” His brows raised and you discovered an amused gaze. You licked your bottom lip with the tip of your tongue before biting it and he followed the movement. 

“I thought you were a lady” you snorted and he laughed again, running a hand down  his hair, leaning against the couch, placing his left arm over it, nodding. “Okay, girl. Let’s play”

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You said, leaning forwards, a sultry smile appearing in your face. Bucky looked at you wide-eyed and laughed again.

“Damn, Doll. You’re not being subtle. No, I don’t” He replied and you saw his eyes reflecting honesty. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth”

Minutes passed as you both played. They were all innocent questions made to know the other better. You discovered yourself laughing like you’ve never done it, your cheeks burning and your mouth aching from the laughter. 

“Dare” he replied and at that moment, a song started to play (**). You raised and eyebrow and looked at him through your lashes, smiling.

“I dare you to dance with me”

Bucky observed you for a few minutes, his tongue licking his lip before his teeth trapped it between them. He chuckled and closed the blazer, standing up and showing his hand.

“Will you dance with me, Ma’am?” He said and you nodded, taking his hand. He kissed it and placed it against his chest. You flustered, feeling his chest moving against your palm.

earth angel, earth angel will you be mine? my darling dear love you all the time i'm just a fool a fool in love with you

Bucky led you to the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by other couples and made you twirl, your skirt moving around you. His right hand went to the lower part of your back as his left one took yours, bringing you closer to himself. Your eyes never left his and you saw his mouth opening, his eyes wandering over your features.

Earth angel, earth angel the one i adore love you forever and ever more i'm just a fool a fool in love with you

Bucky leant and whispered against your ear, making you to shudder at his hot breath hitting your skin. He swallowed and chuckled before speaking.

“You’re an Earth Angel, Doll” He placed a kiss behind your ear and you bit your lip to avoid the moan that wanted to escape. He moved back and continued dancing.

i hope and pray that someday that i'll be the vision of your happiness Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh , oh, oh, oh

He took a look and smirked as Steve was dancing with Angie, his friend staring lovingly at her. You followed his gaze and started to laugh, Bucky joining you. He made you twirl again and pressed your body against his. This time his face was closer and you could feel his breath rubbing yours.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare” you said firmly. He smiled and whispered again against your ear.

“I dare you to kiss me”

You moved back enough to stare at his blown eyes. The cerulean had disappeared under the black pupil. He was flustered and blushed as you were. You swallowed and cupped his face as his thumb grazed your jawline, his hand placed on it. His nose rubbed against yours for a few seconds and you closed your eyes, enjoying the privacy of this gesture. 

“Y/N...” He muttered and you pressed his lips against yours.

Earth angel, earth angel please be mine my darling dear love you all the time i'm just a fool a fool in love with you-ou

You had your eyes closed. His lips moved softly against yours and you let a growl escape your throat. His left hand had your body pressed against his and yours grabbed his blazer, looking for balance. He moaned softly and his right hand went to your hair. The tip of his tongue went over your lips, inviting you to opened them. You complied and felt it touching yours.

You broke the kiss as the applauses told you the song had finished. You turned to find Angie smirking at you while Steve was doing the same with Bucky. He took your arm and leant.

“Could I walk you home?”

“It’d be a pleasure”

You left the club after telling Angie, who, you were sure, would not sleep in your apartment that night. Outside the temperatures had descended drastically and Bucky offered you his blazer, placing it over your shoulders and hugging you.

The way to your home was made in a comfortable silence, broken only to point certain things. Bucky would start to speak about the stars and you couldn’t stop looking at him, smiling.

“It’s here” you said once you saw your building. You went up the stairs of your doorway and turned to find Bucky behind you, close. He brushed his nose against yours again and you swallowed hard.

“Will I see you again?” you muttered under your breath, gripping Bucky’s arms.

“Yes, please, Doll. If you wish” he added, opening his eyes to look for approval. You pulled him, grabbing his shirt and kissed him again. He softened and you felt his body relaxing against yours. He placed his forehead against yours and smiled. “Is this a one night thing?”

You shook your head and he let a shaky breath out, taking your hands. You kissed him again, realising you didn’t want to stop. His lips were addictive and you needed them. He broke the kiss moments later and you gave him the blazer.

“Thank you for this night, Bucky”

“No, thank you for it” He said nodding and kissed your hand, watching as you opened the door. “Goodnight, Y/N”

“Goodnight, James”

[mollymauk-teafleak]

A Busy Morning

AJ Hamilton and his husband Eli are finally getting used to being parents, their little girl Althea is settling in well and they’re getting the hang of it. They think?

