#husbands share everything including enemies

[is-there-an-echo-in-here]

X

#Cody shares in their beef for sure #husbands share everything including enemies #the clone wars #tcw #star wars #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #assaj ventress #codywan #incorrect quotes #source: brooklyn nine nine #commander cody is captain holt #x marks the spot for the ongoing saga

[stormhearty]

✨ pairings: eris x reader

🔮 preview: (Y/N) Vanserra was cunning, ambitious, and confident, all wrapped in a beauty that could rival Lady Autumn’s. For forty-nine years, she had been hidden away, in Autumn Court, much like a diamond, waiting for the day she could come out and shine. And so, when the threat of a Death-God loomed over Prythian and Beron slowly became a concern, (Y/N) uses her beauty and intelligence for a ploy bigger than herself — one that included sitting her husband down on the Autumn throne, Eris Vanserra.

📣 trigger warnings: Inner Circle bashing (I love the IC guys, but we’re in Autumn Court territory now)

🔎 rating: PG-13 | 🔏 word count: 5.6k+

💜 masterlist | series masterlist + notes: I thank my lovely nonnie from here for suggesting a Roxana-inspired reader from the manwha, How to Protect the Heroine’s Older Brother! I loved Roxana as a character and I found it very difficult (as many of you know, whom I’ve talked to about this story) to write a character who is cunning and intelligent as my character reference. This series was a beast to write (and I am still writing the other parts of it, so please do be patient) — I wanted it to stay canon as much as possible, but also give a story that would reveal the mysterious nature of Autumn Court. Please do give feedback about the first part of this series! I would love to hear your opinions and thoughts for the next part!

And I thank both @prythianpages & @thesunloveschips for their amazing help with this first part (I apologize to them profusely at times for bothering them)

“Be my eyes, be my ears. Be the wallflower that lurks in the breeze. Be the viper that stings all my enemies. We shall become one, to conquer our shared destiny.”

The burn of the bargain tattoo seared onto your skin, a ring of fire that surrounded your left ring finger. It took you a moment to look at it, admiring the dark ink that stained your skin before much larger hands enveloped yours. Looking up, you stared at familiar amber hues as he slipped the golden band on that finger, hiding the tattoo. Lifting your hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss on your knuckles his smirk widening slightly.

“You will be my secret, (Y/N)… My weapon within the walls of Autumn Court…”

“Do you know who she is, Az?” his High Lord’s voice echoed in his head as hazel eyes focused on the female that seemed to have garnered many lingering gazes.

“I unfortunately do not, Rhys… My shadows do not whisper anything about her. I—-” there was hesitancy in his words, “I didn’t even know she existed.”

The Spymaster was stumped, to say the least.

In his centuries of being Night Court’s Spymaster, wielding shadows to his very will, Azriel had every confidence that he knew everything that happened in Prythian. Nothing was able to pass him nor his shadows — he knew all the intel, the gossip. He knew everything that might be deemed a threat to his court and used that knowledge to his advantage.

But it seemed like something slipped, because there was something… more like someone, that passed his shadows; and that was you who was on the arm of the Autumn Court Heir.

Azriel felt like he should have known you, should have heard the whisper of your existence at least. You were accompanying the Autumn Heir to Winter Solstice, for Mother’s sake! How could someone as vital as you slip passed his shadows.

He waited, waited for those slivers of darkness to whisper something… anything about you. Even just your name, the Spymaster would have been pleased to know.

But nothing.

His shadows lazily moved underneath him, not a care in the world about the female that seemed to have warped his mind in chaos.

You had become an enigma to the Spymaster.

And it was something he would go to the ends of the world to unravel.

He continued silently observing you from his position next to his High Lord on the dias, watching as you pressed yourself close to the Heir side, your hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, leading you through the throughs of people that packed themselves into the grand ballroom. He watched as your rouge dress, a stark contrast to the endless sea of black and blue, swayed around you — like a fire that danced in the darkness of the night. Even Eris stood out in his regality in a similar shade of rouge, Autumn Court colors seeping out from every inch of him.

The two of you maneuvered through the halls like flames blazing through the darkness — and Azriel was worried that you would burn his home down.

And when he watched you lean up to the Heir, whispering something into his ear before a boisterous laugh escaped the Autumn Heir, he sent his shadows across the floor, motioning them to listen in — and all the Spymaster hoped was to get a tidbit of anything relating to you; even just the sound of your voice would have been better than nothing.

However, hazel hues watched as his shadows retreated quickly as they had flocked. And it was only then did Azriel had seen it.

A barrier.

One that was so powerful and so thick that his shadows couldn’t even penetrate. He watched as the tendrils of darkness slithered away, retreating back to their master, hearing their cries of pain as they had attempted to break through the barrier.

That was the reason no one knew of your existence — why Azriel never heard of you, why his shadows never picked up your name.

You were a secret — Autumn Court’s well-kept secret.

The shimmer of the barrier caught the corner of your eye, watching it reflect different colors under the dim lighting. You raised a brow, eyes darting around before noticing the lonesome shadow retreating back to its master. You watched as that lonesome shadow slither through the crowd, slithering back to the Spymaster’s side.

“Did that bastard just —-”

You fought back a chuckle, gently squeezing Eris’ forearm — a silent confirmation about the attempted attack from the Night Court Spymaster. You felt him stiffen underneath your touch and you didn’t need to look to know that the Heir was pissed.

Beneath his mask of well-practiced composure, you felt his body thrum with rage and fire — it swirled and bubbled underneath his skin, radiating up to your palm that rested in the crook of his elbow.

Eris had always been quite overprotective over you, thus the millennial old barrier that had kept your existence a secret from all of Prythian — including from the nosy Spymaster of Night Court.

You were not surprised by the Shadowsinger’s actions — curiosity killed the cat, as many would say. And who wouldn’t be curious about you, the female that hung on the arm of the Autumn Court Heir? You had expected something similar to happen, but it seemed that the Spymaster sending his shadows to investigate you did not sit well with Eris.

No one dared to attack you while in his presence.

“Eris…”

The whisper of his name from your lips paused the rage that bubbled from the Heir — amber hues glancing your way. A delicate smile tugged onto your features, another melodic hum escaping your lips as you reached up and caressed his forearm — a gesture that showed you were perfectly unharmed — the barrier had done its job, keeping you safe. It was a gesture that always seemed to calm Eris down — especially when it came to your safety, a silent confirmation you were safe. You felt that bubble of rage and fire simmer, the Heir calming underneath your touch, and felt his hand slip on top of your own, his thumb gently caressing the gold band on your ring finger— a tall tell sign that he was holding himself back from confronting the Spymaster.

“Ah, Eris!”

Annoyance rolled off from the calm of Eris’ demeanor and you fought all urge to tease the male as you watched from the corner of your eye Keir making his way to the two of you, behind him his daughters in tow.

With a well-practiced smile, Eris gave a bow of his head towards the Steward, you mimicking his actions as surprise tugged on the Steward’s features, his steps paused to a halt at the sight of you at Eris’ side.

“Ah, Keir, pleasure to see you again. I thank you for inviting me to such festivities…” Eris greeted the male with a light smirk tugged onto his features — the normal look of arrogance from the Autumn Heir.

Keir had stiffened at the sound of his name, without any lordship from the Heir, as he bit back a reply with a strained smile, “Of course, Lord Eris. We are indeed partners… I had wanted to introduce you to my daughters—-” the male gestured to his side as his daughters gave a bow, their cheeks pink with a light rose color, evident even in the dim lighting.

You bit back a laugh, glancing up at Eris to watch that smile twitch at the corner of his lips — the annoyance very evident despite his mask of pleasantry.

“Unfortunately…” The Autumn Heir had cut off the Steward, giving the ladies a bow of his head. Eris, no matter what was taught to be a gentleman, especially to females. His mother taught him that. “I do not need a partner tonight for the dance… As you can see, I do have a lovely lady on my arm, and it would be such a shame to ignore her presence… don’t you think, Keir?”

A pleased smile tugged at the edge of your lips at the quip — not only did the Steward ignore greeting you, he had ignored the fact that you… without needing to be announced, would be the one accompanying the Heir for the evening’s festivities. And yet, there he was attempting to set up partnership with one of his daughters.

Keir’s eyes shifted from the Heir to you, his hues shaking as he looked at you.

“My apologizes… my lady, I was not informed that the Autumn Heir would be bringing a partner with him tonight—-”

“—-She has been with me the whole night, Keir… and she has not stepped away from my side. I would think, with your… keen eyesight, it would make it clear that I did not need a partner tonight.”

“—- Ah, yes… I apologize…” the stutter was evident in his tone as he quietly shooed away his daughters, watching longing gazes at the Eris before moving through the crowd. Keir straightened up and gave you a formal smile, before clearing his throat, “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady —- before the festivities start…” What a quick change of subject, “My High Lord would like to speak to you…. if you do not mind following me…”

And with that the Steward turned around, his cape bellowing behind him as he maneuvered his way through the crowd… towards the dias where the Inner Circle had perched themselves for the night.

You watched as Eris rolled his eyes, an annoyed sigh escaping his lips, while you let out an airy laugh, bracing yourself on his arm as you leaned up, your breath against his chin, “Tired of being the most eligible bachelor, Autumn Heir?” you teased him.

It had always amused you on how many marriage proposals Eris had throughout the time you were together, and how many he had thrown those letters into the hearth of your shared bedroom at Autumn Court. You had always teased him about it, much to his own dismay after being with you for several millennials — you always found something to tease him about.

Eris raised a brow, turning his head so that your breaths intermingled, “I had not been a bachelor for centuries, my butterfly… It pains me to pretend that I am every time I step outside Autumn Court.”

You gazed up at him, staring in those amber hues through your lush lashes, “Well… tonight we’ll make that clear, once and for all, won’t we?”

A wide smirk tugged onto his lips, as he let out a satisfied sound before straightening up and guiding you through the crowd, steps behind the Steward to the dias. The two of you were a perfect picture of Lord and Lady, graceful and regal in every way.

Pull… pull… pull…

Eyes snapped towards the dias, your body going ridged for a few moments as you felt the familiar magnetic tug — the call of the blade. Eris paused in mid-step, feeling you go still, his head snapping towards you as eyes betrayed his indifferent expression — worry pooling at its depths. No words needed to be communicated between the two of you, you had known each other for centuries… you were honed into each other’s emotions, habits, gestures… you two could read each other so easily, despite the mask you have learned to put on for centuries.

Your eyes shifted from each member of the Inner Circle, trying to find where the magic pull was coming from, landing on the velvet box that was in the lithe hands of a familiar fae — the eldest Made Archeron sister, Nesta. You felt your magic flicker underneath your skin, answering the pull from that velvet box. You knew that the blade was in that box — the whole reason why you had decided to accompany Eris to the Winter Solstice, stepping out of Autumn Court into the wider world of Prythian, risking your identity, and exposing your person to the Night Court. That box, that blade was your sole reason.

Regaining your composure, you pressed yourself against Eris’ arm, placing your hand on top of his own as you silently motioned him to continue moving forward. The Autumn Heir hesitated, but when he glanced into your eyes and saw the resolution in them, he couldn’t argue. He gently squeezed your hand and started to move forward again before leaning down, pressing a kiss on the side of your head to whisper, “Did you find it? The blade?”

You glanced up at him and just gave him a light smirk, gently squeezing his hand. Another laugh escaped him, drawing attention towards the two before he pressed another kiss on your cheek, “You are magnificent, my butterfly…”

The Autumn wind blew a chilled breeze through the large windows of the Forest House. The sky was still in orange, red, and yellow hues as the moon started to peak over the horizon — the seasonal courts never saw true nightfall, the skies still glittering with their court colors. It had just grown dark enough for sleep to fall on its inhabitants.

Slipping onto the large balcony of your shared bedroom, you pressed your hands against the cool marble railing as you watched a monarch butterfly flutter down from the skies. Magic wrapped its fragile wings as you allowed it to gently perch on your left eye, a sigh escaping your lips as you closed your eyes — allowing its magic to seep into you. Visions passed behind your eyes, your all-seeing gaze shifting from Autumn Court, zipping through the seasonal courts and into the depths of one particular solar court — Night Court.

A rusty hammer struck metal, sparks of light flying into the air as the loud ring echoed in your ears. You watched delicate, yet calloused fingers grip the hilt of a forged blade — a power from those very hands seeping into the metal, one that mimicked the ancient Cauldron, which was lost. The blade breathed fire, one so similar to your own that you felt it pulse, no… push against steel — calling out to you, as if it knew you were waiting, watching from afar.

Shifting your gaze from the mysterious Made blade, your eyes wandered to those fingers, traveling up their arm to their features — the eldest Made Archeron sister. You had heard of the eldest sister of the High Lady of Night, once a human, doused in Cauldron power that made her into fae. Her powers were unknown to all, and yet — here she was, creating a weapon from her unknown powers.

“It looks like she isn’t quite as lovely as the winds have whispered…” you murmured, mirth in your tone as you continued to watch the vision unfold before your eyes.

“Who isn’t as lovely?”

Arms wrapped around your middle, large sturdy hands pressing you against a much sturdier front. Another sigh escaped your lips, eyes fluttering open, breaking the connection of magic as you watched the butterfly disappear in a waft of red and orange mist. Your hand raised, swirling the colors in the air before it dissipated. Twisting your neck, you glanced up at the Autumn Heir, his features illuminated by the colorful autumn sky.

You had always thought he looked ethereal.

His complexion glowed something dark that always stirred something inside of you. How his auburn hair beautifully framed his chiseled features and how his amber hues glowed — his innate fire burning through those irises.

Those amber eyes caught your own, his brow raising as his question was left in the air. A chuckle was pulled out of you at his look, “The eldest Made Archeron…”

Eris’ brows scrunched in confusion, as your comment did little to answer his question. He knew that there was much more hidden behind your simple words about the Made fae, much more than you were willing to tell him without him prodding you more. You lifted a hand to gently smooth Eris’ brows, a feeble attempt at a distraction — for both you and him.

“What did your butterflies show you, (Y/N)?”

Eris was able to read you so easily, no matter how many walls you had put up, the Autumn Heir was able to see right through them. He had learned how to read you for centuries, ever since the two of you were children — ever since that fateful day.

You felt him grasp your hand, tugging it away from his face, giving your palm a caress, causing a sigh to escape your lips.

“She forged a blade that breathed fire, one similar to our own… I do not know the purpose of said blade, but I am quite sure it has to do with that bloody bargain you made with that High Lord…”

It was no secret to Eris that you had despised that bargain between the High Lord of Night — a bargain to help him claim the Autumn throne from his father. You understood that it was under stressful circumstances — the looming doom of war with Hybern, needing allies during the war. However, you had known that Eris didn’t need that bargain, not with anyone within the Forest House walls, especially not with pesky Night Court bats — not when he had you to help with the coup within Autumn wards.

You needed no help from overgrown bats with what you had promised Eris all those millennials ago.

“(Y/N)…” he called your name, pulling you from your thoughts. Eris held your waist and turned you in his arms, pushing you against that marble railing, forcing you to look up at him.

Raising a brow, you tilted your head up at him.

“If they made a blade for us… then we’ll use it — take advantage of it,” he asserted, “Let’s play into their little game for now. Make them think they’re on higher ground, that they have control — but when in reality, we’ve always known. And you never know…” A smirk tugged on his lips as he leaned down, his breath brushing against the apples of your cheeks, “That blade might be useful for our plan…”

A light, airy chuckle escaped your lips, “You’re asking me, Eris… out of all things… to act dumb in front of those bats?” amusement laced in your tone.

He chuckled as well, pressing his lips against your cheek, “I’m asking you, my butterfly… is to act dumb with me. We do better everything together, right?”

You hummed, eyes fluttering close, your lashes brushing against his cheeks. Your arms slid up his more muscular ones, hidden beneath his sleeping tunic, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him, “Then that means, Autumn Heir… you will have to bring me to that Winter Solstice ball if you want me to act with you.”

Eris froze underneath your touch at the mention of Winter Solstice. He had mentioned it a few times to you in the past several weeks — especially when Keir kept sending secret correspondence, begging him to join the festivities. The correspondences had annoyed Eris completely, any chance the Heir had was to verbalize his annoyance to you about it — and you had been very amused to hear it each time. You were to let him go on his own to the Court of Nightmares — it was something you didn’t need to be a part of. You could remain in Autumn, continue to secretly monitor his father and brothers, gain followers, and be the wallflower that you have always acted as.

But, with this newfound information and the idea of the Night Court using the bargain against Eris, you knew you couldn’t just be passive with the invitation.

Opening your eyes, you looked up at Eris who had a conflicting look — you knew why he had been so hesitant.

You had never stepped outside of Autumn Court — no one knew of your existence outside of the Court. Despite being in Autumn Court for millennials, Prythian didn't know, the other Courts didn’t know of you. And yet, you were willing to sacrifice your identity, your role in his bigger plan to gain something as simple as a blade that a Cauldron Made Fae made.

Eris didn’t like the idea, it didn’t sit well in his thoughts.

Reaching up, you pressed your thumb between his brows, smoothing the skin there, “You will get wrinkles at this point, Eris…” you mumbled, eyes focusing on the skin there before catching his gaze, “I have done everything I can here, Eris…” your words were cryptic, you knew Eris would understand — you couldn’t risk it, not when the walls, trees, the winds in Autumn would listen and give away your plan.

“… I have asked you to use me, Eris. All those millennials ago, on that day… so use me. Make me the weapon I made myself into. I can't help you now if I'm in Autumn —-”

Sure, you had been the one to limit your influence solely on Autumn Court, but if Prythian called, then you are willing to step into the larger world.

Your eyes showed your determination, your willingness to devote your entirety to him as you've done for years.

A reluctant sigh escaped his lips as he forcibly pressed his lips on your forehead, “Alright. I will bring you… but you must remain by my side the whole night. No one will rip you away from me..”

An amused chuckle escaped your chest, leaning up to press your lips against his pulse, “So overprotective, Autumn Heir. It sounds like you're too fond of me…”

You felt Eris shake his head at your teasing, tugging you closer before maneuvering you back into your shared room for the night.

The bellow of Keir’s introduction pulled you out of your thoughts, watching the older male give a sweeping bow — overdramatic and with flair — his words of congratulations echoing throughout the large ballroom, the citizens echoing the same sentiments. As the elder male stepped aside, you stepped up along with the Autumn Heir, giving an elegant curtsy, while Eris gave a regal bow at his waist.

“And allow me to extend our congratulations, High Lady of Night, on behalf of my father and the entirety of Autumn Court…” Eris bellowed, his voice of regality, “A Fae child being conceived, what a miraculous announcement to give during Winter Solstice…”

You drowned out the conversation between Eris and the High Lord, barely focusing on the pageantry between them. It was rare for you to be so out of focus on the situation. Normally, you were in tune with your surroundings, focused on the now; however, all you and your magic could focus on was the call of the blade that thrummed inside that velvet box. You watched as lithe fingers grip the box tighter, and your eyes shifted to the eldest Archeron sister

“—- Before you go, Eris…” your delicate ears perked up, eyes shifting back to the High Lord who waved his hand allowing a dark wind to carry that velvet box through the air, handing it into Eris’ awaiting hand, “I offer you a gift, a solstice gift. A friendly token… between a High Lord to a future High Lord…”

Eris’ gripped the box tight in his large hand as you felt the muscles underneath regal clothes grow taunt.

A quip, from the High Lord. A disguised reminder of the bargain between the two of them.

Gently squeezing Eris’ forearm, you urged him to open the box, to ignore the jab from the older male. You felt those muscles relax underneath your squeeze, his mask of indifference returning onto his features as he opened the velvet box.

