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munson-blurbs · 9 months

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.

Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying

WC: 8.2k

Chapter 14/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.

Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home.

Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal.

Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos.

Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day.

Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface.

“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”

You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight.

Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”

There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.

“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”

“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”

“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”

He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.

Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.

“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”

Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work.

“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus.

Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No…that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.

“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.

Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.

Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you.

“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it.

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.

He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”

He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two.

You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.

“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck.

“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.

As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning.

“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.

You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.

Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.

You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day.

“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates.

Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. “Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.

It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.

It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.

“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”

“Eds?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”

You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”

“Sounds messy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. “He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”

Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”

“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”

“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite.

You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”

“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”

“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”

“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling.

“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place.

To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water.

Could Corroded Coffin play again?

It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on.

We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too.

He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light.

Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—

“‘Lo?”

Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”

“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”

Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.”

Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”

There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.”

Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”

“Mhm.”

“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”

Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”

“Of course.”

“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.

“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”

Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”

“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”

“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers.

“Did your friends go?”

“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”

Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”

“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.”

“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.

“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”

Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break.

Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get.

He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference.

“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”

“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief.

“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”

Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”

Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.

“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”

Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”

The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.

“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”

The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.

You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.

Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.

“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe.

He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch.

“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning.

A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.

“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.

“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.”

“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.

Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”

Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.

“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think.

But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him.

Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.

“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”

Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”

“Not you.”

You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.

“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”

Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.

“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs.

“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.

“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”

“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key.

Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again.

“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”

He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings.

“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”

Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”

Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”

Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right. You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson.

“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”

Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.

“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.

“For what?”

“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”

You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.

“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”

Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.

As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.

“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.

Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”

“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”

“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!”

Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie.

Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’

No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again.

“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort.

“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head.

Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.”

Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida.

“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys.

Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand.

With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?”

He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”

The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat.

Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”

Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that.

“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”

But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.

Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”

Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”

There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.

“Yeah. I can stay.”

Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.

You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long.

“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”

“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one.

“Being in a hospital?”

He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”

The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.

“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”

“But what if Jeff needs—”

“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning.

Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful.

You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…

You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then.

The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders.

“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.

“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion.

As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”

“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”

Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–

“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”

Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”

“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.

Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.”

There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment.

“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”

“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns.

Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner.

He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”

“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this.

It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.

Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.

“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”

You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”

There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.

It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.

“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”

“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.

“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.”

“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”

Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister.

The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.

“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”

Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.”

“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.

“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent.

“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.”

Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations.

“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”

“I mean, I—”

“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”

And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.

“I love her.”

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oval3000 · 6 months

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Chapter 2

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This story might suck idk)

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

Jacob slammed one of the medicine drawers close after getting the bottle of pills from a specific patient. "I don't know what miracle came down here, but we haven't had an accident in a month." He said to a fellow nurse standing next to him.

"Don't jinx it," she said grabbing the pill bottle from his hands.

"You know," he stared at your section, watching as you typed what you needed into the computer," ever since she started working here, König hasn't bashed anyone's heads."

"Well it's only been a month since she started working here, I wouldn't be relieved yet." She said, popping two pills into a Dixie cup.

"Yeah well I'm very optimistic about this." He got up and walked away. "Oh if the drawer gets stuck again, just bang on it a few times."

"It would be better if they just get new ones," she sighed, walking away towards her row of patients.

He rolled his eyes, "please they're too stingy to buy new bed sheets."

You have been working here for a month and so far everything was okay. You do what you need to do and things go smoothly.

As for König, he hasn't said or do anything towards you. You honestly felt like they were fooling you by telling you all those stories about his past nurses and guards.

You learned more about the staff names on all floors. König's two guards are named Eli and Gabriel. They both make sure that nothing happens to you aswell as any other staff.

You met Dr. Smith. You first impression of her was a little stiff. Mainly because she was direct and serious. She doesn't really make small talk to any of the nurses only the administrator. She also doesn't really fond of you. Well it's not like she hates you, is more of she critics anything you do. From the way you gather the medical supplies to the way you check patients vitals. During her visit with König, you stay outside the room so you don't know what goes on in there.

You saw when she exited the room alongside Eli and Gabriel, taking König back to his room. You didn't need to look up to know that Dr. Smith was walking towards, her heels made it obvious. "He will no longer take his usual calming medication, he'll take this one." She gave you the doctors order.

"benzodiazepines?" He was fine with his usual one.

She looked at you with her eyebrows forward "Yes. Is there a problem."

"Wouldn't the short term use cause him more problems compared to how he is now. I mean, he's been doing good lately and his oth-'

"Are you a doctor (Y/n)?" She tilted her head as she gives you a serious stern look.

"No."

"Right, I call shots for what is good for my patients. So if I tell you to order his new medicine then you order his new medicine! Is there a problem!?" Her high pitch tone caused the other nurses to look at you.

You look around mentally slapping yourself in the face. Of course she knows more than you, you are just a nurse. "No, Dr. Smith. I'll order them asap."

"Good. Make sure that his primary physician knows about it too and next time you question me, go back to school to get a lab coat. You are a nurse, you do what I say."

She left leaving the echo of her heels scraping the white tile floors. You cursed under your breath while picking up the phone. Calling in orders for prescription is a pain in the ass. Well the hospital it is, you're not familiar with a psychiatric hospital. The last thing you need is to be at hold for three hours trying to get it through.

"We need medical attention at room #526!" You heard Eli. You quickly ran to König's room and saw Gabriel on the floor, holding his mouth as blood was coming out. You turned your head to take a look at König. He was standing there with blood on his nuckles. He's tall, you never got a good look on how tall he was. This man is a mountain an actual mountain.

"What happened?" Jacob entered in seeing the mess.

"I need gauze pads and bandages.' You said holding onto Gabriel. König saw as you attended him. You're his nurse not Gabriel's. You should be attending König not him. The other guards came in to help Gabriel getting up while the others trying to hold König down. Jacob came in with the medical tray. He flicked a needle, trying to get any air bubbles out. You got up as they took Gabriel out, "what are you doing?"

"Everytime he does this, we have to put him down" He made his way towards König while two other guards were trying to hold him down. Compared to the guards themselves they looked like little children against König.

You went in front of Jacob, "You don't have to do that. It will make him think more irrationally. Please he is my patient."

He lowered the needle down giving you a sigh, "Fine. I'll go make a report. But you still can't be here unless two guards are present."

"Okay." The two guards let König's arms go.

Eli and Jacob left to talk to the administrator. You picked up the gauze pads and bandage from the trey.

You haven't made eye contact with König. You've always been too nervous about that, but you had to see him to examine him. You saw him, you saw his face. He had stuble. His features are strong and sharp, his jawline looks like it can cut anybody. He had scars on his face one through his mouth and the other one through his eye. His eyes are blue a nice clear blue, which stood out against his dark under circles. He was probably the most handsome patient you have ever seen. No, not patient, the most handsome men you have ever seen.

You walk towards him, slowly. You looked up to him, your face aligned to his torso . His white t-shirt was snuged and hugged all his curves on his abdomen. You can see the outline of his perfect abs and chest area. His biceps make it look the arm holes of his shirt are going to pop open. His hair was a perfect shade of brown, almost golden. Like before, it wasn't long or short, it was a good length, enough to make a little lazy ponytail.

You stuck out your hand as he placed his on top of yours. Your hand looks barley visible compared to his. You took a peace of gauze and dabbed it on his bloody nuckle. He didn't have any wounds from the punch he gave grabriel. If anything, the blood you are wiping away is Gabriel's.

König stared at you. He saw how concentrated you are with him, how gentle you are with him and how carring you are to him. The fact that you stood up for him from getting sedated, it was a like a call for him that you are his officially.

I mean he did it for you. No one knows the other half the story, they always accuse of the one that looks guilty. When Eli and Gabriel went to take him back to his room, König heard the comments they made about you. All the comments made by Gabriel.

Sure, Gabriel is nice to you, but he looks like a jerk and he is one. He's nice to you, but behind your back he thinks you are an object. Talking about how he wants to take you, not for a date, but for a nice dinner so that he can fuck you later in his car and most likely never talk to you again afterwards...unless he's desperate for sex again

König couldn't let that slide. Talking about you like a sex toy. Talking about you like you don't have emotions. Yes, König has killed men and women that don't really deserve it, but you. Someone that stood up for him. That attends when he needs or wants something. He wanted Jell-O during lunch, but no one was giving him one. Then you came inside the dining room and saw that he didn't have Jell-O like the rest so you gave him one. It's like you read his mind. You don't deserve to be treated this way. It reminds him of himself when he was a kid.

Being bullied for just being nice, for being who he is. He wants to protect you that's all he wanted to do. So he punch Gabriel after hearing his plan to seduce and fuck you then leaving you alone for yourself without a care in the world. He was easy, just one punch and he was down on floor holding his bloody mouth.

You cleaned him up and sat him down on his bed. He wanted to grab your waist and pull you closer to him. To kiss you as a thank you.

He was never lucky with the women, who would be with someone who's a looser. He remembers the time in high-school when girls will ask him out only to laugh at his face when he thought they were serious. Before he left to go to the military he met a girl. The girl just wanted some free drinks so she talked into him for some free stuff. He lost his virginity to her and felt as if he found the one. But to her he was her wallet, a way to get free things and rides for her and her friends. He bought her flowers, teddy bears, chocolates. Took her out to romantic dates that he tried so hard to assemble. Only to walk in on her having sex with another men, in his bedroom on his bed in his place that he pays for. He hoped that she was just drunk or scared..maybe, but no.

"Seriously König, you thought that I cared about you? I mean you are not even good at sex. I was just using you for the free stuff. I just wanted free drinks jeez! It's not my fault you couldn't take a hint."

He saw how they both laughed at his face. How they both just sat there naked, laughing at him as if he was the punchline to a joke.

"Believe me I never wanted this to happen! Especially after getting that dam abortion. But it doesn't matter cause you paid for it."

She wanted money to buy a new dress. She used it to have an abortion. He felt tears running down his face. They didn't feel bad, no, they laughed harder at him at how pathetic he was.

"Why would I even be with a looser."

He remembered how those kids would push him down the slide. How they would rip away his comic books. How they broke everyone one of his toys.

"Looser!"

"Looser!Looser!"

his fist turned white, he felt his fingernails, cutting deep into his palm. The girl he thought was the one was taunting him along his boy toy. He walked up to them. They expected him to bawl like a baby and beg for an apology. Instead, he choked her. His hands gripped tight around her neck. He felt some punches coming from her boy toy, telling König to stop, to let her go.

He saw as the life of her eyes went away. He heard as her neck cracked and dropped her back on the bed. He turned the guy, choking him to death aswell.

He hid the bodies, ran away, joined the military and found a new way to live.

You heard other male voices coming from the elevator and the administrator coming in. "What happened!?"

"He attacked Gabriel." You said to him, you saw what was behind him, other doctors.

"Put him in a straitjacket." He pointed to König

"What no!" You said getting in between him and König.

"Excuse me!?"

"Putting him in a straitjacket isn't going to solve anything."

He crossed his arms while looking down at you "Doing nothing will solve nothing, (Y/n)!"

You turned to König who had a stoic expression "I know, but I'm sure there are oth-"

"What are you again, (Y/n)?" he blurted out.

You knew where this is going. Twice in one day, you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "A nurse."

He gave you a small smirk, the same one Dr. Smith gave you. "Exactly. A nurse. I'm your superior, you don't get to tell me what to do. Your job is to take his vitals, and give him medication not to throw orders around! Do I make myself clear!" He stepped closer to you. You wanted to back away, but you felt frozen. He was directly infront of your face. "Now, move aside so we can our jobs!"

You looked down on the floor. You never felt so light headed as you did now. The other voices coming from them were echoes. You felt nausea and sweating. Your heart felt like it was pounding from your chest, but it sounded like a blur. "S-sorry.. sir." You always feel week when people yell at you.

"Next time you do something like that, you're out of here, (Y/n). " He said as you all watched König being put in a straitjacket.

The administrator, Ben, saw König. He was taken back a bit. The look he gave him. As if he was killing him right on the spot. König no longer had the stoic expression, he gave him a death stare.

Who does he think he is to yell at you for being nice to him. To threatened her. They are all the same. Everyone here is all same. The same kids that shoved him around the boys bathroom when he was 10. The same as those girls that laughed at him that laughed at his face.

But instead of him being the victim, is you. You're so weak and innocent, how can someone treat you like that.

But it's okay because you'll have König by his side. He'll make sure to save you.

To care for you.

To love you.

To make you his.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #fanfic #yandere konig #könig #konig #konig x reader #könig x y/n #yandere könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig x you

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smusherina · 18 days

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yard work - chapter 8 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): not so much homophobia in this one! not even cigarettes!

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 9

A snowball hit you on the back of the neck. Squealing like a pig and whirling around indignantly, you caught Kylie's eyes across the yard. Softball had made her aim dangerous. Luckily, you had one big advantage.

You lifted your arms above your head, miming a rearing bear, and charged towards her all the while bellowing like a beast. She giggled and began running away, rounding the pool. You gave chase, not even having to pretend to have a hard time since she was ridiculously athletic for her age, but eventually caught her. You hauled her into your arms and into the air, spinning around while cackling maniacally. She laughed and screeched in joy as you shook her around, screaming once you intentionally fell into the snow.

"I won!" She yelled in your face, cheeks rosy from the cold. Her grin was gap-toothed and so carefree.

"No! The snow monster caught you!" You protested playfully.

"Nuh-uh, I threw the last ball an' hit you- hit you square in- in the neck!" You'd heard from Mrs George that Kylie was in speech therapy for the stammer. In your opinion, it just made her cuter.

"The snow monster doesn't agree!" You lowered your voice and made it gruff, putting on the snow monster role, and stood up. She was tiny so there was no issue picking her up whenever you wanted. Holding her by the back of her jacket and knee, you threw her into the nearest snow pile.

"Again!" She stumbled down and out of the pile, back to where you stood, and you picked her up. Spinning around a few times, her legs flailing as you did, you launched her into the air sending the kid off in a great trajectory right back into the snow.

Before she could demand you manhandle her some more, you heard the backdoor slide open.

"Girls!" Mrs George hollered. "Josie and Riley are here!"

Your shoulders slumped in relief. You didn't know what you would've done if it'd been Mr George at the door. Kylie, eager to see her cousin and aunt, sprinted to the door. You lagged back, happy to be alone for a bit.

"Kylie! Kylie, through the garage please!" Mrs George waved her arms like a frazzled traffic guard, desperately not wanting wet floors. Kylie skidded to a stop right before the porch steps and swerved right, headed for the garage door now. You walked at a level pace behind her, knowing full well both the guests' attention would be taken up by the youngest of the Georges for at least the next half hour. Kylie had redecorated since they last visited after all. Priorities.

Your clothes were covered in snow, so due to be soaked pretty soon. You brushed off what you could but hung them up to dry nonetheless. You shot a text to Regina, asking for spare sweatpants 'cause your jeans were not suitable for inside wear. You got back a LOL. You crossed your fingers that meant yes.

"You did not put on that fugly sweater to meet my aunt and cousin." She said once she saw you. You could only shrug helplessly. You liked the sweater.

"I guess I did." You looked at the clothing in her arms. "That for me?"

"Yeah." She handed them over. You stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to either turn around or leave the room. When she didn't, you decided that, hey, she asked for it.

Unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans, you revealed a pair of Ironman boxers.

"Do you shop at the kids' section?" Regina sneered at you.

You winked in response. "I know you like 'em."

"Sure. Love 'em."

You pulled the sweatpants on. They were soft and grey and somehow exactly the right size.

"Did you get these from your dad?" You asked dubiously, not too thrilled by the prospect of wearing Mr George's clothes.

"No, they're for you," Regina responded as if it were obvious. "I got some stuff for you when we started talking. Like, it'd be really inconvenient if you had to go back home just to get a toothbrush or something when you were staying over." She expanded, sounding confident but fiddling with her nails. You'd driven her to an appointment a few days ago to get a new autumn set. "But then, y'know, we spent more time at yours so... Hasn't been much use."

"Huh. I should get something like that for you at mine."

"No." She grinned. "I like stealing your clothes."

"Do you use my toothbrush too?" You acted scandalized, hiding how her saying she liked your clothes made you giddy. She couldn't hate your sweaters that much, then.

She rolled her eyes. "No, idiot, I carry one in my purse always."

"Gotta always be prepared." You clicked your tongue and swung your arm in jest. "Did you already say hi to your relatives?"

"Yes, so now we can go hang out in my room until dinner." Regina grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out of the mudroom. You went pliantly but redirected your path to the living room before she could climb the stairs. You ignored Regina's groan.

Introductions happened swiftly. You were Regina's friend and your family was spending Thanksgiving elsewhere, leaving you in charge of the house. The story wasn't entirely truthful, but neither was it a lie. Riley was a bit younger than Regina but only by a year or two. You could tell she wanted to spend time with her older cousin so bad, but Regina was not enthused.

Luckily, Kylie wanted nothing more than Riley to play Wii with her in the basement. So, off they went. You sat on the couch next to Regina, subtly leaning back and putting your arm on the backrest behind her. You were being totally casual and cool. You weren't even sitting that close so it didn't even look like you had her arm around her. It was totally cool.

Mr George sat in the recliner, eyes trained on the TV. Some sports game was on, but you paid more attention to Mrs George and her sister.

"So, what do y'all wanna do when you get outta high school?" While Mrs George's Southern accent had dulled down over the years to a North-Western one, which meant she sounded like any other Illinois local, the same could not be said for Aunt Josie. Her Texas twang was prominent.

Regina went first. "College." You did so wish she could find it in herself to be a little nicer to her relatives.

"I'll probably take a full-time position at my dad's shop." That'd been the extent of your plans since forever ago.

Regina looked at you oddly, but didn't say anything.

Mrs George and Aunt Josie nodded along, mildly interested, then started talking about college these days and the state of youth in America. You excused yourselves from the conversation and pulled Regina into the kitchen.

"Mom forbids snacks on special days, you know this," Regina grumbled as you dug around in their pantry.

"Does this count as a snack?" You pulled out hot cocoa packets. They were probably ages old, been there since you used to regularly visit the George residence, but you didn't believe in expiration dates anyway. It was just powder.

"We could make real hot chocolate, though." Regina pointed out, eyeing the dusty packets with contempt.

"Well, we could spend some more time in the kitchen making all that and be roped into sitting with them again to drink or we could be quick and tactically retreat upstairs."

"Get the big mugs. We're putting at least two packs in one. And make it with milk."

So, you got to work. You, specifically, while Regina sat on the island and watched. You didn't mind. She looked really pretty. She kind of matched with you, coincidentally enough. Your sweater was a motley of orange and brown patterns and shapes, itchy on bare skin and more so frizzy than fluffy. Regina had a sweater too, and of the same colour scheme, but hers was much more refined, soft to the touch, and had sensible patterns. She had on a black skirt and white legwarmers.

You snuck upstairs with your steaming mugs, tiptoeing so you wouldn't be heard. Once in the safety of Regina's room, you quickly huddled up on the bed.

"Good, right?"

"Swiss chocolate would've been better." She took a sip. "That's really good, though. What is that?"

"I added a little cinnamon."

"It tastes a bit like Christmas," Regina said, looking at you above the rim of her cup as she drank.

"It's right around the corner." You got comfortable on the bed, laying on your side facing Regina.

"Ugh, I hate Christmas. Everybody always comes here, as if Uncle Charlie doesn't have a huge log cabin that he doesn't even use most of the year. If I have to share a bed with Luke this year, I'm quitting."

"He's your oldest cousin, right?"

"Yeah. He's a dick. Last year, he totally-"

As she got into the story, you were lulled into a sense of comfort. Safe in Regina's room, warm hot cocoa cup in your hands, her voice regaling her cousin Luke's douchebaggery, you could almost forget everything else.

You decided you didn't want to think about difficult things during Thanksgiving. Even if the holiday itself hadn't ever been sacred or even fun for you, the fact that you got to spend it at the Georges' made it special.

At one point or another, you felt Regina pluck the mug out of your hands.

"Hey..." You slurred, blinking awake.

"Shh, just go to sleep." She patted your shoulder. You mumbled sleepily and nodded. Somewhere in the distance, she giggled, her hand still warm on your shoulder.

You stirred a couple of times during your nap. At first, you saw Regina next to you reading. Still Catcher in the Rye. She didn't look your way and you fell back asleep.

The second time she was closer. Your eyes met and her hand squeezed yours. She smiled and shuffled closer. Had you not still been halfway to sleep, your heart would've beat right out of your chest.

The third time, her arm was around your waist and knee slotted between yours. It'd been a long time since you'd been held like this. You and Regina used to cuddle in bed for sleepovers, but those were so long ago. She'd always insisted on being the big spoon despite you being bigger. Even now, she had you by your waist while your hands were tucked close to your chest. Wiggling one out, you threw it around her back.

The fourth time was the last. Regina had rolled partly on top of you. Her cheek was pressed to your shoulder, arm secure around your belly, while her leg was bent over your hips. You were firmly held down. There was a gentle knock on the door before it creaked open.

"Sweetie, would you come down to help with dinner?" Mrs George was there, head poked into the room. You nodded with a smile. She eyed you two for a bit, a secretive sort of smile on her lips, before closing the door again.

You took meticulous care to not wake Regina up as you wriggled out of her hold. You replaced your body with a couple of pillows, hoping it'd be enough to keep her asleep a while longer.

After splashing some cold water on your face in the en suite bathroom, you headed downstairs.

"There you are," Mrs George waved you over. "Slice up those mushrooms, would you?"

You washed your hands and got to work. Mrs George and Josie were singing along to some music playing on the radio, chatting occasionally. Kylie and Riley were seated on the island playing on their Nintendo gadgets, at times demanding to taste the contents of the various pots on the stove. The sisters fed them spoonfuls dotingly. Mrs George came up to you a few times too, holding a spoon in one hand while the other was cupped under it, feeding you this and that. The gravy was really good.

The Georges were going all out, going above and beyond in both the taste and sheer amount of food. There were three courses, appetizer, entrée, and dessert. You could only dream of a spread like this and, maybe a little selfishly, you wished Mrs George would pack some of the leftovers for you. It sounded like an utter dream, food for days, good food for days. Mrs George's mac and cheese, buttery mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, stuffed mushrooms, pear salad, heartily roasted vegetables—you could go on.

"Turkey's ready!" Josie called gleefully, clapping her oven mitts together. "Let's get her out, Judie."

Once the turkey was out and placed to the side to wait for dinner, you popped the green bean casserole in. Along with it went the mac and creamed Brussels sprouts. Kylie bemoaned the dish and made a big show of declaring she would not be eating Brussels sprouts in any way, shape or form. You kinda liked them, but it wasn't your favourite.

At some point or another, Regina came down, rubbing sleep dust from her eyes. Still groggy, she didn't even try to bat her mom's hands away when she started smoothing down her bedhead.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," You greeted from your spot at the stove. The job of stirring all the pots had been handed off to you.

"Morning," She yawned. "I'm not gonna get any sleep tonight. You should've woken me up."

"Sorry." You didn't really feel sorry, and she knew that, but that didn't stop you from patting her on the back in consolation. She leaned into you, mind clearly still addled from the nap of the century. She didn't like being touchy-feely in front of other people.

Just under two hours later, you were all ready to sit down for appetizers. You offered to help Mrs George with bringing the dishes back and forth, but she insisted she had it. It made you feel bad since she was the only one who didn't get to sit down and eat in peace. Under the strict eye of Mr George, you didn't dare to go against her wishes. You didn't know what he would take as disrespect or how he'd react to a guest misstepping in his house.

You mirrored Regina the whole time. You ate when she did, took more when she did, and focused on conversation when she did. The tactic was a safe one, but even so the shift in vibrations when around Mr George was palpable.

He didn't talk much. Mostly he just asked his daughters questions about school and their extracurriculars. He only nodded at Regina when she briefed him about the goings-on at school. He indulged Kylie's retelling of her most recent ball game with a subtle smile. He gave his compliments to Mrs George. It made your stomach twist, seeing Kylie beam like she'd won something when she got a smile out of him. Watching Mrs George's nearly full, almost untouched plate sit unattended as she busied herself with the pecan pie in the oven, you quietly wished he wasn't here at all.

Even though the air was soured by Mr George's aloof presence, the food was good. Delicious, immaculate, spectacular. Regina was a much slower eater than you, so you did eventually give up mirroring her because there was no way you were not stuffing yourself full. By the end of it, your stomach was maybe visibly distended and you could taste cranberry sauce at the back of your throat. It was a horrible feeling, but you wouldn't take any of it back.

Mr George went to his recliner, Mrs George and Josie retreated to the sitting room, and you were roped into playing video games with Kylie and Riley. Regina came too, seemingly pained.

The food baby melted away slowly as you watched Regina's younger replicas try their damndest to beat a boss in some game with a raccoon in blue. There was also a pink hippo and a green turtle. Eventually, they pawned the controller to you and told you to beat it. It took you a little bit to figure out the controls, but eventually, you were beating some tiger to the ground as a pink hippo. As you played, you noted that the plot was pretty good for a kids' game. You'd have to see if you could get it for yourself next time you went to GameStop.

With the boss beat, the younger girls took over again. Regina decided that that was enough and bid the two goodbyes, dragging you out with her.

"Not a fan of Sly Cooper?" You teased once she'd deposited you into her room. You walked in further and sat down on the floor, leaning against the frame of her bed.

She was looking at you like she never had before. Or maybe she had, but this was intense. She walked closer, forcing your neck to crane up as she stood above you.

"Reg?" You whispered, confused and a little wary. Had you fucked up somewhere?

"You always ruin the moment with that." She wasn't smiling, or scowling, and there wasn't anything hostile or hurt in her eyes. You couldn't read her. Unexplored territory. She came even closer, stepping so that her feet were on either side of your legs. Your vision blurred as she knelt down, straddling your things. She was soft, her usual perfume faded and mixed with the delectable smells of Thanksgiving dinner, and her hands were coming around your neck.

You swallowed, not daring to move lest you scared her off or something. What was she doing? She couldn't be, just, simply, that was too easy, you were being delusional-

She was soft there too. Glossy, tangy like cranberries, gentle and slow. She kissed you. Regina kissed you. You held your breath for a moment, not even realizing it, and shuddered as it released. She smiled against your mouth.

"C'mon, jorts." She whispered, lips brushing against yours as she talked. Her eyes, so close you couldn't really even look into them, glinted in mirth. "Kiss me back."

Your hands snared around her back, pulling her close to your body, as your lips found hers again. She giggled and you swallowed the sound, feeling it expand in your chest like sunlight.

Even hidden in her bedroom, sharing a kiss you didn't know would mean anything- could mean anything- there was nowhere else you'd rather have been.

Notes: We're still not at the climax. Or, well, we're very close, very much in it, but The Moment is yet to happen. Everybody knows it'll get worse before it gets better. That's just how it goes. So, have this fluff before it's yanked away from you! <3

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69, @alexkolax, @jareaul0ver, @here4theqts, @charleeeesworld, @natsbiggestfan1, @brocoliisscared, @yellowwallflowers, @scarlettbitchx, @ayoungexwife, @cyberbonesworld, @syddie-reads, @screechcat

(holy moly there's a lot of you. if you wanna be added to the taglist, say so in the comments!)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #lesbian regina george #mean girls x reader #wlw #fic: yard work

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nimpnawakproduction · 7 months

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The ultimate reference sheets for all of Vash's outfits in Trigun maximum (with commentaries)

IT IS DONE. I'M FREE. Now I can forget all about Trimax and draw Trigun stampede designs only hahaha (just kidding I have things for Trimax on the stove).

Trigun bookclub was an awesome initiative, I loved the manga with my all heart and wanted to honor Nightow's designs ;w; I also wanted to help my fellow artists with references for Vash's clothes because DEAR GOD it's difficult to understand how the hell he dresses himself in the morning. I have a lot of fun dressing and undressing him like a barbie doll. My hyperfixation is completely healthy.

I put a "read more" section to avoid spoilers :) !

The July coat

The very first coat in Trigun chronology and the one he wores during the destruction of July ! There is not a lot of panels to take references but I tried to stay as close as possible to the manga. I don't know what number of prosthesis he had before but let name this one Prosthesis 1.

Scars map

Next, nakey Vash ! There's A LOT of changes between one panel to another. Scars changes places and forms panel to panel and the design evolved from the first chapters of Trigun, the time we see him naked as Eriks and his undressed state while he was a prisoner on the Ark. I drew the scars that appeared more than once or were in clean view in a panel (but really you can do like Nightow and draw as many scars as you want without thinking about consistency, this boy has been in a meat grinder)

After July underclothes

Or the jumpsuit that gave me grey hair. His suit does not make ANY sense, I don't know how the hell he dresses himself in the morning with this. My solution is that it's very long gloves and chaps strapped to a belt. The position and shapes of the belts changes IN EVERY PANEL. Same for his knee guards, sometimes they're here, sometime they cover his shins, sometimes they are tiny..... I gave up in the end and draw them as we see them in the very last panel he wears this suit. But damn he looks good in it.

Also in all of the 13 volumes, there is not a single panel with a clear view of his holster (I checked...) so here is my interpretation.

This is prosthesis n°2, the design is a little different from the first one so I guess Prosthesis 1 got destroyed (this happens a lot).

After July coat

The very first Trigun coat he wears in the manga ! Very simple, very basic, it gives him impossibly wide shoulders but Vash deserves it. The first one is worn Post July until Vash's confrontation against Brilliant Dynamite Neon. The second one is the state of his coat after the sandsteamer incident. He loses his prothesis after his fight against Monev the gale. He meets Wolfwood with only one arm and stays that way while he fights Knives for the first time.

Eriks

I took liberties with colors because there's no colored panels with Vash as Eriks. Yes I drew him without suspenders because he has them for like 5 panels and then Nightow drew him without them for the rest of Eriks arc so I made choices ;w;

I love the fact that Vash choose to wear tight jeans even in his casual outfits, this boy will not let his skin breath. This is now Prosthesis 3 ! It's way less advanced than the ones he wore in the rest of the manga, the other ones seem to replicate skin.

After his years as Eriks

And now the first Maximum coat, he wears it until the famous Yuri hospital arc! Finally an undersuit that makes sense, I love it, too bad Nightow-san decided that I had to suffer and changed it again to add BELTS EVERYWHERE. We only see his legs in this part of the manga so I gave him the same top because I can.

The tubes he has on his waist are filled with bullets, he can connect them to his prosthesis to have a mini machine gun.

We are now at Prosthesis 4 !

Hospitalization on the Home ship

The famous Yuri hospital phase! Vash definitely shared his wardrobe with Wolfwood, you can't tell me otherwise.

The first outfit still shows Prothesis 4 but he keeps it for like 5 minutes and lost it again against Nine-lives. I don't really know if the prothesis comes with the integrated glove or if there's synthetic skin under it but why would he keep the glove on if it's not intergrated?

The second pictures is the different outfits he wears during his convalescence. I took liberties with the colors, I drew this in like 10 minutes, everything seems easy when you don't have to draw BELTS. We are now on Prothesis 5 ! Nightow drew it as a regular arm so I guess Vash wears gloves on top of it??????

Back on the road in pursuit of Knives

He wears this one after his stay at Home, throughout the Dragon's nest ark and until his 2nd fight against Knives.

I liked the design of his jumpsuit until I looked closer at the panels and saw that the design change ON EVERY ONE OF THEM. Knee guard on only one knee? No kneeguards? Two??? WHO KNOWS ??? I tried to make it work but really go wild with this one, even the author does not know how his pant looks.

Still prosthesis 5, BUT UNTIL WHEN?

Prisoner on the Ark

THEY MASSACRED MY BOY. Did they even feed him at least in 7 months? Those pictures are the definition of the drenched kitty cat left under the rain. Give this man a blanket and a therapist.

Bye bye Prothesis 5 ! And see what I mean when I say that his outfit does not make sense????? It comes out in parts????

After his imprisonment on the Ark

The last suit in the manga! He keeps this coat until the end of the story. From this point, only his hair changes (or the color of his coat).

I adore the little angel wing symbol on his left arm, such a cute addition. Too bad it appears in one of the most traumatic event of his life.

Speaking of his jumpsuit...The return of belts.... But at least this outfit stays relatively coherent except for his kneeguards who appear and disappear panel from panel but most of the time he doesn't have any, so no kneeguard it is. Prosthesis 6 hello !

Final battle and end of the story

It hurted to drew those outfits ;w; And working on the design of his coat when he fights Legato made me realize where Orange studio took inspiration to chose the colors for Vash's coat in the final episode of Stampede ! Great job ! I tried to color the same effects as one of the illustrations showing dark Vash but I'm not really good with colors..... He actually radiates energy but with some purple undertones, I took some liberties because those are my drawings I do what I want.

I'm not sure at 100% that he has a tuft of blond hair left when his outfit turns black but his hair is all black at the end of the fight. His prosthesis is destroyed at the end of the fight. He got another one in the final chapter. So 7 prosthesis throughout the story!

#play with vash like a barbie doll #I love reference sheets #took years to do but it helps so much when drawing comics #or writing fics #how the hell do you expect me to show him undress if I don't know how his clothes work #anyway enjoy #vash the stampede #vash #trigun #trigun maximum #a's art

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absolutebl · 1 month

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This Week in BL - The Industry is Having Issues But the Spice Spicy Must Flow

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

March 2024 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Two Worlds (Thurs IQIYI) eps 1-2 of 10 - One of those "he's dead Jim so time travel" thingames starring MaxNat. I'm over this concept but I do enjoy MaxNat. Phupha (Gun) and Khram (Nat) love each other but Phupha is murdered. Then Khram is pulled to a parallel world where, years ago, Khram and Tai (Max) were in love. However, Khram was killed by Tai’s dad. Now Tai finds alter-Khram. But then there is ALSO an alter-Phupha to deal with. (Phupha is played by Gun Thanawat who was Khom, the repressed butler bodyguard from Unforgotten Night. We like this, but we scared of the love triangle aspect.) Did that make sense? Yeah, okay, see what I mean?

Initial thoughts?

The subs are troubling but I’m enjoying this show a lot. It’s nice to see MaxNat get something meaty to sink their teeth into - that’s not just each other. Also it’s so smart of them to give us a fully fleshed out entire episode developing the alter romance rather than just a separation + death. It makes Khram’s grief and motivation that much more believable. Also it’s really nice to see Nat have good chemistry with other actors.

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 3 of 8 (10?) - I'm still enjoying it. But Two Worlds is objectively better. So this one has lost ranking. Also, unexpectedly chili (the name of my heavy metal Thai cover band).

Lovey switchy and verse main couple too.

This is all quite pleasing.

The bit where the hosts pretend to be a BL couple actor ship was epic on so many levels.

Also unsettling.

All sex work is performative, and in a way there is something more honest about this depiction, in this setting, than what BL actors are made to do on the promo circuit. Which then begs the question, how different is BL from sex work? That's the unsettling bit, for me anyway. Not to slam on sex work AT ALL, we pro-the-true-pros on this damn blog, but actors have been shaded by association with True Professionals for a very long time and BL has already had one epic shut down in this regard. (See the PerthSaint scandal around Love By Chance, no I will not explain.) Where was I? Oh yes, so anyway, see the Gossip section for the part where they better be paid either way!

Also, since I'm a warped fucker, I found this scene funny.

And then hilarious when all of those BL tropes were just trotted out. Like a greatest hits reel.

Truly beyond meta. (How Absolute BL of them.)

Note he’s even standing in yaoi's patented "hands in pocket with the shoulders back"?

Meanwhile, the gayest bridge in Thailand made its quarterly appearance:

And lip serviced was paid to the most touristy romantic things you can do in Bangkok.

And I mean lip service literally.

