#multiverse is ending but they’re just looking at each other

[lokiusly]

lokius reunion —

An army of Kangs fight the Avengers from all of the timelines in order to control the multiverse.

A TVA analyst is in their midst, along with the TVA army.

And from across the battlefield, the king of the multiverse, god of stories— Loki, spots him. And Mobius sees him too.

Loki raises his hands, pausing the bloodshed. Time is stopped but he can’t hold for much longer.

He parts the sea of warriors in battle and walks directly to Mobius, never breaking eye contact.

Suddenly, they are face to face with each other, after being apart for so long.

They smile.

"Loki." Mobius breathes.

Loki steps closer, his hands still raised.

Mobius looks at him with adoration, just like he did all those centuries ago.

"Mobius." Loki's eyes glisten.

With one hand, Loki pulls Mobius closer to him and their lips intertwine.

Loki's hands twitch. He can't hold off time much longer.

As he releases the effect, he pulls away from Mobius reluctantly.

Mobius furrows his eyebrows at Loki's worried expression.

As the screams and bloodshed start again, Loki puts on a brave front, winks at Mobius, and gently pushes him back — a time door opening, sending him far from here, to safety.

Loki touched his lips and smiles. His hands turned green and he faced the battlefield

If more time was going to pass, he would fight.

He would make sure he would make it back to his love, because his love believed he would— and he wasn't going to disappoint him now.

[muletia]

I can’t stop thinking about the concept of the multiverse in my obsessed!Optimus au

Let’s say your mainline universe is TFP, where you’ve managed to build a stable relationship with Optimus. You’re happy and he’s even happier. Life is treating you well, maybe you two have finally settled down in your own cottagecore safe haven? Either way, life is beautiful.

Until one day, Optimus appears in your garden. But not your Optimus. This one is… boxier? Then another one shows up. And another. And another. G1, IDW, Bayverse, Knightverse — every version you can imagine. And every single one of them is obsessed with you. Each one is determined to have you as their own. Some break down crying at the sight of you, while others’ first instinct is to scoop you up in their servos and hold you close against their faceplate until you end up in yet another set of servos.

As it turns out, you from other dimensions weren’t as lucky as in the TFP verse. You and Optimus never got your happy ending — whether it was because you died or were permanently taken by Megatron, so every version of Optimus is desperate to spend even a moment with you. To allow themselves just a fleeting illusion of happiness, even though they know you don’t belong to them.

Others take a different approach. Bayverse and Shattered Glass straight-up kidnap you and immediately start looking for a way to return to their own universe. They’re not about to waste their second chance at being yours.

Poor TFP Optimus. Not only is he having an existential crisis from seeing himself in so many different forms, shapes, and personalities, but his dearest keeps getting passed from servos to servos nonstop. He’s not a possessive mech, but this time? You’re staying by his chassis 24/7 until every single variant disappears from his garden

[soul-collectors]

SOUL Collectors 101 - #1 : Anomaly SOULs

Presented by Edu! a Science!Sans variant specializing in studying these anomalies!

(next lesson)

-What are Anomaly SOULs?

Put it simply; They’re SOULs affected by a timeline glitch that gives the concealed human SOULs shape and matter, virtually reviving them!

it usually happens after an “ending” has registered into the timeline Where the SOULs are supposed to just- disappear.

Every time the file save of that timeline is loaded or reset without properly handling the Anomaly SOULs, they’re reformed.

-Stages of reformation

Beginning with a simplified Vistage, they eventually develop to a more accurate shape of the departed human, even recovering their memories at a certain point- until uhm...I haven’t gotten enough data to know haha..!

Their memories may develop in different ways with each reset! Some might only remember their fall and some might recall everything to their last breath..oof...

Anomaly Souls cannot be absorbed nor shattered! They simply “refuse” to. Literally.

Only SOUL Collectors can properly contain Anomaly SOULs. Other methods have been used, but they usually yield less favorable results. We’re still discovering more about them, though!

If a SOUL Collector frees an Anomaly SOUL after containing them, it usually takes from a few hours to days or even weeks for their Vistage to reform depending on what phase they were collected in.

-How do you tell the difference?

You can’t- at least not your normal, everyday person. By themself, SOUL Anomalies look almost indistinguishable from a normal SOUL. You won’t know unless you try shattering or absorbing it-!

Some Monsters and humans from other universes have trained themselves to tell the difference! And some are just “born” to it- like SOUL Collectors-!

-Are they dangerous?

ehhh…Not really- I mean Yes!! *some* are! But for the first few phases that ARE harmless, down the line, they may pose a threat to the timeline and its inhabitants, especially if agitated…

-Monsters affected by Anomaly SOULs.

If an Anomaly SOUL attacks and kills a monster and the save file is loaded/reset, the Monster will return somewhat physically similar to an amalgamate.

Their SOUL reforms their body in the same way as a SOUL Anomaly’s “but it refused” mentality.

Except- unlike a human’s, the Monster’s SOUL isn’t capable of properly reforming itself…thus they come out...misshapen.

I haven’t seen many cases, thankfully. But, from the data I collected from SOUL collectors themselves; this is one of the main reasons they collect anomaly SOULs: to protect the inhabitants of timelines and the multiverse from collapsing into itself in chaos.

That's probably the gist of it- We're still researching Anomaly SOULs especially Whenever Soul visits this timeline-

.

[This is just the basic info about Anomaly SOULs, More information and examples will be posted throughout the account/story!]

[emo-batboy]

Somewhere out there in the DC multiverse, there’s a world where Battinson’s parents didn’t die, and he became the Lance Stroll of Formula One racing. Wayne Enterprises has an F1 team, Thomas brought Bruce to races when he was young, they indulged his love of cars until he was winning kart races at 8. He BEGGED to help design the race cars, ended up making a great car, and now Wayne has turned from a midfield team to nearly top three.

You’d think everyone hates Bruce because he’s a nepo baby, but he’s just so nice and smiley (like Lance lol) that everyone loves him anyway. His dad is the team’s chairman and pretty hands-on just like Lawrence Stroll. Fans call Bruce the F1 Princess as a joke since he’s already the Prince of Gotham, but then it sticks, and now everyone makes edits of him with tiaras on every time he makes it to the podium. He doesn’t get it, but he’s not going to complain either. His fans are just silly. (He blushes so much when anyone calls him princess to his face, though. Fight me.)

Bruce still insists on everything being black because it’s his favorite color. It was already mostly black before he joined, but now it’s even blacker. His suit is all black. The car is all black. The helmet is all black. He loves it. He looks just like the dark, regal old money rich boy you’d imagine until he’s smiling and talking about racing. (Imagine a meme with two cars next to each other, one being WE’s. It says: “Bruce’s Car v. Bruce’s Personality.” The other one is covered in glitter obv.) One time, a little girl gives him a tiara that she painted black herself and asks him to wear it if he wins. (He does win. He puts it on at the podium. He’s embarrassed the entire time. The champagne rubs some of the black away. It’s a treasured memory and sits right on top in his trophy case.)

His fellow drivers call him Brucie to tease him. He’s a bit awkward during interviews, but that just makes him endearing. He’s also tall for an F1 driver (nepo baby core) so there’s always jokes about him towering over everyone. One time, he came second to Lewis Hamilton, but you could still see he was visibly standing taller on the podium, and people would not stop making jokes about it. (It was mostly his hair, but you know how Twitter is.) Speaking of hair, it will NOT stay flat. He looks insane every time he takes his helmet off. He could be sweating for hours in there but when he takes the thing off, he looks like he’s through in a tornado. (Again, memes.) He knows so much about car mechanics, even for a driver, and will regularly start talking to other drivers or the press about the tiniest of parts in the engine or break system, unaware that everyone is completely lost. (Also memes about that.)

When he’s 23, he suffers a pretty bad crash. It knocks him out for about twenty seconds, and his mom and dad are ready to pull him completely from the sport, but he refuses to stop, and despite missing a few races to recover—his dad’s still a doctor—he ends up winning the next race and gets to stay.

During his F1 career, it’s pretty much guaranteed that he’ll get fastest laps, but he only gets podium like 40–50% of the time. There’s always drama that apparently Wayne Enterprises is trying to become top three, but they insist that they’re not as competitive. They will always have respect for every team, and it shows. They never join in on protests. They always wish the other teams luck, and they genuinely congratulate the winners. Bruce is always the first to hug the winner :)

Before Bruce joined, the Wayne team was always a midfield team, and they were perfectly comfortable with it. WE had good-looking cars, they designed good-looking cars, and they sold good-looking cars, and F1 was just a way of promoting that. Thomas loved watching the races, and he was happy to see them get podium a few times per season, and that was it.

Until Bruce became their lead driver, and he wanted to really earn his seat, and he wanted to get podium, and he wanted to design a faster car, and he wanted to win, and Thomas Wayne couldn’t say no to his son, and suddenly Wayne Enterprises was inching closer and closer to the front of the grid. Now, they’re still not The Best, but they’re a team that future drivers look up to.

During a season of DTS, Bruce is 27. Netflix films the Wayne episode when there’s a fatal crash in F2, and Bruce was nearby when it happened. He ends up crying on camera for ten minutes. They had to cut almost all of it, but we get the most gut-wrenching confessional about how after he heard the news, in that moment, he didn’t want to be an F1 driver. He admits that if he hadn’t become a driver, he was going to become a doctor like his father, and he wonders if he could have saved the driver’s life if he did that instead. “What am I really doing if I can’t help others? I could have been anything…Maybe being a driver was selfish. Maybe I don’t belong on the track anymore.”

He’s visibly distraught during the moment of silence on the day of the race, but Bruce decided to continue because he wants to make the fans and spectators happy. (That’s his job, anyway. That’s what he does.) Despite getting pole position the previous day, he doesn’t get fastest lap or make it to the podium, but he still gets fourth. He has a long talk with his father away from cameras and calls his mom. The future’s uncertain for a few days until Bruce comes back to training. To finish the episode, he says he’s going to continue driving, even if he might need a bit of time to get his confidence back, and he pledges to one day make the safest F1 car ever seen. Even if it’s part of the risk of being a driver, he doesn’t want to see any more drivers losing their lives to the sport they love.

When he’s around 35 or 40, he retires from Formula One so he can inherit Wayne Enterprises, and he takes his father’s place as chairman of the team. Since he has the time now, he holds up on his promise to make an even safer car—the designs inspiring safer car designs for other teams as well—and they pick out two incredible drivers who end up finally (FINALLY) moving Wayne Enterprises into one of the top three teams. They win the world championship twice in a row before falling back a bit and only winning it every couple of years, but they’re nonetheless fierce competitors. Bruce still has a ton of kids, some of which like F1 just like he does, but he is the only Wayne to become a Formula One driver.

I just think Battinson would love driving for F1 :)

[heliads]

Can I pretty please request Carlos Sainz x reader where she’s rly shy and gets worried that maybe he wants someone more outgoing but he tells her he loves her any way she is? Your writing is amazing 🫶🏻

anon i love you wholeheartedly please let me speak on carlos

masterlist

You are not who you are supposed to be. There are qualifications for being the girlfriend of a Formula One driver, you’re sure of it, probably even a style guide somewhere if you only bothered to look it up. Perfect hair. Clean makeup. Pretty, but doesn’t try too hard. Willing to give up their whole life to follow one man on mad jaunts across the planet. Wherever your guidebook is, though, you must have lost it long ago, because you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, and worst of all, it’s starting to show.

You never should have gotten into this position in the first place. That isn’t to say that you hate it, far from it; dating Carlos Sainz is the best thing that ever happened to you, making you the happiest wrong person at the right time to ever exist. In every other universe, he’s probably seeing models or actresses, but here, he has you, and you’re willing to fight off every multiversal version of you just to keep everything as it is right now.

Your butterfly effect was quite stunning, actually. You ended up getting tickets to a Grand Prix through last minute cancellations. They were great, came with paddock passes and all that, and while you were lingering through Ferrari hospitality, Carlos happened to drop by to visit a friend and he noticed you while you were in line to get some water. He’s got the confidence of, well, a world class athlete, an adrenaline junkie, a professional race car driver, and so he introduced himself.

Sometimes, it’s just as easy as that. A father’s cousin’s roommate buys two tickets to a Grand Prix, then a stranger’s roommate’s brother gets sick, and suddenly you’re touching down off a plane overseas and walking through the door of paddock hospitality. You wear red, and you are seen. Just like that.

It took one more weekend before either of you knew that you wanted what you had to last for good. He texted you, followed you on Instagram and blew his cover of seeming cool by accidentally liking a post of yours from six years ago. And, when he saw you again, he knew that he wanted the spark between you to be something more, something like a bonfire.

Coincidence may have supported you thus far, but you don’t trust it not to abandon you. At the end of the day, you are you, you are Y/N L/N, and you are so far removed from Carlos’ world that it stuns you to think that you were even in his orbit so long as to meet him. If there are powers that be somewhere in the universe, they’re either playing a cruel joke or messing around to give you a helping hand. 

Hopefully, it’ll be the latter, but truly who knows at this point. As if it wasn’t surreal enough to introduce Carlos to your friends and family as Carlos Sainz, Formula One driver. As if it doesn’t blow your minds that people have started making Instagram accounts just dedicated to posting photos of you and your boyfriend whenever you’re seen out together.

The problem lies in the insanity of it all. You are not from this sort of life, you weren’t born into a silver spoon dynasty and you barely know how to interact with any of them now. You get along with the other WAGs as best you can; Heidi’s lovely, sure, and you were friendly with Charlotte until she disappeared, but sometimes it feels like it’s just you and your boyfriend against the world. Of any ally to pick, Carlos would be your top choice each and every time, but still. The fact remains that he will go out and race and leave you to your own devices, and you lack the extroverted impulses to social climb with everyone else.

This, then, is the main concern. You can pick out whatever designer clothes you want, goodness knows Carlos has offered to buy you anything already, and you can get your nails and hair done before each and every race, but that doesn’t change the fact that you, at your core, are never going to enjoy the paparazzi circus whenever you have to brave it.

It’s just not your scene, that’s all. You’re on the quieter side, happy to spend time with a few key friends but increasingly nervous in large crowds. Formula One is all large crowds, as you’ve discovered; thousands of fans, hundreds of engineers and team members, plus drivers and girlfriends and best friends. So many eyes, all on you. So many voices all shouting over each other.

You love Carlos, though, and you love him wholeheartedly, so you gather up your courage and go to race weekends when you can. Every time Carlos sees you in the crowd, he smiles so widely his friends tease him for weeks, and he runs to you first after every podium and strong finish. You want to be there for your boyfriend, truly you do, you just wonder if all of this should come easier to you than it does.