Inside that box, laid on plush pillows, was an ornate dagger — it was roughly the size of the Heir’s forearm, its handle weaved from iron as if it was cloth, an intricate design of wood and fire etched onto the metal.

One that was similar to the vision that you had seen weeks ago.

Eris picked up the blade by its serpentine handle, raising it, and watched the silver and jewels shine in the dim lighting. It was a beautiful blade — much more than you had seen in that vision. From the corner of your eye, the two of you locked gazes a light smirk tugging on his lips before the air around him flickers.

Eris’ magic throbbed in the air, as you watched flames appear around the blade — surprised screams echoed around you, as all eyes were on the pair of you — the center of attention. Eyes glanced at the Inner Circle, watching the guard dogs step in front of their masters to protect them, your keen gaze watching how the Captain pulled the eldest sister in his arms. A curious brow raised before you gazed back at Eris as he poured his power into that blade, disappearing into the silver in a flash of bright light.

A groan escaped the Autumn Heir, his head tilting back, a long breath escaping grinning lips. It took a moment’s breath before he regained his composure, rolling his shoulders back before his gaze returned to the blade, turning the blade in his hand as the metal changed, the color from a simple silver to a dark black — an obsidian color that swallowed up the light. A mixture of auburn and saffron tinted the onyx-colored blade, changing the way the light hit it — a blade mimicked a dark fire, swirling underneath the dim light.

Eris flipped the blade, holding it by the blade as he turned his body, facing you and staring at you with those brightly colored hues — flame and light within those irises — handling the blade to you, a nudge of his chin, gesturing you to take the blade.

A light chuckle escaped your lips, fighting the urge for your knees to buckle at the look on the Heir’s features — it was an alluring look on him, the power that raged in his eyes, in his veins — as your gaze shifted down the column of his throat and followed the patterns of his auburn suit to the blade in his hand. With lithe fingers, you grasped the hilt and you felt a shiver run up your spine — the mix of Eris’ power along with the power that already surged through the metal, Nesta’s power — no… the Cauldron’s power — was intoxicating. The call and pull of the magic that pulsed in the blade was strong and you felt your own magic answer the call, causing you to tilt your head slightly as you stared down at the blade, your magic pulsing underneath your skin.

What a dangerous weapon… You thought as you shifted slightly out of Eris’ hold to move the slit on your skirt, where an empty sheath was strapped onto your leg, sliding the blade into its new home — a perfect fit.

“I had been meaning to ask…” The High Lord’s voice reached your delicate ears as you glanced up, fingers trailing up your thigh before pressing yourself close to the Autumn Heir again.

“Who are you?”

Eris gently squeezed your waist, as you stepped out of his hold and you gave a sweeping curtsy, one as dramatic as Kier’s earlier.

“Late introductions, I apologize, High Lord of Night…” your tone had mirth and sarcasm tied underneath a layer of elegance and regality, “My name is (Y/N)… (Y/N) Vanserra.”

You glanced up at the High Lord through your lashes, watching his façade of arrogance and boredom shift into surprise — his face showing his thoughts:

Vanserra? Beron does not have any daughters.

Nor did he take up a second wife.

Vanserra? On the arm of the Autumn Heir…

Bright violet hues glanced between you and the Autumn Heir that stood behind you, before locking onto your gaze — your colored hues staring into violet hues. In defiance, you tilted your head up, as you straightened from your curtsy.

And that’s when you felt it — those tendrils of his powers creep near your mind, you couldn’t help but frown, your body stiffening, your hand gripping your gown tighter.

In your entire lifespan, you have never encountered a Daemati — especially one as strong as the High Lord; you had thought that the barrier would protect you from such intrusion of your mind, but it seemed, even that was futile against the power of a High Lord Daemanti.

Not breaking your eye connection with the High Lord, your eyes glowed an eerie ruby hue as you focused on that tether, that connection that he forged between your minds, to those coils of darkness that invaded your mind.

How. Dare. He.

And with a flick of your wrist, your mind grew walls of flame, surrounded by fire hounds who growled and attacked those shadows — successfully pushing him out of your mind. You heard a faint yell from the High Lord, and you saw his hands sear with flames, his hands combusting as he frantically tried to pat it down on his leathers. However, the feeling of lightheadedness started to cloud your mind, and you teetered on your heels before you felt Eris’ arms wrap around your waist, pressing your back against his chest. Eyes pinched close, panting, fighting off the heaviness you felt throughout your body.

It had been simple enough, you had thought, to push the High Lord’s power from your mind — but it seemed you had used too much power, in such a quick second that your delicate stature was giving up. Your mind grew hazy, spots of darkness appeared in your vision and you fought every urge to just pass out right there that you barely noticed the commotion that surrounded you.

Feeling Eris’ grip on you tighten as you heard him growl, “Did you just try to get into my wife’s head, Rhysand?! How fucking dare you!”

That had fully ticked off the Autumn Heir. Not only did the Spymaster attempt to attack you from afar, but now the High Lord tried to invade your mind. Two attempts at your life were too much for one night for Eris — and he threw his well-practiced self-control out the window.

Shrieks from the onlookers reached your ears as you peeked an eye open, noticing a bright light that illuminated the dark room. Heat radiated onto your skin, feeling Eris bring you closer to him, protecting you from the ring of fire that surrounded the both of you, separating the two of you from the Inner Circle. Blinking the haziness from your mind, you watched through the flames as the General and Shadowsinger stood in front of the High Lord and Lady, weapons drawn against the two of you.

“Eris…” you breathed out, grasping his Autumn colored suit, “Calm down…”

His head whipped towards you, that fiery gaze staring down at you, “But he tried to invade your mind, (Y/N)…”

A confirmed hum escaped your throat, straightening yourself in his hold, “I know… But I got him out. That’s all that mattered… And don’t blame the barrier,” you panted, blinking away the spots at the corner of your eyes, “His power is immune to it I guess…”

You stared up at him, your scarlet hues dimming back to your normal colored ones. Amber hues stared into them, assessing your condition, hesitation marred his features.

“Bring down the flames, Eris….” you softly commanded him.

His eyes flickered between you and the Inner Circle before he followed that command, the ring of fire flickering until it had gone out. You did not bother to appear composed — you could appear fragile — play into the heartstrings of the citizens of Hewn City.

The High Lord of Night Court attempted to invade the mind of Autumn Court Heir’s wife.

Word would spread throughout all of Prythian — sympathy and pity would be whispered your way while scrutinizing words would be thrown towards the High Lord.

Even if you despise showing such vulnerability to anyone let alone the Inner Circle, you can use it to your advantage.

You pressed yourself closer to Eris, playing the soft wife that just got attacked by a High Lord. Eris’ arms wrapped around you, as he bared his teeth against the Inner Circle.

“You attempt to attack my wife in your Court, Rhysand, and yet you have your dogs try to protect you? We have not laid a finger against you nor your Court, and you have weapons drawn against us,” anger vibrated in Eris’ tone. He knew how to play your games, he knew exactly how to play them with you — and yet the anger, the fury that lurked in his features were genuine, “You have no damn right to try to lurk in our heads, even if you are a High Lord.”

The General and the Spymaster shifted in their stance, their eyes foggy before stepping aside to reveal Rhysand, cradling his now scarred hands — that was what he got for trying to attack you in front of his people.

“…I…”

“I do not accept your apology if you ever were to have one, High Lord…” surprise tugging onto his features at your declaration, “Myself and my husband arrived on Night Court soil as guests, and yet we are treated as enemies. I have done nothing to you to cause you to try to invade my mind.”

Whispers surrounded you, words of ill-intent for their High Lord reaching your sensitive ears.

She’s right. They have done nothing to them, and yet he tried to hurt her.

The Autumn Heir had every right to act the way he did. It was to protect his wife from Rhysand.

I never did like him… He has trapped us here in the Mountain while he and his people live in Valeris.

He’s nothing but a hypocrite. He says that he welcomes all, but he hurts others as he sees fit.

You fought back a smirk, staring at the High Lord as his features flickered — his mind racing on trying how to turn the situation back to his favor. But you knew, both of you knew, it was too late for him to do anything.

Things have turned in your favor, much like you had hoped.

“I have no need to stay for the festivities any longer, Rhysand. You have attacked my wife twice in one night, your Shadowsinger earlier tonight and now you. I do not feel safe within the walls of your Court and I do not feel safe for my wife’s safety either…”

With a growl escaping his throat, he gently maneuvered you into his arms, lifting you bridal style, turning on his heels as he stepped out of the Court of Nightmares, the crowd parting to make way for him as flames surrounded the both of you. You felt him pause mid-step, and you glanced up at him with a raise of your brow. Eris looked down at you, his face contemplating for a moment before he looked over his shoulder, back at Rhysand.

“—-And the bargain between us is over High Lord… Especially after tonight. No one dares to hurt my wife in my presence.”

The Autumn Heir winnowed the both of you out of Night Court in a flash of fire and light.

And back into the depths of Autumn Court.

👑 General Tag List: @prythianpages @strangelygreat

🕯️Series Tag List: @imma-too-many-fandoms @assriels @kiarathace

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #autumn court #( .series : bleeding crowns )

[frogchiro]

😭😭god I must share this thought with you about Andrei I can't- though not the tallest, he's definitely built more like a wall than the others, a big and steady and loyal man (which we all know from his loyalty towards makarov), he'd be the most loyal of them all. And definitely listens to everything his wife says like a good husband. Sometimes he gotta bring his wife along with him into the base and stay with him cause the missions ain't easy. He'll be needing some kinds of massage and he'll be asking for it everyday just to feel how close he and his wife could be and how warm could his wife's palm feel like and how if he'd be more aggresive than normal he could just force his wife into the corner and holding them and pressing them on the wall and kiss and hold them like ajgakdklahjwkrk pls andrei pls andrei i couldn't do this anymore 😭😭😭

I've extensively discussed this with my friend @justadeadreaperthat Andrei's motto for live is "Happy wife happy life" and he'd do about anything for his sweet girl <3 Also god bless you nonnie bc this is my first real Andrei ask and I'm so excited😭😭

He loves deeply and fiercely loyal, there's nothing he'd stop at to keep you safe and happy, that includes making you move to the base to keep you safe and under supervision because his Kommandir's (and by extension his) enemies never sleep and he's afraid something will happen to you, so you're to stay here where he can keep an eye on you :((

Andrei is a very busy man, especially now that he's acting as Makarov's right hand man but he always comes back to you at the end of the day and positively melts whenever you greet him with your warm smile and a homecooked meal waiting for him; he's a big man, he need his food after all! At least that's what you tell him when you're caressing his tummy and chest in bed <3

And yes you're so right, he'd be so so happy when you offer him a massage :(( Tensions are high nowadays, there's a lot of work to do but you're there like the sweetest angel, wanting to help your husband and ease at least some of his burdens; something he'll never be able to repay you back in his eyes.

The burly man will let out all the noises, all the guttural groans and moans when your soft hands caress his shoulders and ease the tension there, he will sing you praises as you let out a whispered 'Dyushka' when he stands up from the comfy armchair and gets close to you, covering your smaller body with his burly one and cradles your face in his rough palms as he kisses you passionately, primaly like a beast.

Andrei is a extremely loyal and devoted man and he shows the depth of his love for you almost every night whenever he worships your body like you're his goddess and his offering to you is his heart, his warmth, his love and his seed <33

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #andrei nolan x reader #andrei nolan #andrei nolan cod #cod andrei nolan #andrei nolan call of duty

[inzenial]

marriage - regulus black

TW: I do not condone or promote forced marriage or any form of abuse or mistreatment in relationships.

This text may contain triggering content for some readers, including references to emotional abuse and coercion.

         ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

I woke up and glanced at Regulus sleeping next to me. I had always known that I would marry a pureblood wizard. My mother had drilled it into me from a young age that marrying well was the most important thing I could do. So when I was told that I would be marrying Regulus Black, I was not surprised. In fact, I was almost relieved that I would not have to go through the process of finding a suitable husband myself.

However, I was not blind to the fact that Regulus did not want to marry me. I could see the disdain in his eyes every time we were forced to be in each other's company. It hurt me that he could not even try to get to know me, but I understood that he had been forced into this marriage just as I had.

But it seemed that nothing I did could change his opinion of me. I tried to be kind to him, but he rebuffed me at every turn. It was clear that he did not want to be married to me, and I could not help but feel hurt by his rejection.

Despite my disappointment, I knew that I had to make the best of the situation. I was determined to be a good wife to Regulus, even if he did not want me. I hoped that one day he would see that I was not the enemy and that we could find some common ground. But for now, I would have to be content with being the wife of a man who hated me.

Regulus was on the other side of the bed just staring at the ceiling as if he hadn't a care in the world. He was silent for a moment before he spoke. "You know this marriage was completely unnecessary, right?"

"But what was the point in them arranging this? You know I hate you, right?" He kept staring at the ceiling.

"Yes, I do. For what reason, the world may never know," you respond, mumbling the last part as you go up to go to the shared bathroom in your bedroom.

"Probably to spite me." He said before slowly getting up and heading into the bathroom as well. He leaned against the wall as he looked at you in the mirror. He stared right through your eyes but it was clear by his expression that there was nothing but hatred towards you.

"What do you want?"

"For you to go away." His voice was a soft but cold as his eyes narrowed at you. You'd never seen him like this before.

"Well, I'm not going away, not for a long time, so maybe stop being so tiresome and just get used to this marriage because, whether you like it or not, you're married to me," you say, on the verge of yelling as you had about enough of him.

Regulus seemed to grow even taller as he stared down at you. 

"I'm the Head of House Black, my family's reputation is everything." Regulus paused before he took another step closer.

"You're telling me to get used to this?"

"Exactly. Good job of getting the point into your thick skull." You responded, still mad at him for complaining and blaming everything on you.

Regulus stared at you before rolling his eyes. "You know why we're married?" He asked.

"To ensure that I continue the Black family line." He was still staring at you. Your breath hitched just slightly as a cold wave washed over you. 

"So?"

"Do you know how children are made?" Regulus' tone changed as he looked down at you. He said as he took a step closer.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm only doing my duty." Regulus answered as he took another step towards you.

"No"

Regulus was silent for a moment. He seemed confused at your answer. "No?" He looked deep into your eyes.

"You understand this is our duty, right?" 

"Yes, I realise that, but I'm not doing it just to please our parents or for me to get pregnant. I'm also not going to do it with someone who hates me." You say this as you place both hands on his chest and push him back slightly.

Regulus took a step back, then let out a sigh. He ran his hand through his hair before looking back at you. He said nothing for a moment, but his eyes seemed to burn you.

"Our family needs a child, do you know what happens if they don't get one?" 

"We'll just tell them that we're trying and that it's taking longer than expected, but until you get over your hatred for me, I'm not doing anything with you." You say this as you move downstairs to make a cup of tea.

"And how do you think they'll respond to that when the time passes and you're still not pregnant." Regulus followed you into the kitchen. It was clear he was angry with you now which almost caught you by surprise.

"Well then, get over your hatred faster," you say with your back to him as you watch the kettle.

Regulus leaned against the wall once again and took a breath before talking. "Have you ever thought of why I hate you?" His tone shifted again.

"Yes, I have, and I cannot come up with a single reason why you do."  You turn to face him.

Regulus seemed to struggle to find the words to say. "I hate you because.. you remind me of my parents." Regulus said after a moment as he looked away from you.

His tone seemed softer now; he seemed sad—not angry, not cold, just sad. When he looked back at you, he almost looked ashamed.

"Our parents forced me into this marriage I did not want, just like how they forced me into everything else." Regulus was silent for a moment.

"Regulus,  I am not your parents; in fact, I'd like to think I'm the complete opposite, and I know you don't like that we're married, but we have to make it work." You say, softly.

He just stood there for a moment before he took a step forward and wrapped you in a hug.

"I'm sorry." He said as he tightened his grip on you. Regulus seemed more like a scared little boy than the man you had previously known.

You sighed and pulled away from him as you heard the screeching noise from the kettle.

"Let me make us some tea." Regulus said as he slowly went to the cupboard and took out two matching tea cups.

"You just sit down." He kept his back facing you while he prepared the tea.

"Thank you," you replied as you took the steaming mug from him.

Regulus took his own mug and sat down across from you.

He looked down at the table in silence for a moment before looking up at you. He took a sip of his drink and waited for you to do the same.

You start to take a sip from your mug, but it's too hot, and you burn your tongue slightly. 

"Fuck," you hiss.

Regulus smiled when you cursed and he couldn't help but chuckle slightly.

"Always wait for the tea to cool first." He warned you.

"Yeah, a bit too late for that." You smiled.

"You know, this is one of the first times I've seen you smile" Regulus took another sip of his tea before his eyes met yours once again.

He stayed silent for a moment before he said, "Do you think we could ever get along?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Can I ask you something?" Regulus' tone was serious as he looked at you.

"Yes?"

"Why did you accept our parent's proposition to marry me?" Regulus' tone was soft once more.

"Because you seemed nicer than the other options my mother presented me."

Regulus was silent for a moment before he sighed. He placed his tea cup down on the table and looked at you properly for the first time.

"Did you know I was going to be so... cold to you?" Regulus seemed to want to ask more questions. He looked almost nervous now.

"No, I didn't, but I got used to it, I guess."

"Why would you get used to it?" Regulus seemed confused. "I've been awful to you this entire time and you're okay with that?"

"Well, I wasn't okay with it, but nothing I said or did would change your mind, so I grew to sort of ignore the words that came out of your mouth."

"I'm sorry that I acted that way towards you, I'm a complete and utter arse." He spoke quickly. Regulus seemed to know full well that he was in the wrong. He had always blamed everyone but himself.

"No one is deserving of the treatment I've given you." Regulus didn't look away from you as he spoke.

"I'm not sure if I could forgive you right away, but this is good progress."

"I don't expect forgiveness. After how I treated you, you owe me nothing." Regulus took another sip of his tea.

In this moment, he didn't seem like a Head of House, he just seemed like a tired and overworked young man.

"I'm getting a bit tired; I think I might go take a nap."

Regulus looked tired as well. His expression seemed almost sad as he looked at you.

"You probably should." He stood up from his seat and picked up his mug.

"I'll get the dishes and then I think I should sleep as well." Regulus said in a more tired tone than you'd ever heard from him.

"Leave the dishes; we'll do them in the morning. You need to sleep too."

Regulus paused for a moment before he slowly nodded.

"Okay, thank you." He placed his mug into the sink then left the kitchen to head upstairs. You could hear him start walking up the steps.

You followed him upstairs to your bedroom. You went to the bathroom to quickly do your skincare routine and found him lying in bed under the covers.

When you walked into the bedroom you realised something. Regulus was in bed, half-covered by the sheets but he didn't appear to be tired, in fact, he was wide awake.

Regulus turned over to look at you and his eyes seemed to sparkle slightly in the dim glow. He stared at you for a moment before asking, "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?" You replied as you laid down next to him.

"Would you hold my hand?" Regulus asked. You could hear the tiredness in his voice.

He wanted you to hold his hand. It was a simple request, but it made something inside your heart flutter just a little.

"Yes, Regulus"  You responded, taking in his hand as you laid down and tried to sleep.

His hand was warm and you were glad to be able to hold it. It made you feel safe in a way you hadn't felt in a long time.

Regulus was silent for a moment before he spoke once again. "Thank you." He turned over towards you so he was facing you while still laying in bed.

Regulus' eyes seemed to close when you took his hand and began to lay down beside him. In only moments, he was fast asleep. It wasn't long before he fell into a dreamless sleep. His grip was slightly tight on your hand.

You lay in bed awake for a few minutes before you slowly fell asleep as well. Regulus was still holding your hand.