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) ep 5 of 8 - I’m still enjoying it but getting more and more nervous. We getting too close to Promise territory for comfort. EXPLAIN Ji’s reticence well and do it now or risk audience mistrust. We have to be given a GOOD reason for Ji's behavior, or he'll be irredeemable.

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - NO SINGING. Yes smiley kisses and good communication and a nice healthy relationship. But no singing!

1000 Years Old ep 6 of 12 - Dropping in the ranks. I’m sorry it’s just gotten boring. It has, however, inspired me to invest in my own ridiculous cream fuzzy sweater. Which I plan to wear with leather trousers and huge stumpy boots, like the Kpop queer I truly am. Or do I mean vampire?

Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) ep 1 of 6 - Seems to be an excuse for a small posse of Thai actors to wander around Tokyo playing tourist and sing in public . Someone stop them?

“Most people think this kind of thing is bad manners .”

Anyway, it’s v boring. I’ll give it one more ep but I suspect I’ll DNF.

Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Weds iQIYI) eps 1-2 of 6 - Meh. This is also looking suspiciously DNF-a-licious.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube & Viki) ep 5 of 11 - It's brilliant. I love it. I'm ready to hurt. Let’s do this thing.

Distribution note: This one has been picked up and is also airing on Viki now, so it may lose YT distribution in soem territories. I like Youku's hard subs better than Viki's subs, but that's a matter of preference not information since I don't speak Mandarin.

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 3 of 6 - It is good. Every week I like this show a little more. I'm enjoying a reunion romance explored in Japan's quintessentially contemplative yet slightly surreal way. The juxtaposition of the tenderness of the sex scene with this Japanese brand of authenticity was oddly elegant - for lack of a better way of putting it. All in all, this is a good show. Thought provoking. Stylish.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - It remains lovely but they sure are reusing a lot of footage. Also, this was a classic penultimate doom episode. I do wonder how they are going to resolve this show ethically.

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 8 - It is what it is, and it isn’t my style of show no matter what country of origin. Oddly that's one of the reasons I don't like it. Anyone could have made this, it's not as Japanese as I want it to be, it's just indie film club high school angst. Yawn.

I watched it, finally

The Servant and the Young Master (Vietnam YouTube) 7 eps - I dislike vertical filming, but I kind of enjoyed this show as a BL. I like class conflict romances. For me the rich kid is a bit too dictatorial (edges into bulling), but it’s kinda works. It’s sparse and underdeveloped and a bit plotless, but mildly entertaining. If you're missing Vietnamese BL you might give it a try. 6/10

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) 8eps - A Burmese BL that I had thoughts about but actually ended up recommending. Read the saga here:

It's done, ready to binge, but I suck

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps

It's airing but...

Graduation Countdown (Taiwan YouTube) ep 1 of ? - on one hand it's micro-installment vertical, on the other it's adorable and from Taiwan. I blame @heretherebedork entirely for my conundrum. As indeed, I did for My Type back in the day. (That was Nat Chen's first BL, yes of Kiseki: Dear To Me fame.) So I think I will also simply lean on Here to let me know when it's done and binge all at once. It's just too much to ask me to keep up with 2 minute pieces, I don't have that kind of endurance training, not even for BL.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - it's finished now, I dropped it at ep 4. Should I bother?

A Secretly Love (Thai Sat WeTV grey) 10 eps - I watched the first ep but grey is too much work for this inferior of a show. I may pick up and binge if it gets distribution but for now, it gets a DNF from me. KimCop might have held this crap together but Kim without Cop? No thank you.

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing for some reason.

Man Suang that MileApo vehicle from last year is coming to Netflix in the USA. I haven't heard much about it and since the KP stans would have lost their tiny minds if it was any good at all, I'm assuming it's not good at all.

Gossip

Thai BL actor Yoon breaks with his former company and talks about some very very VERY shady goings on in the Thai BL industry. Including not being paid.

And whacha know, same thing happening in Korean BL.

Have I mentioned recently how much I hate the film industry?

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting Soon

3/31 Only Boo! (Thai GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - New main couple for GMMTV in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks grumpy/sunshine pair who fall deeply in love but, of course, baby boy idol can't date. Boyband but from GMMTV? Control your singing and I'm game.

4/1 Love is like a Cat (Korea ????) 12 eps - This completed filming Aug 2022(!) which means there have been serious problems with post-production. This is another of Silkwood's Korean+Thai colab projects. Mew Suppasit plays a rookie film star, called the Cat Prince (for his cold arrogance) who goes up against a charismatic puppyish animal daycare director (JM of JUST B). There is also a side romance (love triangle?) with a veterinarian. Geonu of JUST B is also in the cast.

I wonder if this was part of the hold up, with Geonu on Build Up right now, they might have tried to muffle this one. Or maybe it's just that bad...

4/3 We Are (Thai GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - University ensemble BL featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawinPoon - basically the good kind of messy gay friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is queer. I'm IN!

Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV?) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous partner), Best and frest face, news here.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

NOTE: It looks like one of my personal favorites of last year Unintentional Love Story is getting a spin off!

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Without ghost girl.

With ghost girl.

I think she may be my favorite part of 1000 Years.

CLASSIC tsundere seme description of a sunshine uke. Like classic'est of classic. (Two Worlds)

Is there such a thing as a tired trope in a BL? Since it is a genre that is made up entirely of tropes quilted together? Your philosophical question for today brought to you by Deep Night's kabedon (Japanese trope) + punishment threat (Thai trope).

Love me a lap sit moment. (City of Stars)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.

222 notes · View notes

anki-of-beleriand · 2 months

Text

A Heart Made of Glass ch. 11

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

I am back!! This chaptr took longer than I anticipated, I didn't know exactly how to continue even though I have an aidea of what I want. So here it is the new chapter, hope you guys like it!

Wanda is finally getting there, and Reader has to face so harsh truths about herself and those around herself.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Wanda and Scarlet

Everyone left as soon as you disappeared with the twins upstairs.

The time seemed to pass without your consent, and by the time the twins had fallen asleep and you were back on the first floor the world around you felt different. You stepped into the living room, your shadows flickering to make sure you were alone while you wandered around the place to take a closer look at the pictures decorating the place. You had always like pictures, and in general, you were good at photography; you realized every single one of the pictures you were seeing had a single purpose: to tell the story of yours and Wanda’s life.

It started with a simple friendship, the both of you were young and as the images move through the years you could see fear behind the attraction, the realisation of love and the tentativeness of a relationship until, at the end, all you could see was a happy ending. You tilted your head, your eyes checking the images over and over again until they fell on a missing section. A missing part of the timeline.

“We broke up one day,” you held yourself tight, your ears twitching with your eyes narrowing lightly, the woman behind you approached slowly, her voice sending a shiver down your back.

Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, her voice carried the weight of unwanted memories.

“I was scared, it was the first time she said she loved me.” You turned slightly looking at the woman out of the corner of your eye.

“Did you cheat on her?” You couldn't help but ask, your voice dripping with old resentment.

Wanda finally stood beside you, and she was so much different than your own Wanda. Taller, calm, with a confidence that poured out of her with an electric jolt of power you were not familiar with. The woman dropped her eyes, then you found yourself looking into her green ones.

“I broke her heart, and then I started dating Vision.” Wanda pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing lightly. “I pretend to be normal to honour my parents by being what they expected me to be.”

You clenched your jaw, the tension evident in your posture.

“We almost got married until…I almost lost her.” Wanda whispered, her face breaking into a mask of pain. “She had disappeared on me, I couldn't reach her out and then, one day she…she came back and saved me and Vis…”

Wanda let out a bitter laughter, tears rolling down her eyes.

“I almost lost her because I was afraid and I just…I couldn’t let her go afterwards. I fought hard to earn her forgiveness, and her love again.”

You swallowed down your own tears, turning away from this Wanda before letting your eyes wandered around a story you had always wished for. You could feel the weight of her stare on you, the poking of her presence waiting for the right moment to either talk to you, or push for answers to questions you were not ready to hear.

In the end you stopped on the one picture you had feared, the one you had seen before but with a different individual smiling back at you.

“They look like you…and me.” You finally said turning to Wanda, this time around the smile that broke her façade was one of pure bliss.

The other woman stepped forward, her eyes drifting to the picture and then to you. She had seen enough inside your head to know this might hurt in ways she could only imagine, and a part of Wanda was completely baffled by the mistakes done without a single thought of the consequences. She had to wonder, though, how much of those mistakes grew into resentment and how many of them were fear of allowing love in.

“They were our little miracle.” Wanda whispered, her voice softened all of a sudden before she closed the distance between you and her, and this time around you couldn’t look away or stepped away from her overwhelming persona.

“They were possible because of you and me, Y/N.” Her words made you shiver, the touch of her skin against yours was electrifying. “We weren’t even trying, and when I found out it had been me the one getting pregnant I was scared of you finding out.”

“Why?” You finally asked furrowing your brows, Wanda cocked a brow with her eyes gleaming challenging at you.

“Because of your thoughts, because of your doubts.” Wanda sighed cupping your face with her hand, “when I approached you my main fear was of you thinking I cheated.”

Your body tensed hardening your stare trying to ignore the tenderness and the understanding in those green eyes you had dreamed about so many times. It still hurt. It hurt like the very first time you fell in love with her, and the first time you saw the video of her and Vision. You closed your eyes, but never stopped feeling the woman in front of you, so much like your Wanda, yet so different than her.

Wanda opened her lips, her heart yearning to get you closer to feel as if you were real. As if you were her Y/N, but she couldn’t stop feeling the coldness, the anger, the sadness pouring out of you from your every pore.

When Wanda spoke again, she did so with the same tone of voice she used that very first time. The one that had always told Y/N that she was loved that she was cherished, that she was everything Wanda needed.

“When I told her about the pregnancy, Tommy and Billy made sure to help me out. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why…” Wanda let out a breathless chuckle, “but when I told her, it just clicked. It was as if she could feel them, and she could sense the familiarity in them. They were as much hers as they were mine.”

“I felt them.” The words left your mouth before you could prevent it. You lifted your face to the ceiling, furrowing your brows while your powers ignited with the familiarity the twins brought to you. “It was strange, yet familiar…And I…”

You stopped right before you could say more than you meant to, you lifted your eyes only then taking notice of how close this Wanda was to you. You could feel her warm breath on your face, her eyes gleaming with a deep green that showed all the love she felt for you.

Correction, for the version of yourself in this universe.

Not you.

Never you.

Your whole demeanour changed in the blink of an eye. Your body tensed, and you stepped back until there was only coldness and distance between you and Wanda. And in that moment, your heart broke all over again for the things you had just discovered in a world that was not your own.

“I can’t…” You whispered; Wanda lifted her hand but she hesitated stepping back as well.

It was in that moment you thought about the videos you received; those chapters of a story Wanda had lived in world she had created. The twins that had come to life as the children of Vision, the sudden mess that became out of such a magic, and then the piercing pain inside your chest when you realized Wanda was even further away than where she had been the first time the both of you broke up.

Your mind quivered breaking into a flow of memories you had tried to contain behind the shadows, and your chest shrank into a deep void filled with coldness and emptiness that left you breathless with desperation clinging to your senses.

Wanda stepped back; she creased her brows watching as your powers flickered around her. You clenched your jaw tilting your head until your footsteps take you out of the house. The world around you trembled surrounding you in complete darkness until all that was left was the single, crimson light of Wanda gleaming in the distance.

“Why are you so hurt, Y/N?” She asked, and her voice was like a dagger piercing your soul and twisting the memories of what could had been.

Instead of answering, instead of voicing your frustrations you broke down with tears rolling down your cheeks and the woman you loved holding you tightly. You hugged her tightly knowing, in this world, she was yours as much as you were hers and, even if it was for a brief moment, you could pretend this was your life.

And that was all that matter at the moment.

________________________________________________

You had been watching the routine from afar.

Billy and Tommy were extraordinary, their powers had been developing along with their physical attributes under the watchful eye of your counterpart and Wanda. Your heart twisted every time they looked at you or addressed you in such a familiar and loving way. The way kids sought out their parents, and it broke your heart the same way it was breaking Wanda’s.

“You were quite good to them, though I am pretty sure Billy noticed you were not his mother.” The voice was familiar to you, you had heard him a thousand times teasing and overall being a complete nuisance until he was finally killed by Thanos.

Loki Odinson was looking completely different to the Loki you had met back home.

His hair was around his shoulders, and he was wearing a dark suit with a tie matching the green of his magic. He gave you a quick once over, his eyes cold and calculating, while his hand twitched around calling upon a spell. You turned completely getting your body ready for a fight, the god smirked and soon you let out a gasp filled with an exclamation of pain as your back hit the ground.

“Not as fast as you used to, I see.”

“You just wait until I get use to this stranger’s body, then you will wish I was this slow.”

“Indeed.” He replied with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice, he stood by your side stretching out a hand to help you up.

You eyed the hand before taking it, the strength he used was enough to tell you he was not someone to mess with. Yet, there was something different about this Loki; he was calmer, more collected and with a hidden force that made you curious just to know the story behind the Asgardians in this universe.

“So, you played for the good guys in this universe?”

Loki scowled at the question walking past you until he reached the porch steps sitting down.

“I have never been part of the bad guys, but I have never seen eye to eye with Thor or some of those idiots he calls friends,” Loki leaned back settling his eyes on you, “I find it insulting to label people in such a black and white vision of life, when you and I know, that people and everyone in general is just…”

“Complicated.” You finished narrowing your eyes at Loki, the young male smirked tilting his head to one side.

“Exactly. Now, let’s get down to business, how much do you know of what happened before you got here?”

__________________________________

Another day sneaked through the clouds, the sun shone right above the heads of the agents surrounding the area around the dome.

Yelena was playing with the knife you had given to her for her birthday, her eyebrows creased together while the TV got ready to play the same chapter of your boring life over and over again. Yelena wished whoever was controlling the show would at least get new ideas, or at least let all of you spice things up because this was getting ridiculous.

There was a loud beep coming from the screen, and the image in the TV flickered between colours and black and white. Yelena almost fell off her chair when you appeared on the screen, this time around the story was different, and for the first time Yelena wasn’t sure if this was a good or a bad thing.

“Natasha! You better come here right now!”

*****

The morning light sneaked through the bedroom curtains. The warm of a single ray of sunshine shook you from your slumber, without really opening your eyes you tried to cover up your face knowing that full consciousness poked through your brain.

Continuing with your marvellous sleep would not be possible anymore.

You furrowed your brows, turning to the side while stretching your arm to try and hug the woman you shared your bed with.

Wanda.

A jolt of electricity went from your brain to your body, your heart beating at an anormal speed while you sat down in the bed. You glanced around the room but everything was the same as the day before, and the before that one. You frowned lifting a hand to your face, your thoughts came crashing down without any specific order.

Your wife. Her name was…

You turned to your bedside table, your mind flashed the memory of a single frame with the woman holding onto you smiling brightly. Your frown deepened, the name dancing inside your mind but unable to make sense.

It's going to be okay, my love, don't take the pill. Don't take it and you and I will be together again.

The voice inside your head whispered, the sweet tone was familiar, your heart jumped with anticipation. You turned on your side ready to leave the bed when the door of the room opened and another woman came right in.

She had dark hair, her lips full and red, while those eyes gleamed with a strange light.

“Good morning, baby, did you sleep well?” She came onto you leaning in to seal her words with a kiss.

It felt wrong, but you answered to the kiss lazily with the pretension of being just awake for a couple of minutes. The woman narrowed her eyes though the smile never left her face, she leaned back before making her way to the curtains and opening them with a yank of her hands.

“Today is a beautiful day, and last night was just amazing my love, I really enjoy it when you let me use you hard.” Her words pretended to be flirty, with a teasing undertone she tried to converge with the sultry stare she sent your way.

You shifted uncomfortably, this time around you wandered through your body to validate the veracity of her words. You didn't feel sore, but of course it could also be the effect of the drug or whatever it was you were in. You stood up making your way towards the woman.

Agatha.

Your face broke into another smile, your arms wrapping around her before leaning in to suck on her pulse point. Agatha lifted her hands closing them around your biceps, a sudden gasp left her lips and she tilted her head to give you more access.

“I love it when you let me be in charge, love.” You whispered in her ear, your lips teasing the shell of her ear, your eyes narrowing when the fixated on the flickering reality behind the woman.

“Mmm, I can tell you want more, but today we have the event in the school and we cannot miss it, I'm still competing for first place in the desserts contest.” Agatha stepped back her eyes dark and dangerous, a hint of lust gleaming inside them.

This was the very first time you approached her out of your free will, and the woman was excited. If you were already looking Agatha out and making these advances it meant her magic was growing bending the reality and helping her get what she wanted. Soon Scarlet and Wanda would no longer be an issue and you would be next.

“Very well, but you won't escape, Missy, I will have you later on.” You winked at her turning to make your way to the bathroom, Agatha called out to you stepping closer while lifting a single pill in her hand.

“I will wait patiently for you, now be a good girl and take your medication and take a bath.”

Your smile never faltered taking the pill you put it right away in your mouth swallowing in front of the woman before entering the bathroom to get ready for the day. Agatha stood there for a moment, her eyes squinting trying to catch anything unusual but soon the shower started running and you started humming distractedly. The dark-haired woman smirked and left, the world around her flickering from purple to red.

*****

The day was bright and warm.

It was a complete contrast of the weather America had suffered in Norway. She glanced at the sky, then at the buildings around her, noticing for the very first time the forms of other people walking around the lanes in front of their homes. She frowned stepping back inside the house where Wanda had been recovering after her session with Agatha, she knelt beside the other woman lifting a hand to measure the temperature.

“Today I don't have a fever.” Wanda opened her eyes offering a half smile to the teen.

“That's good.” America sighed checking Wanda before sitting down on the floor. “You look weak.”

“I'm okay.” Wanda sat down slowly, she grabbed the pillows on the sofa tightly clenching her eyes close. “Scarlet is the one doing most of the work.”

America scoffed looking away from Wanda, that was another part of this crazy plan she didn't like. Whatever had happened before America came into the game, Wanda had detached herself from her powers and the part of her that had always been ready to fight for you. She had seen the suffering behind those green eyes, the pain in Wanda’s voice and the defeat in her posture, she had come to terms that you would never be Wanda’s and that she would always be in love with someone that didn't want her back.

The world had been unfair to you and Wanda, and the both of you had given into miscommunications and pride to even attempt a shaky friendship. America pursed her lips glancing at the coffee table where Wanda had placed the necklace she wore at all times.

“You are Scarlet.” America finally replied, locking her eyes with those of Wanda, “you and her are one and the same, you told me yourself that you could feel everything she did and that…”

“I know.” Wanda stood up on shaky legs, she pressed her lips together leaning in to grab the necklace. “Let's get ready, Agatha is finally confident enough that the world around her is of her own creation and we need to make the most of this chance to wake Y/N and get her help to break the spell.”

“Wanda?” America asked tentatively, she could tell the other woman tensed waiting for the question.

America hesitated before stepping closer, “are you sure this is going to work?”

“It has to.” Wanda sighed glancing to the floor, “Agatha won't rest until she had completed the ritual and drained me of my powers, then she would move onto Y/N…”

“And finally, me.” America wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes tearing up hating people around her kept being hurt because of her powers. Because of who she was.

Wanda put her hands on her shoulders, she offered a tender smile and her eyes gleamed with determination.

“Nothing bad is going to happen, we will make this work and then we will deal with Agatha.”

“Would you fuse with Scarlet?” America gauged Wanda's expression, she could see the fear behind those green eyes. “I mean, she is you after all and perhaps in that way you and Y/N…”

“Even if we were to do this, America, she is…she would never…” Wanda let out a heavy sigh, her hand putting her hair back holding onto everything she wanted to say, everything she had been experiencing ever since she got a chance to see you again.

“It's never going to happen, she doesn't love me anymore and I broke any chances to be with her a long time ago.”

America opened her mouth to say something but Wanda silenced her with a gesture of her hands.

“No, she is not…when I accepted this I knew what I was getting into.” Wanda couldn't help the bitterness in her voice, “I knew it would hurt and we would never be nothing more than allies, I just…”

There were no more words, Wanda strsightned up turning her back to the teen.

“I’m going to get ready, I suggest you do the same.”

Wanda didn’t say anything, without tuning around she made her way back to her room and got the bath ready. She held back her tears, tired of the pain this reunion with you had brought to her heart. She knew she had to pay for her sins, what she didn’t know was how high of a price she would have to cover for everything to at least be forgiven. She had been paying her mistakes from day one, without a single moment of peace or redemption.

The water fell on her washing away the painful pressure resting on her chest, her fist clenched tightly as she went along with the plan, with the memories, with everything Agatha made her lived all over again in order to get deeper into her powers. Wanda was not completely sure she understood, and Scarlet had been unable to be cooperative unless you were involved; everything turned out to be a complete mess, and the young witch had to wonder if perhaps outside this reality there was someone trying to help them out solve the mess they were in.

If there was someone out there that was not blaming Wanda for yet another invented reality.

Wanda closed her eyes, her body flinched with the sudden jolt of electricity that went through her limbs all the way to the very core of her soul. She clenched her jaw close, the world flickered for a moment until she felt the pulse of energy gathering around her hands. Scarlet was ready, and they were running out of time. With a single sigh, Wanda turned off the water and went to get ready.

They only had one chance, she needed to be fast if they wanted to safe Y/N and themselves before it was too late.

And, after seeing her weakened state, Wanda knew time was not on their side.

___________________________

Time was relative.

And, apparently, space bent to the laws of time.

Loki had been very clear in his explanation of the multiverse, and his role in getting you in the right timeline and the right body. You heard everything he told you, with your mind taking the bits you thought important while trying to understand those you found hard to believe in. The theory was solid, but it certainly was meant for someone with a deeper knowledge on these matters like Hank, Tony or even Bruce. You went along with the game, believing what the god was saying to you while formulating a plan that could help you out without disturbing the timeline or the multiverse.

But for Loki to make it work, he would need time, and that meant you would need to live in a world you already found was destroying you little by little.

Without a doubt, this universe was going to be the dead of you.

When you were young and left the Avengers, you used to torture yourself with the ‘What ifs’. What if you forgive Wanda, what if you had been enough, what if you and her were still together. What if.

You remembered those long nights in which you imagine a normal life with her, the thought of getting married and forming a family. These thoughts grew inside your mind until you hit the rock bottom and you had to start a real healing process, you had accepted what happened and you stepped out of the shadows to move forward. You were a hero, with or without the Avengers, you were still pretty much a person that could help others so that was what you did.

You never forgot Wanda, and those little what if scenarios would come at nights or on those specific moments in which you were alone with your thoughts. Your heart used to ache with the shadows of the past while facing the light of the future; and now, trapped in this world, you were face to face with the biggest what if there was dancing inside your mind.

What if you give yourself a chance to love her again?

What if you forgive her?

The door of the basement opened and closed with a heavy thud, you shook your head turning to see Wanda Maximoff coming down the stairs with a plate filled with sandwiches and a three glasses of orange juice. Your eyes went from the tray to the woman then back to the book you had been staring at, Loki snorted knowingly sitting down while flickering his hand around.

The lights grew in intensity, and Wanda shot a quick glare to Loki before shaking her head in defeat. She settled her tray on the table taking a seat right beside you, her eyes softening lightly as they read on your face the torturing thoughts dancing inside your head that multiply when you realised Wanda had prepared your favourite sandwich. The young woman offered an affectionate smile before turning to Loki.

“It is quite evident they had been dream-walking, whoever has been doing it, at least, has become quite adept at it and has been creating a complete mayhem while doing so.” Wanda grabbed a sandwich furrowing her brow while opening the book and showing some graphics filled with runes and letters you did not understand.

Loki tilted his head eating in silence while glancing at the graphics, he turned to you then back to Wanda who continued speaking while filling up in the gaps that you did not know. Those that you had not been a part of while on in this universe.

“When we first encountered America, she told us about the multiple encounters she had with strange creatures chasing her around the multiple universes.” Wanda pursed her lips furrowing her brows, “something happened though, there was a moment of peace and then when they came back, she fell into our world.”

“Is this the part in which everything else happened?” Loki asked tilting his head thoughtfully, “but there was a moment of peace as well, was it not? Stark mentioned a time of peace in which she was getting use to this place…”

“And to us, yes.” Wanda shifted lightly, her eyes flickered to where you were already finishing your sandwich, your tongue tucking out cleaning your lips before you went back to your food. She couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, it seemed that some things didn’t change in between universes.

“Dream-walking is a powerful technique, not just anyone can do it and whoever decides to enter in such a realm of dark magic usually gets affected,” Loki leaned back closing his eyes for a moment, “whoever is behind this know what they are doing, and they had probably been planning this for a very long time.”

“I’ve been having dreams I shouldn’t have, dreams with Scarlet sneaking inside a different reality.” You chewed on your lower lip drinking from the glass before continuing, “some of them are pretty real, everything that she does it’s usually pretty real, yet I know it is not Wanda. It feels different, she is different even if they look the same.”

There was a moment of silence in which you tried to ignore the stares from Loki and Wanda on you. You distracted yourself with the food and the beverage while playing with the ring on your hand, you shifted on the chair ready to speak until Loki beat you to it.

“You said you saw a rune before the explosion, right?” Loki inquired, he produced a piece of paper and a pen that lend you waiting for you to draw what you saw.

“Yep.”

Wanda observed as you drew the rune, she leaned forward softening when her nose caught up with the aroma of your shampoo and special scent that was innately yours. She couldn't help the hand that rested on your arm, nor the tenderness behind her caress. You shifted on the spot, your back going rigid the moment you felt the familiarity behind the touch.

“There is something I don't understand yet, why do you call her Scarlet and referring to her as a third individual?” Loki finally asked furrowing his brows, you scrunched up your nose turning to Wanda then to Loki.

“Because they are not the same?” You knew something was not right the moment those words left your mouth.

Wanda and Loki glanced at one another, breaking their eye contact almost right away.

“What?” You could see the hesitation but it was Wanda the one who answered.

“I am Scarlet, Y/N. That was my alias when I was part of the Avengers.” She clarified, you noticed just how closed she was to you, the twitched of her lips just as her hand cleaned up the crumbs of bread on your clothes and face.

“Okay, well…look, I don't know what happened there, but my Wan…” You scoffed at the slip, stepping back and giving your back to Wanda you spoke again, “Wanda and Scarlet are certainly not the same. If anything…Scarlet is more…”

“Daring? Powerful? Mischievous? Straightforward?” Loki cocked his head, he smirked when you turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “That's Wanda alright, I will add an annoyance, and a pain in the ass.”

“Thank you.” Wanda glared at Loki who bowed his head, the relationship was almost as confusing as seeing Steve squirmed when talking to Loki.

“I wouldn't describe it like that…” you trailed off remembering the dreams, the touches and her words.

You clenched your hands, this world was certainly driving you mad.

“Is it possible this Scarlet is from a different Universe?” You asked looking at the circle on the floor, “perhaps a more deranged and obsessive version of Wanda from a different Universe?”

Loki stiffened at the question, he shifted from one foot to the other before stepping forward with a flickered of his hand a book appeared out of thin air. He grabbed the article, turning to Wanda before stepping forward into the circle.

“A cup of tea would be nice,” Loki sat down on the circle opening the book in front of him, the world soon darkened only to ignite a green flame.

You stood your ground, stepping inside the circle making the magic around it flickered dangerously. Your eyes went black, leaning forward with your arms firmly placed at your sides.

“Answer the question.” You demanded to which Loki merely shrugged.

“Wherever there is a Wanda, there is always a Scarlet Witch, Y/N. They are one and the same.” Loki then twirled his fingers sitting Indian style while closing his eyes, the electric current of his magic pushed you away. “The fact that you are telling us there are two versions of Wanda only tells me what I should look for.”

“How can you know this? How can you be so sure that they are not two versions of different universes?”

“Because something like this has already happened before.” Loki waved his hand away frowning, “now, hush, I need to do this right or else I may take far longer than necessary and you need to go back to your timeline before something catastrophic happens.”

You observed the god with his hands position to the sides, flickering as the book finally revealed golden pages and he smirked. You were about to speak again but your body went completely rigid when a hand placed itself on your shoulder, you turned around only to see Wanda looking directly at you. Her touch was tender, and almost tentative, but it was enough for you to stop whatever you were about to do or ask. For a brief moment she waited, until you finally relaxed and stepped back.

“Come, this may take a while and I think we still have a conversation pending.”

You hesitated with your shadows flickering around you, whatever power or will to fight you had in you was soon eased out when Wanda sought out your eyes. You swallowed down your weakness before this woman, and without a single word you turned around and left the basement. The door close behind you with a flash of gold and green filling the basement before the closed door stopped any other intrusion from the magic.

You rested your back against the door, the young woman standing beside you bounced for a moment before she went into action and made her way to the kitchen. At first, you only follow her with your eyes, the confidence she was usually wearing faltered from time to time, and you could see the tension building up inside her while she grabbed the tea pot and got everything ready. Her back was turned towards you, but you were completely sure she was pretty aware of your presence and what you were doing.

After a while, and once it was pretty obvious Wanda had nothing else to do but wait for the water to boil you pushed from the door walking towards the kitchen and sitting down on a chair near the counter.

“When I first learnt about my powers, I started hearing this voice inside my head.” Wanda started talking out of nowhere, you sat down waiting for the story to continue.

“It was not a stranger's voice, it was mine though it held an influence and power that soon became part of me.” Wanda turned around, this time around she made sure it was impossible for you to look away. “While I was being experimented on, the voice kept on infusing me with confidence and power, I understood that the magic in me was talking but then…”

Wanda trailed off and her face broke into a painful mask of the past. The memories came rushing in, she lifted a hand to grab her arm hugging herself protectively. You swallowed down holding onto the counter, your heart twisted wanting to go over there and comfort Wanda. You clenched your jaw, looking away and hating the emotions running rampant inside of you.

“I was then given to my parents, my adoptive parents.” Wanda put a hand on her forehead, her voice breaking lightly. “She never told you?”

“She decided to cheat on me instead of trusting in me.” You replied through clenched teeth.

“It's so easy to judge others, isn't it?” Wanda shook her head leaning forward. “Have you ever asked her about the experiments? About the abuse? About the training?”

“Perhaps it was different from her that it was for you.”

Wanda leaned back, lifting her chin, “perhaps, but something tells me our worlds differ in the way we react to the past.”

“Does it make a difference?” You leaned forward, for the very first time spitting out anger while hitting the counter. “She broke my heart in the worst way and then…then came back with a set of troubles that only brought confusion and memories I didn't want!”

Wanda shook her head pointing a finger at you.

“If this is what you think then, you never knew her and you never understood her.” Wanda opened her mouth to say something else but she stopped, her eyes taking in the form of her wife and her heart yearning to have her back. To feel the sweet caress of her eyes on her.

“She should have been more open, then. I was patient! I was always there for her! Even after Pietro died…”

“What?” Wanda paled at this, she opened her eyes trembling while she approached you, a piercing pain breaking through her chest.

You blinked confusedly shrugging, the anger still lingering in your features.

“The day she became part of the team, that day Sokovia was destroyed. Pietro died saving Clint.” You hesitated to take notice of the pain crossing Wanda's eyes, “I'm sorry.”

Tears piled up in her eyes, her hand went to her chest. It was quite evident this news affected her greatly, even if her own brother was alive and her country was still pretty much a functional place with a stable government and amazing landscapes. You looked away, unable to face the tears or the sorrow coming from Wanda.

“And then, she lost you.” She whispered, leaning back, Wanda opened her mouth before closing it again.

You shrugged, passing your hand through your hair, everything was messed up. Your emotions, the situation, the fact your heart ached to comfort Wanda, that you still wondered if perhaps being with her was possible.

“I just…I want this to end. I don't know if this was…”

“You really don't understand,” this time around Wanda approached you with a tentative stare in her eyes. You stepped back the muscles of your face tense, with your chin lifted slightly.

“I think I understand enough after I saw her fucking Vision while she was still dating me.” You spat out, your eyes black while your powers flickered behind you.

Wanda had seen it.

The treason, the broken heart, the pride and the anger, but she had also seen the love, the nostalgia, the confusion as to what to do, how to proceed. She had seen enough to approach you, to place a hand on your shoulder. This Wanda had seen it all, and she had lived it before; the only difference was that she never hide herself from who she was and what she was experimenting with you. She had to face it because if she hadn't done so, she would have lost you and she was not ready to let you go.

It was getting harder to breathe, your thoughts came rushing inside your mind creating a spiralling of emotions that pierce through your very soul. Those green eyes were looking at you with understanding, there was a hint of sadness there but also hopefulness, and you just dropped your shoulders with your eyes glancing to the window.

“I can't look at you without remembering my pain,” you mumbled grabbing your chest, “I can't be here, and I can't be part of this fight if it means I have to be close to you. To her.”

“You still love her?” The question made you shiver, the darkness in your eyes increased and this time around the shadows wrapped around your body.

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does to me.” Wanda squeezed your shoulder tenderly, there was a hint of a smile but otherwise the woman was trying to be as open as she could be with you. “I can't believe she did what she did, it was something that crossed my mind but I never…”

“Yes, well, things are different in every universe, right?” You tried to move away but the hand tightened her hold and Wanda kept you closer.

“When I broke things up, and I started dating Vision something happened.” Wanda started, her voice carried the weight of memories while her magic flickered around you and her. “It was confusing at first, denying you, denying me, trying to convince myself that I was living in sin and that I have to change to be the perfect daughter, to be the person I was raised to be.”

You listened carefully, it was the very first time you heard Wanda after what happened. And while this experience was completely different to the one you lived with your Wanda you could perceive the similarities. The relationship with Vision, you running away, the conflict in the world, the need for the Avengers to save the day, everything came crashing down and the fight was almost lost because Wanda had lost herself and her mind. She was becoming a different person, her powers getting out of control. Until she was faced with her powers and the presence inside her mind.

“It was strange, at first, but it was as if I had created a different version of myself, a powerful one that had no limits on the magic she could use, my magic,” Wanda then let out a bitter smile, “I almost killed my Y/N when she tried to reach out to me, that was what made me snapped.”

“I don't understand…” you crunched up your nose, creasing your brows while replaying the story inside your head, “what do you mean another person? Powerful? I mean, my Wanda created a whole new reality for her and…Vision.”

“Are you sure it was for him?” Wanda stepped back letting go of you, “there is something about this whole mess that has been bothering me ever since America stepped into our reality.”

“You mean, besides my consciousness being trapped in the body of your wife?” The sarcasm in your tone made Wanda roll her eyes, though this time around she did smile.

“The magic feels familiar, yet tainted. As if there was something else in there.” Wanda leaned back against the counter, “you mentioned a Scarlet and a Wanda, I was never two different people in here, I became the Scarlet Witch and owed my powers the same day I decided to fight for you and your forgiveness.”

You tensed turning away from the intense stare Wanda was shooting your way.

“I don't pretend to defend my counterpart, her sins are her own, and her demons had been chasing her far enough to leave her alone in your world,” her words crashed the barrier in your heart, and not for the first time you longed to see your Wanda and comfort her. You had seen the loneliness, the misery, and the weight of her mistakes wearing her down.

“But, have you considered perhaps Scarlet is her way to escape who she really is? That perhaps, everything comes down to this Agatha and the world Wanda created for herself?”

You couldn't answer the question that left a burning mark in your mind, the house started trembling and soon the air filled with magic. You and Wanda turned to the door where the sheer strength of the magic being used was making it tremble on its hinges.

“What's happening?” You narrowed your eyes, your body getting ready for whatever would come out of the door.

