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clockwayswrites · 1 year ago

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Both Ways at Once Part 5

WC: 1766, Masterpost CW: discussions of death, vague mentions of child trafficking and rape

Danny leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He breathed in slowly through his nose, counting. He couldn’t let loose. They didn’t know. John said they didn’t know and Danny trusted John. Not with everything, he knew too much to trust John with everything, but he trusted John with this. The other wouldn’t have done this if he had known.

The gloved hand on his shoulder shifted, sliding to wrap around the back of Danny’s neck and give a little squeeze. It should have felt suffocating. It was grounding. Danny could already feel himself settling and responding to resonate back with Red Hood.

That was dangerous to have that resonance.

“Pomp,” John said. His shoes squeaked as he leaned forward. “Talk to me, Pomp, what did I miss?”

That right there was one of the reasons Danny trusted John, he would step up when he fucked up.

Danny sighed and opened his eyes. “He’s— he was a halfa, John.”

John paled. The color drained out of his face and left him a splotchy grey. His voice was strangled as he insisted, “Halfas are just a myth.”

“Rare, very rare, but not a myth. Think about it John. You said that the Red Hood from before was alive, but you know I’m right, the one here is a protector spirit. He died, John.”

“Red Hood is still alive, he has a heart beat,” Superman insisted.

“I’m still not talking to you,” Danny hissed, not taking his eyes off John. “Constantine. He was a halfa. I don’t know what they are anymore. This one is more ghost than human. I assume that the other one is more human than ghost. But put them back together and they would be perfectly balanced and you’ve been keeping them apart.”

John slumped back, rubbing at his face. “Bloody fucking hell…”

“The other half has been unwell, hasn’t he? Maybe just fatigued, but I bet he’s in pain too. His focus keeps wandering maybe. He’s listless.” Danny finally glanced away from John and over to the trio. Batman was, as always, almost impossible to read, but Danny felt sure Batman was tense. He might even be worried.

He wasn’t even looking at Danny but instead at Red Hood, who Danny was sure was avoiding Batman’s gaze. Even still, Red Hood’s fingers were trembling against the back Danny’s neck.

Danny reached up and took the gloved hand, hooking their fingers together.

“Constantine,” Batman growled, but the word sounded broken, under the bite.

John glanced from Batman to Danny and back again. “If Nightingale says that Red Hood is, was, a halfa, then he was. Nightingale’s the psychopomp, the dead is his realm more than any living I’ve ever met and, hell, more than most people who are dead.”

“And what is a halfa?” Wonder Woman asked, still the calm voice of reason.

“Rare,” Danny bit back, showing his teeth. He made himself take a breath and regulate his tone. “Someone who is half living, half ghost. They are a balance between life and death. If no one knew that Red Hood was part ghost, there’s a chance he wasn’t fully formed before, but I can assure you he’s a protector spirit now, no matter if he’s still alive. It’s also likely why the spell did this. There were already two halves to split. The human who was the living and the ghost who was the death.”

Wonder leaned forward in her seat. “You seem certain that the other half is sick.”

“They have to be— it’s a part of themselves that was ripped out and that leaves a wound. I suspect that because the other one must have more of the human side, he’s suffering more of the human affects of the separation while Red Hood is suffering more of the ghostly affects.”

“And your recommendation?” Wonder Woman asked.

“They need to be together. They need to be together and the place where they’re together needs to be Red Hood’s haunt.”

“His haunt?”

“Likely where he resided before. Or it would be where he patrolled if those are different areas. It would be somewhere emotionally important to him no mater what. As I’ve said, he’s a protector spirit so it should be obvious where his haunt is considering his role as a vigilante.”

“Crime Alley,” Red Hood rasped from behind Danny. his fingers squeezed tighter around Danny’s for a moment.

Danny’s arm was getting sore holding itself up like that, but he wasn’t going to take the comfort away from Red Hood or even deprive himself of that grounding point. It would be too easy for him to lose his temper here and really give the Justice League something to be afraid of.

“Crime Alley then,” he said. He had no reason to doubt what Red Hood was said. A ghost knew their own haunt. “We have to get him back to Crime Alley and they need to be together. I assume you have a place there?”

“No,” Batman said, though he didn’t shift. Wonder Woman placed her hand on his arm again.

“We’re concerned about there being a reaction of some sort should they meet,” she explained. “Constantine said that it might be possible.”

Constantine grumbled under his breath and ducked his head with a little shrug.

“If we didn’t know what was going on, sure, that’s a fair enough worry, but we do and I’m telling you that they need to be together until either they’re back together as one or until they fully settle into two separate people.”

“No.” It was Superman who protested this time.

“You don’t have a choice if you don’t want to torture and kill one or both of them,” Danny said, resisting the urge to bare his fangs at the boy scout again. “They need to go to Crime Alley.”

“He’s dangerous. If he is just the Red Hood half of the personality, which you’ve basically confirmed—“

“I have not. I’ve explained how they were physically split. It has affected how their split in motivation only because motivation is what a ghost is, but I would have to speak with both of them to learn how they are mentally and emotionally split.”

Superman just frowned in a disappointed uncle sort of way, as Danny talked and then continued on like Danny hadn’t even said anything. “Then he’s even more dangerous. We cannot simply let someone like Red Hood go. We have to think about everyone’s safety in this matter, especially civilians.”

“I thought you weren’t killers?” Danny threw back at them, saccharine sweet in his delivery.

It made Superman’s frown deepen, though Wonder Woman actually looked a bit amused.

“We aren’t,” the Big Blue said.

“If you try and keep him here you are. I’m telling you right here and right now that if you do not let him go back to Crime Alley then you are signing his death warrant. You might try to claim that he died in jail, but you’ll still be the cause of it. But that’s how you kill, isn’t it?”

“Nightingale,” John warned under his breath, twitching like he wanted to reach out and touch Danny, maybe to hold him back.

“No, really, it is, isn’t it? You want to to pretend that you don’t kill, that you’re better than whatever Red Hood has done, but are you really? At least he’s Honest about it. Red,” Danny said, tugging at the other’s hand so that he had to move up to stand more beside him. Danny looked up at the mask, looked through it. “You’ve killed.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because they wouldn’t stop. They never stopped. Now that they’re dead, they’ve stopped.”

“Who?”

“Poisoning drug dealers. Rapists. Abusers. Child traffickers. People who threatened my….” Red Hood reared back slightly as if surprised by what his cut off words were going to be.

“Your haunt. Your people. Those under your watch and protection,” Danny said. “See, he’s honest about it. Were all of those deaths in the right? I don’t know. But I’m not sad a rapist is dead. I’m not sad children didn’t get trafficked. Those are the sort of people we’re supposed to be against, isn’t it? Well, us small heroes. You fight bigger names these days, don’t you, Superman?”

“Alright then,” John said, standing suddenly. Red Hood twisted to put himself further between the occult detective and Danny.

Danny patted Red Hood��s arm gently. “It’s okay, John’s trying to protect me. He thinks I’m putting my foot in my mouth and making enemies. And maybe I am. But I’m not going to sit by and watch this hypocrisy. You don’t kill. That’s a damn lie.”

“We don’t.”

“You’ve checked up on ever criminal then?”

“What?” Superman asked, thrown by the sudden question.

“Every criminal you’ve fought, every mugger and back robber and goon, you’ve followed up to see how they’re doing the next day, month, year?”

Superman had that lemon sucking twist to his face again. “No?”

“So you don’t really know, do you, how many criminals walked away from you only to die of brain hemorrhaging later because you punched them into a wall. Or how many died from a complication to their lungs or spine or heart because Black Canary ruptured something with her wail or Flash fucked from contact with the Speedforce. It’s not that you haven’t killed, it’s just that you don’t know how many you’ve killed. It’s impossible to act on the scale that you do and not have killed,” Danny said with certainty.

“Nightingale, I believe you’ve made your point,” Wonder Woman said, still calm, still patient. She was different from the others. She has killed, Danny knew that; she was an Amazon. He remembered his stories from Pandora.

“Have I?” Danny asked. He let go of Red Hood as he stood to lean over onto the table. Danny could feel that snarl building up in his throat again now. The other reached out to touch him again right away. The snarl calmed a little, only a little. “Because what about when Superman has used a building as a barrier to smack an enemy into? No one was ever hurt there? No grannie ever slipped and fell as the building shook and never got up again? At least that would be an accident then, unlike punching someone to death, but don’t pretend your hands aren’t red. Don’t pretend—”

The hiss of the door opening cut Danny off.

The room feel silent.

Danny could see all the heroes tense.

From behind him a voice spoke up, “Well, aren’t you all dramatic.”

--- AN: The mysterious stranger is right! They are all dramatic. Danny was about ready to go for Superman's throat-- literally and just not figuratively. Hope you enjoyed how this all played out! I know people were waiting for Danny to let loose some. Fatigue is hitting me hard right now, so glad to have gotten this out!

Stay delightful, darlings!

I no longer tag, you can instead subscribe to the masterpost!

#dp x dc #dead on main #dead on main street #both ways at once

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runninriot · 3 months ago

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A Perfect Fit

written for @steddiemicrofic

october prompt: dress | wc: 350 | rated: T | tags: model!steve, established relationship, (self-)love and appreciation

Steve's body was made for this, posing in front of cameras, dressed in fancy designer clothes that cost more than most people make in a month. He loves it, the flashing lights, the praise, the admiring looks - it's addictive, makes him feel special. And to see the reward of strict diets and hours spent shaping his body to perfection staring back at him from magazine covers and billboard signs makes his chest swell with pride every time.

Some might call him shallow, a dumb model, a human mannequin that has nothing much to offer besides his looks - they don't know about the hard work and self-imposed abdication that come with the career he chose. But Steve doesn't care. Because the only opinion that matters besides his own, is Eddie's.

Eddie, who supports him even though he doesn't understand fashion like Steve does, who admires his devotion and loves him for who he is beneath the fabric and make-up and composed smiles. Who, as much as Steve loves to dress up, loves to undress him. Shed all his outer layers until he's left bare, with no pomp or glitz to hide behind.

No one else's eyes make him feel more desired. No one else's praise makes Steve feel so alive, so divine. No other light makes him shine like the one Eddie shares when they're coming undone in each other's passionate touch and love confessions in the form of doting kisses.

When Eddie calls him his pretty boy and Steve laughs because he knows he looks a mess. Believes him anyway because he never feels more beautiful than when he's anything but. When Eddie's love leaves him red-faced and sweaty, hair disheveled, body blemished with bruises, eyes droopy, skin stained. When there's no need to pretend-smile because the way his lips curl up comes naturally when he's happy just to be his purest, most honest self.

Maybe that's what his body was truly made for. To wear Eddie's love like a dress made of glitter and silk, hugging his body like a second skin.

A perfect fit, made just for him.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficoctober #small riots

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amethystarachnid · 2 months ago

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Please, please, can you write a second part of Room for Two for me? First, thank you so much for the first part, I loved it, and the cute way you wrote it, Dumpling is beautiful 😍🧡

But now, I’d love to see their life after graduation. Now they have their own beautiful house they bought together, the jobs of their dreams, married, another furry baby to keep Dumpling company, and maybe reader is already pregnant too? Imagine how cute it’ll be Tony and reader designing the baby’s room together? 🥺🧡

ROOM FOR TWO - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

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

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Multiverse

ᯓ★ Story type: short fanfic

ᯓ★ Part I

ᯓ★ Word count: 7.8k

ᯓ★ Summary: Graduation finally arrives and with it the struggles of being two fresh graduates with no clue on how the job world works. But you and Tony are sure you can do everything together, your love stronger than ever with a new fur baby and another big surprise on the way.

ᯓ★ TW(s): pure fluff, twin pregnancy

ᯓ★ AU: Accidental roommates

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

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 day of graduation is a blur of ceremony, speeches, and the sea of caps and gowns. You and Tony are sitting side-by-side, dressed in identical caps and gowns, trying to look like the solemn graduates you’re supposed to be, but Tony keeps leaning over to whisper comments in your ear about the people on stage or the terrible music playing in the background. You have to bite back laughter more than once, playfully elbowing him to get him to quiet down, though your cheeks ache from smiling. Dumpling would have loved to be here, you think, though she would probably be far more interested in batting at your tassels than the pomp and circumstance of it all.

Finally, you hear your names called, one after the other, and you step up to receive your diplomas, pride swelling in your chest as you glance over at Tony. When it’s his turn to walk across the stage, he makes a dramatic show of waving to the crowd, earning a mixture of laughter and eye rolls, and you can’t help but beam with pride. Despite all the ups and downs, the late-night study sessions, and the endless cups of coffee, you’ve both made it here together. You cheer him on, clapping so loudly you almost drown out the official applause, and when he walks back to you, he pulls you into a spontaneous hug, lifting you off your feet right in front of everyone.