A/N : This isn't what I usually write but I went along with it. If you have any requests, send me a message.

-zoe  ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

#regulus black x reader #regulus black #harry potter #mauraders #couple #fanfiction #imagine #fanfiction author #fanfiction ideas #regulus x reader #regulus x fem!reader

[kimbapisnotsushi]

some of the best/funniest moments in house of many ways, the final book in the howl's moving castle trilogy:

charmain convincing peter that waif is magical just so that he HAS to share food with her

when aunt sempronia and mrs. baker check on charmain after a few days and mrs. baker says that she feared charmain left a window open, charmain goes "no no i closed it" and then IMMEDIATELY goes, in her head, 'fuck. peter is DEFINITELY opening it'

peter nearly coming in on aunt sempronia's and mrs. baker's visit and being HORRIFIED by their "respectability" and charmain shooing him off by pretending he's waif, made even funnier when you remember that at this moment the kitchen is being invaded with angry kobolds and peter had to WAIT with them for charmain to finish

honestly the entirety of the visit had me in hysterics it was amazing

okay this isn't even funny but when you reread and realize aunt sempronia was 100% serious when she said nobody needed to fear for charmain when waif was around --

"i told them that you were in charge and they had to wait until you had finished being polite to those witches." "witches!" said charmain. "one of them was my mother!" "well, my mother's a witch," peter said. "and you only had to look at the proud one in silk to see that she was a witch."

peter getting defensive about gardening i LOVE this kid

charmain suggesting that peter sit on the trolley to find out where things disappear to when they put stuff on it

the supremely random fact that, for some reason, people of high norland are great on clocks and charmain's house itself had seventeen of them

waif running after charmain every time charmain tries to get her to stay at the house on her first day of helping the king in the library

the fact that princess hilda and the king wanted to poach HOWL?? howl jenkins pendragon??? the most pathetic cringefail man in all of ingary??? which sure they don't realize. but the idea that they want to after everything WE know is so fucking funny

sophie struggling with the butter dripping down her fingers

"charmain could not think why mrs. pendragon was staring at him in such horror. he was surely a truly enchanting child. and what long, curly eyelashes! 'with my husband and his fire demon,' mrs. pendragon finished. her face had gone fiery red, and she glared at the little boy across the toddler's head."

"i have no opinion of men's ability to manage anything." - princess hilda 2023 (or 2008, when this was published)

anyways this entire thing with 'twinkle' was fucking hilarious oh my god

SOPHIE STAMPING HER FOOT AND CALLING HOWL "disgustingly pretty" WHEN HOWL ASKS HER IF SHE THINKS HE'S PRETTY AT ALL

the whole pipe scene when charmain gets home and everything is flooded. also, charmain using a bath brush as a wand

howl sitting very politely on the roof waiting for charmain to rescue him while charmain is panicking about getting him down

THE FACT THAT HOWL IS APPARENTLY SCARED OF HEIGHTS BUT CLIMBED THE ROOF ANYWAYS JUST SO HE COULD TALK TO CHARMAIN IN PRIVATE

bakery apprentice timmy cuddling waif when charmain comes back out to the front and her thinking it means they won't be lifelong enemies after all

all the rocking horses. for protection, obviously

prince ludovic using the kobolds to steal the money from high norland and timminz going "well, nobody asked" when charmain wanted to know why he hadn't told anyone

when all the lubbockins reveal themselves and literally everything dissolves into absolute chaos, particular moments including: - the king and princess hilda shouting "not in the library!!" so imperiously that the lubbockins actually changed direction - "i had a miserable childhood, nobody loved me" and "don't listen to him it's all a pose" - morgan revealing that prince ludovic wears a wig - HOWL SWITCHING PLACES WITH MORGAN, NOT AS TWINKLE BUT HIMSELF, SO THAT LUDOVIC FINDS HIMSELF WITH AN ARMFUL OF HOT WIZARD WHO IMMEDIATELY PUNCHES HIM IN THE FACE. FUCK YEAH HOWL - to which ludovic whines "how DARE you do that!" and howl goes "bad luck" and punches him AGAIN - waif committing murder, twice

peter barreling into the room long after everything had ended and feeling quite proud of himself for finally getting some magic right, about twenty pages from the end of the book

and when he DOES come barreling in he immediately narrows in on charmain ("i knew she was making a stupid fuss, she's never sensible about things")

#peter barreling in is genuinely one of my top moments in the whole book #this whole thing is insane i love it #howl's moving castle #house of many ways #diana wynne jones #sou says stuff

[melis-writes]

Moth to Flame (Part II) [Michael Corleone x Reader Series, 18+ Smut] Chapter 42 – Matrimony.

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 41 / Chapter Masterlist. / Fic Playlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“You’re a Corleone woman now, after all." / “You’re my bride. You deserve that and all the more, do you understand?”

You married Michael Corleone in the summer of 1949, binding the allyship of your two families together but sealing your matrimony with love, bliss and trust. Falling in love, compatibility, love languages and a change in your lifestyle met you in an instant, and being Mrs. Michael Corleone altered your life forever. You can still remember how you fell for him and every bit of affection and intimacy shared from the beginning. You remember; you remember it all, and as you look into the past to compare it to your present and expect for your future, you realize nothing remains changed.

[WARNINGS]: Mentions of virginity/loss of virginity, nudity, sexual themes & depictions, heavy touching & kissing, fingering, mentions of pregnancy & planning for children, sex.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: The first in-between chapter of Moth to Flame: Part II is finally here!! 😫🙏🏻 I'm sooo sorry for such a delay in posting this chapter, but life has been extremely hectic and busy. 😭 The Vichael girlies are going to adore this chapter is all I'm going to say! We delve into Victoria and Michael's marriage from the very beginning! 🤭❤️‍🔥 This is filled with romance, fluff and domestic wholesomeness. How Victoria and Michael fell in love to how their lives changed as husband and wife and more is all included. I wanted this to be very romantic and sensual before we dive back into the action of current day Moth to Flame! 😳

1956. Your name is Victoria Ferrari Corleone, and you’re the wife of the most powerful mobster in North America–Michael Corleone. A lifestyle of crime and secrecy is all you've known and ever wanted to know, complimenting the cruelty of Michael Corleone's influence in the United States. With your enemies fallen before you and all loose ends tied up, you continue your life and marriage with the Corleone family while refusing to look back on your past. Yet it's the skeletons in your closet that a shine a light on revealing you're a true mafiosa. Ensnared in the shadows just as much as Michael is, you find yourself betrayed by the unexpected with all of your secrets ready to spill–especially ones you've hidden from Michael. With more than one pair of eyes watching your every move, you find yourself trapped amidst potential scandals and a familiar, lovesick secret admirer adamant on removing Michael out of the picture to have you all to himself. Like a moth to a flame, you've reached the point of no return and the light that breaks down the darkness threatens to take you next.

Bouquets of pink and white roses, white silk, lilac adornments, angel food cake, the lace finishing over your wedding gown, and the taste of Michael’s lips over yours; you married Michael Corleone in the summer of 1949.

Planning for your wedding was one of the few and only times in your life when you felt you had a million things going through your mind at once. 

After weeks of careful planning, the hardest part—the wedding itself—came in bliss and resonated perfectly with everything you had in mind for your perfect wedding day. 

The colors you chose for your wedding ranged from an equal hint of décor in baby pink, lilac, and beige, whereas peonies, lilacs, and dahlias were your flowers of choice.

Silk tablecloth, handcrafted Italian furniture imported from Sicily, seven-tier angel food cake, seven varieties of cannoli from pistachio to limoncello, over a hundred bottles of wine—Grilo, Inzolia and Grecanico just to name a few—aged at least ten years, French champagne, little pastries of sorbets and mini cheesecakes served throughout and freshly squeezed juice from the fruit from the Corleone garden itself were just some of the highlights of your wedding day.

Even your wedding gown itself had been custom designed and tailored with the finest Italian silks and fabrics, following a lengthy session of perfecting your hair, makeup, and manicure with your mother, Mama Corleone, Connie, and Sandra down to rehearing how you would walk down the aisle to which sets of jewelry with diamonds and pearls suited you best. 

Everything was planned and executed to perfection—to say the least. Scarcely were there moments throughout the planning period where the wedding wasn’t mentioned in one way or another; it was the only topic on your mind for days to come.

Consummation of your marriage was expected next from all through tradition and customs, but it wasn’t a concept you and Michael personally believed in. 

Although you were a virgin before you met Michael, he most certainly was not. After his brief marriage with Apollonia, the concept of no intimacy until marriage let alone time spent together or some form of physical affection before marriage was seen and strictly enforced as heavily taboo in Sicily only reminded him of how backward he believed the concept to be, as did you.

Of course, you and Michael were both anticipating and thinking about the intimacy you’d share with one another after your wedding celebration, but not immediately after. That would be eagerly waiting for the both of you at the end of the night.

With the wedding cake having been cut, final drinks served and last dances shared, both of your families collected together all of the bridal gifts, thanked and said goodbyes to every guest they could get to while the wedding staff began to clean up.

Michael and you stood for more photographs by and with guests, thanking them for attending as well before you both made off with security to the vehicle that would take you to your first estate.

You’d both arrive at your new estate by the time security did a full sweep and search of the Corleone manor and all festivities had officially come to an end.

Before you and Michael would settle down for the remainder of the day after the wedding, you both went to meet with your families and new in-laws.

Tomorrow morning there’d be the wedding reception to look forward to after all, but there was more than enough for both you and Michael to think about and do before then.

~

Upon stepping out of your chauffeur’s vehicle at your new estate’s grounds, the first thing your eyes found were those of your bodyguards surrounding your new estate.

Noting the heavy yet inconspicuous security around, it was only a split second longer before you blinked and a warm smile crossed over your lips in reaction to Michael standing by your side; his hand laced with yours as you both began to make your way inside the estate.

Just a few feet from the front door you could already hear the cheerful voices and banter of your parents and in-laws in the foyer; you couldn’t help but feel your exhilarated mood amplify with excitement once more.

“Victoria! Michael! Sweetheart!” Your mother beamed, extending her arms out as she skipped over to the both of you.

Hugged, congratulated a dozen more times, and kissed by your parents and new-in-laws, happy tears are shed once again for you and Michael as a newlywed couple.

“Promettimi che mi chiamerai se ti serve qualcosa!” (Promise me you'll call if you need anything!) Carmela gently squeezed your shoulder after pulling away from a hug, smiling at you. 

“Home sweet home,” your mother cooed, bewildered by the grandiose luxury your new estate has to offer just by standing in the foyer alone. “How wonderful.”

“We’re looking forward to that wedding reception,” your father grinned, redirecting his gaze to Michael. “It’ll be an honor to dine in the newlyweds’ home.”

“It’s an honor to host,” Michael agreed, giving a small, quick smile. “I look forward to it, Don Ferrari.”

“Mm,” Vito nodded, approaching both you and Michael. “And the bridal gifts… I had them arranged to be placed in your guest room. Humble gifts as they may be from our family friends, but they’re close to overflowing.”

“A problem I’d actually like to deal with,” you giggled back. “Thank you, father.”

Naturally, the gifts you received from attending friends, family, and guests aren’t exclusive to gifts newlyweds would benefit from, but a wide variety of items ranging from cash bills to jewelry almost as if the givers were trying to appease you and Michael directly.

Without even having to look inside all of the bridal purses and open each individual gift, you already assumed to yourself there are thousands of dollars worth of gifts there alone waiting for you and Michael that may very well take days to completely open.

Your families deliberately didn’t stay for long to give you and Michael as much privacy as possible today, and you and Michael were more than happy to see them out with waves and smiles before settling down for the rest of the day.

“It’s not over for them,” Michael commented by the gates of the estate, loosening his tie.

“No, it isn’t,” you let out a light laugh, smoothening down your wedding gown. “Not until after the wedding reception, at least.”

Michael chuckled—a rare first time he’s in a somewhat lighthearted mood for the entirety of the day. “Do you need anything, darling?”

“No,” you blushed, gesturing down to your dress. “Only to get this lovely gown off of me in one piece and my makeup at last.”

Just a split second later, you both heard a sharp whistle come towards the gates of the estate which prompted you and Michael’s attention immediately. 

“Hey, Mikey!” Sonny hollered from the gates, leaning against his car and waving at both of you. “No invitations for Tom, Fredo, and I to see the new place, eh? Come on down!”

“I’ll be right with you,” Michael glanced back at you.

You nodded understandingly, relieved you’ll at least get the time to quickly undress and take off your makeup before finally getting to spend some time alone with Michael, and you’re more than happy to have Michael bond with his brothers before retiring for the rest of the day with you too.

The endless amounts of gifts and stuffed bridal purses crossed your mind once more as you entered the estate, imagining you and Michael would more than likely have to get Tom to secure any precious assets or cash bills while the other items remain secure.

You carefully slipped out of your wedding gown and let the lacy, tulle fabric pool at your feet as you grabbed a white, silk nightgown to step into; careful not to let any of your makeup smear against the fabric.

You’re not one to wear a full face of makeup on any regular day, but outings, special events, and evenings—especially your wedding—remain exceptions each time you enjoyed getting dolled up, but your daily beauty routine only consisted of your normal skincare steps, light eye makeup, a bit of eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick.

Upon Michael’s return inside the estate and to the bedroom to undress and unwind, it was his first time gazing upon your face without any makeup as you cautiously stored your nightgown away in an empty closet.

You hadn’t even noticed Michael’s eyes on you at first but picked up on his presence immediately; right then and there, Michael had found himself admiring your beauty and looks, stunned by your natural appearance.

“More congratulations?” You smiled shyly, turning around to face your new husband.

“Something like that,” Michael answered, tossing his tie onto the edge of the bed. “Nothing we both haven’t heard enough of.”

You held back your laughter, “then I hope you don’t mind I retired my glamor for the night already.”

“Not at all,” a ghost of a smile crossed Michael’s lips as he slowly began to approach you. “I’m sure the bridal gifts have nothing but your name on them, after all. I don’t think I need to go and see for myself.”

“Oh, please,” you felt a blush stinging your cheeks as you gazed up at Michael.

“You look beautiful,” Michael murmured, tilting your chin up to face him. “You know that?”

Your skin gave a healthy glow under the evening light as Michael admired every inch of you from the shape of your cheekbones to the color of your eyes, the curve of your lips, and your body language towards him filled with desire.

You expected then and there for Michael to lean in and kiss you, and he did, but gently upon your forehead as he let his warm lips linger over your skin.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment and embraced your husband, taking in the scent of his heavenly cologne as your heart began to race in your chest against his.

“You should expect all of this, you know,” Michael spoke to you in an ushered voice. “You’re a Corleone woman now, after all. Those gifts want nothing more than to appease and impress you, I’ll make sure of it myself.”

Michael’s intention is to spoil you to no avail and not only with material gifts but your every request; the luxurious lifestyle you can expect to live with him as Michael’s wife and the future mother of his children holds you on a separate pedestal next to being Don Ferarri’s wife, and Michael will continue to keep it that way.

The very gifts with your name engraved upon them awaiting you consisted of everything from cosmetics, luxurious perfumes, oils, and creams, full sets of dazzling jewelry set with diamonds and precious stones, congratulatory letters, towel sets followed by pacifiers, bibs, baby bottles, and cloth diapers that made you blush as you unwrapped them—knowing all would be expecting the news of your first pregnancy next.

An amused look crossed Michael’s eye as he wrapped his arms around you seeing you open the final present for today a set of two pacifiers, he saw a look of excitement over your own expression but also blush spreading over your cheeks as the two of you made eye contact once again, knowing the rest of the night began to the both of you. 

~

The first home you and Michael owned together and settled in was a grand estate in Long Island but outside of the Corleone mall unlike Connie and Carlo’s home and that of Sonny and Sandra’s that were inside the gated family community.

Still, your new home was not far from Michael’s family or yours, and you could make the commute in twenty minutes. 

The plot of land in which your new estate would be built was purchased immediately on the day of your engagement ceremony with construction where your father and Vito had given the green light for construction to begin the day of.

Normally for the size of your estate, it would have taken a good construction crew six months with daily work, but the home was completely finished in just one. Bringing in extra of the best workers and paying a premium always worked well in the end. 

Your grand estate stood at just slightly over five thousand square feet with state-of-the-art architecture, taking inspiration from Modern American design to Italian fixtures and marble imported from Rome. 

Your estate was two stories, finished with an attic consisting of a master bedroom with a walk-in closet designed to be almost the size of a small bedroom for you and Michael, a study that was half a private library, two guest rooms downstairs, a nursery upstairs, a wine room in the basement, full front and back yard, three other extra bedrooms, an office for Michael and four bathrooms.

A mid-sized swimming pool was built in the backyard where your home’s carefully curated and trimmed garden surrounded the sides and fences protected your family’s privacy so one could neither look into the estate grounds nor out of it.

Twenty-four-hour surveillance was always to be expected with varying bodyguards and a careful selection of specific windows—such as the ones in Michael’s office—were selected and built to be soundproof.

Your bathtub had 24k gold claw-finished, quartz countertops as well as in the kitchen, marble floors, a foyer in the front of the estate fit with a French handcrafted chandelier, a private exit to the gardens and plenty of storage with a full laundry room at the end of the hallway downstairs.

Crown fixtures adorned the kitchen and a wide spiral staircase decorated with a blood-red carpet led upstairs to where one of two hidden emergency exits only you and Michael knew how to activate could be found.

The price of your home came to a grand total of $250,000 and was exactly where you and Michael wanted to be; exactly where the two of you planned to start your family and raise your children.

Michael and you had both grown up in Long Island; meaning nothing short of symbolic with the feel of home settling into your first house in New York together.

You and Michael only had a brief discussion about where your first home could be since the two of you came to an agreement so quickly to choose Long Island to stay in.

At the time, thoughts of buying another home elsewhere or even moving in the future were not on your mind although Michael had begun to think of Nevada and a villa in Sicily almost immediately on; the latter being a familiar and mutually agreed upon idea to you.

Of course, both you and Michael’s family knew just as well as the both of you why you didn’t have a honeymoon after your wedding, and there were no questions asked or teasing to be made.

Going on a honeymoon with Michael after your wedding was in your mind just as much as your wedding was, but the same could not be said for Michael who was much too preoccupied with the danger and threat of another family war, especially with hostility coming from the Ricci family.

Going outside of New York—let alone going to Sicily—would paint a clear, red target over both your and Michael’s backs and especially create vulnerability within the Corleone family considering Vito was semi-retired at the time.

It didn’t matter if you and Michael decided to visit Rome, Venice, or anywhere else in Italy just for the sake of visiting home but staying away from Sicily; the mafia families including the Ricci’s still had power stretching there legitimately.

Naturally, both you and Michael yearned to take a true honeymoon trip to Sicily and Sicily only. Even with the rest of the world as a choice to visit, you would have rather continued to postpone your honeymoon until you could safely visit Sicily again without having to worry about anything but how to spend quality time with your husband.

You’d very well have your honeymoon with Michael a little after your first anniversary together, somewhat defeating the purpose of a true honeymoon but with the threat of your lives and your family on the line, it was all very worth it with a legitimate reason to delay.

In Michael’s second marriage now come hell or high water he would never risk a slight chance of you being anywhere where there’s a notion of danger, even if you begged him to.

“Well,” you bit your lip, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m a little disappointed, but I understand.”

“I know, darling,” Michael raised his water glass to his lips, taking a sip. “I feel no different than you do.”

You brushed your fingers against the fabric of the window’s curtains and glanced over to Michael again. “They’ll know, won’t they?”

Michael’s eyes met with yours almost instantly; his expression appeared grim knowing you referred to the Ricci family, but with the Barzinis and Tattaglias to worry about as well.