Also, you wonder if Carlos wishes the same thing. He has been nothing but perfect to you, so the spirals of guilt currently tangling their way through your insides are purely of your own creation, but what if he truly does think like that? Carlos must see the other WAGs, how they shine and sparkle with attention instead of feeling the urge to run. Wouldn’t he want that? Wouldn’t he get frustrated that you can’t be like the rest?

Thousands of girls in the world, and he picks you. You don’t know if it’s sweet or genuinely frightening. He wanted you out of everyone, yes, but he could replace you in a snap, swapping you out like some useless part on his car. There is nothing about you that cannot be replicated in any other girl. Even Charles did it, in a way, got himself a new girlfriend that’s a dead ringer for Charlotte. Carlos has no reason to keep you except for something he knows and you don’t.

The guessing will drive you mad, maybe, but you’ll lose your sanity long before that just trying to keep up with everything in his fast-paced life. You’ve been to prior F1 races, obviously, it’s how you met Carlos in the first place and it’s also how you kept him, but this upcoming weekend is different, this is Barcelona. Carlos is the center of attention at his home race, and every step he takes, a new storm of people is flooding in to ask him for autographs, selfies, anything to remind them that he’s real and right before their eyes.

Carlos doesn’t ask for a whole lot, and he certainly didn’t force you to come to this race, but you saw the hope in his dark eyes when he brought it up oh-so-casually at a dinner last week. You had assured him that you would go there to cheer him on along with the rest of his home crowd, and Carlos had been delighted for the rest of the evening.

You are happy to go, truly, but it’s taking everything in you to keep your smile up in front of the reporters and crowds and fans, and it’s just the first day. All you’re handling right now is qualifying, not even the actual race. In the back of your mind, a voice whispers that it’s only going to get worse from here on out, but when Carlos looks back at you as you wind through the paddock, you just smile and tell him you’re glad to be there with him. You’re here for him, after all, and Carlos is busy enough with race stuff that he won’t want to hear your complaints.

That’s what you keep repeating to yourself throughout the entirety of that day. Carlos qualifies well and is properly pleased about it, as he should be. The possibility of a podium or perhaps even a win for his home race has been one of his top goals for the season, and he’s as close as he can get to it right now. He earnestly talks about it the whole drive back to your hotel, but once you’re back in the safety and peace of the room, the conversation abruptly switches back to you.

Carlos sheds his jacket at the door, watches you flop down onto the bed with a smile on his face, then asks you pointedly, “And how are you doing, amor?”

You smile back at him, the expression trained to perfection after being tested so many times today. “Great! Glad that everything’s going so well for you. I’ll be cheering for P1 tomorrow.”

In truth, you’re tired more than anything. People kept coming up to you all day, assuming that taking a selfie with Carlos’ girlfriend was at least half as good as getting to see him. They gave you all manner of gifts and things to give to him, extracting promises that you’d tell him dozens of different people wished him well. You knew you’d get a lot more attention when you started dating Carlos, but the lack of personal space and privacy at the races is truly unlike anything you’d experienced before.

Carlos has been dating you long enough to pick up on this, apparently, because he furrows his brow and sits down on the edge of the bed next to you. “I’ll be glad to see you tomorrow, but do you want to tell me what is really on your mind? Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I know you, no?”

You sigh, covering your face with one of your arms. Carlos deflects from this attempt to hide by gently pulling your arm away, pressing a kiss to your forehead to make up for it. “Talk to me, cariño.”

You look sorrowfully at him, but when it becomes clear that Carlos won’t let you go until you confess, you give in. “It’s just a lot, I guess. The people and the cameras and everything.”

Carlos frowns. “I can get them to go away, you know that. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You look away. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to hear it. All of the other girlfriends have no problem with it, just me. I thought you’d want me to be more outgoing, so I tried, I really did, it’s just hard for me, I don’t know why.”

When you dare to risk a glance up at Carlos, you’re surprised to notice that he looks genuinely hurt. “Sweetheart, you didn’t think that I would actually be unhappy about that? I just want you to be happy. Don’t think about me.”

You let out a low breath. “I know, it’s just– I want to be like the rest, really. I don’t want this to be a reason–”

You cut yourself off, distracted by Carlos’ hands still wrapped around yours. Carlos picks up on the obviously dropped subject, though, and looks at you with fresh concern. “You don’t want it to be a reason for what?”

“That you would break up with me,” you whisper.

That’s it, then. That’s the truth. If you can’t live with Carlos’ lifestyle, why wouldn’t he leave you for someone who could? It makes perfect sense to you, but judging by Carlos’ expression, that logic couldn’t be further from his mind.

“No, Y/N,” he says, “That’s not right at all. I don’t want to break up with you, like, ever. Not because of this. I don’t want someone else, I want you. I love you, querida. I love the girl who showed up out of nowhere and made me forget about every other woman in the world. I love the girl who shows up to my home race even though it stresses her out because she wants to be there for me. I love you, Y/N. No one else. Just you.”

And, well, in the face of such passionate declarations, who could stand firm in their own self-pity? Certainly not you. You smile and let him kiss you again and again until you can’t see straight, and after that it is better, it is all better. Hearing it straight from Carlos is better than trying to guess at it. It lets your worries finally sink off into nothingness. It’s just you and him, just what he wants. Just what you want.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

[zeroducks-2]

You know there really is something poetic about the fact that Flash and Reverse keep bringing each other back intentionally. Like they’re not each others lightning rods so they have to try and bring the other back. At this point Reverse seems to have won if you really look at it. They’re two sides of the same devoted coin and Barry Allen needs Eobard Thawne the same way Eobard needs him.

Sweetheart, they very much ARE each other's Lightning Rod.

Eobard is the only one person in the whole multiverse who was able to bring Barry back after Barry had been dead for 23 years. Iris (who by the way is the reason or at least part of the reason why Barry died in the first place), didn't even FEEL that Barry had returned once Eobard had brought him back. Wally, who keeps saying he is Barry's Lightning Rod, was never able to pull Barry out of the speedforce.

It is kind of subtle because there is no moment in which Eobard uses the words "Lightning Rod" and I don't think he likes the expression, but that's very much what happened in the Rebirth Mini. He did the unthinkable (made himself the NSF), physically walked into the Speed Force and pulled Barry out. And Geoff Johns, being as subtle as a brick, had a panel of Eobard standing next to a huge lightning rod lol.

And when it comes to Barry? Well, Barry very much uses the Lightning Rod expression. And at the end of Finish Line he does accept/admits to being Eobard's Lightning Rod.

When it comes to how they need to actively WANT to bring each other back, I think it's partially due to the fact that these are not "just" speedsters; Barry is the Speed Force personified, and Eobars is the Negative Speed Force personified, and this again is explained pretty well in the Rebirth Mini. So yeah, they are very much two sides of the same coin and it makes SENSE that they're each other's lodestone.

But it's not always intentional anyway. Barry did not consciously brought Eobard back to life at the beginning of Running Scared. He was feeling guilty because he didn't manage to save him in The Button, and apparently he wanted him back. Same thing happened when Barry summoned a lightning storm that very precisely hit Iron Heights and again very precisely crushed Eobard's cell and his restraints, without hurting him, in order to set him free - Barry did not do this knowingly, he was worried because Daniel had been taken from Iron Heights and brought to Belle Reve, and subsequently he had died in a Task Force X mission, and in his fear that this could happen to Eobard too, his powers manifested and broke him out of prison.

It's the same thing as when lightning strikes and saves August's life by turning him into a speedster. Or when it keeps striking and turns some hundred people into speedsters because baby feels lonely. Barry doesn't do this consciously; as he hasn't accepted that he is the Speed Force, his powers come out following his desires or his fears.

That being said, there is a very important component of reciprocity when it comes to lightning rods. When Linda forgot about Wally, Wally was unable to leave the timestream because even if she very much is his Lightning Rod, she couldn't be that for him at that time, because she didn't remember him. It's not an automatic thing: if tomorrow Linda stopped loving Wally, she wouldn't be his Lightning Rod anymore despite how much he loves her. Which leads me to believe that despite not fully realizing it in a conscious manner, Barry and Eobard know and they look for each other subconsciously, and they keep each other grounded to the timeline.

Again you are correct, Eobard very much won. Barry didn't care about him ONE BIT back in the Silver Age, Eobard was just a nuisance with superpowers. And now Eobard is his lodestone, the darkness to his light, and even the voice of reason sometimes. Like when in Knight Terrors he's pretty much the only one telling Barry "this is a nightmare, wake up".

[flametrashiraarchive]

Hi! Me again lol. If we're limited to how much we can ask you don't have to answer. I was wondering if you could do Giyuu x Y/N who was also a hashira but after the final battle. They're finally able to be together and months later find out they're expecting. It can be SFW or NSFW. If you're not comfortable with this I totally understand.

-☀️

Yes! Happy endings ftw. 

I thought it would be cute to have this be part of the bathhouse pieces just for the sake of a throwaway joke, but this reader is specifically AFAB so please ignore it if that's not for you. It's the Bathing with Giyuu Multiverse.

I’m really sorry it doesn’t really include the pregnancy part (I alluded to it but they’re really difficult for me to write about sometimes) but I hope the love between Giyuu and you makes up for it. 

This piece does contain slight spoilers for the end of the Demon Slayer manga so be warned! (spoilers from here on out!) 

Also, I refuse to accept that the thing with the mark and how much time he has left is canon. It’s too sad so it doesn’t happen. You and Giyuu are gonna grow old together. 

I hope you like it!!

AFTERMATH

Giyuu Tomioka x F!reader. NSFW.

Memories of your fallen comrades haunt you long after the rubble is cleared away. Nightmares of what befell those you care about wake you when you finally do manage to drift off. The scent of battle lingers on your skin for weeks. Smoke, blood, and death. No matter how many times you've tried to wash it off it clings to you. 

Which is why you find yourself traipsing to the onsen in the darkness, your katana still grasped firmly in your hand, because you still can't quite believe that it's over. The battle is won, and the world is safe. 

You can relax in the onsen completely safe and completely alone– 

"You're kidding me?!"

Giyuu stares at you, half submerged in the steaming water, his expression one of wide-eyed surprise. But once he sees it's you, his face softens again. "Ah… is it time for our annual awkward bath together?"

You laugh for the first time in days. Giyuu has always been a little less guarded around you, but since the fight ended, he has been far more open. He's funny. Peace looks good on him.

"Do you mind if I get in?" You ask, "It's not like we haven't seen everything already."

He shakes his head. "I don't mind. We've been through hell and back together, this is nothing."

"Yeah…"

"Should I turn around?" he asks.

Oh Giyuu. Even after everything you’ve been through together; the battles, the quiet moments, the nights you spent together early on where you promised it was just once to get it out of your systems, and the times later when you both agreed you could die at any moment so why the hell not. Even after all that, he’s still a perfect and slightly awkward gentleman. 

Your breath shivers as you slip off your yukata in answer and those deep blue eyes of his drink you in. 

He stands, gazing up at you with his lips slightly parted. It'll take some time to get used to the sight of him without his right arm, and no doubt it'll take him even longer than that. But he's alive. You both made it. You survived. 

He wades toward you and offers you his hand, helping you step down into the water. His eyes never leave you. Yours never leave him. And you both just stand there, the water only up to your hip, laid bare before each other in this newly peaceful world.

You no longer smell smoke, blood, or death. Giyuu’s scent is soft, clean rain, washing over you and carrying the horrors away.

His smile is so soft and serene your heart aches.

A muscle in his cheek flexes before he speaks. "I didn't lose you," he says, as though the fact is only just sinking in, as if he'd mourned you even before the battle had even begun and is only just allowing himself to believe you’re really there, that you really survived. 

It’s a feeling you know well. 

A slow smile lifts his lips, his eyes meeting yours, his sapphire gaze filled with unending tenderness. You reach up to caress his cheek and melt as he closes his eyes and leans into your touch. 

"We made it, Giyuu."

"We did," he says, his voice so quiet and calm. "I should have told you this before the battle, but I was afraid to because I thought telling you would mean you wouldn't make it. Like I’d put a curse on you or something. And if you don't feel the same–"

"I love you."

His eyes widen a little, but soften a heartbeat later. He chuckles. "Yeah… yeah, you took the words out of my mouth." 

"I've wanted to tell you that for the longest time."

"Me too.' He dips his chin, pressing his forehead to yours as a quiet laugh of relief emerges from him. With your heart fluttering, you close your eyes and just enjoy the sensation, and the quiet intimacy of being loved by Giyuu.

His lips hover so close to yours, gentle breaths fanning over your skin. Your heart aches with need for him as you tilt your face toward him to bring your lips closer.

He closes the gap, his kiss as light as gossamer, sending your heart into a frenzy. The kiss is so gentle it's almost painful, the fluttering in your chest more than you can bear. It shivers through every fiber of your body, more potent than any breathing technique as every cell in your body seems to sigh his name. 

Giyuu. You're alive. We made it, and we can finally let ourselves love.

Little by little, the kiss deepens until Giyuu's tongue is caressing yours. His lips are soft and oh-so gentle, stirring up the butterflies in your belly. You open your eyes, seeking reassurance that this isn’t all just some dream. The intimate sight of him causes your heart to leap; his eyes are closed, his pretty dark lashes resting on his pink-dusted cheeks, so peaceful in that moment you can’t believe this is the same world which demanded so much sacrifice. 

He skates his hand down to the curve of your lower back, gently pulling you closer until your bodies are flush with each other. The rise and fall of his chest staggers against yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him, bathed in moonlight and the rising steam of the onsen. And though the battle only took place in one tiny pocket of the world, it feels as though you are clinging to each other among the wreckage, even here surrounded by serenity.

As much as you crave each other, you take your time and love one another slowly, washing each other with all the tenderness the world couldn’t spare you until now. You sit with your back to him as he washes your hair, his fingers deftly moving over your scalp, making goosebumps pebble along your thighs. He bows his head and weaves a cloak of kisses across your back and shoulders, making sure not to leave a single inch of you feeling unloved.

And then, when you’ve both washed away what you needed to, he takes your hand and leads you back to his home; a big, empty house waiting to be filled with the family and the love he never even allowed himself to believe he could have. The comforting scent of him lingers in the house and you feel as though you never want to leave. He doesn’t want you to go either. 

Moonlight shines through the windows, casting silver light over the pair of you as you lie together in Giyuu’s bed, lost once more in tender kisses. The relief and love, the guilt of survival, the way your mind can’t quite slip fully out of fight mode… It’s overwhelming. He notices the moment your tears start to fall. 