After the ceremony, the campus is bustling with families and friends snapping photos, laughing, and celebrating, but for you, it’s just you and Tony. He tugs you aside, away from the crowd, down one of the quieter paths near the library. He’s grinning, eyes shining with excitement, and he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a slightly crumpled envelope with both your names written on it.

“Guess what?” he says, holding it up. “This came in the mail yesterday, and I figured, what better time to open it than right now?”

You look at him, heart pounding as you take the envelope. It’s from the company you both applied to—the one you’ve been dreaming about for years, the one that’s so competitive it felt like a long shot, even with your best efforts. Together, you tear open the envelope, unfolding the letter inside, scanning the words. When you reach the line that says, “We’re thrilled to offer you both positions,” you gasp, and Tony lets out a whoop, spinning you around in pure, unfiltered joy.

“We did it,” you say, voice full of disbelief as you look at him, the reality sinking in.

He’s grinning from ear to ear, pulling you into another hug. “We did it! We’re both in!” His enthusiasm is infectious, and you laugh, feeling like you’re on top of the world, the future stretching out in front of you like an open road.

With your new jobs confirmed, it’s only a matter of weeks before you and Tony pack up the apartment you’ve shared all this time and make plans to move to the city center, close to where you’ll both be working. The day you leave campus is bittersweet. You walk through the now-quiet campus one last time, reminiscing about the memories you’ve made here—the countless study sessions in the library, the late nights in the dorms, the spontaneous runs to the campus coffee shop when you needed an extra caffeine boost. It’s strange to think of leaving it all behind, but with Tony by your side, it feels less like an ending and more like a new chapter beginning.

Moving day is chaotic. Boxes are stacked everywhere, labeled in varying degrees of legibility, some scrawled by Tony’s messy handwriting, others by your own. Dumpling watches the commotion with wide, curious eyes, perched on top of the couch like a little queen surveying her kingdom. Every so often, she bats at a loose strip of packing tape or tries to squeeze herself into a box that’s far too small, and you and Tony can’t help but laugh at her antics.

The apartment you’ve chosen is perfect—or at least as perfect as two just-graduated college students can afford. It’s on the small side, with creaky floors and slightly outdated cabinets, but it has large windows that let in an abundance of light, and from the living room, you have a view of the bustling city below. The first night, you and Tony collapse onto the floor, too exhausted to even think about unpacking, Dumpling curling up between you as you lie there, looking up at the ceiling.

“I can’t believe we’re actually here,” Tony murmurs, reaching over to take your hand.

You squeeze his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. “I know. It doesn’t feel real yet.”

He turns his head to look at you, his eyes soft and filled with a warmth that makes your heart flutter. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “For… everything. For sticking with me, for helping me get here. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

You feel a lump in your throat, touched by his words. “Right back at you. I don’t think I’d have made it through some of those all-nighters without you keeping me sane.”

He laughs, a deep, genuine laugh, and in that moment, you realize just how lucky you are to have found him. You lean over, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling his smile against yours as he pulls you closer.

The weeks that follow are a whirlwind as you both adjust to your new jobs, new schedules, and life in the city. Dumpling quickly becomes a fixture in the apartment, staking out her favorite sunny spots and delighting in her new vantage points where she can watch the people and cars go by. She’s thrilled with the large windows, and you often find her perched on the windowsill, tail twitching as she watches the city below with wide, curious eyes.

Your jobs are demanding, but every evening, no matter how late you get home, you and Tony make time for each other. Some nights, you cook together, experimenting with simple recipes and laughing when things inevitably go wrong. Other nights, you order takeout and eat it right out of the containers, sprawled out on the couch with Dumpling tucked between you, her tiny head poking out to sniff at whatever you’re eating. It’s a routine that feels both familiar and new, comforting in its simplicity.

The city itself is vibrant and alive, filled with endless places to explore. On weekends, you and Tony take long walks through the streets, discovering hidden coffee shops, bookstores, and parks. Dumpling becomes a little explorer in her own right; you buy her a small harness and leash so she can accompany you to the park nearby. It’s amusing to watch her little paws gingerly tread over the grass, her eyes wide as she takes in the bustling world around her. Tony likes to joke that she’s a “city cat” now, and you find yourself snapping countless photos of her as she discovers her new territory.

One evening, after a particularly hectic day at work, you come home feeling drained, your shoulders tense from hours spent hunched over your desk. Tony senses it immediately and guides you to the couch, gently massaging your shoulders as Dumpling hops up, purring and nudging your hand. The three of you sit there in the soft, warm glow of the apartment, the stress of the day slowly melting away as Tony’s fingers work their magic.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice soothing, “no matter how rough the day is, coming home to you and Dumpling makes it all worth it.”

You look up at him, smiling softly. “I feel the same way.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and you close your eyes, savoring the quiet, intimate moment.

As time passes, you and Tony start to feel more settled. The city that once seemed so big and intimidating now feels like home, a place filled with familiar streets, favorite spots, and memories that you’ve created together. Your jobs are challenging but fulfilling, and each new accomplishment feels even more meaningful because you have Tony to share it with. Every so often, you still catch those envious glances from people on the street or coworkers who haven’t quite gotten over Tony’s charm, but it doesn’t bother you anymore. You know that he’s yours, just as much as you’re his, and that’s all that matters.

One night, as you’re lying in bed, Dumpling curled up at your feet, Tony turns to you with a thoughtful look on his face.

“I was thinking,” he begins, his tone hesitant, “what if… we stay here for good? Like, really settle down.”

You blink, surprised but not entirely caught off guard. You’ve thought about it, too—the idea of building a life here, with him, in this apartment, this city. You smile, reaching out to take his hand. “I think I’d like that.”

His face lights up, and he pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Me too,” he whispers.

It’s a simple moment, but it feels monumental, a promise of a future that you’re both excited to build together. You fall asleep that night with your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath you, Dumpling’s soft purring filling the room like a lullaby.

Years from now, you’ll look back on these days—the late-night takeout, the lazy weekends spent exploring the city, the quiet evenings in with Dumpling—and you’ll remember them as some of the best days of your life. Because here, in this little apartment, you’ve found everything you need. And as Tony holds you close, his arms wrapped around you, you know that, no matter where life takes you, you’ll always have this place, this moment, this love.

It starts on a rainy Thursday. You and Tony are on your way home after a particularly grueling day, the kind that feels like it should’ve ended hours ago. The two of you are drenched by the time you reach the apartment building’s front steps, even with the umbrella, and your only thought is getting inside, slipping into cozy clothes, and ordering something comforting for dinner.

Then you hear it—a tiny, pitiful meow that somehow cuts through the downpour.

You freeze, peering around in the dim light, your gaze finally landing on a small, soaked bundle huddled under the awning by the building’s door. It’s a kitten, barely larger than your hand, its fur matted from the rain, its big eyes wide with a mix of fear and desperation. It looks up at you, letting out another weak meow, and your heart shatters.

“Oh, no…” you murmur, already bending down to reach for it.

Tony follows, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Guess we’re going to have to get used to being a two-cat household, huh?” He gives you a small, fond smile, and the kitten reaches out a tentative paw, making a soft chirping noise. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

You laugh softly, ignoring his teasing as you gingerly pick up the shivering little creature, cradling it close to your chest. “Look at her, Tony,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “She’s just… she’s so helpless.”

He wraps an arm around you both, guiding you inside. “Alright, I’m sold,” he says, pulling the door open with his free hand. “Guess Dumpling’s getting a little sister.”

Once you’re in the apartment, you make quick work of finding a fluffy towel to dry her off while Tony prepares a shallow dish of warm milk. Dumpling, who’s lounging lazily on the back of the couch, eyes the new addition with the faintest hint of curiosity but seems more annoyed at the idea of sharing her territory.

The little orange kitten, still trembling slightly, settles into your lap, kneading her tiny paws into the fabric of the towel as she drinks, her eyes never leaving yours. You feel a warmth spreading through you, a fierce protectiveness over this small, vulnerable creature, and you can already imagine her becoming part of your little family.

As the days pass, she adjusts quickly. Her orange fur, now fluffy and clean, gives her the look of a tiny, mischievous tiger. She’s lively and fearless, pouncing on everything from Dumpling’s tail to Tony’s toes, chasing after shadows and batting at imaginary creatures with boundless energy. Tony, ever the playful spirit himself, takes to calling her “Pumpkin,” both for her orange coat and her wild, playful energy that fills the apartment with laughter and life.

“Pumpkin it is,” you say one night, watching as Tony gently scratches her behind the ears, his expression filled with such unguarded affection that it makes your heart ache.

Dumpling eventually warms up to her new sibling, the two of them becoming inseparable partners in crime, though Dumpling still looks at you from time to time as if to say, Wasn’t I enough?

It isn’t long after Pumpkin joins your little family that Tony makes the decision to leave his job. He’s been restless lately, his gaze often drifting out the apartment window as if he’s searching for something that’s just beyond his reach. When he talks about his work, you can sense his frustration, the feeling that he’s capable of more, that he’s meant to create something of his own.

One night, after the two of you have finally settled down for dinner and the cats are contentedly snoozing on the couch, he takes your hand, looking at you with that determined, focused expression that always signals he’s about to do something bold.

“I want to start my own company,” he says, voice steady but eyes betraying the hint of vulnerability beneath his determination. “I know it’s risky. I know it’s going to be hard—maybe harder than anything I’ve done before. But I need to do this. I want to create something… something that’s mine.”

You study his face, seeing the quiet intensity in his gaze, and you realize just how much this dream means to him. The job he has now might pay well, but it’s stifling him. You’ve seen him come home, drained and dissatisfied, too many nights, and you can’t bear the thought of him feeling trapped in a life that doesn’t fulfill him.

Taking a deep breath, you squeeze his hand. “Then do it, Tony. I believe in you. I know this is what you’re meant to do.”

His shoulders relax, and he lets out a long breath, his grip on your hand tightening. “You… you really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” You reach up, brushing a lock of hair from his face, smiling softly. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll keep working, and we’ll make it work. We’ve done harder things before, haven’t we?”

A small, grateful smile tugs at his lips, and he nods. “Yeah, we have.” His voice is thick with emotion, and he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how much it means to me… that you’re willing to do this. That you believe in me.”

With that, Tony makes the leap, leaving behind the stability of his job to throw himself into building his own business. At first, things are rougher than either of you anticipated. His days are consumed with meetings, networking events, late nights hunched over his laptop, trying to secure funding, struggling to get his ideas off the ground. The income you bring home is just enough to cover your essentials, and every month is a delicate balancing act, stretching paychecks and counting every penny.

Pumpkin and Dumpling seem to sense the shift, often curling up beside him as he works late into the night, their silent companionship a comfort amid the stress. Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night to find him still at his desk, eyes bleary but unwavering, his determination burning brighter than ever. You bring him coffee and gentle encouragement, rubbing his shoulders or simply sitting beside him, your presence grounding him as he pours everything he has into making his dream a reality.

But there are nights when the weight of it all becomes too much, when the bills pile up and the uncertainties loom large. One night, after an especially difficult week, he comes home, his face drawn and exhausted, his shoulders slumped with a heaviness you’ve never seen before. He sinks onto the couch, burying his face in his hands, and you feel your heart break at the sight of him so defeated.

You sit beside him, reaching out to gently rub his back, and he finally looks up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “What if… what if this doesn’t work?” he whispers, his voice cracking. “What if I’m just… dragging us both down?”

You shake your head, tears filling your own eyes as you reach for his hand, holding it tightly. “Tony, look at me,” you say, your voice trembling. “You’re not dragging us down. You’re trying to build something amazing, something that will change our lives. And I’m here because I believe in you. I love you, and I know that, no matter how long it takes, you’re going to make this work.”

A tear slips down his cheek, and he swipes at it, his expression crumbling as he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he’s afraid to let go. You cling to him just as fiercely, your own tears falling as you whisper reassurances, promises of a future that you’ll build together, no matter how long it takes or how hard it gets.

“You know…” he murmurs, voice muffled against your shoulder, “I’ve thought about what I’d do if things worked out. When things work out.” He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, his gaze filled with a raw, unguarded vulnerability. “I want to marry you. I want to make this official… as soon as I can give you the life you deserve.”

Your breath catches, and you reach up to touch his cheek, your thumb brushing away the tear that’s escaped. “Tony, I don’t need anything fancy. I don’t need a big house or a huge income. I just need you. This… everything we have here, with Pumpkin and Dumpling and us… this is all I need.”