“As they do,” Michael replied and set his glass down. “Does it bother you?”

“Not exactly,” you shook your head and faced the window—blushing as you felt Michael’s presence approach you from behind. “But it’s been on my mind again and again these past few weeks. I can’t shake it off.”

“And on mine,” Michael lovingly embraced you from behind and lightly pressed his chest against your back. “As much as I would like to degrade them to such, they’re not animal enough to disgrace a wedding, even without an invite.”

“They should know better,” you murmured under your breath.

“And they more than likely do,” Michael nodded and moved his hands down to your hips to tenderly caress them. “None of those men deserve further justifications, but above all, they’re curious about you, and just who you are.”

You placed your hands over Michael’s and gave them a soft squeeze as you remained quiet.

“If it’s about safety—” Michael began.

“I feel safe with you,” you told him as you turned around.

Michael’s eyes locked onto yours as he gave you a small nod; you swore to yourself for a moment that you could see a glimmer of a brief smile over his plush lips. 

“I do,” you continued, “always. And as you can guess…” You blushed sheepishly, “I was thinking about our honeymoon too, and we can’t even go.”

“We will soon enough,” Michael rubbed up and down your arms gingerly. “When we are able to and when we can. You know it’s not something I want to put aside to forget or neglect.”

“I know, baby,” you smiled back shyly. “I believe you.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Michael lowered his tone of voice and pressed a warm kiss over your forehead. “I promise I will. None of what our family is going through now will last. I personally guarantee it,” as Michael moved back from the kiss, he tilted your chin up to gaze directly into his eyes. “You’re my bride. You deserve that and all the more, do you understand?”

Blushing furiously and feeling a wave of butterflies rush to the pit of your stomach, you nodded at Michael before leaning up to give his lips a sweet kiss.

“I’ll wait until you say we can go,” you whispered against his lips as you wrapped an arm around Michael’s shoulders.

“Until then,” Michael murmured and closed off the distance between both of your bodies, ensnaring you in a deep kiss once more.

~

Michael’s changed lifestyle to a mafioso and your continued one as a mafiosa would never change. You both married one another knowing what your lives are and would continue to be, but also remaining unaltered.

You’re a lawyer, after all, and a skilled prosecutor with a name made for herself—reputation and all—in New York. Your career is more than something you see to corrupt and use for your “family business”, but is also a passion; something you want to continue doing until you feel ready to retire.

Michael was always impressed as to how you were able to find a passionate career that also benefited both sides of the family business. 

Through being a lawyer, you also bonded well with Tom and had another fellow lawyer as a brother-in-law to bond with.

Regardless of whether you and Michael choose to have one child a fear down the line or four back to back, Michael has no intention of interfering in your career or keeping you from it; the same can be said for any of your other passions and hobbies.

You already know your maternity leave from work and raising an infant will take priority in your life which will result in a break from work, but you’ve accepted it and will make it happen. 

Perhaps if you weren’t a mafiosa yourself from a powerful crime family, you would have fit the bill as a mafioso’s housewife better but Michael recognizes your true talents and abilities just as well as you know yourself.

Now married, you attend trials and continue with your cases at most three times a week. After all, you’ve always been careful in choosing which cases to get involved in while maintaining a flexible schedule for yourself.

You built a reputation with your prowess this far without Michael and his family’s influence, which begs the question of what Michael’s lifestyle has become after marrying you.

Michael is always working, even when he’s not. More than ever, Michael spends time with his father and brothers. Even when Michael is alone in his own office, he’s talking over the phone to his men or family and constantly keeping himself preoccupied until he’s with you.

Michael’s unwavering dedication to the family business, his loyalty, and his work ethic don’t bother you. As a matter of fact, it’s everything you expected from Michael and saw coming before you married him.

What you love about Michael’s work with the family business is that he can separate it and he will separate it very well from his personal life. 

Michael does not mention anything related to his work when he’s with you regardless of how casual the circumstances or if your own curiosity arises since your family is also almost always involved. 

You know then and only in those scenarios would you ask Michael a question if you had one and your family could not answer; you know your boundaries and where the line remains when asking Michael about his work.

To Michael, any mention of what he does and what he is outside of work is nothing but severely unpleasant and he would rather avoid it altogether; something you respect and agree with.

At dinner one evening, you saw Michael’s tension settled within him as he ate—sitting across from you in silence. 

Michael sighed quietly and took a sip of his red wine before his eyes met yours; seeing curiosity spark in your expression.

“Ready to settle down, baby?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Something like that,” Michael nodded, continuing to eat his risotto. 

“Everything alright with your father?” You asked and rose up from your seat to begin cleaning up. 

“He’s fine,” Michael’s answers were dry and to the point on purpose. “We’re working on it.”

“Alright,” you gathered a pile of empty plates, brushing off crumbs upon the tablecloth next to Michael.

Only a split second later did you look back up at Michael and catch his eye—almost feeling embarrassed for asking but you neither see annoyance nor discomfort in Michael’s expression. 

You understood Michael didn’t want to talk about this with you and you didn’t push it. You also knew last night he didn’t come home from his father’s estate until 2 AM, and you had no intention of bothering him about it now. 

You’ve always had more than enough to do for yourself and for the home regardless of how long Michael worked in or out of the manor. 

You’d have your own day to worry about; cleaning up after breakfast, prepping for lunch, tidying up the house, laundry if required, getting any other daily errands done, focusing on a bit of your own work projects, then relaxing with a good book or in front of the television with a glass of wine. 

You could step out into the garden for some fresh air, pull weeds, water the lawn, go for a walk or a dip in the pool; you balance your work and life well and you’ve never felt neglected or lost without a sense of purpose.

The compatibility between you and Michael is like none other and the two of you have always recognized this; there is no lack of transparency or intimacy, and there is no elephant in the room blocking the two of you from bonding with one another.

You and Michael could and always will make it work. 

~

When it came down to planning to start a family with each other, having children was brought up immediately between Michael and you; a crucial concept and the second step into a married life with one another.

Of course, the brief conversation that only consisted of asking one another if you wanted children when you and Michael had first met did not count as a real and insightful conversation, it did strike you that Michael was a mature and serious man, ready for fatherhood and expecting to start a family in the very near future.

Michael would not have minded waiting a year or two before having children, but he would personally not wish to delay it any further past that.

To Michael, it was as if he had an urgency of some kind to start a family but there was no reasoning behind it or pressure coming from anyone. Still, you came to appreciate how much Michael anticipated entering parenthood with you, regardless of his reasons.

Perhaps you did sense Michael’s urgency when he first met you and asked if you wanted to have children in the future, but you simply had brushed it off for all that it was—a simple question.

You were twenty-five years old when you met Michael, and you were the second youngest sibling in your family and the only daughter.

With your little brother Dante being fifteen years younger than you, you practically raised him alongside your brothers and because you came from an equally large extended family, you loved children for as long as you could remember.

Just as you and your brothers had grown up, you knew the importance of proper parenting and how love would mold a child’s life forever.

Michael believed children were the products of their parents’ discipline, love, and behavior, saying, “If adults can bring out the worst in each other, they can do the same for children”.

Michael himself was twenty-nine when he met you and neither of you had objections of any kind to starting a family immediately after getting married.

Coming from the families and reputations you both grew up in and had, things such as time and money would simply not be an issue for you and Michael.

It was more of a matter of readiness and active parenting heavily required from both of you equally, not just yours as the mother. 

You also knew Michael would be a stricter parent than you, but this did not imply anything harsh or along the lines of cruelty whatsoever. 

Michael is not the type of man to ever raise a hand against a child or even raise his voice; calm, and collected, and with thorough explanation comes discipline and understanding. Michael knows how a child’s mind copes and works. 

You are most definitely not the kind of parent to yell, threaten, let alone glare at children to have them respect or tolerate your fear let alone beat a child.

Neither Michael nor you ever faced such things growing up, but you both saw your fair share growing up with other children at school and in the neighborhood who did not have the same childhood as you two did.

Any type of abuse or psychological manipulation was a severe hard line; it was something you and Michael would never subject any child to, ever.

From being the only big sister to your little brother Dante, you knew there were a million ways around teaching and disciplining children without being physically, psychologically, or verbally abusive—even to children who have behavior issues. 

You and Michael had been stressing to yourselves subconsciously the need to be nothing but good, loving parents teaching your future children manners and discipline early on without fear of repercussions or pain, but simply just to learn and understand.

~

Just a week ago you walked down the aisle and faced your lover—for the last time only as a lover before becoming Michael’s wife, wedded as Mrs. Corleone.

Now as you gazed at yourself in the mirror, the role of Michael Corleone’s wife had already truly embedded in you; seeing your husband clasping a new diamond necklace around your neck gently.

You blushed as you caught Michael’s eye in the mirror, placing a hand over your necklace carefully.

Michael admired the glistening diamonds over your neck; his eyes adoring the very shape of your collarbones before he leaned toward your shoulder and planted a soft kiss over it.

With a bit of arousal having flared up in you, you shivered from Michael’s warm touch as he let his hands linger around the back of your neck before he placed them on your hips.

“Mm,” your eyes fluttered shut as you took in the brief moment, feeling Michael’s breath over the side of your neck.

Michael’s hands slowly made their way over to your stomach where he rubbed tenderly, watching as your body language submitted to how good he was already making you feel.

“Are you late?” Michael murmured over your shoulder.

Butterflies churned in your stomach and blush stung your cheeks at the very question. “I think it’s still too soon to tell, baby.”

“Mm,” Michael nodded and began to massage your sides.

“Why do you ask?” You slowly opened your eyes and spoke to him in a soft, ushered tone. “Do you suspect I am?”

“Perhaps,” Michael answered, “I want to be the first to know.”

You cracked a shy smile, “and you will be without a doubt.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Michael took your hands in his, turning you around to face him directly before he pulled you into his embrace. “Although you never did tell me how many you wanted.”

“I can tell you now,” you rested your head over Michael’s chest and nodded. “Four little ones… That would be something.”

“Mhmm,” Michael kissed the top of your head. “A topic better suited for the future after we have our first.”

“Boy or girl?” You grinned and looked up at your husband.

“Doesn’t matter,” Michael told you. “But ultimately a son somewhere down the line to succeed our family.”

‘Of course.’ You knew it must have been the same with Michael’s father as it was with yours; one son at the very least to carry the family’s legacy under his name. ‘Understandable.’

“If you’re not…” Michael’s hands touched your hips again; his eyes beckoning to you. “Then we can try again.”

“And again?” You teased back, giggling. “Tonight.”

“Tonight,” Michael murmured and pulled your hips into his.

“As many times as we need to, hmm?” Your breath hitched as you bit down on your lip.

“As many times as you want to,” Michael corrected before he sealed a kiss over your lips.

~

The intimacy and love continuing to blossom between you and Michael unfolded in feverish desire and yearning. Like the beginning of an eternal and dangerous addiction, neither of you could get enough of the other.

Michael knew your love language was physical affection and words of affirmation just as you knew he was spending quality time with you and touching. 

Michael couldn’t care less for material gifts and preferred experiences above all, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t care, enjoy, or appreciate either.

“Ah…” A breathy moan escaped your lips as your hand clutched over Michael’s back; feeling his firm, flexing muscle as Michael remained leaning down and hovering over your naked body.

Between the sounds of Michael’s lips leaving a trail of hot kisses over your neck, you heard his breathing hitching as his throbbing erection pressed against your stomach.

Barely a week into your marriage and filled to the brim with insatiable love and desire, Michael was unable to get enough of his new bride and her beauty.

“Ohhh…”

Inhaling deeply, Michael took in your scent as he nuzzled your neck; now glowing pink with the love marks he left behind as you had let your free hand roam through Michael’s tousled hair.

“Look at me,” Michael whispered against your lips as he grazed his thumb over your mouth, parting your bottom lip. “Look at me when I make love to you.”

‘Oh God, yes…’

The first three months of marriage may as well have been a fever dream for both of you. 

Of course, none would be surprised at the sudden stamina the new bride and groom have for one another although some teasing and a dirty joke here and there would be in order, but if it wasn’t a night out or quality time spent with the family, Michael and you were doing nothing else but getting lost in one another again and again.

You’d lay in bed naked with the blankets barely covering yourself as you’d watch Michael strip down right in front of you before approaching you on the bed, and Michael enjoyed every second of undressing you himself with his own hands; the way the curves of your hips and fullness of your thighs felt against his hand as your skin was hot to the touch, brimming with passion and your body begging for pleasure was nothing short of ecstasy to Michael.

With your bodies intertwined with one another, you could practically feel Michael’s heart racing against yours; nothing but toe-curling, eye-rolling, intense orgasms, and memorizing every part of each other’s bodies filled your evenings for days to come.

You woke an urge tailored to your pleasure inside of Michael he could not ignore. Even after a night of ecstasy, if you approached him half-naked in the living room and begged Michael to fuck you again, he wouldn’t say no. 

You straddled Michael’s lap and let your lace panties slip off your ankles as you felt the smooth, Italian silk fabric of Michael’s suit brush against your bare skin.

On his lap, you let out a whimpering moan as you pressed your hips against his and ran your hands up Michael’s half-unbuttoned dress shirt; his chest hair brushing past your fingers as you clutched onto his shoulders.

Michael leaned his back against his seat comfortably; his hands ran from your calves to your upper thighs before he cupped your ass and gave it a greedy squeeze.

Michael’s eyes expectantly looked at you. “You play the innocent, sweet role well…” 

“Mm—” You whimpered as you pressed your lips against Michael’s neck from him giving your ass another harsh squeeze.

“But I see right through it,” Michael whispered to you—his tone low and husky. 

“I…” You breathed shakily against Michael’s skin before planting a deep kiss over it; your free hand roamed through his black, silky hair.

You heard a barely audible, soft moan escape Michael’s lips which only intensified the feverish arousal coursing through your veins as you continued to hungrily kiss up and around Michael’s neck.

Michael wrapped one arm around your waist and kept his hand over your ass; his eyes half remained half-opened as he let you get lost within him, taking and getting everything you want.

Your kisses grew wet, hot, and sloppy around Michael’s jawline as you moaned through them yourself; severely aroused to the point where you thought your wetness pooling over the fabric of your panties was soaking through Michael’s trousers.

“Mine…” You cupped Michael’s cheek and turned his face to look him in the eye directly. “All mine…”

“Yours,” Michael said back before his lips sealed over yours in a crushing, needy kiss.

Your pussy throbbed from arousal over Michael’s knee; it practically had a heartbeat of its own from how horny you were feeling towards your husband—so much so that it was almost criminal.

“Look at you,” As Michael pulled away from the kiss, he gripped your throat with his free hand and let his thumb trace the outline of your bottom lip. “Can’t get your hands off of me.”

“You’re mine,” you panted back and took Michael by pleasant surprise as you licked his thumb. “

“That’s right, baby,” Michael murmured before pulling you back to him by your throat to give you another wet, rough kiss over the mouth. 

As you fully straddled Michael’s lap and began to slowly grind your hips, gyrating them against Michael’s pulsating erection, Michael let his hands slip up through your skirt and play with the band of your panties.

Lost in insistent, passionate kisses, Michael pulled at your panties only to let it snap back against your skin as you were distracted between his lips.

Michael let his fingers go further, parting your dewy pussy lips to spread your wetness with one hand while squeezing your breast and massaging your nipple with his fingers on the other.

Aside from such fiery, mutual infatuation and lust, there was more; there was and always will be more. 

The love between you and Michael blossomed so naturally that it could never feel forced like it was some sort of obligation that had to be fulfilled.

In public, despite the two of you being not so fond of blatant displays of affection, held hands or had Michael wrap an arm over your waist in casual but adoring affection you craved and yearned for always.

Just one touch from Michael—let alone his presence—was more than enough for you. It did nothing but thrill you all the more knowing this man is yours and you’re his; you’ll have all of Michael whenever you want and however you want. 

Distance makes your heart grow fonder when Michael’s away on his business trips or doesn’t come home for a night. You’ve never felt insecurity, unsafe, or any sort of lingering sadness about Michael’s consistent absences to begin with.

Even at the end of a long night with little time to yourselves to follow another eventful one, you’d have just the same satisfaction in Michael’s embrace without the sexual intimacy. 

Some of your most loving, romantic nights with Michael were the two of you skin-to-skin on the rooftop, naked and exchanging soft kisses as Michael smoked a cigarette.

Saying, “Yes, I do” and signing your marriage papers, your legal name became Victoria Ferrari Corleone; a unique love and lover to Michael in the sense that Michael could never treat you the way he treated Apollonia or Kay, but exponentially more protective, loving, and open to you in all aspects.

Your compatibility with Michael only resulted in him being all the more open with you; not feeling obligated to because you’ll get upset or ask, but because Michael wishes to—because he wants to. 

There’s simply no entitlement; only love and caring. You could not describe your marriage to Michael Corleone in any other way.

#the godfather #al pacino #michael corleone x reader #michael corleone x oc #michael corleone fanfic #godfather au #michael corleone smut #michael corleone x reader smut #michael corleone #the godfather x reader #godfather x reader #alfredo james pacino #the godfather part ii #moth to flame fic #moth to flame fanfic

[roryintheir90s]

Any fanfictions recomms?

You have not specified what type of fanfiction you're searching for, but I will try to recommend the ones I like a bunch.

And pls do read through the tags carefully before reading! Some of those fics may include violence or mature ratings.

Trust life by Capritarius

STATUS: ongoing

RATING: mature

CHAPTERS: 57/?

WORDS: 275k

MAIN SHIPS: Jimmy/Tango, Jimmy/Scott, Scott/Tango

needs to go first ofc, I don't think I will ever be able to praise it enough 👌

it's just perfect to me. Has everything one needs from a story, drama, complicated relationship, scenes that makes you wanna bawl your eyes out but at the same time it has those sweetest moments ever.

Plus, which is a huge positive for me, no one in the fic is necessarily bad. If you look from the perspective of another person, you can actually realised that ye, maybe what they did or are doing isn't great, but you get why they're like this. Well outside of few people. But for that you gotta read it.

To have and to hold by Green_Life_Lily

STATUS: completed

RATING: teen and up

CHAPTERS: 50

WORDS: 87k

SHIP: Jimmy/Scott

Gen, I love this ff. It's angsty tho. Scott tries his best to help his husband, but it feels sometimes like it never works, and never gets better. It's heartbreaking to be fair. Outside of flower husbands, other relationships are ambiguous. It also gets A LOT worst before it gets even slightly better.

You seriously just feel for the guys, they doing everything they can, only for it to fail or be meet with the gut punching situation.

Everyone struggles there, A LOT.

You looked so good in green by apollothetransboy

STATUS: completed

RATING: mature

CHAPTERS: 13

WORDS: 52k

MAIN SHIP: Scott/Martyn and Jimmy/Scott in p2

I loved this SM. You guys have no idea. Something I recommend to read if you're into a complicated relationship overall. This one doesn't have a happy ending, BUT Apollo is so nice and good and amazing, that we have a p2 to it called

I try to worry for your soul but I forget to

Which is from Jimmys perspective and DO have a happy ending.

It's actually a whole series for this au, and I gen telling you guys to check it out.

It's called the ocean at you door.

One restless summer and hide your heart by StormChaosfox

STATUS: both completed

RATING: mature

SHIP: Scott/Jimmy

Just complicated the relationship between Scott and Jimmy, both of them being dumb and pining, but being scared bc of their past experiences. Lots of regrets and hurt. Plus second book adds skulk and evil sausage to the mix.

Can't say much about this one, because Gen, most of it just just a love drama! So I can't say much because of spoilers.