“Love… it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking them away with his thumb and you know he understands completely.

“We’re allowed to be happy, aren’t we?”

He smiles softly, and nods. “Yeah… we are.”

His breath is hot against your skin as he trails kisses over your jaw, down your throat, and to your chest. When his lips reach the top of your breast he pauses, lays down his head and closes his eyes, listening to your heart’s rhythm and your breathing with a quiet sigh. You know this will go on for a while; that no matter how often you reassure each other that this is real, that you both made it, that it’s okay for you to love each other, some part of you both will always question.

Because since when has the world ever been this kind?

“Can I love you forever?” he asks softly. “Is that okay?”

Your fingers thread through his soft black hair as he kisses down your stomach. “Please, Giyuu… please do.”

He brings you simple solace with the wet heat of his mouth. He settles between your thighs, eyes closed, lapping at your tender flesh with his fingers interlaced with yours. Soft and slow and so loving your heart can barely take it. He tastes every inch of you, drawing comfort from your sighs and the way you gasp his name. A groan emerges from him as you bear down on his tongue, grinding yourself against his gentle mouth. And only then does he quicken his pace, giving you what you need to drive you over the edge and plunging into ecstasy.

You can’t help but laugh a little as he raises his head to gaze at you. Giyuu always has the haziest, prettiest expression when he’s drunk on your pussy, and the war hasn’t changed that one bit. His cheeks are flushed pink, his lips glossy with your slick arousal. 

He gets back onto the bed, lying face-to-face beside you and guides your thigh over his waist, angling his hips so he can enter you. He sets a languid rhythm, kissing you the entire time, his cock only entering you halfway so he can make it last as long as possible. He fought through hell to be here with you and he’s going to make sure he cherishes every second.

“You’re… so wet…” he gasps against your lips.

You try to bite back a grin and fail. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you fuck the water hashira.”

Giyuu’s composure breaks and he laughs–really laughs–resting his forehead against your chest. “I love you.”

Gods, what a world this is; that you get to love him, that you have the luxury of time to stop and laugh together in the middle of sex. Giyuu has such an adorably boyish laugh too; one which crinkles his nose and shakes his shoulders. It’s a sound you want to hear a billion times more over the course of your life and a sight you will never tire of.

“I love you too, Giyuu. I always will.”

He’s still chuckling until he rolls you onto your back and presses himself deeper, wiping the smiles from both your faces as pleasure drowns out your amusement. The delicious stretch pulls a groan from you, and when he starts to roll his hips you can’t help but cry out. The control he has over his body is breathtaking, and the loss of his arm doesn’t hinder him at all as he has you wrap your legs around his waist and fucks you hard and deep, filling the room with the lewd symphony of slapping flesh and your wanton cries.

Every time before, he has pulled out of you, both of you unwilling to bring a child into the world when each tomorrow was so precarious. But now he presses deeper, his eyes alight with new possibility, and love like he never allowed himself to believe in. He groans as he fills you, resting his head between your breasts and listening to the thundering rhythm of your heart as you wrap your arms around him and hold him through his orgasm. 

And then you lie together in the aftermath; just you and Giyuu at the end and the beginning of it all.

[luxaofhesperides]

Please continue ghostlights multiverse constant au with Earth 0 having a happy ending together cuz halfa Danny is impossible to really kill anymore pleaseeeeeee 😭

(part one)

Danny is destined to die once he meets Duke. He knows this; he’s seen how their friendship leads to Danny’s death is so many different lives. There’s no doubt in his mind that the only way to ensure Danny lives a long life is to stay away from him.

Which is why the universe decides to make Danny pop up constantly. It’s clearly trying to get him killed, and Duke refuses to let that happen!

It starts innocently enough. They cross paths briefly at a bus stop, bumping into each other as Duke gets off the bus and Danny moves to go on it. He recognizes Danny immediately, feels a little spark go through him when their shoulders brush against each other. Something in him says I know you. I miss you.

He pulls back a step and offers a quick apology. Danny waves it off and looks at him as through searching for something. He opens his mouth to say something, but Duke can feel the threads of fate tighten around their throats and hurries away. 

He waits until he hears the bus pull away, then glances behind him to watch it go before he slows down to a normal walking pace and heads for the mall where he planned to meet his friends. 

Duke’s heart pounds in his chest. He can’t get Danny’s eyes out of his head; so painfully blue, so nostalgic, so doomed. 

This is for the best, he reminds himself. This is so Danny can live. That’s all that matters.

The moment’s passed, anyways. They’re still strangers, and they’ll stay that way. 

He takes another minute to collect himself, then plasters on a smile and heads into the mall to find his friends.

The next six times, Duke has to save Danny as the Signal, appearing just in time to stop a mugging, an armed store robbery, a car trying to run Danny over, and fighting off Man-Bat who, for some reason, took one look at Danny and went fuck this guy, actually.

Duke is stressed. He’s Stressed™ and if anyone tries to take out Danny again he’s just going to start screaming. 

For whatever reason, the universe is just out to get Danny now that they’ve run into each other once. Duke’s life is a cosmic joke, and he’s stuck in the center of it all waiting for the moment comedy turns into tragedy. 

It’s gotten to the point that Duke expects to find Danny in some sort of dangerous situation as soon as he starts patrol. He’s starting to dread going out, but he needs to; Gotham needs the Signal to keep the streets safe during the day, and Danny needs Duke to save his incredibly unlucky ass nearly every single day.

The first two hours go fine. He stops an armed robbery and a car jacking, chases away some creeps from the working girls, and gets a blueberry muffin from the bakery that’s been around forever, on account of the old woman running it thinking he’s a good lad who needs to eat more.

Duke begins to hope that he’ll have a quiet patrol. He begins to hope that Danny is safe and not in mortal danger for once.

His hopes are immediately dashed when he spots Danny on a rooftop, standing way too close to the edge.

Heart in his throat, Duke crosses the space between them in an instant, slingshotting himself forward through shadows.

He intends to pull Danny back, to say something, to try and shake some common sense into him so he actually has a chance at living a long life. Duke doesn’t get to do any of that; as soon as he steps out of the shadows, Danny turns to face him with a tired smile.

“There you are,” he says. “I knew you’d find me.”

“What? I—listen, can you step back from the ledge for me?”

Danny steps back, keeping his eyes on Duke. He doesn’t seem to mind that the Signal is so hesitant in this moment, keeping his distance. 

“I wasn’t sure at first,” he says, as if he never stopped talking, “But I had a feeling. You’ve probably had it too, right? It’s why we keep being pushed together, and why my luck has been so awful ever since I came to Gotham.”

He knows, is the first thing Duke things. But how can that be? If Danny knows about all those other universes where they had each other, then he knows how it ends. If he knows, then he should be trying to keep his distance from both Duke and the Signal before he gets killed.

“It’s you under that mask, isn’t it? Duke.”

The way Danny says his name brings him back to all those other lives where they had each other from the start. He sounds so sure of himself, as if he’s always known Duke.

It’s only when Duke says, “How?” that Danny falters, fear briefly crossing his expression before it settles into something more neutral. His fingers begin to pull at the cuffs of his jacket sleeves, confidence melting away. 

“Do you… not know me?”

The quietness of his voice, the fragility of it, breaks Duke’s heart. He doesn’t stop to think before he answers, “I know you. Of course I know you, Danny.” Then he blinks, shakes his head, and says, “Wait. No. I know of you. We haven’t really met this life.”

“It’s the dreams, right? They make things so confusing.”

“You’ve been getting them too?”

“I may be the cause of them,” Danny says with a wince. “Due to some, uh… ghostly magic shenanigans. It wasn’t on purpose! But it is kinda my fault.”

Ghostly magic? Okay, sure, why not. Who is Duke to judge the bizarre things that exist in their world. He has superpowers and his biological father is an evil immortal. He has absolutely no leg to stand on when it cames to the weird and the unexpected. Might as well roll with it, since this is his life now.

Besides, there’s more important things to focus on, such as: “Okay, so, just to be on the same page, you’ve been getting the same dreams as me, yeah? The ones where you always die? Those dreams?”

And Danny, very casually, answers, “Yeah.”

“Dude,” Duke says, pained, “If you know that meeting me leads to your death, then why are you seeking me out?!”

“What?”

“Have you not seen how you die young in every single universe? Because I have! And it’s messing me up!”

Danny blinks at him, then looks guilty, hunching in on himself. “Oh, yeah. That. Uh, yeah, so…” he trails off and bites his lip, gaze kept downwards so he doesn’t have to meet Duke’s eyes. “I do die young always, yeah, but it’s totally not your fault! I just do that!”

“You just do that,” Duke repeats, pained. 

“Yeah. I just die young.”

“Is this somehow not a problem for you.”

To his immense displeasure, Danny has the nerve to shrug and say, “Eh, not really.”

“Danny.”

“It’s okay! Really!” Danny says, a little frantically, “And also it has nothing to do with you! None of my deaths have been your fault, it’s just a thing that happens to me!” And then, in a quiet, rushed mumble, “Also I already died in this universe so it’s fine.”

A strangled sound bursts out of Duke’s throat as he tries very hard not to start yelling. He puts his head in his hands and holds back a heavy sigh because the boy of his literal dreams is stressing him out so much he’s about to dissolve into ashes and ascend to a higher realm where he has no worries. 

Unfortunately, he’s not quite there yet, so Duke has to deal with living in the reality where Danny admits he already died because that’s just what he does: die young. 

Which is, apparently, not Duke’s fault at all. Cool. 

Cool cool cool. He’s definitely not going to have a breakdown about this.

A hand gently tugs on his wrist, making him lift his head to meet Danny’s worried gaze. “Hey, you alright? Do you wanna sit down for a minute?”

And you know what? Duke does want to sit down for a minute. He’s earned it. 

He nods, and Danny carefully guides him back to where the roof access door is, so they can sit with their backs against something and be away from the edge where curious eyes might spot them. It feels easy, practiced, as if they’ve done this a thousand times before instead of just now having their first conversation. Their lives have been linked and twisted together, though only for a short time before death takes Danny away. 

He knows Danny, despite how illogical it is, and that’s what makes him take off his helmet and exposure his face to the world. 

Danny knows him too, after all. 

There is no hiding from someone who is meant to be in his life.

Danny’s smiling softly when he turns to look at him. “Hey, Duke. It’s good to see you properly. Is it weird to say that I’ve missed you even though we’ve technically never met in this life?”

“Nah,” he replies, “I missed you too. Please stop scaring me like that.”

“I make no promises. Expect for this: dying won’t take me away from you in this life. I’ve got it handled.”

“I don’t… I don’t think that’s someone anyone can have handled.”

“I’ve got it handled,” Danny repeats firmly. 

Duke shakes his head with a small laugh. He got so caught up in the guilt of leading to Danny’s death, of being unable to save him, of losing  him in every universe, that he forgot how stubborn Danny is. 

It is a weight off his chest, though. To know that it wasn’t his fault. To know that the worst has already come to pass long before they met in this universe, so they don’t have to fear the future together. 

“So,” he says, “Tell me more about these magical ghostly shenanigans?”

“At least wait until the second date for personal questions,” Danny jokes.

“Okay. Wanna grab dinner tonight?”

It’s nice to see that Danny blushes easily in this universe too. “Isn’t that moving a little fast?”

“We’ve been dreaming about a bunch of other universes where we’re together. We know each other even though we don’t know each other. We’re well past moving fast, dude.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Danny nods. “Alright. Dinner tonight, then. Take me to the best place for breakfast foods in Gotham. I’ve been craving pancakes all week.”

“Sure, I can do that. Mind giving me your number so I can figure out where to pick you up from?”

Danny nods and begins patting his pockets in search of… something. Duke means to grab his phone and hand it to Danny to get his number, but he’s quickly distracted as Danny gives up on his pockets and shoves a hand directly into his own chest. 

Ghostly magic shenanigans. This is probably part of it?  Danny doesn’t look alarmed by this at all, so Duke rolls with it and shoves away his shock at the sight. 

“Aha!” Danny holds up a sharpie in triumph. He sure did pull that straight out of his ribcage. Duke is so chill with it. 

He lets Danny take hold of his arm, removing a wrist gauntlet so he can write on the skin. The cool ink of the sharpie makes him shiver, but otherwise, he stays still. Danny writes carefully, in smooth movements. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds, then he pulls the sharpie away and blows a surprisingly cold breath against Duke’s wrist to help the ink dry faster.

“There we go,” he says with a smile. “Let me know when you wanna have our date, okay? I’m free whenever, so don’t worry about accommodating me or anything.

“I’ll text you once I’m ready,” Duke agrees. He stands up, looking over the numbers written on his wrist. He memorizes them, then puts his wrist gauntlet back on. It’s about time for him to get back to being the Signal, as much as he hates to leave Danny here when they’ve finally been able to have a quiet moment to themselves. 

“I’ll see you later, then.” Danny hesitates, then leans forward and presses a quick, chaste kiss against Duke’s cheek. Duke blinks at him, stunned, his heart skipping a beat. 

He doesn’t get the chance to return the gesture; Danny flushes red, backs up a few steps with a shy grin, and says, “Okay, bye Duke! Stay safe out there!” And then he’s gone, blinking out of sight, and it’s only his meta powers that let him see a faint wispy outline where Danny was. 

It moves, floating up in the air, then flies away like smoke in the breeze. 

Ah, Duke thinks, Ghostly. He’s a ghost. I’ll worry about that later.

His fingers brush against the spot where Danny kissed him. Then he puts his helmet back on and focuses on swinging through the streets of Gotham, ready for anything. 

The sooner he gets done with patrol, the better, after all. He needs all his focus to do that so he can start getting ready for his date with Danny, the literal boy of his dreams. 

This time, this life, this universe, they’re gonna do it right. They’ll make up for all the time their other selves lost. They’ll cherish every minute together, one pancake date at a time.

And to think, it only took a couple dozen different lives to get here.

[amethystarachnid]

PLEASE PLEASE pt 3 of “New Years Eve” that promise ring turning into a engagement ring one day 😍 that whole thing about marriage was so cute 😍 and I bet their parents would love some grandbabies 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

NEW YEAR EVE - part III

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Young!Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Timeline: they just finished college

ᯓ★ Word count: 7k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said + a little surprise at the end

ᯓ★ TW(s): some spicy scenes but nothing explicit

ᯓ★ Part I | Part II | Part IV

ᯓ★ Tony taglist: @groovy-lady

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The years after college blur together in a whirlwind of late nights, ambitious projects, and the exhilarating rush of success. Both of you have poured yourselves into your respective careers, with Tony inevitably making waves in the tech world and you earning accolades for your groundbreaking work in sustainable technology. It’s not just that you’re making money—you’re thriving.

