VAGUE LEAK WARNING :( okay the tall ladies look the best and they look 😍, the only guy of the whole nation apparently is mixed for me his hair and face are perfection but im not in love with the clothes

Beyond Death

Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Death, Loss, Grief, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst

Summary: After fighting triumph over Lady Dimitrescu in her dragon/monster form, Ethan thinks he’ll have to face one last threat before leaving the castle but said threat happens to be nothing but a hollow ghost carrying a broken heart.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your wonderful and extremely heartbreaking request! So sorry that it’s taken me so long to write and post it but I still hope you’ll come across it and give it a read. If so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

It’s over. It’s finally fucking over.

Ethan Winters lets out a heavy but shaky sigh of relief that practically deflates him as though he had been holding it in - was holding it in during the entire duel against Lady Dimitrescu who is now nothing my an ashy corpse on the floor, leaving behind only a crystal sculpture to her name - the nine foot tall vampire lady that reigned over the village with a reputation stronger than the village’s actual ruler - Mother Miranda.

And now her and her daughters remain a memory - quite an unpleasant one - for the villagers, leaving one less Lord for them to fear yet remaining a figure they cower in fear just by thinking about her.

Pushing past the cloud of confusion, relief and disbelief, a soft sound that appears to be footsteps approaching reaches Ethan’s brain, kicking his heartbeat up and forcing him back into a fight-or-flight mindset. Of course he’s gonna choose fight, of course this fool is gonna see this all till the end.

But what if it’s not a fight the person approaching wants?

What if all they want is to have made it there a few minutes earlier?

What if they are no threat now and they never have been? What if that’s why the Dimitrescus kept them safe in the hidden chambers and quarters of their castle, places not even Alcina’s dear Miranda knew nothing about.

Y/N L/N Dimitrescu, Alcina’s one true love.

They were a neighbor of Alcina’s prior to the experimentation process. The two got along nicely - well, more than nicely. Pleasantly enough for Alcina to develop feelings for them along the way. Feelings that the pain and suffering of the experiments never managed to wipe away, ones that still resided with Alica even years later and only flared up stronger when Y/N recognized her on one of their ventures into the outskirts, near the Dimitrescu Castle.

“Alcina?“ They had said, their wide and confused eyes meeting the vampire’s terrified ones.

The typically fearless Lady Dimitrescu found herself at a loss of words, her throat dry, her stomach aching and her chest tight at the sight of the one last connection she has to humanity - her feelings for Y/N. But she was left on the fence, suffocated by the suspense of how Y/N would continue onward with the interaction. How they’d react to her drastic change? How they’d address her?

“Y/N...“ Their name was barely a shaky whisper on the tall woman’s lips, trembling hands clenched in tight fists to prevent from letting her emotions show.

“I missed you.“

That was what hit Alcina the strongest. That one single sentence had her assuming her true form - a pile of shard of the past, present and the many possible futures ahead. A pile of shards glued together with a weak glue threatening to give at any moment, collapsing the tough, graceful and untouchable façade of Alcina Dimitrescu. That’s how the woman knew she still had something human in her. Or rather with her as long as she had Y/N.

And so she kept them like a precious pearl in the palm of her hand and they never once neglected showing their gratitude for all she did for them. They never once hesitated to show their love and appreciation in return to all they received from her. But, the most important gift Alcina was keen on giving was the presence of her true self around Y/N. She never bothered with an act around them. Never lied, never put on a show. She was more human than ever around them. She was fragile, vulnerable, honest and bare before them. And they never made her feel any less than the feverous Lord she was despite her human side.

“It only makes you stronger.“ Y/N would say, referring to Alcina’s human side, “As a human myself, I can confirm we humans aren’t that bad and incompetent. Not all of us, at least. I remember you aren’t, that’s for sure.“

“Who are you?!“ Gun pointed at the pale figure moving barefoot across the room to crouch down next to the ashy corpse of Alcina Dimtrescu, Ethan can feel his blood starting to boil again. It’s not real fear but it’s most definitely a feeling of hostility fueled by massive adrenaline that seems to have taken complete control of him and has him in a death grip, leading him to do and say crap he normally wouldn’t. This behavior of his would be enough to get even Chris Redfield to take a step back but this person doesn’t seem to even acknowledge his presence let alone be intimidated by him.