So yeah my girlfriend @sassy-laffy got some good news recently and is just amazing and brilliant in general so I thought I’d write this up for her, seeing as it was about time I wrote a little fic about one of my favourite Hamilton’s and his adorable family. 

AJ Hamilton rolled over when the sunbeams snuck under the blinds and lanced across his eyes in an attempt to escape consciousness for a few more minutes. He flopped over into his other side with a low groan, hoping to ignore the days’ worth of papers and meetings and files that he knew was waiting for him. Just a little longer in bed…

But of course, that wasn’t going to happen.

As he moved, he shifted the whole delicate balance they they’d all fallen into during the night and suddenly a warm, heavy weight fell across his chest and the wind was knocked out of him by his one-year-old daughter deciding to use his body as a bed. He tried not to yelp out loud; his unexpected fatherhood had involved a lot of learning in the job but one thing he definitely knew was that babies didn’t like being woken up.

Eli didn’t get away with it, however, and AJ got a very nice moment where he watched his husband’s wide dark eyes flicker open and a warm, loving light dawn in them as they focused on his face.

“Morning, baby,” AJ grinned, wheezing a little as Althea took up most of the space his lungs wanted to occupy.

Eli smiled sleepily, wondering how he ever lived before he got to wake up to the sight of his little family every day, “Morning.”

“I would lean over and kiss you but…” AJ kept his voice low, gesturing at the sleeping baby on his chest pinning him onto his back.

Eli gave a raspy chuckle, stretching his long arms above his head, easing the sleep out of his muscles before sitting up and freeing AJ. Eli was always better with the gentle touches, lifting Althea and settling her back down between them without so much as a snuffle from the little girl. AJ’s hugs were always a little too fierce, he just couldn’t help himself. More than once, Eli had found his husband with his face buried in Thea’s fluffy cloud of tight, black bouncy curls, having a bit of a moment while their daughter cheeped and wriggled, apparently done with the hug before her Pops was.

“My hero,” AJ chuckled, propping himself up on his forearms.

Eli rolled his eyes fondly, “My damsel in distress…we should let her sleep for a while longer. She needs the rest, she’s had a rough few nights.”

AJ didn’t need telling, he’d been right there alongside Eli as they’d spent majority of the last few nights rocking and trying to soothe Thea as she wailed and cried miserably, sniffling and coughing and whimpering rather than sleeping. For most of her short life, poor Thea seemed to have had disease after disease, ones even paediatrician Eli had to admit were just ‘bugs’. Neither of her fathers would trade her for anything, however unexpectedly she’d come into their lives, but even they had to admit that she was a difficult baby. And it was only understandable that she couldn’t stand to sleep on her own just yet, what with her blindness and her abandonment issues, she needed the comforting warmth of her daddy and her Pops on either side of her while she slept. Both of them were more than willing to make that little concession for her.

“Yeah,” AJ nods, looking down at their tiny little girl with a soft expression, tucking the duvet up and in around her a little more, “It’s been a trip.”

Eli huffed a laugh, his eyes fixed on AJ’s face, “Hey…what was that you said about a kiss?”

AJ looked up, his eyes brightening, “I think I might have mentioned something…”

There was a sense of relief as their lips met, as AJ rose to meet Eli, his hands resting on his shoulders and pulling them closer. One thing they’d found about having a child was that their moments together, their chances to be close where now almost non-existent. AJ felt more than a little guilty for thinking this, now that he had a daughter to take care of, it was hardly fatherly. But going from spending every night so tangled up in each other it was hard to tell whose limbs where whose to nothing was a little jarring for him.

There may or may not have been a slightly desperate text to his Pops and his brother Philip (who seemed to be following in their father’s footsteps with three kids of his own already and plans for another), after he and Eli had been making out on the couch and Thea had come toddling over, deciding she wanted to play the game where she sat on AJ’s chest and ran her fingers through his long hair. For the third time this week. That’s when he’d decided that drastic action needed to be taken.

Both Alex and Pip had given him the same tip (they were used to kind of weird texts from AJ by this point in all their lives) and today, now Althea was finally getting a good, solid sleep uninterrupted by vomiting or sniffling, he had a mind to put it into practise.

Eli was already giving him a look, seeing a familiar expression growing on his face, “I can hear you thinking.”