Tell me one more beautiful lie by apollothetransboy

STATUS: ongoing

RATING: teen and up

CHAPTERS: 11/16

WORDS: 61k

SHIP: tango/martyn/jimmy/scott

Another fic and another slay from Apollo. I love this fic sm. Lots of angst, but also it has it's sweet moments 🥺 it's like my comfort fic.

Truly you guys gotta read it.

Explosions across lifetimes by thed0zyslider (HollowWish)

STATUS: ongoing

RATING: teen and up

CHAPTERS: 22/?

WORDS: 96k

SHIP: fWhip/Jimmy

If you a fwhimmy fan you've probably heard of this one. Gosh, it's such a good one. But what can I say, I'm a sucker for enemies turn lovers. It's sweet, it's cute. It's just AaAAAAAA

A billion amounts to nothing in infinity face by FulminateTheSun

STATUS: ongoing

RATING: teen and up

CHAPTERS: 12/24

WORDS: 43k

SHIP: Jimmy/Sausage

I'm positive that this fic is abandoned, but its still a worthy read. Like gen, its a good fic. I think sausage x Jimmy deserve more attention. They're the moment, and they're just so AAAA could arrange them in the most positive way ever. I just love them

I gen don't know whether you wanted those types of fics, but these are one of my favorite. If you want anything else do let me know I'm more then happy to share!

#any askers??? #Romyramble #Ff #Fanfiction #Recommendations #Mcyt #Empires #traffic series #flower husbands #Fwhimmy #Team rancher #Mean gills #Property police #Solidwood #Mirrorbirds #martyn inthelittlewood #Scott smajor #Fwhip #Jimmy solidarity #Tangotek

[w1tchy-w00]

Hi!

 

I used to write fan fictions and other stories way back in high school and posted them to my old Tumblr page. With thanks to Tik Tok, I have a new obsession with Ghost from COD: MWII. My new obsession has led me back to my roots on Tumblr LOL. I wanted to give writing another shot because I truly love it. I maybe a bit rusty but, I hope some of y’all enjoy this story! Disclaimer: I am writing this from my perspective as an American who is AFAB.

 

Word Count: ~1.9k

 

TW: fluff, smut, breeding, impregnation, daddy kink, rough sex, spanking, and all that jazz.

 

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

 

Welcome Home

 

            You have been running around nervously all day. The clock kept ticking on as you watched it for what seemed like a long time. Your heart was racing as you wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Your husband, Simon, was finally coming home after ages of being away.

 

Your husband, Simon Riley, is better known as the mysterious, stealthy, and deadly “Ghost” by comrades and enemies alike. Being a part of the British special forces and Task Force 141, Ghost was often gone for weeks and even months at a time. Most of the time, you had no idea what it was about or what was going on. Many say that in the military, “No news is good news.” However, when you suddenly got a call from your husband and he had good news, you were overjoyed. It had been a long three months with barely any communication. According to Simon, this was “top secret.” Most things to him were “top secret.” This included your marriage. Simon did not ever think he would end up getting married. He never thought of himself as the type to get married, let alone enter a relationship. He saw himself more as a lone wolf. That is, until he met you a few years back when you were an informant for Task Force 141.

You looked around the home you shared with Simon. Everything was spotless, dinner was in the oven and would be baking for a while. The fire in the fireplace was still burning bright and warming up the living room. You were all showered off and, in a cozy, yet decent outfit. There was nothing else to be done but, you had to do something to calm your nerves. You would think after being married for a year; you would not get anxious at the thought of your husband coming home. You were excited but, wanted everything to be cleaned and in order so that Simon wouldn’t have to worry about anything upon coming home.

 

To try and unwind, you grabbed a wine glass and opened a bottle of a cheap red wine you had stashed somewhere. After pouring yourself a glass, you sat in a little nook of your home and watched as the sunset.

 

You had not even finished the glass when you heard keys jingling in the door. You perked up at the noise. You thought to yourself, “What do I do? Do I look casual? Do I go to the door already? Do I look like I’ve been sitting here staring at the door?” Before you could even decide on what to do, your husband strolled in. Ignoring your previous thoughts, you practically ran and jumped onto him. He was expecting it as he had already put his bags down and taken off his trademark balaclava (as far as you know, you’re one of the only people to see him without it). As you wrapped your legs and arms around him, he held you up by grabbing the backs of your thighs. While in a tight embrace he says in your ear, “Seems like you’re quite excited to see me.” You feel like squealing in excitement, but you can’t seem to form any words. Instead, you held him tighter and put your face in the crook of his neck. Light tears stream from your face as you say, “I’ve missed you so much.” His hands move up your thighs to your ass and squeezes lightly as he replies, “And I’ve missed you too, my love.” You absentmindedly moan a little when you feel his touch on your ass. “Eager, are we,” he chuckles, “it has been a while. Let’s do something about that.”

 

He walks with you still in his arms towards the bedroom and you can feel yourself getting wet as the anticipation for what is about to happen builds. Simon lays you on the soft comforter and laying on top of you, immediately locks his lips with yours. You missed the taste and feeling of his lips on yours. Your hands move around his neck as you deepen the kiss even more. His tongue enters your mouth as his hand simultaneously starts rubbing your clit over your pants. You moan into his mouth and your hands move to rake your nails against his back over his hoodie. You grind against his hand and whimper, wanting more.

 

“Tell Daddy what you want,” he says. You grind against his hand harder and put his face in your hands, feeling the subtle, “I want you, Daddy. Please!” He chuckles, “Good girl.” He pulls down your pants with your panties and puts your legs over his broad shoulders. You gasp loudly as he wastes no time in putting his tongue on your wet pussy. Licking thick stripes and sucking on your clit, you moan loudly and grind against his tongue. Grabbing one of your tits, you play with it yourself for added pleasure. Not looking up, Simon reaches under your sweater and paws at your tit for you. His fingers pinch your nipple as you whimper, “Daddy, I’ve missed you so much!” Removing his hand from your breast, he grabs your hips with an almost bruising force and brings them closer to him which lets him bury his face more into you. He moans into you and adds two long fingers. Pumping his digits in and out, you grab the comforter in desperation as your back arches against the bed. The stimulation and pleasure are overstimulating as you can barely form a coherent thought in your head. Simon continues to fuck you with his fingers quickly as he sucks on your clit and lightly puts it in between his teeth. Feeling a familiar knot in your stomach you say, “D-daddy! I-I’m going to cum!” Lapping up your juices he briefly replies, “Cum on Daddy’s face, princess.” With his permission, you moan loudly as your orgasm rips through your entire body. He praises you, “Such a good girl for Daddy, hm? You’re so fucking needy for my cock, aren’t you? I bet you’ve been waiting patiently for me to come back and fuck you like the sweet girl you are.”

 

You take off your top instead and get on your knees in front of him as you unzip his pants, “I want to suck your hard cock, Daddy. I want to show you how much I really missed you.” His head falls back as he moans, “You can read me like a book, darling. That’s why I love you so fucking much.” You look up at him as you take him down to your throat all at once. He moans loudly and puts his hand in your hair, wanting to see your beautiful eyes looking up at him as you suck him off. You pull back and swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tasting the precum and then take all of him again. Suddenly, he pulls himself back out of your mouth and then in again. He thrusts his hips towards your face, using the hand in your hair as leverage. Tears form in your eyes as you take all of him over and over in your mouth. You moan against his length, and he looks down at you, “You look so gorgeous when I fuck your face. You drive me crazy.” Slobber drips down the sides of your lips as you gag against his longer than average cock. He pulls out, “Catch your breath, sweet girl. I got something else I want to do to you.”

He picks you up off the ground and puts you back on the bed. Simon sheds the rest of his clothes and stands over you, “Look at that sweet pussy. So needy and wet for Daddy. My beautiful, little wife.” He starts to stroke himself as he says, “I need to breed that pretty pussy. You’d love that, wouldn’t you princess?” You find yourself getting wetter by the minute, “Y-yes.” He hums, “Hmm, yes, what? I need to hear you beg for it first.” Desperate for your husband you say, “Yes please Daddy! Please breed me! I want to have your babies so badly. I need to feel you fill me up with cum. Please! Please!” He groans and puts your legs against your chest, putting you in a mating press, “That’s all I needed to hear.” Simon thrusts into you, giving you no time to adjust to his length. You practically scream and your jaw goes slack as he pounds into you. As he moves in and out quickly, he grunts, “I’m going to fill this gorgeous, juicy pussy up and you better not waste a fucking drop of my cum. You’re going to have my babies.” You moan louder and louder. Then, he flips you over and you instinctively arch your back and he thrusts back into you hard. Grabbing your hips, he pushes you in and out to match his thrusts as you grip the bed. He takes one hand and smacks your ass, “Look at you! Look at that perfect ass. You were made for me!” You simply whimper in response. “I want to hear you say it. Tell Daddy that you were made for him. Tell Daddy that you belong to him.” Through the heavy thrusting and your moans, “I-I-I was made for you Daddy! I’m yours! All yours! I belong to you, every part of me! Put a baby in me! Show everyone who I really belong to!” That was all Simon needed to hear. He put you back in a mating press to look at you, “Good fucking girl.” He places a finger on your clit and rubs small circles as he pounds into you. “D-d-daddy! I-I’m gonna cum,” you manage to say through your whimpers and moans as pleasure comes in waves through your body. “Cum, sweet girl. Cum on Daddy’s cock.” You feel a release as your orgasm unravels. Your juices coat his cock as you moan louder. The sound and feeling of his hips and your ass smacking together as his cock moves in and out going deeper than you believed it could go, you became overstimulated. “I-I’m about to cu-“ he groans as he pushes further into you. You feel him twitch inside you as he comes down from his own orgasm.

 

He gets on the bed, lays down, and scoops you into his large, strong arms. Being in his arms always made you feel safe. You rest your head on his chest and catch your breath as he combs through your hair with his fingers. Simon places a few soft kisses on your forehead and lifts your chin up to kiss you, “I missed you so much, my love. You’re amazing. You know that? You take me so well after all this time.” You hum to his words, “I missed you too, honey.” He kisses your forehead once again, “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up before bed.”

#simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley fluff #ghost smut #ghost fluff

[pretty-prince-lulu]

I have GOT to talk about this colonist partly because he's interesting in his own right and partly because the idea of him as a story inspiration is fascinating to me and I'm sure someone out there will enjoy the concept

it's a bit long but we can focus on text around here!

started a tribal colony randomized the xenotypes with the intention of going with all non-baseliners (I presume they'd been liberated from a base with growth vats as infants and raised by tribesman, and never knew anything other than tribal life) we got: an animusen (fox person from Alpha Genes), who started pregnant from her missing VRE hussar husband), a dirtmole, a highmate (expanded upon by Vanilla Races Expanded- Highmates), a genie (ditto from the Genies module), and an android (likewise). who I assume, at the time of Liberation, was a simple service android, probably running a growth facility alone (not the same one by relative ages, but a similar one) who would have had zero skills across the board but also zero needs basically just a machine for renewing the supplies in the vats and whatever menial task the unmanned facility would have needed

these androids, however, do something interesting they start out as blank, subservient service droids (without needs or demands, occasionally rebooting to empty their RAM, which I presume looks to his fellows as a brief seizure and then he's fine) but when exposed to a great deal of stress or excitement (which I assume will have happened patching up after a raid or in some other dire circumstance, judging by the result) they Awaken whereupon they have a bunch of randomized traits unlock, and they become, in a very real sense an Actual Person. capable of feelings, romance, growth, learning, and almost everything a biological person can!

It is at this point I presume that all that he WAS is wiped from his memory banks, and from there on, he is a tribal. An ordinary man of flesh and blood, or so he insists.

he is Raven, a skinny, elderly man, who is really anything but.

he is not elderly at all- in fact, he's a relatively recent model, and is simply styled as an old wise man, a trait I imagine he took on when deciding to lead this tribe.

by programming, he has several double passion excellent skills: Medical, Intellectual, and... Social.

He leads our cult of magic and administering healthcare to all (including our enemies, who we release from prison after raids when we've treated their wounds)

This is not as interesting as his traits, which are as follows.

Wimp: This trait means he will go down very easily with pain.

He does not feel pain according to his health tab, so I'm taking this as psychological.

Desensitized: Won't get upset after horrible shit happens, which I'm chalking up to the same.

Schizoid: Can't express himself until he's stressed to the point of absolute meltdown, which I am, again, chalking up to past experiences.

Cat person: SAME, BABE

but the last one... the LAST one is what really compelled me to share.

Blood Mage.

Blood Mages work by using their magic in ways that interact with blood.

This includes: cutting themselves and using the hemorrhage to fuel their power

causing blood that is spilled to ignite like fuel

forcing someone else to bleed and vaporizing THAT blood specifically into a healing mist for himself

surrounding others in a shield made of the magic charged by bleeding himself

causing others to violently haemmorhage

the ultimate power (which he does not know): calling down a Blood Moon, which summons demons and other nasties upon our enemies.

Raven is an android.

Androids do not have blood.

When cut, Raven, instead, lurks neutroamine. This is also what comes out when he cuts himself to fuel his magic.

This is an ultra-technologically advanced substance, usually used to make advanced medications or drugs. We can learn how to grow the flower petals we can extract it from- but the casket and equipment needed to actually infuse it into our android is ultratech, and is behind about six layers of advancement.

For tribals, which has a massive penalty on research past the stone age.

Neutroamine in an android DOES NOT replenish when lost. It must be manually replaced.

It also interacts strangely with his powers.

Bleeding himself DOES charge his blood magic

The spilled neutroamine CANNOT be used like blood for spells (it will not heal others and it will not ignite)

He CAN use the charged power to shield his loved ones

He CAN make others haemmorhage and utilize that blood per normal.

This essentially renders him an opportunistic back-line defender and medic, who can bleed himself to shield others, but is a disastrous power to use because it's essentially a permanent down when he runs out.

This does not stop him defending the tribe.

Or his wife.

Or his daughter.

Androids cannot have children.

Did you know that, when they're paired up with highmates, they can reproduce telepathically- and that this is the only circumstance in which offspring is possible?

Did you know that, when these babies are born, they are- after briefly initiating- adults?

I presume this contributes to his insistence that he is an Ordinary Man.

Look at him.

He has a tribe. A wife. A daughter. So precocious for her age.

And so it shall be, until he calls up his shield for us, and the raiders are gone, and he sputters and fails, run out of his strange blue blood

and lies motionless for years upon years

until we learn the ways of the men from the skies.

#rimworld #honestly a fascinating story and/or character seed #I know someone will enjoy reading about it

[kristinamae093]

Ghosted

Ghosted - Always Watching (Chapter 8)

Series Summary - Prince Liam fell for Riley Brooks hard and fast. A marriage filled with love and devotion was within his reach. But everything changed when she vanished just before the end of the social season. As everyone voices their concerns regarding her scandalous departure, a confession from an unlikely source turns Liam's world upside down and makes him question everything around him.

Book/Pairing - TRR - Liam x MC (Riley Brooks)

A/N1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

The morning after the discovery of the maid’s body, Liam sat with Olivia, Drake, and Maxwell inside the study at the Applewood estate. Liam canceled the barn raising scheduled for the day early that morning. He told the press it was because of inclement weather, which was not necessarily a lie, although it wasn’t the entire truth. 

Liam realized they could not keep the murder under wraps forever. Only a few people knew the real reason for the cancellation, including those in the safe room, Drake, Olivia, Maxwell, and the guards. He planned to keep it that way until they knew who was responsible, and then he would happily release that information to the public. He visited with Rhonda’s family briefly and told her husband they would receive a stipend from the crown, as well as college funds for her children. 

They all believed that the incidents shared a relation; the only steady lead they had regarding Riley wound up dead days later, and that was no coincidence for anyone. Olivia explained to Liam in great detail her observations at the crime scene; after hearing her retelling, he too believed the area was staged, but he couldn’t make too many conclusions until Bastien presented him with the evidence. 

The bloodied dress put a sense of urgency on things, but the murder really made everything more critical. Whoever was behind this was clearly not playing a game and didn’t want their plan to be uncovered. He was growing restless, not knowing the extent to which this treachery ran. 

It appalled him that all of this happened right under his nose. The doubts about the narrative against Riley were always there, but this runs deeper than just wanting a particular woman to sit on the throne as Queen. Whoever orchestrated all of this was an enemy of the Crown, and Liam was determined to rid that negativity of his court. 

Another part of his impatience was purely the need to see with his own eyes that Riley was safe. The guilt he felt for turning his back on her crept up on him at random times throughout the day, but he was trying to push that aside and focus on locating her at any cost. He hoped that whoever was responsible hadn’t been able to locate her either; he prayed with everything in him that after she arrived in New York, she found a safe place to retreat, far away from the turmoil that was unraveling around him. 

“OH! What about this one?” Maxwell exclaimed, as he sat next to Drake and scrolled through an online catalog of outfits for an upcoming gala.  

Drake rolled his eyes. “Please stop showing me this crap. S’long as you wear something, I don’t really give a shit what you show up in.” 

“What are you going to wear?”

“Clothes, most likely.”

“Clothes, most likely.” Maxwell mocked under his breath. 

“What was that?” Drake snapped. 

“Nothing! Oh, this has a matching one! Look! Ohmygosh we could match! Twins!” Maxwell exclaimed as he once again shoved his phone in Drake’s face. 

Drake grimaced at the sight before him. It was a set of bright blue ocean wave suits, complete with a bright orange squid bow tie. “God, no. Not even if you paid me.” He replied as he shook his head. 

“Oh, come on, Walker. You can be a sea creature instead of one who drags his knuckles on the ground.” Olivia added with a smirk. 

Drake flipped her off. “Fuck. You.” 

Olivia snickered. “I’d rather take a lava bath, but thanks.” 

“I’ll see if Bertrand will match me,” Maxwell said with a mischievous grin. 

“Good luck with that, Beaumont,” Drake answered. 

“It could go better than you think, honestly. He’s been super nice to me ever since we told him about all this stuff with Riley. I miiiiight be able to get him to do it.” 

“I’m taking pictures if it happens, hands down,” Drake chuckled. 

Olivia subtly rolled her eyes. “Stay away from me, regardless of what you wear. You too, Walker.” 

“Way ahead of you there, Ice Duchess.” 

Liam stayed quiet; although he still held rage with Bertrand and his tasteless actions, he hadn’t given his status as Duke much thought. Although it had not left his mind, for now, especially for Maxwell’s sake, he was keeping his inner thoughts to himself. 

A knock interrupted them from their uplifted moment. Liam stood and granted them entrance, and Bastien appeared with a bow. “Your Majesty, I was hoping to give you an update on the homicide.” 

“Of course.” 

“We have no clear suspects. However, we discovered a murder weapon.”

Olivia’s ears perked up from her seat, and Liam’s eyes widened. “You did?” 

“Yes, sir. We found it in the woods near the area, and I sent it off for analysis. It was a black knife with gold trimmings; I believe it to be the same one used in the earlier ceremony that night.” Bastien held out a folder to Liam, who accepted it and started looking through it immediately.  

The picture at the start revealed the murder weapon, which was the same knife used to cut the apple with Madeleine, but covered in blood from the tip to the hilt. He flipped further and felt his stomach churn at the images of the crime scene. The first few photos were of the maid’s face and he could recognize her, but barely. As he proceeded, he suddenly pulled the file away from his face with a grimace as he saw the cause of death photographed.

“I apologize, sir. I should have given you a warning beforehand.” 

Liam swallowed thickly and with a deep breath resumed, but a tad more prepared for the sight this time. “My God…” He gasped. “What – How – I –” He stammered before closing his mouth with a shake of his head.  