Focusing their complete attention on the mess of crystals before them, they gently run their fingertips over the creature’s wing but sadly even their light touch manages to crumble a small bit of ash from it, the dust falling to the floor along with Y/N’s heart.

“Hey, answer me! Who the hell are you?! What are you doing here? Are you...are you like them? One of them?“ His voice becomes more and more uncertain, decreasing from an angry shout to a shaky whisper.

“You killed her. You took her from me.“ Is the response he eventually gets, spoken by a monotone flat voice that doesn’t go with Y/N’s appearance at all. Their eyes remain fixated on the tiny spot on the wing they touched seconds ago as if their gaze will bring it back to live.

Bring her back to them.

That on its own is enough to get Ethan to keep his mouth shut, gaining a vague idea of what’s going on here and who this person might be. What the deceased means to them. In his eyes, she was nothing but a monster, but in theirs, it’s obvious she was a lot more.

And so, when he approaches them and and tries to communicate with them one last time, he says and does the only thing he sees as even moderately right in this situation: he sets the crystal remains of Alcins Dimitrescu by their side. “Have this, I believe she’d want you to. It’s all that’s left of her that you can keep.“ He knows their face is emotionless and still but something about that stillness is the exact reason why he doesn’t want to look at them while he says those words. He can’t find it in himself to apologize, not that an apology would help him much in this situation anyway, so all he can attempt is pointless. All that matters to them is gone - that’s the price of him gaining a stronger chance at getting his daughter back before it’s too late. 

And just like that, without another word, the blonde man walks out of the castle, leaving the broken heart and soul that used to be a complete human being behind him. A complete human being in love with someone extraordinary. Their love for her knew no bounds, and not even death as they sit there by their lover’s remains, refusing to leave their side even when they are not both present in this world.

A lover’s true love and devotion is shown when tested - unfortunately, Y/N and Alcina’s love was faced with the ultimate test: death. And it hasn’t faltered, nor will it ever as it seems.

Moonlight Chapter Four: Take Two

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 4/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

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Chapter Five+ >>

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A week after the vampire killing, Miranda knew that she could put off her visit to the Ministry of Magic no longer. She approached the innocuous phone box and rode the elevator to the guest entrance, flexing her hands and fidgeting with her clothing as though everything itched her. She had been depressed and restless, particularly since Severus’s disappearance. If she were honest with herself, she knew it was probably for the best. The man’s jumpy behavior made her strongly suspect that he was wrapped up in something less than legal and she barely knew him. It wasn't her usual practice to fall into bed with complete strangers, but she knew it was most likely to happen when she was coming down from a case. The thrill of the hunt and the kill had to run its course. Sometimes she managed this in more virtuous ways—meditation, exercise, and the like. Sometimes she stayed awake for three or four days and the slept for the same amount of time. Sometimes she smoked and drank the feeling to oblivion. In her younger days, sometimes she would indulge in a one night stand; but they had usually been disappointing. After a few times of pretending that an inept lover was a Casanova, she’d mostly given up the practice. Men’s egos were so fragile and she had no patience for stroking them when they didn’t deserve it. Once, a long time ago, there had been a man worth the trouble and her throat tightened as his face appeared before her eyes.