“I am,” AJ admitted, his grin playfully coy, something that Eli knew was a damn lie. His husband didn’t have it in him to be bashful, “I’m thinking that we could use a shower before the long work day ahead. And, naturally, with climate change becoming such an issue in our world today, wasting water is a huge factor. I have some scientific articles I could show you, actually…”

Eli rolled his eyes, his dark cheeks flushing, “You’re going to pull scientific articles to convince me to get in the shower with you?”

“I might be?”

“You dork.”

Just before they exited, as AJ was dragging Eli out towards the bathroom almost frantically, he did pause and look back at Thea, looking awfully small all curled up and tucked in the middle of that big bed all by herself.

“She’ll be okay, right?” he checked, feeling guilty. Lord almighty, AJ was feeling guilty for going off to have sex with Eli, what on earth was happening to him…

“She’ll be fine, the poor pumpkin’s out like a light,” Eli reassured him gently.

That was all AJ needed, he’d never crossed the hall so quickly in his life.

 Thea woke up feeling decidedly confused, mainly because she was cold.

Why was she cold? Her daddies should be curled around her on both sides, keeping her nice and toasty between them. But as she woke up slowly and began patting around, trying to feel for where they might be…nothing.

Where were they?

There was a moment of blind panic in her chest, tears threatened, she started to shake. But, oh, then everything was okay again. Because she could hear them, there was her Pops’ higher voice and her daddy’s lower baritone, their laughter ringing out from a little way away. That sound alone was enough to calm her down. She trusted her dads implicitly, even in the dark world she’d lived in all her short life, their voices and touches and kisses were her guide, her light.

So, she wasn’t scared, now she was just a little offended. Why on earth where they having fun without her, laughing and messing around but leaving her all alone? It was just plain rude.

And she was going to fix it.

Thea had learned to toddle very quickly, AJ and Eli had both been shocked by how quickly she went from crawling to getting around on her own two feet, though she still preferred to be carried.

But now it was an emergency. Thea rolled herself out of bed like a little hedgehog, landing on her feet and off she went, her sweet face set in suspicion. She got to the bathroom pretty easily, keeping one hand on the wall to guide her though she got very good at remembering the layout of the apartment very quickly. AJ and Eli were always very careful not to move the furniture so she could get around with safety.

The bathroom door was open and she could hear her dads even better now, they were laughing loudly. Pops was always so silly, always making Thea and Daddy laugh, doing silly voices and tickling and singing for her. He was singing now, she could hear, and she got even grumpier, why was she being left out?

She could hear another noise, a regular rapping, like the rain daddy would hold her up to the window to listen to sometimes because it soothed her when she felt bad. Thea decided to ignore that, she was more preoccupied with their voices, that was what she wanted to get to. That’s what she sought as she moved through the bathroom on her hands and knees, jumped up the little step that she felt there and moved past the weird crunchy sounding curtain that was there.

And then Thea fell on her butt with a loud shout of shock.

Why was she all wet?!

 AJ and Eli were more than a little surprised to suddenly find their daughter crashing through the shower curtain, tumbling to the floor and suddenly finding herself taking a shower whole still in her pyjamas. They’d been a little busy kissing and it brought the mood down ever so slightly. Although in moments, they were both cooing and giggling helplessly at their little girl looking completely and totally ticked off, her face set in a grumpy pout, as her hair plastered to her face and her little space rocket patterned footie pyjamas soaked through. She didn’t cry, she just folded her arms and huffed, looking for all the world like someone better explain why it was raining indoors and do it fast because she is very cross.

She was quickly rescued by Eli who carried her out and cuddled her up in a big fluffy towel and covered her in kisses while AJ tried not to laugh too hard, petting her curls and trying to tease them back into their usual bouncy life.

 And the rest of the Hamilton and Burr families got their Wednesdays off to a great start when they were texted a frankly adorable picture of Althea Hamilton, wrapped up in a white towel like a polar bear cub and a soaked onesie, with an expression that could curdle milk.

Angie’s response was, “God, you can tell she’s taking after you, AJ.”