The first time Tony mentions moving into a better apartment, you brush it off. “This place isn’t so bad,” you tell him, running your fingers along the slightly warped kitchen counter that has seen better days. “It’s home.”

But Tony, being Tony, raises an eyebrow and grins. “Home is wherever you are, babe. But let’s be real—this place is one squeaky pipe away from falling apart. We can do better.”

He’s right, of course. You’ve both outgrown the cramped space, and within a week, he’s already scouted a stunning loft downtown. It’s the kind of apartment you used to joke about owning someday, with floor-to-ceiling windows, sleek modern finishes, and a view of the city that takes your breath away every time you look out.

Moving day is chaotic but fun. Tony insists on carrying the heaviest boxes himself, only to dramatically collapse onto the couch the moment you’re done unpacking. “I think I pulled something,” he groans, draping an arm over his forehead like a damsel in distress.

You laugh, nudging his leg with your foot. “That’s what you get for refusing to hire movers.”

“Movers wouldn’t have handled your plants with the same care,” he retorts, gesturing toward the cluster of greenery you’ve already set up in one corner.

“They’re fake plants, Tony.”

“They still deserve respect.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. The apartment already feels like yours, like it’s filled with the little quirks and comforts that make up your life together.

The first night in the new place is magical. You order takeout and eat it on the floor, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes. Tony lights candles he insists are for ambiance, though he nearly sets one of your sleeves on fire while adjusting them.

Later, as the city lights twinkle outside, you’re lying on the massive new bed, wrapped up in each other. Tony’s fingers trail lazily over your bare shoulder as he murmurs, “You know, this is just the beginning. You and me, we’re gonna build something incredible.”

“You mean more plants?” you tease, but your voice is soft, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his tone.

“I’m serious,” he says, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. “Everything we’ve done so far—college, work, this place—it’s just the start. I want… everything with you. A house someday, a family, all of it.”

Your breath catches at the intensity in his eyes, and you nod, unable to find the right words. Instead, you pull him down for a kiss, one that deepens quickly, becoming a slow, burning exchange that leaves you both breathless.

The days in the new apartment settle into a comfortable rhythm. You cook together when you’re not working late, Tony’s attempts at chopping vegetables often ending with him grinning sheepishly as you take over. You spend lazy Sunday mornings tangled in bed, the sunlight streaming in through the windows as Tony refuses to let you get up.

One day, while you’re perched on a ladder trying to hang curtains, Tony comes up behind you, his hands steadying your waist. “Careful, future wife,” he says casually, and the words make you laugh despite the way your heart flips at how easily he throws them out.

“You can’t just call me that whenever you want, you know,” you tease, glancing down at him.

“Why not? It’s gonna be true eventually,” he replies with a smirk.

It becomes a running joke—or at least, you think it’s a joke. Every time he calls you “future wife” or “fiancée,” you roll your eyes, but the warmth in his voice always makes your stomach flutter.

One evening, after a long day at work, Tony insists on taking you out to dinner. He doesn’t say much about where you’re going, only that it’s “a surprise.” You’re too tired to argue, so you let him whisk you away in his sleek new car, the city lights blurring past the windows.

When you arrive, the restaurant is breathtaking. It’s perched on a rooftop, with a view of the skyline that rivals even your apartment’s. The table Tony reserved is tucked into a private corner, surrounded by twinkling fairy lights and soft candlelight.

“Wow,” you breathe as you take it all in.

“Only the best for you,” Tony says, grinning as he pulls out your chair.

The evening is perfect—great food, soft music, and Tony at his most charming. He’s in an unusually reflective mood, reminiscing about your college days and all the milestones you’ve hit since then.

As dessert arrives, your favorite kind of cake, Tony clears his throat. His usual bravado falters slightly, and you can tell he’s nervous.

“Okay, so,” he begins, reaching into his pocket. Your heart starts to race because you can already guess what’s coming.

“Tony…”

“Wait, let me do this right,” he says, cutting you off with a crooked smile. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I wanted to wait until the timing was perfect, but honestly, every day with you feels perfect, so why wait anymore?”

He pulls out a small velvet box and opens it to reveal a stunning diamond ring, its delicate design exactly the kind of understated elegance you’d imagined.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. “You’re my everything. My partner, my best friend, my future. Will you marry me?”

Tears spill down your cheeks as you nod, too overwhelmed to speak at first. “Yes,” you finally manage, your voice breaking. “Of course, yes.”

Tony slips the ring onto your finger, then stands to pull you into a tight embrace. The restaurant staff applauds, but all you can hear is the pounding of your heart and the soft murmurs of love from Tony as he holds you close.

That night, back at the apartment, you can’t keep your hands off each other. The passion between you is electric, charged with the promise of forever. Tony’s kisses are fervent, his touch reverent, and the way he whispers “fiancée” against your skin sends shivers down your spine.

As you lie together afterward, your head resting on his chest, you glance down at the ring on your finger. It glints softly in the low light, a tangible symbol of the love and commitment you share.

Tony presses a kiss to your temple, his voice soft as he murmurs, “So… when do you want to start planning this wedding?”

You laugh, snuggling closer. “Let’s enjoy being engaged for a little while first.”

“Deal,” he says, wrapping his arms around you.

And as you drift off to sleep, you know that whatever the future holds, you’ll face it together, hand in hand.

Organizing a dinner for both sets of parents feels like a bigger event than either of you expected. Tony insists on handling the arrangements, booking a private dining room at one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. “It’s not every day we drop life-changing news on them,” he says with a grin, leaning against the counter as you look over the guest list.

The dinner is scheduled for a Saturday evening, giving you just enough time to overthink every possible outcome. You’re nervous—not because you think the news will go badly, but because there’s something so monumental about the idea of your families sitting together, your lives becoming that much more intertwined.

When the night arrives, the private dining room is elegant but welcoming, the table set with crisp linens and softly glowing candles. Tony is uncharacteristically fidgety, straightening his tie every few minutes and checking his watch.

“Relax,” you say, taking his hand. “They’re going to love this.”

“I know,” he replies, flashing you a crooked smile. “But I also know my dad. He’s going to make a scene about something, and I want to be ready for it.”

You squeeze his hand, grounding him. “We’ll handle it. Together.”

The first to arrive are your mom and younger brother. Your mom beams as soon as she sees you, pulling you into a tight hug while your brother mutters a teasing comment about how fancy everything looks.

Tony’s parents arrive shortly after, Howard looking as stately as ever while Maria radiates warmth. They greet your family politely, Maria exchanging pleasantries with your mom as if they’ve known each other for years.

As everyone takes their seats, the conversation flows surprisingly smoothly. Your mom and Maria bond over shared stories of raising their children, while Howard listens intently to your brother talk about his plans for college. Tony, ever the charmer, keeps things light and entertaining, ensuring there’s never a dull moment.

Once the main courses are cleared, Tony catches your eye and nods subtly. You take a deep breath, your heart racing as you prepare to share the news.

“So,” Tony begins, leaning forward slightly, “we have something we want to tell you all.”

Maria’s eyes light up, and she immediately clasps her hands together. “Oh my goodness, are you… are you having a baby?”

The question catches you so off guard that you almost choke on your water. “What? No!”

Your mom gasps, her expression flipping from surprise to amusement as she laughs. “Maria, let them finish!”

Tony, meanwhile, looks like he’s having the time of his life. “Not yet,” he says with a playful smirk, “but I’ll let you know when we get there. No, the news is…” He takes your hand in his, lifting it slightly so everyone can see the ring on your finger. “We’re engaged.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then the room erupts into cheers and congratulations. Maria is on her feet in seconds, hugging you tightly while your mom dabs at her eyes with a napkin. Howard stands and shakes Tony’s hand, the closest thing to emotional you’ve ever seen him, while your brother teases Tony about finally making an honest woman out of you.

“You kept this a secret?” Maria asks, pulling back to look at you with mock outrage. “How could you not tell me immediately?”

“It only just happened,” you explain, laughing. “We wanted to share it with you all together.”

Howard claps Tony on the shoulder, his voice gruff but approving. “You’ve done well, son. You’ve made your choice, and it’s a good one.”

Tony’s grin is soft, his gaze flickering toward you. “Yeah, I think so too.”

The conversation turns lively as everyone begins asking questions about the wedding. When will it be? Where will it be? How big is the guest list?

“We’re still figuring all that out,” you say, glancing at Tony for confirmation. “We wanted to enjoy being engaged for a little while first.”

Maria nods, her smile warm. “That’s wise. There’s no need to rush. But if you need help with anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Weddings are such beautiful celebrations, and I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

Howard, however, clears his throat, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Now that you’re taking this step, Tony, it’s time we talk about the family business.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, clearly curious but cautious. “What about it?”

“It’s time for you to have access,” Howard says simply. “You’ve proven yourself—your success in college, the work you’ve done since then, the way you’ve taken responsibility for your life. I think you’re ready to start taking on more.”

Tony looks stunned for a moment, the weight of his father’s words sinking in. You can see the mix of pride and determination in his expression as he nods. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” Howard replies.

Maria, ever the peacemaker, redirects the conversation with a bright smile. “And while we’re on the subject of family… I hope you know we’ll be expecting grand-babies someday. No pressure, of course.”

Your mom laughs, joining in the teasing. “Oh, absolutely. I’d love to spoil some grandchildren. But, like Maria said—no pressure.”

Tony grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Well, don’t hold your breath. We’ve got a wedding to plan first.”

The rest of the evening is filled with laughter and stories, the kind of warmth that makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world. As the night winds down, Maria pulls you aside, her eyes soft as she says, “I’m so happy for you both. You’re perfect for each other.”

“Thank you,” you reply, your voice thick with emotion. “That means so much to me.”

By the time you and Tony get home, you’re both buzzing from the success of the night. Tony kicks off his shoes and pulls you into a slow, lingering kiss, his hands warm against your back.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours.

“So are you,” you reply, threading your fingers through his hair.

The night ends in a tangle of sheets and whispered promises, the kind of passion that reminds you why you said yes in the first place. As you fall asleep in his arms, the future feels brighter than ever, full of love, laughter, and the shared dreams you’re building together.

Planning the wedding starts almost immediately after the engagement dinner. Maria, ever the enthusiast, insists on helping, and while Tony initially tries to claim he doesn’t care about the details, he quickly gets invested in anything that allows him to be over the top.

“Let’s rent out a castle,” he suggests one evening, sprawled out on the couch with you as you scroll through wedding venues.

You snort. “A castle? In New York? Sure, Tony, let me just call up my royal connections.”

He smirks. “Hey, I’m just saying, Stark and future Stark deserve a wedding that screams power couple.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. “How about something a little less medieval? Something classy, but not ‘Tony Stark just bought an island’ level of extravagant?”

After weeks of searching, you finally settle on a stunning estate just outside the city. It has everything—a grand ballroom, a breathtaking garden for the ceremony, and enough space to accommodate both your families and the absurd number of people Tony insists on inviting.

Next comes the dress shopping, and it’s the one thing Tony is explicitly banned from seeing.

“You know,” he teases as you head out with Maria and your mom for the fitting, “I could totally hack into the bridal shop’s database and—”

“Don’t you dare,” you warn, pointing a finger at him. “This is the one tradition we’re sticking to.”

He sighs dramatically. “Fine. But if I die from the suspense, just know it’s on you.”

Shopping for the dress is an emotional experience. Your mom wipes away tears every time you step out in a new gown, and Maria makes sure you’re getting nothing but the best. After trying on at least a dozen dresses, you finally find the one. It’s perfect—elegant, timeless, and when you see yourself in the mirror, you can actually picture yourself walking down the aisle to Tony.

Meanwhile, Tony takes it upon himself to handle the cake tasting. “You don’t even like cake,” you remind him when he schedules five different bakery appointments.

“I like this cake,” he argues, stuffing a bite of red velvet into his mouth. “Besides, I’m doing my duty as a supportive fiancé. Can’t let my future wife eat subpar cake on our big day.”

The cake is ultimately decided—a mix of flavors to satisfy both of you, with a stunning design that Tony jokingly suggests should have “Stark Industries” written in gold across the front.

Between booking florists, hiring musicians, and designing invitations, the months fly by. Everything is falling into place, and with only five months left until the wedding, you feel like you’re finally getting everything under control.

Then you miss your period.

At first, you brush it off. Stress, excitement—there are a million reasons your cycle might be off. But as the days pass, the nagging thought in the back of your mind won’t go away. It takes you another week to finally go out and buy a test, and when the little plus sign appears, you almost drop it in shock.

You’re pregnant.

You sit on the bathroom floor for a long time, trying to process the news. It’s not bad news—not at all. But it changes things. And Tony. You have no idea how Tony is going to react.

That’s when a devilish idea strikes. You decide to make it as dramatic as possible.

That evening, you sit Tony down on the couch, taking his hands in yours with a somber expression.

“We need to talk,” you say, keeping your voice serious.

Tony immediately straightens, his playful smirk fading. “Uh-oh. What did I do?”

You bite your lip, forcing yourself to keep a straight face. “I think… I think we need to cancel the wedding.”

His entire body tenses. “What?”

“Or at least push it back,” you continue, watching the panic set in. “I just don’t think I can do it, Tony.”

His eyes widen in sheer horror. “What?! What did I do? I—Was it the thing with the catering? Because I swear, I didn’t actually mean to offend the guy, I was just saying that sushi is a risky—”

“Tony.” You grip his hands tighter, trying so hard not to laugh at how distraught he looks. “It’s not that.”

“Then what? Do you—do you not want to get married?” His voice is suddenly quieter, more vulnerable, and your heart clenches.

You let out a dramatic sigh before finally giving him the truth. “I just… I don’t want to walk down the aisle looking like a balloon.”

There’s a beat of silence. Tony blinks. His eyebrows furrow. Then realization dawns.

He glances at your stomach, then back at you. “Wait. Wait. Are you—are you saying—?”

You nod, biting your lip. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, he’s completely still. Then his eyes widen, and he lets out a strangled sound, somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. “You’re pregnant?!”

You barely have time to react before he’s pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your shoulder. You feel his chest rise and fall in a shaky breath, and when he pulls back, his eyes are glossy with unshed tears.

“You’re serious?” he asks, his voice cracking.

You nod again, and he lets out a breathless laugh, cupping your face in his hands. “We’re having a baby?”

“We’re having a baby,” you confirm, grinning.

That’s when the tears actually spill over. Tony Stark—genius, billionaire, self-proclaimed coolest guy ever—is crying. Happy, overwhelmed tears.