The doors of the lift snapped open and Miranda shook her head to clear it. Now was really not the time to be thinking about such things. She knew there would be a mountain of paperwork waiting for her. She walked quickly past the fountain, her boots clicking on the marble floors. She was so intent on controlling herself and crossing the atrium, that she didn't notice a tall man dressed in black until she had knocked into him. For a brief, hopeful instant, she thought it might be Severus, back from the dead. But as she looked at the cold grey eyes and saw the long blond hair, she knew this man was not who she had hoped. "So sorry," she muttered and pushed past him. "I'm sure," he drawled lazily after her. Miranda's eyes were crossing as she finished and filed the final form. It seemed to her that the process became more complicated each time she followed it. She supposed it was worth it to some degree. If she had a good track record for following procedure, then the Ministry wouldn't see the need to prod into anything that didn't quite fit. That was her hope in any case. "Just a moment and I'll have your receipts for you," squeaked a short, balding wizard from behind the desk. She drummed her fingers impatiently on the counter, studying the wanted posters that decorated the walls. They all seemed to be of the same hollow-eyed wizard, one Sirius Black. The price on his head was high enough that her interest was piqued. Perhaps she'd do a bit of digging in a week or two and think about taking up the case. He'd been at liberty for quite some time, and with a Hippogriff too. That might make for an entertaining chase. "Thank you. Have a pleasant day," the bureaucrat finally said. "Same to you," she said, exhausted and thoroughly sick of being indoors. She had just reached the fountain in the atrium again when she noticed the same tall, blond wizard from earlier. He was striding towards her purposefully, followed by an older, white-haired man in a purple suit. The older man looked vaguely familiar and as they approached she realized the older man was Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. They were on a collision course with her and she stopped, standing out of their way with a slight frown. To her surprise, both men did indeed appear to want to talk to her. "Good afternoon, Minerva Rose, isn't it?" Cornelius Fudge asked, sticking out his stubby hand to her. His tone was jovial and smooth like the politician that he was. She smiled blandly at him and corrected, “It’s Miranda Rose, actually. Although Miss Rose will do.” He went on as though he were only half listening. “I am Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure, but your work has come to my attention. Excellent job on the ghoul hunting a few years back.” “I think it was a graphorn that time…” “Quite so, quite so. What brings you to London just now?” She extricated her hand, but kept her tone polite. "I just finished the paperwork on the Islington Vampire case." "Excellent, excellent. Allow me to introduce my companion, Mr. Lucius Malfoy." Lucius inclined his head to her, but did not try to take her hand. "Charmed," he said. She returned the nod. "Is there something I can do for your gentlemen?" “Indeed there is,” Cornelius said. "I'd like to talk to you about something that I hope could be your next case.” "Mr. Fudge, I'm terribly sorry, but I have a bit of a waiting list at present and it will be at least a week before I'm ready to think about another case anyway.” "Come now, Miss Rose," Lucius said cooly, "I'm sure we can make it worth your while." Miranda could tell by looking at Mr. Malfoy that he was a man used to getting his way. He was sneering down his nose at her like a prince would sneer at a serf. The back of her neck prickled in warning and she knew he was not a man to be trifled with. "Well, in that case, throw this into the fire in a week to remind me and I'll come discuss it with you then. I'm afraid I'd be utterly useless to you now, I got a bit banged up in the last fray you see.” She pulled a silver card printed with M. Rose out of her pocket and handed it to Cornelius with a charming smile. "Of course, perfectly understandable," Cornelius agreed. Miranda started to leave but Lucius blocked her path. "One week, Miss Rose." His voice sounded like a threat. She held his gaze fearlessly, but calmly and replied, "Good day Mr. Fudge, Mr. Malfoy." Lucius blocked her path for a moment longer, and then let her pass. She kept her pace unhurried although she wanted to run. It wouldn't do to show any discomfort in front of a man like Lucius Malfoy. He would pounce if he scented fear. She was very glad when she finally reached the street. *****

Later that evening Miranda found herself loitering up and down Grimmauld Place. She’d returned to the alley where she’d met Severus several times since his disappearance. She knew she was being ridiculous—for all she knew the man had been dead since the previous week. She told herself that she was doing this mostly to keep herself from getting into worse trouble. Surely wasting her time in a fruitless search was better than sitting alone in her cabin in a drunken stupor, or picking up some fool at Prospero’s night club. At least this way she was getting some exercise. But she knew that part of her hoped that she might succeed in tracking her quarry, ill-advised as that might be. Her instincts were usually spot on when it came to judging people, which served her well in her profession. Severus was obviously an ass, but he also seemed to possess the intelligence necessary to observe what would give a lady pleasure and the self control to give her the time to enjoy it. As impulsive as she knew she was being, she ached to continue what they had started.