[scribsallaround]

The Church Interlude

Background: Angelica and John Church married straight out of college and had a daughter named Catherine. He dies of cancer 3 years later. Skip another 3 years, Angelica meets Lafayette and he becomes her first boyfriend since John died. Without further ado, I present the Church Interlude. He'd gone peacefully in his sleep in late May. His favorite time of year, and his favorite month. She showed him pictures of Catherine and sunsets and his favorite things, but he never saw them, of course. He was practically in a vegetative state by the time he finally passed. She screamed and cried and rocked her baby with silent tears, staring into her eyes that so resembled his. She wanted the child to know her father, but that wasn't an option. It wasn't long before the day rolled around again. This year would mark the 5 year anniversary and, per usual, she wasn't prepared. She gradually grew worse and worse in the week leading up and, that morning, curled into a ball and sobbed. And that's how Lafayette awoke to her shaking body on May 28. But he knew what was happening and simply wrapped his strong, comforting arms around her and let her sob into his chest. Once she wore herself out, she silently slipped out of bed, and he followed suit. He changed on his side of the room while she got in the shower, and gave her privacy, going to wait downstairs, browsing through the pictures of his love and John and Catherine. Usually, one of Angelica's sisters would come over and watch Catherine, who knew very little of the significance of the day, but Lafayette assumed he would take care of the little girl while her mother visited John. So he was understandably taken aback when Peggy Schuyler knocked on the door. “Hey Laf,” she greeted with a sad smile. “How's Angie holding up?” “She's…alright, but why are you here?” She snorted indignantly. “Umm, rude.” She strode past him into the house and plopped into the couch, leaving him to close the door behind her with a very confused expression on his face. “I'm here to watch my favorite niece.” “But I thought I was watching Catherine,” he told her, even more confused, if that was possible. “Well you thought wrong. She called me last night to make sure. I come every year.” “Are you sure you heard her right, because-” “She did,” came a soft, somber voice from the stairs. Angelica ascended, seeming way too old to be 27. Grief matured her in a way that made Lafayette squirm with discomfort. She didn't deserve all this hurt when she was still so young, with so much to live for. It just made him want to hold her in his arms forever, or at least until she looked like her normal happy, bubbly self. Immediately, he went to meet her at the bottom of the stairs, gentle kissing her cheek. She tried to smile, for him, and he saw the twitch of the corners of her mouth, but other than that, she just looked exhausted. “Hey sis,” Peggy murmured gently, squeezing her older sister tightly. “Am I watching Kit-Kat?” “Yes,” she answered softly and, before her boyfriend could get a word in, she turned and gently held his hands. “I was hoping…well, would you maybe…come with me?” Go with her? That was…unexpected, and Lafayette couldn't quite figure out how he felt about it. He was happy, jubilant even, that she would want to include him in one of the most tender memories of her past, but he didn't know if he was ready to meet John. His girlfriend’s late husband was always a matter that made him anxious, looming in the shadows like an expectation to live up to, a goal to reach, even if she had assured him months prior that she didn't expect anything but for him to be himself. Still, he knew that meeting John was a privelage, and that it was almost essential in order to continue dating - and sleeping with - his dark-skinned beauty. Her eyes widened with fear as he hesitated, and she snatched her hands from his quickly. “I’m sorry, I-I shouldn't have asked so much fr-” “Non non! I didn't mean…I don't…” he sighed, gathering his wits and gingerly bringing her hands to his lips. “Mon Ange, it would be the greatest pleasure to meet John. Of course I’d love to go with you.” A smile - a REAL smile - flushed her face, and she kissed his lips, gently but earnestly. “Thank you. He’d want to know I was happy.” She was happy. That meant the world to Lafayette. She said she was happy with him, and dear God, did it send him over the moon. “Alright, love birds, don't you want to be gone before Kit-Kat wakes up? I still need to make breakfast.” Peggy smirked, arms crossed and her hip popped out. Angelica almost chuckled, and Laf let out a huff and shook his head in amusement. The youngest Schuyler, and all the other Schuylers too, were like family to him at this point. “You're right. Take care of my baby girl, we'll be back in a bit,” Angelica told her sister, giving her a final peck on the cheek before interlacing her fingers with Laf's and leading the way outside. “Do we need to stop for anything?” he asked, twiddling his thumbs. He wasn't used to being the passenger, but Angelica insisted on driving, and he didn't have anything to do with his hands considering that taking out his phone would have been incredibly rude. “No, I have flowers and…a blanket in the back.” He tried not to show his surprise, but uttered a simple, ‘oh’. Then, after a moment, “How long do you want to stay? Should we pick up lunch?” “Er…sure.” It wasn't