He presses kisses all over your face, whispering, “I love you. I love you so much. We’re having a baby. Oh my God.”

Then, suddenly, he freezes. “Wait. You let me think you were canceling the wedding?”

You burst into laughter. “I had to make it dramatic!”

He groans, burying his face in your neck again. “You’re the worst. The worst.”

But you can feel the way he’s smiling against your skin. His hands find their way to your stomach, resting there gently, reverently. “I can’t believe this,” he murmurs. “I get to marry you, and we’re going to have a kid.”

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close. “I love you.”

He lifts his head, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you too. And for the record, I don’t care when we get married. Pregnant, not pregnant—you’d be the most beautiful bride either way.”

Your heart melts. “Smooth, Stark.”

“Always.”

That night, he’s extra affectionate—his hands never leave your stomach, even as things grow more heated between you. It’s different this time—more intense, more meaningful. Every kiss, every touch is filled with love and excitement for the future.

And as you fall asleep in his arms, one thought lingers in your mind:

This is just the beginning.

Telling Tony had been fun. Telling your parents? That was going to be legendary.

Tony had insisted that if you were going to be dramatic with him, then you both had to be dramatic with your families. It was only fair. And honestly? You were completely on board.

So, a week later, you and Tony invite both sets of parents to dinner at your place. Maria and Howard arrive first, looking elegant as always, while your mom and brother walk in a little more casual but just as curious. Everyone settles around the dining table, making polite conversation, but you and Tony exchange glances.

It’s time.

Tony clears his throat, tapping his fork against his glass as if he’s making a wedding toast. “We’ve gathered you all here today for a very important announcement.”

Maria straightens in her chair, her eyes flickering between the two of you. “Oh? Is this about the wedding?”

“Actually…” You take a deep breath, biting back a smile. “It’s about the wedding date.”

Your mom frowns. “What about it?”

You sigh dramatically. “We’re thinking of postponing it.”

There’s a beat of silence before chaos erupts.

“What?!” Maria exclaims, sitting up straighter.

Howard raises an eyebrow but remains quiet, waiting for an explanation.

Your mom immediately turns to Tony. “What did you do?”

Your brother, completely missing the tension in the room, shoves another piece of bread into his mouth. “Did she finally realize she’s too good for you?”

“Hey!” Tony glares at him before turning back to the group. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Then why postpone it?” Maria presses, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

You exchange another glance with Tony, your lips twitching. “It’s just… I don’t want to walk down the aisle looking like a balloon.”

More silence. Then—

Maria gasps.

Howard chokes on his drink.

Your mom’s eyes widen.

Your brother? Still eating.

Maria is the first to recover. “Are you—” Her voice catches. “Are you saying—?”

Tony grins, wrapping an arm around you. “We’re having a baby.”

The room erupts again, but this time with joy. Maria lets out a small, delighted shriek, covering her mouth as her eyes well up. Your mom jumps out of her seat to hug you, already crying. Howard claps Tony on the back, murmuring something about how he’d better be ready to be a dad.

Your brother finally stops eating long enough to blink at you. “Wait. You’re pregnant?”

Tony smirks. “Way to keep up, buddy.”

Your brother shrugs. “Cool. Can I name it?”

Your mom glares at him. “Absolutely not.”

Maria, meanwhile, is already in full planning mode. “We need to start thinking about a nursery! And have you been to the doctor yet? When’s your first ultrasound?”

Your mom nods eagerly. “And have you thought about names? Do you know the gender yet?”

You laugh, overwhelmed but incredibly happy. “It’s still really early. We just found out last week.”

Howard, despite his usual reserved nature, is smiling. “Well, I suppose this means I’ll finally get to be a grandfather. Stark Enterprises will have an heir.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Relax, Dad. We’re not raising the next CEO in the womb.”

Howard smirks. “We’ll see.”

Maria wipes away a tear before reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “This is wonderful news, sweetheart. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”

Your mom nods. “And Tony—” she gives him a look “—you’d better take good care of her.”

Tony places a hand over his heart. “Always.”

Your brother, not one to be left out, finally grins. “So, when do I start teaching the kid how to throw a football?”

Tony scoffs. “Oh, please. If anything, I’ll be the one teaching them engineering before they can even walk.”

Your mom groans. “God help this child.”

The rest of the night is spent talking about the baby, the wedding, and how this little life growing inside of you is already so loved.

And as Tony squeezes your hand under the table, you know that no matter what happens next, you’ll be doing it together.

Tony insists on driving even though the doctor's office isn’t far. His fingers drum anxiously against the steering wheel at every red light, his eyes flicking to you every few seconds as if you might suddenly need something. You try not to laugh, because honestly, it's sweet seeing him like this, but you also don’t want to encourage his nerves.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the leather if you keep doing that,” you say, nodding toward his tapping fingers.

Tony stops immediately, flexes his hands, then grips the wheel tighter. “I’m fine.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“I just… I mean, yeah. I’m good.” He clears his throat, shifting in his seat. “Totally cool.”

He’s totally not cool.

By the time you get to the clinic, Tony’s opened your car door before you’ve even unbuckled your seatbelt. He hovers close as you step out, his hand automatically going to your lower back. The waiting room is quiet, the receptionist offering a warm smile as she checks you in.

Tony, however, looks ready to interrogate the entire staff.

“They know what they’re doing here, right?” he murmurs as you both take a seat.

You give him a look. “Tony. We have the best doctor in the city.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says, exhaling sharply. “But still.”

You take his hand, squeezing it. He squeezes back, his knee bouncing slightly.

When your name is called, Tony stands faster than you do, helping you up like you suddenly can’t walk on your own. The nurse leads you into the exam room, and as you sit on the table, Tony remains standing, arms crossed, eyes scanning every medical instrument like he’s memorizing them for later questioning.

The doctor enters with a warm smile, introducing herself even though you both already know who she is. She’s friendly, experienced, and exactly the kind of person you’d hoped for.

“So,” she says, glancing between you and Tony. “First pregnancy?”

Tony nods before you can even answer. “Yeah. And we want to make sure everything’s perfect. No mistakes.”

The doctor chuckles. “Well, we’ll do our best to make sure everything goes smoothly. Let’s start with some basics.”

She asks a few routine questions, goes over dietary recommendations, and gives you a list of vitamins. Tony takes mental notes like he’s going to be quizzed on them later. Then comes the part that makes your heart race a little—the first ultrasound.

The doctor sets everything up, explaining what she’s doing, and as the screen flickers to life, you grip Tony’s hand tightly. He’s holding his breath, eyes locked on the monitor.

“There’s the little one,” the doctor says, pointing.

Tony freezes. “Wait. That’s it?”

You blink at the tiny dot on the screen. It doesn’t look like much yet, but your heart swells at the sight.

The doctor nods. “That’s your baby.”

Tony doesn’t speak for a moment, just stares at the screen, his jaw slack. Then he exhales a breathless laugh. “Holy shit.”

You squeeze his hand. “Pretty amazing, huh?”

Tony swallows hard, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

The doctor prints out a few images for you, goes over some final instructions, and schedules your next appointment. As you leave, Tony holds onto the ultrasound pictures like they’re the most valuable thing he’s ever owned.

The ride home is quieter, but not in a bad way. Tony keeps sneaking glances at the pictures in his hand, his expression unreadable.

When you finally step inside your apartment, Tony immediately goes into full protective mode.

“Okay,” he says, setting the pictures carefully on the counter. “New rules. You don’t lift anything heavy. No more stress. We’re eating all the right foods. And I’m handling everything, so you just have to sit back and relax.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Tony—”

“I’m serious.” He steps closer, hands on your shoulders. “You need anything, anything, you tell me. I don’t care if it’s two in the morning and you suddenly want ice cream from across the city. I’m getting it.”

You smile, leaning into him. “You’re already the best dad ever.”

Tony smirks. “Damn right I am.”

That night, as you get into bed, Tony’s arms automatically wrap around you, holding you close. But then, to your surprise, he shifts, propping himself up slightly.

Then he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your stomach.

“Hey, kid,” he murmurs. “It’s me. Your ridiculously cool dad.”

You bite your lip, watching him with warmth in your chest.

“I know you’re not really doing much yet,” Tony continues, his fingers brushing your skin. “But I just want you to know we’re already so freaking excited about you. And I promise I’m gonna be the best dad ever. Just, you know, give me a heads-up before you decide to make your grand entrance, alright?”

You laugh softly, running your fingers through his hair. “Talking to them already?”

Tony grins up at you. “Of course. Gotta make sure they know how awesome their life is gonna be.”

You cup his cheek, bringing him up to kiss you. “I love you, you know that?”

Tony smiles against your lips. “Yeah. And I love you too. Both of you.”

As he settles back down, arms still wrapped protectively around you, you know that no matter what comes next, you’re going to be okay. Because you have Tony. And he’s already proving to be the best partner and father you could ever ask for.

Tony has been obsessed with your belly ever since it started showing. It’s a slow change at first, a slight curve that he constantly traces his fingers over at night, but by the time you hit five months, there’s no hiding it anymore. You’re officially pregnant pregnant, and Tony takes it upon himself to remind you every chance he gets.

"Look at you," he says one morning, standing behind you as you stare at yourself in the mirror. His hands rest on your stomach, fingers splayed out like he can already feel the baby moving beneath them. "Absolutely stunning. My two favorite girls in one place."

You roll your eyes, but you can't fight the smile that tugs at your lips. "You don't even know if it's a girl yet."

Tony smirks. "I have a feeling."

The gender reveal party is his idea, of course. He wants something big, something dramatic, and naturally, he insists on making it a surprise for both of you. The only person who knows the gender is your younger brother, who’s taken his role as the secret keeper way too seriously.

The party itself is extravagant, but that’s to be expected. Tony doesn’t do anything halfway. Your families gather at a beautiful outdoor venue, decorated in both pink and blue, with tables full of food and an entire section dedicated to baby-themed desserts. There's even a betting board where guests can guess the gender, and Tony, confident as ever, has already placed his bet on a girl.

"You're going to lose," you tease as you watch him add another tally mark to the girl column.

Tony wraps an arm around your waist, resting his free hand on your belly. "No way. I know my daughter is in there."

"You mean our child."

"Our baby girl," he corrects, winking.

When it's finally time for the reveal, everyone gathers around, buzzing with excitement. Your brother stands off to the side, grinning mischievously as he sets everything up. The reveal method? A giant balloon filled with colored powder, because of course, Tony wanted something flashy.

"Alright, lovebirds," your brother calls. "Time to pop this thing and see if I'm getting a niece or a nephew."

Tony takes the pin in his hand and turns to you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ready, future Mrs. Stark?"

You shake your head at the unnecessary dramatics but nod, placing your hand over his. Together, you pop the balloon, and in an instant, a cloud of pink explodes into the air.

The crowd erupts into cheers, but all you hear is Tony's loud, triumphant "I KNEW IT!" as he lifts you into the air, spinning you around.

"A girl," you whisper, eyes wide with happiness. "We're having a little girl."

Tony sets you down, cupping your face in his hands. "I told you. I'm always right."

You laugh, smacking his chest lightly. "She's not even here yet, and you're already smug."

"Damn right." He kisses you, long and deep, before pulling away with a dazed smile. "I'm gonna spoil the hell out of this kid."

The rest of the party is a whirlwind of hugs, congratulations, and Tony gloating to anyone who will listen about how he knew it was a girl. Your families are ecstatic, Maria already talking about all the beautiful dresses she'll buy and Howard muttering about how another Stark genius is on the way. Your mom is in tears, overjoyed at the thought of having a granddaughter, and your brother looks relieved that his secret-keeping days are finally over.

A few days after the party, Tony springs another surprise on you—he's booked a pregnancy photoshoot.

"You're glowing," he insists when you try to protest. "We need to capture this moment."

So, despite your initial reluctance, you find yourself standing in a gorgeous studio, dressed in a flowing white gown that highlights your bump. The photographer is incredible, making you feel comfortable as she directs your poses, and after a few shots, you start to enjoy yourself.

Tony, of course, sits to the side, watching you with a look of pure awe.

"You look unreal," he murmurs when there's a break between shots.

You raise an eyebrow. "You say that like I’m an illusion."

He stands, walking over to you, his hands finding your belly. "You kind of are. You're carrying our baby. Do you know how insane that is?"

You smile softly, covering his hands with yours. "I think about it every day."

The photographer clears her throat. "Would you like to join in, Tony?"

Tony smirks. "Thought you'd never ask."

He changes into a button-down and slacks in record time, and before you know it, he's standing behind you, his hands resting on your belly as he presses a kiss to your temple. The photographer captures it perfectly.

"Alright," she says, directing you both into another pose. "Tony, can you kneel in front of her?"

Tony immediately drops to one knee, kissing your belly before resting his forehead against it. "Hey, baby girl," he whispers. "You're already the best thing to ever happen to me."

You blink back tears as the camera clicks, and at that moment, you know these photos will be some of your most cherished memories.

When the session is over, Tony doesn’t let go of you immediately. He keeps his hands on your belly, rubbing gentle circles. "You’re breathtaking," he murmurs.

You chuckle, resting your forehead against his. "I’m huge."

"You're perfect," he corrects. "And I’m madly in love with you."

You kiss him, slow and deep, your heart full.

Tony smirks against your lips. "So, what do you say we head home and continue celebrating our baby girl?"

You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny the way warmth spreads through your body at the suggestion. "You never stop, do you?"

"Not when it comes to you," he murmurs, his hands tightening around your waist.

And as he pulls you in for another kiss, you realize that no matter how much things change, one thing will always stay the same—Tony Stark is completely and utterly in love with you.

ony is pacing.

He never paces.

But right now, as you grip his hand with enough strength to cut off circulation, as doctors and nurses move around you in a blur, as the reality of what’s happening fully settles in—he can’t help himself.

You’re in labor. His baby is about to arrive.

And despite all the months of preparation, of books he skimmed through, of doctor’s appointments he never missed, of baby-proofing the penthouse like a madman—he is terrified.

"You're doing great, sweetheart," he says, though his voice is slightly panicked. His other hand wipes sweat from your forehead, his thumb brushing over your temple. "So great. The best. Ten out of ten. Would recommend."

You shoot him a look between contractions, your face contorted in pain. "Tony—if you don’t shut up—"

"Right, yeah. Shutting up."

He doesn’t, though. He keeps whispering encouragements, keeps pressing kisses to your knuckles, keeps trying not to freak out because you are pushing his daughter into the world, and holy hell, he has never loved you more than in this moment.

And then it happens.

A tiny, sharp cry pierces through the room, cutting through the chaos, silencing everything else.