She leaned against the wall of one of the dilapidated houses and lit a cigarette.

"Nox" she whispered, and the light at the butt of the cigarette went out, even as she continued to smoke it. The shadows of the building covered the smoke as she watched and listened. She told herself that this would be the last night she'd waste this much time.

As the minutes ticked by, she gradually became aware of a spot between two of the houses a bit up the street from where she was standing. She settled deeper into the shadows, but noticed that there seemed to be quite a few people who wandered up to the spot, and then disappeared. The silence was eerie, and she could have sworn that it was punctuated by the angry shrieks of a woman. Her eyes narrowed and she slowly made her way to a better viewing point across the street. Just as she reached a new length of shadows, her patience was rewarded. She heard a crack that sounded like a wizard Apparating from somewhere close. A few seconds later, Severus swept into view, cape billowing like giant bat wings. Her eyes narrowed as he approached that same spot between the houses, but she could not see exactly when he disappeared. She crossed casually to the spot. She could almost smell the magic, but she doubted she would be able to break whatever spell was in place. Instead, she followed Severus’s trail to the alley from which he had emerged. Grinning, she realized that it was the same alley where they had had their first meeting. Moving like a cat, she climbed up to a fire-escape and lit another cigarette. The magic spot up the street somehow slipped from her mind and she settled in to watch and wait. ****** Severus was in a very black mood as he swept out of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. He'd taken his anger out on all of the members of the Order and felt a bit gratified that he had put a few of them out of temper as well. Since his interrupted tryst of the previous week, he felt rather at the end of his rope. Tasting the promise in Miranda’s lips had lit a fire in his blood that had been long dormant. He was like a starving man given a crumb of bread--his hunger was harder to bear after the tease of the morsel. He tried to tell himself he was probably fortunate that they had been interrupted. She had seemed relatively honest, but how could he really be sure that she wasn’t playing some other game? As much as he hated teaching, he really would be glad when he had his duties at Hogwarts again to distract him. He turned into his usual alley to Apparate back to Spinner's End and felt, rather than heard, someone drop to the ground behind him. He whirled around, wand drawn, and found that he held it pointed at Miranda Rose's lovely neck. "Oh, that's right," she said with a note of laughter in her quiet voice, "you're jumpy." "You are fortunate I didn't kill you," he snapped, wand still at her neck. What the hell was she doing here? "You're right," she said, more seriously than before. "Stupid of me. It must be the moonlight. Do you think you could point that thing somewhere else?" He lowered his wand very slowly and demanded, "What are you doing here?" "Waiting for you. Hey!" she snapped, temper rising as his wand returned to her throat. "What do you think you're doing?" "Who are you working for?” His voice was soft, smooth, and dangerous. There was no possible way she was waiting for him for any good purpose. Wasn’t there a saying somewhere about not trusting beautiful women? "I told you before. I work for my father. His name is Conor Rose. You can check my story at the Ministry of Magic if you don't believe me. Now put that wand away before I get angry." "I don't think so. Why are you waiting for me?” She raised her chin in defiance and said irritably, "Well, if you must know, I was hoping that you weren't dead." "Obviously I am not. Why should you care?" He was sneering at her and her face had turned so red that he could tell that she was blushing, even in the shadows. He relaxed his wand a fraction of an inch and arched an eyebrow as he waited for her answer. Blushes and brazenness, what an interesting combination. Despite her blush, she met his eyes boldly. "I thought that we could pick up where we left off before we were so rudely interrupted." "Did you?" He dragged out those words as though he were tasting them. Very slowly, she brought up a hand and placed it over his. Just as slowly, she stepped closer to him, pinning his wand, and their hands, between them. She turned her face up to his, and murmured, "I suppose I'm being a bit forward, but I hoped you wouldn't mind."