“We still don’t know a lot, sir, as it’s still the early stages of investigating. But we are working around the clock to ensure we receive a solution promptly. Obviously, we’re certain the cause of death was the wound in the jugular, however, we have sent the body for analysis as well. When I spoke with the other staff, they recalled seeing her earlier in the day, but her whereabouts past three p.m. are unknown.” 

“Is that everything?” 

“For now, yes. I will let you know something else as soon as I know.” 

Liam resumed his venture through the folder and furrowed his brows at some of the random items photographed as evidence; the things Olivia noted were present, as well as what appeared to be a cap for a tube of lipstick with a clear set of fingerprints. Of course, the suspect could have dropped the item, but it seemed conveniently placed within the other markers. The only thing that implied relevance was a bloodied shoe print. He could tell it was a woman’s, as the base was short and narrow, not to mention the pinpoint of a heel. However, it was still an odd discovery given that there appeared to be no other signs of blood anywhere else except on the body itself. “Bastien, are you questioning the legitimacy of this crime scene? At all? I see multiple red flags here just at first glance.”  

“We found a few things out of the ordinary, but I have sent everything for analysis. I’m confident either way, the forensics will produce some kind of answer.”

Liam nodded, sufficed by his response. “Have you looked for Riley? Or Tariq?” 

“I have attempted but have found no new leads. However, I am still continuing even with arrangements for the tour and the homicide investigation. I am doing everything in my power to provide you with some answers.” 

“Thank you, Bastien. Just… keep me updated…” Bastien nodded and bowed before he exited. As he did, Liam stood staring blankly at the door behind him, his mind a jumbled mess of chaos that seemed to only get worse by the day. 

Drake cautiously approached Liam. “You alright, man?” 

Liam laughed sardonically. “No, Drake, I’m not… How am I just supposed to wait? How long is it going to take Bastien to find something?”

“I’m not sure, but what else can we do?” 

Liam ran a hand down his face and let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. If I did, we’d be doing it.” He snapped, but immediately caught himself and retracted. “Sorry, Drake. I’m just…” 

“Na, it’s cool. I get it. I wish there was something we could do, but… it sounds like we’re just waiting until Bastien can get those reports back.” 

“Goddamnit,” Liam growled as he slammed his fist down on the desk he stood beside. “I– I can’t just sit here and wait. I need to do something now."

“Perhaps we should seek outside help,” Olivia interjected. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I have an acquaintance who is somewhat of a… ‘private investigator’. He’s not cheap, but he’s worth every penny. He can look into Riley and Tariq’s locations, for sure, as well as whatever else you may see fit…” 

“I’m not against the idea… but how would that even work?” 

“We can figure out the details later, but I have somewhat of a cover already thought of. I can easily say he’s my driver, or bodyguard, or anything, really. Who’s going to question me? Honestly?” 

“Much as I hate to admit it, maybe she’s onto something, Li,” Drake interjected with a sour face. “Bas clearly has his hands full, and I know you wanna get some kind of answer.”

“See? Even the cave dweller agrees!” Olivia exclaimed, earning her a middle finger from Drake. “Plus, perhaps having another set of capable eyes around will do us some good.”

“I want to agree, I really do. It’s just… the last person to get involved with this was… well, you know. Do we really want to put someone else in danger like that?”

Olivia snickered. “It’s cute of you to worry, but he’s more than capable of defending himself.” 

“I don’t know…”

“Do it, Liam! DO IT! Or I will myself!” Maxwell exclaimed. 

“No offense, but how are you gonna pay him?” Drake asked. 

“Perhaps he would be interested in a one-on-one interpretive dance class; we could trade one service for another.”

“Hate to break it to you, but your dance class ain’t worth shit.” 

Olivia rolled her eyes but approached Liam and blocked Maxwell and Drake from view, forcing him to focus on her. Of course, her top priority was ensuring Riley’s safety, but in addition, she had her own questions regarding her blackmail. She would help Liam with anything, but this was more than merely a favor; it was personal. However, Bastien’s competency was undoubtedly questionable in Olivia’s mind. She couldn’t rule him out as a suspect, but she didn’t exactly have something concrete to tie him to anything. For the time being, she needed a second set of capable hands.

“Liam, we have to act on this now. Whoever did this is actively covering their tracks. If we don’t do something, we may never figure this out.” Olivia pleaded.

Liam swallowed thickly and kept his gaze trained on the floor. “I know…” 

“So, let my associate come and assist us. If he doesn’t provide answers, I’ll pay his service fees out of pocket. But of course, I’ll be working alongside him.” 

“I trust you, Olivia, I do. However, I’m worried that putting another person into the equation may end up biting us in the ass in the long run.” 

“I understand, but again, he’s highly trained and knows what he’s doing. All we have to do is keep his cover intact until we can locate one of them. We can’t tip the mastermind off and give them an opportunity to bury this deeper. As long as everyone in this room keeps their mouth shut about his true purpose, we should have no issues.” 

Liam looked away with a heavy sigh; although he remained hesitant to add another person to this mess, the thought of getting any kind of answer outweighed any con he could think of. And, he trusted Olivia to steer him correctly. He finally said, “Okay, do it...” 

“I already did, Liam. He’ll be in the country this evening, hopefully,” Olivia smirked. “Now, we need to address the next order of business…” she trailed off as she approached the window and stared out. “Whoever did this killed that maid to send us a message; I think we need to send one back.”

Liam’s jaw fell open. “What?! Why would you think that, Olivia? We–”

Olivia held her hand up to stop him. “Let me finish; we need to send a message while doing ourselves a favor. The tour leaves for Italy in four days, but that can not happen, Liam.” 

Liam furrowed his brows. “You want me to cancel the tour?” 

“No, I want you to rebuild it to stay in the country. Think about it; you’re technically still going along with their plans, but perhaps throwing a wrench into them. You’re showing that you’re willing to play along for now, but you won’t back down entirely like they assume you’ll do.” 

Liam shook his head. “I don’t think that’s smart, Olivia. We don’t know what they’re capable of or what lengths they’ll go to.” 

“I’m aware of that, but it’s not like you’re canceling everything; you’re simply rerouting, so to speak. The results will still be the same; you’ll ‘marry Madeleine.’ How you get there shouldn’t matter.”

“Isn’t that suspicious? To suddenly keep the tour within the country?”

“It would be, but I thought ahead and I think I have a decent proposal laid out.” Olivia produced a file and handed it to Liam. “How are we going to figure this out internationally? We have to stay here…”

Liam opened the folder and saw a detailed explanation for the sudden changes, as well as a list of future events to be held within the duchies. “Wow,” He responded with wide eyes. “This – this is convincing, and you’ve practically already planned everything… When did you have time for all this?”  

“Last night. I wanted to come and find you right after Walker and I left the crime scene, but I assumed my plan would get a stronger reaction if I laid it out for you. All you have to do is make the calls…”

“I think it’s a solid move, Li,” Drake interjected. “You’re standing your ground but yet still giving the appearance that you’re moving forward for the ‘greater good of Cordonia.’ I’ll help you take care of anything you need help with, or try to at least. But she’s right; we won’t find any more information about what happened to Brooks globe-trotting.” 

“Trust me, I don’t want to leave, but we already set these events! What am I supposed to do to–” 

“You need to pull your head out of your ass, Liam.” Olivia interrupted. “You’re the King and I think this would be a lot easier if you’d start acting like it.” She saw Liam contemplating her statement and stepped closer to him with narrowed eyes. “It’s time you put your fucking Crown on and show these assholes that you won’t back down. What’s really important to you here, Liam? Do you want to figure this out, or are you going to let them use your duty to control you – again? I lay the plan out for you and when my associate joins us, we are that much more prepared if they were to strike back, but we can’t pussyfoot around anymore. You wanted to do something now, so do it.” 

Liam stared at her for a long moment as her words echoed in his mind and a newfound determination took over him. His nostrils flared as his hands balled into fists at his sides. The bright blue orbs that were previously dimmed seemed to darken even further. Olivia was right; this was his country, his call, and the ball was now in his court.

Liam never said a word, but soon marched over to the desk and picked up the phone. He listened intently until someone answered the other end of the line. “Buonasera, Francesco. I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our pre-scheduled festivities...” 

Liam, Drake, and Maxwell worked the rest of the day and into the evening to cancel all the tour’s events, and were well on their way to planning what Olivia had mapped out. With the newly produced schedule, they would have much more time to focus on their investigation while still keeping the same number of events as before.

Liam’s determination in his decision stood firm, however, he couldn’t deny feeling apprehensive as well. He was sure there would be retaliation in some form and was unsure as to just how far they would go. However, the power he felt at that moment was something he wasn’t used to. Since his ascension, he’d signed treaties and other small documents, but this was the first time he was going to assert his authority in such a large capacity. Adrenaline ran through his veins and for the first time, he felt like a King. 

The door to the study was suddenly flung open without warning, startling everyone inside. Madeleine marched into the room with a red face. “What the hell, Liam?!” Constantine trailed not far behind her, although his expression was one more of confusion than anger. 

“Ah, I take it you’ve learned of our changes?”

“There will be no changes! We’ve had this planned for weeks! We’re not canceling within a few days–”

“I already did.”

The color drained from Madeleine’s face. “No, you didn’t.” 

Liam indignantly laughed. “Oh, I sure did.” 

Madeleine’s cheeks heated further, nearly purple. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Constantine put a gentle hand on Madeleine’s shoulder. “Language.” He scolded. Madeleine stepped back with her arms crossed over her chest. “Liam, I want to believe you’re not doing all of this for an irrational reason.”

“I’m simply doing what’s best for Cordonia.” Liam shrugged. 

Madeleine scoffed and shook her head. "Unbelievable! Have you completely lost your mind? How is this what’s best for anyone?!” 

Constantine turned and gave her a warning glance. “Although I do not agree with her delivery, I echo Countess Madeleine’s question.” 

“First off, explain to me how an international tour is beneficial to Cordonia at this current moment. The only event that even made a difference was the charity banquet in Paris; the rest of it was just a bunch of bullshit. This way, we can rally our people behind us.” 

“It was for publicity, Liam!” Madeleine exasperated. “We need to worry about our international standings, which are going to be shit now that you’ve–” 

“Our key priority is the Cordonian people. My father pointed out to me that the citizens doubt our union already, and I can’t say I blame them. It isn’t a secret that you weren't my first choice, not even the second.” Liam had to hide his smile as he stood from his seat and crossed the room to stand in front of Madeleine. 

He forced the softest tone he could when he spoke again. “I want to do everything I can to ensure this works. I know I haven’t done my part, but this is my first step in making amends. Although the international publicity would be good, we need our homeland’s support more. We can enlist in media coverage so we can still get the word out, but Madeleine, we need to stay here. Cordonia needs us right now; Cordonia needs to see its future leaders united. We have to show them we are going to lead them together.” He swallowed down the lump of bile in his throat. 

Constantine observed Liam’s body language during their interaction. Never had he seen him so confident about a decision; he looked regal, authoritative, not a hint of doubt to be present. Liam made undeniable points, and he had preached to both of them to do more to keep the people's faith in their union. However, he couldn’t help but feel like Liam could have ulterior motives for the sudden change. 

Constantine arched his brow. “That’s why you’re doing this?” 

“Yes, father. I just want to ensure the right people are supporting us. We need strength internally. I’ve adapted all the best traditions into our stops along the tour to honor those who have come before us. And, well–” Liam sighed and looked away. “I need to show the Cordonian people I am in the right mind to lead them. They’ve questioned me since my coronation. I have to show them I can do this… I can’t do that from Italy or Paris...” 

Constantine eyed Liam sternly for a long moment. Throughout his life, he could force Liam to break with only a glance. It never worked on Leo, but Liam always cracked under the pressure if he was hiding something. However, Liam showed no signs of hesitation and there were no slips in his facade. He looked regal, poised, composed, calm, and firm, with just a hint of vulnerability. Since he passed the signet ring to Liam, he was practically begging him to get his head together, and the man standing in front of him appeared to be doing just that.  

Liam knew exactly what Constantine was doing as soon as his brow arched. It’s the same glare that had gotten him into trouble multiple times growing up and he expected to endure the stare as soon as he told his father the news. It took all of his restraint, but he never let his carefully placed expression stray from his features. He silently prayed Constantine couldn’t notice the sweat profusely forming in his palms, though. 

After a long moment, Constantine’s face broke out into a small smile. He stepped forward and patted Liam on the shoulder. “I believe this is an excellent idea, son. You have my full support.” 

Liam had to fight hard to hide his surprise. He expected more of a fight from Constantine, but perhaps Olivia provided the perfect excuse. He slightly bowed and said, “Thank you, father.” 

“Let me know if you require any support in the plans.”

“Thank you, but we’re nearly finished.” Liam turned to Madeleine, who stood with her arms still crossed over her chest. “What do you say, Madeleine? You’re free to look over the arrangements if you’d like. We’ve left your bachelorette party on the same day as before, but the location is open to the entire country… Just say the word and I'll have the jet prepared...” 

Madeleine rolled her eyes. “I don’t get why you want to cancel an international tour so we can go to the same old duchies–” 

“Countess, your King made his wishes known and his reasons are relevant. Do you wish for the people to doubt your reign as Queen?” Constantine asked with his hands clasped behind his back. “Perhaps after the coronation fiasco this would have been the best solution, anyway.”

“Fine, we can proceed with your new plans.” Madeleine finally relented. “But there had better be media coverage, Liam.” 

Liam fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he nodded. “You have my word.” 

Constantine smiled and put a hand on both of their shoulders. “I’m proud of both of you. You’re going to change the course of Cordonian history, the two of you. Have you prepared a statement, son?”

“I’m working on it,” Liam answered. “Would you like to be present with me, Madeleine? Perhaps it would be better if we announce the changes together.” 

Before Madeleine could respond, Constantine did so for her. “Yes, that’s a splendid plan. Do use urgency so we may stay on track. Be sure to extend invitations to our international counterparts who we expected to see along the tour, though.”

Liam nodded, and Constantine exited with Madeleine at his side, who trampled away with heavy footsteps. Drake audibly gagged as soon as the door closed behind them. “That was hard to watch.”

Liam shuddered. “Tell me about it. Do you think they bought it?” 

“I think so,” Maxwell answered. “Your dad seemed really into the idea, honestly… and as long as it’s heavily publicized, Madeleine will be happy.” 

Liam rubbed his hands together. “Right… Right… You’re right…”

“Calm down, Li. You did good.” Drake patted him on the back. “They bought it and I think you made a smart move by enlisting Maddy to make the statement with you.”

“I agree. It’s showing the mastermind that although I’m changing things up, Madeleine is on board. That’s who they’re concerned about, anyway... I’m hoping that having her support on this will work to our advantage.” 

“Damn straight. Now, we gotta hurry and throw all this bullshit together so you can get your statement out there.” 

A few hours later, Olivia was on her way to meet with her contact on the outskirts of the city limits. Her acquaintance was someone she worked with in the past and trusted to assist them. He helped her look into the source of her own blackmail after she hit a wall. Olivia only traced it back to three different middlemen; had it not been for her associate’s aid, she never would’ve found the others. He didn't classify himself as an investigator, spy, or hacker; simply a jack of all trades. His skill set and knowledge were insurmountable, and Olivia knew he would be a worthy asset. 

Olivia pulled up to an empty parking lot aside from one other vehicle. A tall man in a black leather jacket stepped out and adjusted his shirt underneath as he did so. He took off his sunglasses and leaned against the side of the car. She exited her own SUV and made her way over, all the while looking around to ensure they were alone. 

“Thank you for meeting with me, Ray. I have a job for you.” Olivia cautiously spoke as she reached him. 

Ray smiled and bowed to her. “What can I do for you, Duchess?” 

“I need you to look into the whereabouts of two people. The first is Tariq, second Riley Brooks.” 

Ray nodded. “I was wondering if you were going to seek help there.” Olivia’s brows furrowed, causing Ray to chuckle. “Please, anyone could tell those photos were fakes or set up. It seems likely that the one who leaked the story is the same person who blackmailed you.”

“It’s not just the story, Ray. We think someone removed her from the situation. We found this–” Olivia produced the trash bag with Riley’s contaminated dress and held it out to Ray, who took it and glanced at the contents. “–inside a shed, along with all of Riley’s other belongings.”

“A shed?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Ray gave her an unsure expression. “I don’t like that, Olivia. That instantly gave me an unsettled feeling. There’s a reason her stuff is there.” 

“Trust me, I know...” 

Ray once again looked inside the bag. “You haven’t sent this off anywhere? To check the DNA?” 

“I intended to, but then I was called to a homicide for the only solid lead we’ve had regarding Riley.” Ray didn’t even try to hide his shock, which caused Olivia to chuckle. “Yeah, tell me about it. Obviously, we’re thinking it’s all connected, but…” 

Ray noticed Olivia’s hesitant expression and inquired, “What?” 

Olivia sighed and explained to Ray all the things she observed the night of the maid’s murder. When she finished, she added, “I was going to have Bastien send that dress off to forensics, but after his futile behavior, I don’t think I want him near it. He’d probably fuck around and lose it or something.” She rolled her eyes. 

“I can have it sent to the lab I use if you’d like. If I tell them it’s a stat order, I should only have to wait a few days.” 

Olivia nodded. “Yes, do that.”

“You got it. Now, have there been any leads into either of your missing persons?” 

“All Bastien has found is that Riley landed in New York the morning after the jamboree.”

“Nothing on Tariq?” Olivia shook her head. “Hmm… I find it odd that there would be no trace of him.” 

“I can confirm on my end I found the same result when I searched.” 

“I’ll begin at once. And you want me to travel with you?”

“Just for now. If we’re correct once the news breaks of the tour’s new destinations, there may be retaliation. I’m not sure what that could look like at this point and I need more people around who can properly assess situations. Honestly, finding Riley’s dress and leaving it opened my eyes to the fact that we’re all emotionally involved in this. There’s no reason for it to have sat in there a second longer once we found it, but we were all so stunned nobody was thinking. I hate to admit it, but even myself included.” 

“I can see why; it’s a lot of information to learn at once and not a lot of it makes any sense from where I’m standing. But I agree that having someone with a firm and clear mindset could benefit you.”

“I’m counting on it.” Olivia handed him a thick folder. “Here is your dossier to cover you throughout the tour. You are now Harold Marshowitz, my new bodyguard. Alternative forms of identifications are in there as well as any security clearance you may need.” 

“Got it.” 

“Great, let’s get moving.” 

“Wait–” Ray stopped her. “While we’re free to speak openly, I wanted to bring forth another potential lead I see…” 

Olivia arched her brow. “I’m listening…” 

“Have you looked into that article? At all?” 

“What do you mean?”

“It had to come from somewhere; it didn’t just appear. Not only did someone have to take those photos, but there was a story attached to it. Someone concocted that; I’m unsure if it’ll be the same person, or…” 

Olivia shook her head as frustration washed over her. “No, I hadn’t even thought about that…” 

“As you said, you’re all emotionally involved in this. I’m not, so I can see things a little more clearly…” Ray trailed off, then hesitantly spoke. “I’m, uh – a little surprised that the guard didn’t think of that.” 

“Bastien is an idiot, but something about his demeanor lately has struck me as off… I don’t know if he’s developing dementia, or if it’s something deeper…”

“All the more reason to have me around,” Ray smirked. 

“Is that something you can look into? The article?”

Ray flashed her a cocky smile and straightened his jacket. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” 

Olivia rolled her eyes. “I’m trusting you, Ray. I need you to come through for me.” 

Ray placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “All jokes aside, this is what I live for, Olivia. I love sinking my teeth into a juicy mystery. I will find them, you have my word.”