Tony stops breathing.

The doctors move quickly, cleaning her up, wrapping her in a soft pink blanket. The moment they place her in your arms, everything in the world shifts.

She is perfect.

"Layla," you whisper, your voice full of awe.

Tony sits beside you, eyes locked on the little face peeking out from the blanket. She is so small, so delicate, with dark tufts of hair and the softest little hands that flex in the air. His heart is hammering in his chest, and when she lets out a tiny sigh, he is officially a goner.

"She’s—she’s so beautiful," he breathes, reaching out a trembling hand to stroke her cheek. "She looks just like you."

You laugh softly, tired but happy. "I think she has your nose."

Tony swipes at his eyes, overwhelmed. "She’s gonna be a menace, just like her dad."

"God help us."

When the nurses take her for a moment to check her vitals, Tony watches them like a hawk. His protective instincts are already in overdrive. The second they hand her back, he doesn’t hesitate.

"Can I—?" His voice is rough, full of emotion.

You nod, carefully passing Layla into his arms.

The second she settles against his chest, something deep inside Tony shifts.

He has done a lot in his life. He has built things, created things, changed the world in ways most people never will. But this? This little girl, looking up at him with barely-open eyes? This is his greatest achievement.

"Hey, baby girl," he murmurs, rocking her gently. "I’m your dad."

Layla makes a tiny noise, her mouth parting in a sleepy yawn.

Tony lets out a choked laugh. "Yeah, I know. I’m pretty great. You’re lucky you got me."

You roll your eyes, but the sight of Tony holding her so tenderly, looking at her like she’s the most precious thing in the universe, fills you with indescribable love.

The door opens, and your families rush in. Maria is the first to reach you, her eyes misty as she takes in the sight of her granddaughter.

"Oh, Tony," she breathes, pressing a hand to her heart. "She’s—she’s absolutely precious."

Howard, usually composed, clears his throat, visibly emotional. "Congratulations, son."

Your mother is already crying, rushing to your bedside and kissing your forehead. Your brother grins, peering over Tony’s shoulder to get a look at the baby. "She’s tiny," he observes.

"She’s perfect," Tony corrects, not looking away from her.

Layla Stark is officially the most loved baby in existence.

Bringing her home is an entirely new adventure.

Tony refuses to let anyone else carry her into the penthouse. He’s been watching every single movement she makes like a paranoid watchdog, convinced that she’s too fragile for the world.

When you finally settle onto the couch with her, Tony perches beside you, eyes locked onto Layla’s tiny face.

"So," you say, amused. "How does it feel to officially be a dad?"

Tony exhales, running a hand through his hair. "Like I’m holding the entire universe in my arms and I have to make sure nothing ever hurts her."

Your heart melts. "You’re already an amazing father, you know that?"

He scoffs but can’t hide his smile. "I better be. You and Layla deserve the best."

The first few nights are exhausting. Layla is up every two hours, and while you try to let Tony sleep, he refuses to leave you alone with her.

He is obsessed with watching you two.

And then, the inevitable moment happens.

One night, you’re sitting on the bed, exhausted, as Layla starts fussing. Without thinking twice, you unclip your nursing bra and guide her to your breast.

Tony, who had been half-asleep beside you, sits up immediately.

"Whoa."

You blink at him. "What?"

His eyes are locked onto you, specifically onto the fact that Layla is latched onto your breast. His ears turn red.

"Nothing, just—wow. This is… new."

You snort. "Tony, it’s literally just feeding her."

"I know that," he says, dragging a hand down his face. "It’s just—multitasking. You’re being a mom, but you’re also… you."

You laugh. "You’re ridiculous."

Tony sighs dramatically. "This is gonna take some getting used to."

Despite his embarrassment, he helps however he can. He’s up for every diaper change, every late-night rocking session, and every sleepy cuddle.

One afternoon, as Layla naps on his chest, you bring up the wedding.

"I was thinking," you say, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe we could finally set a date? When Layla’s about four months old?"

Tony stiffens, then lifts his head. "Nope."

You blink. "What do you mean, nope?"

He carefully shifts Layla off his chest and sits up, looking at you seriously.

"You just gave birth," he says. "You’re recovering. We have a newborn. The last thing you need to worry about is wedding planning."

"But—"

He silences you with a kiss.

"Later," he murmurs. "We’ll think about it later. Right now, all that matters is you, me, and Layla."

You sigh, but you know he’s right.

And as he pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead while your daughter sleeps peacefully beside you, you realize—there’s no rush.

Because no matter what, you and Tony already have everything you’ve ever wanted.

[asterias-record-shop]

bingo square: out of their league with tasm!peter using prompt 3.

i know one of the things about peter is he’s unaware of how appealing he is but i have idea stuck in my head

you and peter having been dating for a bit and you’re only familiar with his friends and vice versa like you guys know of each other and have exchanged greetings in passing but have never had the opportunity to get to know you

so when the opportunity does present itself (maybe at a party?) they’re stunned by everything they’ve learned about you and your personality basically a ‘woah our friend is great but your woah’ and he gets somewhat possessive and jealous

i like the idea of sitting on peter’s lap and teasing him until he lets you cockwarm him or the party dies down and barely anyone is there and he fucks you with his friends hearing (or watching 👀) and it ends with you leading him out the door to go home and your both marked up with hickeys and he has your lipstick on him + peter telling his friends that he knows he got lucky and how it’s something they’ll never about

—𓆩[cupid’s arrow]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! Rich! Cheerleader! Girlfriend! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, maybe slight angst?

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.2K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You were surprised when you found out that Peter fucking Parker was single, and you quickly fixed that. It was a surprise to everyone, especially him, when they found out you were interested in him - the head cheerleader and a physics nerd? Even then though, when a party occurs and his friends get to know more about you and think you’re so fucking cool — a wasted Peter gets jealous of how much they have your attention.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || definitely mixed up multiverses with friends, and added more || reader is reader wears makeup and revealing clothing || the nerd and the cheerleader trope has my heart || reader calls father ‘daddy’ nonsexually || party || shotgunning || reader smokes || drugs and alcohol || Peter really gets into this party mood because you’re having so much fun, therefore he gets wasted because he drinks and smokes || public groping & grinding || cock warming in public || slight voyeurism and exhibitionism? || marking kink || creampie || riding || multiple orgasms || multiple positions ||

“I think… we should go eat here for lunch,” you suggest, looking up at him as he stares down at you, the glasses on his face falling down his nose making you giggle, pushing them up. “Sounds good, right? I know high-end isn’t really your scene, but daddy’s friend just opened it up and the sushi looks like it’s to die for.”

“I-I uhm… I think that sounds good, I just got paid so-” he paused when you started giggling, looking down at you confused. “What’s wrong?”

“You don’t have to pay, sweetie. I don’t even have to pay, daddy has a tab there and we can get whatever we want. Besides, I have no practice today, so we have time!”

He smiled, but sighs. “When do I get to treat you, hm? It’s… it’s not fair. We always go to your house, your spots… I don’t get to do anything for you.”

You sit up, your shirt riding up your tummy and your skirt exposing your thighs. “What do you mean? Am… am I doing something wrong? I-I know I have problems with taking over things, am I doing that? I’m sorry-”

He shakes his head, quickly cupping your face. “No honey, of course not… it’s just, I don’t think it’s fair. I never get to spoil you… or bring you to my apartment or buy you lunch… Does that make you annoyed? Do I do enough for you?”

You stare at him, jaw slack before you start to laugh. “Peter! Are you insane?! I love you, I don’t care how much you spend on me, I like spending on you. I love going to your apartment, I love Aunt May, but I just like taking you to my house because we have more privacy. I like you living with me, don’t you want to move in with me? I’ve been meaning to ask you that…”

Peter pauses, staring at you. “You want me to move in with you?”

You giggle. “Well yeah… we’ve known each other for years, been dating for two… it’s not that weird, is it?”

He shook his head. “N-No, but… if I move in with you, I need to help with your bills and stuff. I’m not going to let you pay for everything.”

You laugh. “Peter, why would I let you pay for something I don’t even pay for? You… just have to stay with me,” you slowly move to sit in his lap, pushing back his hair as you giggled. “And love me. Besides, you would be the best boyfriend ever if you moved in with me.”

He hummed, nodding as he pulled you closer. “I will, honey, I will. I’ll do anything you want me to.”

You giggle, tugging on his hair. You had him wrapped around your finger, and you loved it just as much as you loved him. You pulled him closer, about to press a kiss to his lips before someone yelled his name. “Peter? Peter, oh my god, hey!”

You pulled away, smiling when you saw Gwen. “Oh, it’s Gwen. You should talk to her, invite your friends out to lunch with us!”

Peter almost groaned when he saw Gwen, Ned, MJ, and Harry walking toward them. He loved them, he did, but fuck could they leave? He was about to be kissed by you until he couldn’t breathe and your lipstick stained his lips, could they go? “Oh, hey guys!”

“Peter, we haven’t seen you in a while! Hey Y/N!” Gwen looks at you as you pull your legs under your butt, smiling at her.

“Hey Gwen! How are you guys, have y’all eaten lunch? Peter and I were just about to go.”

“Oh no, we just came from lunch, but thank you! How are y’all?” She sits down, the rest following as you shrug.

“We’re good! Peter and I were just talking about how he’s going to move in with me soon” you answer, humming. “I’m thinking next Friday. Oh, and we can have a party too! You guys should come, it’s going to be a… Peter's welcome party!”

MJ hummed. “You like to party, don’t you?”

“Oh who doesn't!” You giggled, humming. “It’ll be great! Besides, my parties are always the best, you guys should really come!”

Peter smiled, nodding. “Yeah, I know it’s been a while since we’ve all gone to a party together… what do y’all think?”

Gwen hums, looking back at everyone as they nod. “Okay! We’ll come.”

You smiled, looking back at Peter. “Perfect.”

It didn’t take Peter long to move in. Aunt May was happy he was getting out of the house, and you were even more happy to have him living with you. He was sleeping in your now shared bed every night, sometimes with his cock shoved deep inside of your cunt and twisting up your guts from how big he was.

Tonight though was Peter Parker’s Welcome Home party. He was home, finally he was home with you, where you have wanted him since you both started dating. Your now shared house was filled with sweaty teens, drunk or high off their asses as you sat with Peter and his friends in the living room, giggling along with Gwen as you held a joint between your fingers.

“You’re lying!” MJ was cackling as she clutched her book, staring at Peter. “Peter fucking Parker chased you down to ask for your number?”

“Yes!” You giggle, covering your mouth to hide your smile as Peter pressed his face into the back of your neck, slurring words into your skin before leaning into your hand and taking a long drag from the joint. “I told him he was hot at the subway station, then of course I had to catch my subway, and then he chased me all the way into the car and had to take a whole other subway to get back to where he wanted to go!”

Gwen laughs as Peter exhaled the smoke against your skin, your body hot even though so much skin was exposed in the skimpy dress you wore that barely went past down your ass and cut low on your chest, and even had a triangle piece of fabric missing from the bottom of your braless tits and lace black underwear. His hands ran along your bare skin as you giggled, leaning into his form as he started pressing lazy, open mouthed kisses to your neck.

“Peter! Why didn’t you introduce us to Y/N earlier, she’s amazing!” Ned laughed as you inhaled deeply with the joint in your mouth, mind going hazy before Peter pulled you back to kiss him.

You exhaled into his mouth, smoke flooding out from where your mouths weren’t connected and his hands groped at your tits. You groaned, humming as he took the joint from your fingers adorned with long acrylics and the base pressed to the thin satin that covered your tits.

“And that’s our cue to leave,” Gwen voiced out, everyone agreeing as you pulled Peter closer.

You groaned against his lips as you tried to turn around, desperate for more of his kisses before he pulled away, his mouth smeared with your lipstick. It was your signature color, one you wore everyday, and it looked fucking amazing on him.

You looked down at the joint in his hand, the fact the two of you were almost done with it saying something. “Want some more, spider boy?” You whisper, grabbing his wrist and taking a long inhale before blowing it into his face and licking his fingers. You hummed loudly, sucking his middle finger into your mouth like a lollipop as you take the joint in your other hand, pulling his finger down your throat before pulling away and moving to his pointer, sucking on the tip before forcing yourself to gag on it, pulling away to see the thick string of saliva. “The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can have some more fun.”

This specific joint was the one you were saving. It wasn’t Peter’s first time, mainly because it didn’t affect him, but this one did because it was of higher quality and had certain things you had disclosed to him before. You told him it was called ‘Cupid’s Arrow’, a stupid name but one that suited the joint filled with aphrodisiacs and a cherry flavored strain and he agreed immediately because of how excited you were.

You didn’t smoke very often, only on special occasions, and today was one of them.

It didn’t take long for you both to finish the joint, Peter slipping the remainder into a drink next to him as your lips continued their assault on his own, tongue pushing into his mouth and lipstick smearing all over his lips. He whined as you pulled away, humming as you tilted your head back and his mouth pressed against your neck before you gasped.

“Peter! I love this song, come on!” You tugged him off the comfort of the couch, a smile on his stained lips even though his boner was on show before you tugged him in front of you to firmly press against your body. “Dance with me, Peter.”

You’re both pushed together even closer from the rest of the sweaty bodies around you, but they knew better than to get close to you and Peter. He turned you around, his hands holding your hips as he bent his knees to press his cock between your thighs, his erection poking into your soaked panties as your hands pushed behind your head to hold his and pull him even closer.

It doesn’t take long for the drugs to actually kick in, mixing with the alcohol, your body finally cooling down as you rocked your hips back into Peter’s. He groaned loudly into your ear, hands shaking as they pushed underneath the fabric that barely covered your chest, groping and letting his fingertips swipe over your hard nipples.

You groaned loudly as you tilted your head back, your body starting to grow hot as you rocked into him with urgency, the feeling of his large, blunt tip rubbing against your pussy too much to handle. You whined loudly as he pulled you closer, desperate to feel your body against his as you groaned into his mouth when he pulled you in for a kiss. He pulled away to press firm kisses to your neck, smearing the same lipstick he had on his lips against your skin as you pulled out that same golden, expensive tube and a handheld mirror to reapply it.

His reflection caught your eye, his mouth pressing firmly to your neck and sucking against your skin while groping at your tits from underneath your dress. You tilted your head back as you slip the tube and mirror back into the waistband of your dress, eyes rolling back as his thumbs slid over your hard nipples and his hot mouth sucking against your skin made everything hazy.