His hand was brushing the curve of her breast where she had it pinned. If he were honest, he'd spent a good deal of the last week imagining what that curve would feel like under his fingers. He raised his free hand and traced her lower lip with his thumb. Her lips parted slightly and this was rather more temptation than he cared to resist. He leaned in to taste those lips and they were warm, yielding, and eager. Vanquished, he slid his fingers over her cheek and buried them in her thick hair, knocking pins asunder as he did.

A few moments later, he became aware that the moonlight was much brighter than it had been. He opened his eyes and saw that they were standing on that same country lane as they had been the previous week. "Homing Spell," she reminded him quietly. "I suppose I wanted to come," he replied, smirking. It was a much more pleasant way to travel than Apparation or port-keys. The cabin wavered into view and he finally pocketed his wand. She started up the path and he followed silently behind her. When she reached the door, she turned, a little smile on her face. “You don’t have any appointments tonight, do you?” she asked. “Nothing planned,” he replied, suddenly hyperaware of the skin on his arm around the Dark Mark. It felt raw for a moment, but the Mark remained quiet for once. “Good.” She opened the door and entered the cabin, removing pins from her hair as she went. He closed the door after them and stood near it, eyes glittering as he watched her. When she reached one of the shelves, she turned and held his gaze as she released her hair from the pins, one lock at a time. She put the pins on the shelf and ran her fingers though the waves of silver, smiling at him invitingly. He crossed the room to her, took a lock of her hair, and wrapped it around his hand. It wasn’t red hair, but it would do. He brushed her lips with his, and then trailed them over her jaw to her throat. She let out a delicious little sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

She wasn’t Lily, but she would do.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and her body moulded to his.

This wasn’t love, but it would do. It would do very nicely, indeed.

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End Notes:

One of my favorite things about this story is the opportunity to imagine what sort of a magic and American would do. The Homing Spell is one that is particularly useful throughout the tale. This is a spell that is put on one specific place by one specific person. It enables the person to return to the place by picturing it in her mind, relaxing, and “stepping sideways,” sort of the way one enters the Land of Oz (but not quite). The spell caster can bring another person with her, assuming that person wishes to go, as relaxation is key to the spell working. The spell also keeps the place hidden from anyone the caster doesn’t wish to see it. There is a limit to how far away from the place a person can be and have the spell still work, and you can’t perform the spell from anywhere that is warded to prevent Apparation. I’ll write more about my American spells as they come up.

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Twelve days of Christmas: day 2. Early presents.