Wanda approached the door tentatively, her hand stretched out but before she could reach the doorknob there was a small explosion. Out of instinct, you grabbed her through the shadows putting her out of harm's way while the hall got completely destroyed. Your arms wrapped protectively around Wanda, your eyes wide open as they glanced at the woman that was kneeling beside you.

“Are you okay?”

Wanda swallowed down, nodding, she looked away from you, turning her attention to the hall. There was no more magic, and everything was silent. The place looked trashed but otherwise the house was silent, with only remnants of humming power prickling at your skin. You couldn't help but set your eyes on Wanda, the woman holding onto you submitting to your protective embrace.

“Loki.” There was real concern behind Wanda's voice, with some reluctance she stood up getting ready to go down the stairs when Loki finally appeared behind the threshold.

“Loki! Are you alright?”

Wanda was on him in no time , her hand gleaming red scanned the body of the male frowning before slapping his arm. Loki scoffed, rubbing the spot she had hit, glaring at the woman.

“What was that for?”

“I told you not to trash the house!”

“Yes, well it wasn't my fault.” He stepped past Wanda, directing his eyes to you. “Tell me everything you know about Wanda and Scarlet, and what exactly do you know about this Agatha.”

You cocked your head, your nose crunching up with just a hint of hesitation in your eyes. The world might have changed in this part of the universe but Loki was still Loki; what could he do to help? What was more, why was Wanda looking at him as if he held the answers to this mess?

“We don't have time for this, but I'm not the Loki you know…” here Loki trailed off, his feet taking him to the teapot, every single moment measured and carefully designed for him to serve himself a cup of tea.

Wanda came behind you, you sensed her hesitation before she too stepped past you and joined Loki in the same activity. You couldn't believe the strangeness of this world, the obvious power these two individuals held, and the secrets behind their powers. You glanced at the mug in front of him, then at an admiring Loki.

“By mere chance, I ended up in a place where all the timelines are stories I can tamper without any effort.” He shrugged, taking a sip from his tea, “while witches and wizards everywhere need to dream walk or steal the powers to reach other realities, I can do so by stepping into the sacred timeline.”

“What is…?” You started and for the first time you saw real annoyance behind Loki's face.

“I could explain to you my part of the story, but I believe our main focus must be for you to go back to your world, and our Y/N to come back.” Loki shrugged, looking at Wanda sideways, “that's why I need you to tell me everything.”

There were many questions in your mind, but with a nod you opened your mouth telling them about your first encounter with Wanda, whatever you found out about Agatha and then the subsequent explosion that led you to this world.

___________________

Wanda was ready to hit someone.

She really was ready to give up and do something drastic. The red magic concentrated on her hand, her eyes gleaming dangerously until a soothing hand wrapped around her forearm, America was torn between being amused and slightly concerned. For what seemed weeks they had been trying to get their plan into motion but every time they got to it you were ensnared deeper into the hex Agatha had placed on you.

The days were changing slowly, instead of the temporal loop they had experimented on those first days, now it was possible to go from one day to another, different days, different scenarios. Agatha was growing stronger while Wanda and Scarlet weakened little by little.

“You told me we had to be patient.” America stated trying to block Wanda's eyes from the scene playing in front of her.

Wanda huffed looking away from you and Agatha.

“She is doing this on purpose, she keeps using Y/N by having her under a spell, and we…”

“We are working on a solution, and the solution is here.” America rolled her eyes, still not believing she was the adult at the moment.

America knew most of Wanda's reaction was jealousy, the other part was guiltiness. Whatever was happening in the basement whenever Agatha dragged Wanda down, America knew the young woman had to face things she was not ready to face. Wanda usually came from those sessions tired, drained and miserable, while it became difficult for her to handle her magic.

America pursed her lips glancing at you and Agatha, Agatha placing your hand on her abdomen while you looked at her adorably. The principal of the school and the woman America and Wanda had met the first time they arrived in Norway were smiling congratulating the happy couple.

“How did she get the…” Wanda couldn't even said it, she turned around and everyone seemed to be having a good time in the school grounds.

“Well, you told me that's what you did…”

“Her magic was not like mine, she really is draining all my powers and here I am…” Wanda turned around and walked away.

America followed her walking faster to keep up with the other woman.

“Wanda, it's going to be fine, this is what we have been waiting for, right? We got her distracted and then you tried to wake Y/N…” America then hesitated pursuing her lips, “you told me your counterpart would help, right? With the signal she would help…”

Wanda stopped her passing, she squinted her eyes before nodding curtly.

“She said she would help.” Wanda didn't want to share her concerns with America in regards to her counterpart.

When they had met, Wanda had been scared out of her mind. The woman standing before her held the full power of chaos magic while being a construct of an inexistent reality. She had spoken harshly to her, blaming her for your indifference and for you to seek out other arms to be happy. Wanda had seen her life in replay, the past and the mistakes, the pain and the wrong decisions, everything that had led her to be alone and forgotten, trapped in a hex out of her control.

“Wanda?” America asked tentatively, Wanda straightened up shaking her head before offering a shaky smile.

“Let's do this.”

America smiled nodding, Wanda sighed begging to whoever was listening to her that this worked, or else, she didn't know what would happen once Agatha had gotten what she came for.

“You know what to do, right?” Wanda asked a very enthusiastic America, the young woman nodded with a smirk forming on her lips.

“Yep, please, Wanda just go for her… I know things will be okay.”

Wanda watched as America left ready to join the rest of the teenagers she had known back at school, soon she pretended to be just like everyone else trapped into the loop while Wanda sneaked around ready to reach out to you. With a single tap into her magic, she signalled Scarlet and soon she felt the surge of power going through her body as an answer.

There was a loud bang, everyone exclaimed in surprise and soon people were laughing and clapping. While Wanda saw the subtle flickered in the reality, the purple changed into a light red. It was time. Without wasting more time, Wanda sprinted towards you spotting you right away while you laughed at some of the kids putting you away ready to show you some of their works and Agatha was distracted by the mother's asking about her pregnancy. The scene was so absurdly familiar, and stereotypical Agatha never noticed Wanda coming closer, or you walking into the school building.

The place was completely quiet, there was not much light but whatever light sneaked inside the building was enough for Wanda to locate you in the far corner of the building. Her heart skipped a beat, she glanced around knowing at any moment the reality could break and Agatha could get everything under her control.

“Y/N?” She called tentatively, you turned around with a scrunched-up nose and brows knitted together.

Your eyes met hers, and Wanda felt her breath taken away. You looked just the same, the way she remembered, with the same serious facade and the eyes filled with kindness and wonderment. She wished she could reach out to you, that she could gain your forgiveness…

The distance between the both of you shortened, but before Wanda could say anything you did something that left her and Scarlet defenceless.

You kissed her.

Wanda gave in right away, her eyes opened wide only to close slowly while she submitted herself to the kiss. Your lips on her sent an electric jolt through her body until her heart was twisting inside her chest and a hoard of butterflies exploded inside her lower abdomen. She forgot her own name, and everything stopped when your arms pulled her close and your warmth engulfed her with your teasing lips eliciting sweet whimpers of need.

For a brief moment Wanda forgot all about her past, she forgot the problem they were in and even why she had been looking for you. Wanda gave in, and kissed you back with the same tenderness, with the same need, with the same love.

“My Love, I missed you so much.” You said smiling tenderly at her, Wanda whimpered when you went back to her, your lips pressing tentatively before you pressed your forehead against hers.

“By the gods, Wanda, what's going on? Where is everyone? Billy and Tommy? Are they Okay?” You broke the kiss cupping her face in your hands, your questions soon went through her foggy mind, and Wanda felt as if a bucket of cold water fell on her.

“What?”

“Is it Pietro with them?”

Wanda felt her world crumbling around her, and you just went to kiss her again when a ball of purple mist came in between the both of you exploding and sending you flying away from Wanda.

You groaned, hitting the wall, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

“Honey, I can't take my eyes off of you or you go back to Wanda's arms, tsk even after she fucked Vision you’re like a lost dog after her “

You pressed your hands on the ground lifting your face, your brows knitted together while Agatha held onto America and Wanda. You eyed the woman in front of you, she wore a dark dress floating just above the ground with America trying to grasp for air. Agatha smirked at you, her free hand twitching slightly until Wanda fell on the ground with a purple rope tightly wrapped around her neck.

“Wanda!” You stood up stretching your hands and your eyes darkening completely, you hardened your features stopping only when you heard the groan of pain from America and Wanda.

“Nu-uh, dear, I can be quite jealous and if you even care about these two you will lower your guns and…”

You were not even thinking about the threat, you had found an opening in the hex and in the powers used by the woman in front of you. Your fingers wiggled, and the shadows went into attack mode but you weren’t the only one joining the fight without giving it a second thought. Scarlet and Wanda had been planning it all along, they knew they needed one another to bring Agatha down, the same way the did that first time but they were not counting on you.

Or, the golden and greenish spark of magic that broke into their space, the explosion that followed blinded everyone, and soon they were there no more.

_____________________

The charts and the monitors were going into overdrive, Tony was trying to fix some of the readings with Monica and Friday helping him out while Carol was standing outside the dome getting ready for action.

Yelena and Natasha stayed behind, they had been watching the fill show for more than a couple of hours watching the time passed differently entering into days and nights as if time didn’t really matter.

Yelena was chewing on her lower lip, hitting the table as soon as she saw you running towards Wanda crashing your lips against hers.

“I told you! Didn’t I?” Yelena turned to Natasha pointing an accusing finger at her.

Natasha rolled her eyes trying to go back into the scene, getting other angles only to see Agatha freezing the scene around her and grabbing America harshly by the neck. She saw the way she roughed America up, putting her to her before making her way to the school. Her eyes went from one screen to the other, this time around she noticed Scarlet breaking the chains around her arms, legs and neck, almost crawling outside the house faltering before gathering some energy.

“Yes, Yelena, you told me, you are amazing at this but…” Natasha pointed to the screens, Tony and Monica coming over shaking their heads.

“Whatever the hell is going on is…” Tony trailed off turning around to see a huge explosion affecting the dome.

The earth trembled, and soon everyone right outside was running around screaming orders in different languages.

“Guys, you need to see this!!” Carol was standing right outside the trailer, her face was completely paled, with a hint of worry in her eyes.

Natasha was about to exit but stopped when Yelena grabbed her hand, she turned to her sister to see the concern in her eyes.

“That’s not her.” Yelena was completely serious, with just a hint of fear in her tone.

“I know.”

“Who was that?”

“I don’t know, Yelena, but…”

“Hey, you two, you better come out because we just got a huge problem right now.”

Yelena scoffed turning to Tony, “what could possible be more important than the fact that was not Y/N?!”

Tony tilted his head shrugging, “perhaps the fact they just disappeared.”

“What?!”

Natasha and Yelena soon joined the rest of the team outside the trailer, the cold winter breeze of the north hit them straight in the face. The town was left almost untouched, with people on the ground being attended by the medical team; the dome had disappeared but besides some buildings being scratched and the people around being confused and left on the spots, there was nothing else indicating something strange had happened.

Natasha stepped forward watching the streets, and the sky, her heart almost leaving her chest when she turned around to see everyone looking at her. Yelena came forward as well, she crossed the street glancing around until she realized she was right in front of the street Agatha had used to name the street you were living in.

“What…what happened? Where are they?” Yelena finally asked turning to Natasha who merely shrugged just as baffled as her sister.

Instead of watching the same destruction Wanda had provoked a few months ago, what they found was a city that had been frozen in time. With all the inhabitants trying to remember what had happened, why they seemed to be a little disoriented; meanwhile, Yelena and the others had to wonder where you and the others had gone to.

“Where are they? Where is Y/N?!” Carol asked turning to Natasha and Tony. “You told me this would be fine! That you guy would find an answer before anything happened! Well, guess what, something happened!”

But there were no answers, and while everyone was fighting over what they should have done, or discussing what they should do, Yelena grunted exasperated running back into the trailer ready to get her eyes square while watching the screens. Something must be hiding in the broadcast, something she probably missed, something that would bring you safe and sound back into their reality.

At least, that’s what Yelena hoped for.

______________________________________________________________

Next Chapter: Loki miscalculates and creates a vacoon in the multiverse, Wanda has to face her counterpart and two different versions of Reader, America is ready to save the day and it was Agatha all along.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #Wandavison AU #Wanda x Female!Reader #MCU AU #Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

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magics-neptunes-things · 1 month

Text

One Love (2)

Hello everyone!

After several requests for Luna, here again. The requests can be found here, here and here. I know I haven’t answered all the suggestions you’ve made, but it gives me more ideas for other stories/chapters so it’s pretty cool right?

Also, I have absolutely not reread what I wrote, apologies if there are mistakes.

Enjoy!

TW : Jealousy, suggestive

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5

______________________________________________________________

Lucy was looking at her girlfriend with pride. She was gutted when she learned that her team wasn’t qualified to play the Olympics Games, which was quite understandable. But now in her WAG era, she can’t be anything except proud of her girlfriend. She just has to shoot a glance at Lia to know that she’s proud of her own girlfriend too. Her friendship with her was unexpected to be honest. But when Ona mentioned that she could assist the final of the UEFA National League with the Swiss Woman, Lucy didn’t refuse. She didn’t know personally Lia, but some of her friends did and she always heard good things about her.

And since they had a great time together at Sevilla, Lucy proposed at Lia to watch the game together. They weren’t in the family section, but Lucy is wearing a Spanish jersey with the number 2 and O. Batlle written on the back. She couldn’t be more obvious than that. Lia chooses to be more subtle and was wearing a bracelet with Spanish color and Mariona’s number writing in white.

“She’s looking for you” Lia says to Lucy.

Ona was actually in the pitch, her eyes scanning the crowd. Lucy told her where she will be sat, but it’s difficult to see when the stadium is full like today. Laia Aleixandri came to hug Ona and exchange a few words with her, before starting to look at the crowd too.

“They are so bad at this” Lucy laughs.

“Mario didn’t find me either” Lia smiles.

But it doesn’t really matter, both know that they will find their girlfriends later for the celebration. Ona is disturbed in her research by Aitana, coming to jump on her back and taking her to go to the ceremony and be cover with her gold medals. Another one to add to the Spanish collection.

With a pout on her face, Ona let Aitana take her by the arm, leading her where they’re supposed to be. But Ona turns her head one last time and that’s when she saw her. Her face light up in an almost funny way and Lucy just wave at her. Ona wave back, making a heart with her hands before following Aitana, her heart lighter now.

***

Almost two hours later, Ona can finally go to the room where their family and friends are. She just out of the shower and her hair are still wet from it, but she just wants to see her girlfriend. She thought that now that they both live in Barcelona being away from her will be less difficult. How was she wrong. Being apart from Lucy is harder everyday and she can’t remember how she survived the long-distance relationship at first. Her being in Manchester and Lucy in Barcelona, they were way more apart than together. Even if they managed to have quality time, like the day when Lucy went to see her play, it was hard. And she was missing Lucy a lot.

Lucy’s smiling when she saw Ona and the younger one can’t resist and almost jump in her arms. She saw an edit of her almost crashing in Lucy’s arms at each beginning of games and Lucy teased her a lot about it.

This time, the English woman pick her and squeeze her hard in her arms, lifting her feet off the ground a few centimeters. Ona laughs and put a kiss in her neck, before being putting on the ground again.

“You were amazing. Like always. I’m so proud of you Ona, I swear” mumbles Lucy, stroking Ona’s cheek.

The brunette blushes, unable to keep looking at her girlfriend. Her smile is wide anyway and Lucy has to work on herself not to kiss her like crazy right now. She knows those kinds of kisses will come later, in their hotel room. Or Ona’s hotel room, in which Lucy intends to impose herself tonight.

“I love you” whispers Lucy in Ona’s hear after taking her against her one more time.

Ona looks at her this time, still with her big smile on her face.

“I love you too, Luce. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for one million. Plus, I have my new bestie now.”

Ona follows Lucy gaze on Lia and Mariona, standing a few meters from them, and chuckle lightly. And, because she’s still in her girlfriend’s arms, she lets herself go a little more against Lucy. The dark hair woman kiss her hair softly before releasing her.

“Go say hi to your family, your brother is here and I think he misses you. I’ll try those margaritas. I see you later superstar.”

Ona pouts but let Lucy push her in the right direction. To be honest, she missed her brother, her sister-in-law and her parents too. She went for them under Lucy’s gaze, before the English woman went to the bar.

Lucy let Ona enjoy her night with her teammates and family, even if she knows a lot of them. She’s happy for the Spanish team, a lot of them are her friends too after all. She talks with Jenni with whom she hasn’t had much exchange since her departure for Mexico, but which she is happy to meet again.

She talked with Mariona too, Cata and Aitana. It’s only when she’s talking to Alexia about the new restaurant in their neighborhood that she feels a twist in her stomach.

“You’re not watching your girl, Bronzey?” asks Jenni with a smirk, cutting their conversation.

Frowning, Lucy immediately looks for Ona’s figure in the crowd. She spots her quickly in a corner of the room, talking with someone. Well Lucy wouldn’t have a problem with Ona talking to someone, but this someone having their hand on her girlfriend, it’s something else.

“Who’s this?” she asks Alexia.

The blonde looks in the same direction before answering. She frowns too and it piques Lucy’s curiosity. Usually, Alexia knows everyone, even from afar. No matter who this girl is, she still has a hand on Ona’s shoulder and holds her hand with the second.

The English girl feels her blood bubbling in her veins. She was never jealous before Ona, she was more the kind of girl who can let her girlfriend for a two weeks journey without her. She can’t even imagine this kind of things with Ona. It’s not that she didn’t trust her girlfriend, she knows Ona would never do anything like that. But she didn’t trust the world, who doesn’t seem to be able to resist Ona’s charm.

Lucy’s jaw is tightened when Ona looks up in her direction. But Lucy realizes immediately the look of distress from Ona. She didn’t need more, putting her glass in Jenni’s hands before crossing the room to take her girlfriend back.

“Hola” Lucy says when she’s next to Ona.

She heard them talking in Catalan and thanks to Ona, her Catalan is way better than it was before. Next to her, Ona seems to be relaxing and it’s only now that she’s by her side that Lucy realizes how uncomfortable her girlfriend was.

“Hola mi Vida” Ona smiles, before turning at Lucy’s opponent “Lucy, this is Maria. Maria, you know Lucy?”

Lucy can’t say if it’s because of her burning look, but the named Maria release Ona almost immediately, to their relief. Still keeping her eyes on Maria, Lucy takes Ona by her waist, dragging her against her body. But Ona let her do it, knowing how much Lucy can struggle with her jealousy sometimes.

Lucy learns that this Maria is here because she’s a great friend from Atheana and as Ona and Maria talked, she didn’t let Ona go. Ona’s hand finds their way to Lucy’s back pocket, the English woman smirking at the movement.

Atheana finally comes to take her friend back and If Ona says goodbye, Lucy only responds with a vague gesture of the head. Ona let a sigh of relief go, sticking against Lucy.

“Thanks for coming for me” Ona whispers.

But Lucy only grumbles, still looking at Maria who is now talking to Teresa. She only takes her eyes away from her when Ona kisses her jaw.

“Who was this bitch touching you?”

Ona flinches a little at the question, dragging Lucy’s attention once again. She doesn’t want to hide anything to her though, so she answers with all her sincerity.

“Maria. We… Well, we had a thing, some years ago” Ona confesses, looking carefully at Lucy’s face.

Lucy knows she doesn’t have the right to be jealous, Ona had a life before her, and she knows it. But still. Having her brain picturing her girlfriend with someone else is always something very disturbing for her.

“And why your ex thinks it’s ok to touch you the way she did?” Lucy groans

“I don’t know. I try to escape her grip but when I took a step back, she moved forward by two.” Ona answers, still looking deeply at Lucy, before asking. “Do you maybe want some fresh air?”

“Yes please”

Without waiting a little more, Ona takes Lucy’s hand to drag her outside. It was cold now that the night is well advanced and Ona shivers almost immediately. Lucy sees it, of course, and opens her arms in invitation for her girlfriend. The younger one doesn’t hesitate to stick to Lucy, who then tightens her arms around her, locking her with her in her jacket.

Rocking themselves lightly, Lucy let her lips slide along Ona’s temple. The Spaniard has her face against Lucy neck and really thinks she can fall asleep just like that. She can smell and feel Lucy everywhere and it’s her favorite place to be.

“When was it?” Lucy asks suddenly.

“What?” Ona mumbles almost sleepily, pulling her face out of Lucy’s neck.

“You and this… Maria”

“Oh. It was way before you.”

“Well, I hope so. I’d have to kill her otherwise.”

Ona giggles lightly, kissing her girlfriend softly on her lips. She missed this feeling too, Lucy’s lips are way softer than she expects at first. And she loves it.

“It was before Feli. In like 2018, 2019 I think” answers Ona after the kiss, playing with Lucy’s baby hair on her neck.

“And why didn’t it work with her?”

Her tone was less aggressive now, Lucy being genuinely intrigued by the answer. Ona almost never talks about her past relationships; Lucy isn’t even sure that she can name all of Ona’s exes.

“I don’t really know” Ona answers “We were young and the long-distance relationship wasn’t really for us. At the end we were just fighting for everything, anytime. It was really tiring honestly. She was the one who broke up, but it was definitely better this way.”

Lucy hums, looking at her girlfriend with a thoughtful gaze. Ona didn’t take hers away, her arms still around her neck. But then Lucy seems to come back to herself and tighten her arms around Ona’s waist.

“Well, she had her chance. Now you’re mine.”

********

Hours later, Lucy’s watching Ona came back to reality under her, a smirk on her face. They had their personal celebration after the official, Lucy following Ona in her hotel room. They didn’t really ask the permission to be honest, but as soon as the door was close behind them, nothing mattered.

Letting Ona catch her breath again, Lucy kisses slowly her cheeks, her nose, her neck and every part of her face. Soon after she can feel Ona smiling under her lips and that’s the moment when she kisses her lips.

“You okay Princesa?” she whispers against her lips.

“Couldn’t be better” Ona mumbles. “You?”

“More than that” Lucy assures her.

Ona smiles but doesn’t let Lucy gets up from the bed when the English woman try to, wrapping her hands around Lucy’s body. Even under the explanation that she was just going to get them a bottle of water, Ona doesn’t release her.

“I had to live almost a month without you. Don’t hope to take a step without me being less than fifty centimeters from you.”

Lucy laughs, lying again with the Spaniard in her bed. She lets Ona’s hand stroke her body, with much more tenderness and much less eagerness and almost despair than some minutes ago.

They look at each other, each of them in her own head. Ona is thinking about their time together from the beginning, the first time they really talked at Lucy Stanisford’s wedding. How she blushed when she cross Lucy’s eyes an awful number of times during the night, before Lucy came to talk to her. They immediately click together, like to part of the same orange. Lucy was everything she always wished for and she never has been so happy in her life before her.

In Lucy’s head, however…

“I’m going to marry you, one day.”

“What?”

In fact, Ona perfectly understood the words that have just passed Lucy’s lips.

“I’m going to marry you, one day.”

Lucy does not hesitate to repeat herself, without leaving Ona’s face. It’s not a question, rather an information she gives to Ona. The brunette didn’t answer at first, before biting her lips.

“Don’t say that” she whispers.

“Why?” Lucy says, a little louder than Ona “I thought you wanted to get married?”

They had this conversation some weeks ago and Ona confessed her desire to get married with Lucy and having a family with her too. It was something Lucy wanted to too, so Ona’s reaction is a little hard to understand for her at this moment.

“I do” the Spaniard answers, taking one of Lucy’s hands in hers to play with her fingers. “But my abuela always said not to talk about the things we want too often because it attracts the evil eye or bad luck. And what you just said... there’s nothing I want more than that."

Lucy holds back from rolling eyes in front of so much superstition, content to deposit a delicate kiss on the lips of her girlfriend.

"There is no evil eye, no bad luck, no one who will stop us. Don’t worry about that."

It’s hard for Ona not to believe what Lucy just said. Although the words were whispered, there is such a strength of conviction in each of them that Ona cannot doubt it.

"I love you, Ona. I love you so much and I swear I will fight for us every day of my life if I have to. You are my everything, no one will ever take that away from you."

Ona’s crying now, overwhelmed by so much love. She takes Lucy’s face between her hands and kiss her with all the love, the affection and the passion she has for her. She’s not sure that it proves almost the half of all her feelings, but she try.

And she will try maybe a lot of time more this same night.

#woso imagine #ona batlle #woso fanfics #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle #lucy bronze #lucy bronze imagine

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accirax · 3 months

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Danganronpa: Despair Time Mastermind Ranking (Least to Most)

Yeah, I should’ve known that I needed to get around to this someday.

You see, the reason why I hadn’t made a theory about the identity of the Despair Time mastermind is that… I'm not totally convinced on any one person being the mastermind. Like, look at these clowns! They’re all so weird! I love them all for it, obviously, but none of their personality quirks or roles in the story stand out to me as particularly mastermind-y. There are a lot of characters that I believe could be the mastermind, but it’s also pretty easy to convince me out of it for one reason or another.

However, it’s not like I had any idea about who the P:EG mastermind would be, either! At least with two chapters under its belt, I can feel more comfortable that I’m not just fully mischaracterizing the Despair Time cast. And I definitely have things to say about various DRDT masterminds, just… in a way that’s kinda hard to rank.

But, that’s no reason for me to be cowardly! I’m sure that seriously scrutinizing all of the characters’ mastermind potentials and ultimately coming up with who I think the most likely candidate is will be super fun. It’s just… going to be really long, so, buckle in. And maybe prepare to take breaks in the middle.

(Spoilers for all three main canon games and DRDT.)

Why is it going to be so long? Well, it’s because, when it comes to DRDT, I think that my predictions will be at least partially based on how long I think each character will make it into the story. If I have a particularly strong inclination that a character is going to die in Chapter 3.456, no matter how unfounded, it might make me feel worse about their prospects of being the mastermind. That’s not to say that a mastermind can’t appear to die (or actually die) before Chapter 6 rolls around, of course. However, it is an uncommon additional hurdle to the story that would require some justification and a little suspension of disbelief if I’m trying to call it years before it transpires.

So, if we’re going to talk about the mastermind, I need to share my current feelings about where each character might place in the death order. Should I update the title…?

Danganronpa: Despair Time Mastermind Ranking (Least to Most) AND ALSO Death Order Predictions

These are my mastermind rankings, so my opinions on where the characters might be headed will obviously be used as the baseline. Naturally, you don’t need to believe in anything I'm about to throw out here. I’m just trying to explain my thought process so that nothing I say later on will come as a total surprise.

Also, since it’s kind of long, here’s the top of the death order section. I think it’ll provide some important context, but if you want to skip it, look for the other green, bold text.

Some of my thoughts were inspired by anderscim’s death predictions theory, as I read that pretty soon after I joined the fandom. I encourage you to go read their work as well!

The tiers are mostly pretty self explanatory– 3-4 means I think they’re at risk of dying sooner and 4-5 means I think they’re at risk of dying later. But, I’ll give everyone what I hope to be a quick rundown on each character just to explain my thinking.

Xander: Xander canonically died as the Chapter 1 victim.

Min: Min canonically died as the Chapter 1 blackened.

Arei: While I respect the concept, I personally don’t believe in the “J and Arei swapped places and Arei is actually still alive” theory, and I will be writing the rest of this post accordingly. So, to me, Arei canonically died as the Chapter 2 victim.

Eden: Pretty much anyone who’s seen my DRDT theories at this point shouldn't be surprised that I’m listing Eden as the Chapter 2 killer. The logic behind this belief has been explained by my lovely mutuals here and here.

Levi: Alright, on to the ones I don’t have any concrete evidence to support! (There is concrete evidence behind the ch2 murder, even if you believe it points elsewhere.) Levi has had a decent amount of focus already in his trainwreck of a relationship with Ace and discussions of morality with Eden and Teruko. If he does serve as an accomplice to the Chapter 2 killer (see the first link in Eden’s section), then I feel like his clock will really be ticking. He’d be trapped with the branding of a bad person, his greatest fear, and left without any relationships to lean on. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone targeted him as a victim they “believed deserved to die after what happened,” or even if Levi decided that he was doomed to be a villain from the start and decided to kill. Alternatively, he could try to redeem himself as a classic Chapter 4 buff curse sacrifice in some way. In either case (or even in the case of him just being the Chapter 2 killer), I have my doubts that he’ll be making it too much later into the game.

Arturo: To me, Arturo doesn’t feel like a character set up for incredible longevity. That doesn’t mean I’m pigeonholing him as a one-dimensional villain or pure comedic relief, just that Arturo seems like a character who might be set up to have his ideology lead to his downfall. I don’t think he’s dying in Chapter 2, as I believe the narrative would want to see how he reacts to J burning the bridges between them, but I could definitely see the story only needing one more round of daily life (or possibly a trial as well) to resolve wherever his character is going.

Charles: Look, it’s not only because he’s already been pronounced dead at 3. As I elaborated upon in Charles’ section of this post (The Jerk), Charles feels like he’s speeding towards the end of his character arc far ahead of schedule. It could just be that he needed to learn to make friends quickly before Whit makes an early exit, sending him on a secondary arc where he learns to process his current grief and fears as a parallel to regaining memories about Elliot. However, I find it much more likely that the Inevitable CharWhit Doom Scenario plays out in the opposite direction. He makes a lot of sense as a Chapter 3 victim to me.

Nico: Similar to Arei and J, I am writing all of my theories with the assumption that it really was Nico who attempted to murder Ace in Chapter 2, because I think it makes the most narrative sense. (I could keep typing out a “well, unless” every time, but I don’t really want to eat up my time writing or your time reading all of that.) Through that lens, the fact that Nico has already murdered someone and “gotten away with it,” more or less, puts them in a really weird situation. I don’t really see them killing again, as it feels like we’ve already explored the emotional and narrative implications of that happening through Chapter 2. Although, I can’t deny that it would be interesting to see the fallout of Ace being proven totally right and Hu 100% wrong. Still, if they were to be a survivor after doing something so severe so early into the game, it seems like they would have to undergo some sort of redemption for the audience to accept them as a face of hope in the end. I don’t currently see any great paths to that happening, although there’s obviously still plenty of story time for something to open up. For now, though, I feel more confident in placing them as a early/mid-game victim, likely as a consequence of choosing to harm someone else.

Hu: Given her overall lack of focus in the story thus far, I find it likely that Hu will be one of the focal characters of the Chapter 3 daily life. That could be bad news, considering how Xander and Arei fared after being focused upon in their respective daily lives, but… I dunno, I just feel like Hu would survive it, somehow? Wouldn’t be too surprised if she didn’t, but my gut instinct is that she would. I kind of see her character exiting the story in Chapter 4, no preference on killer vs victim.

Veronika: Veronika is a very weird character (an “oddball,” I’ll call it), and thus, my predictions for her are strongly based on the patterns that oddball characters normally follow. I’ll be using canon characters only, because I believe that those are the only killing games that I have the right to assume every DRDT fan has seen. But, you can apply these same kinds of patterns to many fangan characters. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for fangans breaking from typical Danganronpa norms and following their own paths. But, in the case of how oddballs are treated, I think these characters generally tend to follow these patterns because they’re sensible writing practices. I’ll try to explain why each of these conventions makes sense in the following bullet points.

Oddballs tend not to die in Chapters 1 or 2. This is because oddball characters are generally created to supply a very niche kind of comedic relief– examples from DRDT could include Arturo’s commentary on ugly people or Ace’s bizarre remarks of cowardice. Any character deemed worthy of being included in a fangan occupies one of 16 highly contested slots. So, if you include a character for the purpose of making jokes with them, you'll want to get your bang for your buck! It’s hard to fit every joke you have in mind into only a chapter or two. The best example I could come up with for a (canon) oddball who dies early is Teruteru. In his case, the writers likely anticipated that his hyper-flirtatious nature would get tiring if it continued on for too long, and thus, exhausted all of the jokes they wanted to make in Chapter 1 before his exit. An oddball who dies this early has a limited shelf life, and is likely accompanied by other oddballs who can pick up the comedic slack.

Many have pointed out that silly oddballs often die in Chapter 3 (Hifumi, Ibuki, Tenko) as a way to signify the death of fun and innocence. You also have a chance to get rid of some of the more sinister oddballs (Celeste, Kiyo) at a point where it seems unfeasible for them to have stuck around this long without… well, killing someone. In either case, it’s because Chapter 3 is a great balance of letting a character stay in a story for long enough that they achieve whatever strange effects you wanted from them, while also clearing them off the stage before you get into the really serious business. Silly oddballs especially may not be equipped to handle the often turbulent natures of Chapter 4 without breaking the serious tone too much, so it’s best to axe them at the midpoint.

Endearing oddballs (Gundham, Gonta) have a hard time making it past Chapter 4. If Chapter 4 is serious, Chapters 5 and 6 are even more so, and the Chapter 4 killer slot in particular is a viable dumping ground for characters who don’t really have a place in the finale. Their deaths are meant to pull at your heartstrings and prove how a killing game can make literally anyone– yes, even that guy– a killer. (Miu is an outlier; more like an extended Chapter 3. Unlike THH, which has its tonal shift at the end-of-Ch3-Sakura Traitor Reveal, and SDR2, which has its tonal shift at Mikan’s insanity and death, v3’s tonal shift comes at Kokichi's accusation and Kaito and Shuichi's argument, or possibly even Miu's death itself. The Chapter 4 Daily Life isn’t all that serious in and of itself. Thus, Miu dying as a Ch4 victim functions more like killing off a silly oddball before she has to deal with all the betrayal and scheming that occurs later on.)

Oddballs really only die in Chapter 5 to the extent that you can count major antagonists like Nagito and Kokichi as Weird Dudes. As the precursor to the big, showstopping, mind-bending Chapter 5 Trial, the mood is typically pretty… straightforward. Depending on the overall plot’s arc, Chapter 5 is either the point where most of the surviving students are concluding their character arcs and learning how potent a weapon teamwork is (THH, SDR2), or a “dark night of the soul” type moment where all of the slowly growing inter-character conflicts are finally coming to a head (v3). It can also be Version A for some characters and Version B for others, but, either way, hijinks are not ensuing, basically. Plot relevant things happen here, and as such, plot relevant characters are the ones who are dying. It can be hard for an oddball to find a place in the narrative relevant enough to serve as one of its final, poignant deaths without also being a major antagonist.

Despite everything I’ve said about oddballs dying, it is definitely possible for oddballs to survive. Danganronpa is, at its core, a dark comedy, and as such killing off all of your funny joke characters before the ending is probably a bad move. Hiro, Toko, Kazuichi, and Himiko are all characters I’d call oddballs that survive until the very end. The difference in their case is that part of their oddball nature is being… kind of pathetic? I think it helps them fade into the background more. It's also probably easier to give them a character arc than some others... like Veronika.

I’m sure that you can find exceptions to these “rules” I’ve laid out, especially amongst casts that have a high percentage of oddballs (which you could certainly argue fits DRDT). However, pattern recognition brain go brrrr. I don’t think that Veronika fits the description of a Chapter 1-2, Chapter 4, or survivor oddball particularly well. That leaves Chapter 3 (sinister) and Chapter 5 (bewildering antagonist). I don’t know if it’s that Veronika doesn't seem to have much of a reason to kill at this point in time or all of Veronika’s weird mastermind coding that makes me think DRDTdev might have greater plans for her. Either way, I’m leaning Chapter 5, probably victim. Jeez, that was a long section for one character. Favoritism, I guess?

J: J gets her own category because, honestly, I have no idea what to do with her. Could J make it to the end? Sure! Could J die in a Chapter 3 scheme? Sure! Could J be the Chapter 2 killer? Well, I personally believe the evidence points elsewhere, but in terms of narrative? Sure! The only real inclination I have is that I think it’s more likely that she would be a killer than a victim, mostly because Ultimate Effects Artist is a talent that could lend itself to some really creative and fun murder setups. Given that I have more characters pegged as early game deaths right now, I lean towards J late game, but… man, I don’t know!