Neither of you registered the people around you, your mouth pressing kisses to his cheek before sucking hickies against his jaw, slight saltiness from the thin sheen of sweat on both of your bodies. Both of you were grinding against each other like there was no tomorrow, the tip of his cock rubbing against your clothed sex making your body even hotter.

“Fuck,” you cursed, groaning as he squeezed at your tits before slowly guiding you both back to the couch where you straddled his thighs and were quick to unbutton his pants. You tugged the zipper down as you set your lipstick and mirror down on the table as he easily slipped off your underwear, throwing it to the side as you pushed yourself up so you could guide his cock into you.

This wasn’t the first time the two of you had raw sex, but it was definitely the first time you were both high off your asses. “Wait, wait,” you whisper, balancing yourself by holding his chest. “Is this okay?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, nodding vigorously. “More than okay. So much more than okay.”

You giggled as you leaned forward, pressing your lips against his as he slowly pushed his cock between your legs, letting his blunt tip slide up and down your slit before finally pushing up into you. Your head falls back, groans echoing around the room as he bucked his hips.

You felt wetter than you’ve ever been, your cunt squelching as he slowly pushed into you, his face pressed against your neck as he groaned loudly. He gasped as you slowly began to sink down on him, your pretty face scrunched in all the right ways and tears pricking your eyes made him groan loudly, his hips bucking into you.

He didn’t even know that he came until you felt something inside of you, that same sticky feeling flooding down your thighs as you groaned, attempting to push lower on his cock as he grunted. “Did you just cum?”

He pauses, looking down. “I-I think so…”

“But you’re still hard?” You whispered, ducking down to kiss his neck and continue sucking on his skin. “Guess that Cupid’s Arrow really did something, huh baby?”

He hummed, nodding. “I swear, you feel so much fucking better than I could ever imagine. I don’t know if it’s the drugs or if it’s you, but I swear I can fucking feel everything.”

You giggled. “You’re sure it’s not your spidey senses?”

He groaned, shaking his head as he held your hips and angled his own to thrust up into you with a loud groan. “N-No, my… my spidey-sex-drive is up or something… I feel everything, your pussy clenching and all of your slick dripping down my cock… I swear I can feel you stretch out with every thrust. Please, please I need to fuck you so bad.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” You whisper, one of his hands pushing up the chest area of your dress and letting your tits fall out. He pauses his thrusting, making you whine, grabbing a folded blanket to throw it over your shoulders.

“I need more. Fucking hell, I need to feel as much as I can of you, but this body is only mine to see. You’re mine.”

You groaned into his ear, gasping as you held the back of his head, rocking your hips into his to match every thrust. You could barely think about anything else but his cock ramming into you, the almost infinite feeling of riding your orgasm making your mind blurry. Have you cum yet? Peter always knew when you came, he would feel a lightning bolt down his spine and would giggle softly, but with the amount he was shaking in pleasure you didn’t know.

You could feel his cock being easily let into your deepest parts, the aphrodisiacs must’ve had something to do with loosening you up and making arousal spew from you like a fountain. Or maybe it was cum? Who knew at this point, you couldn’t think of anything else but Peter who was covered in your lipstick and hickies, his cock buried inside of you, balls deep and his cum leaking out of your pussy before he pounded it straight back in.

He groaned into your neck, gasping as another shock ran down his back, his hands slamming you down on his cock as you panted into his ear. “F-Fuck, Y/N, I can’t stop… I can’t stop my hips, I can’t stop fucking you.”

You shake your head against his neck, whimpering. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Your body was hot, the only relief was his cock inside of you and you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon. You didn’t care that you both were fucking mid-party, it was your house, your couch, your boyfriend. If anyone had a problem with it, they could leave.

You gasped as he grabbed your hips, flipping the two of you over so you were on your back, his hands sliding a pillow under your hips to support you before going straight back to your tits. You groaned as you pushed your hands under his shirt, the blanket covering both of your bodies as his mouth stayed on yours, barely pulling away to even breathe.

Peter couldn’t help it, whatever the hell was in that joint made him infatuated. His hips thrusted as hard as he could, desperate to be inside of you as much as he could while you rocked your hips to match his thrusts, desperate to reach a climax in your high. You had cum at least three times from what Peter could actually process, but like him, the permanent high of ecstasy wasn’t enough when the both of you needed to hit that climax.

Your moans filled his ears as the couch started to creak, his mouth hot on your neck and collarbone to mark you up as though someone would try to take you. He couldn’t stop leaving all those hickies all over your body, how could he when everyone needed to know you belonged to him? Besides, after this and everyone seeing him fuck you until you saw stars, everyone would definitely know he was your boyfriend, soon to be fiancée as soon as he found the perfect ring for you.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your thrusts meeting his as his cock slammed into you, wet slaps and squelches filling the room that could’ve been full of spectators — not that either of you cared.

You didn’t know when he stopped, panting above you as you hold his head and rake your fingers through his hair, admiring the mess of hickies and lipstick marks that you left. You pulled him down for another firm kiss, humming as you pulled away and he followed your lips. “We should get a dog.”

He laughed, titling his head to the side to press kisses to your neck, seeing all of his friends in the corner gaping at you both. “Whatever you want, honey.”

omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!

Bingo tag 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪   𓆩[@yoongiwife23]𓆪 𓆩[@urlocalbum12-blog]𓆪

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪   𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[sepublic]

            At this point I do think executives should just cut to the chase and do a show starring Miles Morales or Gwen Stacy from the start, rather than having to bother with Peter Parker as the main character first. With all the criticisms of MCU Spidey being so different, I think people have forgotten the context behind a lot of those changes; The formula is getting kind of repetitive.

            Spider-Man’s one of the most popular superheroes of all time, he’s been adapted a million times. He’s like Batman where every time we have a new incarnation, people joke about Uncle Ben and Thomas and Martha Wayne having to die again. And when part of the appeal of superheroes is the ability to reinvent and do things differently with each incarnation, it kinda makes sense!

            In fact I recall people initially defending/praising MCU Spidey for experimenting back when he first debuted. And then I look at the recent popularity of Miles Morales, with Spiderverse making him mainstream. And of course everyone’s copying Spiderverse, not just with the Multiverse gimmick, but also by introducing Miles as Spider-Man. But it’s also led to critiques in regards to how Miles is introduced, which is typically way too early into Peter Parker’s story, as seen with the 2017 cartoon.

            And to go back to the criticisms of MCU Spidey, the fact that people pointed out Hey, he took a lot of cues from Miles Morales, is kind of a dead give-away; Companies want the new energy that Miles Morales has, but they’re still scared of fully committing and still need to, dare I say pander, to mainstream audiences by playing it safe. Because you can’t have Spider-Man without Peter Parker, and it’s why YFNS is once again starring Peter, while at the same time trying to innovate with the whole premise of Norman Osborn as his mentor… And already there’s news about Spider-Gwen being in S2.

            Obviously race factors into this, where a lot of executives aren’t confident enough to just start off with black boy Miles, he has to be introduced as white boy Peter’s sidekick; Even if YFNS introduces multiple characters of color and has made the Osborns black, the main character is still white. I’ve heard Spider-Man PS4 does a good job at balancing Peter and Miles, but at some point you gotta commit to what Spiderverse the precedent has and just go with Miles without having to ease people into him through Peter first, without having to constantly promise that this is still Peter’s show! Similarly, you could also bring gender as a factor in why Spider-Gwen has yet to get her own TV show, but again, Spiderverse made her mainstream at least!

            My point is: Just get it out of the way. Do a Miles-centric story. Or a Gwen-centric one. Spiderverse the precedent that everyone’s emulating has already proven you don’t have to go through Peter’s entire origin and saga to do it. When YFNS inevitably ends, I’d really like to see the next show just embrace Miles and/or Gwen from the start. Preferably saving any multiverse shenanigans for later down the line.

            Tbf; Peter’s mythos is a lot more entrenched in him being the one guy against a whole army. Not that Spider-Man: The Animated Series didn’t have a whole slew of team-ups. So with Miles and Gwen, whose stories are of similar but still distinct veins, I don’t think it’d necessarily ‘sabotage’ their premises as much to introduce the other early on, if executives are so impatient… Esp given, again, the precedent of Spiderverse.

[soul-collectors]

SOUL COLLECTORS MASTERPOST

FULL CHRONOLOGICAL TIMELINE

PART 1; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4- 5 | PART 2; ...

SOUL COLLECTORS ASKS

(Al & Ditto) 1 - 2 - 3 -...

(N/A) 1 - ...

(World/Random Timelines) 1 - 2 ...

SOUL COLLECTORS BONUS(es)

(This will be catigorized into serious/fully canon bonuses and silly/non canon bonuses soon)

it's time (not really) - Asriel Dreemurr takes off - 100 notes - can't shatter SOULs - Twitter special PT.1 - Twitter special PT.2 - squeezable Soul - Undyne's boots - wet jacket - UTY Special (1) - UTY Special (2) - UTY Special (3) - Good Boys - Skeleton teacup - Pie tasting - Fellsweep loss - Gaster's followers - Fall - Lego and S'mores - SOUL Chain! - Vess goes to jail - 2025 New year! - hello Vess! - Interesting. - Anon and Maker - Maker's glasses - Chatting - Sunflower - Pot&Liz doodle - Every Time - ...

CHARACTERS

[SOUL] - Design - Intro

[MAKER] - Design(s) - Intro

[LYGO] - Design

[VESS] - Design - Intro

[AL] - Design

[DITTO] - Design

(...)

(OTHERS)

[CROW] - Design - Intro

[EDU] - Design

{BG CHARACTERS} - Pot&Liz - Cloak&Dagger - ...

SC; MAKER TIMELINE

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - ...

(In progress...)

GENERAL INFO

(click on keep reading!)

SOUL COLLECTORS 101

1. ANOMALY SOULS

2. SOUL COLLECTORS

What is 'SOUL collectors' (THE UTMV)? (and why is it called that?)

SOUL Collectors is an Undertale multiverse for several different Undertale OCs I have created.

A collection of their interactions with each other, the multiverse, and their arcs into achieving their wants or needs.

It's also sometimes Open to Asks towards or about the characters!

basically my sandbox for ideas and OCs lmao-

SOUL Collectors is a passion project that only has me, @pathosketches working on it, It doesn't have a specific schedule for posting and not everything is set in stone, I'm only having fun here :]

SOUL Collectors is also the name of a group of Vessels seemingly able to "collect" SOULs, Soul (the poster boy) being one of them!

BASIC INFO ON SOUL COLLECTORS

what makes this Multiverse special? (Why do SOULs look like that?)

The SOUL Collectors MV has a special 'glitch' that appears in some timelines after a run has ended (pacifist, neutral, or genocide) that gives the fallen 6 Human SOULs (sometimes other humans as well, but rarely so) shape and prevents them from being shattered.

They’re called Anomaly SOULs.

BASIC INFO ABOUT ANOMALY SOULS

(From part 1 [5])

You'll learn about them and how they work from the story as it progresses and from Asks-

How many 'Stories' are there? (what is Maker timeline?)

SC has two main 'stories':

'SOUL collectors' itself.

'SOUL collectors: Maker timeline' a subplot/Secondary story that takes place before the events of SC. It (mainly) follows a Gaster variant that learned of his inevitable "fall" into the CORE and how that affected him and his timeline.

'SC: Maker timeline' will usually be drawn in a 'sketchy' style :)

Can I draw the SC cast with my ocs? / Can I draw the SC cast?

Yes!! absolutely!! Any art made of my silly characters would make my day!! and interactions with ocs are so much fun to see!!

Just remember to be respectful! (No NSFW/excessive gore/weird things/etc-)

Can I make my own SOUL Collector/Anomaly SOUL/Monster affected/Maker ocs?

Yes of course! I'd love to see what ocs you come up with! And if you have any questions in making them, I'll be more than happy to help without spoiling some major plot points haha!

(This post may be updated in the future, I hope you come to enjoy the freaks I created ˘͈ᵕ˘͈)

[the-universal-sun]

I love your blog so far! I was wondering if you could do some little bill cipher headcanons? :3

Thank you for reading my posts! I’ve done one other post about Little!Bill, so if you want to check them out I think they’re some of the first ones I did! But here are some more headcanons that I, personally, feel are more thought out! Enjoy! I hope you like them!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

-Like I mentioned in my previous headcanons post about Little!Bill, Bill's caregiver is the Axolotl. It started as purely a therapeutic thing to help Bill’s recovery, but the Axolotl and Bill became closer over time, and they truly do care for each other now. Bill is the Axolotl’s Baby Shape, his little Chaos (Because even when regressed, Bill is still chaotic) and Bill calls the Axolotl his “Lottie” 

-He wears socks, not that he needs too, but he just likes the warmth and comfort they provide him. He has so many pairs of socks, ranging from funny joke designs to fuzzy with cute animals of various multiversal kinds printed on them. The Axolotl lets him pick out a new pair to wear everyday, even when he’s not regressed. They’re a comfort item of his

-He gets into all sorts of mischief when little. Not the world ending, power seeking, or torturous kind, but more so pranks and hijinks that are in essence harmless to the beings at the Theraprism. Sneaking snacks he’s not supposed to, tying shoelaces together, giving people weird, but not scary, dreams. Again, pretty harmless compared to what he’s done before

-He so has a pacifier with squares patterned on it. It helps soothe him on his bad days, where he’s stubbornly refusing to regress or work with the Axolotl and is on the verge of a meltdown. They just pop that in his eye mouth and swaddle him and he’s instantly dropped. The Axolotl doesn’t like essentially forcing Bill to regress, but when it’s obvious that he needs and wants it, but is just being stubborn about it, they do what they have to

-He loves being sung to. It reminds him of his mom. The Axolotl isn’t the best at singing, humming they can do, not so much singing. But they do have an old style Gramophone in their office/room and has records of lullabies and children's songs from the multiverse being softly song; they’ll put it on for the background noise when Bill’s regressed, occasionally humming along, and will turn the volume up when it’s nap time

-Surprisingly, Bill is actually really good about nap time. It helps that the Axolotl will play a game like hide and seek with him about a half hour before it’s his nap time. That tires him out pretty quickly

-He doesn’t have stuffed animals, but the Axolotl knits him soft stars and planets, he loves cuddling them and rolling on them on the floor. His preferred way to sleep is nestled underneath all of them until only his eye peeks out. It makes him feel safe and protected on all sides

-The Axolotl gives Bill a blanket that he swears is actually made out of stars, too. He keeps asking, but they’re tight lipped out it

-Bill still has a long way to go until he’s redeemed, but this does help, helping him heal his childhood traumas and giving him more soft and positive experiences that can color the actions he takes moving forward. -The Axolotl knows he has more going on when other than “evil dimension destroyer”, Bill’s got layers to him, he may look two dimensional but he’s anything but. Underneath all that pain, they think Bill’s a fun being to be around. The Axolotl also thinks he’s also a really cute Little

[signanothername]

UT/UTMV Lore Asks Masterpost (part 1)

All masterposts

This will include lore/ characterization

*tip! Those in red text will contain an explicit discussion/visual display of some sort of trigger/content warning, these could be blood, emotional or physical abuse, emotional manipulation, death, self destructive behaviors, implied or discussed suicidal ideation, suggestive content or other sensitive topics

*tip! Those in orange text will contain an implied or mentioned trigger/content warning but no explicit discussion/visual display

*tip! Asks with 💬 are without art, only text

Let me know if I missed color coding anything :)

Bad Sanses reaction to Shatter Dream?