Early presents. A/N: Christmas shopping with these dip-sticks and a early present. _____________________________________________ Pairing: Wade Wilson/Peter Parker Warnings: all characters are 18+, bad language, sexual referencing but nothing actually sexual happens. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ He's used to the cold, Queens was always cold, so it doesn't really bother him when he walks all the way home from work, or to the store, even when the wind is icy and a little blustery. It just doesn't phase him. Wade however? It phases him. He can't stand the cold in the slightest, and it's almost laughable. He wears four layers when it drops below fifty, and Peter's fine with a hoodie. That's probably the main problem Wade's had since moving in with Peter, he just hates the weather. Sure, it'll get warmer, and sure, it's especially cold right now, it's almost Christmas, but god, he's never seen anyone hate this time of year more than Wade. "It's too fucking cold," he whines, slumping down further onto the couch that Peter has spent the better part of ten minutes trying to pry him from. "It's not that bad," Peter assures, giving Wade's arm another tug. He's wearing a long sleeve shirt and hoodie over that, there's no way he can be cold, especially in the house with the heat on. "Come on, we'll be inside anyways." "Nope, sorry doll face," he said, shaking his head. He's always so stubborn. "Wade," Peter sighs, long and drawn out because he's so damn frustrating. He’s lucky he loves him. "Come on, we're running out of time, I need to get Tony and Aunt May presents. I haven't even gotten you a present yet, so I know you haven't gotten me one either, let's go." "Petey, come on, we can do it some other time, when it's not so damn cold." "it's almost Christmas, it's just going to get colder.” Wade groans far louder than necessary and gives Peter a big doe-eyed look, sticking his bottom lip out. He really hopes he doesn't expect this to work, because even when Wade /does/ look cute, he's become quite the expert in saying no to him. "Maybe you can warm me up, sweetie-pie?" He says with a grin, and he looks ready to take a bite out of him. It's really no wonder why Aunt May had been so skeptical of them dating, let alone moving in together. He's eighteen though, and he loves Wade, even if he doubts it sometimes himself. He rolls his eyes efficiently, on queue and shakes his head, letting go of Wade's arm. "Not a chance," he says easily, watching Wade pout. He's going to get him out of the house though, he's determined. "You're evil," he says with a huff. Peter pays it no mind. "I'll cuddle with you when we get home if you get off your ass and come Christmas shopping with me." That sparks interest, and he squints at him, almost like he's expecting Peter to lie or laugh at him and say it's a joke. "Oh really?" "I said I would," Peter says with a little chuckle. He knows Wade too well, and it makes negotiation too easy, not that he's really complaining. "You drive a hard bargain, Petey," he sighs, like he's really weighing the options. Peter already knows he's won, so he just cocks his hip, watching him with mild amusement. "I could just stay home, sleep... stay warm." "Uh uh," he says, unable to keep his grin off his face anymore. "But, you're a sweet lil thing and I do like being able to hold you, and kiss you, and anything else that might follow. You know, early Christmas presents and all that." Peter rolls his eyes again, shaking his head. "Knock it off," he says tiredly. He's pretty well used to it by now. This is just how Wade is, and he'll never admit that he actually kind of loves it. It's an okay part of their relationship, really. "Yeah, yeah, okay," he chuckles, smiling. "let's go then, before I freeze to death or really regret this." So eventually Wade is actually up and ready to leave and they head out, cramming into their shit car. The heat works, but it takes a while, so he listens to Wade whine the majority of the ride there. Once they're parked at the mall he's thoroughly cold himself, though he seems to have a much easier time keeping his mouth shut than Wade. "Come on, you need to help me pick something for them," Peter says with a grin as he shuts off the car and steps out. He's awful at picking presents, he really is, and he's hoping Wade is better at it than he is. Or at least more helpful than he's been so far. "yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he says dramatically, but he can hear the smile in his voice. Sarcastic bastard that he is. Wade climbs out with little grace, practically tripping over himself in the process. Peter thinks it's a bit of a mystery how Wade hasn't nearly killed himself on the ice yet. He burns himself making toast. He wraps an arm around Peter's middle, gentle but still firm enough that they can share body heat. "How're you not freezing?" "I'm used to the cold?" He offers back, looking at Wade with a confused face. "No one gets used to the cold, Petey, don't lie to yourself." Peter snorts out a laugh as they push through the doors. It's considerably warmer just inside the door and Wade sighs loudly, maybe