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#fiery death? don't know her
ladyanidala · 9 months
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Has Kanera taken over my thoughts???
Do I even need to give you the answer?
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months
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The Widow's Shadow
Natasha Romanoff x Enhanced! Stark!Fem!Reader
Summary: Tony and Pepper adopted you at 13 and now at the age of 18 a beautiful woman named Natalie Rushman walks into your life just as things start to heat up as your powers get displayed for the world to see.
Word Count: 10.5K
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, just basic smut nothing crazy. R is innocent and it's her first time, Natasha at times refers to herself as Daddy, mentions of death (a car accident), R is orphaned,
A/N: I spent so long on this. It takes place during Iron Man 2 when Natasha is undercover as Natalie Rushman.
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The lights in the room were dim, with only the boxing ring illuminated in the center. The rhythmic thud of gloves against pads filled the air, accompanied by the grunts and shouts of those sparring. Your heart raced as you adjusted the grip on your boxing gloves, the anticipation building up inside you.
Then she walked in.
Natalie Rushman. Or at least, that's the name she gave. With her fiery red hair, confident stride, and those piercing eyes that seemed to look right through you, she was a force to be reckoned with. She exuded an aura of mystery, and you were instantly captivated.
Your attention wavered, and in that split second of distraction, you stumbled. Your fist, meant for Happy, met nothing but air as you lost your balance. The next thing you knew, you were on the ground, your chin throbbing, and the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.
"Damn it," you muttered, spitting out the blood, embarrassment flooding over you.
Before you could gather yourself, Natalie was by your side, a small cloth in hand. The gentle touch of her fingers as she dabbed away the blood sent shivers down your spine. "You should be more careful, cupcake," she said, her voice dripping with concern and a hint of playfulness.
“Cupcake?” your heart fluttered.
"Yes, I'm just clumsy sometimes. Don't worry about me, uh..."
"Natalie. Natalie Rushman," she introduced herself, her lips curling into a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.
"Thank you, Ms. Rushman," You managed to say, your cheeks burning.
As she was called into the ring by Tony, you made your way over to Pepper, your adoptive mother. Sitting down in front of her, you tried to regain your composure, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.
"What is he doing?" You asked, trying to divert your attention from Natalie's impending spar with Tony.
Pepper sighed, shaking her head. "About to cause us a lawsuit more than likely."
You chuckled, the tension in your chest easing slightly. But as you watched Natalie effortlessly dodge Tony's advances in the ring, a newfound determination took root within you. You needed to know more about her, to unravel the enigma that was Natalie Rushman.
The tension in the room shifted as Tony and Natalie engaged in their intense staring contest. You couldn't help but watch, the air thick with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity, Tony finally broke the silence, stepping out of the ring with a smirk.
"Happy, spar with her," he commanded, leaving Natalie and Happy to face off. You couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and curiosity about this mysterious woman.
As Happy began to give instructions, Natalie's attention turned toward us. "Rule number one, never take your eyes off your oppon—"
Before Happy could finish his sentence, Natalie moved with lightning speed, effortlessly taking him down. It was a display of skill and strength that left you in awe. The intensity of the moment had a certain allure, and you couldn't deny the fascination that welled up inside of you.
However, your admiration was cut short as Pepper freaked out. You could see the concern in her eyes, contrasting sharply with Tony's impressed expression. It was clear that Natalie possessed a level of expertise that few could match.
As Natalie left the training area, Tony, sitting next to Pepper, turned to her with a grin. "I want one," he remarked, referring to Natalie.
Without thinking, you blurted out, "Me too." The room fell silent for a moment, and you became acutely aware of the disapproving glances from your parents—not because Natalie was a woman, but because she was about eight years older than you.
You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. "I mean, I want a trainer like her. Someone who can handle themselves like that." You tried to backpedal, but the amusement in Tony's eyes and the stern look from your mother told you that your slip hadn't gone unnoticed.
Little did they know, Natalie Rushman had already left an indelible mark on you, and the journey into the world of the extraordinary was just beginning.
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The sun bathed the Italian Grand Prix track in warm hues as the three of you strolled into the restaurant for lunch. The aroma of rich Italian cuisine filled the air, creating a backdrop to the high-energy atmosphere of the race.
"Mr. Stark," her voice called out, and your heart skipped a beat. There she was, Natalie Rushman, in a dress that accentuated every curve, giving you a smirk that sent a wave of excitement through you.
"Ms. Stark. Hello, how was your flight?" she greeted, her eyes locked onto you.
"Good, it was excellent," Tony replied before you could get a word in. You fought to conceal the disappointment and joined your parents as they went to grab drinks offered to them.