He chokes out a laugh, his hand coming up to cover yours, his fingers trembling slightly. “You say that now, but one day… one day, I’m going to give you the world, I promise.”

You shake your head, smiling through your tears. “All I want is you, Tony. Just you.”

He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, and in that moment, all the worries, all the fears, fade away. It’s just the two of you, together, stronger than any struggle that comes your way. And as you sit there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you know that, no matter what challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together, with a love that can withstand anything.

The next day, Tony is back at his desk, his determination renewed, his drive stronger than ever. And each night, as you come home from work, you find him there, pushing forward, fueled by the promise he made to you. And slowly, bit by bit, his hard work begins to pay off. Clients come in, investors take notice, and his little company starts to grow, the future you both dreamed of coming within reach.

Years of grit, late nights, and unwavering resolve pay off, and Stark Industries becomes the name on everyone’s lips. Tony’s vision—a dream that he’d clung to even through the darkest moments—is finally a reality, and not just any reality but a monumental success. Word spreads quickly; clients are no longer just trickling in—they’re arriving in droves. Investors who had once overlooked Tony’s pitches now scramble to buy shares, and the profits start to soar. With every new partnership and product launch, Stark Industries climbs higher, taking Tony and you along for the ride.

And with this sudden, extraordinary success comes change. You and Tony move from your cozy apartment into a breathtaking penthouse, one with towering windows that offer a panoramic view of the glittering cityscape. The penthouse is all steel, glass, and modern sophistication, with soaring ceilings and an open layout that feels both grand and intimate. In the center of the space is a large, plush sectional that becomes Dumpling and Pumpkin’s new kingdom. They lounge on it as if they’ve always known that one day, this high-rise palace would be theirs.

On your first night in the new penthouse, you and Tony stand by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the city’s twinkling lights. He wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, both of you quiet as you take in the surreal view. You marvel at how far you’ve come together, from cramped dorm rooms and tight budgets to this—the culmination of years of relentless dedication and an unbreakable bond that had weathered everything thrown at it.

“I never thought we’d make it here,” you murmur, resting your hand over his. “It feels… unreal.”

He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your skin. “Believe me, I’m still processing it, too.” He turns you around to face him, his eyes warm and serious as he holds you close. “But I wouldn’t be here without you. Every time I doubted myself, every time I thought I couldn’t do this, you were there, telling me I could. I owe all of this to you.”

You shake your head, smiling as you look up at him. “We built this together, Tony. You and me. And Dumpling and Pumpkin,” you add, laughing as you glance over at your cats, who are now nestled together on the couch like two furry queens.

His gaze shifts, something tender and unspoken in his expression. “Then I think it’s time I make things official.”

You blink, momentarily confused, until he gently takes your hand, guiding you toward the center of the penthouse. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, dark blue velvet box. Your heart pounds as he opens it to reveal a stunning ring—a brilliant, intricately set diamond that catches the light, shimmering with a fire of its own. The sight of it takes your breath away, and for a moment, you can’t move, can’t speak, just staring at the symbol of everything you and Tony have built together.

He drops to one knee, his hand still holding yours, his eyes soft and filled with love. “From the first day we moved in together, I knew there was no one else I wanted to go through life with. You’ve been my partner, my inspiration, and my best friend through everything. And now… I want you to be my forever. Will you marry me?”

Tears sting your eyes, and you feel your heart swell with a joy so intense you can barely contain it. “Yes,” you manage, voice barely more than a whisper as you nod, the word coming out again, stronger this time. “Yes, Tony, of course!”

A relieved, joyful laugh escapes him as he slips the ring onto your finger, his hands trembling ever so slightly. He stands, pulling you into his arms, and you kiss him, the world around you blurring as the reality of it settles over you.

When you finally break the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours, both of you grinning like two love-struck kids. “I can’t wait to start forever with you,” he says softly, his voice choked with emotion.

“Neither can I.” You reach up, touching his face, memorizing every detail, every line and angle, your chest bursting with happiness.

Behind you, Dumpling and Pumpkin observe the moment with disinterest, already settling into the lavish life they seem to have instinctively known would one day belong to them. And as you and Tony hold each other in the dim glow of the penthouse lights, the city glittering below, you realize that every struggle, every sleepless night, and every whispered promise has led you here—to a life you’ve built together, and a future that, now, feels limitless.

The wedding planning unfolds with more ease and joy than you ever expected. With the newfound success and wealth, Tony insists that you both have the freedom to go all out. He’s so animated about the entire process—sifting through floral arrangements, sketching out seating charts, even excitedly browsing suit designs. Despite the resources at your disposal, though, you both agree: you want something beautiful, but simple. Intimate, elegant, a true celebration of all the quiet moments and love you’ve shared.

You choose a venue just outside the city, a sprawling garden tucked away in the countryside. It’s the kind of place that feels like magic, with sun-dappled fields, flowering vines, and a historic stone hall where the reception will take place. The guest list remains small, just close friends and family. Even so, the evening promises to be grand in its own understated way, the joy and anticipation electric in the air.

When the day arrives, the garden glows under the afternoon sun, warm and golden, with a gentle breeze stirring the air. Pumpkin and Dumpling are staying with a friend, probably napping in their usual lazy contentment, but somehow you feel their spirits there with you, a little touch of home that completes the day. As you walk down the aisle, the world fades around you. All you see is Tony, waiting at the end, his gaze fixed on you with a look of awe and wonder that makes you feel like the only person in the universe.

The ceremony is filled with laughter and love, heartfelt vows exchanged as tears shine in both your eyes. When he promises to love you “through every late night, every crazy dream, and every step of the journey,” his voice catches, and you reach for his hand, grounding him just as you always have.

The reception flows seamlessly afterward, your guests mingling under a canopy of twinkling lights, soft music drifting through the air. The food is impeccable, a blend of both your favorite dishes, and everyone laughs as Tony makes a dramatic toast, recounting the early days of your relationship with a fondness that leaves you both blushing and laughing.

As the evening deepens, waitstaff come around with glasses of wine, and laughter and merriment fill the air. You accept a glass to keep up appearances, even though you hold it without sipping. For weeks now, you’ve been carrying a secret close to your heart—a secret you’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to share.

Tony, as perceptive as ever, notices right away. As you’re both sharing a moment alone by the garden edge, he reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours as he lowers his voice, eyes narrowing in concern. “Hey, sweetheart, you’ve barely touched your wine. Are you okay?”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back a grin that’s threatening to spill over. You weren’t sure how you’d break the news to him, but this moment, here and now, feels absolutely right. With his warm hand around yours and the gentle scent of garden flowers in the air, you can already picture his reaction.

“Actually,” you begin, your heart racing, “there’s a reason for that.”

He tilts his head, eyes searching yours, the worry giving way to curiosity. “Yeah?”

Taking a deep breath, you look up at him, unable to hold back your smile any longer. “Tony… I’m pregnant. Just barely three months.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, the words sinking in as his face shifts from confusion to realization. His eyes widen, and his mouth opens slightly, but no words come out. You watch as the full meaning of what you’ve said washes over him, his face breaking into a brilliant smile that lights up his entire expression.

“Wait,” he finally manages, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re… we’re going to have a baby?”

You nod, feeling your own tears well up. “Yes. We’re going to be parents.”

He lets out a breathless laugh, pulling you into his arms and holding you tight, as if grounding himself in this incredible new reality. You feel his body tremble slightly, his joy spilling over as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, then pulls back, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looks at you with pure adoration.

“I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, brushing a tear from your cheek. “This… this is the best surprise of my life.”

He cups your face in his hands, leaning in to press a tender, lingering kiss to your lips, and when he pulls back, there’s a soft, awed smile playing on his lips. “I thought today couldn’t get any better, but you’ve just made it unforgettable.”

The rest of the evening is filled with stolen glances, whispered secrets, and shared smiles, the two of you reveling in the quiet, beautiful knowledge that your lives are about to change forever. As you sway together on the dance floor later that night, you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, knowing that this is only the beginning of the life you’ve always dreamed of—filled with love, laughter, and a new little heart soon to join your family.

The first few weeks after the wedding bring a unique and gentle kind of excitement as you and Tony settle into the rhythm of married life with a baby on the way. After sharing the news with close friends and family, your days fall into a new pattern—one where work, plans for the future, and a soft undercurrent of anticipation for the baby blend into the everyday. And soon enough, a single priority emerges above all else: the nursery.

Even though you’re still in the early months of your pregnancy, Tony’s enthusiasm is unmatched. He talks about colors, themes, and toys with a boyish excitement, and every spare moment is spent in one design store or another. He’s constantly coming home with inspiration, ideas, and sometimes items he “just couldn’t resist.”

“I found this mobile with little planets and stars,” he says one day, brandishing it with a grin. “Perfect for our little one’s room. Gotta start their science education early, right?”

You can’t help but laugh, heartwarming at the thought of your child growing up surrounded by so much love and wonder. But you’re more practical, balancing Tony’s big ideas with sensible additions—a crib, a changing table, and soft blankets, which you pick out in soothing shades of cream and soft blues, just neutral enough to work for a boy or a girl.

As the weeks pass, the nursery begins to take shape. Tony hangs the planetary mobile over the crib, which you’ve positioned in the middle of the room so it’s the first thing anyone sees. Together, you carefully arrange the toys and a few framed pictures on the walls, both of you quietly envisioning your little one growing up in this cozy, inviting space.

Your belly starts to swell slowly but steadily, each new centimeter adding to the wonder. And Tony is with you every step of the way—holding your hand during doctor’s visits, marveling at every new detail the ultrasound reveals. He’s so deeply invested, always asking questions, always curious, like every new milestone is a gift meant just for him.

One afternoon, as you sit cross-legged on the floor of the nursery, holding up tiny onesies to show Tony, he settles onto the floor beside you, a softness in his gaze as he looks at your growing belly. “You know, this is going to be the coolest room on the block,” he jokes, but his voice is thick with emotion. “Our little one’s going to love it.”

You smile back, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. “With a dad like you? They’ll think the whole world is theirs to explore.”

The crib is in place, toys line the shelves, and the walls have been painted in a soft, soothing gray that matches the stardust-themed curtains you picked out together. Everything feels perfect—until a few weeks later when, during a routine checkup, your doctor squints at the ultrasound screen with an unusual expression.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, exchanging a glance with Tony, who’s squeezing your hand a little too tightly.

“Oh, everything’s fine,” she says, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “In fact, I’d say it’s more than fine. You’re expecting twins.”

For a moment, you and Tony are completely silent, processing the news in stunned, joyful disbelief. And then you both burst into laughter, a mix of joy and shock filling the room.

“Twins?” Tony repeats, still sounding amazed. “We’re… we’re going to have two babies?”

“Yes,” the doctor says, grinning at your astonished expressions. “Two baby girls, actually. Congratulations, you two.”

Two baby girls. The words echo in your mind, and you feel your eyes well up as you look at Tony. He’s staring at you, his face lighting up with a combination of surprise, joy, and a hint of panic. But as he pulls you into a gentle embrace, you feel the excitement in his arms, the unspoken promise that he’s ready for this—whatever it brings.

When you get home, the nursery takes on a whole new meaning. Suddenly, the space feels smaller, and your original design plans are tossed out the window as you begin to reimagine the room for two little girls. The next few days become a whirlwind of rearranging, replanning, and revisiting every decision you’d made so far.

“We’ll need two cribs,” Tony says, scratching his head as he stands in the center of the room, staring at the carefully arranged furniture. “And more storage for all their clothes and toys… not to mention double the diapers. Oh, and I’ll have to get another mobile!”

You laugh, watching him slip seamlessly into his role as both planner and dad, and as the weeks pass, the nursery undergoes a complete transformation. The single crib is replaced by two, positioned side by side, each one adorned with matching linens and soft, embroidered blankets. You pick out another mobile with tiny animals to hang over the second crib, so each girl will have her own special piece above her.

Tony throws himself into every decision with all his heart. Together, you select two cozy rocking chairs—one for each side of the room—where you’ll be able to sit and feed them, or rock them to sleep on those long, quiet nights. You add a second changing table and rearrange the closet to fit all the tiny, beautiful outfits you’ve picked out, each one smaller and softer than the last. And you feel a warm, tender satisfaction knowing that everything has been done with love, crafted by your own hands and Tony’s for your daughters.