Out of sight, a figure was lurking in the shadows not far away, intently watching and listening to the meeting. As Olivia and Ray vacated the area together, the peeper clenched their jaw and repetitively punched the tree they stood beside. After removing their surveillance equipment and slamming it to the ground, they started vigorously pacing.

Everyone assumed Liam could start asking questions, but his duty and broken heart were supposed to keep him blinded. The expected time for his inquiries was long after the wedding when the job would be fully completed. However, Liam and his collective group of friends were making progress in their search and had uncovered too much in a short period; not everything, but it wouldn’t be that hard to find the rest of those answers, especially now that he brought on a competent professional to help. Considering how early it was in the tour, the possibility of him figuring it out suddenly skyrocketed. 

As a result, the entire operation was in more danger than ever before; that was not an option for anyone involved. They served the deception all around; if the mission was uncovered, multiple people would go down for it, and they would face the wrath of more than the current monarch. 

It wasn’t hard to guess where their investigation would lead them next, and that meant another loose end just identified itself. The unknown person brought out their phone to make a call, which was answered on the first ring. “We have a tremendous problem…”

Tags (let me know if you'd like added or removed): @choicesficwriterscreations @ao719 @txemrn @imashybish @queenrileyrose

@kingliam2019 @riseandshinelittleblossom @dcbbw @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight

@amandablink @cordonia-gothqueen @sfb123 @jared2612 @harleybeaumont

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#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #king liam #liam rys #trr #choices trr #trr au #choices #liam x riley #ghosted #trr fanfic #trr fandom #drake walker #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #choices fic writers creations

[sbbarnes]

Hockey Romances. Why?

So I was taken out of work a couple weeks ago due to ~pregnancy stuff~ (mostly just stress, the baby and I are fine) which has left me with a lot of spare time on my hands. And as one does, I have been filling my time reading lgbtq+ romance novels. Because I can.

In this time, I have fallen headfirst into the hockey romance novel subgenre, and I ask myself, as I have done every time I see these books advertised, why? I am not a sports fan. One time, my husband was watching football (European), and a team in red kits was playing against yellow kits, and I started laughing because "it looks like ketchup is playing against mustard". His expression was great, but he hasn't taken me seriously since.

So why is hockey of all things such a draw for the mlm romance subgenre? Especially given the NHL's apparent fear of rainbow tape? Why do I now know what the word "celly" refers to and what an "enforcer" is? Why why why?

Here are my answers:

Extremely organic way to set up some of the most classic romance tropes. Forced proximity? Being on the same team takes care of that. There was only one bed? Shared hotel rooms during away games. Enemies to lovers? Rival teams.

Lots of potential for drama given that players lead very transient lives in terms of the constant possibility of trades. In mlm love stories, even more so given that the NHL is so blatantly homophobic.

Perfect level of fame. Fame and wealth as a draw for a love interest are kind of staples of the genre, and NHL players are famous, sure, but not all of them, and they aren't as famous as football stars (either kind of football). They are still filthy rich, which makes great wish fulfillment. You can have the sexy penthouse and the anonymity.

I would go on to talk about how different roles on the team lend themselves to different tropes (goalie = tightly controlled dude who needs someone to help him cut loose; enforcer = misunderstood fighter with a heart of gold; coach for all your forbidden love/sleeping with the boss desires) but that would very quickly reveal my utter lack of hockey knowledge, so let's not. Instead, here's a quick reclist.

Rachel Reid's Game Changers series. It's a classic in the genre for a reason and it has everything. Forbidden love? Got that, maybe the definitive example. Redemption arc? Got that. Misunderstood bruiser with a heart of gold? Got that. Age difference? Got that. Also really excellent sex scenes, not gonna lie, and satisfying endings throughout - sometimes a happy end will come a little suddenly for me, but these books really delivered, and the nice thing about how romance series are structured is that you get a little peek at what comes after for the couples in the other books.

2. Him, Us and Epic by Sarina Bowen and Elle Kennedy. This one surprised me, I don't generally go for first person POVs, but I did enjoy this! Coming-of-age story turned coming out story featuring a budding hockey star and his best friend. Lots of fun.

3. Scoring Chances series by Avon Gale. This series is fun in that it doesn't focus on the NHL, it actually focuses on the minor leagues in the southeast of the US, a place almost no one associates with ice hockey. As such, there's a chance to tell different stories about professional athletes who aren't super rich and famous, which I appreciate a lot. TBH the first pairing wasn't entirely my cup of tea, but I'm glad I kept going because I especially enjoyed the later books, which tackle tough topics (including eating disorders, abuse etc., so content warning for that). These are still romance novels though, so rest assured that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. What I especially appreciate is that these books don't have relationship drama, in that the main couples communicate and work together instead of a third act break-up-make-up!

4. Hockey Ever After series by Ashlyn Kane and Morgan James. These are just great. Lots of fun to read, lots of cameos from character in later books, just excellent mood all around. Also features my favorite ever trope (secret relationship, sorry, anyone who knows me knows I am a sucker for it I just can't help myself) heavily, which is a win in my book. I especially enjoyed book two, "Scoring Position". Is that because Nico is German and I loved him? Is that because Ryan is my new blorbo? We may never know.

Happy reading and please give me recommendations for more books like these, I'm lowkey obsessed.

#lgbtq books #book review #lgbtq romance #mlm romance #hockey #hockey romance #mlm hockey romance #ashlyn kane #morgan james #winging it #sarina bowen #elle kennedy #scoring chances #avon gale #rachel reid #game changers #heated rivalry #tough guy #common goal #role model #breakaway #coach's challenge #empty net #power play #save of the game #scoring position #unrivaled

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Kerosene

Billy Butcher Masterlist

Summary: Ever since Becca died, it’s like that. Insults. Name calling. Anger is everything you have left and the one in control of the wheel of your emotions. It’s easier to just yell at each other than facing the truth... You and Billy share the same burning pain.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x F!Reader

Word Count: 2583

Warning: Grief, anger due to the grief, angst, feels, panic attack, past character death, talk of grief and pain

A/n: This was requested by an anon! Thanks for the request, and sorry it took so long!

Her death left more than one person in mourning.

Twice he lost her. The first time, he spent years stuck in his own, personal jail. Anger was the metal bars and as long as he didn't avenge her, he would remain a prisoner of his rage.

And then, he learned she wasn’t dead. Becca was still there, she just left without telling him. And he forgave her. He would forgive her everything if he could. She ran away to protect this half-superhero child she got from rape. The child that stole everything she had. Her freedom. Her happiness. By only existing.

It was more difficult to forgive.

Butcher had many flaws, he would never hide it. He was by no means perfect. Vain, selfish, manipulative too, ready to do anything to get what he wanted… Including making a pact with the enemy if it was to have Becca all to himself. Miraculously, before doing the worst, he had redeemed himself and decided to help Ryan, not get rid of him by handing him over to Vought and the monster that was his father.

It was because of that decision he thought was the best… That he lost her a second time.

Becca's death left more than one person in mourning.

Billy Butcher, her husband she left behind to protect her son, pretending to be dead. He just got her back when she got snatched away from him, for good.

Ryan, her own son. Condemned to live in hiding. His mother died because of him. His father was a superhero, the worst of his race. Inhabited by regret and the fear of being found, he had to keep on living with a stranger, hating himself for what he had done and what he was.

And finally, there was you. Y/n. Becca's childhood friend. As far as you could remember, you've always been friends. There wasn't a day that went by without you at least calling her and you would talk on the phone for hours.

She was more than a friend, she was your family. The person you went to see when you weren't feeling well. The one you called first to announce good news. The one you were not afraid to ask for help and cry in her arms.

When she disappeared, only two people never gave up the search. Butcher and you. When she died, many people ended up with grief that was impossible to heal. And that included you and Butcher, again.

Between you and Billy, it was never all pink and joy. You were Becca’s best friend and he was her husband, she was the common thing that was linking you together. Even if, at first, you were wary of the man and his violent past, you learned to like him with time. 

But even with that relationship, it didn’t help when Becca was gone. It only made everything worse.

Initially, Butcher tried to hide what he was doing from you. But obviously, your best friend's husband who suddenly disappears to come back completely changed, with rage in his heart and gun in his hand, aroused a curiosity in you, and you discovered everything about The Boys' initiative. Billy refused your presence, but Mallory wasn’t against another asset in the team.

There was a lot of bloodshed whenever he went. Butcher had always been a violent man, so he never had a problem with collateral damage or the pile of corpses he left behind. Becca had the power to appease the beast in him. So when she wasn't there for him anymore…

All that was left was anger. Burning at the slightest spark, ready to explode and spread as quickly as a wildfire.

There was a similar anger in you. But in addition to the fire, there was the accelerant present in your veins, your blood like kerosene igniting at the slightest collision. And Butcher's impassiveness in front of your own pain didn't help put out the inferno. 

“You stupid fucking asshole! What was that? Bringing a fucking gun to a supe’s fight!”

"Oh, because you think you can beat 'em with your fists only, luv?" 

“Don't call me love, you ungrateful asshole!”

“Getting out the big words eh, feeling bettar?”

It was already a problem before he found Becca alive. But now that she was gone for good, that he held her body in his arms while she gave her last breath, that he watched the light leave her eyes… and that he had to walk away without getting his revenge, with the child he could no longer despise as he had promised her…

Since that day, it was worse. It was much easier to let out the anger on the closest person and receive their rage in return than to come to terms with the emotions that were building up. Emotions that were so real, so sharp, their mere existence could cut and sliced ​​anything. The pain was bleeding from every pore of his skin. His legs held him up only because of the anger he threw at her and received in return.

Ever since Becca died, you've been venting on the person who's been in the same pain as yours. The one who could understand the most how you felt, and yet, didn't even seem to realize it. And in return, you greeted Butcher's words, insults, and screams like a slap in the face, hoping the physical pain of his words could bury the sly pain of mourning.

The denial was still there, but it was buried under the anger.

“You don't understand anything!”

Again, the words flew out quickly. The team just got back from a mission that could have ended very badly if Kimiko hadn't taken the damage, saving Butcher from a death that the compound V coursing through her veins spared her. In a sense, the mission had ended well. But under your skin was agony. Your muscles were in turmoil, pressing against your skeleton, your whole body suffering from this anger that could not come out.

“What should I understand, sweetheart? You like it, shouting at meh the moment you can. Is there something missing from your oh so perfect life, eh? Daddy didn't give you all yeh wanted? You have to step on my fucking feet as well?”

It had almost become a habit. Returning from a mission, or a simple round trip to the supermarket, no matter what you did, if you did it with Butcher, it always ended badly. So, as soon as the mission was over and Kimiko healed from her injury, everyone went their own way. Which left you with Billy.

“Fuck you, Butcher! I fucking hate you!!”

It wasn't the best idea to live in the loft that served as the Boys' headquarters, as that was where Butcher spent most of his time. It was very difficult to avoid him, although lately he was very good at disguising himself as a gust of wind when you entered a room.

“Then why the fuck are yeh stayin!” He shouted back, hands splayed to either side of his body. The only light bulb in the room emanated a soft, warm light on his features, the night was engulfing the rest in darkness. It was hard to make out the expression Butcher had on as he asked you that question, but you knew him too well to know exactly the kind of half amused, half mad smile he had. A grin he used as a mask to hide his emotions.

“For her!!” You ended up screaming. Your voice broke at the end of your sentence, and the silence that followed engulfed everything, even your rapid breathing. “You fucking selfish bastard, I lost her too! She wasn't only your Becca, she was my every-” A sob swallowed your voice and you clapped a hand over your mouth. Shit, Butcher saw you in that vulnerable state. As your breath got lost in your poorly functioning lungs, you realized the obvious. 

Anger served as a mask for you too. A mask to hide your true feelings and your pain. But also as an oxygen mask. Without it, even the air was leaking from you, like your lungs were compressing impossibly more each time you tried to breathe.

"Y/n-"

"No-" you hoisted between your teeth, raising your hand to signal Billy to stay where he was. “I can't- I can't do this a-anymore, I can't-” before he could see the tears rolling down your cheeks, you spun around and walked towards the exit.

The cold air outside had a fleeting effect. 

Once out of the building, you stopped near the door, still gasping for breath. The pain was like a vise compressing your ribcage, your ribs forming a prison around your lungs. You forced a breath through your system, the cold November night air searing your esophagus. The first breath passed, reached your lungs and you thought you were out of trouble. However, the second remained stuck in your throat, the fucking ball you always had stuck in there blocking the access. You swallowed, swore, hit the wall of the building again and again like the bricks were this vice you were trying to break.

New tears were added to the frozen ones on your cheeks. Hot and cold covered your skin now, the air getting colder on your body that wasn’t dressed to be outside. Panic then settled in you and you started hitting your chest, until finally, an external force immobilized your gestures.

“Stop it! You're hurting yerself!”

The accent made his words roll. It was one of the things Becca loved most about Butcher, the way he spoke that sometimes made his speech so confusing to understand it was funny. She was the best at understanding him when he purposely mumbled intelligible words.

“Let me go!” You shouted, still having trouble breathing. Not wanting Butcher to see you like this, you took two steps away from him. But this time his arms wrapped around you and held you still. “I said let me go!!” You tried to fight, but Butcher was strong. Way stronger than you.

“No.”

A simple, clear and impossible to misunderstand no. 

“Why the fuck not, why do you fucking care!” 

“Because you're the only one left that knew her.”

His voice was calm, despite the clear struggle he had to hold you. His breathing was rapid, and as you held yours to listen better, you could notice something else. Barely audible sobs shattered his breath into thousands of small pieces, like a mirror he would have shattered with a single hit of his fist.

“You're the only family I have left…” Warmth fell against your shoulder like a dropper. His tears were burning on your skin, they contained a pain he had never let out before. That poison that had been gnawing at him since he lost Becca was falling drop by drop on you, and you absorbed all that pain. Your arms circled his body automatically, your body becoming a blanket for him to take refuge in. Although you were the coldest one right now, Butcher was shivering. “I'm sorry I never took your feelings seriously. You're hurt too, yeh?”

You nodded against his chest, nuzzling your face in the space between his leather coat and his cheap Hawaiian shirt. Closing your eyes, you let his scent invade your senses, bringing you back to a lost memory of the past.

It was a normal day, but yet, it was something special. On that particular morning. The one you woke up in Becca's apartment, on her couch. Butcher could never say no to Becca, so when she asked if you could stay the night, he agreed. After a drunken evening accompanied by a good karaoke where no one was singing the right words, you collapsed on the sofa. The sun piercing between the living room curtains slowly woke you up the next day, but you didn’t want to get up, too comfortable in this space. Like in a bubble, warm, well settled. And then there was this particular smell. Cheap cologne. After-shave. Tea. Chamomile, Orange Pekoe, Earl Grey. The particular smell of old leather. You opened your eyes to notice it wasn't a blanket that kept you warm all night, but something heavier.

Butcher left his leather jacket on you to keep you warm. The guy had hundreds of blankets in his closet, but too drunk, he completely forgot about their existence. So he made do with what he had under his hands.

He thought of you even if your presence didn’t particularly please him.

“Morning sunshine! Is that Billy's coat? That’s where it went!”

Becca's laughter was one of the best memories you had of her. You glanced in her direction, only to be graced by a magnificent sight. The sun was rising behind her, its rays penetrating the room, flooding her frame with a halo that made her look angelic. Her hair was a mess, she only wore an oversize sweater, but you’d never seen her so radiant.

It was crazy how one smell in particular could bring back so many memories. But as you hugged Butcher, outside, during a cold night of November, as you mourned the same person, you smiled. Because for the first time since Becca passed away, you no longer felt alone.

“How about we get inside, yeh? Get a good cup of tea? it's freezing out her'.” 

The smile stayed on your lips as you nodded against his chest.

“Sorry, kinda soaked your shirt,” you apologized as you walked inside with him.

"It's fine," Butcher shrugged, then noticed your expression. "Oh. You're not sorry.”

"Nah," you wiped your cheeks quickly. It was no longer necessary for you to hide your emotions, not with Billy, but it was still a reflex far too ingrained in your veins to get rid of so quickly. “I hate that shirt. I hope it burns.”

At your words, laughter broke out in the empty hallway. It nearly stopped you immediately in your tracks as the cutscene continued in your mind.

Becca standing in front of the living room window, looking like an angel, laughing when she saw you covered in only Butcher's leather jacket.

Another laugh then accompanied Becca's.

“It's not my fault, we were so wasted last night! Anyway, who wants tea?”

“Coffee, you mean coffee, honey.”

Another laugh. “Yeah, sure luv.”

Coming back to yourself and in the present moment, you looked at Butcher. At the same time, the elevator doors opened behind him and its fluorescent light scattered around him. It wasn't as beautiful as the light of the rising sun behind Becca, but there was something magical about it. As if it was meant to be.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Billy asked, offended, looking himself up and down quickly. “Something on my face?”

“Only your dumb face,” you grinned as you entered the elevator.

“Hey! Not nice, I thought we made peace!”

“In your dreams, old man.”

“Mind I kindly remind you, we're almost the same age, luv?”

“Yeah. I know.”

The smile stayed on your face until you got to the right floor. Spending all this time resenting Butcher for your loneliness and grief, you never realized how much energy you put into pushing away the person that could fill your loneliness. It didn't cure the grief or the agonizing pain, like there was a piece missing in you. But it was a start.

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245​​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​​ @eevvvaa​​ @fictional-affairs​​ @wickedinspirations​​ @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @cryptichobbit​

#billy butcher #billy butcher imagine #Billy Butcher x reader #billy butcher fic #the boys #billy butcher the boys #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x y/n #angst #the boys angst #billy butcher angst #billy butcher fluff #the boys hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #billy butcher x f!reader #f!reader #grief #the boys fanfiction #the boys oneshot

[kimkimberhelen]

Gene Cousineau: “Little Sally Reed from Joplin, Missouri. What do you want?”

Sally Reed: “To be an actress … it’s all I ever wanted in the whole world.”

This quick exchange introduces Barry’s audience to Sally (Sarah Goldberg) in the series premiere. Her passionate, teary plea rings normally at first glance; she’s a small-town girl with wide-eyed Hollywood dreams. Aw, shucks. Over four seasons, HBO’s grim comedy ingeniously peels back layers to unveil Sally’s discombobulating, deeply human personality. Her unlikable traits—selfish, gravely insecure, a knack for walking over people (including seemingly naive aspiring actor Barry Block)—remain intact as the show nears its end.

By now, though, we know these qualities stem from a marred past: a rotten home life, previous spousal abuse, and a gnawing lack of confidence she desperately wants to cover up. Barry rarely excuses her entitled behavior but slowly sheds light on how her illusory front is a coping mechanism. No wonder she makes the short-lived Joplin as an outlet to process her tragedies. What’s worse? She barely gets time to exist in the world she creates after working hard to achieve it. As it turns out, Sally is the ultimate portrait of trauma in Bill Hader and Alec Berg’s stellar series, which wraps on May 28.

Sally Reed was probably never going to have a happy ending. It’s not because she prioritizes her lofty career ambitions, pushing away anything that gets in the way. Goldberg plays Sally’s goals with such enthusiasm it usually borders on mania, even when she’s sympathetic. It’s a shame she hasn’t won an Emmy for her wrenching yet funny performance. Remember her season two monologue when Barry (Hader) auditions for Jay Roach? Or her season three “entitled fucking cunt” breakdown in the elevator that Natalie (D’Arcy Carden) shares with the world, leading to her downfall? But the professional blinders Sally’s had on for most of Barry’s run is what limits her in the end.