something she usually did, but it didn't seem like a bad idea. The blanket was because she usually just lost the strength and the resolve to remain upright, and she didn't feel like sitting on the grass for an hour, crying. A picnic definitely did sound like a better idea than her annual sob-fest, and so she turned at the next exit towards the store. She needed him, Lafayette, beside her. This year, there was no question about whether she should go or not. She had to, and he had to be at her side. Lafayette, on the other hand, felt intrusive. “You don't have to if you don't want - I just thought maybe you'd want something to eat if you got hungry. I want today to go as smoothly as possible for you.” “I know. I want food,” she agreed with a little note of finality in her voice. Sitting back in his seat, Lafayette turned to watch out the window, and they stayed that way until stopping at a rather empty grocery store to pick up some sandwiches, and they were on their way again. “Hey John,” Angelica sniffled quietly to the tombstone as she laid out the blanket and sat gingerly, legs tucked neatly under her. Lafayette lingered behind her, a bit hesitant and fearful of interruption. His hopes of remaining as nonchalant and invisible as possible were, however, dashed, as Angelica introduced him. “This is Lafayette.” She wanted to continue, to gush about all they'd done and how happy the Frenchman made her, but it felt like a betrayal somehow. She had to remind herself that John wanted her to move on, but even moving on felt horrible. ‘He wanted this for you,’ she repeated over and over again, almost like a mantra. “Hello, John,” Lafayette greeted, concealing any trace of uncertainty he had as he sat beside Angelica, a little clumsy while attempting to fold his long limbs into a comfortable position. Once situated, he continued. “Angelica’s told me a lot about you. All good things, of course.” Angelica couldn't help but smile at his effort to make small talk. It meant so much to her that he would accept the unexpected excursion so casually, easily adjusting to the situation. His flexibility was one of the things she admired about him. “Lafayette and I have…well we've been dating for a few months and I…I'm happy,” she murmured with a smile, taking Lafayette's hand and squeezing his hand tightly. In return, he raised her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to its back and letting it rest softly on the blanket. There wasn't really much to say after that. Well, there was one thing. A few things. Too many things. Things they didn't feel they should share, things they feared to voice in front of the other, things that just didn't coincide with the time or place. So they sat in silence, trapped in their thoughts although they both stared intently at the plain black marble headstone. Finally, Angelica stood, relinquishing his grip to go find a water spout for the flowers. While Lafayette cut open the packaging, freeing the bouquet and beginning to trim the awkwardly long stems, he heard the sound of gushing water and a squawk of surprise. He whipped around just in time to see his girlfriend struggling to spin the dial and cut off the flow of water. But her legs and shoes were already soaked. “Crap,” she whined glancing around until she caught Lafayette’s eye. “Are you okay, ma cherie?” he asked, brows furrowed in sympathy. “Yeah, I'm…alright, I guess,” she sighed, shaking the excess moisture from her hands. “I'm going to go clean up.” “Do you want me to go with you?” “No, I've got it. Sorry.” “You have nothing to be sorry for. I'll be here when you get back, mon coeur.” She smiled softly and picked her way through the grass, padding off down the sidewalk, leaving Lafayette alone on the blanket with John. “I worry about her a lot,” he admitted, much to his own surprise. “She has so much hurt from you and now…she doesn't know yet, but her father's sick. Philip is really sick, John, but he made me promise not to tell her when I went to visit him alone a few weeks ago. You see, I asked him a very important question, and now I have to ask you. I need your permission to ask Angelica's hand in marriage.” He was glad to finally get it off his chest, and he let out a breath he didn't know he’d been holding. “It's soon, I know, but I love her. I love her with all my heart and soul, for her torn trust and her aching past. I just want to help her, John. If I could take it all away to bear it myself, I wouldn't flinch, wouldn't hesitate. I just want to make her happy. And I…I don't want to sound cocky o-or rude, but I think…well, she says it all the time…that I make her happy. And I can't even put into words how happy that makes me. She and Catherine…they're my world, John.” He paused a few moments, waiting for God knows what. Lafayette surely didnt know why a pang of surprise hit him when nothing changed. Sure, he heard the wind in the trees and a few birds here and there, but that was all. Nothing out of the usual. He let out a sharp laugh, smiling sheepishly at the headstone before him. “What am I doing. Talking to a headstone…” he mused. “I'm back.” Angelica's voice startled him, and he tried to cover up the jolt he'd given when it pierced his thoughts. However, she giggled when she sat next to him, leaning into his shoulder and sighing contently. He wrapped an arm around her and rested his own head atop hers. “He was a good man,” she muttered, and at first Lafayette