Your belly grows steadily, more rapidly now with twins on the way, and as your body changes, Tony’s attentiveness only grows. He talks to your belly every night, telling stories, asking the girls to kick for him. Sometimes, when he thinks you’re asleep, you feel his gentle hand on your stomach, his whispering voice, as if he’s having a private conversation with your babies, sharing his dreams and promises for the life they’ll share.

One evening, Tony catches you staring at the nursery with a wistful smile, your hands cradling your growing belly.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“I was just thinking about how much our lives are going to change,” you say softly, leaning back against him. “Two little girls… I can’t believe it.”

He chuckles, resting a hand on your belly. “It’s going to be chaos,” he admits, but his tone is warm, filled with love. “But the best kind of chaos.”

The following weeks are a whirlwind of final touches. You and Tony spend countless hours folding tiny clothes, arranging stuffed animals, and adding little decorative touches that make the room feel alive with warmth and anticipation. One wall becomes a gallery of framed prints with soft pastel colors and uplifting quotes, each one a small promise of the happiness that will fill this room.

As your belly grows rounder and the due date draws nearer, Tony becomes even more doting, always ready with snacks, pillows, or gentle foot massages. He attends every doctor’s appointment without fail, his face lighting up at every ultrasound, marveling at the sight of his daughters as they grow. Your heart swells every time you see him so in love with them, even before they’ve taken their first breath.

One evening, as you both lie in bed, Tony turns to you, his face shadowed by a soft, thoughtful look. “What do you think they’ll be like?” he murmurs, brushing a hand tenderly over your belly.

You smile, imagining two tiny faces, two sets of eyes staring up at you. “I think they’ll be perfect. Little pieces of you and me, each with their own personalities.” You feel a slight movement, and Tony’s eyes light up as he feels it too. “They’ll be our little adventure,” you add, feeling your throat tighten with emotion.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I can’t wait to meet them,” he whispers, his voice filled with a quiet awe. “And I can’t wait to see you with them. You’re already the best mom.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you rest your hand over his. “And you’re going to be the best dad, Tony.”

As the weeks pass, you and Tony spend as much time as possible in the nursery, each addition and detail reminding you of the life you’re about to welcome. The two cribs stand proudly side by side, the mobile planets casting soft shadows across the room. Dumpling and Pumpkin occasionally wander in, curling up by the rocking chairs, as if they, too, are awaiting the arrival of their new family members.

One night, just as the final touches are complete, Tony holds your hand, guiding you into the nursery one last time. He flicks on a small, warm lamp, the soft glow illuminating every corner of the room.

“What do you think?” he asks, his gaze moving over the room, his expression one of pride and love.

You look around, feeling your heart swell as you take in the space you’ve created together. It’s everything you’d dreamed of—soft, warm, and filled with love. “It’s perfect,” you whisper, turning to him. “They’re going to love it.”

He smiles, pulling you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Then it’s ready,” he murmurs, his voice filled with quiet satisfaction. “Just waiting on our girls now.”

The anticipation builds with each day, the love and excitement filling every corner of the nursery.

The birth of your daughters is a moment you and Tony will never forget. After hours of labor, Tony by your side every second, whispering words of encouragement and holding your hand, you finally hear the first cries of your little girls filling the room. The sound is miraculous, small and new, yet somehow commanding all the space in the room. The nurses place each baby in your arms, and the weight of them—tiny, warm, real—washes over you. Tony’s eyes are bright with unshed tears, his face a blend of awe and love as he looks down at his daughters, his whole world in that small, fragile bundle.

Your firstborn, nestled against you with sleepy eyes and the softest patch of dark hair, reaches up with a tiny hand, and you marvel at the delicate beauty of her fingers, so perfectly formed. Tony holds your second daughter, whose bright gaze and peach-fuzz hair make her seem even more precious, a tiny version of you in his arms. You exchange a tearful, joyful glance with him, each of you knowing that no words are necessary.

For names, you’d had many options in mind, but as you gaze down at your daughters, the choice is suddenly clear. Your firstborn, with her delicate, observant eyes, is named Lily—a name that feels soft and sweet, like the petals of a lily blossom. Your second daughter, who seems full of spirit from the moment she’s born, is Rose. Tony chuckles through his tears, noting that their names are like a garden, and you can already picture the flowers they’ll grow into, each one beautiful in her own way.

The first night back at home, you settle in, bracing yourselves for the new reality. The nursery, which had seemed so big and perfect for a family, now feels cozily filled with your two little daughters. The cribs are side by side, and you and Tony can hardly bear to put Lily and Rose down, both of you lingering at their bedside, watching every tiny movement, each sleepy yawn, and every rise and fall of their little chests.

Dumpling and Pumpkin approach with cautious curiosity, sniffing the air and stretching their necks to peer at the new arrivals. Dumpling, the more curious and daring of the two, pads up close to Rose’s crib, giving a soft, inquisitive meow as if to say, And who are these new tiny humans? Rose stirs, her tiny hand jerking in her sleep, and Dumpling looks up at you, blinking slowly in acceptance, as if she already senses her place as the older sibling.

Pumpkin, ever dignified, holds back, sitting primly at the nursery doorway, watching the scene with reserved interest. But as you and Tony return again and again to soothe Lily and Rose during the night, Pumpkin eventually follows, settling herself by the rocking chair in quiet acceptance, her large, round eyes trained on the new family members. Soon, the cats both settle in as quiet sentinels, occasionally creeping closer to observe, then curling up in the corners, as if keeping an eye on their new sisters.

Those first nights are a whirlwind of wonder and exhaustion, filled with soft cries, endless feedings, and groggy exchanges as you and Tony navigate this new world together. You take turns pacing the nursery with Lily and Rose, rocking them gently until they settle into sleep, only to start again a few hours later. It’s tiring, far beyond anything you’d imagined, but every time you look down at their tiny faces, any trace of fatigue fades.

One evening, Tony finds you in the rocking chair, Lily cradled against your chest as you hum softly to her, the glow from the small lamp casting a warm halo around you both. He watches from the doorway for a moment, and when you notice him, he smiles, coming over to brush a gentle hand over Lily’s head.

“They’re perfect,” he whispers, looking down at her with so much love it fills the room.

“They really are,” you whisper back, unable to take your eyes off her. Rose sleeps soundly in her crib, and you can’t help but marvel at how incredible it feels to have them both here, real and whole.

Tony takes over, cradling Lily in his arms and swaying gently, his eyes never leaving her face. You watch him, heart swelling with pride and gratitude, knowing that he’s already the most devoted father. He hums softly to her, a tune you recognize from his late nights tinkering away in the early days of his company, a melody he’d told you once he’d saved for his future children.

Each night becomes a precious ritual of shared wonder and care. You and Tony take turns holding the girls, whispering softly to them, marveling at their tiny fingers and the way they curl their fists while they sleep. And whenever one stirs, the other often follows, as if they already sense their twin bond, their hearts beating together even in sleep.

One evening, as you’re both sitting in the nursery, each holding a baby in your arms, you exchange a tired but joyful smile with Tony.

“Can you believe it?” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “Two little girls. Our girls.”

You nod, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “It’s everything I ever dreamed of… and more.”

He reaches over, his hand warm as it rests over yours. “Lily and Rose,” he says softly, looking down at them. “Our little flowers.”

In the weeks that follow, you and Tony fall into a rhythm. The days are a blur of feedings, naps, and little moments stolen here and there to catch your breath. Tony dives into his role as a father with everything he has, waking up for midnight feedings, changing diapers with surprising skill, and always finding a way to make you laugh even during the most chaotic moments. On those rare mornings when the girls nap in sync, he’ll bring you coffee, settling beside you on the couch with a look of contentment that makes your heart ache with happiness.

The girls are growing before your eyes, each day bringing a new discovery—a new expression, a tiny sound, a small fist reaching up toward your face. Dumpling and Pumpkin continue their watchful routines, following you to the nursery each time you go in, sometimes even curling up by the cribs as if silently promising to protect their human sisters. Pumpkin occasionally hops up onto the rocking chair, her head cocked to the side as she watches you and Tony with the girls, her silent approval clear in her wise, patient eyes.

One quiet afternoon, as the girls sleep peacefully, Tony pulls you close on the couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both steal a rare moment of peace. He lets out a contented sigh, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your arm.

“We’re pretty lucky, aren’t we?” he says, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I mean… look at them. Look at us.”

You lean your head against his shoulder, watching your little family, feeling a sense of wholeness that’s impossible to put into words. “We really are,” you whisper, the warmth in your chest blooming even more. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

He kisses the top of your head, a quiet promise, and for a moment, the two of you simply sit there, basking in the gentle, perfect chaos of your life together.

The nursery is full now, with soft giggles, sleepy murmurs, and the occasional curious sniff from Dumpling and Pumpkin. Every day with Lily and Rose is a new adventure, a new page in the story you and Tony have been writing together since the day you met. And as you watch him reach over to brush a gentle hand over Rose’s tiny head, his face softened with love, you know that the best parts of your story are only just beginning.

tony as a girl dad lives in my mind rent free, sorry not sorry. if you liked the story don't forget to leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow If you want to read more! <3

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thisblogisaboutabook · 10 months ago

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Wait imagine our girl and Eris getting closer and something happens that he has to put on his Heir of the Autumn Court face and not be mean, but maybe distant and cold to her? And she’s like nah I’ve seen this movie before and they have a big angsty moment alone about it and the next time he has to have that face, he includes her with him?

I am in love with your series, it’s all I think about 😭

Loved this request so much that I had to write it ASAP - the first time Y/N encountered Eris at a cross-court function after their initial hook up. A little bit different from your request but I hope you’ll enjoy it nevertheless.

Bad Idea, Right? Prequel

Headcanon

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

The second meeting between reader and Eris.

Part 7 - Part 7.5 - Part 8

Warnings: Language, Smut, MDNI, not proofread

Y/N

- She felt his presence before she saw him. His scent invading her nostrils from across the throne room.

-He was walking her way. His face drawn tight, eyes intense yet unreadable. His power rolled off of him. Oh, he was on full display tonight. The fiery heir of Autumn who’d slain his own father.

- Her heart raced as he grew closer. The tension between them palpable. Could anyone else sense it? She should shy away, look somewhere else but her eyes were fixated on only him. She was the magnet to his metal.

-Was he going to say something to her? Take her hand and whisk her into a dance? What were his intentions in this show of pomp and circumstance?

-She couldn’t bare the thought of her family seeing them together. It would be so complicated but even more so, she couldn’t flee. Damn them all if he pulled her into his orbit, who was she to refuse?

- He was steps away. Her heart beat in her throat. Her shadows begging to pull him closer

-Two more steps.

- The High Lord’s cold expression only turned cruel, calculating, as his nose turned up, lip curling. A sneer in her direction before his deep, gravely tone spat. “Little Shadowsinger.” as if she were nothing more than dirt on his shoe.

- She kept her expression flat. She knew that mask. She’d seen variants of it countless times in the court of nightmares with her own family. Her heart cracked slightly though she’d never let him see.

-She was stupid to think that he was different. She’d never allow herself to be so vulnerable toward him again.

——————

Eris

- He felt her heartbeat racing through the bond as he neared her

- He shouldn’t have walked her way but he couldn’t resist. He needed to be near her if only for a moment.

-Fuck, what was he doing? He needed to keep his distance.

-It was too late, he couldn’t change direction now. It would be too obvious to the plethora of attendees with their eyes fixated on him.

-He couldn’t put her at risk like that. Couldn’t let anyone sus out the way his heart longed for her. The way that bond pulled her near.

-And her, she was so young. Had so much to experience. It killed him, he wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his embrace, kiss her softly and whisper to her that she was his. HIS. His mate.

-The primal desire urging him to spend weeks holed up with her, taking her on every surface in his castle. Seat her on his throne as he took to his knees between her soft, supple thighs.

-Wanted to whisper how long he’d waited for her. How he could care for her in ways she’d never dreamt of. Would give her the life he never thought possible until his father had been taken out of the picture.

-No, he couldn’t. Not yet.

-He’d waited this long. He could wait longer.

-It gutted him to sneer at her but he couldn’t risk her being targeted. Couldn’t risk someone sensing this one-sided bond and using her against him. Someone harming her.

——————

Y/N

-She was humiliated. She decided then and there that she would never be at his mercy again.

-He was just another arrogant High Lord, no different than any other nobility.

-She spent the rest of the evening in her shadows. There was no enjoying this function, just another odious show of power between courts.

-As the night wound down and all the noise became too much, she shrouded herself in shadow, exploring the silent corridors of the keep.

-Warm hands grabbed her. How he sensed her, she had no clue.

- “Get the fuck off of me, Eris”

- “Little shadowsinger, are you not happy to see me?”