Teruko: Teruko is the protagonist, and also is a Lucky Student who allegedly “can’t die.” Especially after she made that claim, it would be silly if she died before the ending– it’d just kinda make her look like a fool. I’m not averse to theories where Teruko is no longer the protagonist by the end, whether by her death or someone else taking up the role for whatever reason, but in the sense that “Survivor” = “Chapter 6,” I think Teruko will survive. I’m not here to predict crazy last-minute Kiibo-blowing-himself-up twists.

Rose: I think that Rose has a really nice arc of overcoming her fears and becoming less passive set up in front of her. We spent enough time establishing her relationship with Teruko that I could see her being a good potential friend/support character to Teruko in the endgame if relationships with people like Eden or Charles fall through. (And, at this point, you know what I think about Eden and Charles…) She’s also good at delivering low-key jokes that can provide some levity without totally ruining the tone. We already saw some of that in this scene. The main things that I think could be standing in her way are her photographic memory and history of debt. The photographic memory could be too annoying of an obstacle to write around for the entire game, and instead be an ongoing effect set to expire in in Chapter 3. Additionally, a money motive paralleling THH’s in Chapter 3 could be too tempting for Rose to pass up. Really, what I’m saying is, if Rose can make it through Chapter 3, I think she’s golden. We’ll just have to see how that Chapter pans out in the future.

David: Oh, David. Currently serving as Teruko’s largest antagonist, I can see why people would think that he would die in Chapter 5. However, I’m not going to beat around the bush and pretend that I’m the only person who thinks David might survive, either. As an inspirational speaker, David is established early on as a character who should be a beacon of hope, before revealing that he’s more of a hope-sucking black hole. It would make sense if, alongside Teruko, he learns to find more of a balance between blithe optimism and cynical depression and heal as a person. He has a lot of very obvious depth that I think a lot of people want to see explored, and whose exploration would be very on-brand for the themes of a typical killing game story. Plus, if Teruko ever does stop being the protagonist, David probably needs to be alive at that point to pick up the slack.

Ace: Similar to Nico, it seems like we’ve already gotten a taste of what Ace being a victim would be like, in a way where I don’t think we’re going to see it again. He could still be a killer, but would the cowardly Ace even want to attempt killing someone and throwing himself into the scrutiny of a Class Trial? Well, it is true that Ace believes that “[neither] dying young or living a long, shitty life of suffering… are as bad as this” (the killing game?). So, he could simply grow fed up with the killing game and decide that risking a Class Trial is worth it, even if he does wind up dying young. However, if that were to occur, Chapter 2 seems like the narratively best time to do it, as it’s when his emotions are most potent and probably when others would least expect him to do it due to his weakened state. Like Rose, I feel the period Ace has most to worry about is this upcoming Chapter 2 killer slot, but if he makes it through, his arc of learning to escape his fear by bravely rising above it instead of lashing out to try to knock everyone down feels very viable.

Whit: The pro of the Inevitable CharWhit Doom Scenario is that, hopefully, one of the two would manage to make it as a survivor after the other one dies. And, I’m Team Whit Surviving! Not just based on which of the two I like better (they’re my first and second favorite characters, so I’m taking a massive L either way), but because I think it makes more sense for it to be Whit that lives further on. Unlike Charles, who feels like he’s already in the final lap of the character arc race, Whit has barely left the starting line. The laundry scene in Chapter 1 and Whit’s secret in Chapter 2 have both been used to establish that Whit focuses on his and others’ bliss in hopes of remaining ignorant of everything that stresses him. The main offender, of course, being that Whit lies about his mom being alive to presumably stave off his grief. The easiest way to give him a character arc that resolves that issue is to give him something to grieve– namely, Charles– and soon. If Whit’s main character struggle is pretending that people dying doesn’t bother him, he might need an entire Chapter or more to stubbornly show off his central flaw. Now, it is possible that, if Whit can’t overcome this flaw, he could die soon after Charles and meet a tragic fate. But, those just… aren’t the vibes, to me? A post-character arc Whit who knows how to grieve fiercely but healthily might come in handy if Teruko finds herself handling her own emotions about Xander, Min, and/or anyone else at the end of the game.

And here’s the bottom of the death order section!

Finally finished writing something that nobody asked of me at all. Well, I still think it was important, and I hope you feel the same.

Now that we’ve laid all that out, I think it’s finally time to actually see who I think the Danganronpa: Despair Time mastermind might be! Although, please keep in mind that, despite the large preamble full of story predictions, I’m still pretty uncertain on who I think the mastermind is. So, my points might not be the best supported, and I might change my mind again pretty soon after I post this theory. I expect to be far better at disproving why everyone is the mastermind rather than proving why anyone would be, because that’s generally how I feel… but, onwards we go!

#17: Arei Nageishi

(Forgive me for reusing art here, I’ve drawn these bastards ENOUGH /j)

If I were writing this after Despair Time’s prologue, like I did with P:EG, there’s a pretty good chance that Arei, at the very least, wouldn’t have placed dead last. But, well, now Arei is dead. And also last.

Obviously, there are other dead characters too. But still, Arei is the one who I most struggle to see as the mastermind. Given that Arei died as a victim whose body was thoroughly investigated by several parties, it’s pretty hard for me to believe that anyone could have missed any signs of life. I don’t get the sense that DRDT is in some kind of simulation where everyone can magically be alive again at the end either, so I think Arei is, sadly, well and truly dead.

On top of all that, we know a lot about her backstory from her Chapter 2 breakdown, and none of it seems to point her towards masterminding a killing game specifically. She doesn’t have any particular ties to any big organizations that would have helped her accomplish it, either. While she is NOT just a temporary weather spell whose absence will be celebrated and then forgotten, David… I have a hard time believing that the audience would find her character relevant enough(?) to be a good twist mastermind come Chapter 6 several years down the line.

I don’t think I really need to keep elaborating on this. Arei isn’t the mastermind.

#16: Charles Cuevas

I know it’s a bit of a bold move to put a character who’s currently alive below characters who have already died, but… man, I really just don’t see how Charles could pull this off.

And it’s not (just) because I think he’s going to die in Chapter 3 as part of Whit’s character arc, or that I want to believe that he’s a good person. Really, it’s mostly because of his phobias. How is a guy who started gagging at the sight of blood splattered on the floor supposed to be the one who orchestrated an entire death game? Could he get through the process of creating a brutal execution like Min’s without freezing up and freaking out? Even if he could do it, why would he? Sure, he didn’t seem to remember the fact that he had necrophobia until Xander died, but that might be even more of a problem. Wouldn’t the mastermind, who’s certainly had to consider the others’ deaths before, remember that they were afraid of death? He would almost certainly have to be lying about at least the scale of his reaction, although that’s probably a given if he is the mastermind.

Of course, there are mastermind subcategories that could better benefit Charles. If DRDT is actually a simulation, especially one in which the participants don’t actually die, that would definitely make it easier for him to be the one behind it. We’re also meant to believe that Charles has childhood amnesia, so he could have amnesia in other areas as well and be a mastermind who forgot they were one.

However, as I said before, I don’t particularly believe that DRDT is going to be a computer simulation or that Charles is an amnesiac mastermind. I just… don’t see this one in general.

#15: Xander Matthews

Let me preface this by saying that I’m not trying to argue that Xander is actually still alive. The concept that he would be able to fool not only Min, making her believe that she dealt him a fatal blow, but also everyone else as they identified his body, seems outlandish to me. However, just because Xander is dead doesn’t mean that he couldn’t have entered this game as the mastermind.

We know for a fact that Xander wanted to kill Teruko due to his dialogue regarding the note he received, which lines up well with the popular theory that Xander is the individual speaking in the first scene with the papers and the blood. If we assume he is that guy, then it may seem a little counterintuitive to think that the person who says “I have to end the killing game” would be the one behind the killing game. However, he also says, “Even if I can’t do that… I have to kill Teruko Tawaki,” implying that killing Teruko is of a higher priority than ending “the killing game.” Thus, if, for some reason, Xander thought that orchestrating the killing game was the only way to kill Teruko, it’s possible that he would be willing to let the death game roll for as long as it takes to eliminate his bigger target.

However, I can’t deny that the Xander mastermind theory has some massive flaws to it. For one, Xander is dead. I don’t think we’ve technically seen any evidence that the mastermind has to still be alive as of Chapter 2, but a mastermind-less Chapter 6 would be… an interesting challenge to write, to say the least. Also, while Xander betraying Teruko and the others was a great surprising hook the first time, if it happened again, it would be kind of… underwhelming, in my opinion. It’s the same kind of concept I brought up in my Eden’s Garden ranking:

Then, in Chapter 6, we’d be faced with the revelation that, wow, the mildly antagonistic character was actually a really antagonistic character all along! It just doesn’t seem like enough of a dramatic hook to me, I guess?

“Wow, the guy who betrayed Teruko and became a killer actually betrayed Teruko and was the mastermind all along! And now, he’s not even around to reap the social or karmic consequences of it!” You see.

And then, there is the literal interpretation of the text that Xander (if he is bloody hands man) obviously stands against the killing games. He’s also the Ultimate Rebel, someone who stands against corrupt institutions in general.

If Xander is revealed to be evil later down the line, it would make much more sense if it was as a traitor type. As for being the one and only mastermind, I think the odds are pretty low.

#14: Ace Markey

Hey, it’s another character that’s alive! And, this one doesn’t even have a crippling fear of death. However, he is a massive coward, and that’s the main thing that’s dragging him down for me.

Similar to Charles, what would Ace stand to gain from hosting a killing game such as this? Ace doesn’t seem to have any interest in notoriety, money, the destruction of society, despair, or any other things that I can think of that would motivate a typical mastermind. We’ve seen time and time again that Ace cares most about having control over both his life and how other people see him, even though he often fails on both fronts. I guess both of those things could be solved by hosting a killing game, but… Come on, there have gotta be easier ways to do that which don’t threaten your precious life.

Furthermore, what exactly would Ace being the mastermind have to say about the story as a whole? Jockey has to be in the running for “talents that are least relevant to a potential killing game host.” How about the idea that the mastermind nearly died in Chapter 2, only to go off the rails threatening and blaming his assailant? I… always knew that Nico was… fully in the right for doing that, because it would have killed the big bad early??? Ace Mastermind is the preferred ending for those who believe that Nico can do absolutely no wrong, lol.

I can’t remember where I saw it, but I once saw a theory of writing that said that there are two major kinds of character arcs. One is the typical character arc, where the narrative pushes a character's traits to change over the course of the story for better of for worse. The other, this theory posited, was an arc on the part of the viewer, where they learn that a character that they thought was flawed was actually not as flawed as they thought all along. You could potentially apply this kind of thing to Eden: in the first chapter, some people may have seen her as a dim-witted positive girl, but in Chapter 2, we firmly establish that her kindness is not stupidity and learn how her optimism is a strength.

So, you could say that the character arc DRDTdev is going for with Ace is something more like that, where we spend the entire game learning to treat him more seriously just in time for him to be a real threat as the mastermind? It still feels like a bit of a stretch, though– I don’t know exactly what Ace would do to make us take him more seriously that wouldn’t either send him on a growth arc not super befitting of a mastermind or wind up with him being a blackened. Ace as the mastermind certainly isn’t impossible, but I obviously found it unlikely enough that I placed him below one character who is currently (presumed) dead.

#13: Arturo Giles

Arturo’s role in the story so far is not very mastermind-ish, in my mind. In the prologue, we establish him as a cold and judgmental person who puts his own opinions of how the world works over everything else, especially how other people feel. This already feels like how a mastermind would act, so if he turned out to be the mastermind, it would be more of the same.

Then, in Chapter 2, we establish that he’s a massive simp for celebrities, to the point of transforming into something adjacent to comedic relief. We’re meant to think that his over-the-top sprites and refusal to actually listen to anything J is saying is hilariously pathetic. Other characters are constantly dunking on him, such as Teruko calling him a “bigoted” “crazy person,” and even the narrative gets in on the action when highlighting how he cares less about the fact that J’s life was at risk than that she didn’t come out of it with drip. Narratively, we’ve already seen these characters get the better of Arturo. If we the audience interpret that as confirmation that the surviving cast could easily beat Arturo should he ever come to stand in their way, it could diminish the stakes upon his mastermind reveal.

However, for all of his negatives, there are some definite positives to Arturo being the mastermind, too. Despite his comedic effects, we have seen through his threats to Eden that Arturo is very capable of being very scary in a way that I don’t think we have with Ace. The horror factor of a plastic surgeon as the mastermind could be a really fun and creepy design theme to explore. And, Arturo is obviously super obsessed with celebrities. If hosting a deadly TV show is what he thought it would take to get him in with the Hollywood celebrity scene, he might be willing to go for it.

I don’t really know why he would have made his secret what it is if he was going to get that upset about it, though. I guess if there just weren’t any better options that wouldn’t tip his hand…? Also, Arturo would blend in terribly as a survivor. If you’re heading into Chapter 6 and you have to pick the evil character out of (let me spin a wheel real quick...) Teruko, Eden, Rose, Charles, and Arturo, Arturo is definitely the evil one. (Okay, that was actually a terrible randomized draw for Arturo on the innocence front, but I hope you can imagine how he would oddly stick out of most groups.) Like I said in his death predictions, I find it hard to imagine a character arc for Arturo, which is why I find it hard to believe that he would make it as far as Chapter 6.

#12: Min Jeung

Honestly, if Min weren’t (most likely) dead, she might be pretty high on my list of mastermind choices. While not as suspicious as the Spurlings, XF-Ture Tech is pretty suspicious, even more so with the introduction of that one altDRDT character. Min is related to XF-Ture Tech, so if that company has anything to do with the operation of the killing game, she could have been the one behind it. Min is also very smart, and her talent has obvious applications for how it could have been used to set up/influence the killing game. The fact that her talent is so similar to Teruko’s, Ultimate Student versus Ultimate Lucky Student, could have also set them up for some great parallels and duality down the line.

However… Min’s role as the Chapter 1 killer throws a pretty big wrench in her chances. Beyond the dying part, Min’s role as the blackened was incredibly evitable. It’s not like she was thrown into a situation where she had to kill or be killed, or even one where a motive was particularly difficult for her. If she wanted to be the mastermind and survive until the end, all she had to do was walk away from Xander stabbing Teruko and pretend she never saw it. However, if Min’s goal was the inverse of ol’ Bloody Hands (keep the killing game running, but most importantly, keep Teruko alive), her actions could line up. And then, perhaps Min could have falsified her own execution early to draw suspicion off of her, much like Junko did by killing Mukuro.

Beyond her death, though, it’s really Min’s reaction to being the blackened that makes me think she can’t be the mastermind. The stellar voice acting in Min’s breakdown scenes makes me really believe both that this was the first time she had ever hurt anyone as gravely as she did to Xander, and that she fully believed that she was about to die. Those are two things that a mastermind, especially one headed into a fake execution, would not be feeling. Maybe Min memorized how to be a great actress too amongst all those textbooks, but I doubt it. I can still see several reasons why Min would have been a good mastermind, but her actual death and her reaction to being told she was dying knock her down several pegs in my mind.

#11: Hu Jing

Hu is a bit more suspicious to me than some others just because I think she has something to hide. Between her refusal to share whose secret she received or had herself, mysterious “I want to pay for what I’ve done” hidden quote, and intense desire to be relied upon, there’s definitely something about Hu as a person that the narrative has yet to uncover. Could that something be “Hu is the mastermind”? I dunno, maybe.

Hu also has a tendency to react to things with her temper. That could be a sort of foreshadowing to how she would act as the mastermind, much like how David’s brief spell of apathy during the prologue hinted at the way he would act further down the line. Hu’s defense of Nico could act much the same way. Our overall impression of Hu at this point is that, while she is a flawed person, she’s one of the nicest and morally best people in the game, who’s always looking out for others. Defending Nico to the point of babying them might cross the line a little, but she’s only trying to help everyone…! Hu could make it to the end as a believably heroic survivor and then reveal that all of her presumed poor decisions were actually active malice, and I think she could pull that off.

All that being said… I don’t, like, actually think that’s going to happen. In fact, I’m probably overexaggerating the extent to which people think that Hu is nice and morally good. I’ve seen several people discuss the unjust amounts of hate Hu gets in this fandom, which implies that a lot of people hate her, even if I haven’t particularly seen much of it myself. At the very least, I definitely over exaggerated the extent to which people believe Hu could survive! As implied in the death order predictions, I do personally think Hu is going to die, possibly as a consequence of getting too invested in everyone else’s business when they don’t want her to be and/or wearing herself too thin. There are paths which I believe could lead to Hu being the mastermind, but they seem to be the roads less likely traveled.

#10: David Chiem

While I have no doubts that David has the fame, charisma, and worldview to pull off a killing game… I’d have to wonder about how he would see himself playing into all of it. As we saw in Chapter 2, David knows that his career has a lot of value, possibly to himself but definitely to other people, and therefore, he doesn’t want to jeopardize it. In fact, the reveal of his manipulative secret was the inciting incident behind his massive change in characterization. So, if he were the mastermind of a televised killing game… How would he think that would play out to his viewers?

Now, to be fair, there’s a lot we don’t know about the worldbuilding of DRDT. MonoTV claims that the TV show will be broadcast to a widespread audience. Perhaps that indicates that, in the world of DRDT, publicly broadcasting talented young peoples’ violent deaths is normal, or even sought after. Maybe the cast of DRDT forgot about it.

However, David seems to think that people learning that he sees everyone as manipulable would do damage to his reputation, so it’s a bit of a contradiction either way. If the world has been wracked with despair and craves intense violence on TV, then David’s reaction to his secret is either an elaborate lie or the result of the mastermind erasing his own memories regarding the situation. (Or, I guess the public could see death as fine and dandy but manipulation as a cancellable offense, which is… one of the interpretations ever.) Otherwise, in the scenario that the DRDT world is a normal one, David wouldn’t care about being revealed as a manipulator if he’d already committed to the mastermind bit. If his career was already preemptively ruined by agreeing to commit literal murder, why get so worked up about the thought that people might abandon ship over you not being 100% honest?

And then, there’s also the whole “surprise factor” thing that I keep bringing up. Admittedly, it’s been a longer hiatus between the start of Chapter 2 and the end of Chapter 2 than DRDTdev might have been hoping for, but that doesn’t change the fact that this part of David’s characterization happened in Chapter 2. DRDT fans far and wide have written thousands of words gushing over “the David reveal” or “evil David.” If David were unveiled as the mastermind, we’d have to start writing stuff about “the first David reveal” or “when David showed his true colors again.” You see how it kind of takes the hype away from such major plot points? That’s the sort of concept I’ve been trying to get across with some of my other choices too, but a bit more clear cut.

I don’t know why I sound so much like a hater in this section (in my opinion) when I’m literally putting David at #10, above seven other characters. I guess it’s because I can see why his theatricality and traits foiling Teruko could make him a good mastermind, but also have some major issues with the logistics of him getting there. A lot of good points versus a lot of bad points settle out to him winding up someone in the middle.

#9: Levi Fontana

With our first single digit number, we’ve also reached our midway point of mastermind candidates: Levi!

Levi would be a really interesting mastermind choice because of how his character centers around grappling with his morality. I think it would be really intriguing to have a mastermind outwardly struggling with their attempts and failures to be a good person throughout the entire game, only for the player and the characters to receive the full context of the debacle at the very end. I guess in this situation, it would be pretty likely that Levi would be redeemed at the end? That’s not necessarily a problem. (Honestly, I don’t know if I think the DRDT mastermind could be redeemed or not based on the fangan’s themes… that’s a post for another day, perhaps.)

Anyways, I think that what we know of Levi’s backstory could work well with him being the mastermind. If he does have the “murderer without remorse” secret, that would be in line with orchestrating a killing game. We also know that he’s “been disowned” and that he and his family were “all bad influences on each other.” We’re meant to assume that Levi was fortunate enough to escape a bad/abusive situation (and in all likelihood this IS what actually happened!!!!), but we are hearing about the situation from his point of view alone. There is a small possibility that, if Levi is actually a despair enjoyer, his family cut him out because they thought he was a danger to their lives.

I will reiterate again, though, that I don’t think this is the case. Levi seems like he’s a chill guy, or at least that he’s trying very hard to be one despite how he’s been told to react all his life. The whole “mastermind wanting to become a good person” lens also makes less sense given how channeled Levi’s development is through Ace. Like, I would imagine that, if this were the angle DRDTdev was going for, Levi would be making an effort to get along with everyone as part of his atonement. The mastermind randomly choosing to focus on just one person out of the crowd seems kind of strange, especially when that person is someone as disagreeable as Ace. That kind of plot would have big “the mafia CEO vampire prince fell head over heels in love with me, the random average girl” vibes. Repenting mastermind Levi is the preferred ending for pining lovers to enemies to lovers AceVi shippers, lol.

And then there’s the part where I think he’s going to die. I don’t think Levi is the worst mastermind choice, but I think there are better out there.

#8: Nico Hakobyan

Yay, we finally got to one of the characters that Anon thought was suspicious! It only took… 7k+ words. Oh boy.

I definitely think that the cat coding is the strongest thing that Nico has going for them. It would be pretty funny if the extent to which “Ultimate Pet Therapist” is relevant to the plot is the climactic reveal that “yeah Nico has been talking to a (robotic) animal the whole time.” That’s a joke, as Ultimate Pet Therapist is already quite relevant to Nico’s characterization as someone who prefers communicating with animals over people, but it would be funny as hell from a character designing perspective.

There are less silly reasons to believe that Nico is the mastermind too, though. While it seems like, similar to David, pulling the trigger on Nico’s change in behavior in Chapter 2 would be a bit early, I don’t think it’s as destructive to mastermind Nico as it is to mastermind David. There’s a lot more doubt in people’s minds that Nico even did anything to Ace, to the extent that a decent number of people (in the story and out of it) think that it was someone else trying to kill Ace entirely. Nico also has a stalwart defender in Hu, which adds an extra level of intrigue to the situation. Instead of confirming that everyone was right to be suspicious of David, at least some amount of focus could be placed onto Hu being wrong for trusting Nico and failing to see someone’s true colors again, which could be interesting for her characterization if she was alive at that point.

On the other hand, the biggest reason that I think Nico isn’t the mastermind is also because of the attempted Ace murder. Why would Nico, as the mastermind, try to kill Ace at this time? If Nico wins the Class Trial, then the killing game is over, which is probably counter to the mastermind’s goals. If Nico loses the Class Trial, well, we’ll say that the possibility of Nico dying isn’t an issue, as they could just fake their own death or deny entering the execution. But still, why?

It could be that Nico was trying to remove themselves from the killing game on purpose, but I don’t see why it would be necessary. No one was particularly suspicious of Nico being the mastermind, and if they were worried about their gender identity getting out, they could have simply made their secret something else. A mastermind could kill to avoid the killing game falling into a standstill, but tensions were really high at the time that Ace almost died! With a full day left to go before the motive secrets were revealed, such drastic action wasn’t yet forced. I guess the best option would be that Nico was just really angered by what Ace said, and wanted to retaliate as part of their vicious mastermind nature. Is that worth taking yourself out of the killing game and risking the show’s termination, though…?

There is also the possibility that Nico is the mastermind, but didn’t try to kill Ace. In that case, suspicion of Nico would be such a huge in-universe coincidence that I’m doubtful DRDTdev would have included it as a major plot point.

Speaking of “show’s termination,” I also don’t know why Nico would have any involvement in creating a TV show, both from a backstory/talent perspective and a personality one. Nico doesn’t like interacting with people. Therefore, I don’t know what would possess them to want to create and join a TV show for which the major draw is a big stressful discussion between a bunch of people.

I guess I had fewer reasons why I thought Nico would be the mastermind than I thought. I would love to hear more details about why you suspect Nico though, Anon! I’m definitely willing to believe that they could be the mastermind.

#7: Eden Tobisa

Make no mistake, I still think that Eden is the Chapter 2 killer. However, in the case that she isn’t… mastermind isn’t a terrible choice for her.

The biggest draw of Eden being the mastermind would definitely be the shock value. The seemingly nicest character suddenly being revealed as the mastermind would create a huge hurdle for the surviving characters to overcome. Teruko especially, given that she probably would have grown at least a tad closer to Eden if they survived five chapters together. It would be a little mean to give Teruko a trustworthy friend just to rip it away from her again, but I could see the opportunity being used to highlight Teruko’s growth. When Xander and Min betrayed Teruko, she panicked and shut everyone out, but when Eden betrays Teruko at the very end, she’s able to remain strong and rely on the other friends who she continues to trust. Or DRDT could have an unconventional feel-bad ending, I suppose.

If some kind of time loop is at play within DRDT, then Eden’s talent would obviously be thematically and perhaps practically relevant as well. I could see a lot of comparisons being made regarding a killing game being run “like clockwork.” Her secret quote “you can’t go back, no matter how hard you try” is... actually kind of anti-time loop, but at least the concept of going back in time is somewhat related…? Speaking of secret quotes, her Mai quote, “she kept calling the number, even though no one picked it up” is also really weird. That suspicious hidden evidence could point to her being the mastermind.

However, Eden’s personality is a pretty major issue when it comes to her being the mastermind. Shock value is great in the moment, but it can ring hollow in retrospect if people find that the twist doesn’t make any sense. Masterminds aren’t typically known for their kindness or optimism. So, if Eden is the mastermind, it seems like her whole “even if this world is cruel, I’ll still make the choice to be kind” speech is a complete lie. And, that would be a shame! I don’t think that having an unexpected mastermind at the end of the game is worth the cost of completely demolishing a character that we’ve come to know and love over the course of six chapters and several years. (I’m not saying that complete demolition has to be the case if Eden is the mastermind, but I think it’s a reasonable worry that many people have.)

And, I know that all this talk about how wonderful Eden is might sound rich coming from someone who strongly believes that she just killed someone who wanted to be her best friend. But, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? As someone who thinks that Eden is the killer, I know very well how a lot of people have a really hard time believing that Eden could do something as terrible as killing Arei. I can only imagine how hard it would be to accept that Eden was the one who put Arei, Min, Teruko, and everyone else in danger, and the one pulling the strings behind every execution.

Eden as the mastermind, to me, is more tempting in concept than it would be viable in execution. And also, I don’t even think she’s going to live to see the light of Chapter 3 day. However, there’s also some definite emotional power behind the accusation that makes me see how shooting for this ambitious choice could be worth it in the long run.

#6: Whit Young

Alright, it’s finally time to talk about Whit. I know that he’s a really popular mastermind choice, but… I just don’t see it, personally. Even though I put him at 6th place. (I do not enjoy putting him in 6th place.) Is that just because he’s my favorite and I’m attached to my interpretation of the character? Perhaps. But, I’d still like to explore some points that I find faulty.

Perhaps the biggest reason behind suspicion of Whit that I’ve seen is the way that he breaks the fourth wall. People connect his asking people to pause for the evidence list to MonoTV invoking similar mechanics, and lines such as “do you really think she’d be hanging out in the playground” to him knowing more than he’s letting on. However, there are a couple of ways that this accusation can be depowered, in my opinion.

Firstly, Whit isn’t the only person who says stuff like this. Veronika alludes to the killing game before it begins, Teruko also breaks the fourth wall to tell the viewer to pause (albeit only in her thoughts, not out loud), and Arei makes the same kind of “hanging” wordplay in Eden’s flashback that Whit did. I won’t say that characters addressing the fourth wall can’t be important at all, because I believe there are some moments where the other characters commentate on how weird it is that MonoTV is talking to no one. However, I also think that breaking the fourth wall may simply be part of DRDTdev’s humor, as exemplified by that “make sure to like and subscribe so that Teruko has enough mental strength to carry on” joke. Whit is a funny guy, so it just makes sense that if DRDTdev’s brain generates funny meta jokes, Whit would get some of them. Everything that Whit says reminds me more of Mia AceAttorney saying “hit tab to open the Court Record” than some sort of groundbreaking DDLC-Undertale direct communication with the viewer. However, I can see why others would think otherwise.

The second is that I think some of Whit’s comments (more so the “dead at 3” and “hanging in the playground” than the pause) are just meant to showcase his intuition. And, yeah, it could be that DRDTdev has been leaving crumbs of Whit’s intuition behind so that in Chapter 6, he can use it to exploit everyone’s insecurities and greatest despair. To me, though, Whit’s intuition has always reminded me of the myth of Cassandra.

For those who don’t know, Cassandra is a figure in Greek mythology who was blessed/cursed to receive prophecies, but for no one to ever believe them. By my interpretation, Whit is a really smart and perceptive guy who has strikingly accurate gut feelings about how things will play out down the road, even when he doesn’t realize it himself. However, the curse of his own coping mechanism– choosing to act like an eternally cheerful goofball– leads the majority of the other students, and perhaps some of the viewers, to never take his point of view seriously. He can only realize the accuracy behind what he said after the bad things have already happened, leading him to blame himself more and more for not being able to speak up and help when times were tough.

This kind of behavior would line up with two different themes we’ve seen from Whit before. The first, that when he jokes around without thinking, he can accidentally say hurtful things that he later reprimands himself for. We saw that when Charles blew up at him at the end of their shared FTE. The second is Whit’s major theme of good things hiding a darker undercurrent. Being the Ultimate Matchmaker is great until you’ve never had a successful relationship yourself. Having an awesome mom is great until the truth comes out that she’s actually dead, and you’ve been covering it up. Growing super close to someone is great until he dies. Having an amazing intuition and understanding of everyone is great until you can never actually use it to help those you care about. Joking around is great until it's all you can do. Pretending everything is fine is great until it’s not.

Like I said, very specific interpretation. I promise I was not citing classical literature to make my argument sound smarter than it actually is. I am aware that my interpretation of Whit is no less or more valid than everyone else’s. However, it’s one that I hold very close to my heart, and thus, I personally have a hard time seeing around it.

However, I’ve also seen a lot of people argue some valid points for Whit, so I can at least acknowledge that he deserves to be in the upper echelon of choices. There’s a lot of weird stuff regarding him in Literature Girl Insane, and he’s certainly an option of someone who felt so much grief that they became totally empty inside as shown in that one hidden quote. I would be appropriately surprised and heartbroken if Whit revealed himself as the mastermind in Chapter 6, so he checks the box in that regard. There isn’t anything from his backstory that opposes the notion that he set up the killing game, and, to quote what I said about our other Ultimate Matchmaker, Toshiko…

While Ultimate Matchmaker might seem like a silly talent to give the mastermind, it could also be a ruse to distract us from the fact that [Whit] has a talent that allows [him] to read people well and make choices that will impact their lives dramatically.

I don’t like it, but I can see the argument… kind of. To me, most mastermind Whit interpretations feel like mischaracterization, but as a theorist, I always try to keep in mind that I’m the one who could be twisting the text to my whims as well. In this my-opinions-based list, though, he’s not getting any higher than 6th.

#5: Veronika Grebenshchikova

Ooh, what spooky art for a spooky mastermind. Let’s be real, though, Veronika is way too obvious of a mastermind candidate to actually be the mastermind. Unless… she’s so obvious that she loops back around to not being obvious, and thus, is the perfect mastermind candidate?!

Veronika is in a really weird place. I obviously have no doubts that she would have any moral qualms about hosting a killing game, because she’s told us herself that she doesn’t. She knows what Monokuma is in immense detail, but claims to have no idea what a killing game is. She’s dressed really similarly to Junko, though. Is that just a coincidence? Are giant pigtails also a symbol of fear in the DRDTverse? I need ANSWERS, LADY!!!

The biggest problem I see with Veronika is the potential for obviousness. Similar to Arturo, if she actually made it to Chapter 6, I feel like it would be pretty obvious what’s going on. An oddball like Veronika is not the typical survivor type (although she could break the mold). Because Teruko’s character arc is all about trusting people, it would make sense if the reveal of the mastermind was someone who challenged her trust to some degree. With Veronika being obviously unhinged the whole time, I don’t think that Teruko would have any particular difficulties with kicking her to the curb.

However, Veronika clearly has the motive to start a killing game, and potentially to spread despair. DRDT has taken inspiration from Trigger Happy Havoc in the past, so it could make sense if DRDT’s mastermind was also inspired by THH’s. Having a so-obvious-it’s-not-obvious mastermind could also be another way to mess with theorists like me, as DRDTdev did with the comments section portion of Literature Girl Insane. “bro Veronika being the mastermind would be WAY too obvious” sounds EXACTLY like “I just hope XXXXXX doesn’t go crazy and kill in chapter 3. That would be way too predictable” or “XXXXX will obviously die in ch5”. If part of the point of DRDT is to make know-it-all analysts rethink the rules they believe to be set in stone, I could see Veronika as a subversive choice.

Veronika definitely seems to be building up to something, but I don’t know if being the mastermind is exactly it. I think that Veronika could make it pretty late into the game, but I still struggle to see her making it all the way to Chapter 6. I would absolutely love to see what DRDTdev does with her writing if that is the case, though.

#4: Mai Akasaki

(Well, now I feel bad that I’ve never made a colored portrait of Mai.)

As you may have noticed back at our first entry, Arei, I started the countdown off at seventeen, not sixteen. (If you didn’t remember that, I don’t blame you– it was a WHILE ago.) That’s because I thought it was only fair to include DRDT’s best kept(?) secret, the lovely Unnamed Student herself, Mai Akasaki, as an option! Because, man, is she mysterious in some suspicious ways.

“But, didn’t MonoTV tell the students that the mastermind was one of them? Mai isn’t one of the students in the killing game (unless prosopagnosia is REALLY going crazy), so she can’t be the mastermind, right?” Well, yes and no. The scene where MonoTV confirms the existence of the mastermind is SUPER weird. Let’s take a look at it.

On one hand, MonoTV is still in the Movie Screening Room, where it was JUST talking to the student body, so it would only stand to reason that it’s a continuation of the scene we just saw. However, the setting also seems to be doing everything in its power to tell us that this is NOT the same scene we just saw. The lights have been turned off, even though they were on in the scene just before this. They return to being on in the first scene of Chapter 1, which the students treat as being directly after the scene during which the lights were on before. The widget denoting the time, chapter, and episode has completely disappeared, placing this at an even more unknown time than “Time Unknown.” The text indicating that the speaker is MonoTV has even disappeared! I mean, I assume that MonoTV is still the one saying it, considering that it’s on screen and the speech bubble is pointing right at it, but we don’t even know that for sure!

Additionally, MonoTV refers to the viewers directly (“dear viewers”) two speech bubbles after this one, which makes it seem more like MonoTV is talking to us the audience rather than the students in the room. But then, if the mastermind is “one of you,” and MonoTV is talking to us, wouldn’t that mean the mastermind is someone in the audience? That could lead in to some really meta interpretations of the text (i.e. “DRDTdev is the mastermind of DRDT because he’s the one who created the killing game”) or it could indicate that I’ve gone fully off the rails.

A midpoint between those two ideas is that the mastermind is part of the in-universe audience watching the killing game, as in, a fictional character who is watching the real-to-them TV show that is Danganronpa: Despair Time. That could include Mai, a very notable character who is not one of the sixteen participants in the killing game.

Side note, I’ve seen some people fight back against the concept that Mai could be the mastermind with the idea that making the mysterious character the mastermind would be too obvious. While I sort of agree, I feel like we’re somewhat overestimating the extent to which Mai is obvious. It’s not like no casual viewers would know who she is, because her image was shown pretty obviously in Chapter 1. However, the name “Mai Akasaki” is only accessible by finding the hidden quotes on the optional associated website’s character profiles. To learn anything about her beyond that, you have to have the thought to type the name into the website URL, and then solve another puzzle just to see the bare bones of what’s there.