thought she was talking to herself. “He loved Catherine.” “He was a good father,” Lafayette chimed in quietly. Just by looking at pictures at the Schuyler-Church household, it was obvious how much John had adored his family. Shifting through the pictures in the attic had given him an even more in-depth look at what kind of person he had been, and what kind of person Angelica had been. Kind of a stereotype, in all honestly. There were pictures of him smashing ice-cream into her face, selfies from the NYC boardwalk. Roller coasters, beach trips, vacations, and more portrayed the younger couple in their highschool years. Engagement announcements, wedding shoots, pregnancy pics, and family photos with Catherine dominated the next few years and then…almost nothing. But Lafayette knew why. In the last few pictures, John’s hair was visibly thinning, Angelica looked like she'd aged 4 year in only a fourth of the time, and Catherine…well, she didnt change a bit except grow up. They always made him smile sadly. He couldn't say he'd never wished to have been there. Once in awhile a thought that made him shake his head in guilt permeated his mind;’What if I had been with her instead of John?’ He knew it was horrible, because it made him FEEL horrible. But the thoughts remained. Would she have been happier? Would they be married? Have a few kids? His stomach churned at the thought, though he couldn't tell if they were ecstatic butterflies or regretful worms. Either way, he didn't like it. It was a few minutes before she spoke again, and it was only after she let out a breathy laugh. Feeling his curious gaze on her, she said, “Did I ever tell you about the time John fell asleep while he was supposed to be watching Catherine and the only reason he woke up was because…” The look on his face made it obvious he wasn't familiar with the story, and she let out another laugh before restarting. “Catherine was probably 4 or 5 months old, and I think it was my first BUSY day back at work after maternity leave, and I was just exhausted, so I told him he'd better watch Catherine while I slept, because she'd just woken up from a nap and there was no way she was going to sleep and time soon. So last I saw, he was watching animal planet with Catherine in the living room while I go up to rest.” “Next thing I know, I hear a very worried John calling my name as he comes upstairs. He fell asleep, and she decided to snack on the pen in his pocket,” she laughed. “Had an eye for fine dining even at 4 months,” he crooned, and she only laughed harder, earning strange glances from other visitors as she covered her mouth with her hand and squeezed her eyes shut. It was by far one of the best ways to see her. She looked happy, and content. She looked like a teenager again. They ate their sandwiches and chatted idly. Angelica told him stories, and he told her about his family. It was nice, certainly peaceful, but still humorous. It was by far one of on the nicest experiences he’d ever had. It would change his life. By the time they finished lunch and started getting ready to leave, the mood had lightened considerably, and they had both adorned wide smiles while they packed up. “Can you take this to the car?” she asked, handing him the bag with all their things. “Of course, mon coeur. The blanket too?” “No, I've got it,” she smiled, squeezing his hand. “I'll be done by the time you bring the car around.” “Alright, I'll be back soon.” He turned and headed off to load up the car, leaving her alone once more. She watched him walk away with a grin before sighing and turning back to John. Sitting down, she couldn't wipe the smile off her face. “I love him, John.” The words spilled past her lips before she could stop herself and she didn't want to stop. “For years and years I wondered how you could ever expect me to move on from you, but I think…John, I really think he's the one. I haven't been this happy since before we found out you had cancer. I could never have asked for a better second chance. Catherine absolutely adores him. So does my family. My father is happy that he works for Washington, my sisters love his sense of humor, he's just…he's perfect. He's not you, but…” She shook her head, the crooked smile still presenting itself. “He's perfect.” “Are you ready?” Lafayette asked simply a few minutes later, watching Angelica fold up the blanket. “Yeah,” she responded with a nod. She felt more free, almost. like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She draped the blanket over her arm and stood on her tip toes to give him a quick but earnest kiss, and his arm wrapped around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest as they turned and left. It was then that he realized something. The usual dreadful feeling of jealousy or guilt that usually came at any mention of John had left him. The entire time they had retold stories of their younger years, he hadn't felt it once. They had turned the haunting pain to joy, thinking of the good rather than the bad, and unintentionally showing each other that it was okay to remember their loved ones without necessarily feeling horrible. They both felt better, liberated. The sign Lafayette had waited for didn't come through a voice or some strange happening that could only have been power from beyond the grave. Instead, it came in a form that was far more crucial to their happiness. It came in their peace of mind. That was his sign.