slightly too sexually. Luckily no one seems to notice. "Wade," Peter hisses, smacking at his arm, because God, he's embarrassing. He just laughs, nudging Peter back playfully. "Calm down, no one even cares." He glares back anyways. He doesn't care, Wade still strives to make Peter squirm. "We're getting food before we leave," he says after another pause. "Fine, but not until we're done shopping, okay?" "Fineee," Wade groans, leaning into Peter for emphasis. He drags him to some nice little shop with clothes and nice smelling candles and stuff, because it's as good a place as any to start looking for Aunt May. There's a lot of pretty dresses and things he could imagine she'd like, but he's really not sure. He always wants to spoil her, it's the money that gets in the way. "Heya, Petey?" "Hm?" He looks at him as he twirls one the lave scarves around his index finger. "I don't know him as well as you, I'll admit, but I'm fairly sure you aren't gonna find anything for Stark in here," he says with a little shrug, holding up one of the tiniest dresses he can find, all lace and soft looking fabric. Peters eyebrow actually twitches as he gives him a long look. He really isn't joking. "I'm looking for Aunt May, not Mr. Stark!" He says, his eyes are wide and he's honestly kind of wondering why he ended up with this moron. His face is hot, is he blushing? He feels like he’s blushing. "Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense," he says with a sigh, though he looks vaguely disappointed. "Maybe we can get the dress for you instead?" "Fuck off," he mumbles, scanning the isles. He doesn't know where to even start. He's awful at shopping on general, it's even harder for women. "Can I help you gentlemen?" Says some lady, leaning over the counter. She has a thick accent, Texan maybe. She's pretty, her hair is thick and blond, pulled up in a ponytail, though it's clearly been bleached. She's tan, curvyand tall. She looks nice and slightly intimidating. "I hope," Wade mumbles, flashing Peter a grin. He just glares back. ”No, uh, I don't think so," Peter says awkwardly. He probably could use her expertise, but he's way too awkward and he would rather avoid talking to her, really. She seems to disregard him completely though and comes around her desk. "Lookin' for a sister? Girlfriend?" Wade's chuckling madly behind him, letting him suffer the attention and bombardment of questions. God, he hates him sometimes. "Uh, no," he says, but he sounds uncertain even to himself. "Hmm? Who is it for than, sugar?" He hopes dearly that this doesn't bite him in the ass later and have Wade never, ever let his inevitable skip ups go. "Uh, my aunt? My mom, really." She perks up, and she looks far too excited. "Ooh! Cute!" She squeals, bouncing on her heels. "Come over here, I'll show you some of our newest additions to this line, we just got some new perfume and sweaters in!" Wade hangs back, looking at thigh highs and other skimpy looking outfits. He's pretty sure he's doing it to make the situation worse for him, but who knows. Peter couldn't care any less about their new perfume or stupid sweaters. Did she even like perfume? She always just smelled nice. It's not like he payed attention to that stuff. "We've got these four new perfumes, and they're in such cute packaging, ya know? They're limited edition, so only for Christmas!" He tries not to show how much he really, really, doesn't care. He made a mistake coming in here, apparently. Women were so difficult. Eventually, after what feels like quite literally a century, she's shown him every possible option in perfume, lotion, makeup, clothes and anything else he could possibly think of. He doesn't want to buy anything of the stuff either, though now he feels generally compelled to. "Gonna get her some panties?" Wade says in his ear, which when the hell did he even come over here? He jumps back a little, smacking him in the chest. "Shut up, asshole." "I'm helping you," he says incredulously, looking offended. He shakes his head. "Imma leave you behind, you're the worst." "No you won't, you love me," he says with a grin, draping himself over peter like he does so often. He gives the girl behind the counter a long look, and he's not sure it's not some bizarre attempt at dominance. She does look uncomfortable, either from Wade's odd display or something else, he can't really be sure. "Lucky for you." With a decent amount of awkwardness, Wade gets him to leave the store, though he really does feel obligated to buy something at this point. "How about we go somewhere that'll actually have good presents?" "And you're the expert now?" Peter asks with a little grin, pulling Wade's beanie down over his eyes. He wishes he wouldn't hide so much behind his clothes, but he knows he's uncomfortable as it is, and the less attention drawn to himself the better. Wade grins widely, tugging the hat back up so it's on his head properly again. "I am, actually," he says matter of factly as he grabs Peters hand and tugs him towards another shop. The mall is getting kind of crowded at this point, and they're weaving through people as he tries his best not to trip over