I’m not trying to assert any sort of dominance or superiority over DRDT fans on YouTube, Twitter, TikTok, or anything else, but from what I’ve gathered, Tumblr is the place you want to go for deep analysis and theories on DRDT (possibly because of Tumblr’s longer word count). Therefore, anything about DRDT that may seem like common knowledge on Tumblr may only be common knowledge to the fans who specifically bothered to come to the deep lore and crack theories website to find deep lore and crack theories. Essentially, this:

Sort of similar to what Gravity Falls did with the reveal of Bill Cipher back in 2012 (at least I think, I wasn’t actually in the Gravity Falls fandom at that time), I think it would be reasonable to plant clues about an overarching villain that people who want to analyze can analyze ahead of time, such that the villain’s arrival can come as a victory to the puzzle solvers and an exciting new development to the more casual viewers.

However, while I believe that Mai has an awesome setup that she could use to become the mastermind, whether she would actually fit the role is another question entirely. As I alluded to back in the first Mai paragraph, I’m rolling with the widely held (among theorizers) belief that the Unnamed Student in Xander and Min’s bonus episodes is supposed to be Mai. In those episodes, Mai seems to be incredibly caring, peppy, and sweet. She knows a ton of little heartwarming details about Min and Xander, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the same is shown to be true with Arei and whoever else’s bonus episodes in the future. Those hidden quotes on Mai’s profile also give off the impression that everyone in the cast really loves Mai– one could call them a “portrait of a person dearly loved,” perhaps.

While it’s possible that these scenes are supposed to highlight Mai’s social prowess and how much she can get people to fall in love with her, they… don’t really seem to be giving off those vibes. We see her thoughts in those bonus videos, and she really does seem to be dedicated to helping Min and Xander out. Mai’s change from someone who wanted nothing more than to help out her friends to someone who was willing to throw all of them into the killing game is something that would have to be explained, and it could be difficult to communicate that shift within the confines of bonus material, if Mai’s content is mostly kept there. There is the concept that Mai could have put her friends into a killing game to protect them somehow, which could be a way to avoid Mai’s character seemingly doing a total 180, but that rationale would need a lot of explanation too.

Otherwise, there’s also the problem that Mai is almost certainly dead. I won’t get super into it myself, because the amazing @1moreff-creator has already done a great job explaining why here (starts in the XI. God is Dead section). I don’t think I need to elaborate on why Mai being dead potentially before the killing game even began would be detrimental to the idea of her being the mastermind.

To be honest, I don’t know how much this idea actually makes sense. I think I’m personally more inclined to believe that Mai could be the mastermind just because I really don’t get mastermind vibes from pretty much anybody in the cast. If the mastermind simply wasn’t one of the members of the main cast, that could solve that issue, right…? Mai is very likely involved in the inception of the killing game somehow, so extending that role to one of being the mastermind isn’t the biggest stretch. However, her personality and living status do throw in some pretty big question marks, so I don’t think she should go any higher.

#3: Teruko Tawaki

Teruko was definitely the first character who I believed could be the mastermind after I watched the series for the first time. However, over time, I’ve sort of fallen off of the idea that she would be. Is that because I’m forgetting key details of the plot, or because I’m drifting closer to the truth…? Honestly, I have no idea.

Let’s start with the strongest “evidence” we have against Teruko, her motive secret: “How could I even select which secret to make your motive? Just about everything you’ve done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault.” Although “the killing game [being] all [Teruko’s] fault” sounds pretty damning, there’s the obvious counterargument to be made that this isn’t even Teruko’s motive. In fact, the board currently shows it assigned to Xander. However, the majority of people (including myself) seem to believe that David was lying, and this secret is Teruko’s. So, let’s analyze under that assumption.

Teruko did admit to Veronika that she doesn’t know what secret could be used as her motive because there were so many. Even if that motive secret isn’t hers, that still means that Teruko has done a lot of shady stuff. Teruko’s decision to live on set forever could line up with the mastermind's goal of wanting to keep the cameras rolling as well. The very first scene of DRDT shows that someone who wants the killing game to end also wants Teruko dead, which implies that Teruko and the killing games are on the same side.

Teruko also has a prior history of concealing things about herself from us, the viewing audience. We knew basically nothing about her past or trust issues before Xander stabbed her, causing her sudden change in attitude to come as a blindside. Teruko apparently has a “risky” killing game-ending plan in mind for the end of the second Class Trial that she’s told us absolutely nothing about. And, most notably, Teruko clearly knows things about Mai that she’s decided not to share with viewers at home. (I do believe that Teruko genuinely can’t remember Mai’s name, but she does remember that Mai is similar to Xander and wanted to help, which is more than anything we would have known from the main text on our own).

Point is, DRDT is written in a way where we don’t hear a ton of Teruko’s thoughts. That would make it much easier for her to scheme something behind the scenes, as opposed to someone who we get a lot of emotional reactions or logical theorizing from. It’s actually kind of similar to the difference between Kaede and Shuichi’s styles of narration, as pointed out by ShortOneGaming in their impeccable v3 playthrough! I recommend watching their entire letsplay if you're in the mood for v3, but I found one time where they talked about this concept here. I’ll transcribe it for anyone who doesn’t want to open YouTube right now:

Gina: I do want to call– as my final sort of note– what’s interesting is that you called out immediately that Kaede’s narration was weird. That, it was always, like– dictation? Allison: Yes! Gina: It’s always, like, speaking directly to a person– Allison: Yes! Yes, I did say– It never really felt like actual internal monologue. Like, she never was expressing her thoughts or anything to us. I mean, yes, she was, but then there were those weird moments where she was, like… y’know, hiding it from the player, and… probably from herself, too, to some extent. Like, she was just like, “and then I had to go do this thing.” Um, and like, “we won’t really address how I’m feeling about this.” Gina: Yep. Allison: And at the same time, it hides it from the– the player. And that was very clever. Really good. I mean, her– yeah, her narration was always kind of weird. But, she did have moments where she had internal reflection.

Hopefully, you can see the comparison. By putting a greater emphasis on actions as opposed to what Teruko is feeling (“I kneeled down and touched his neck” after finding Ace’s presumed-dead body; “Everyone else started filtering in” when people walk into the Playground and find Arei’s corpse), it becomes much easier to have Teruko hide exactly what she knows or exactly how she feels about certain events. It’s actually the opposite of the kind of narration that Damon had (“I’m trapped in a killing game… with people who despise me. How… how did this happen? I just wanted to help… I wanted to make sure we didn’t trust each other too easily… and now I’m being treated like the bad guy” after the 0th Class Trial) that made me believe he wasn’t the mastermind!

So, do I think that Teruko would be a mastermind who remembers, or a mastermind who forgot? Well, I could kind of see it either way. Personally, I think that Teruko being a mastermind whose memories are intact is the more interesting version, and I do believe it’s possible. I also don’t understand why someone with as many trust issues as Teruko has would want to remove her own memories if it weren’t necessary. Then again, Teruko being an amnesiac mastermind could make up for some of the… issues that arise with her as a mastermind candidate.

What? She’s in third place, not first. Despite how long I’ve already talked about Teruko, there’s still more to say!

First, the problems if Teruko did retain her memories: why would she ask MonoTV about the mastermind’s identity when the two were alone? Why would she be creating a plan to end the killing game? Why would she pretend to not know who Mariabella Rosales was even though everyone else clearly knew?

And then, the problems that persist even if Teruko did lose her memories: where would Teruko have gotten the resources to plan a killing game of this caliber? Even if she had them, why would she use it on this? Assuming that secret is hers, why would she write that about herself in a plausibly public place (beyond the swapping, Arei looked over Whit’s shoulder)?

Oh yeah, back to that secret. Just because “the killing game is all [Teruko’s] fault” doesn’t mean that she’s the one who planned it. In fact, the wording sounds very accusatory and hostile for something that Teruko would have theoretically written to herself. From the first scene, we already know that there is a person or group of people somewhere who are out to get Teruko. It could make more sense if that entity is the mastermind, and wrote the secret to blame Teruko for whatever she did that got her on their bad side.

There’s probably more to be said, but hopefully you can see why I have so many mixed feelings about Teruko. I definitely think she’s one of the more likely mastermind candidates out there, but I still don’t know exactly how likely that is, y’know?

#2: Rose Lacroix

Once upon a time, a wise and powerful theory alchemist known only by the epithet @1moreff-creator postulated that Rose could be the mastermind of Despair Time, and then never elaborated on the idea at all. For centuries (a couple of weeks) the townsfolk (me) were baffled by these dark and mysterious ramblings. However, as seasons passed by, as travelers came and went, as the tide advanced to kiss the land before slinking back to its home once more– the idea… started making more and more sense?

Rose is a really smart character who has already shown her proficiency in Class Trials. In the first, she utilized her ability to perfectly capture the scene and her knowledge of chromatography. Although her talents haven’t been as useful so far in the second, she’s still managed to keep up with the conversation despite never looking at the scene of the crime. Thus, I can see why, from a writing perspective, DRDTdev would choose to make his mastermind the Ultimate Art Forger.

There’s also the angle that Rose is a criminal, and therefore could be willing to do illegal or immoral things. However, she does seem to be pretty remorseful about it, and she’s already been caught for her criminal behavior before. Unfortunately for her, her relationship with her saviors the Spurlings only makes her all the more suspicious. Even if Rose didn’t want to be the mastermind of a killing game, if the Spurlings forced her to do it, she might have not had a choice. (Xander is very against the Spurlings… Xander is bloody hands guy → stop the killing game → stop the Spurlings?)

I also like the angle of “the Spurlings forced her to do it” because of what I talked about back in Mai’s section– the concept of the mastermind not being among the students. In Rose’s case, you can get the best of both worlds. The entity behind the killing game, the Spurling Foundation, would be a group outside of the killing game for MonoTV to contact, but there would still be a student among the cast’s ranks to suspect and accuse come Chapter 6.

What’s the argument against Rose? Well, I would ask why Rose would want to put herself in this kind of situation, but if it was the Spurlings’ choice, then that explains that. You could say Rose has been too helpful to be a bad guy, but everything she’s done so far has been to help the students win a Class Trial. That keeps the killing game running, which keeps the show on. The biggest problem I’m thinking of at the moment is the notion that the Spurling Foundation would have chosen to make Rose’s secret about how her backstory led her into their clutches. However, the secret doesn’t actually acknowledge the Spurlings by name, and it also frames Rose’s crimes in a way that makes her look like a good person– the opposite of what someone would think of as a mastermind. The secret was also only intended for Rose’s eyes, so it could have functioned as more of a low-key threat to remind her why she needs to stay in line.

Shouldn’t all of this talk of Rose lacking agency make her a bad mastermind candidate, though? If a villain doesn’t even believe in their villainous motivations, the story could end on a really flat note, with the good guys steamrolling an evildoer who doesn’t really care. How are we supposed to reach a satisfying conclusion if the mastermind hardly has anything to be held accountable for?

Those are normally things I would argue, but as many have pointed out, Teruko isn’t a normal protagonist. Actually, I think that this kind of mastermind setup for Rose could be a great way to end Teruko’s arc about learning to trust other people. Rose is the mastermind, somebody who shouldn’t be trusted…! It would be so easy for Teruko to just crush this person who betrayed her into dust– Rose isn’t even putting up much of a fight. But in the end, Teruko will choose to be patient, and see that Rose never wanted to betray Teruko. Even if her actions wound up hurting Teruko and many others, she still deserves a second chance, or at least a second evaluation.

As you saw in the death predictions, I obviously believe that Rose has the potential to make a late game run, whether as a survivor or something else. Writing all of this out, I can see even more clearly why Rose just might be the DRDT mastermind. However, despite all that I wrote, the idea still feels kinda more like a fun AU than the actual truth to me…? So, I still think there’s one person whose chances I like slightly better.

#1: J Rosales

Whaddya know, J’s personal ??? tier catapulted her into the lead. It is probably true that my uncertainty about where she might land is contributing to me deeming her the mastermind– it’s a really weird space in the kill order, as someone who survives long enough to theoretically have a positive character arc while sometimes not being counted among the survivors at the end.

Part of why I put J this high is that I really like the theory of J being the mastermind along with her brother, Ryan. Sadly, I cannot find any of the original theories that postulated this idea to link to, so I’ll try my best to explain what I remember myself. Basically, some people found the scene in c1e4 where Rose doesn’t remember who J is suspicious. They combined this scene with J’s younger brother, Ryan, and J’s talent, the Ultimate Effects Artist, to suggest that J could be using her FX talents to disguise Ryan as herself and have them occasionally trade places. From this Q&A, one of the few things we know about Ryan is that he enjoys crossdressing, which furthers the idea that he could enjoy pretending to be J. Ryan is also (to my memory) the only DRDT character’s sibling whose name we have seen in the main text, which could indicate that he’s more important than Arei’s sisters, Levi’s brothers, or other potential siblings.

I think it’s a really fun idea that I would at the very least want to see come to fruition, regardless of how likely it is. If J was working with Ryan, you can once again repeat the argument that there’s both a mastermind for MonoTV to talk to outside the game and one to be accused within the game. The biggest issue with it is that I don’t know how Arturo wouldn’t see the differences between the two, even if Rose may have. Maybe if J and Ryan haven’t swapped since the Rosales secret got out, and won’t swap again until Arturo dies…? I don’t know, I’m getting ahead of myself.

The thing is, other than just being a unique and interesting concept, I’m not really sure what the point of having J and Ryan swap would be, in universe or out of it. (This is why I wish I could’ve found a link to the original theorist... :,( ) My best argument for in universe would be that there are some things that only J has the skill to do, her being the Ultimate Effects Artist while Ryan is not. However, they couldn’t just have Ryan be the one in the killing game full-time, because he’s too young and therefore wouldn’t have been part of the original Hope’s Peak class. Thus, there are some points in time where J needs to be working behind the scenes (like on the executions or something), and during those intervals, Ryan subs in. Metatextually, I guess it could show how every person in the entertainment industry can be cutthroat, or that every child of a celebrity is bound to get messed up about it somehow…?

Regardless, even if Ryan isn’t involved at all, there are plenty of reasons to suspect J on her own. Ultimate Effects Artist is a highly suspicious talent when it comes to the deception of a killing game (just check out how many people think J already used it to kill Arei), and in connecting her to Hollywood. J may claim to specialize in theater as opposed to television, but 1) she could have been lying, or 2) that could be true, but she’s making an exception this time. Even if she normally works in live theater, if you were a TV executive approached by the daughter of Mariabella Rosales who is also a Hope’s Peak Ultimate student in her own right, would you really turn her away…?

J’s custom weapon is also pretty suspicious. Even if it doesn’t seem to be able to trigger traps like the one used on Levi (though that could be another lie), I could still see it being pretty helpful for subtly operating MonoTV, turning on a monitor, starting an execution, or stuff like that. Charles essentially confirms that the custom weapons were in the students’ rooms since they all woke up, which means that J could have had this remote on her the entire time.

J’s relationships also seem potentially mastermind-y. Thus far, the two characters with which she’s been associated most are Arei and Arturo. Those two (at least, prior to Arei’s change of heart) have been so clearly villainous and hateful that J would obviously look like a nice person in comparison. Why is this helpful? It means that J can get away with doing more objectionable things without raising any huge red flags. If J is the mastermind, we can look back on her demolition of Arturo in the Chapter 2 Trial as a brief early glimpse into how cruel she can really be. But, for the moment, although it’s definitely memorable, many people (including myself) can react to it with a, “yeah, but based on what Arturo was doing to her, it’s kinda justified…” (Not saying it isn’t somewhat justified either way, just that it could also be something more.)

J could also have a range of motivations related to her hatred for her mom. Maybe she’s trying to turn people against the Rosales name to ruin Mariabella’s reputation. Maybe this killing game is a plan to finally have a big artistic success all on her own (or with Ryan) to prove her mom wrong. Maybe she thinks that a world so enamored with fame and glamor deserves to rot in a pit of despair. I don’t know which of these options would be the most likely, but I could see how any of them could be possible explanations for how J got to this point.

I think my biggest argument against J once again comes back to the “why”. I think that J has a lot of potential to be a good mastermind, but I don’t know if that carries over to being a good mastermind for Teruko. Unlike with Rose, I don’t have a good sense of how J being the mastermind would tie into a satisfying ending to Teruko’s trust arc.

@venus-is-thinking and I sometimes like to run randomized killing games as a fun writing exercise (randomize the cast, motives, and mastermind; see where it takes you), and we’ve generally found that the most compelling protagonist-mastermind duos either have the protagonist sharing the same worldview with the mastermind, or being the only person who believes the opposite.

If the protagonist starts with the same beliefs as the mastermind, then defeating the mastermind is a showcase of the protagonist’s development. Hajime and Izuru work as protagonist and mastermind because Izuru is the manifestation of Hajime’s belief that only talented people are important and can make an impact on the world. By renouncing Izuru, Hajime proves that he’s learned that anyone has the chance to change their future if they put in the effort.

If the protagonist has the opposite opinions from the mastermind, then it proves how crucial the protagonist is to the narrative because they are the only one who could deliver the critical message. A great example of this is Shuichi and Tsumugi. When Tsumugi tries to set up the conflict of “hope good, despair bad” that will keep the killing games going, all of the other surviving students fall for it. Shuichi being the only character who has spent the entire game learning the importance of balancing two extremes makes his callout of Tsumugi incredibly satisfying, and justifies the protagonist swap by proving that Shuichi is the only hero who could have saved this day.

That’s why I think that J would be a great mastermind for a protagonist who has issues with family or stardom, but might not be the best choice for a story with Teruko at the helm. Those are only my observations, though, so I’d understand if DRDTdev planned things differently.

And that is finally the end! Here’s the final tierlist I wound up working off of, which I fiddled with a TON while writing:

(It’s based off of Ocean Unknown’s tierlist!)

Since this has already gone on so long, I’ll try to keep the conclusion brief. Please take all of this with a grain of salt, as I wound up making a lot of claims about writing that don’t necessarily have the strongest foundation. I didn’t write anything that I think is blatantly false, obviously, but whether it’s good advice or not doesn’t necessarily mean that DRDTdev considered it. We may have different priorities in telling a compelling story. And, we’re less than two chapters in! Even the end of the Chapter 2 trial could throw a positive or negative wrench in any of these profiles.

Thank you so much for reading through this whole thing, and if you got through it and still have anything you want me to elaborate on further (a specific character, a specific theory, a specific aspect of fangan writing, etc), I would be happy to do so. I, uh, really hope that this answered the question that Anon asked, haha. Until next time… stay wary. There could be masterminds lurking about...!

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its-the-pilot · 7 months

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Waves | 5 | Rooster x Reader

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

Thanks everyone for all the support so far, hope you're liking it!

Summary: You and Bradley meet up after work. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 2.8k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Message or comment to join the taglist!

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Chapter Five

As the sun set over Coronado, you strolled along the beach with Bradley, heading toward the cantina. The weather was perfect, with the day’s heat giving way to a gentle breeze that played with the loose strands of hair from your bun. There was a comfortable silence between you, no need for words, no reason to rush. You were simply enjoying each other’s company and the breathtaking sunset.

When you arrived at the cantina, you were welcomed by its cozy atmosphere. “This is really nice,” Bradley smiled, pulling out your chair as you settled in, gazing out at the ocean.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” you quipped, appreciating the gesture as he took his seat across from you. The server arrived a moment later to take your drink orders, allowing you both time to peruse the menus. “I’ll have a margarita and a shot of tequila.” Bradley flipped to the beer section of the menu and looked it over. “A Modelo for me, thanks. And some chips for the table?”

The server nodded and left you alone at the table. The deck was full of patrons, the ambient music and conversations at the perfect volume for you to talk.

“How was your day? Not too stressful, I hope.” Bradley inquired, tucking his Ray-Bans into his tank top’s collar again now that you were seated. His eyes remained fixed on you, even though the Pacific Ocean’s sunset was just to his left. “Getting aviators to talk about their feelings isn’t always a walk in the park.”

You shook your head and chuckled. “No, it’s never easy, but getting them to talk about themselves is a piece of cake. The day wasn’t bad though, just long. Actually, it went a lot faster after you texted me.”

“Really? I’m glad,” he replied, thanking the server when he brought your chips and drinks to the table. He popped the cap off his beer and took a long pull of it, watching you intently as you downed your tequila shot followed by a sip of your margarita. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, soaking in every detail of your appearance, comparing it to the memory he’d held in his mind for the last fourteen years. “You’re gorgeous, you know?”

“Oh, stop,” you snorted, rolling your eyes. While guys had complimented your looks before, you’d never seen it in yourself. Compared to the women chasing tags around the Hard Deck you felt ordinary, but it didn’t really matter. Your career was your priority, and you’d long given up on relationships. “I’m sure you’ve got more attractive women swarming around you back home.”

Bradley shrugged, taking another drink as he contemplated your words. “Sure… but not ones that mean anything.”

You took a long moment to process his answer, looking down at the menu. Thankfully before you felt pressured to say anything the server returned, taking your orders for food. “I’ll have the skirt steak fajitas and another margarita, please.”

“I’ll try the chile relleno,” Bradley ordered, handing both your menus over. He decided in that moment that he would remain sober so he could get you home safely, distinctly remembering your low tolerance for alcohol. But you were an adult, and not his to lecture. If you wanted to drink, he would let you. “And a couple waters, if you don’t mind.”

Nodding, the server disappeared into the crowd again, giving you the opportunity to change the subject. You ran your finger over your upper lip and then pointed to his mustache, smirking. “When did this happen?”

He touched the hair on his lip and chuckled. “Five, six years ago, maybe,” he replied. “Tried it out and it stuck. Why? Is it bad?”

You shook your head with a soft smile. “No. No, I like it. It suits you.” Finishing your margarita, you set it to the side for when the server returned before continuing. “Reminds me of those pictures of your dad that Uncle Pete had around the house.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, only for it to fade as soon as you mentioned your uncle. Maverick was still a touchy subject that made his blood boil, even after so many years. He looked out to the water as he worked to control his temper, the pinks and oranges in the sky fading into purples and blues as the sun dipped below the horizon.

He noticed you fidgeting with your napkin anxiously in his peripheral and cursed himself for causing your discomfort. Swallowing his pride, he turned his attention back to you and reached across the table to gently still your hand with his own.

“I’m sorry,” you replied quietly, meeting his hazel eyes. “I didn’t--”

He stopped you with a shake of his head, his calloused thumb brushing the soft skin on the back of your hand. “Don’t worry about it. I… I shouldn’t get so upset. Especially not at you. He’s your uncle, it makes sense for you to talk about him.”

You turned your hand over beneath his, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you shrugged. “We don’t talk much anymore,” you admitted, reluctantly releasing his hand when the server arrived to set your plates on the table alongside your margarita and the waters Bradley had ordered. Once you were alone again, you continued. “He’s somewhere in the Mojave, Ice manages to get us together at Christmas but that’s pretty much it.”

“He's trying to be the peacemaker, I guess,” he commented, taking a bite of his food. “He calls every so often, letting me know how you and Maverick are doing. Conveniently left out that you were here though.”

“Yeah…” you shook your head, taking a long drink from your margarita. “He also failed to mention that you were coming. Now I wonder if he did that on purpose.”

Bradley laughed, finishing his beer. “So he’s pulling a Parent Trap on us.”

“Sounds like it, doesn’t it?” You chuckled, shaking your head at the thought. “I guess it shouldn’t surprise me, he’s always trying to fix things.”

A comfortable silence fell over the table as you both turned your attention back to your meals, enjoying the atmosphere of the restaurant. You couldn’t help but steal glances at the man across from you, a stark contrast from the boy you had known all those years ago, yet still the same in so many ways. It was in these moments, while he was focused on his food, you noticed the scars on the left side of his face and neck, curious as to their origin.

Bradley felt your eyes on him and looked up, offering a questioning look when your expression changed. “Do I have food on my face?”

“Actually, you do a little,” you said, reaching out with your napkin to dab a bit of sauce from his chin. “But I… I just noticed your scars.” The last part came out quietly, and part of you hoped he hadn’t heard it, unsure of whether or not he was self-conscious about them.

His hazel eyes didn’t leave yours as you cleaned the sauce from his face and asked about his scars. He knew it was only a matter of time before you asked about them, and he wasn’t going to lie about their origin. “I, uh… I spiraled a bit when I was at UVA. Drank a lot… did a lot of stupid shit that I regret now, but I didn’t know how to cope.”

Bradley paused for a moment, gauging your reaction before he continued. You had moved your hands back to your lap, listening intently as he told his story. “When I was a sophomore, my friend was driving me home after I got blackout drunk at a party and he crashed the car. I don’t even remember what happened that night, but the doctors said I was lucky that I wasn’t hurt worse.”

“Bradley…” you whispered, your voice trembling as you covered your mouth with your hand. Tears welled in your eyes, his experience bringing back memories of losing your parents in a car crash when you were a kid. “This… it wasn’t in your file.”

Seeing the tears in your eyes, Bradley moved his chair closer and reached out to hold your hand, understanding that his story had touched a nerve. He knew that you were thinking about your parents, and he wanted to offer comfort in any way he could. “I was in school, so I didn’t report it. The scars pretty much healed on their own and no one asked any questions.”

Taking a shaky breath, you raised your hand to gently trace the scars on his cheek and neck, barely brushing your fingertips over them. “I’m okay,” he reassured you, his voice rough with the feel of your fingertips on his skin. “They don’t hurt.”

You bit your lip, continuing to trace the scars for a moment before letting your hand fall back to your lap. The combination of the emotional conversation, the margaritas, and your close proximity to Bradley left you feeling lightheaded. “I… can we…”

Before you could finish your thought, Bradley signaled the server for the check. “Here, drink this,” he said, pressing your glass of water into your free hand, recognizing that you needed to sober up a bit.

When the check arrived, he quickly settled it by tossing a few bills on the table. Then, he stood and offered you his hand to help you to your feet. “Ready to go?”

Nodding in agreement, you took his hand and stood. His touch sent a shiver down your spine as he placed a gentle hand on the small of your back, leading you down to the beach to start the walk back toward the Hard Deck. The sun had fully set, successfully hiding your flushed pink cheeks as you moved away from the light of the cantina.

It couldn’t hide when you stumbled into a hole in the sand, however, sending you into Bradley’s side. His sharp reflexes aided him in steadying you, his strong arm wrapping around your waist. “Woah there, you okay?”

“Oh, God… I’m such a klutz,” you grumbled, looking up to him with a shake of your head. “I’m fine, just beginning to think that the last margarita might have been more than I needed.”

He stood with his arm around you until you pulled away, patting his chest in thanks before starting to walk again. “Careful,” he warned, staying close to your side.

You chuckled, looping your arm through his to ease his worry. “Are you this sweet to all the girls back home?”

“Hey, I’m a nice guy,” he replied, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Wait… are you asking if I’m single?”

You scoffed, turning your attention to the waves for a long moment in an attempt to prove you didn’t really care one way or the other. It failed miserably when you looked back up at him, deciding you needed the answer after all. “Are you?”

“I… uh…” he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand as he thought about his response. His relationship history wasn’t something he was proud of, and it certainly wasn’t something he bragged about. “Well, I’ve had, you know… partners, I guess. I mean, no… nothing right now.”

The walk continued in silence as you processed his reply, the alcohol in your system making it difficult to focus while simultaneously emboldening you. “So… have you ever been in love?”

There wasn’t any hesitation this time before he answered honestly. “Yeah, with you.”

Your head turned to look up at him again, surprise written across your features. “That was fourteen years ago, B.”

“What can I say?” he chuckled, looking down at you. “You set a high bar.”

“Are you seriously suggesting I’m the reason you’re alone?” you asked, stopping in your tracks and pulling away..

Bradley stopped when you did and turned to face you. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” he teased. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the all too familiar way your cheeks reddened when you were frustrated, which really only made you more upset.

“What? Why are you laughing?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him. It was mind boggling to you, especially in your inebriated state, that he could blame you for his relationship problems after he was the one who left.

He was still chuckling as he replied. “I don’t know, I guess I just… I miss this. Our banter. You care so much, Dimples. You can’t help yourself.”

You huffed in frustration and began walking again, brushing past him. “I should go.”

“Wait, what?” he asked, following after you, his height giving him an advantage in being able to catch up.

You continued walking, paying no mind to whether or not he caught up, your focus solely on getting home. “This is dangerous,” you admitted, your body tingling from the alcohol earlier. “We’ve had drinks, and somehow you’ve managed to get better looking with age, which is so annoying. You couldn’t have gone bald or gained weight or something?”

“Stop, stop.” Bradley reached for your arm, gently putting an end to your rant. Once you turned toward him, he pointed off to the side, revealing that you had arrived at the Hard Deck. “C’mon, let me take you home.”

“I can walk, it’s not far,” you insisted, feeling a little embarrassed by your outburst.

He lifted your chin with his thumb and forefinger, locking eyes with you. “You’re drunk, I’m not letting you walk home this late by yourself,” he said firmly, sending a warm shiver down your spine with his voice.

Nodding was all you could manage at that point, letting him lead you to the parking lot where his Bronco was waiting. He opened the passenger door and helped you inside before taking his place behind the wheel. The familiar scent of the truck and the soothing rumble of the engine brought a smile to your face.

“Lots of memories in here,” you mused, running your hands over the leather seats as Bradley followed the GPS on your phone to your house. Reaching up to pull down the visor, you flinched when a photo fell out, hitting you in the face just as the truck came to a stop outside your bungalow.

Flipping the picture over, you bit your lip and brushed your thumb over it. It was a photo of you and Bradley at his senior prom, you in a dark red floor length gown and him in a tuxedo with a matching bow tie. “I can’t believe you still have this,” you mumbled, looking over at him when he opened the passenger door.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, taking your hand and helping you down from the truck. He accepted the photo when you handed it back to him, tucking it safely back into the visor. “It’s one of the only pictures I have of us together.”

You remained silent as he walked you up to the door, taking your keys when you fumbled them and unlocking the door for you. Handing you back the keys, he leaned against the column, his hands in his pockets. “I had a great time tonight.”

“Me too,” you smiled, tucking the keys back into your bag and stepping toward him. Your eyes slowly traced his face before leaning in and giving him a tender kiss, your hand resting against his strong jaw.

He didn’t move, allowing you to control the pace of the kiss. When you pulled back and put your fingers to your lips, he removed a hand from his pocket and reached up to stroke your cheek. “You sure this is what you want?”

You nodded, leaning in to give him another kiss, your fingers gripping the collar of his Hawaiian shirt. His hand slid up to cup your neck this time, thumb brushing the sensitive spot behind your ear.

When you finally broke away, he searched your eyes with his hazel ones. “You okay?” he asked, shaking his head when you only nodded once again. “Need to hear it, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I just… need to take it slow,” you admitted, your fingers playing absently with the collar of his shirt.

“It’s okay,” he promised, brushing his nose against yours before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight, Dimples.”

Leaning into his soft lips on your forehead, you smiled. “Goodnight, Bradley. Thank you.”

He reluctantly pulled away and carefully stepped off the porch backward on his way back to his truck, never taking his eyes off of you. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I’d like that,” you replied, watching him climb into the truck and start it up. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you waved as he backed out of the driveway and headed down the street. As his taillights disappeared, you turned and went inside, knowing that this marked the beginning of a new chapter.

Chapter Six

#bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #rooster top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 3 months

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 3

AO3

Summary: In the wake of a terrible loss, the arrival of a new airman at Thorpe Abbotts promises to change the trajectory of Frankie's life forever

Warnings: Death, grief

Word Count: 3.9k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles

A/N: HE'S HEREEEE 🗣🗣🗣

It was dark in the mechanics' hut, the lights kept off during the day to preserve power, but the overcast nature of the afternoon did nothing to light the space from the outside. Hours had passed since the pilots had left, and although Frankie was never made privy to the specifics of their missions, she could tell by the amount of fuel that had been requested that they were going far, much further than they ever had before. There was not a man among them who hadn't seemed to have a dark cloud over his head as they had prepared to depart that morning.

She and Lemmons sat on the floor together, backs propped up against the wall, both too troubled by worry to work. Frankie had an old fashion magazine in her lap, and they passed the time by flicking through each section and poking fun at a myriad of ugly sweaters and ridiculous hats.

"Those are nice," Ken stated, pointing at a pair of green brogued shoes.

"Seriously? I think they're garish."

He shrugged. "My Fonda has some like it. They look nice on her."

She let out a low whistle, teasingly nudging his side as his face turned bright red, a satisfied smile curling his lips. For a boy as young as he was, he sure loved Fonda. Frankie had noticed the heart-shaped locket that hung from his neck the very first day they'd worked together, but it had taken weeks for him to let her have a look inside. It must have been nice to be loved the way she was.

The magazine was losing its charm. It had been over an hour, and they were running out of pages. With a huff, she tossed it across the room, landing in a heap of crumpled pages underneath the table. Ken looked over at her, raising a brow.

She shrugged. "Bored. Want a cigarette?"

Without waiting for an answer, Frankie dug around in her pocket and produced two loose, slightly bent cigarettes, passing one to Lemmons. She lit hers swiftly, taking in an inhale of smoke. He rolled his between his fingers, never bothering to light it. Sometimes she forgot he didn't smoke.

"I'm gonna take you for a drink tonight. We deserve it."

"I'm nineteen."

Frankie stared at him for a long moment. "...So?"

"So, I can't drink."

"Jesus Christ. Welcome to England mate, you might be the only nineteen-year-old currently in the country who doesn't already have a drinking problem."

He opened his mouth to respond, but before the words could emerge they were interrupted by a rapid knocking at the door. Far from the usual pounding thuds the men usually used, this knock was delicate, polite, but its urgency set Frankie's heart to beating twice as fast.

Scrambling to her feet, she rushed for the door, tossing her cigarette into the ashtray on the table as she passed. Hauling it open, a wave of nausea coursed through her as she saw George standing outside, hair damp from the drizzle, tie pulled loose away from her neck, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Wh-" Frankie trailed off as she slammed into her, gripping her in the tightest hug she'd ever felt. As she wrapped her arms around George's back, she could feel her shaking beneath her palms.

George let out one sob after another, face buried in Frankie's shoulder as her tears soaked the fabric of her coveralls. Looking back over at Lemmons, their gazes met in wide-eyed expressions of anxiety, and if George hadn't been crying so loudly Frankie was sure the thumping of her heart would've been audible.

"George- George," She spoke firmly, hands pressed to George's cheeks as she forced her to meet her eye. To be so harsh to a woman who needed nothing but softness ripped a hole through her, the guilt churning her stomach, but she needed to know. "Tell me what happened."

She nodded hurriedly, wiping her tears away with the backs of her hands. "They made it to Africa - we started getting messages through about an hour ago, but, uh..." George's lip trembled, and she sucked in a long, haggard breath. "Curt's dead, Frankie."

Lemmons let out some sort of strangled gasp as Frankie felt all of the blood drain from her face. For a moment she didn't know how to process the words, she just knew she needed to hold George - to hold her tight, tighter than anyone ever had. There was not an inch between them as she stroked a gentle hand through her golden hair, trying with all her might to keep breathing as she felt a warm tear roll down her cheek.

Over George's shoulder, she spied Ken making for the door, a frown casting a shadow over his boyish face. He met her eyes, and she offered him a nod, freeing him from the scene so he could inevitably tell the others.

The two women held each other for a long moment, Frankie's chin burrowed against George's collar. When she finally spoke, it was little more than a hoarse whisper, her throat suddenly dry as a bone.

"...And Bucky?"

Sniffing loudly, George pulled back, shaking her head. "No, no, he's okay. He made it to Algeria." Frankie hadn't released she was holding her breath until she let it escape her, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she nodded.