Nightmare would try to make Shatter Dream came back to normal Dream.

"You're just like them. The villagers."

Do you think your Nightmare would ever have moments of his past self

what would Killer's reaction be if Nightmare just lost his corruption

How would your Nightmare react if Dream died

what do you think that will happen if Nightmare really achieve his goal?

what if Nightmare actually dated someone?

How would Killer interact with Passive?

can i ask how you headcanon the murder time trio? 💬

If your version of Killer had to choose which person he’d stay with forever without ever going back to anyone else. Who would he choose? Nightmare? Or Color?

who cooked the food? 💬

what is your opinion on Dream? 💬

color spectrum duo knowing ASL means a lot to me!!!!💬

do you think color and killer have nicknames for each other? 💬

you think Killer would try using Color’s soul as an experiment 💬

soul colors for color's flame 💬

do nightmare and dream know ASL? 💬

in depth look into how Dream and Nightmare experience autism

Dream finds out he’s autistic is because of either blue or ink 💬

where Nightmare kills Dream and wins? 💬

Stage 3/4 or stage 1 when there are cats 💬

more like himself 💬

how fucked up are nightmare’s legs? 💬

they’re often really touchy with each other?? 💬

Smart Killer 💬

Frenemies

Duality of a Dream Sans fan. 💬

shape shifting ability

what if Dream lost his memory 💬

nightmare sometimes cries himself to sleep 💬

Nightmare having a cat is adorable 💬

do you think nightmare could have a happy ending? 💬

you think Killer repeats or keeps any habits/quirks he picked up with Nightmare 💬

Little Nightmare traveling in the multiverse? 💬

I feel like little nightmare would talk to trees 💬

i love Killer knowing shit about Nightmare know one should know, but how does he find it out? 💬

And since killer is observant wouldn't he notice this??💬

Do you think killer knows that nightmare is autistic? 💬

do you think nightmare would let a human work for him or do you think he prefers only monsters to work under him? 💬

what would happen if Color dies instead of Killer? 💬

Do you think that your take on nightmare could become a better person without becoming at least fully uncorrupted? 💬

How do you see Nm's and Ccino's relationship?

Was nereid actually the cause of ccino’s alternative timelines being destroyed??? 💬

poor Dream though, wish he wouldnt care so much about someone like Nightmare 💬

May I ask if you think mtt would change their names at all if they left Nightmare? 💬

Would there be even the slightest chance Nightmare would become that if Dream died? And what would be his reaction? 💬

LAST NIGHT I REALIZED THAT IMPLIES NIGHTMARE CAN TURN PEOPLE TO STONE, LISTEN- 💬

Nightmare having children as a concept 💬

does killer sleep with his eye sockets open. I feel like he does, does he?? 💬

Nightmare recruitment process 💬

can your nightmare have a healthy relationship with someone, like when he's uncorrupted? 💬

what do u think of horror n farm?

Does your version of Nightmare have like, a will of some sort? (Nightmare’s death part 1)

both outcomes where either of the twins die are really interesting to me (Nightmare’s death part 2)

Dream now feels a lot more alone as well (Nightmare’s death part 3)

What would happen to the rest of the Multiverse once Nightmare is gone?? (Nightmare’s death part 4)

If you need to choose only one character you are saving, you prefer Killer or Color

How do you imagine mean girl nightmare stats box’s looking and saying?

I am surprised that each Murder agreed to work with Nightmare 💬

YOU LIKE GENO?

within colors group (delta and epic) who do you think is the strongest and weakest magically/physically?

What would've happened had it been Nightmare? When faced with this small six year old who is nothing like he remembers, would Nightmare's true self and corruption be mentally first fighting on what the hell to do?

I was mainly curious about if Nightmare might try to hurt Dream 💬

Is Nightmare the shortest of his own gang?

To Nightmare: do you want to be with Dream? Or Dream: Do you want to forgive him?

I was wondering what you mean when you talk about the fact Killer feels nostalgic still for Nightmare, even after being saved by Color

Nightmare losing his corruption

Can you draw a body from uncropped Nightmare?

it looks so wrong seeing killermare in ur style bc of what u usually do to em

do you think dream might also have some sort of chronic pain?

how do you think they experience others emotion

Mama’s boy

love that you made Nightmare a lil mamas boy 💬

What do you call the thing around Nightmare's(ur designs) outfit? Is it like a scarf or smth?

if Nightmare uncorrupted by a miracle, do you think he would find his happy ending or mend things with Dream?

Does nightmare get like kid sized clothes? Or would he like get his custom made?

do you maybe have the refs of your versions of sanses in color?

Would dust think of his scarf as his ‘hair’ in a way?

How would Killer react if he found Nightmare in a weaker state?

What would happen if you ate an apple in front of the Apple twins

in the timeline/future of where he leaves nightmare, do you think he’ll keep being a lap at to Color??

So much alike

you mentioned your nightmare is a semi-god, so does he still need to sleep, eat, etc...?

nightmare takes better care of his minions than dream/ dreams actually really toxic 💬

Killer’s and Nightmarems heights

Numbers for their heights? 💬

I like how error is taller than geno somehow 💬

Ive never seen anyone really depict Horror the same or smaller compared to Killer and Murder/Dust in height wise

Has the MTT every gotten gravely hurt in a mission and had to return early? 💬

Is Dreams smell another reason Nightmare doesn't like being around him? Smells too much like their mother? 💬

[trollprincess]

So I was watching a TT where someone was pointing out the flaws in “Lilia’s sigil caused all the Multiverse of Madness trouble!” which he argued kept it from being worse. And I agree wholeheartedly, because good God …

1. If Wanda senses almost immediately that Billy’s out there, she’d go get him. So what happens to the Kaplans? Best case scenario, they find out their only child is dead and occupied by Billy’s soul, and he’s taken from them by Wanda. Worst case scenario? They’re not surviving that encounter.

2. Billy has gotten to spend the last three years in a perfectly normal family - going to school, growing up, meeting a nice boy. It’s hard to honestly believe that he would have gotten that if Wanda snatched him up as soon as he switched bodies and took him off to look for Tommy.

3. So let’s say she gets him back, restores his memories, helps him with his powers … and it’s still not enough. Wanda was NOT in a good place mentally, and I’m not sure actually FINDING the boys (because I’m pretty sure she would have located Tommy soon enough) would have been enough. They’re not in the right bodies, they might still somehow end up with memories of their lives as Billy Kaplan and [redacted in case of spoilers], and it might not be *enough* for her. And it might end up hurting the boys.

4. Wanda did a lot of messed-up shit in Westview alone, even before the events of Multiverse. Billy learned about it from the outside from Ralph and Agatha, and what happened to them. And while I love Wanda, what she did in Westview was wrong. And I’m not sure if that would have filtered to the boys through the lens of Wanda retelling it to them later on. I think both of them need to know it BEFORE they ever meet Wanda (provided she ever comes back). I firmly believe this season’s going to end with either a Tommy cameo or Billy meeting up with him, but I don’t believe Wanda will come back (just yet, anyway). And those boys need each other, and the outsider perspective of what she did, before she gets in touch with them. I’m sure they’ll meet Vision first in his series, which … good.

5. Honestly, Wanda needed therapy and antidepressants, not her kids back, and especially not under those conditions. Or with the Darkhold around. Imagine if Billy’s growing up with that thing in the house.

6. Lilia sees the future, and if she sees William/Billy’s possible future without the sigil and with Wanda able to find him and she still puts the sigil on him? What she must have seen was far worse than what happened.

7. Even if it was solely to protect William/Billy and damn all the other people Wanda would hurt, I don’t blame Lilia for putting the sigil on. William was thirteen, and Billy was even younger. Considering the way Wanda was acting at the time she slipped the sigil into William’s jacket, I’d want to protect him too.

I don’t know, it’s just the more I think about, Lilia had to have very good reasons for the sigil if the other *better* option was to let Wanda trample all over the Multiverse.

[cecilscribbles]

not my usual kind of post!! this is an essay i wrote in response to word getting out that i think That Triangle is hot. umm it's a little messy but i had fun writing it so im sharing it anyways ;^^ have a look under the cut if so inclined 👇

Foreword

I’m a little obsessed with eroticism.

It’s in a strange, abstract, almost detached sort of way, the same way I like poetry, or psychology. The same way people look at those “magic eye” pictures, you know the ones; it’s something I want to pick apart and look at from every angle to see how it ticks, to see how pictures or words or electrical signals and patchwork hallucinations can come alive in our hands and in our minds. It really is a sort of magic to me - but I want it to become a science. I want to know exactly how and why something clicks, something works. I want to know what makes something real.

Unfortunately, I do not feel quite as clean and clinical when it comes to a certain, jazzy triangle.

Introduction

Thanks for not immediately clicking away.

Yes, I’m one of those people. Yes, I’m attracted to Bill Cipher in more ways than one, yes, I’m aware he’s a triangle, I get it. He is so far outside the bounds of what’s considered conventionally attractive to the average person, I do understand the confusion; but I’m most definitely not alone in this stance. Alex Hirsch himself brought this up and gave his own opinion on what makes Bill so alluring to certain individuals:

but it’s not just kids. And this definitely isn’t an open-and-shut case with a simple answer. So here’s my attempt at getting to the bottom of the intangible, untouchable aura of Bill Cipher.

This essay contains discussion of Gravity Falls and Bill himself as well as dark fiction, the human psyche, and of course, of a sexual nature.

Let’s begin at the only natural place to do so: the tip of the iceberg.

Horror, erotica, and the strange but undeniable tie between the two

And here’s where I begin throwing rocks at my glass house.

Fear and arousal are the same thing to me. If you are unfortunately not me, they’re at least very, very close. Something similar was said by Cipher himself in the relatively newly released Book of Bill:

Admittedly he’s speaking as the victim and perpetrator of abuse here, but maybe he was onto something.

Both of these states of body and mind share many similarities. They have roots in deep-seated, almost animalistic emotions and driving forces, they induce symptoms like elevated heart rates and quickened breathing, and they’re linked with the hormone adrenaline; They give you a rush. They’re intense, can be overwhelming at times, and they induce unsolicited physical and psychological reactions.

Most of all, they evoke risk and the unknown (what’s more mysterious than infinite knowledge held behind a single, all-seeing eye?) and power. (what does Bill crave most, along with attention, which can also be gained from this?)

They’re silly little human quirks that are painfully easy to use to your advantage. Bill would - and did - adore bending them to his whims. And maybe we would get a kick out of being on the receiving end. Let me explain; the thing about a relationship with Bill is that each person holds every level of power over the other. You must be one of the greatest things in the multiverse considering he chose you specifically as his next acolyte. He treats you as an equal, despite being a god himself - but he’s still a god. You’re a mere speck in a vast, uncaring universe, sitting next to a being of pure energy, the lone survivor of the euclidean massacre, the one eyed king, etcetera. You really don’t compare to him at all. The way he interacts with other people, you or otherwise, has infinite possibilities, and is therefore infinitely compelling. Bill is at his best when he has someone else to bounce off of, whether he’s towering above or cowering beneath them. Furthermore, I think everyone has a small part of them that wants to belong to someone completely, or have a god as their equal, or even their inferior. We’re naturally curious. We want to understand and experience crazy, wicked things like leading lives of crime, or ruling the world, or letting go of all our morals and just having fun (that, or this is just a me thing and now I look even more deranged than I already did). Which serves as a perfect segway into the next point I want to make.

Dark fiction, and Bill’s self-proclaimed reality

I love dark fiction a lot of the time, since it allows me to explore concepts and situations that are harmful in the real world from a safe and comfortable distance, as well as having fantastical elements mixed in to sweeten the pot. It can broaden your horizons and give you a well-rounded perspective on life, meaning you can sympathize with experiences and feelings that aren’t your own, and ensure you don’t get wrapped up in echo chambers. But I’m not going to pretend these are the only reasons I enjoy darker content.

A lot of the time, I enjoy these things simply because they’re dark. I like putting my favourite characters in the worst situations I can imagine. I am very much eating your dead dove. “Whump,” as it’s commonly referred to in fandom spaces, is incredibly captivating and can be fun to think about. The world of fiction is a place where we can let our strongest urges and strangest desires run wild. It’s a place with no consequences. And this is the very clear divide between my - and maybe our - coping mechanisms, and Bill’s.

We use stories and characters as a way to step into someone else’s shoes for a while, but Bill seems physically incapable of removing his. He’s so wrapped up in his own delusions, his own perception, how he thinks his story should go that he’s lost touch with reality almost completely. He refuses to change or listen, and stays trapped in his negative habits and behaviours. This is also what separates him from the rest of the main cast and what ultimately leads to his downfall.

Going back to what I said earlier, Bill nurtures this little seed of chaos in us, this voice that tells us to step on other people, to start fights, to completely let ourselves go. He lures people into his cycles of abuse, offering a drink and a seat beside him as he watches the world end. It’s his world now. And here, there are no consequences.

Unfortunately for him, the reality he’s attempted to build for himself is fickle. It doesn’t work. He does fail, he does have feelings, he does hurt people; but the idea of a place where you can have everything you could possibly want, free of charge, sounds appealing to all of us.

How does this answer our question?

To finally give my personal judgement on this matter: I think people find Bill Cipher so enthralling because of the mystery that his physical form is shrouded in (we have very little idea of how his anatomy works, it’s easy to hide expressions when you lack a face, etc), the thrill we get when faced with something alien and otherworldly, and the quintessential human desire to do whatever we want. He’s a deep, complex character that’s easy to get lost in. And even though he’s positively despicable, he represents that dark corner in all of our minds. Finding the idea of his company or his partnership desirable is only natural, I of anyone should know - but whatever you do, whatever fictional favourites of yours you run through the wringer - try keep it between you, and Archive Of Our Own.

Thanks for reading. Stay weird.