As if her traumatic history wasn’t enough, her entanglement with Barry Berkman worsens everything. He breezes into her life one fine day, drawn into her safe space, when he catches her rehearsing outside Gene’s (Henry Winkler) studio while on a mission. Barry finds solace in it, attracted to the idea of shedding his skin to inhabit somebody who doesn’t have PTSD or a laundry list of crimes. It’s enough to get him hoping for a fresh start. That’s also what Sally hoped for when she moved to Los Angeles after finally leaving her abusive husband, Sam (Joe Massingill).

Season four delves into why Sally deserved to leave her Joplin jail. Sam isn’t the only reason. Her mother is dismissive, flat-out refusing to believe her ex abused Sally, nor does she care that her daughter’s boyfriend is arrested for murder in L.A. “Big whoop” isn’t exactly the expected maternal reaction, and her nice-guy father doesn’t have anything valuable to add, either. It’s clear from the final season’s early episodes that Sally doesn’t have anyone—anyone except for an imprisoned Barry. Her admittance to him in this season’s “bestest place on earth,” that she feels safest with him, is a devastating reality chec

Hader and Goldberg, sitting feet away, separated by a glass barrier, deliver a potent performance in a scene that sells their toxic attachment. She can write all the one-act plays and TV shows she wants, but Barry’s grievously absorbed her identity just when you (and everyone around her) thought she was free of it. Their confrontation in jail is a turning point for the show’s final installments. Her shaky confession sets Barry’s brain aflame. He teams up with the FBI, makes an enemy out of NoHo Hank (Anthony Carrigan), and escapes prison during a shootout. Ultimately, it launches a new life for the duo in the middle of a barren landscape where they don new identities and shed their skins. Just like the dream, huh?

Barry’s final season jumps eight years ahead with a full picture in episode five, “tricky legacies.” It glimpses into the dreary monotony of Barry and Sally, who go by Clark and Emily now. They shield their child from the real world. It doesn’t mean Sally’s not seething under Emily’s mask. Her pain follows her because she chose to give up the one thing that mattered: her acting dream. Having experienced a shitty upbringing, she passes along the intergenerational trauma to John by parenting similarly to her mom—indifferent, indignant, and inebriated. She doesn’t know where to start nurturing.

It’s not like Barry’s childhood was a prize, so neither of them is good at this, but Sally is on a whole other level. She drops alcohol in his juice to put him to sleep, serves up burnt lunches, and generally wrestles with how to love this human being she gave birth to. In Sally’s expressions, Goldberg displays a tangible aversion to motherhood, a full-bodied disdain for the life they’re responsible for creating. So yes, in a twisted way, she’s a copy of her parent now. It’s a full circle.

Everyone on Barry is haunted by their actions, especially with the time jump, so Sally isn’t an exception, of course. Barry wreaked absolute havoc. Gene lost Janice Moss (Paula Newsome), ruined his legacy, and now reappears to chase fame again. As seen in episode six, “the wizard,” Hank has grown a successful business, but had to kill the love of his life to do it. Fuches’ (Stephen Root) friendship with Barry turns sour as he morphs into the Raven. Yet, Sally’s regression is agonizing because she was a lick away from gaining everything she wanted. Instead, she ponders torturing her network boss, kills a man in self-defense, and runs back home, only for everything to crumble again. All this while witnessing Oscar winner Sian Heder work with her mentee, Kristen (Ellyn Jameson), and watching Natalie soar.

Now, she’s drunk and being tortured (note Hader’s prolific direction in “the wizard”) as a man in a ski mask figure shakes up their trailer home. She’s permanently haunted. Janice’s father has captured her partner, and all she can do is call him repeatedly, begging him to come back. With two episodes of Barry remaining, Sally is left alone in her cage to care for John. Does she head back to her hometown to complete the cycle? Or will she return to the city of dreams to find Barry and maybe accomplish the only thing she wants to be in this world? Either way, Sally might not realize it, but she’s already played the role of a lifetime now. It’s wish fulfillment in the worst and most tragic possible way.

#barry season 4 #barry hbo #sarah goldberg #sally reed #long read but a good read #avclub #hbo #bill hader

[ctrl-alt-cel]

top ten puppyshipping fics?

so thrilled about this ask...unfortunately i cant give you a list of puppyshipping top 10 without taking like 3 months to reread every joukai fic ive ever loved, but i can give you a handful that ive enjoyed recently!!

Second Chance Christmas by Elexcia (30k)

ex-husbands joey and kaiba are forced to spend the holidays together after 3 years of co-parenting and scrupulously avoiding each other. (atticus and alexis are their kids and its the cutest thing ever!!!!) theres a ton of adorable family shenanigans & how much joey and kaiba work together to ensure atticus and alexis have happy childhoods free from their own personal baggage, mixed with the most heartwrenching late-night conversations between joey and kaiba bc despite everything, they still love each other, but they remember the pain it brought them and don't know if they can endure that again. the emotions and uncertainties are so raw oftentimes i will remember a quote from this fic and my heart will ache all over again its so fcking good!!! its been on my mind ever since i read it!!!

Meeting upon the threshold by Alecto (2.6k)

"kaiba has always been his own worst enemy" -- dsod!kaiba's dimension hopping lands him in an alternate timeline and face-to-face with a version of himself he doesn't recognize. this will always be the quintessential puppyshipping fic to me omg.. the amount of characterization covered in the brief interactions the two kaibas have is spectacular, and its so cool seeing just how different dsod!kaiba's dimension is compared to a dimension where kaiba chooses jounouchi instead. hell yeah

Double Date by thegraeyone (7.2k)

GOD this fic is so funny. kaiba tries so hard to have one normal, business-related work dinner with pegasus, but pegasus is more interested in having a double date between kaiba and his boyfriend joey + pegasus with his boyfriend bandit keith, and like, what else can kaiba do? for the sake of his company, he needs to play along with the most disasterous dinner date of his life if he wants pegasus to sign a damn contract already..!!!! the comedic potential for this specific set of characters makes me lose my mind & theres so many sweet moments within the fic too. i love it so much

Most Thrilling by Alecto (1.8k)

another funny fic! a cute moment with joey visiting his boyfriend kaiba during a lunch break, and silly conversations on how kaiba really does play to win. i love the brand of slight unhinged-ness kaiba has here in regards to jou omg... kaiba is intense when it comes to everything, of course that would include his dating life😭 & i adore how he manages to come across as infuriatingly romantic in his own type of way

The Weight of Water by phant0m (2.2k)

a gentle character piece, jounouchi has just moved out from the apartment he shares with his father, and for all the newfound freedom it should entail, he feels guilty about it more than anything. thankfully his boyfriend kaiba is there to stand by him. it's a kind look into the more somber parts of jou's character and i love the scene it sets :( oh my god jou and kaiba love each other so much..!!! *dies*

Shards by jirluven (2.9k)

more hurt/comfort >:) jounouchi flinches. kaiba isn't supposed to know what it means, its one of the unbroachable topics of their close yet purposely ambiguous relationship, but they both know each other far too well for that. i really enjoy how kaiba's perspective is written, with how he's most comfortable when he's logic-ing things out and surrounded by things he can easily categorize, but hes long given up on trying to categorize jounouchi, and its most evident when pushing himself into the unfamiliar territory of tactfully trying to comfort someone he cares about

Debt to Society by Elexcia (16k)

tech acquisitions lawyer seto kaiba is sentenced to 200 hours of community service after a barfight with rival lawyer & long-time nuisance ziegfried von schroder. to meet those hours, he's assigned to represent children in court as their legal advocate with social worker joey wheeler acting as his supervisor >:) (also featuring judge yugi & the doma arc kids!!) i think this setup is genius omg. with kaiba acting as a protector for underrepresented and vulnerable kids, of course his own personal (and messy) feelings are going to get involved whether he likes it or not!!! plus i love fics where jou and kaiba are colleagues working towards the same goal and moments where kaiba has to trust in and respect joey's skills. and i cant lie. seeing a worldly joey who's good with kids is an absolute treat

Lapse by AndroideQL (4.2k)

blossoming workplace romance!! jou is kaiba's assistant (yes, everyone is surprised about this outcome too) jou & kaiba are undoubtedly attracted to each other, but theres a couple of (important!!) things about it that theyre not entirely on the same page about. the banter and familiarity jou and kaiba have with each other in this fic is sooo charmingly affectionate, and there are several exchanges that make me laugh every single time. its a refreshing and cute fic that has me hopeful knowing that no matter what communication issues they get up to, they'll eventually get their shit straight

Small and Insignificant Things by Lafae (1.6k)

one more for the office romance train >:) joey, kaiba, and the conundrum of getting a good picture for your photo ID. short and sweet boyfriend shennanigans, i love how joey & kaiba play off of each other during these mundane moments between their hectic schedules and i feel like it perfectly captures the excitement of a fresh relationship and fondly discovering the more trivial details about your partner

Working My Way Back to You by SerenaJones (10k)

during an argument between jou and kaiba, jou angrily states that he wishes they never met. kaiba soon finds himself in a universe where they never did, and meets a rougher, more abrasive jounouchi who never quit his gang who just may be the key to his way back. the worldbuilding in this fic is super cool and extensively fleshed out! its so fascinating to experience how different the cast of yugioh and domino city itself would have become if canon had played out differently, and the interactions between kaiba and a jounouchi who isn't his jounouchi but is just charming is so much fun

Orpheus and Eurydice by saiikavon (3.4k)

post-dsod joey dies while chasing kaiba into the afterlife, and by the title, you can probably imagine what kaiba has to do to get him back. very fun kaiba characterization/study here, with how quick and confident he is to challenge death itself and rebuff anything that gets in his way. and! a bit of spoilers but i love when jou gets to be a little mean (lovingly!!!!) to kaiba hehehe

#answered #puppyshipping #fic recs #ngl i think this specific selection of fics is on the tame end haha just for general rec purposes #most of my favorite kj fics are ones where their characterizations r pushed to extremes via intense situations #but ive noticed that theres an extent to how many dramatics u can pull before less genre-savvy audiences start getting scared💀 #i love them all really....oughh

[vanitaws]

skk fic rec list

(this is also so I can keep track of my faves)

one-shots -> anywhere between 1k and 9k words

call me selfish - banishedimmortal - 5.48k mori makes chuuya use corruption, dazai finds out and saves him and tries to convince fukuzawa to let him join the agency.

steps to happiness - setosdarkness - 1.95k dazai is a single parent with atsushi as his kid and chuuya is dtsushi's teacher. a day in the life of atsushii who has to put up with dazai trying to make chuuya his other father.

imagine being loved by me - lunarumbra - 2.85k chuuya loses his memory, including the memories of his husband, dazai.

information exchange - setosdarkness - 1.71k aku and chuuya get kidnapped by enemies who are looking for atsushi. they regret everything. -> this is more sskk ft skk but its still one of my favourite skk fics

like father, like son - outermind - 1.35k soukokou and shin soukokou live togther. kunikida finds out

a reminder of our love (is all i need) - ecchisenpai - 4.57k 18!dazai (who's in love w chuuya and not in detail) gets sent to present day yokohama and meets 22!dazai (who's in love w chuuya but is very much in denial).

like a bed of roses (there's a dozen reasons in this gun) - blueoysterkit - 7.24k hanahaki soukokou au except they both have it for each other at the same time but the other doesn't know

long-ish -> about 10k to 25k

zut alors! i have missed one! - forest_raccoon - 20.8k (not chaptered) basically little mermaid au kinda ft sskk where atsushi is a prince, aku is a mermaid prince, dazai is a cook, and chuuya is a crab but he's also arahabaki's vessel

yokohama public high school - almost as crazy as their pep rallies - blowing your mind - 20.7k (not chaptered) the student body's attempt on getting chemistry teacher dazai and coach nakahara together ft sskk as two of the students

welcome to the port agency! - lunarumbra - 17.9k (4 chapters) sskk are interns at some kinda media agency (tbh idk what it's called) and skk are they're mentors ft growing relationship sskk and established skk

right of god - setosdarkness - 24.6k (8 chapters) atsushi wakes up only to find everyone aside from aku and chuuya gone, now he must team up w them to figure out what's wrong -> this is more focused on the plot line than any relationship (not to say the relationship isn't there bc it is) but i still really like it so I'm including it

long -> 25k+

you won't lose me (so don't leave me behind) - hybridempress - 163.6k (14 chapters) dazai convinces chuuya to leave the port mafia in less than 200k words

you have a heartbeat (you're real, you're here, you're human) - mostladylikeladythateverladied - 132.4k (13 chapters) part 2 of the previous fic where chuuya is now a part of the ada and happy w dazai but a strange death make rip his future from him -> i read both these fics in the same day they're honestly amazing

bad enough for you - maristella - 28.6k (6 chapters) dazai and chuuya swap abilities and arahabki was never the same (arahabaki hates dazai more than chuuya hates arahabaki)

stars and silence (I'll share them both with you) - irelanictari, lavibookman - 46.1k (10 chapters) a legend of korra type au where dazai is a waterbender and participates in pro-bending w atsushi and aku, and chuuya is the firebender and best friends with aku but he has a massive secret

hunt me down - purplesan - 42.1k (10 chapters) dazai tries to kill himself in the forest where arahabaki (chuuya) and his followers live but chuuya wont let that happen

the act of being human - purplesan - 31.5k (10 chapters) chuuya is a robot caretaker employed by dazai's parents to look after him and care for him. dazai hates him at first but begins to like him as the story progresses -> this is a ship fic but ill say it here and it's mentioned in the authors note that there's no actual romance while dazai is a kid

pretendence - purplesan - 28.9k (11 chapters) the main focus of this one is shin soukokou rather than soukokou but its like a prequel/sequel to the fic mentioned before so ill add it - it does still include skk tho

#jfc that took me ages #but idk I have nothing else to do #might do this for other ships #I have a lot of fics for bkdk and victuuri and nico and will and I have some for catradora #I spent an hour going through my entire ao3 history trying to find the act of being human bc I forgot to save it like I had all the others #bungo stray dogs #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd dazai osamu #osamu dazai #soukoku #bsd manga #fics #fic rec #fanfiction #fanfics #bsd fic

[blessed1neha]

Sun in Astrology & Sun in various houses

Sun in Astrology

Sun is a luminary, a star that shines bright enough to light the whole world. Without its heat and light, we are nothing but an ice-ball. Sun is what makes things up; it is the life giving force. Its energy is profound, and decides whether you become a radiant smiling face or hide behind the clouds of ego and aggression. Sun in Vedic astrology represents the Soul. It is the representation of your outer self, of how you project yourself to the world and what makes you stand apart from the rest. It is the crux of one’s identity and how it is preserved. It is the courage and confidence you employ to fight off the everyday challenges.

Astronomical Facts about Sun

Sun is the biggest celestial body human being is aware of. It is the center of the Solar System and when it comes to its composition, it is a giant ball of plasma, primarily made of hydrogen and helium. It is 149 million km far from Earth yet its influence is most profound on human being compared to other planets. Sun is stationery thus never turns retrograde as everything else in the universe revolves around it. Sun in Vedic astrology terms spends a month in each sign and takes around a year to complete its circle of the whole zodiac and the 12 signs.

Astrological Facts about Sun  

Transit in each sign  1 month

 Direction    East

 Metal    Gold

 Gem    Ruby

 Day    Sunday

 Color  Orange

 Temperament  Hot

 Gender  Male

 Ruling Body Part  Heart, hair, head, bones, eyes, and overall health

 Status in Imperial Stars

 Friends  Jupiter, Moon, Mars

 Enemies  Venus, Saturn

 Neutral  Mercury

 Own Sign  Leo

 Exalted in  Aries 10 Degree

 Debilitated in  Libra 10 Degree

 Mool Trikon  Leo 20 Degree

 Mahadasha Period  6 Years

 Relation  Father

 Professions  Government sector jobs, politicians, physicians, medicines, wheat, gold, copper, and ruby related.

Significance of Sun in Vedic astrology

Sun in Vedic astrology occupies the position of king due to being at the center of it all. Being our natural father, it stands for all the masculine influences in one’s life including Father, husband, and male children. It is the king so represents authority and relation with government too. While Sun represents our innermost self - the soul, we as individuals tend to only manifest the outer self or ego. It gives the natives the ability to lead, desire to earn name and fame, an ambitious attitude, optimism, and a strong will to tackle challenges effectively.

Sun in astrology is also considered to have a regal air so it rules royalty, state and the higher positions as well. It also signifies good health, vitality and wellbeing. A strong Sun in horoscope indicates a person with leadership qualities. Such a person usually enjoys a higher position in society and shares a cordial relationship with father. Native with positively placed Sun is also dependable, generous, and mature.

This fiery planet can be detrimental to health if negatively placed causing baldness, headaches, weak eyesight, blood circulation related problems, bone weakness, and heart problems. A weak Sun in horoscope can also affect one’s relation with father or cause problem to father. Natives with weak Sun usually suffer from low stamina, self-esteem, and indecisiveness. Too strong Sun can result in a domineering or aggressive personality. Such a person may be self-centered and someone who always seeks to be at the center of all action.

Sun In 1st House

Righteous- minded , healthy, bilious, eye-disease, intelligence, good morals, political success, stately appearance, humanitarian instincts, lazy in work, fond of daring deeds, hot constitution, careless of reputation, string will, caprice, generosity, neglect of personal credit or respect, good work, not combative or impetuous and pioneering.

Sun In 2nd House

Diseased face, ugly, losses from prosecution good earnings, inclined to waste, bright speech, enquiring, well-educated, scientific, stubborn and peevish temper, danger in the 25th year, will stammer.

Sun In 3rd House

Courageous, liberal, adventurous, famous, intelligent, wealthy, successful and restless.

Sun In 4th House

Mental worry, meditative defective organs, success in foreign countries, hatred of relations, keen-minded, sensitive, good reputation, success after middle age, quarrels without causes, weak constitution, introspective, unhappy, philosophical, squanders paternal property.

Sun In 5th House

Intelligent, poor, few children, paternal danger, corpulent, danger to father early, unhappy, disturbed in mind, lover of fine arts, and tactful in decision.

Sun In 6th House

Defier of customs and castes, good administrative ability, few cousins and few enemies, bold a successful, war-like, licentious, wealthy, gain from enemies, clever in planning, terror to enemies, executive ability, colic troubles.

Sun In 7th House

Late marriage and rather troubled, loose morals and irreligious, hatred by the fair sex, fond of traveling, submissive to wife, wealth through female agency, fond of foreign things, discontented, wife's character questionable, subservient to women and risk of dishonour and disgrace through them.

Sun In 8th House

Low vitality, poor health, problem with authorities. Possibility of connection of work with government. Strong emotional bonds. Poor happiness from father. Poor eyesight. Stable life.

Sun In 9th House

Well read in solar sciences, attracted by sublime phenomena, charitable, godly, lucky and successful, devoted, ordinary health, little patrimony, dutiful sons, a man of action and thought, self-acquired property, many lands, philosophical, glandular disease, lover of poetry and music, successful agriculturist, learned in esoteric and occult subjects, ambitious and enterprising.

Sun In 10th House

Bold, courageous, well known, famous, clever in acquiring wealth, superior knack, healthy, learned, adventurous, educated, quick decision, fond of music, founder of institutions, high position, dutiful sons, much personal influence, successful military or political career.

Sun In 11th House

Learned, wealthy, stately and persevering, success without much effort, famous, many enemies, wealth through fair means, good reputation, profound insight, capacity to befriend, many political enemies, man of principles, great sagacity, great success and position.

Sun In 12th House

Sinful, poor, fallen, thieving nature, unsuccessful, adulterous, neglected, long limbs, ceremonial minded and lover of esoteric and occult knowledge, no happiness from children

#sun #vedic astrology #astrology #predictive astrology #astrology numerology vedicastrology #astrology numerology vedicastrology #planets