"Yeah? Yeah. Alright," She could worry about the others later - for now, knowing Egan was alive was enough to settle her drumming heart. "You need to go home, ok? You need to rest."

"My shift's not over, I still have to-"

"I am gonna walk up there myself and tell them you're not coming back today. Not tomorrow, neither. And if they've got a problem with that they can take it up with me - believe me, I don't give a shit if I take an insubordination charge over this."

A tearful smile broke out across George's face, holding onto Frankie's hand as it cupped her cheek. "Tangling with you? I don't fancy their chances."

Frankie chuckled, pulling her into one last hug and pressing her lips firmly to her temple. "Go, go. I'll see you soon, ok?"

"Yeah," She whispered against her neck, reaching out to squeeze her hand as she broke the hug, stepping backwards towards the door and disappearing.

As soon as she was alone, Frankie sucked in a long, laboured breath, collapsing into one of the rickety chairs that surrounded the table in the middle of the room. Doubling forward, she lay her head in her hands, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes as she focused on taking one breath after the next.

Since the war had begun, she had been cycling through phases of fear and calm, letting herself slip into the all too comfortable belief that it couldn't touch her here - couldn't take from her as long as she was home, as long as she was safe.

But God, how the world kept proving her wrong.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Almost a month had passed. Every mission took a toll, but the trip that had killed Curtis Biddick seemed to hang heavier than any other ever had.

Or perhaps it just seemed that way because of George.

Some nights Frankie would stay up late, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes as she fought to stay awake long enough to finish a chapter of her book, lit by the dim bulb of her bedside lamp. And then in the darkness she would hear a rustling, a casting aside of the course, army-issue bedsheets, and feel a weight press into the mattress beside her as George slipped under the covers, silently resting her head against Frankie's shoulder. She liked to listen to her heartbeat on the nights she felt most alone - when she felt the farthest from home, the most separated from the boy she almost loved - it brought her comfort to listen to that telltale sign of life radiating from the person closest to her. She had someone, and that was enough to live with.

Frankie had liked Curt, but she hadn't known him well. Sometimes she wished she had, if only so that she wouldn't feel so guilty, comforting her best friend over a loss she no longer felt so keenly. Instead, all she could do was softly whisper the words she was reading to her, and let her mere presence be the comfort as they both drifted off to sleep.

It had grown warm overnight, and the humidity combined with the heat of George's body burrowed close next to hers left Frankie slick with sweat by the time she woke up, her hair sticking to her neck in damp strands. Peeling the covers away as she clambered out of bed, careful not to disturb her sleeping friend, she made a beeline for the showers, hoping to wash away the unpleasant, sticky sensation that coated her skin. She was used to evening showers after a long day's work, and it felt strange to stare down at the hot water rolling off of her body and see it come away clear, clean, not streaked with the dirt and oil she was often coated with by the time she made it home each night.

Wringing her hair out with a towel as she made her way out of the bathroom, Frankie dodged the other women emerging from their beds as she reached her own area, her coveralls and workboots waiting for her on a nearby chair. George had moved back to her own bed, carefully removing each of the curlers she meticulously applied every night, just like all of the other servicewomen who were afforded the luxury of working indoors, a far cry from Frankie's reality. It wasn't that Frankie didn't like to dress up - she loved the chance to do her hair and makeup, to dress up and feel pretty for once - it just wasn't a practicality her profession afforded. Her hair needed to be out of the way, and it made no sense to waste money on makeup that would be ruined by sweat and grime within the hour.

"If Dye makes it back, there'll be a party tonight," George stated, watching her reflection as she looped her tie into a knot. "You gonna go?"

"Uh," Frankie considered this for a moment, sniffing her coveralls from the previous day and grimacing at the smell, switching them out for a clean pair. "Nah, not tonight, I don't think. I've already got some outstanding stuff from the last few days that needs sorting, it's gonna be a busy one."

"Alright, I'll see if Sandra and Helen are going."

"I'm glad you're going," Frankie smiled.

George's gaze turned to her, and she considered this for a moment before shrugging. "Can't sit here forever."

It was a fact that didn't need dwelling on, and Frankie wouldn't patronise her with praise. This was just the way their lives worked now. One by one, the women in their hut finished getting ready and left for their various jobs until Frankie was the only one left, locking up the front door as she exited. The burn that had scorched her palm had long since healed, leaving a mottled pink scar across her hand, but she could clutch the handlebars of her bike without pain now, so she had returned to her morning ritual of cycling as fast as she physically could to the airstrip, revelling in the feeling of the warm morning air blowing through her hair.

Dye's plane was swooping in as she arrived, and Frankie couldn't help but smile at the chorus of whoops and cheers that pierced the air, flight and ground crews alike lining the runway to await his valiant return. Twenty-five missions. She could barely fathom it. For as long as she could remember, planes like this had been her life, but she'd never flown in one - Dye had done it twenty-five times. The number boggled her, a reality so close to and yet so distinctly separate from her own.

"Frankie!" Lemmons called over from where he was sitting with a few of the local boys. The village kids had taken a shine to the young mechanic, and she found she rather enjoyed their presence, childish wit relieving the strain of their long working hours. She crossed the grass towards them as he spoke up again. "Gonna replace the panelling on the bombers from last week, you in?"

She shook her head, batting a hand dismissively. "Nah, you go enjoy the celebrations with the others, I'll handle it."

He frowned, a crease appearing between his brows. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, I hardly even know Dye, I'm not missing out. Take the night off, you deserve it."

A smile began to spread across his expression. "Well thanks, Frankie."

"No worries. Hey - did we get that delivery of rivets that was meant to come in?" Lemmons shook his head, and she shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I'll take a list to the boss of everything we need."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was growing dark, a work light on the tarmac illuminating one of the B-17 engines as she worked away at it, a pile of scattered tools littering the ground from where she had tried and failed to toss them back into her toolbox without paying proper attention. She could hear the muffled music far off in the distance, the lights from the party casting a golden reflection against the clouds like a beacon in the night. Tightening one of the bolts, Frankie prayed to herself that George was having fun.

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind alerted her to sudden company, but she was too engrossed in her work to turn. Besides, she could already guess who it was.

"Heya, Frankie," Bucky's voice came, and she suppressed a smirk at the accuracy of her prediction.

"Evenin'."

"We missed you at the party," He stated.

"Busy," She replied, letting out a grunt as she pinched the skin of her thumb with her wrench, flapping her hand for a moment to relieve the pain.

"Just came to see ya 'cause I don't think you've met Rosie yet."

Frankie let out a sigh, sliding her wrench into her pocket, speaking as she began to turn. "Bucky, if you boys have got yourselves another fucking dog, I swear-"

There was another man there, standing next to Egan, blue eyes watching her as she stumbled over her words, trailing to an awkward stop. She had a smear of oil across her forehead from where she had absent-mindedly wiped the sweat from her brow with a filthy hand, and Bucky pursed his lips tightly as he tried not to laugh.

"Not a dog," Rosie stated, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

"No," She breathed, snapping herself out of her awkwardness. "No, uh, sorry - Frankie, I'm Frankie," Holding out her hand to shake, she noticed its filthiness and grimaced, swiftly retracting it.

"Frankie's one of our mechanics," Egan explained. "She'd be happiest if we fired the rest of the ground crew and let her do the whole thing herself."

"But then who'd clean the dog shit and vomit out for me, eh?" Frankie shrugged, a pink spatter colouring her cheeks. Bucky almost frowned, taken aback by her uncharacteristically awkward demeanour.

"Look, I promised Buck I'd only be gone five minutes, so," He looked down at his watch, shrugging.

"No, no, that's fine, you have a good night," Frankie smiled, wiping her dirty palms on the sides of her trousers.

Bucky turned to leave, pausing for a moment. "Rosenthal?"

"Oh, no, I was gonna head off anyway, thanks Major," Rosie nodded, and they lingered in silence for a moment after Egan left, his silhouette disappearing into the darkness down the runway.

"Sorry I thought you were a dog," She chuckled slightly, breaking the quiet as she rubbed her thumb where she'd pinched the skin, a red mark forming.

"Well," Rosie shrugged, standing with his hands in his pockets. "Been called worse."

Frankie smiled, a flash of teeth in her grin as she glanced back at the engine for a moment, the great thing looming over her in its frame. "And... sorry Bucky dragged you all the way out here, I'm sure the party is much more interesting, and-"

"Hey, you don't have to apologise," He shook his head. With the work light shining on them, it seemed to cast a halo around her head, brown hair running golden along its edges. Even covered in filth, she must've been one of the prettiest girls he'd seen in... well, he couldn't quite recall. "How long have you been out here?"

"Uh, what time is it - eight?"

Rosie let out a laugh. "Gone midnight."

"Jesus Christ," She flashed him a tired grin. "Shit, I missed dinner."

"Well," He shrugged. "I am a Captain. Sure we can find something."

"You're on," Frankie agreed, the empty feeling in her stomach suddenly amplified once she realised how long it had been since she'd eaten. "Although, I'd better clean up first," She noted, wiping her hands on one of the engine rags.

"By the way, you've got a little-" Rosie gestured to his own forehead.

"Oh, shit," Frankie muttered, reaching up with the rag and just managing to miss the oil stain. He let out a chuckle, stepping forward.

"Here, lemme just-" She offered up the rag, and he dabbed at the stain, which less went away than it did smudge even more. He furrowed his brow as he tried to get rid of it, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sheer concentration in his expression, their faces far closer than she would ever usually allow with a man she'd only just met. But there was something endearing in him, something safe. "I think... I think I got it."

"Thanks," Frankie chuckled, taking back the rag and stepping back towards the Nissen hut. "I'm just gonna wheel this engine inside and wash the crap off my hands, then we can go."

"I await your return, milady," Rosie nodded, smile turning to a cringe as she turned away from him. What was that? Don't say that!

She smiled to herself as she entered the hut, her pleased expression turning to a grimace as she got a waft of herself, the twelve-hour shift out in the sun making itself known. Oh shit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The mess hall was completely deserted, the only light coming from the kitchens as Frankie waited patiently for Rosie to return. He had volunteered to go and scrounge for food, confident that his rank would protect them if they were discovered, and she grinned as he returned, proudly carrying a large tin of peaches and a couple of bars of ration chocolate.

"Oh, perfect. Midnight feast," She beamed, taking a seat on one of the long benches that lined the tables as he sat down opposite, producing a tin opener from his pocket.

"Food fit for kings, I'd say," Rosie agreed, wrestling with the peaches for a moment until he was able to break the lid. Producing two forks, Frankie held one out to him, using her own to skewer a slice of the orange fruit.

"I'd just like to preface this by saying that I don't usually smell like this... actually, I do," She admitted, picking at some dirt stuck beneath her nail.

"Hey, I'm not judging - you wouldn't either once you'd smelled the inside of our flight suits," He shrugged, and she let out a huff of laughter, chewing on her peach slices, a droplet of sweet juice running down her lip. "So... how long've you been a mechanic?"

"Dad's been running an auto repair shop at home since before I was born, I grew up on it," Frankie explained, skewering another slice with one hand as she unwrapped her chocolate bar with the other. "He wanted to go over to France, help fix army jeeps, but he lost his foot in the Great War so they won't take him - I was born when he was away, see, he'd been over there for six months or so when a shell went off and he lost it. So the cars were all we had. I switched to planes when I was about fifteen - bit of an impractical hobby, but I've read every single book on it they had in Stratford library," She chuckled.

"Stratford... Shakespeare, right?"

Her brow raised. "Yeah. Right. Y'know I think the only good thing about this war is that the tourist buses have stopped coming around," She joked, and Rosie laughed, nodding along as he ate. Why was she telling him all this? In the last hour, he'd found out more about her than Bucky or Lemmons had in months. But she found she didn't feel embarrassed telling him any of it, the words just flowed naturally.

They sat there in the dim mess hall eating peaches until they started to feel sick, the hands of Rosie's watch ticking steadily past 1am by the time they left, making sure to hide all evidence of their midnight raid. It had begun to rain by the time they stepped out into the night air, and before Frankie could utter a single word of complaint he had shrugged off his uniform jacket and given it to her to hold over her head, her own makeshift shelter whilst his own curls fell flat, the water leaving dark streaks down his shirt.

"Are you sure about this?" She asked for what must have been the third time as they reached the end of her row of Nissen huts, Rosie's hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, his skin almost visible through the drenched state of his clothes.

"I said stop asking," He assured her, nodding confidently despite the visible trembling in his shoulders.

"I'm just worried I'm gonna ruin your jacket."

"Well, it'd die for a worthy cause."

Frankie grinned, slowing to a stop as she reached the front door of her hut. The lights were all off inside, not a single sign of life as her bunkmates enjoyed their well-earned sleep. When she spoke again, it was in whispers, careful not to wake them even despite the hammering of rain against the metal roof.

"Thank you for dinner, it was... unexpected."

"Very," Rosie nodded in agreement, mirroring her smile. She handed over his jacket, and he folded it, tucking it beneath his arm, already well past its usefulness.

"Tomorrow's gonna be a rough morning."

"Take the day off, have a lie-in, you deserve it."

She raised a brow, and he laughed. "You know I won't."

"I suspected as much," He agreed, nodding firmly. "G'night, Frankie."

"Goodnight."

Frankie slipped carefully inside, cautious not to make a sound as she crept over to her bed, stripping off her wet coveralls as she reached quickly for her nice, warm pyjamas.

When George's whispered voice broke the silence, she swore she almost had a heart attack. "You've been... working?"

"Something like that," Frankie shrugged, taking the fact she was awake as a sign of consent to turn her lamp on, giving her the light she needed to untie her boots. "Have you met the new Captain?"

"Who, Rosenthal? No. Why?"

She didn't answer for a long moment, buttoning up her pyjama shirt before flicking off the lamp, plunging the room into total darkness as she climbed beneath the blankets, letting out a satisfied sigh at the warmth.

"He's nice."

George let the silence simmer for a moment, her tone laced with suspicion. "... Right."

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #masters of the air oc #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #john egan #ken lemmons #curtis biddick #oc: frankie #oc: george #fic | i'm your man #robert rosenthal

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 28 days

Text

Never Say Never

Chapter 16

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7.9K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Two weeks later found you at the baseball diamond for the boys first game of the season. Your group took up an entire section of the bleachers, everyone had showed up to cheer the kids on. You were squeezed between Robin and Janice, Matt on Janice’s other side. In front of you were Dustin, Lucas, Max, Nancy, and Jonathan. Behind you was El, Mike, Will, Nolan, Joyce, Karen, and Hopper. Jeremiah had a literal cheering section that was there for him and it hit you that now, so did Eli. Somehow, the two of you were not only lucky enough to get Steve, but also the entire family that came along with him.

You caught sight of Judith out of the corner of your eye, walking up, looking more out of place than a string quartet at a toddler’s birthday party. Who showed up to a baseball game in heels and a pantsuit? Judith did. You fought the urge to roll your eyes or hide. Judith’s eyes darted over the bleachers, looking for you, wincing at the raucous ruckus the dad she was standing next to was making as he loudly bragged about his son.

“Uh-oh…the she-beast has arrived,” muttered Janice, nodding in your mother-in-law’s direction.

“I saw,” you sighed, rising to your feet, waving your hand to make it easier for Judith to find you. There would be no hiding. Sometimes being the responsible adult sucked.

Judith somehow managed to look both annoyed and relieved at the sight of you. Sending one last scathing look toward the oblivious father, she made her way to your section of the bleachers.

“Judith!” exclaimed Karen, climbing carefully down, opening her arms in welcome. “You’re Eli’s grandmother. I’m Jeremiah’s grandmother. And so is Joyce.” She pointed to the petite woman who was currently holding onto Jonathan’s head to step down.

“So you’re Steve’s mom or are you Steve’s mom?” questioned Judith, her eyes roaming over the two, judgement evident in her eyes. You didn’t have to try too hard to imagine what she must be thinking. Joyce standing there in her baggy jeans and oversized sweatshirt and Karen all done up with bright makeup and a dress that, gasp, stopped above her knees and even showed some cleavage. Oh, the horror.

Karen laughed, her hand coming to her breast, Judith’s eyes about popping out of her head at the amount of bosom on display. Because heaven forbid a woman had the audacity to dress however she wanted, to be proud of her own body. And honestly, Karen had every right to show off. The woman was stunning.

“Oh no. Neither of us are. Steve’s parents aren’t really in the picture sadly. I’m Nancy’s mom.” She turned, pointing to the petite brunette who waved with a smile. “Nancy is Jeremiah’s mom.”

“And I’m actually Jonathan’s mom,” Joyce explained, pointing to her son who simply lifted his hand. “He’s Jeremiah’s stepdad but I’ve known Steve since he was just a young kid in high school and he’s practically a son to me. So it feels like I’m his mom, too.”

“Yeah, and I’ve known him just as long because him and Nance met in high school so he kind of feels like a son to me too. The poor boy went from having no mom to multiple moms who are always in his business whether he wants us there or not.”

Joyce shrugged, “Honestly, everyone here is family. Everyone you see behind you are Jere’s aunts and uncles.” They all waved, Dustin and Max a bit more obnoxiously than the rest. “Well, except for Hop. He’s my husband. So I guess he’s kind of like Steve’s dad for all intents and purposes.”

Hopper snorted and then shrugged, “I’ll guess I’ll claim Harrington if I have to.”

“How…unconventional of all of you,” Judith managed, her teeth gritted in a tight smile.

Your eyes slipped closed in frustration. Of course this woman had to show up and ruin what was looking to be a perfect day. She couldn’t fathom something like found family. She believed blood came before everything else. The very idea that all of these people could come together and be more important to each other than the family genetics had stuck them with was inconceivable for a brain like hers.

“Well, come on up,” Karen invited, giving her a wave. “We can all scooch and make room for you with the grandparents.”

“Oh, that’s alright. There will be no need for any…scooching. I’ll just…” Her eyes quickly scanned the bleachers. “I’ll sit right here. I’ll be fine.” Before anyone could argue with her, she dropped down in front of Max who turned, giving you a, can you believe this woman, look.

You rolled her eyes, letting Max silently know you could not believe her but honestly, you could. You'd learned to expect nothing less than constant judgement and absolute disdain from that woman. No one was ever good enough in her eyes. Judith raised her bar so high that no one, who wasn’t Justin, could ever manage to leap over it. And even he’d struggled to make that jump sometimes.

You zoned out as the boys began talking about their latest D&D campaign in front of you, your eyes drawn to the sight of Steve out on the field with the team. He stood, surrounded by boys in baseball pants and white shirts with green stripes. And god he looked good, fitted jeans that showed off the muscles in his strong thighs, a moss green short sleeved shirt, his rounded biceps peeking out from the hem as he leaned forward, hands on his knees to talk to the kids. A baseball cap sat on his head and she didn’t know what it was but you loved him in a ballcap, all those beautiful locks spilling out from underneath.

It was difficult to wrap your head around the fact that it had only been two weeks since you'd both been brave to utter those three little words, three little words with an impact big enough to change the trajectory of your lives. Two weeks of you feeling like you were walking on air, like nothing could possibly go wrong, floating in your own little bubble of bliss. It felt like so much longer. You couldn’t even remember what your life had been like before Steve had become a part of it, the endless days of just trying to make it through, and you didn’t want to.

The two of you had spent nearly every night together since that moment on the beach, much to the boy’s excitement. Not sleeping over, that was still something you were trying to move slowly with for the boys’ sake, particularly Eli. Steve had been incredibly understanding about you wanting to wait a bit before you took that step. But almost every evening the four of you ate dinner together, sometimes at your house, sometimes at his. You played board games, watched movies, went for a walk down to the local ice cream place or rode your bikes over to the park for the boys to play.

Steve had surprised you twice at work, showing up with lunch for the two of you. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will had invited the boys over one night for D&D last week and Robin had offered to take them to a movie last night to allow Steve and you some alone time. It was incredible. You hadn’t just gained Steve but an entire village of people who just showed up and were there, ready to help at a moment’s notice, and you were so thankful for every single one of them. You'd never had anyone but Janice and Matt and having so many people who were willing to pitch in, who enjoyed your kid enough to want to spend time with him, well it meant more to you than you could possibly express to them.

Your attention on Steve broke with an elbow to your side. Looking over, you found Janice grinning wickedly at you, “What were you thinking about, huh?”

“Probably last night,” teased Robin. “I took the boys to a movie so she and Steve were all alone. Replaying the highlight reel of naked time in your mind?”

“Eww! Can we not?” Mike asked.

“Oh please.” Robin rolled her eyes. “Maybe I had to censor myself when you were thirteen but you’re twenty-six now. I think you can handle knowing how babies are made.”

“Babies? I didn’t know we were talking about babies.” El’s face lit up. “Are you going to have a baby? Oh, I miss babies. Jeremiah was such a cute little baby.”

“No one is talking about babies,” you replied, noticing how stiff Judith’s posture had suddenly gotten. She was only sitting a couple rows in front of you and there was no doubt she was listening to every word being spoken, stocking up ammunition for later. You did not need that woman to have one more reason to come at you. “Jeez. You guys are being ridiculous.”

“Not yet anyway,” teased Nancy, turning around. “But I heard the ‘l’ word has been spoken so you never know…”

“Oh my god!” Max shrieked, spinning completely around in her seat, Judith doing the same, her eyes shooting daggers at you. You braced yourself but Judith quickly spun back around as Max continued gushing. “Are you serious? You’re using the love word? I knew you were in love. You got all red faced at the coffee shop that night when the word was even mentioned.”

“When’s the wedding?” Lucas wiggled his eyebrows. “Because I look like a million bucks in a tux and the way Dustin is going, I might never get to be in another wedding if you two don’t tie the knot.”

“Hey! I will have you know that Heather and I are going on our third date tomorrow night,” Dustin stated, folding his arms.

“Ohhh…” Will crooned. “You convinced her to go out with you a third time? What’d you bribe her with? Oh, or is it blackmail? You got something juicy on her that she doesn’t want revealed?”

Dustin chucked a piece of popcorn at him and Will caught it in his mouth, grinning triumphantly as he chewed. Dustin shook his head in disgust.

“I don’t think Dustin needs bribery or blackmail. Heather has been talking about him nonstop at the office,” you told them, sending a wink Dustin’s way. “She really likes you. She said she had a blast at the Science Museum with you last week.”

“Oh yeah? I had a lot of fun too. What else has she said about me?”

“Hmm. Let me think,” you taunted, tapping your finger against your chin, relieved to be talking about someone that wasn’t you with Judith sitting and listening like a hawk. “That you’re adorable and funny. She thinks you have the best smile. She told me you’re one of the nicest guys she’s ever met and that you’re super smart. She says your big brain is one of the sexiest things about you.”

Mike, Lucas, and Will began gagging on cue, perfectly synced as if they’d rehearsed it first. Dustin glared at them all but you could see how pleased he was at the information you'd just relayed to him. And it was all true. You'd been teasing Heather all week about what a smitten little kitten she was. They were awfully cute together.

“And speaking of new romance,” you sang, bopping your elbow into Robin’s side. “How goes it with the lovely June?”

Robin’s face flushed a brilliant shade of scarlett. She grabbed onto a piece of her hair, toying with it, a coy smile lifting the corners of her mouth. Clearly Heather wasn’t the only smitten kitten around here.

“June?” came Judith’s voice loudly. “That’s a very strange name for a man.”

“Well, that would be because June is, in fact, a woman,” Dustin stated.

Judith made a sound like a throttled gasp, her eyes going wide, “A woman? So…you’re…one of those…?”

“One of what exactly?” challenged Max, leaning forward, elbows on her knees. “A human? A woman? An American? An Earthling? What exactlt are you asking, Judith?”

Your hands clenched at your sides, bracing yourself for an ugly scene. A scene that could destroy this beautiful thing that had been building around you. Why would any of them want you to be a part of their lives when that would mean this awful woman would be a part of it too? Judith’s mouth went tight at Max’s confrontation and you braced yourself, waiting for the nasty thing that was about to come out of her mouth.

But Judith simply stated, “Never mind. It’s none of my concern,” and turned back around. Huh. She must have realized she was outnumbered and didn’t like her odds.

“So anyway, back to the matter at hand,” Max said loudly, turning to Robin.

“Yes, we’re all dying to know,” Karen exclaimed, leaning into Robin. “Are there sparks?”

“I wouldn’t say sparks…” Robin began and when they all looked crestfallen, she grinned. “More like massive explosions that could level an entire city.” She giggled. “She’s amazing. I mean, we went to the movies and it was fun, but you can’t really talk much at the movies.”

Nolan snorted, “You? You talk through movies all the time.”

“With you guys,” she huffed. “But she doesn't even know me yet. Not really. I didn’t want to give her the full dose of how neurotic I am right out of the gate. I have to give her small doses until she’s just acclimated to it and doesn’t realize the extent of my craziness. Anyway, I thought that would be the end of it. You know? I told you guys it went well but I didn’t really expect anything to come of it. Then she called and asked if I wanted to go to dinner. So we went out Tuesday night again and we were sitting in the restaurant for six hours! Six hours! Can you believe it?”

“What in the hell do you do in a restaurant for six hours?” Hopper huffed. “I mean, after you eat what else is there?” Joyce swatted him and he looked over at her, bewildered. “What?”

“Just because you have no conversational skills doesn’t mean others don’t. They were obviously talking.”

“I have conversational skills. I am very eloquent with my words, thank you very much.” He grinned when you all laughed because nothing about this bear of a man screamed eloquent. “But six hours? What could you possibly have to talk about for six hours?”

“Everything,” Robin sighed dreamily. “She was asking me all kinds of questions and she didn’t even seem to mind when I rambled. She said she thought it was cute! Can you believe it? And I learned so much about her. She loves cats. She has two of them, Hoggle and Ludo.”

“What kinds of names are those?” Judith piped up and you fought the urge to throw one of your M&Ms at the back of her head. Hadn’t the woman said enough already? Why couldn’t she just shut up?

“She’s a Labyrinth fan!” you squealed, choosing to ignore your mother-in-law completely instead. “Great taste in movies.”

“Yes! And music…she loves Blondie, Bowie, the Beatles…”

“All solid choices,” Joyce replied.

“I don’t know,” Hopper mused. “I didn’t hear any Zeppelin or Stones mentioned.”

“You’re showing your age, Hop,” Will teased.

“The game is starting,” Judith interrupted loudly. “So maybe the inappropriate talk about love lives could finish now.”

“Damn, she’s really not any fun is she?” Robin hissed in your ear.

“You have no idea,” you mumbled back with a groan. You had to keep reminding yourself that Judith was Eli’s grandmother. No matter how frustrating she was, you were going to have to deal with her but only as much as absolutely necessary. Hopefully she would just head home after the game and save you all from her unwanted presence any longer.

The game went far better than you had expected for it being the boys’ first time. Eli actually managed to hit the ball and made it all the way to third before the other team’s player managed to throw it in. Matt may have cheered the loudest, jumping out of his seat, proud of the kid he’d spent so much time in the batting cages with.

Matt’s cheering had not come as a surprise but the way the rest of them all cheered for your son did. It wasn’t just a casual, yay Eli, an obligatory cheer because their friend was dating the kid’s mom. They seemed genuinely excited, celebrating his moments of glory just as loudly and proudly as they did Jeremiah’s. When Jeremiah ran into home, breaking the tie and winning the game, you leapt from your seat, you and Nancy high fiving and hugging, two moms sharing your pride in your boys.

Both boys came racing off the field, their cheeks bright red, flushed from both the excitement and the exertion. They were swept up in a flurry of hugs and high fives from the crowd of people who had shown up just for them.

“You boys were amazing!” Hopper yelled, pulling both boys in for a bear hug. Yeah, you could definitely see where Dustin got Smokey the Bear from this guy.

“Did you see me slide right into home, grandpa? I saw that kid grab it but I just knew I had time! Daddy says to take chances!” Jeremiah beamed, the smile on his face so wide it looked painful.

“I saw it, kid. You did real good. You took the chance and it paid off. You’re going to be the next Barry Bonds, just watch. And you!” He turned his attention to Eli, his massive hand ruffling her son’s hair. “That was a hell of a hit, kid. Making it all the way to third before they could get it. You gave them a run for their money. They were scrambling after that ball.”

Eli looked so proud that your heart could burst. Judith stepped forward. She’d been keeping to the outside of the group, clearly uncomfortable, uncertain how to make herself known. You had no doubt it was killing her to see Eli receiving so much positive attention from so many people that were not her. To see that he had other people in his life that were important to him, to not be the first person that had congratulated him on his game.

Just as she stepped forward and Eli spotted her, running into her arms for a hug, Steve was making his way over from the diamond, a large bag slung over his shoulder. When his eyes found yours, he gave you one of those smiles that came with a side of a very flirty wink that he seemed to reserve just for you.

“Good game, huh?” he commented, a quick kiss planted on your lips. “The boys did a great job.”

“That’s because they have a great coach,” you replied, your arms slipping around his stomach, smiling up at this man who always had you in a state of complete awe.

“Everybody still up for burgers and shakes at Benny’s?” Hopper boomed out over the cacophony of noise.

You glanced over to Judith who was purposefully keeping her eyes off of you and Steve. You really didn’t want to invite her but it would be the right thing to do. She’d driven all this way for the game.

“Judith, would you like to join us?” you asked, keeping your arms firmly locked around Steve because who cared what Judith thought. You had made it clear to her that this new future with Steve did not erase your past with Justin. The woman was just going to have to get used to it.

“Oh. I…no, I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “Henry is supposed to be getting back this evening and he’ll need dinner.” She looked around to the others, feeling the need to explain, “Work trip.”

Yeah. Henry had an awful lot of work trips. Justin had confided in you that he wasn’t so sure they were all for work but he could never prove it. And Judith chose to go through life blissfully unaware. As far as you knew, you'd never confronted him or questioned him. But the two of them had never exactly been the warm and fuzzy couple. There weren’t those moments of tender touches or warm glances ever. Their relationship seemed more like a business transaction, something that was mutually beneficial to them both.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah grandma. Benny’s has the best shakes!”

Jeremiah nodded his agreement. “Eli and I both love strawberry! And Benny always brings me ranch to dip my fries in.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” Judith smiled down at the boy, seeming surprised that he was taking the time to talk to her. She jumped when Joyce came up next to her, placing an arm around her shoulders.

“Come on Judes.” You brought your hand to your mouth to cover the snort that had slipped out at Joyce’s choice of nickname. Robin clearly found it just as amusing as she shoved her face into El’s shoulder, her body shaking with laughter. “It’ll be fun. And if these two crazy kids are going to be doing the family thing, then that means we all need to do the family thing, right?”

“Yeah, Judes,” Max agreed, grinning as if this were the best moment of her life. “We’re all one big happy family now. We all love Eli and he loves us. Right, kid?”

Eli leapt from the ground as he proudly exclaimed, “Yeah!” He turned to Judith. “Dustin and Mike and Will and Lucas all play this really cool game called Dungeons and Dragons and they’re teaching me all about it. And Robin took us to see this movie, First Kid. It’s about this kid who is the president’s son and he has a bodyguard. It’s so funny and she got us popcorn and Skittles because she says Skittles are the superior candy. And Max is teaching me how to skateboard! I fell off a couple times but I’m starting to get the hang of it. She says I’ll be a pro by the end of summer. And El came over and helped us make slime when we spent the night with Nancy and Jonathan. They let us stay up until midnight and we got to do s’mores over the fire in their backyard. It was so cool. And Hopper let us ride in his police car! He even turned on the lights and the siren for us and he brought us one of those pads to do fingerprints! And Joyce makes the best spaghetti. We went to her house for dinner and Will is an artist and he showed us all these cool things he drew when he was just our age!”

Judith looked a bit taken aback as Eli kept rambling, caught off guard at how large a part of his life each of these people were now. You almost felt sorry for her, the sadness in her eyes, knowing how she wished she was closer so she could be a bigger part of Eli’s life. Almost but not quite because the woman was her own worst enemy.

“I don’t know. Henry…”

“Is a grown man who can fend for himself,” you reminded her. “He’s fifty-six Judith. The man should know how to at least make a sandwich.”

Judith’s hands wrung together, an internal battle playing over her face. Damn. Was she really that programmed by that man or was her uncertainty coming from all the new people, the fact that she would be the one outside looking in instead of at the center of it all?

“Come on. It will be fun,” Karen urged. “My husband, Tedd, isn't here either. We’ll be two crazy ladies without their husbands. I mean, who needs them anyway, right?”

Judith laughed, her hand flying to her mouth, eyes going wide as if she couldn’t believe she’d just done that. You pressed your lips together in amusement. So there was a woman desperate for fun in there just waiting to break free. You could see it in the sparkle of those ocean blue eyes, so much like her son’s.

“Are you sure you want me to come?” she asked, the question directed at you.

You smiled, stepping forward, placing your arm around Judith’s shoulders, “Of course I do.”

Maybe this could work out after all. Maybe Judith wasn’t as awful as she seemed. Perhaps all that bluster and rudeness came from a place of deep fear. Fear not that her son would be forgotten, but that she would. Fear that you would move on and in turn, so would Eli, and she would be left with nothing after losing her only child besides a husband that was more boring than watching paint dry. Perhaps all of this had simply been because no one but Justin had ever really thought she mattered.

Judith’s mouth lifted at the corners, her entire demeanor changing with that subtle smile. It made her appear far more approachable and soft. She nodded.

“Okay. I haven’t had a milkshake in years. Do they have malts? Oh, malts were my favorite.”

“Mine too!” Hopper bellowed. “And you won’t find a better malt than Benny’s. Come on. You can ride with us old folks.” He pulled his keys from his pocket.

“Oh! That's quite alright. I don’t want to inconvenience you. Then you would have to bring me back here. I have my own car if you just want to tell me how to get there.”

“Nonsense!” Joyce looped her arm in Judith’s, tossing you a wink. “You are not an inconvenience. Us grandmas have to stick together. Come on. We’ll let the young ones be. We’ll have plenty of time to tell you all sorts of juicy stories about Steve this way.”

Steve groaned, his head rolling around his shoulders, “Or not!”

“You’ll love this one, Judith,” Karen laughed, taking her other arm as they led her toward the parking lot. “One time I found Steve climbing up the trellis of our house to sneak and see Nancy…”

“Great,” muttered Steve as their words faded, shaking his head. “Your mother-in-law is never going to like me once those three fill her head with every screw up I’ve ever made.”

“It doesn’t matter if she likes you,” you reminded him, rising up to your tiptoes to press your lips to his. “Because I do.”

“Besides, she’ll figure out for herself what a dingus you are before too long,” Robin snorted, yelping when Steve shoved her backward.

“So, how do you think this is going to go?” asked Janice who had always chosen to keep her distance. After one meeting with Judith, Janice preferred to not deal with her at all if she could, always saying she was going to open her mouth and piss the woman off if she said one more negative thing about you in front of her.

“With Judith…who knows…”

___________________________________________________________

But it went far better than Steve could have possibly imagined. He’d pictured Judith sitting there stiffly, staring them all down as she judged every single word they said. Or possibly offending every single person at the table with her words at some point. Or announcing to the entire table why Steve shouldn’t be with you. However, none of that happened.

Sitting between Karen and Joyce, the woman had loosened. As if the two others had slowly unraveled the strings that had been knotting her up for years and she could finally breathe. She smiled. She even laughed. And even though he’d only known her a very short time, it had even shocked him to see. He hadn’t been sure the woman was capable of frivolity of any kind. Forget actually enjoying anything.

And the best part of it was that you seemed to finally be relaxed. You sat at the other end of the table, Steve on one side of you and Janice on the other, keeping your distance from Judith. But every now and then you would look down at the woman and smile. Your two worlds were coming together and it wasn’t the horrendous clash you’d expected. They were actually appearing to meld quite seamlessly.