himself and into his boyfriend or someone else. "Oh yeah?" He says through a laugh as Wade pulls him to the side quickly. He stumbles a little at the sudden force behind it and almost ends up against the wall or in Wade's chest but he catches himself. "I'll prove it," Wade says smartly, ruffling Peter's hair a little. He hates when he does that. "Okay, I'm waiting," he teases back but Wade doesn't even looked phased. He wonders vaguely, if he isn't so bad at shopping. It wouldn't surprise him really, Wade is good at a lot of weird things. He drags him almost instantly to the store right next to them where there's loud music playing overhead, some rock band he's never even heard before and the lights are bright and multicolored. The walls are lined with bizarre things, men's dress wear, sunglasses, bongs towards the back, and a long line of shoes all the way from Converse to dress shoes. He thinks there's probably a reason that he hasn't ever been here before. "Boom," he says proudly, like he solved everything. Really, Peter is just more confused. "What the hell is this?" "Where you're gonna find Stark a present, honey-buns," he grins, licking his lips quickly. "Showing me a shop is different than finding a present," he says flatly in response. "Here I was thinking you were some expert." "Did I say I was done?" He raises his eyebrows in silent expectation. Wade bounces into action then, jogging over to one of the shelves in the back, he's like a wind up toy that never winds down. It's tiring just watching him. "Alright, okay, so get him a stupid dress jacket-thingy," he says waving his hand vaguely at the stuff as peter catches up. "This one." He grabs it off the hanger and peter nods mutely. He could see him wearing it. "Then just get him a snazzy ass pocket watch. Boom, done." "Okay, not bad," Peter admits, amused. He's taking this way to seriously, it's both hysterical and kind of cute. "I mean, unless he needs a pipe and a huge ass, neon-pink bong..." "Okay, just stop." Wade chuckles and buys the stuff, refusing to let him see the price of anything and then he's towing him around like a rag-doll again to several other stores after that. Eventually they're each carrying a pretty damn huge bag of stuff for Aunt May and Tony alike, and Peter is about ready to go and get something to eat himself. "What do you want to eat?" Wade waves a dismissive hand at him in response, making a face. "Food can wait, we have one more stop to make." "I already got plenty of stuff," he assures with a laugh. "Not quite." "Okay, what else do I have to get?" "Come on, you'll see." So peter follows him blindly, confused. Wade let's go of him when they're in front of one of those stupid jewelry stores, and he almost laughs and tells him the joke is over before he thinks that a nice necklace or something might be kind of perfect for Aunt May. "Alright, smart." Wade grins a little, looking all too pleased. "I know." "Let's hurry so we can go eat?" "It'll just take a minute, everything is already picked out," he says, shrugging as he walks in. Peter follows quickly, catching up and wrapping an arm around Wade's. "You picked something for her?" "No." "Then how do you know?" Wade doesn't answer, just goes up to the counter where the lady smiles brightly and hands him one of the pretty and expensive looking boxes all of the rings and brackets are held in. "Because I picked it for you, obviously," he said, turning to look at peter. "We aren't shopping for me, Wade," peter says, rolling his eyes. Seriously, why couldn't he be secretive like everyone else's boyfriend on planet earth? "Well, I was," he says, pouting as he started to undo the wrappings and open it up. "Well don't show me!" "I kinda have to, Pete," wade says with a laugh. "Normal people wait until Christmas!" The lady behind the counter is starring but she's smiling, so he guesses she's used to this stuff. "Well, one, I'm not normal," he says, and Peter just shakes his head, unamused. "And second, I can't wait any longer, so you're just gonna have to deal with being engaged before Christmas." "What?" Wade just kind of grins. "you heard me." "Wade--?" He gets down on one knee before Peter can even react or form a sentence, opening the little box with a small, silver band inside. And wow, okay, he's gonna pass out. "Marry me?" "Shit, you suck so much!" Peter screeches, and yeah, he's already crying. Wade snorts. "Yeah, I know. So uh, marriage or?" "Fuck," Peter squeaks, covering his mouth with his hands. He pretends like he doesn't notice how much he's shaking. "Yes, yes!" The lady giggles, hopping up and down a little as she gives a small little round of applause. Wade gets up then, still grinning widely and smugly, Peter wants to punch him and kiss him at the same time. "you such so much," Peter breathes, tears still pooling and spilling over. His heart is beating out of his chest, he thinks he might have an aneurism. "I hate you." "No you don't," Wade says, kissing some of the tears from peters cheek as he fits the ring over Peter's finger. "There, now you're mine." Peter sniffles, smiling down at the ring. "And now you really owe me lunch."