- “Your whereabouts are of no concern to me.”

- “Are you certain? Your sweet scent and that pretty fluttering pulse told me otherwise”

- “Fuck you.”

- “My pleasure.” He crooned. “Crashing his lips into hers”

- Fuck, he felt so good. So good pushing her into an empty study. So fucking good groaning underneath her as she bounced on his thick cock. Filling her, stretching her in the perfect mix of pain and pleasure.

-She felt powerful as he wholly submitted to her. Her shadows binding him. Gagging him so that pretty mouth wouldn’t spew anymore ugly words.

-She would never let herself feel powerless against him again.

-No, he was hers to take when and how she pleased.

-And she knew he’d love every fucking second of it.

——————

Eris

-She was so fucking beautiful taking her pleasure from him.

-So fucking beautiful as her face contorted into that of ecstasy, only taking what she wanted. Those full, mouth-watering breasts bouncing as she rode him into oblivion.

-Her lovely moans filled the room, a symphony just for him. The song of his Shadowsinger.

-He would give her anything. Anything at all that she wanted to take from him.

-And someday, someday decades or centuries from now, she’d wear that mask of power with him. The mask of his High Lady. The true powerhouse of his court.

-Until then, he’d take whatever she’d offer him and ask for nothing more.

——————————————————-

Tags: @b0xerdancer-writes @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thelov3lybookworm @starryhiraeth @5moremin @azrielsmate3 @coolepowersthings @isa1b2h3 @inloveallthetime @julesofvolterra @deeshag @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @courtofbatboydreams

Sorry for tagging you all in two posts in one day. Some days the creative juices flow a little too strongly.

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bcolfanfic · 5 months ago

Note

I had to request this for clegan: ^ maybe it's the other way around, and they have to defend their partner from the parents themselves. left shocked that someone could treat their own child like that.

this is something i want to flesh out more if i ever actually write/publish fork in the road (the young vets au backstory bible) but since idk when or if that’s gonna happen let’s blurb it here for now <3 for those unfamiliar with military jargon- getting ‘tapped out’ is something that happens at basic training graduation. you’re all standing there in formation and can’t ‘break’ until your family/partner etc finds you and hugs you or something. typically if people don’t have anyone to tap them out a friend’s family member does it (: in terms of the yv au timeline- the bucks are *not* together at this point and gale still has marge back home. alongside a rapidly developing crush on his new friend from basic (: also gale is 21, bucky is 23/almost 24.

/ / /

fork in the road blurb / a young veterans au prologue snippet

Gale knew his father was drunk before he even realized he could smell it on him. Knew from how he grabbed his shoulder, calloused hand bunching the fabric of his uniform as he pulled him into what could best be described as an awkward side hug. He was mumbling something about how he was proud of him, his mother echoing the gibberish like everything was fine.

His stomach flipped over on itself, and he wished Marjorie’s flight hadn’t been cancelled.

“Really Gale, this is just wonderful.” His mother cooed as his dad stepped out of her way, wobbling. She brushed past him like she was purposefully trying to ignore the obvious, and Gale thought to himself how ridiculous the act was. She’d been with him all morning.

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, biting on the inside of his cheek before he spoke.

“Why’d you let him show up like this?”

“There he is- Buck!”

John’s voice startled him and relieved him all at once. When he turned to find him he was weaving through people with his mother on his heels, grin as wide as it always was.

He pulled him into a hug before he said anything else- a hug much nicer than the one from his dad. John squeezed him twice before he pulled back, exhaling.

“We did it, whadya know?” He said with a laugh, and Gale couldn’t help but smile at him. Up until smelling the liquor on his father's breath the intent of the graduation pomp and circumstance had worked on him. Pride in himself that he wasn't sure he'd felt before made roots in his chest.

But it was short lived.

“Hey- who the hell is this?” His father interjected, taking a shaky step forward, gesturing between him and John with one hand. “The rumors about what you boys get up to without your girls around in these places true?”

The Texas sun bearing down on them was hot, but Gale’s face suddenly felt as though it was burning on its own accord.

He didn’t mean it- didn’t know, couldn’t know unless he’d developed osmosis powers you could only gather from the bottom of the bottle. But John’s face contorted, and Gale wanted to throw up.

“Dad.” He said helplessly, shaking his friend's touch off his arm. “You- you need to go sober up before they kick you out, don’t want them to do that,”

Begging made him feel pathetic- the way he could see John’s mom looking at his mom made him feel pathetic- everything about what was going on made him want to sit down on the asphalt and crack in a way that would be embarrassing for a shiny new solider.

He was trying so hard not to do exactly that that he didn't register his father stepping closer till there was spit flying in his face.

“Sober- sober up- the fuck did you just say to me?”

He was embarrassed. Always got like this- got angry when he was embarrassed. Gale swallowed, anger bubbling in his own chest when he looked at his mom for help and she looked away.

“Hey, let’s not make a scene here, yeah?”

John’s voice cutting through the noise made Gale flinch, and his primal urge was to shoo him away, get him out of this mess he surely didn’t need to be involving himself in.

But it was nice to be stood up for.

His father blinked at the taller boy, squinting at him.

“You his lawyer?”

John laughed, low and deep- and whatever fuzziness Gale had about being stood up for was replaced by a sense of dread. He was sure this was going to end in him getting backhanded, right here in the middle of the graduation festivities.

"Nah- nah," John started, putting both hands up with a small shrug. "Just don't think lettin' some tempers take away from the moment here is serving anyone."

Gale watched as his father scrunched his face up, exhaling through his nose, popping one finger knuckle in his hand. He didn't say anything, a small mercy- which gave his mother the opportunity to press into his side without getting scolded at. She was speaking quietly- something about how they should go back to the hotel room, and Gale just stood awkwardly.

You're a solider, he thought- trying to straighten his back. You're above this now.

Expecting some sort of farewell before they took off at least, it took him a moment to realize his parents had departed without one. They were there- he looked up to blink back the stinging in his eyes, and when he lowered his eyes again they were gone.

The stinging returned in their absence.

"Oh, honey,"

John's mother nudged past her son to get to him, glancing in the direction his parents must have gone in. There was a frown on her face, that she tried to mask when she turned to him." You come out with John and I, okay? Get lunch somewhere nice,"

"Somewhere air conditioned." John groaned, letting out a dramatic huff as he propped his elbow up on Gale shoulder. He was laughing, clearly trying to take Gale's mind somewhere else. But when his laugh faded and his mom was occupied trying to find a restaurant on her phone, his eyes softened.

Gale met his gaze for a moment before the pity he found there made him reel back and look at the ground.

John didn't falter, giving the back of his neck a light squeeze.

"Your dad's a piece of shit," He started, and Gale almost laughed at how sincerely he said such a string of words. "But don't let him ruin this for you, yeah?"

His fingers brushed against his chest as he brought his hand down to tap the top of the Cleven name tag affixed to his uniform, looking at him expectantly.

"Yeah," Gale said, with a hard swallow. "Yeah, I'll try."

#young vets au #buck x bucky #clegan

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aringofsalt · 5 months ago

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💗 for bucktommy!

💗 - slow/gentle kiss

this got away from me a little bit but it is SO CUTE i just made my own heart hurt

The garden was beautiful.

One year on, Maddie and Chimney had decided on a quiet, intimate anniversary party. Close friends and family only, none of the over-exaggerated pomp that the Buckleys had encouraged the year before. The evening was winding down, most of the adults sitting around in the garden, under a sky painted in pinks and purples and dotted with string lights. The gaggle of kids who had been underfoot the whole day were now mostly tucked away in the living room, entertaining themselves with video games and snacks.

There were still a few people dancing in the open section of the courtyard they’d set up, but Tommy and Evan were tucked away on a bench off to the side, wrapped around each other. Evan, already happy and emotional for his sister, had only gotten sappier as the night—and the drinks—wore on, constantly reminded that this day had been a bit of a turning point not just for his sister and her husband, but for him and Tommy as well. They’d put up with more than a few teasing comments about their appearance from last year—Maddie’s friend Josh had straight up asked why both their faces were clean this time—but it had all been good-natured, and they were both feeling the love regardless.

The music changed, a few slower notes ringing out, and Tommy was surprised to recognise Norah Jones’ voice, one of his favourite songs from his favourite movie. He hadn’t really pegged Maddie as a fan, but maybe Howie had added it. Regardless, Evan was standing and holding out his hand, a soft smile on his face, and he rarely said no to that face.

Evan pulled him into the center of the floor, joining the other couples that had migrated over. They swayed together for a moment, and Tommy tipped his head forward to lean their foreheads together, enjoying the feeling of Evan’s arms around his shoulders and his own hands on Evan’s waist.

“Have I told you recently how glad I am that you agreed to my ridiculous attempt at a second date?” Evan murmured.

“You know, I think you last said it about an hour ago, so not recently enough,” Tommy teased. “And, really, it was the most eventful second date I could’ve asked for.”

“Good thing we like eventful.”

Evan pulled back a little, grabbing Tommy’s hands and spinning him around a few times just to see him laugh. When they settled again, Evan was pressed up behind him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

“I love you so much.”

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, but paused when Evan pulled away. He turned, confused, then even more confused when Evan’s face wasn’t where he expected it to be.

And then he looked down.

To where his boyfriend was kneeling, smile as bright as the setting sun, with a little black velvet box open on his outstretched hand, a thin band of hammered silver sitting in the middle.

“I know it’s fast, and we only just moved in together,” he began, “but I also know that for the last year I’ve spent every day being grateful for you. That you let me figure myself out and still gave me a chance to love you the way you deserve.” He held out his free hand and Tommy took it gratefully, almost desperate for the lifeline. “I know I love you, and I know you love me,” Evan continued, his smile dropping into a more serious expression. “And I want to love you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.”

“Evan,” Tommy breathed, “of course.”

Evan’s smile returned, almost blinding, and he all but threw the box to the ground in his haste to slide the ring onto Tommy’s finger. Their friends were cheering and clapping around them, but Tommy barely heard them, focused on the way Evan pressed a slow, gentle kiss to each of his knuckles before rising to his feet. He was barely upright before Tommy was taking his face in his hands and kissing him deeply. They broke apart to the sounds of wolf whistles, and it was then he realised that everyone was now gathered around them.

“Told you he’d say yes,” Evan gloated to Eddie and Hen, who both rolled their eyes at him.

“Nobody doubted that for a second, asshole,” Eddie said fondly.

“Sorry for stealing your thunder, again,” Tommy told Maddie with a rueful smile as she hugged him.

“Oh, are you kidding? I told him he had to do this as soon as he told me he was thinking about asking you,” she said with a laugh. “I told him he had to invite you to the wedding, too. I’m taking like, seventy-five percent of the credit for your relationship, by the way. He needs a kick in the ass sometimes.”

��Hey!”

—

Later that evening, once the congratulations were done and they’d had one last celebratory glass of champagne, Tommy had a sleepy Evan tucked under his arm as they waited for their Uber home.

“So, uh, is now a good time to tell you I have something for you hidden in the back of my tea drawer?”

—

this is the song they dance to btw! i have never seen love actually but i wanted to use a song from the soundtrack and i think this one is pretty sweet. buck absolutely asked maddie to put this on their little party playlist for him when they planned this.

#911 #bucktommy #kinley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 fic #bucktommy fic #asked and answered #starryeyedjanai #my fic

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heretherebedork · 1 month ago

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Hey, here's the quiet part.

This ending is stupid.

A bomb collar?

Rose, Joke and Save being the ones kidnapped as if they have any equal emotional worth or importance in the show?

Jack being railroaded into saving Joke and never getting a choice?

Boss somehow still having so much power he can kidnap and threaten them with all of this pomp and circumstance despite losing everything?

Jack yelling at them not to touch his boyfriend in a big fight scene after, you know, breaking up with him and telling everyone not to even say his name?

Frankly, the entire ending has nothing to do with the rest of the show or the mood of the show. Bomb collars!? Hangman!?

Why did the last episode spend so much time on the monopoly game and the dog acting when we could have been working on the emotional points of Jack and Joke's relationships or maybe on the friendships that Joke built trying to help him instead of following Jack blindly?

Jack never went to visit Toi Ting in the hospital!? REALLY!? Joke managed to get there!

Save and Hope are a big part of the finale? Where the fuck were they during the rest of the show!? Why is Save suddenly so important and his betrayal so big!? We never even saw him and Jack in a scene together that meant anything before that!?

Also, why were Save and Hope in a supposedly secret relationship to everyone but Boss obviously knew and was using it against them.... so why bother being secret about it? Save even said he was being secretive because of the debt but like... Boss was already using their debt and relationship against them so what sense does that make!? I'm sorry, this is the most confusing part to me. Like, it feels like they forgot the plot point they're made before.