By the time dinner was over, everyone was heading out full and in good spirits. Judith had even smiled politely when Robin asked if Steve and you would want to double date with her and June soon. She swallowed down any bullshit bias she had. If she was going to be ignorant, at least she was following the golden rule and keeping her damn mouth shut if she had nothing nice to say.

After saying your goodbyes, Steve drove you and the boys back to his house. You fed Miles while Steve headed out back to get a fire going. The boys raced upstairs to play on the Nintendo 64 for a while. You stepped onto the back deck, sliding the door shut after Miles raced out behind her, instantly doing zoomies throughout the yard.

God, you were pretty. Even weeks after meeting, he still found himself in awe of you. Jeans that wrapped around each and every curve in a way that had his hands twitching at his sides, wanting to follow those familiar hills and valleys. You hated shoes and socks, lost them as soon as you could, something he’d learned about you over the past weeks, so bare pink toes peeked out from beneath the flared denim. The Bowie shirt you wore was cropped, a sliver of your soft stomach exposed. Your hair was up in a high ponytail, only accentuating your neck which was just calling to his mouth.

You tilted your head, those perfectly pink cotton candy lips pursing in a way that had him thinking so many thoughts that were not anywhere near the ballpark of holy. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and he fought the urge to pinch himself, to prove these last weeks weren’t some fever dream that he was going to wake from.

“See something you like?” Your tone was light, playful, as he slowly made his way up onto the deck until he stood right in front of you.

“I most certainly do.” Fingers gripped your hips, tugging you into him until you could feel just how much he liked what he was seeing. “You have no idea the effect you have on me.”

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea right now,” you chuckled, hands tracing over his chest and shoulders to loop around his neck. “But sadly for you, there are children afoot so there is not much I can do about that at the moment.”

“You simply existing does it for me. You don’t have to do anything but appear, honey. That’s it. You laugh. You smile. You cross your legs. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You take a sip of coffee. It all does it for me.”

“Yeah? Well, same for me. I swear I dreamed you into existence, Steve Harrington. I didn’t believe guys like you existed. I thought they were meant for storybooks and movies.”

Heat rushed over his cheeks at your compliment. “I’m no fairytale prince, honey but I promise to try to give you a happily ever after.”

Your teeth pulled at your bottom lip, your eyes widening just slightly at his words and he was doubting himself all over again. Should he not have said that? Was that pushy? But hadn’t you said forever? Hadn’t you said it just a couple weeks ago? That if you both were all in then you had to be planning on forever?

“Happily ever after? That sounds nice,” you murmured, pulling him in until your lips met, all his doubt vanishing like vapor on the air with your words.

His arms wound around you, lifting you up onto your toes, crushing your bodies together. You moaned softly, the sound swallowed by his lips, and his jeans felt painfully tight. You tasted just as sweet as you looked, chocolate milkshake met with cherry lip balm, a combination that had his head spinning.

Everything else ceased to exist for him when your lips were on his. Your tongue parted his lips, slipping along his own, and he couldn’t have told you what color the sky was or what month of the year it was. There was only you and him, locked in this moment that he wanted to make last until eternity. If this was how he would spend the rest of his days on this Earth, he could be okay with that.

But you did manage to think, pulling back, your lips now slick, curved into the prettiest smile, your eyes heavy with the desire that was racing under his skin. He wanted you. He always wanted you and with the boys, he never had you nearly enough. But the boys were right upstairs and he knew you couldn’t risk it. Those kids could be down and out the door before they even heard a sound.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, your questioning barreling through his brain fog. “You don’t have to thank me. I’ll kiss you anytime you want.”

“No,” you chuckled, swatting at him. “Thank you for today, for dealing with Judith. I know she’s…difficult. But I don’t know. She seemed a little different today. I have hope. It's a very small hope but hope that maybe she’s coming around. But I know she wasn’t very nice to you and the fact that you are willing to put up with her…I’m just really grateful because you don’t have to, you know.”

“Of course I do.” Steve slid his hand down your arm, locking your fingers together. He led you to the lounger, sitting and pulling you down in his lap. His nose traced your jaw, nuzzled into your hair. “She’s a part of your life and she’s a part of Eli’s life. If I want to be a part of your life then that means she’s part of mine too.”

“That’s…very kind of you.”

“No. It’s not.” He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning your face to his. “Look. When I said I was all in, I meant it. I don’t get to be all in and then pick and choose what I am willing to handle. Anything that comes your way comes my way now too. Anything that’s heavy for you, you got me to help you carry it. Anything that’s hurting you, I will step in front of. That’s the deal. It’s not just you anymore. It’s us. We’re a team.”

“Okay coach,” you beamed, teasing but your eyes betrayed your lighthearted tone, shimmering with emotion at his words.

Wasn’t that what a relationship was supposed to be? Two people against the world? He loved this woman. He wanted to be in your life. He wanted to crawl inside your skin and live there the way you did in his. You had managed to slither your way inside. You were in the blood that ran through his veins, in every single beat of his heart, in the very cells that made up his skin.

Yeah. You came with baggage but who didn't? And he was more than willing to help you carry that load because you were more than worth it. You were everything he hadn’t even known he’d been searching for. He’d looked for so long, in all the wrong places, never knowing that the one that would finally fill in all those hollow places inside him already existed in the same town as him.

Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was an awful thing to think, but it felt like fate had brought you together. He was so sorry that your husband had died but maybe this was the course your lives had to take for you to find one another. He’d thought about what if he’d been first. What if he’d stumbled across you when you were out with your friends thirteen years ago? It had made him feel like an absolute piece of shit, but he couldn’t help but wonder what life would be like if he’d been the one.

But then there would be no Jeremiah. There would be no Eli. You wouldn’t have known the love she already had with your husband. He wouldn’t have gotten the thump on his head that he needed for him to see you, truly see you, to understand how lucky he was to have you. Maybe the two of you had to go through all that heartache and disappointment to come to this place, where you could truly appreciate what you had. So you would never take it for granted, never throw it away, or treat it carelessly.

So yeah. Maybe Steve hadn’t been your first but he had every intention of being your last. Your last boyfriend, your last love, your last kiss, your last everything. Because he’d chosen wrong so many times before, yes, but he hadn’t this time. He knew it like he knew his own name, like he knew the sun would rise tomorrow, like he knew the beat of his son's heart. He’d chosen right this time and there was nothing that would make him walk away. He would spend the rest of his life showing you just how much you meant to him. He would never take for granted this amazing gift that had somehow walked right onto his baseball field and into his life.

“So, can I ask…I think you were going to tell me that day at the lake but we got a little sidetracked. What is the deal with you and Judith?”

Your head tipped back, eyes tracking the stars as you inhaled deeply, “I don’t know. There was never a specific moment or an event. It’s not like we had a falling out. She’s just always been like that with me. From the moment Justin introduced me to her, she treated me like I just wasn’t good enough. I was never enough for her precious son, you know?”

Steve snorted, “She’s nuts. Has she met you?”

“You’re sweet but I don’t think there’s anything I could ever do that would be enough for her. She always wanted to be the most important to him and I feel like she saw me as a threat. I mean, it’s insane. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work? You raise your son to be a good man. You hope they find someone who will see that and love them. They choose their person and that person should come first. I mean, it’s the logical order of things. But she never saw it like that. It was like she always had to find a flaw in me to prove that she was better, that she loved Justin more, that his love for her outshone his love for me.”

“Did he…”

“No.” You cut him off, shaking your head. “No. Absolutely not. He took off as soon as he could. That’s why he joined the Marines, to get away from her. He told me he felt like she was smothering him and he couldn't breathe in that house anymore. He also didn’t have the best relationship with his dad. I think Henry cheats on Judith all the time. I’m pretty sure that’s why he goes on so many ‘business trips…’” You air quoted the words. “I think they’re far more pleasure than business. Justin thought so too. He just had to get away from it.”

“Well, I understand the need to get away from toxic parents. Mine weren’t smothering…quite the opposite actually. They just were indifferent unless I was disappointing them. Did you two even see her very much if their relationship wasn’t the best?”

“Not really.” Your fingers trailed along his hand, running over his knuckles. “Holidays, birthdays…you know, the required stuff. But she would be Judith and Henry, well, when he was actually there, he would pick apart Justin. He thought he was a waste, going into the military instead of going to college. Justin was always in a horrible mood when we left. He would put off seeing them for as long as he could.”

“What about Eli? Did they want to be around when he came along?”

“Oh yeah. Well, Judith did anyway. Saw him as her second chance at getting someone to love her best. But Justin kept her at arm’s length as much as he could. He hated seeing what having her around did to me. She questioned everything I did, judged me, picked me apart. She always made me feel like an awful mother. When Eli was first learning to walk, he fell. You know how they are at that age. Their heads are too big for their bodies and they’re like a weeble wobble. He fell and smashed his forehead into the corner of the wall. He had a huge goose egg and I was panicked that he had a serious brain injury. We took him to the E.R. Judith showed up and immediately started telling me what an incompetent mother I was, questioning what I’d been doing when he fell, why I wasn’t watching him. Justin lost it. He blew up at her right in the middle of the hospital. That was the moment he told her that if she couldn’t respect his wife and the mother of his child, then she was no longer welcome to be a part of our lives. I’ve never seen her so put in her place. She had no idea how to respond. Anyway, we didn’t hear from her for about a month after that. It was a bit better then but things with her and I have always been a bit…precarious.”

“Jesus. She sounds awful. And she’s clearly no fan of mine but that’s alright. I don’t need to impress her. The only person I care about impressing is you.” He wiggled his eyebrows, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“Oh, I am very impressed Mr. Harrington. Very impressed,” you mused, your arms winding around his neck, nose nuzzling gently over his own.

Steve was overcome with the desire to keep you there, to never let you go. Every night, when he would have to gather his things or watch you gather yours, it left him with a hollow ache. Maybe it was soon but who decided how soon was too soon? Was it too soon when all he could think about when you weren't around was seeing you again? Was it too soon when he laid in bed, inhaling the scent of vanilla and pear that you left behind, craving the warmth of your body curled into his?

“Stay,” he whispered, a plea sent on his breath to your skin, his nose tracing your cheek.

“What?”

“Stay. Stay the night with me.” His fingers wrapped around your biceps, holding you against him, willing you to agree. “I know why you’ve wanted to wait. I understand your reasons but your reasons aren’t really reasons anymore.”

“Steve…”

He was losing you. You were going to rationalize your way out of this and he couldn’t let you. He was overcome with an irrational need to get you to stay, to sleep curled up in his arms, to cement the decision that you were real, that this was it. That he was enough for you. That you wanted this as much as he did. He was pushing and he knew it but he couldn’t stop himself. He needed to know. He was in so deep here. He needed to know that you were in it too, barely keeping your head above water, sinking into the depths with him.

“No. Look, the whole reason you wanted to wait was because you didn’t want Eli getting his hopes up just for this to all end. You didn’t want him to see this as serious with him already assuming things. But this is serious and this isn’t ending. Right?”

“I mean, I don’t plan on it but…”

“No. No buts,” he insisted, hands sliding down your arms to wrap around your hands, holding them against him. Bowing his head, he brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing a kiss over them. “This isn’t ending. I’m not going anywhere. Do you plan on going anywhere?”

“Well no…”

“So then why not?”

“I don’t know. I mean, do you really think it’s appropriate for us to share a bed with the boys in the house?”

“Did you share a bed with your husband when Eli was home?”

“That’s different and you know it.”

“Why? Because we’re not married? Marriage is a piece of paper, honey. It’s a piece of paper that doesn’t mean anything because it can be torn in half and discarded so easily. I love you. You love me. The boys want this to happen. I’m not saying let’s get down and dirty.” He grinned devilishly, his cheek running over yours. “Not that I don’t want to. But would it really be inappropriate to sleep in the same bed? When we move in together, we’ll be sharing a bed, right?”

You pulled back, a look of sheer anxiety across your face, “When we…when we move in together?”

“I mean, eventually, right? That would be the logical next step. It’s silly to keep two houses when we spend most of our time together. I mean, whenever we’re apart all I can think about is the next time I get to have you in my arms. I know it may seem soon but really, we’re the only ones who get to decide what soon is. And the way I feel about you, I know it got intense pretty fast but…”

His word died in his throat as he felt the shift in you. Your chest rose and fell rapidly against his, your heart beating a rapid tempo against his skin. Releasing your hands, he grabbed your face, attempting to get your eyes to focus on him. But they were glazed, wide, staring off into nothing as you descended into a full blown attack, an attack he’d caused.

“Hey, hey…you’re okay, baby. Look at me. Come on. Just breathe with me, honey,” he urged.

You were gasping, small little squeaking sounds emitting as you struggled to take in air. Jesus Christ. What had he done? Exactly what he’d sworn he wouldn’t do. He’d pushed you, ran up behind you and shoved you off the ledge before you were ready. And now you w were free falling as he ran underneath you, trying to catch you but failing.

“Shit! Baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You don’t have to spend the night. We’re not moving in together. It’s okay. I’m moving too fast. I do it all the time and I’m sorry. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Just breathe for me, please.”

But you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. He grabbed onto your hands again. They were ice cold. Your skin was damp, clammy, a sheen of sweat coating your forehead and upper lip. And then you were shaking, trembling and he grasped your arms, pulling your body against his but it wouldn’t stop as you wheezed.

This had gone on for too long. It wasn’t stopping. You weren't coming back down. Your breathing was only getting worse if that was even possible. He had to do something.

“Boys!” he screamed as he cradled your quivering body against him. “Call 911!”

Chapter 17

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Summary: Conflict arises with Harris's new teacher, filling Halloween with more tricks than treats. But it's nothing a visit with Ms. Sweetheart can't fix.

Warnings: allusion to Reader and Eddie's one-night stand, panic attack, Reader's grandma has dementia.

WC: 5.6k

Chapter 6/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Guns N’ Roses t-shirt: check. Goodwill jeans with makeshift holes in the knees: check. Bandana tied snugly around his forehead: check. Arms littered with an assortment of temporary tattoos: check.

Eddie grins as he assesses his son’s costume, reaching into the thrift store bag as he pulls out the pièce de résistance: a denim jacket, only two sizes bigger than Harris would usually wear. It was a bit over what he’d been hoping to spend, but he’d reasoned with himself that it could also be worn after Halloween. It was an investment, he’d decided, not a splurge.

His smile falters when Harris indignantly stomps his foot, crossing his arms over his chest. While Eddie had hoped his son would go with more badass tattoo options, perhaps a skull and crossbones or even a snake, he had insisted on a Sesame Street theme. Cookie Monster munches on his signature treat as Harris pouts.

“No, Daddy!” he whines, twisting away when Eddie holds the jacket closer to him. “I can’t wear that!”

“C’mon, Har,” he tries, scouring his brain to come up with a convincing enough lie. “Axl Rose wore jackets all the time!”

Harris doesn’t just shake his head; he swivels his entire body back and forth in protest. “I don’t care! No one’s gonna be able to see my tattoos!” He holds out both arms in front of him; nearly every square inch (besides the section blocked by his cast) is covered. Eddie had spent most of last night diligently applying them precisely where Harris had asked, lest there be a tantrum. There was, unfortunately, a headless Elmo from when Harris had asked–no, demanded–that he try by himself. Still, Eddie figured that only one casualty was a win.

“Those are some sweet ol’ tatties,” Eddie muses, biting back a laugh at the two-dimensional Big Bird on his son’s forearm. “But wouldn’t it be cool if you wore the jacket into school and then–BAM!--took it off and surprised everyone with them?

Harris appears to consider this, mouth tucked into his cheeks. “Can I show Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Sure, bud. We’ll stop by her classroom when I pick you up.” Whatever gets us out of the house in weather-appropriate attire. “But first, show me your most metal pose.”

The boy opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue as far as it extends, scrunching his face dramatically until the corners of his eyes crinkle. His middle and ring fingers press into his palm, thumb crossing over them, with his forefinger and pinky raised in the quintessential rock ‘n roll symbol.

Eddie swoops down and smacks a wet kiss to Harris’s cheek. “That’s my boy!”

Standing among the crowd of parents at pick-up, Eddie opts out of making banal small talk and instead chooses to look at the bulletin board. The previous art project that had been hanging against the faded blue paper–”self-portraits” that the students had made on the first day of school–have been replaced by finger paintings of orange blobs that vaguely resemble pumpkins. There wasn’t one for Harris because he was in Ms. Sweetheart’s classroom then, so it’s his first art project in his new class. He eagerly scans the board for Harris’s, frowning when he can’t find his name.

Maybe it’s still drying, he tries to convince himself, imagining his son over-saturating the paper with globs of paint. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character.

Ms. Marion’s classroom is a sea of costumed children. A boy dressed as one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stands by his mom. A Cinderella, a black cat, and a Thomas the Tank Engine surround Ms. Paula. As soon as Eddie spots Harris, he smiles and waves him over, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the sign-out sheet.

He expects Harris to zoom past the other kids, fueled by the standard Halloween diet of sugar and chocolate, but he just kind of…mopes to the doorway. His shoulders slump dejectedly, and though he keeps his gaze low, Eddie can still see the film of mist staining his innocent eyes.

“Har, what’s wrong?” He waits for an answer, and when he doesn’t receive one–an oddity for his perpetually chatty son–he tries a new tactic. “Wanna show me where your artwork is? I must be gettin’ old, because I couldn’t find it on the board out there.”

“‘S not there,” Harris mumbles, scratching off a flaking piece of the Rosita tattoo on the back of his hand. “I didn’t get to finish.”

Eddie watches as the tears start to slip down his cheeks, and he brings him into the hallway before Ms. Marion or Ms. Paula sees what’s going on. He can’t be certain, but his paternal instincts tell him that they’ve contributed to Harris’s sad state. “Why not?”

“I-I t-tried, but M-Ms. Mar-Marion and Ms. P-Paula got m-mad at me.” The words come out between choked sobs. “‘C-Cuz I c-couldn’t sit d-down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I k-keeped st-standing up, ‘cuz m-my legs wanted to st-stand.” The explanation tumbles out of him so quickly, as though he’s trying to beat the clock. “And they s-said if I did-didn’t sit down, I c-couldn’t do art. But I k-keeped f-f-forgetting, and th-they t-taked away my pay-pay-paper and said, ‘sit in the c-corner!’”

Eddie’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Did…did that happen in Ms. Sweetheart’s class? The legs thing?”

“Mhm,” Harris manages, “b-but she let me stand and d-do ju-jumps to get the wig-wiggles out. She just t-t-telled me not to do ju-jumps with s-s-scissors, ‘cuz of s-safety.” His breathing increases to a rapid pace, face flushing red as his chest heaves. “B-But Ms. M-Marion ye-ye-yelled at me!”

Eddie’s brows pinch together, and he gently presses his calloused palms against Harris’s narrow shoulders, desperate to prevent him from hyperventilating. “Harris, you gotta calm down. I can’t understand you when you’re crying like this!” Despite his efforts, his frustration bleeds into his tone, and he winces when the latter sentence ends with an unwanted snap. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just an art project.”

“Harris?”

The sound of your voice draws the attention of both Munsons. You let out a small oof as Harris flings himself against your legs, and though he practically flew the five foot distance between his father and you, now is not the time to remind him about using his walking feet.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” You crouch down, taking his hand in yours, and notice his quick, shallow breaths. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Eyes on me.” You demonstrate inhaling for three seconds, holding for three seconds, and exhaling for three seconds. “Now let’s do it together.”

He hesitates but ultimately follows your lead, and you guide him until his breathing slows enough for him to sputter, “I t-tried to sit, b-but I c-couldn’t.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but Eddie fills you in. You feel the heat of anger creeping through your body, not just for the way your co-worker treated the sweet boy, but for her insolent approach to teaching as a whole.

“We can go to my classroom,” you offer, silently sighing in relief when the boy nods in agreement. “I don’t know if I have the supplies to make the same project as Ms. Marion, but if you have a few minutes, you can draw something now. I bet Mr. Will would love to help you; he’s a super-duper artist.”

Just as you’d predicted, Will jumps at the opportunity to help Harris with his impromptu art project, encouraging him to draw something that makes him happy. While he does that, you comb through the mess left behind from the Halloween party you’d thrown. You’d sooner toss one hundred cupcake wrappers in the trash before attempting a conversation with Eddie Munson. He’s simply too unpredictable; kind and thoughtful one day, harsh and guarded the next.

One of the wrappers in your hand drops to the floor and you reach forward to pick it up, pinching the pleated material between your pointer and middle fingers. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your form, the way the backs of your thighs are slightly exposed when you bend over, and you stand up quickly.

“Are you the Magic School Bus lady?” He takes in your lavender dress with planets and stars stamped all over it. Oh. He wasn’t checking you out; he was just trying to figure out who you’d dressed up as. Good. Anything else would be inappropriate.

So why does a twinge of disappointment radiate through you?

You glance at your costume; with all of the commotion, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing one “I mean, would I even be a teacher if I didn’t jump at the chance to be Ms. Frizzle?” You motion over to Will, decked out in green from head to toe with two yellow horns glued to a headband atop his mop of brown hair. “Have you met my trusty sidekick, Liz the Lizard?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, Byers actually used to play in my D&D club back in high school. Made some pretty sick art pieces to liven up that dingy excuse for a room.”

You look between the two of them, trying to do the mental math. “Will, didn’t you say you’re twenty-four?” And if Eddie is thirty, that means…

“I, uh, had a little trouble graduating,” Eddie sheepishly admits, ruffling the back of his hair and offering a tight grimace. “But I got there eventually. Class of ‘86, baby!”

“Worked out for me,” Will shrugs with a grin, looking up from Harris’s drawing. “You were the best DM Hellfire ever had. Although, rumor has it that Erica Sinclair gave you a run for your money.”

Harris picks up a yellow marker, furiously scribbling a circle in the left-hand corner of his paper. You try peering over to see the whole drawing, but he presses his whole body against the table, successfully thwarting your plans. “No peeking!” he warns, not putting his feet back on the ground until you’ve averted your gaze. “‘S a surprise.”

You put your hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll be surprised.” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, who shares a similar response in return.

“Dunno when he got so bossy,” he snorts before calling out to his son, “Har-Bear? Five more minutes. We gotta get home to trick-or-treat with Grampa Wayne.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun!” you echo as Harris grabs a purple marker from the box. “What’s your favorite candy?”

“Hmm.” Harris uses his free hand–the one with the cast–to tap his chin, continuing to color with the other one. “M&Ms. But only the plain ones. Daddy doesn’t let me have the peanut ones ‘cause he says I could choke.”

You shoot a sly, knowing look at Eddie. “I’m sure that’s the only reason. Such a selfless father.” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head innocently. “And what do you do with all of these confiscated peanut M&Ms, Mr. Munson? Donate them?”

Eddie tucks his lips into his mouth to mask his grin. “Listen, the jig is gonna be up at some point,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, loud enough so you can hear but soft enough that Harris can’t. “Let me enjoy my free candy while it lasts.”

“No judgment here,” you say with a small laugh, “they’re one of my favorites, too.”

“TA-DA!” Harris shouts, startling you, Eddie, and Will. He holds up the construction paper and smiles widely. To anyone without kids–or who didn’t teach preschool for a living–it would look like a bunch of colorful scribbles. But you can tell that he’s drawn a group of people standing by a tree (or a really, really tall flower) underneath the sun.

“Wow, Harris! That’s amazing!” you clap your hands together to punctuate your enthusiasm. “Who are all those people?”

Harris’s pointer finger travels left to right across the paper as he names each person: “That’s me, Grampa Wayne, Daddy, you, and Mr. Will!” The stick figure that represents you has a purple scribble on it, which you realize must be the costume you’re wearing. “An’ we’re all smiling because we’re happy!” Sure enough, each person has a curved red line at the bottom of their face. But there’s something else that catches your eye.

All of the people have a small space between them, except for you and Eddie. The circle that Harris drew to represent your left hand overlaps with the circle that is Eddie’s right.

You glance at the real Eddie, and if he notices, he doesn’t give any indication. “I love it, buddy.” He takes the drawing and inspects it closely. “Yup, this one’s definitely going on the fridge when we get home.” He flicks the paper for good measure. “Go clean up the markers so we can head out, Axl Rose.”

Among the noise of markers clattering back in the bins, you lean in to Eddie, inadvertently inhaling the scent of his cigarettes and cologne. For a brief moment, you’re transported back to the night fate had led you to cross paths; the thought of his lips on your neck in the stairwell has you clenching your thighs and swallowing thickly as you murmur, “I can ask him to make a new one with just you, him, and his grandpa.”

Eddie shakes his head. “N-No. I like this one.” He lets one hand drop to his side and it grazes yours. His rings brush your knuckles, and you instinctively draw back at the sensation of the cool metal and the zing of heat that pulses at his light touch. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.

“S’okay.”

He blinks a few times and redirects his attention to his son. “What do you say to Mr. Will and Ms. Sweetheart for letting you do your art project?”

Harris’s little chest swells as he inhales deeply, storing up as much oxygen as he can fit in his lungs before bellowing, “THANK YOUUUUUUU!”

Eddie brings his palm to his ear canal, rotating his forefinger as though trying to repair a punctured eardrum. “Love the enthusiasm,” he says through gritted teeth. “Seriously, though. Thank you both so much.”

“Of course,” Will says warmly, picking up the marker bin and placing it in its space on the shelf.

“Anything for Harris.” You smile, motioning towards the little boy already by his father’s side. “Have fun trick-or-treating tonight, bud! I can’t wait to hear about all the yummy candy you got.”

Harris scrunches his nose in contemplation. “Are you going trick-or-treating, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Nah,” you laugh, “I’m gonna stay home and give candy to all the kids who come by.” And pray that Grandma doesn’t curse them out, you silently add.

“Oh.” Harris pauses, grabbing his dad’s hand. “Okay, bye!”

Eddie chuckles as his son pulls him towards the door. “That’s my cue. Um, Happy Halloween,” he adds awkwardly, waving once before disappearing down the hallway.

There’s so much more that he wants to say: you’re the best; you saved the day; you should be my son’s teacher instead of that old, bitchy bat. But he didn’t have time. Maybe another day. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Wayne arrives just a few minutes after Eddie and Harris get home. As soon as his gruff voice comes over the intercom, Harris excitedly buzzes him in. “Grampa Wayne’s here!” he yells, even though Eddie’s standing right next to him. He grabs the pillowcase from the couch; it was originally white, but after Eddie accidentally threw in a red sock with the white laundry, it’s tinted light pink.

No sooner does the older man cross the threshold into the apartment, Harris is trying to drag him out again. “Let’s go, before all the good candy is gone!” he whines. His eyebrows pinch together and he drops his grandfather’s hand. “Oh, wait, I gotta show you something.” He scampers off into the kitchen, and Wayne winces when he hears the rattle of magnets falling to the floor.

“I’m okay!” Harris calls out, running back with a piece of paper in his hand. “Look what I drawed at school today!” He gives Wayne the rundown of who’s who.

Wayne analyzes each person in the picture, stopping at the overlapping circles between you and Eddie. “This is great, Har-Bear,” he muses. “Are, um, are Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart holding hands?”

“Mhm,” Harris casually confirms, taking the drawing back. “‘Cause they’re married.”

Eddie chokes on air as Wayne does a double-take. “Congrats, Ed,” he jokes, clapping a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Harris, why do you think that Ms. Sweetheart and I are married?” He wracks his brain for answers, but he can’t come to a logical conclusion. Did I talk about her in my sleep? Oh, shit, what if it was when I had that dream—

“Because you gived her a present,” Harris says, eyes innocent and wide. “And when grown-ups love each other, they give each other presents.”

“Oh, he gave Ms. Sweetheart a present, huh?” On the surface, Wayne’s words are as innocuous as Harris’s, but Eddie hears the teasing buried just beneath.

Harris nods. “Mhm. He gived her a tape!”

“It was the Toni Braxton one that she came into the shop for…that day that, uh…” Eddie raises his eyebrows at his uncle, who nods in acknowledgment. He brings his focus back to his son. “It doesn’t mean that we’re married. People have to go on dates and fall in love before they get married.”

The young boy absorbs this information. “So you should go on dates and fall in love with Ms. Sweetheart!” His face lights up at the idea of it, and it breaks Eddie’s heart to let him down.

So, he doesn’t.

“Why don’t you hang that back up so we can get outta here and get you some candy, huh?” He forces a smile and watches his son scamper into the kitchen before turning back to Wayne and shaking his head.

Harris peels a magnet off of the fridge, the one Eddie bought him on their Daddy-Son day. It has a sea lion balancing a beach ball on its snout, with HAWKINS ZOO printed in bolded letters along the bottom.

Lowering his voice to a whisper, he speaks directly to his drawing. “When Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love and get married, I’ll finally have a mommy.” He presses his hand flat against the paper as though he’s sealing in the wish. He stays like that for a moment until his dad calls his name, and he clutches his pillow case as they head out the door.

Eddie assumes that the love and marriage talk is done for the evening, but the feeling of relief doesn’t last long. The trio of Munson men is halfway down the stairwell when Wayne starts instigating. “Hey, Har, is Ms. Sweetheart pretty?”

“WAYNE!” Eddie grits his teeth and shoots a sharp look at his uncle. The last thing he needs is for Harris to get his hopes up about a blossoming romance between his dad and his former teacher.

“Oh, yeah!” Harris gleefully agrees, oblivious to the mounting tension. He grips the railing and jumps from the second to last step onto the tiled landing below. “Super pretty! Like a princess.”

The eldest Munson turns to Eddie. “Didja hear that? Pretty like a princess.”

“I heard him,” Eddie replies tersely.

“Daddy?”

No. Don’t ask me. Harris Wayne Munson, do not ask me what I think you’re going to—

“Do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty?”

Although he anticipated the question, Eddie still freezes. If he disagrees, Harris will inevitably want to know why not. And if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t name a single ugly thing about you.

He does think you’re pretty. He thinks you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. And even though he’s literally seen you naked, fully on display for him–a memory he revisits more often than he’s willing to admit–it’s the thought of what you did today that solidifies your beauty. The way you’d effortlessly calmed Harris down without Eddie even having to ask. The frown on his face almost instantly became a smile, the flow of his tears ceasing and turning into the giggles that brought sunlight into Eddie’s life. You did that.

Any woman can be sexy, but you? In that moment, you were perfect.

Fuck.

“Daddy? Hello?”

At the sound of Harris’s voice, Eddie realizes that he physically hasn’t moved from his spot on the stairs. His hand is gripping the banister so tightly that it leaves an imprint in his palm. “Yeah, buddy,” he manages through his Sahara Desert throat. “I think Ms. Sweetheart’s pretty.”

“Like a princess?” Wayne’s eyes twinkle mischievously. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to tease his nephew about a crush, and he’s not passing up this limited opportunity.

“Yeah. Like a princess.”

Education outsiders might think that Halloween is one of the worst days to be a teacher. The lethal combination of sugar and excitement barely contained in tiny costumed bodies seems like a recipe for disaster. But any teacher worth their salt will tell you that there is a day far, far worse than Halloween: November 1st.

On Halloween, there is the expectation for fun. There’s a costume parade, classroom trick-or-treating, and even a little party. The kids are out of control, but who cares? It’s Halloween.

But on November 1st, there is work to be done. And you’re expected to teach the months of the year to 10 four-year-olds who are suffering from candy hangovers and won’t stop asking why they can’t go trick-or-treating again today.

You and Will are preparing for battle as students trickle in, excited to show off the candy stashes they acquired the night before. Abby Carver cries because she ate her Reese’s cup and now she’s sad that it’s gone. Joshua Harrington is continuing to “sling webs” at the other kids despite your incessant reminders that he is no longer Spider-Man. A fight over a KitKat bar breaks out not even five minutes into the day, and you confiscate it before someone causes serious bodily harm.

Two fingers lightly tap on your shoulder—too high up to be a kid—and you whirl around with an irritated, “what?”

“Whoa,” Eddie says, concern etched into his otherwise soft features. He takes a small step back, nearly tripping over a rogue Lego that somehow made its way out of the toy area. He stumbles but catches his balance easily. “Everything okay?”

“‘S a warzone out here,” you try and joke, but you feel it fall flat. You’re too tired for humor. Grandma may not have yelled at the trick-or-treaters like you’d feared, but she did get increasingly angrier with each knock on the door. After the fifth time of her snarling at you to “shut the hell up” (like you could simultaneously be on both sides of the door), you’d relented and just put the candy bowl on the welcome mat, scribbling “TAKE ONE” on a yellow sticky note, adhering it to the plastic container.

Two decades earlier, Halloween at Grandma’s house had a completely different connotation. She’d have a little pizza party all set up for you, and she’d buy a big bag of your favorite candy, in case you didn’t get enough during your door-to-door quests. And she’d always let you watch whatever spooky movie your heart desired, regardless of your parents’ rules.

“That’s what grandmas are for,” she’d said with a wink, and the two of you curled up to watch Little Shop of Horrors. Her demeanor matched the hokey magnet on her fridge that read, If I knew how fun my grandkids would be, I would’ve had them first. You’d stay like that until you both fell asleep, only being roused by your parents arriving to pick you up. The good old days, before Grandma waking up involved watching the confusion in her eyes as she tried and failed to place you.

“C-Can I help you with something?” Your guard goes up immediately when you notice that Harris isn’t with him. The time you’d spent together after school yesterday had been nice, fun, even, but you couldn’t trust that today would be the same. Not after what happened a few short weeks ago.

“I, um…I just swung by to give you this.” He reaches into the inner pocket of his denim jacket; it’s the same one that he lent to Harris when he’d forgotten his at home. A flash of yellow paper catches your eye, and he unfurls his palm to reveal a small bag of peanut M&Ms. “You said they were one of your favorites, right?”

You look at the treat, not willing to reach out and grab it. What if it’s a joke? An elaborate ploy to reel you in, just to shout “gotcha” when you finally let your walls come down?

“Are they poisoned or something?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you spike them with Ex-Lax?”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise before he collects himself. “Guess I deserve that,” he mumbles. “But, no. They’re not. I swear on James Hetfield’s life.” He drags his fingernail over his heart in an X-formation.

You take the bag, inspecting it for any sign of tampering, but you come up short. The edges are sealed, and there are no pinpricks as far as your eyes can see. “Dipped into Harris’s stash for me?”

“Hey, these bad boys are technically mine for the taking until he figures out that he can eat them without dying.” Eddie chuckles lightly, peering at you through impossibly long lashes. “But, yeah, I was hoping you’d accept these as part of my apology. Or apologies, I guess. For, uh, for not calling when I said I would, and all of the awful shi—awful things I said to you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he steps closer and says, “I am so fucking sorry.”

You make a small tear in the bag, tapping it against your palm until an M&M falls out. Popping the blue candy in your mouth, you allow the shell to start dissolving on your tongue before crunching on the peanut, hoping you can process what he’s said by the time you’re finished chewing.

This is what you’ve been waiting for—an actual heartfelt apology. His brown eyes reflect nothing but shame and remorse, and you can tell by the way that he’s fidgeting with his rings that he’s anxiously awaiting your reply.

His vulnerability softens you slightly, and considering you haven’t keeled over after ingesting the candy, you throw him a bone.

“This fun size bag covers the ‘not calling’ part, but I’m gonna need a lot more candy if you want me to forgive you for what you said at the music store.” You keep your tone light; teasing, even, but there’s a layer of truth to it. He can’t merely waltz into your classroom with a gift and expect you to forget his hurtful words.

