Fic: 2022 SteveTony Games Fill (Team Kill) -- The Stuff(ing) of Nightmares, Stitched Into a Dream

[FIC] The Stuff(ing) of Nightmares, Stitched Into a Dream
Team Kill fill for the 2022 SteveTony Games ( stevetonygames )
Work Type: Fic (1859 words)
Universe: Tsum-Tsum
Bingo Square: Coming Out
Challenge: Mirror, Mirror
Content Warning: Tsum-Tsum Torture (actually kind of graphic, if you're thinking in tsum-tsum terms. BUT it's a happy ending!)

For this Mirror, Mirror challenge, I partnered with Holly, and the prompt we came up with was Arranged Marriage based upon the ideas of "Steve is at risk of losing his independence when he comes out of the ice because reason, and he has to marry Tony or lose that independence" + "The military will have claim on him for assignments/experimentation, if someone else doesn't have a stronger one."

I ended up playing a little fast and loose with it, and also ending up taking what I originally planned as a Serious Body Horror story into the tsum-tsum universe, where it became equal parts, well, still pretty heavy body horror if considered from a tsum point of reference, and also flat-out crack. Plus I got to pun a lot. This one was challenging, but also genuinely a lot of fun!

The Stuff(ing) of Nightmares, Stitched Into a Dream on AO3

Ficlet: 2022 SteveTony Games Fill (Team Kill) -- Make Your Own Luck

[FICLET] Make Your Own Luck
Team Kill fill for the 2022 SteveTony Games ( stevetonygames )
Work Type: Fic (184 words)
Universe: Ambiguous
Bingo Square: Gambling
Challenge: Babel On

Super quick end-of-games ficlet. I do not speak French. I had to use google translate to remind myself what the title of the song actually says. Doesn't matter. A pickup line's a pickup line in any language! Pardon my French, anyway! :P

Um, let's see. the shooter, in craps, is the person throwing the dice. So the internet also tells me.

Ok, enough notes. Posting. Go.

---

It was high rollers all the way in the casino that night. Vegas in full swing, baby. Showgirls with their plumes, drinks flowing, chips stacking, cards flipping, dice and the roulette wheel rolling ever on and on.

Tony Stark was here to make a killing.

And as the fucking gorgeous blond sidled up to him at the craps table, he'd knew found his luck. And if he played his, well, cards, of course, right, his ticket to getting lucky.

He looked up to catch the man's eye, only to find his own caught. Oh, he did love a good idiomatic inaccuracy: luck was no lady. He breathed on the dice, and said, "I'll blow again when it's your turn to shoot."

Let 'em roll, rake in the chips, rake his gaze up and down that white-suited body, and... winner take all.

Didn't pay to be too serious, so he grinned, he goddamn sparkled, and pronounced in perfect French, "Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?"

It was a question only on a technicality. Luck was no lady, and his bet was a sure thing.