And so much foreshadowing that was apparently just a throw away line?!?! Joke threatening to steal the ring back from Boss? Jack saying they might have to kill Joke? Those lines aren't going anywhere. They don't mean anything. So why were they there?!

Bonus: I'm sorry, the monopoly game? Way too on the nose in terms of commentary and not that interesting on insightful.

#criticism #i am just a little frustrated and rather disappointed #negative #no tags here #i am strugglebussing it #y'all i am strugglebussing #saying the quiet part outloud #spoilers

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mochipatch · 1 month ago

Text

Something to Prove and Nothing to Lose

Ricky: YES YES YES! This is a masterclass, Carlos, good job!

Carlos: Yes! Yes! Thank you! Ahh, this feels so good! Forza Ferrari!

It was the perfect weekend. It is the ideal weekend.

He had been feeling it since the end of the month-long break. This uphill climb in 2024 is the hardest thing he has fought in his racing career, losing a seat to a seven-time world champion, scrambling on his feet to get back up and find a team that will welcome him with open arms (a top team is a bonus), where he could find a new home. With the second break coming to an end. He started to feel it. He can feel it thrumming in his veins.

He felt it at COTA. He had it on hand. First, on FP1, Sprint Qualifying could have gone better, but he gritted his teeth, taking in on every opportunity. Ultimately, it was P2, which was good but not good enough. Qualifying felt good until a red flag aborted his run, which could have been pole. He had a good start, but the squabble between Max and Lando caught him in a bind, which was not the same with Charles, who got away smoothly and led laps to victory while he ended in P2. He always said he wanted another win before leaving Ferrari in his interviews. Time is running out with six races left, and he is P2. Frustrated, he could have done better but was a victim of circumstance. The racing gods whispering in his head - No, not yet.

The celebration of the team in their motorhome felt like the start of a goodbye. Maybe this is what it all could be - a podium but never a win. So he tried to soak it all up, disappointment emanating from every pore in his body but trying to be happy because he would not be a person to rob off a good celebration for a team, the team that he has bled red for ever since his childhood dream team opened its door to him, much less a teammate that he considers a good friend and a good motivator to be better.

We will go and start again is his mantra.

Mexico is always a lively affair with all the pomp and circumstance. He never finished on the podium in this circuit, but the free practices felt promising, placing him in the top 3 every time. Qualifying was nerve-wracking in Q1 and Q3, but something clicked in Q3, and he got two lap times that ensured him pole position on both occasions. He savors the high, the adrenaline rushing through him. He is giggly and all joyous, as if he is already on the podium. Everything felt right. A thought ran through his head - Is this my time? Asking the voice in his head, which denied him COTA. No one answered.

It’s lights out, and away we go.

He is off to a good start, but Max is even better. He tried his darndest to defend, but Max got the upper hand; he had nothing to lose now, but crashing was not an option, so he chose to run to the grass and give back the position. Is this your answer to my question? He asks again. A safety car allowed him to be closer to Max, but it was only until lap 9 that he decided to take charge. Damned be the racing gods, he will take charge. He overtakes Max, but Max isn’t going down without a fight. But by the skin of his teeth, he takes the lead and defends the overtake. He manages his tires, looking for every variable that could go wrong. He won’t be comfortable until he crosses the checkered flag. He has hunted, and the 19 drivers behind him will hunt him down to take his place if a sliver of opportunity arises. As lap 71 nears, he grows more and more confident. He knows Lando is catching up with the gap closing into 4 seconds, but he knows that the laps will not be enough to catch him. It's the last lap; he aims to go to their side once he sees the pit wall. He spots a pit board and the people in red climbing the fence, raising their fists and yelling, never mind that the roar of the engines drowns out their voices. He crosses the checkered flag, and his mind blanks for a second. He did it. He did it.

HE FUCKING DID IT.

He hears Ricky's radio, and he answers on autopilot. Thanking Ferrari, thanking the team that let him bleed red even if it left him feeling nothing, for letting him walk through the doors of history, of legacy. He parks his car in front of the P1 sign board, and it takes him a second to process what happened. He gets out of the car, and there is something in the crowd's layout that feels like this win was just made for him. The mechanics pull him into a hug, and he hugs them just as fiercely, hoping his hold conveys his gratitude to them.

It was tradition for the winner to wear a sombrero while being lifted off the platform; he just wanted something simple for all the fanfare he had gone through this weekend. He opts out of the sombrero and just holds his helmet because it all boils down to this: he and his car. He raises his helmet to the crowd, pointing at his number, and takes in the crowd once more. Once the Spanish National Anthem plays out, everything comes to a head: the euphoria of the win in front of the Mexican crowd and his family on the audience, the tiredness from the season that has brought him, and the bittersweet feeling of what would have been. Before he knows it, he feels a prickle in his eyes and cheeks.

Oh.

He is crying.

The Italian anthem plays next when he hears a voice in his head. You did it. Your time has finally come once more.

He took charge and the racing gods granted his wish; he waited, and he finally had it.

#carlos sainz #f1 #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #austin gp 2024 #mexican gp 2024

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chainoftalent · 4 months ago

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Can i ask for koiki/pg kokichi yan headcannons?

Ah my boy Koiki, who's original iteration became so specific that he split off into an oc and pregame got given the much less cool name of Koiki.

Yandere PG Kokichi/Koiki Headcanons

Pregame Kokichi will be referred to as Koiki

Koiki's not an easy person to catch the eye of, incredibly particular and somewhat secretly misanthrope, Koiki views everyone as just pawns and other game pieces for his quest to world domination. He's taken a lot of influence from the best character in Danganronpa, which he will fight about, Monaca Towa. Truly, she's everything he wants to be.

So he makes himself seem pleasant, sweet, naive even, as he peers up to you in those big round glasses in that soft woolen sweater. One would not be amiss to mistake him for a sheep, but with tongue and eyes as sharp as claws, beware the wolf in the sheep. He'll lie, cheat, steal, push down the stairs, and then blame you for all of it, because poor little bullied Class Rep Koiki could NEVER.

Though while everyone thinks they're friends with Koiki, Koiki feels nothing for them. No empathy, or pity, or sympathy, simply dominoes to line up. However, don't mistake this for a total detachment. He has his more early interests, like sweets, and especially animals. Koiki adores animals, seeing them as much more honest and understandable then people. People have all this pomp and charade and knives in backs, a dog is just a dog. Simply, effective, understandable. Truly what could a person give him that a cat or dog or bird couldn't?

With quite an ego and viewing himself as just inherently better then humanity, it's very very hard to make true attachments. Which does leave him a bit lonelier then he likes to admit. So this won't be a standard meet cute, no, this will be calculated. He'll see you around, just another pawn in his game, as he learns all your secrets. Then you break the scripts he had thought with you. You take him off guard, you call him out for a moment, or you rescue a dog from traffic, or you reveal that you were smarter then you appeared. Either way, you proved his calculations wrong.

And if there's something Koiki can't stand, it's being wrong because if he's wrong that means he's not perfect which means he's slacking, and he CANNOT have that.

So he focuses in on you, spends more time with you, trying to figure out where his calculations, his precious gears and pawns and plans, failed him.

He just can't seem to get it right though, maybe you don't want to be around him despite his charms, maybe you keep changing the rules he thinks he understands, for whatever reason he keeps failing.

Suddenly this isn't a pawn, or an actor, or just another shadow on the wall, but a person, like him, complex, complicated, alive.

He's never met another person before, just shadows and facades of what it means to be a person.

Such a rare occurance, such a thing he didn't think was possible

well....

it's certainly not boring, and he certainly isn't going to let something like that slip through his fingers. Oh no, you won't escape your new best friend so easily, and if you try, he'll make everyone hate you as the cruel cold person who spurred the sweetest kindest person in school...do you think your reputation could take that? your future? no? good, so put your hand in his, and dance this dangerous dance of dominance and conflict with him, and he won't blame you for a black eye.

#yandere danganronpa #ndrv3 #yandere #yandere ndrv3 #drv3 #x reader #danganronpa v3 #yandere kokichi ouma #yandere kokichi #yandere pregame #yandere pregame kokichi #yandere koiki #pregame

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punks-never-die205 · 5 months ago

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Been thinking about this lately but, which of the Kid pirates do you think has the highest alcohol tolerance? How many shots of whiskey can they do?

I feel like Wire would only get 3-4 shots in before he falls over and starts french kissing the floor.

I think their tolerances are higher than we'd expect. Pirating life does that to you, especially since low-level grog/ale would have less sanitary worries over the long haul than water.

But that's maybe a bit too much logistical realism in our funny pirate anime.

I think 3-4 shots is enough to get everyone chill. A couple people tipsy. 5-6 shots and there's drunk laughter scattering about even though nothing really funny was actually said.

7 shots and maybe Bubblegum is wearing a pretty pink bonnet and getting the other crew members to call him pretty. Because of his bonnet.

8 shots and a good bit of the crew (Mosh, Pomp, UK, Gig, REck, Papas and Compo) are starting a mosh pit, except there's no music and it turns into a game of duck, duck, goose.

9 shots and Heat's drawing his tattoo design on Wire with grease crayons, and Wire's letting him. Quincy is pulling small arms out of her hat and Hip and Hop are just clear headed enough to confirm that all the bullets were removed earlier.

10 shots in and Kid is looking a little regretful, but he's not going to admit it yet, and Moai and Jaguar are out - they keep stopping and starting Row, Row, Row Your Boat and mixing it up with In The Hall of the Mountain King.

11 shots and nothing changes, but a few duck, duck, goose players are asleep.

12 shots in and Kid is telling Killer how pretty his eyes are, but Killer's still wearing his mask. He's respond, but he actually fell asleep just after the 10th shot and no one noticed.

13 shots in, it's just House and Emma, but House concedes, because in all their years as a crew, no one has out drank Emma, and hardly showing signs of being tipsy as it is.

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analogwriting · 8 months ago

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The Other Side of Paradise

Chapter One: Poplar St

Killer x gn!reader word count: 1.6k first|next a/n: i know this is shorter pls bear w me as i get back into the swing of things trustttt the rest will be longer kinda laying the land a bit

As you pulled up to your house, loud music was playing from the closed garage; as it always did. You climbed out of your car, stretching a bit before heading inside. Once inside, you headed down the hallway to the door leading into the garage. You couldn’t open the large door as things were hanging on it and it wasn’t like there was any room to park in there anyway. It was more of a large hangout space than a place to park your vehicle. Besides, you had plenty of driveway to park in.

As you opened the door, the music grew tenfold. You didn’t mind, however. It was something you were used to at this point. Kid had done exactly what he had set his heart on all those years ago. He formed his band with your friends once everyone reached their teens. He was the vocalist, sometimes playing the guitar. Heat was the lead guitarist and backup vocals. Wire was the bassist, sometimes playing the keyboard. Killer played the drums, also helping write a lot of the lyrics and composing the music.

They also were pretty good. They traveled to nearby cities and towns, playing in all kinds of places. Maybe you were biased, but you just knew they were going to be signed any day now.

The moment the door opened, Killer looked back at you, a large smile forming on his face as he kept playing. The others hadn’t noticed you as they were facing away and too lost in playing to really notice, but Killer always could tell when you walked in. It was the deep connection the two of you shared. At least that’s what you told yourself. He was your boyfriend after all, even after all these years.

You walked over to him with a large smile, leaning down and kissing him softly. He didn’t miss a beat, still playing his drums as he kissed you. The two of you knew better than to interrupt practice, Kid had yelled at you plenty of times for it. So, Killer became very skilled at multitasking. Well, at least in the form of kissing you while he played.

You pulled away, smiling at him for a moment, him returning the smile. You kissed him one more time before letting him be. You had homework and he needed to focus. When you turned, you noticed Hop sitting on the couch, reading with a sleeping Dive slung across her lap. You snorted at the sight, settling in on the other side of the couch.

Hop looked at you, waving. You returned the wave before diving into your homework, wanting to finish it before practice ended. You couldn’t exactly talk when the music was as loud as it was.

During the duration of their practice, people came and went. Gig and Pomp stopped by, dropping off some snacks before heading off to their afternoon classes. Hip and Bubblegum popped by, sitting and chilling for a while before heading back out as well.

That’s the way your house worked nowadays. Your mother passed a couple years ago, leaving you the house and a good enough inheritance to keep you comfortable. Kid had always lived with you and your mother, so of course he was always at the house. Killer had stayed with you most of the time after your mother passed, knowing how close the two of you were. It had been rough of you. He had also been close with her, of course. He eventually just…never left. He had a spare key since your teens, so he was already a part of the household basically.