Eddie nods, his frizzy curls brushing the tops of his denim-clas shoulders. “I know. I’ve said some pretty terrible things in my life, but that might’ve been the worst. And, um,” he fumbles his words, desperately searching for the right ones. Semantics has never been his forte. “You didn’t deserve that. It’s not true; your grandma didn’t want to forget you. And…neither do I.” When you raise your eyebrows, he starts to backtrack. “Because you’re so great with Harris; like, you understand him and stuff. He’s always talking about you.”

Daddy, do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty? The question replays like a song he can’t shake from his head, its melody familiar but the notes still keeping him on edge. Pretty like a princess, only instead of saving her, I’m the one who needs to be rescued. So much for Prince Charming, huh?

The M&M melts in your mouth while you formulate a response to his candid admission. Sweetness seeps into your taste buds as you try to straddle the line between careful consideration and overthinking. Speak too quickly and you might say something you’ll regret. Take too long and you’ll make this even more awkward.

“W-Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Short, simple, to the point. Your words are slightly slurred by the candy obstruction, but what else is there to say? You could add that you forgive him, but you’re truthfully not sure that you do. His words scarred, had taken your already mangled self-worth and snapped it into pieces, and so did his reasoning for hurting you. Despite the love and kindness you’d shown his son, Eddie had fully believed that you were responsible for spreading personal information that would wound him. It was exactly as Jeff had said: Eddie struck below the belt at the first sign of conflict, so determined to protect himself that he didn’t even realize that he was attacking the people on his side.

The sound of books clattering to the floor snatches your attention from him, and you whip your head to your little classroom library to see two kids standing over a pile of fallen books, guilty looks stamped on their faces. “I’ve gotta go,” you blurt out, dashing off to assess the damage. You’ve never been so grateful for your students causing mischief.

The hour hand crawls to the number two; at one point, you swore the clock was moving backwards. The chaos of the morning was only a preview of the rest of the day’s fiascos, but you and Will had navigated as best as you could.

“Jesus,” he murmurs once the kids have all been dismissed, gingerly rubbing his temples, “that was brutal. I can handle the day after Halloween; I can handle Fridays, but when they coincide? Nope, never again.” He slumps into a chair dramatically, letting his arms drape over the sides.

“Gonna have a glass of wine when you get home?” you joke, wiping Play-Doh residue from a tabletop.

Will nods. “Or a whole bottle.” His focus shifts to your desk, and he nods his chin in that direction. “I see you have something to look forward to tonight, too.”

You follow his gaze, widening your eyes when you see the object he’s referring to. A bag of peanut M&Ms–much bigger than the one you’d inhaled this morning–sits on top of your desk calendar; resting next to it is a cassette. You walk over, curiosity getting the better of you. The cassette is Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite for Destruction; you recognize the iconic cover as soon as it comes into view. It’s not your usual music choice, but you’ll listen to almost anything.

There’s a piece of paper taped to the giant yellow M&M bag, folded in equal triads. Messily scrawled across the front in black ink is Ms. Sweetheart. You gently pull the adhesive loose and open the letter, nervously running your forefinger across the irregular edge where it was obviously torn from a composition notebook.

Fun size mistake=fun size bag of candy

Family size mistake=family size bag of candy

I’m really good at fucking things up, but really bad at fixing them. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that I did.

You don’t have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am.

-Eddie

P.S. Not sure if hard rock is your thing, but I saw this at work and it reminded me of the kindness you showed our favorite little Axl Rose yesterday.

“Who’s it from?” Will asks, breaking into your thoughts. “A secret admirer?” He brings his clasped hands to his cheek in mock dreaminess.

You manage a laugh as you fold the note back up and tuck it under the calendar. “If it is, he’s really bad at it, because he signed his name.” When did he even sneak in here to do this? Kind of scary that someone could walk in and you didn’t even notice.

“Aha! So it is a guy!” Will pumps his fist triumphantly, though you’re not quite sure what he thinks he’s won.

“Just Eddie Munson, thanking us for letting Harris draw here yesterday.”

It’s not a total lie, but Will sees right through it. “Uh-huh. Thanking us? So that note is also for me? Can I read it?” He starts towards your desk, outstretched hand reaching towards where you’d tried to hide it, but you playfully swat them away.

You glance at the clock and frown. “If you leave a little early, I won’t tell anyone.”

Will flips you off; over the last two months, you two had developed a sibling-esque relationship that came out more once the kids had left for the day. He grabs his backpack from the supply closet and slings it over his shoulders. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted, or I’d stick around and keep bothering you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, knowing full well that he’s itching to leave regardless. “Gotta save up your energy for when Marshall visits.”

Will blushes at the mention of his long-distance boyfriend’s name. He still wasn’t out to many people, but when you’d casually mentioned the date Jess had with a girl named Robin, he’d felt comfortable opening up to you. “I can’t wait!” His grin is so wide you swear it’ll stretch right off of his face. “Thanks again; you’re the best.”

That leaves you alone with your gigantic bag of candy, a Guns N’ Roses cassette, and an apology that you have no idea what to do with.

Once again, Eddie Munson has given you more questions than answers.

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oval3000 · 5 months

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Chapter 4

Yandere Teacher Nanami x Student Reader

Warning: Abuse, smut. Abduction, violence, rough play, toxic behavior, age gap, everything from all above. Mainly from his point of view...somewhat... modern au- ish idk. College teacher x student.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

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

Soft music was playing in the background as he spread the condiments onto the fresh, crispy, bread. He felt his body feeling the rhythm of the sweet melody that was playing at the record player. He placed the rest of the ingredients, placing the finished sandwiches onto a white plate. He placed the plates on the other side of the small kitchen table that was in the corner of the room. Don't worry though, there's a dining room so you and him can have family dinner nights with your many future children. He opened the fridge and got out the glass pitcher of orange juice as well as two glass cups that were on the cupboard. He placed the cups on the side of the plate and poured the freshly squeezed orange juice into the clear, glass cups.

He went over to the living room where the record player was sitting perfectly in a cubical section of the large bookshelf that was against the wall, moving the needle off the vinyl record. He walked up the staircase, and he could hear you ruffling around on the bed. He wasn't concerned about your movements around the bed, the rope wasn't long enough for you to leave the premises. He opened the door and saw how you immediately stopped and curled yourself into a ball. He walked closer to you which made you squeamish. He took your wrist and quickly untied the rope. "please don't hurt me." Nanami didn't reply, he pulled your body off the bed to make you land on your feet.

He still had a strong grip on your arms and body that made you unable to run off. He led you to the kitchen where the kitchen table was. He sat you down on the chair and pointed at the food, "Your lunch is ready." He walked over to his seat and sat down.

You couldn't move out of your seat, not because you weren't able to, but because you were a bit too scared. To be quite fair, even if you did get up and make a run for it, he could easily catch you since your back was facing the wall. Nanami kept you caged in. You saw that he was already half done with his sandwich, taking a few sips of his juice. "Are you gonna hurt me?" He looked up at you, chewing the piece of sandwich in his mouth, still not saying anything. You gently picked up your sandwich, taking a small bite from it chewing and swallowing it quickly. "A-are you going to kill me?" He took another sip of his orange juice to wash down the food. He was about to take another bite of his lunch when he heard you say, "Why am I here?" you felt shivers going down your body with the way he stared at you. He was your teacher. Someone who helped you when you were having difficulty understanding an assignment. He was someone that you should've trusted right? Someone whom you so foolishly trusted. Now you're in a place where he keeps you tied up to a bed. You know it's only been two days since you have been here, but you know you'll soon lose track depending on how long you might be here. You don't know exactly why you are here. You kept asking him but all he replied with was "This is your new home." When you ask about your safety, he replies with "I'm not gonna hurt you." however, should you really trust someone who is keeping you captive. It still doesn't answer your questions.

Before he could take another bite he reassures you with, "If I was going to kill you then I would've done it already. Eat your lunch."

You did just that. You don't know if your teacher was a serial killer all along who is psychotic and tortures his victims. You don't know if you are ever going to see the light of day ever again. Just the thought of it made your tears start flowing. You didn't want to cry. You wanted to stay strong. Just not knowing and being kept in the dark, scares you. You covered your mouth trying to conceal the low sob you couldn't keep in. Nanami got up from his seat and went towards you. "I'm-I'm..sorry," you cried out. He kneeled down to your level placing his right hand on your back while his other hand grabbed your cheek and made you turn to him. You uncovered your mouth taking deep breaths to calm yourself.

He wiped away the tears with his thumb, "I'm not going to hurt you. That's the last thing I want to do." He leaned closer to you, "You're beautiful and perfect. You are perfect for me."

Your heart felt like it stopped. You felt like an elephant was sitting on your chest. Everything wasn't clear for you to listen to, for you to see. You felt your head feeling light. "You're gonna.....ra......rap-"

You didn't finish the sentence when you saw his head turn away in a sharp turn and heard his low scoff. "That's what you think of me?" He straightened himself up making a hard fist. "I would never do that to you. Not like that at least. I want our first time to be special. "He sat back to his seat. He sighed, rolling his eyes, "If you don't want me to hurt you then don't give me a reason. And just to let you know, escaping is one of them, not listening to me is another. Now finish your food."

You took more deep breaths before continuing to eat the sandwich he prepared for you. Once you were finished, he took you back to the bedroom and tied you up again. He fixed his tie and hair, putting on his specs. "I'm going back to work." He checked his watch and raised an eyebrow, "Might be 10 minutes late before my next class. I'll be back for dinner. What do you want so I can pick it up."

You sat there with your knees to your chest. 'What do you want?' as if it was a nothing question. 'Dinner?' the second time you spend dinner time with him. "uh....mm...pa-pasta?"

"Pasta?" He looked at you as you nodded. "Okay. Pasta it is."

He walked out of the room closing the door and that was the end of that. He doesn't tell you anything else like your friends or relatives. He still doesn't let you roam around the house freely, which wasn't shocking. So you just sat there for hours waiting for him to come home. Even though he keeps tied up, he's the only other human interaction that you get. Still not knowing what's going to happen to him. Human isolation might just drive a person crazy. You could ask for something so you wouldn't be so bored. Maybe some books, or a sketchbook, maybe he could let you watch some TV or give you some puzzle games so at least your mind is being occupied.

You aren't sure if your family is even looking for you or if anyone even noticed you have gone missing. Were they ever going to find you? Are you ever going to leave this place? Is this where you're going to live for the rest of your life? Is your teacher a complete psychopath who kills people? Are you his next victim? Or what he says is true? Is he not going to hurt you? Only time will tell for you. Of course for Nanami, he knows your fate. So, yes you're going to live here for the rest of your life. As for the rest of the questions; who knows?"

You reached over the nightstand by your side and opened the little drawer only to find nothing. You opened it before, you guess you kinda hoped that there was something there for you to do. The light bulb of the fan ceiling was shining throughout the room. The barricaded window prohibited light from going through, so you aren't sure if it's cloudy or sunny. The only thing you can tell time is the clock on top of the dresser and Nanami's work schedule. You know Monday, Tuesday, and Friday, he has four classes, and on Wednesday, and Thursday, he would only have three classes to teach. On the days he would have four classes, his first class would start at 8:00 am. His second one was in fact the 10:00 am class, the same class you were in. His third class would be at 1:00pm and his last class would be at 5:00pm. He would come home at 6:30. The days he would have three classes, his first class would also start at 8:00am. His second class would start at 10:30 am. His last class would start at 2:00pm. However, he would come home at 5:00pm due to him staying a bit late so he could help students who might need help. He has mentioned to you that he might just come home after his last class since no one comes in so you don't have to be alone all day.

He also mentioned how he will change his class time the next semester so he could come home early to you. Nanami being the only person that you could listen to and talk to makes him the only source of entertainment for you, so knowing all this makes sense for you.

You lay down on the bed closed your eyes, covering your face with the blanket to shield you from the bright light. You didn't know how long you'd been asleep, but it was long enough that you heard the door open and close.

You could hear his footsteps you could hear that he had come home already. He opened the door and went to untie you. He. once again, lifted you up by grabbing the side of your arms and pulling you off the bed. He pretty much dragged you to the kitchen, either way, it's not like you have any freedom to move wherever you feel like it. He sat you back down on the chair from the square, light brown, kitchen table. He moved the bowl, that had pasta, closer to you. He went over to grab two clear, glass cups and poured ice and cold water. He gave you the black plastic fork that came with the food while he had the silverware.

You didn't ask any more questions. You didn't hesitate to eat the food. You simply sat there and had dinner with your teacher; with the person who is keeping you captive in a nice, cozy home.

He poured himself some wine into his wine glass, taking a sip. "I missed you today. During class when you weren't there" That's right, it's Friday, you were supposed to be in his class today. You were supposed to be in school today before lunch. 'If it was high school, would it notify anyone that you weren't there' you thought. "But then I realized that I have you here, so really I get excited to come here." He took a bite from his food, swallowing it. "I'll eventually have family pictures of us on my desk or wallet so I can stare at them. You know and have a family portrait of us and our kids."

kids? He wants to have kids with you. You placed your hand on your tummy, trying to really process what had said. You never thought about having kids, you're too young. You still have a life to accomplish, having kids was not on your mind. He wants to have kids with you. That changes everything. Does he want kids now? You'll have to go through painful childbirth. You'll have to put your body through something that you hear horror stories about from other women who experienced it.

"Of course, we'll have kids when you're ready. When we're ready. I don't want to have kids now when my schedule isn't exactly consistent, but once I change that then we can try. Once you're ready then we can try to have multiple children." He continued eating his food so nonchalantly. " I want to have four kids in total. I always wanted a sibling growing up and I think it'll be nice for our kids to have siblings as well. I won't rush you to give birth to all four quickly. Childbirth can be hard especially for someone to recover." He picked up the last few pieces of pasta with his fork, " finish your food so I can give you a bath."

Bath? you're gonna be naked and he's going to bathe you. You finished your last bite, drinking the cold water. He's going to give you a bath? Is he going to ask you to strip? Or is he going to strip you himself? He did say that he won't force anything on you, so you shouldn't have to worry right?

He got up and dragged you back to the bedroom upstairs. He shut the door and went to the bathroom while he held your wrists together. He towards the tub and turned it on. You felt your heart rate going up. You felt nervous. "I can bathe myself." you huffed out.

He looked back at you, "I know you can." He checked the temp of the water, letting the water fill up the bathtub. He stood in front of you holding to your waist, keeping you still for a moment. He reached over and started to pull down your shorts. You felt the shorts falling and landing on your feet. Your eyes widened and your breath began to be uncontrollable. He reached to the bottom of your top and started to pull them up, but you quickly crossed your arms making him stop. "I can do it myself. I can bathe myself." He stopped and then released your top from his fingertips. He moved to the side walking to be behind you. You felt his chest on your back, "Please I can do it. I'll feel a lot better if I do it. Please, Nanami."

"Say 'Kento'" He whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Kento." You said back to him.

"From now on call me Kento. It's my first name." He said, taking a few steps back. He leaned back on the bathroom door. "Now strip."

"I don't need someone to watch me." You turned your head to look at him as he crossed his arms staring back at you.

"No, sweetheart. You can bathe yourself, but I'm not leaving you alone. So either strip and bathe yourself while I stand here and watch or I go and do it myself."

You turned your head back around and started to lift your top off. You went down and pulled your panties off. The thought of how he can see your bare ass made you feel weird. You went on and unhooked your bra. You let the bra strands fall down from your shoulders. You quickly slid in your one hand over your breast to cover them. You were completely naked in front of Nanami. He could feel his crotch area getting tight and hard. This was torture for him. It was torture for you. You carefully took a step inside the tub with lukewarm water, getting more comfortable. You eventually sat down in the middle of the bathtub. Your back still turned to him. Even though you barely had any room to move around, you tried your best not to turn around. Nanami's eyes wandered else in the bathroom to calm his area down. You quickly washed your hair with the nice scented shampoo and washed your body with the body wash cloth.

When all the soap left your body you knew it was time to get out. "I'm done, Kento."

Nanami turned his gaze back to you. He pulled the towel from the hook that was installed on the bathroom wall. He walked up to you with the towel extended to his arm's length." Get up."

When you stood up, you felt his arm embrace around you covering you with the soft, dry towel. You got out of the tub, feeling the towel land on your wet legs. He dragged you back to the room where he pointed to the folded clothes that were resting on top of the little stool in front of the armrest chair, "Change into your pajamas." You felt his grip letting go. You quickly dried yourself with the towel he gave you before putting on the set of pajamas and undergarments. When you finished you finally turned to him and faced him. He moved to the side to reveal the white vanity. " There is a hair blow dryer for you to use." You sat down on the chair that matched the vanity and grabbed the blowdryer that was being plugged in by Nanami. Mist while you were drying your hair, you could hear Nanami's belt buckle drop on the floor. You knew that he was stripping behind you. He removed his tie and started to unbutton his blue dress shirt. You looked at the mirror in front of you and saw Nanami exposed. You saw all of his muscles clearly. You already knew that he was fit so seeing his muscles was something else. He went and put on some grey sweatpants and waited for you to finish drying your hair.

When you finished, you got up from the chair as Nanami took your hand and placed you back on the bed. He tied your hands and pulled the blankets over you and him. You lay on your side as you felt his arm wrapping around your torso, pulling you closer to him.

You could tell that he had already fallen asleep. It took a while for you to do so as well. Your mind kept wondering about all those questions you had.

Are you ever leaving here?

His strong hand kept you in tight.

Is this your new life?

His chin rested on top of your head.

Did you regret walking to his class that day?

You could hear his light snores.

You're never leaving.

This is your new life.

Just accept it already.

@black-swan-blog27

@zeniiis

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cafeinthemoon · 2 months

Text

Ruins - Part XXII

Chapter 22/?

Wordcount 4,1k

Title Part XXII

Fandom Shummatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16 . 17 . 18 . 19 . 20 . 21

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: Mentions of nudity, undressing; non explicit sex

Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko @shirayuki-ayumi @telvess @alecfromsaturn (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: I don't even know what to say after so long, except that I'm happy to finally come back and put this chapter out 😭🙏 I've been thinking of it for ages and questioning myself whether I'd be able to give these two a proper honeymoon or not, but this is an issue that haunts me every time I sit to write a honeymoon/intimate scene. The potion stuff was something I wanted to include back in the wedding chapter, but it's end up too long so I abandoned the idea. Now I had the chance to use it, and to try to bring some comedy vibes to soothe things a bit 😅

Anyways, hope you have fun! Missed you all 💜🥰

For you were too tired to stay awake after your brother-in-law left, you never saw the moment your husband came back to the private sections of your chambers, as much as when the rays of sunshine first entered the room. When you opened your eyes, the ceiling and the walls were already touched by the warm light, and the people in the tapestry over your head were as joyful as ever.

You tried to move the sheets from upon you and found out you could do it with no problems. You looked around and sensed the room was too quiet. You were also alone in the bed.

You frowned.

Where did he go?

You took a deep breath and, after some effort, you sat on the bed. You felt a strange, but complete relief with that gesture: your strength came back to you, there were no shivers spreading through your skin and no fear making your heart heavy. Was the transformation finished? You couldn’t believe it’d happen so fast, but maybe the hardest part of the process was over and you’d be able to carry on with your activities while it came to its end. Whatever the case, you were content to see you were yourself again.

You left the bed and headed to the bathroom. You closed the door, turned on the lights around the mirror to wash your face… and were static with what you saw there.

It was still you in the reflection, the same eyes, nose, lips and all, but at the same time it wasn’t. You saw a refreshed, cleaner version of you, with an inhuman glow in the lilac of your eyes and a flawless skin to cover each spot. Yes, you were sure it was still you, but more beautiful, more gracious, even without a layer of makeup and a disheveled hair to frame your expression.

So… this is how being a goddess feels like.

You smiled to yourself.

It’s not that bad.

You brushed your hair (which, understandably, took you more time than you were used) and finished your personal care session without taking your eyes off the mirror. You were a bit ashamed for being so vain, but after all the agonizing hours you had to endure to reach those looks, you couldn’t deny yourself such contentment.

You left the bathroom and searched for your robe. You found it on the same chair Hades left his own the night before. You dressed it and looked around, still finding his absence strange. It was when a soft, rhythmic sound reached your ears – his voice, brought by the breeze entering through the balcony, came to you in the form of a song, but you couldn’t recognize the words at first; you frowned and listened for a while, until you realized he was singing in Ancient Greek.

You smiled. You’ve already heard him sing before, but it was never that sweet. From what you’ve learned during his lessons, you were able to understand some verses, which, in the modern language, was something like this:

Under the red skies

Of the first day of Winter

I saw you

Your tiny feet running upon the ruins

Of the Temple of Love

Where after your touch

White flowers would grow

Would you mind

If I took you away with me?

Would you mind

If I hid you away?

As we built our secret place

Out of your flowers

And out of my song...

You followed his voice to the outside and found him sitting on the small table at the balcony, having a filled cup in front of him. He seemed relaxed, in peace with himself like you’ve never seen him before, especially when you remembered the events of the previous night, with his legs crossed and his eyes lost in the landscape.

You sighed at the scene.

Like a King who has his domains assured.

Change came when you took the first step toward him: the ecstatic glow in his eyes appeared and expanded as he turned to you, swallowing your whole form; he raised an unconscious hand and you accepted it, letting him take you to his lap.

You touched his cheek.

– Hi.

– Hi – Hades took your hand on his and led it to his lips – Young goddess.

A heat came up to your face when you heard that treatment. As much as it was flattering, you couldn’t shake the sensation that you were meeting him as if you were a different person now, and it still too soon to know if you enjoyed it. But you wouldn’t ruin the moment with sad deliberations, so you quickly redirected the conversation through sweeter paths.

– Were you singing about a young goddess as well?

– Yes – he curled a strand of your hair between his fingers – One that would touch the ruins of a dark world with her pretty feet, with the sweetness of a damsel and the courage of a warrior.

– And does she reach her fate with such sweetness and courage?

– Her fate, and much more – he approached and kissed your forehead.

You giggled and turned to the table, taking an empty cup and filling it with the same liquid as his cup, which consistence reminded you of milk, but with the color of caramel.

– What song was that? – you put the recipient of the caramel back on the table and grabbed your little cup – You never sang it before.

– It’s a love song in Ancient Greek. The author is unknown, but it was popular among travelers – Hades explained – It’s much longer than this, but this is my favorite part.

– We should learn the complete lyrics, then – you turned to him with tenderness – Then we will sing the whole song together.

– And we can do that during our travels.

– An excellent idea.

The rest of the breakfast went in silence, but after it you two went to the garden at the upper floor. You were were able to walk through it and that made you happy, still Hades didn’t let go of your arm until you decided to sit on a bench. There were some small trees around it, and you saw butterflies and birds sharing their branches peacefully; a couple of birds arrived, persecuting each other, then leaving as fast as they came, their wings making a rustling noise between the leaves, their little voices at their peak. You laughed at this, which reminded Hades of something.

– So how are your ears going? – he brushed your hair behind the left one – You’ve been complaining about the nature noises.

– They’re getting better. I mean, I don’t think I’d stand a lion’s roar right now, but the birds are completely bearable – you smiled.

– That’s good to hear.

You took some time to silently appreciate your surroundings as they displayed what would be a pleasing Spring morning in Midgard. You thought of this for a moment: the plants, the creatures and that whole environment were those of from Midgard, just everything you saw along your stay in the areas reserved to humans in those blessed lands – and all of them were designed by your husband. You felt your respect and admiration for him grow the same way it did when you took your first walk in the Gardens, when you ate pomegranates.

– You thought of all of this before we got married – you said suddenly; and, turning to him, – You thought of everything.

Hades replied with the same modest smile he gave you when you asked if he was there during the planting of the pomegranate tree.

– I wouldn’t say that. I’d say I’ve work with every necessary resource and with the best people I could find, so everything you’ve seen around would have the power of bringing smiles to the young humans’ faces – he raised his fingers to brush your hair – And, as a payment for all this work, yours will be forever on my sight.

Your smile widened at those words before you could notice. You were really content that, more than wishing to see your smile often, he was also creating reasons for you to show it: not so long after that conversation, he took you to take a walk through the depths of the garden, where exotic plants were hidden, and you spent the next hour talking about them and planning how to include your creations at the Greenhouse in the collection.

When you finally went back to the chambers’ interior, you decided you wanted to spend some time in bed, for your legs were a bit heavy. Meanwhile, Hades went to the kitchen to prepare tea. When he came back, you brought out a subject that has been on your mind for days: the travel to Hellheim.

– I’ve been worried about this for a while, but haven’t had the chance to speak until now – you said while accepting a cup of tea from his hands – Is it too long? Is it a difficult path, or an easy one? How does it look like?

He sat by your side with his own tea.

– It’s certainly a long way, especially for the ones who aren’t used to it – and, smiling at your widened eyes, – But I’m not saying this to discourage you, given that the travels between this realm and that one are far from tedious.

You turned on your side to hear more. Now you were completely interested.

– Really? And what kind of things we find through it?

Your husband started describing those strange lands as if narrating an epic story, going from dark skies, menacing rocks, abysses and terrifying natural phenomenons to powerful creatures, brave, minor deities occupied with their work and suspicious wanderers. You learned to love his ability of explaining concepts and depicting scenarios in a way that the images formed in your mind as vivid as if you were inside them; in that particular case, you also appreciated his power of calming your fears, assuring you that the travel was safe despite the things you were going to find.

After the tea, you told him you were sleepy, even though you’ve slept the entire night.

– I’m sorry for this, because I wanted to spend this day out with you – you told him, giving him back the cup – But I’m too tired, though I did nothing that justifies this tiredness.

– This isn’t but expected, little one – he replied before taking the cups to the kitchen – The transformation isn’t complete yet, and it takes an enormous amount of vital energy. You’ll still need some time to regain it, and an even longer period to manage it when your powers start manifesting.

– I see – you slowly laid down on your pillow, feeling both the sleep and the weight of your future responsibilities pulling you to it.

As if sensing your anxiety, Hades offered you some solace.

– But for now you don’t have to think too much about these things – he walked to the kitchen’s door – Th time to take care of them is yet to come.

You accepted those words and closed your eyes, letting the sleep take over your body, which didn’t take long that time.

***

You thought you were going to feel better the next day, and you weren’t entirely wrong in your expectations, but you in fact needed at least three or four days to feel able to walk, stand and do any other activity without a subsequent fatigue, neither the need of sleeping in the middle of the day. During that period, you were visited by Aesclepius twice, and he was content with your progress, something that made both you and Hades relieved: now, as he explained, your body’s tendency would be gathering energy instead of spending it, so that soon you would be as physically and mentally capable as any other god, and the travel to Hellheim wouldn’t be a problem.

On the other hand, Hades, having diligence as his second name, didn’t stay idle: while you recovered, he divided his time in taking care of you, solving small matters with his brother Zeus, checking on your family through Hermes, talking to Aesclepius about your condition and organizing your travel to the Underworld; he exchanged messages with Adamas at least once in a day, to make sure everything was alright in his domains. You, on your part, spent your time alternating between resting and being worried, despite his advice: at the same time you wanted to tell him to take some rest – after all, it was his honeymoon – you couldn’t do much to help him in this sense, neither in any other.

I’ve been increasing his burden since the beginning. He will deny it if I speak to him about it, but I know I’m not helping in anything; even my preoccupation might become an issue. I can’t wait for this to end.

That was why you received the first sign of a complete recovery with great contentment. You noticed it right after you left the bed that day and, taking a chance when your husband wasn’t in the chambers, you went to the arc where you kept your gifts from the ceremony. You’ve searched inside it with nervous hands and took a small bottle from it.

Your cheeks heated up at the sight of the object, its delicate shape involving a rosy potion which perfume was described as having “its own soul, so once it is used, it will always be recognizable by the ones who first sensed it”.

The gift of Aphrodite-sama. I’ve been so curious about its effects, but her explanations were so mysterious, and I was too ashamed to ask enough questions.

You still remembered how she took the chance to approach you while Hades wasn’t around. She passed by your side and stopped before you with such grace, yet so suddenly that you couldn’t help startling.

She giggled, enjoying your reaction.

– You were already a beauty, dear Y/n, but now – the goddess brushed your hair and cupped your face with tenderness – Now you’re the perfect being…

Aphrodite spent a moment in silence, just appreciating what she had in front of her. Then, as suddenly as her arrival, she moved her hands away and took a small object from inside her dress: a bottle that reminded you of the ones in which people sold expensive fragrances in Midgard, filled with some glistening fluid.

She put it in your hands and warned you to not let your husband see it before you had the opportunity to use it.

– Just one drop or two in the sheets, right before you lie down, must be enough – and, surrounding her mouth with her hands, as to whisper a secret – But it wouldn’t be bad if you used a few more.

You stared at the bottle, barely reaching the size of your palm, thinking of those words.

– Aphrodite-sama, I’m very thankful for your gift – you raised your eyes to her – But I’m a bit confused about it. Is it some sort of remedy, or blessing?

She observed you with a mixture of condescension and diversion.

– Most of the times, if used wisely, it will be a blessing, but in other times it will be a powerful remedy – she blinked her right eye.

It was when finally started to understand.

– Oh, this is a love potion, my Lady – you smiled, then frowned – But Hades and I… We’re already in love with each other…

The Goddess of Love laughed.

– I know, my dear. But the purpose of this potion is not making you fall in love… – and lowering her tone – But falling harder.

She approached you one last time and, with a kiss on your forehead, she left you with the potion and a lot of things to think about.

And now you were there, alone with her gift for the second time, and wondering if that was the moment to use it.

I’m torn between the fear of the effects and the curiosity about them.

After minutes of painful deliberation, you decided to open it and smell its perfume… which filled both your nostrils and your soul, drowning you in a wave of powerful sensations: your feelings, thoughts and memories about Hades were all stirred and turned into one, expanding until you had the urge to pour it out; your eyes were filled with tears, and your breath became difficult as your chest would go up and down in ache as you craved his presence. Even as a young goddess, you could tell that the substance held a terrific power.

Now I understand why she told me to use just a few drops.

You adjusted the sheets upon the bed and knelt over them, stretching for the potion to be poured in the center. You slowly turned the bottle to the side, in your best efforts to control your trembling hand, and observed as the first drop fell on the fabric, disappearing so fast that it was hard to tell it has ever been there. More drops followed it in other spots and over the pillows…

When the sudden crack of the room’s door opening made you scream and drop the bottle on the bed, turning the next drops into a whole puddle.

You sat on the sheets, hiding the bottle behind you as you had a confused Hades standing at the door, staring at you without understanding why his arrival got you so scared.

– Is there something wrong, little one? You look a bit nervous.

You were quick to deny it.

– No… No, of course not! I’m perfectly fine! – you shook your hands around yourself as to reaffirm what you were saying – It’s just the noise of these hinges! I can’t get used to it…

With your face on fire, you fell silent after that, praying that your husband would just accept the explanation and change the subject… but, unfortunately, your pairs weren’t willing to grant you this small wish: Hades closed the door behind him and approached the bed, suspicion filling each of his gestures. At the same time, the perfume made its presence stronger than never as the bottle’s whole content leaked to the sheets on your back, turning any attempt of keeping it a secret unnecessary.

– Y/n, what is it? – he looked around the bed – Are you spreading perfume on the sheets?

You shrugged.

– Ah… Sort of.

– What kind of perfume? – he raised an eyebrow – This one seems to possess some sort of spell. Is it one of your wedding gifts?

You shook your head in a positive gesture and slowly brought the bottle to your front, giving it to him with a shy hand.

Once his eyes laid on the object, Hades turned to you with a strange expression, one that you haven’t seen before, and about which you weren’t sure how to feel; your fingers gripped on the sheets: that was the first time you didn’t know what to expect from him.

But you didn’t need to wait too long to figure that out.

You observed as he held the bottle with an attentive gaze, a smile started forming on his lips: he already recognized the nature of the potion. However, it wasn’t shyness or shame that took over your feelings with the understanding: around him and around yourself, you sensed a quiet, yet steady change that grew as the smell spread through the room; you had the sensation that your sight turned a bit blurry, except for your husband’s figure, and that everything was somewhat covered with a rosy light that reminded you of the liquid’s shade. Maybe Hades was under the same impression, for he stood still, staring at you with a glimmer of hunger in his eyes that scared and interested you at the same time. The temperature seemed to elevate in the surroundings even though the balcony’s door was wide open, so you started taking off your robe and moving your hair away from you neck.

The first words said between you after this were his.

– So… Our friend Aphrodite has her own gift for us – he made this observation with a vague, low voice – So clever of her to handle it to you while I was away…

Without taking his eyes off you, he dropped the bottle on the carpet. You didn’t know if it was anger or diversion you sensed in his tone, so you rushed to justify yourself.

– I really wanted to tell you about it, but I couldn’t disobey her instructions – your voice sounded lower than you remembered it, but you kept going – It’s just that, now that I’m recovered… I wanted to do something special… – the air swirled and heated up around you; the left strap of your gown slipped to the side, but you didn’t mind adjusting it – I wanted to have a proper honeymoon…

And that was the instant that changed everything.

Once those words escaped your lips, the blurry wave of sensations poured out of you at last, reaching for your lover and tangling with his own feelings, pulling him ahead, straight to you: without wasting time, Hades got rid of his coat and shoes, throwing himself over the bed as if afraid that you would disappear if he lingered in his place. You were a bit scared by this new impulsivity, but you wouldn’t push him away: the heat that has been increasing since you first smelled the potion, pulsating all over your body, only calmed own when your husband wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his lap, your legs spreading and burying in the sheets on each side, his mouth reaching for yours as you helped him take off his blouse with your little hands.

You moved away for a moment to see the results of your work, and the vision left you marveled: yes, you’ve already seen him undressed once, when he stood with you during the worst point of your fever, but you barely gave his figure the attention it deserved; now, with your strength restored and your sight in perfect conditions, you wouldn’t make the same mistake: from his face, your hands slipped over his skin, across his neck and over his chest, your thumbs drawing circles around his nipples; you smiled when a sigh left his lips. You noticed the vine he had tattooed on his left arm, the same pattern of the one on his forehead.

He is perfect.

– You’re so beautiful… – you murmured to him, your fingers brushing over the tattoo – I’m so sorry for making you wait... I promise I’ll make up for it…

You felt his hands going to your hips and tightening around them, bringing you closer. Your gown slipped, exposing your thighs as your knees were buried on the soft mattress.

– I’ll make sure you will – his lips brushed and smiled over yours – But for you, the wait is always worthy…

You felt his hands caressing your thighs, slipping under your gown and pulling it up. Your heart skipped a bit: that was going to be the first time you’d expose yourself for your husband, so that everything had to be in place: you were now a goddess with a well-built, flawless body, but were you feeling that beautiful now? Were you good enough to appear before him with only your skin to cover you?

Heavens, I’ve been waiting for this for so long, but who would say it’d be so scary?

Still, you didn’t stop him, and when the gown was finally taken off, every inch of yourself under his sight, you remembered the conversation you had weeks ago, in that balcony beside the room, and the confidence in it soothed your nervousness, as much as his hands exploring your figure: his right thumb caressed your lower lip, going down to your chin and your neck, where you noticed his hand was able to surround most of it; both his hands went through your shoulders, your collarbones and, finally, your breasts, where he his thumbs caressed you the same way you did to him. A loud moan escaped your mouth before you could stop yourself, and you put your hand over it, your cheeks burning with shame: apparently, erasing one’s shyness wasn’t among the properties of Aphrodite’s potion; Hades laughed, enjoying your spontaneity, and moved your hand away from your lips, putting it around is neck.

– So shy, aren’t we? – and, letting it clear that he had the same conversation in mind as well, – Let’s take care of this together…

He then suffocated any word or moan that might’ve come out from your mouth with a deep kiss, pulling you tighter against himself as your hands tangled in his hair.

#snv x reader #ror x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie hades #snv hades x reader #ror hades x reader #record of ragnarok hades #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader

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