Your friend group had grown so much and with everyone having crazy schedules, it wasn’t like you could just…hang out in a big group like you used to. Sure, sometimes the stars aligned and you were able to have some kind of get together with everyone, but this more casual way was easier for everyone. People came and went, hanging out for as long as they liked or as little as they liked. The fridge and cabinets were always full of snacks and food that people brought. There were different game consoles, tv screens, the likes spread throughout all the rooms. It was just one giant hangout spot and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You left the backdoor unlocked at all times. You had a fenced in backyard, but there was always someone you trusted at the house at all times so you didn’t have to worry otherwise. Besides, you’d been in this neighborhood for so long, you knew everyone.

You suddenly felt strong arms wrap around you and lift you up. You slowly woke up, not even realizing you had fallen asleep. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” Killer’s voice was low as he pressed a kiss to your temple. You yawned, shaking your head. “It’s alright. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep. How long was I out?” You snorted, looking up at him and kissing him.

“Not too long. We just finished up.”

“How was practice?” You looked over, seeing that Hop and Dive had left. It was just you and the four who were just playing.

“It went good as usual, but there’s something missing,” Kid said, drawing your attention. You immediately rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where this was going.

“Tungsten, I’ve already told you. I’m not joining.”

Kid groaned loudly. “But why not! Your soft vocals would provide the coolest dynamic!” He flopped into the recliner across from you, slightly pouting.

“You know why.” You rolled your eyes, folding your arms. “Singing and all that in front of you guys and our friends is one thing, but it’s completely different going on stage in front of tons and tons of strangers.” You shook your head. “The pressure is too much.”

“Laaaaaame.” He huffed, cracking open a beer and drinking it.

“You guys are doing just fine without me.” You shook your head.

“We’d do better with you,” Kid was definitely pouting at this point. It was like he was still a child sometimes. Always pouting when he didn’t get his way. He decided to switch topics, talking to Wire about something or another, you stopped paying attention as you rested against your boyfriend.

“I love it when the light sits on you just right,” Killer randomly mused. You looked at him, confused by his words. He always said the most random things, but they always ended up being really sweet.

“What are you saying right now?”

He handed you his phone and you slowly took it, still unsure what he was getting at. The lockscreen woke up as you held it and it was a picture of you. He had clearly just taken in as you were wearing exactly what you did in the picture. You were also asleep. He was right - the light that came through the highset windows in the garage hit you just right, illuminating you in a way that made you look like a sleeping angel.

You immediately felt your face heat up and he spoke again, “Good picture, isn’t it?” He was right. It was a good picture. It was almost unbelievable that it was you. A lazy smile stretched across his face. “Still doesn’t compare to the real thing, though.”

“That’s it! I’m not watching this!” Kid stood up, flinging his hands in the air and heading inside. “I’m seeing if anyone happened to make some cabbage rolls.”

“I was gonna make some tonight!” you called as he left. You weren’t even sure if he heard you. You snorted, shaking your head.

“Oh, by the way. Be ready on Friday.” You looked to Killer with a confused expression once more. He was really pulling things out of thin air today. He was just hitting you left and right today. “What’s Friday?”

“We’re gonna have a date night. It’s been a couple weeks and I can’t remember the last time we went out - just us.”

He was right. Usually when you went out, someone was always tagging along. You were typically always accompanied by one or more of your friends. You didn’t hate it, but sometimes you just wanted it to be just the two of you. “I have some news to share, too.”

You immediately perked up. “What news?” You searched his face as if it were written on him somewhere.

“I’ll tell you Friday.” He shrugged, a smirk on his face and you groaned. “Killi, that’s not fair. That’s three days away! You’re killing me!” You flopped against him, folding your arms and pouting.

You might not have been much better than Kid sometimes. It seemed some things ran in the family.

“Oh, you’ll be just fine.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I figured we could go to a movie then go to that new smoothie place you’ve been wanting to try.”

Your face brightened as you sat up, turning to face him. “Really?” A new smoothie place had opened up downtown and you’d been dying to try it. You wanted to try it with Killer because you always tried new places together, but Kid had been hounding on practice even more as of late, so you didn’t get to see Killer as much.

Killer chuckled softly, nodding. “Yes, really. We can go to the movies right after you get out of class. Or we can go to the smoothie place first then go to the movies.”

“I like that plan better. A smoothie after a long week of school work sounds like a good treat.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and relaxing against him.

He grinned right back. “It’s a date then.” Then he kissed you, leaving you all sorts of excited for Friday.

first|next

#i knew that if i put the date in here it'd make things way too long #also fun fact when i was in college #my friends had a house they lived at #like four of em #and their house was like yn's house #people came and went cause it was always unlocked and there was always someone home #i had a lot of good memories in that house rip buddy #anyway #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #am fics #killer one piece #killer x reader #killer #massacre soldier killer #tosp

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nethhiri · 10 months ago

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Marooned: Chapter 14

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: binge drinking

Party time. Excellent!

The deck was full of Kid Pirates well on their way to getting drunk. You waited until you could hear laughing and bickering and shouting before making your appearance. One, because you didn't want to be the first one there, waiting awkwardly, and two, because this type of thing was out of your wheelhouse. Parties, sure, you've enjoyed plenty of parties, but being celebrated and being the center of attention in a dress, no less, was something entirely different. If it was in a different setting, like a crew that was your own, conceivably you wouldn't feel so uncomfortable. You were grateful that the purpose of this was to also celebrate Killer's recovery. Maybe he would overshadow you, he certainly did in stature anyway.

I swear the first thing I'm gonna do when I get off this ship is buy pants. Sort of a tomboy growing up, you weren't drawn to wearing more feminine things and it felt foreign wearing a dress. You didn't have anything against it, in fact, you felt gorgeous, like a princess even, but pants were way more practical than dresses, especially in this line of work. You couldn't really complain though. You literally asked for this. Maybe I shouldn't have.

"C'mon, Mini." The boar happily trotted out behind you, ready to receive table scraps. You took in the sight on deck: barrels and crates turned into chairs and makeshift tables, along with some real tables and chairs, seemingly reserved for the higher ranked pirates, banners with their Jolly Roger strung up, extra torches, overflowing kegs, and happy, tipsy pirates: some were arm wrestling, some were playing cards, others were telling stories of battles past, a few were somehow already passed out. The men arm wrestling intrigued your competitive side, but you thought better of showing off your strength, if you still had it. Your eyes scanned through the crew until they saw Quincy's unruly, orange mane. Your heeled boot took one step in their direction before your ears perked up, hearing one of the men arm wrestling jab another by saying he couldn't even beat 'that woman'. All the sudden, your foot pivoted on its own.

The heels thunked against the wood of the deck as you walked with purpose towards the group and sat in front of the man who made the jab, throwing your elbow on the barrel-made-table. "Let's see you beat me then." You wiggled your fingers.

The man scoffed, then grinned and licked his lips. "Fine. If I win then you have to untie the top of your dress."

You rolled your eyes. "Wow, as if I couldn't guess." There was a pause as you thought. "If I win he gets to walk you around the deck like a dog," you said pointing to the guy who was previously insulted. They stared at you before bursting into fits of howling laughter, barking and making jokes at your challenger's expense. "See you have to be creative or it's not fun."

The blond man across from you, who you learned, from the jeers of his crewmates, was called Pomp. He put his hand in yours and rested his elbow on the table. His hand eclipsed yours, though not nearly as much as Kid's would. Not that you wanted your hand entwined with Kid's, definitely not. At the signal, your hands pushed against each other, fighting for a dominant hold. Your Y/E/C eyes bored into his. Part of you wished Quincy hadn't covered your scars so much, you weren't intimidating like this. What you didn't know was that you were intimidating like this, in a different way. Pomp's face was bright red with exertion, beads of sweat stated to break out on his brow, the back of his hand reaching ever closer to the table. You could see his mind struggling to understand how you were stronger than he was. "Start barking, bitch." His hand thunked against the table.

"No way." Pomp was more shocked than mad.

A blue haired man slapped him on the back, "Get on all fours, my friend."

"Fuck you, Reck."

You started to get up, intending to go sit with the girls, like you originally planned. However, your mind was changed when several of the men scrambled to get in the seat across from you, arguing over who got to try next. And that's how you ended up with: a human footstool, someone's gold tooth, a never-empty beer mug, a knife, a shoulder massage, some fucking pants, and Dive running some kind of betting ring. You were actually having fun. Quincy, Emma, and Dive had come over to see what was going on. At first, you bantered amongst yourselves, then some of the men joined in, and pretty soon you were all laughing together, except Pomp, who was barking, much to everyone's delight. You took a long drink of your beer, about to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, but stopping when you remembered you had lipstick on. It would be quite a sight to have dark lipstick smeared across your face.

"Where's my beer boy?" You tapped the butt of the mug on the wood. "I'm half-empty," you tsked.

One of the rookies scuttled over to grab it for a refill. "S-sorry, Ma'am."

Before he could turn, you grabbed his cheek in a pinch, "That's Ca-," you coughed. "That's Doc to you." Maybe I should cool I on the booze. It was easy to fall into your old ways, even easier now that you felt like yourself in this painted-on skin Quincy gave you. You almost slipped up. A heavy hand clapping you on the shoulder made you jump, releasing the boy. You looked up from your seat, expecting to see the Red Menace, instead looking into a blue and white helmet. "Did you want a try? Step right up. Test your strength." You grinned up at him cheekily.

He ignored that. "Captain wants you."

You leaned around him to see Kid's amber eyes staring at you. "When does he not?" You swore you heard Emma cough-whisper "captain-fucker" under her breath, the other girls snickering.

His hand moved down to grip your arm, firmly but gentle, and pulled you up from your seat.

"Fine. Fine. I'm coming." You snatched up your winnings, tucking the knife behind you under your belt and the tooth in the front. And, of course, grabbing your stein. You followed Killer to their table, where Kid, Heat, Wire, and a few others sat. Mini was too busy to follow, her in the background letting pirates see if they could throw apples directly into her mouth from across the ship. Killer went back to where he was sitting, leaving no more remaining seats. You already knew where this was going. Kid smirked and patted his lap. "I'll stand." You moved to stand behind Heat, who you felt the most comfortable with.

The captain scowled at you. "I'm not askin." When you still didn't move, he bribed, "Do ya want yer shit back?"

You begrudgingly moved toward him. "Gun, too."

"Whatever, doll."

He grabbed your waist and roughly pulled you down to his lap, a huff leaving you as you were brought back had against his firm chest. Your beer spilled over the edge of the mug and over your hand in the jostling movement. You set it down, and much to the chagrin of everyone, flung the dripping excess off your hand in their direction prior to wiping your hand on Kid's pant leg. He made a noise of displeasure. "What? I'm borrowing this," you plucked at the red fabric clinging to your body. "I don't want to spill beer on it."

"You look very nice in that color, Doc." Heat complimented.

"Thank you, Heat. At least someone on this ship knows how to treat a lady." You smiled in his direction before taking a drink.

The chest under you shook and your eardrums rattled as Kid's booming laugh rang out, "Oh ya put on a dress and a wee bit of makeup and all tha sudden yer a lay-dee," he drew out the last word in a mocking way.

That...kinda stung. A bubble of anger rose to the surface of your mind. Without fail, Kid had to ruin your good mood. Biting your tongue, you resisted the urge to lay into him. If you went too far in front of his top officers, you would be on his bad side. "What am I then?" You raised your eyebrow and glared at him, fully expecting him to say something crude.

He slapped a hand down on your leg and squeezed. "A pirate, ya dumbass."

Killer seemed almost as surprised as you that Kid said something not-mean, though hard to tell through the mask. You scooted his hand towards your knee, though he kept putting it back further up your thigh, so you gave up. They started talking about their plans for when they reached the next island and other things you hardly cared about. Taking the knife out of your belt, you spun it around idly on the table. It had been digging into your back. You kept drinking and chose to use this time to observe the crew. Killer looked like he had the same idea. You couldn't see where exactly his eyes were looking, however his mask was facing you. Your suspicion was all but confirmed when you turned to look directly at him and he looked away. You were about to ask him if he needed something when several plates were set down on the table, each with a different entree. All looked equally heavenly.

After several rounds of plates, including dessert, and drinks, everyone was full to the point of being uncomfortable. Except Mini, who was lapping up all the spilled beer, and you, who was staring down the last bite of chocolate cake on Killer's plate. Kid had shifted you from one leg to the other when his leg fell asleep, and you were now closer to Killer. He cleared his throat, "Do you... want the rest?" It took you a second to stumble through your inebriated fog before you realized he was talking to you. You nodded. He looked for a utensil to pick it up with, and when he failed he shrugged and picked it up with his hand. He held it out to put into your hand. Without a second thought, you leaned over, holding onto Kid's neck, and ate it straight from his fingers, licking them off and leaving a ring of lipstick around them as you came back up with a popping sound, giggling. The accidental innuendo was not lost on him, as red spread down his neck from underneath his helmet.

Kid tucked his head next to you on the side opposite Killer and spoke lowly into your ear, "Careful, Rotten. I'm not ready ta share ya yet."

"Fuck off. I just wanted cake." You chugged the rest of the beer in your mug, not caring that some dripped down the corner of your mouth, and turned around on his lap to face him. "And I'll fuck whoever I want." You grabbed either side of his vest and pulled him towards you, sloppily making out with him, tongues twisting, both tasting like beer, lipstick colors slowly blending together, unconsciously grinding against his thigh.

Kid pulled away. "Yer even more fun drunk." He took in your lust-filled eyes, now noticing that you replaced the log-pose he had taken. Some memory fluttered in the back of his mind when he took in your face like this. It was smothered by the filthy thoughts racing in his mind. It wouldn't be the first time he fucked someone in plain view.

Something you hadn't taken into consideration was that you hadn't had a drink in years. Your tolerance was that of a teenager sneaking booze from their parent's liquor cabinet. You would pass out soon, you could feel it, but first you felt your stomach flop. Oh no. You pushed Kid away as he went to kiss you again and covered your mouth, fighting wobbly legs to get off Kid and get to the banister.

Kid was about to protest you pushing him. Then he saw how green you looked. He pushed you off him and turned you in the right direction.

You made it to the railing in time to hurl over the side of the ship, having the wherewithal to move your hair out of the way. Your full body weight leaned on the railing as you puked up everything you ate in the reverse order. You cursed yourself for being this stupid. You don't know how many times you threw up before a warm hand rested on your back, patting it gently, while another one gathered your hair away from your face.

"Let it all out, darlin." It reminded Killer of his younger days with Kid. "It's okay." He was very familiar with the drunk-friend-babysitter role. He felt guilty for his part in helping get you wasted, constantly getting someone to fill your glass. He and Kid thought if you were drunk, maybe you would let some identifying information slip.

You grabbed around for his shirt so he couldn't leave you. "Killer, don't let me fall in." You hiccuped. "I can't swim."

Maybe it paid off after all, he thought.

#yes the title is why I was thinking of Wayne's world and drew that pic #I want Killer to baby me irl #massacre soldier killer x reader #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #kid x reader x killer #killer x reader #eustass kid x reader #one piece #marooned #x reader

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jasontodddidnothingwrong · 14 days ago

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You cannot convince me that Alfred Pennyworth is not Bruce Wayne's bio dad. Their weird fucking relationship makes so much more sense if that's true.

Let me set the scene:

So in whatever circumstance (maybe Martha cheats on Thomas w him, or maybe they're in a throuple, or Alfie donates sperm or smth) Alfie and Martha conceive a child. Maybe they plan to tell Bruce one day, maybe they didn't. Either way, when Thomas and Martha die, any chance of Alfie telling Bruce go out the window. How are you supposed to tell your kid that his dead mum cheated? That the dad he looked up to so much wasn't actually his biological father?

No. Alfred can never tell him. He already loves this boy too much to shatter the image of his parents for him. Maybe he loved Thomas and Martha too much to do it as well. Maybe he's too filled with guilt and shame for his part in Bruce's conception.

So Alfred raises him, and he hides behind pomp and circumstance because to him its better this way (and maybe it is). As his butler, Alfred still has a place in Bruce's life, one that doesn't come at the expense of Bruce's memories of his parents, or the bond between them. And if he slips a little, let's some of that love and pride and joy slip through, then, well, the boy could use some affection. As long as he's not taking Thomas' place.

And so as Bruce grows into an adult, Alfred watches him try to fill the hole Thomas and Martha left behind - the place where Alfie might have belonged in another life - and he enables it. He helps with Batman, and he helps raise Bruce's kids. Alfie enables him far more than he should, but he can't help it. He constantly puts Bruce first, even at the expense of others. Even at the expense of himself.

#the “good soldier” memorial makes so much more sense this way #like the man who's spent his life hiding behind a job finds it easier to cope when he relegates a lost loved one to a job #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #batman #dc comics #dc headcanon #dc stands for disregard canon

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cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme · 1 year ago

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Holiday Gift To A Good Friend

@ryuryuryuyurboat

Hey Yukari, think fast chucklenuts!

NOW THEN!!!

I WISH YOU HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! AND A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR!!!

Kaeya has complicated feelings about christmas…

He used to celebrate every year with Diluc and da- Mr. Rangdividr.

But now… well…

You can imagine how someone like Kaeya spends his time on the holiday’s when no one else is around.

For all of his pomp, all of his slutitude, Kaeya had very few people he could spend Christmas with.

Jean would be forced off of duty to spend time with her sister and her family, Amber would wrangle Eula, Lisa would join in, the rank and file would be having a party on christmas eve in the mess hall which had been lovingly decorated by everyone, including Klee.

And all of them made him feel like he was out of place, made him feel alone.

Maybe that’s why he was always so down during the month preceding it?

Don’t get it wrong, Kaeya loved christmas, so many happy people, so much joy, so much cheer!

It was impossible for him not to smile!

Nonetheless, he didn’t want to be alone for christmas.

It had been his wish every year since leaving Dawn Winery all those years ago.

And every year, through some miracle, it had been a wish granted.

And it was always the same person who granted that wish of his.

You.

From the first time the two of you met in the roaring snow to this year as the two of you sat cosied up next to the fire, warm cups of your beverages of choice in hand.

And Kaeya, for all his pomp, all his slutitude, could never figure out what to say.

At least until now.

“Hey.” Kaeya called.

“Yeah?” you responded.

Kaeya placed his head on your shoulder before saying.

“I love you.”

Silence pierced the room and Kaeya briefly wondered if he had just ruined it all, wouldn’t be the first time after all.

Then, you placed your head on Kaeya’s and said,

“I love you Kaeya, even if your brain is a handful of ice cubes.”

“Heh, I’ll take it.”

“Oooh! Oooh! Big Bro! Look! There! That one!” Teucer happily shouted from atop Childe’s shoulders, pointing at the store decorated with lights and with quite a few toy’s in its window.

“Ha! Ha! You got it Teucer!” Childe exclaimed in response.

Childe loved this time he got to spend with his little brother, no matter how rare it was for him to find any.

Though he does have to admit, he’s tempted to buy a few of these toys for himself.

So many interesting models, so many strange new things like a paddle with a string that connects it and a ball.

What could it be used for?

What is its name?

What genius made it?

“Hello there! How can I help you?” a voice asked.

Childe was brought out of his reverie and looked up from the strange object in his hand.

In an instant, he felt a tiny shift in himself.

It was something strange.

He wasn’t fighting so why was his heart picking up?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Childe walked out of the shop, Teucer on his shoulders with a new plush and the strange toy known as a “Paddle Ball” in his hand.

“Big bro, why were you so weird around that nice toy person?” Teucer asked, curious at how strange his elder sibling was acting.

“I… I am not sure Teucer…” Childe answered half heartedly, mind still on that person.

Why couldn’t Childe keep his mind off of them?

“Hmmm… this warrants further study.” Childe thought to himself darkly as he began to sing along happily to the songs around himself with Teucer.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

It was a good day at the shop for you.

You sold quite a few toy’s and made a lot of children happy.

Including that strange man…

Ajax was his name if memory serves.

To see a grown man’s eyes light up at even the most simplistic of toys and trinkets…

What type of life did this man lead?

Still, you doubted you would ever get an answer to that question…

Either way, it was time to lock up now!

Then another wonderful day of selling toys!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Childe hit the ball with the paddle as he sat on the bench in the park.

That was the easy part for him.

Hitting it again however, not so much.

This is illustrated by the red rubber ball completely missing the paddle and whacking him straight in the face.

“Ow…” Childe muttered as he rubbed his nose.

Why was this thing so hard to use?

It was not anything special, there wasn’t any trick to it.

Childe just needed practice, that's all.

The orange haired man let out a sigh.

Why was that toy shop owner still on his mind?

Something about you had just… ensnared him.

Had completely captured his attention.

Even now, he still felt the warmth of your hand when you handed him the toy he held now.

Why in the world was this happening?

And why-

“Oh! Hi mister Ajax!” A voice told Childe, shocking the man somewhat.

It was you.

Oh no… it was you!

He was starting to feel strange again…

His face felt warmer, his heart was beginning to race, he began to notice the smallest things in the world around him!

What were you doing to him?

And why… Why did he want to kiss you?

In his time under the protection of the Crux fleet, Kazuha had noticed many things about his Captain.

She was always aware of everything on her ship.

She always knew what everyone on her ship felt like.

She had a strange talent for drinking anyone under the table without getting drunk herself.

She always, without fail, kept to a strangely exact schedule concerning where the ship went.

She had a small, tattered, picture that would always make her smile when she looked at it no matter what.

She always had the ship make port at Liyue Harbor at least two times every year.

She always spent those times in Liyue with someone he had never met.

Kazuha had a few hunches on who that person was to his Captain. All of them made him quite happy for his Captain.

Though he did have to wonder, what did his Captain get that person for their birthday and the holidays?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Beidou held a small black box in her hand as she exited the jeweler.

She then immediately turned into one of Liyue’s few empty alley’s.

The Pirate Queen had never been this terrified in her life.

It’s strange.

She had faced down all kinds of things that could’ve killed her a thousand times over by now.

But this thing in her hands?

It scared her a thousand times more than all of those put together.

Why?

She was deeply in love with you, the fact that she was going to ask you to marry her tonight of all nights should be proof of that.

Yet, she was still scared…

Beidou knew what she was scared of, but didn’t dare voice it in her thoughts.

She couldn’t.

If she did… she might not go through with this.

And she had to go through with this.

She wanted to spend the rest of her life with you after all.

And Beidou always got what she desired.

It was in her job description as a pirate.

So she was going to do this.

She was going to do this.

She was going to do this!

SHE WAS GOING TO DO THIS!!!

“I. WILL. DO. THIS.” Beidou exclaimed loudly to herself, hyping herself up for what she was about to do.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

That night, the crew of the Crux was given a very special surprise when their captain returned for the holiday party.

Their captain, a ring on her finger and holding her spouse close.

That night, a great many members of the crew lost a great amount of Mora.

Mora, which all ended up in Kazuha’s hands.

The woman in blue rushed around like the entire world was burning down around her.

This would not be a… overly dramatic statement of Furina’s current predicament.

Furina had tried to cook you something special for the holidays.

It, unsurprisingly, did not go well.

The drapes were charred and soaked, several dozen plates were smashed on the floor, the food she had tried to create seemed to have gained sentience and was now eating the pot it was born in.

In summary, Furina failed miserably at everything she had tried to do in cooking you some food outside of Macaroni And Cheese.

She wished she could say she was surprised at this.

She wasn’t though.

Oh by Celestia how was she going to fix this by the time you got back?

“Unless…” your all too loveable scamp of a wife muttered.

A devious plan hatched in Furina’s mind.

“Heh, heh, heh, I think it is time to show you off!” your wife said with a sinister chuckle.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

You were definitely not expecting this to be how everyone found out who your wife was.

Yes, your wife just so happened to be Furina.

It's nothing worth all the uproar being caused by everyone you know.

She was just like everyone else.

Well, not really.

She is hopeless as a cook unless it has to do with Macaroni And Cheese.

You got the feeling that this sudden desire to show you off on the holidays had something to do with that.

Still, you weren’t going to waste any time you could spend with Furina.

Not to mention, you had a gift to give her.

And now that she was showing you off?

It was the perfect time to give her something more permanent than the two strange rings of Macaroni And Cheese she initially proposed to you with in the heat of the moment while making said dish.

Still, the true rings would be put on display.

These were just to ensure that nothing broke those precious things.

You don’t think Furina would be able to forgive herself if hers broke.

She was like that with you.

And you loved her for it.

Also, why did Furina smell like burned food?

The pit in your stomach continued to grow.

You got the feeling she had ulterior motives for having you out like this.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

#favoniuslibrary #nouveau livre #furina x reader #beidou x y/n #beidou x reader #childe #tartaglia #childe tartaglia ajax #ajax #kaeya x reader #childe x reader

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