Natalie took the opportunity to brief Tony about someone wanting photos of you three. You found yourself pulled between your parents for the impromptu photo session, the camera flashes blinding you momentarily. As the bickering unfolded behind you, you tried to maintain a composed façade.
"Stark, you're a magnet for trouble," Natalie quipped, her gaze never leaving Tony.
"Yeah, but I love it," Tony retorted with his signature smirk.
While your adoptive parents argued about the unexpected presence of Natalie, it became apparent that Pepper was just as surprised as you were to see her here. The tension in the air was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Natalie Rushman was intricately woven into the fabric of your lives, bringing a mix of excitement and unpredictability. Little did you know, this encounter in Italy was just the beginning of a series of events.
The atmosphere in the restaurant was electric, filled with the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses. As you settled into the corner table, Tony's casual request for the specific seating sent Natalie off to make the arrangements. You couldn't help but watch her go, your eyes tracing the graceful sway of her hips with a sense of admiration.
'Damn, she's beautiful,' You thought, feeling a warmth spread through you. The age gap that had seemed so significant earlier now felt inconsequential.
You were lost in your thoughts when you felt Pepper's gaze on you. "Did you know about this?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
"No ma'am, Dad didn't tell me anything about this," You replied honestly, your eyes still lingering on Natalie.
Caught up in the moment, you decided to shed your jacket, feeling the confines of the suit weigh heavily on you. Beneath it, your black vest and light blue button-up felt more comfortable, hugging your frame just right. You rolled up your sleeves to your elbows, revealing the tattoos that adorned your arms.
You couldn't help but notice Natalie's subtle glances in your direction as you settled back into your chair, your posture relaxed yet confident. Resting your elbows on the table, you clasped your hands together, the pose unintentionally showcasing your tattoos and muscles.
You glanced over your shoulder, catching Natalie's eye. This time, it was her turn to look away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. The playful exchange sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't help but smile.
The restaurant's ambiance was suddenly punctuated by a sense of urgency as Pepper scanned the room, her eyes widening in disbelief as she spotted the TV screen. Following her gaze, you saw what had caught her attention—a news report showing Tony getting into some sort of altercation.
"Uhhh, Mom..." You hesitated, pointing to the screen, your voice tinged with concern.
"Oh, you've gotta be..." Pepper's voice trailed off, her worry evident. "Where is Happy? Natalie?" she muttered, scanning the room once more.
You shrugged, feeling a sense of unease settle over you. "I'll go check, see if I can find them. If not, I'll go stop him myself," You offered, determined to help.
Pepper's warning glare stopped you in your tracks. "No use of your powers in public," she whispered through clenched teeth, her concern for your secret identity overriding any immediate action. “I have enough going on with your father right now Y/N/N.”
You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling up inside you. Shoving your hands into your pockets, you sighed, "Yeah, yeah... I know, Mom." The weight of your powers felt like a burden in that moment, the desire to help conflicting with the need for secrecy.
Walking away, you couldn't help but dwell on the constraints that held you back. You had this incredible power at your fingertips, yet you were forbidden from using it when it mattered most. The internal struggle was real, and you grappled with the complexities of your identity, torn between the desire to do good and the necessity of maintaining your carefully guarded secret.
The urgency of the situation propelled you to take action. Without wasting any words, you found Natalie just around the corner and swiftly grabbed her wrist. She reacted defensively, ready to strike, but you caught her fist with your own, feeling the subtle itch of your tattoos, a primal instinct to protect yourself kicking in.
"Just me. We have a situation," you stated firmly, guiding her back toward Pepper.
As we approached Pepper, Natalie's attention shifted to the TV screens displaying Tony's predicament. Pepper wasted no time in questioning Natalie's knowledge of the situation. "Did you know about this?" she asked, her tone demanding answers.
Natalie looked up at one of the TVs, a nervous energy radiating from her as she wiped her hands on her dress. "No, this is the first I'm hearing of this," she assured Pepper.
Concern etched on her face, Pepper inquired about Happy's whereabouts. "Where's Happy?" she pressed.
"He's waiting just outside," Natalie responded promptly. "Go get him. I need him."
Natalie rushed off to retrieve Happy, leaving you standing there, eyes fixed on the screens. "What are you doing, Dad?" You muttered, your left arm itching, a physical manifestation of the unease and frustration building within you. The unpredictability of your lives was becoming increasingly apparent, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of the challenges that lay ahead.
"Y/N. Go, now. We'll meet you there." The urgency in Pepper's voice snapped you into action. Without hesitation, you sprinted toward the race track, your focus razor-sharp as you navigated through the crowd. As you passed Happy and Natalie, you shouted over the noise, "I'll meet you down there! Get to the car with Mom!"
Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you approached the unfolding situation. Every second counted, and you couldn't afford to waste any time. The man on the track posed a potential threat, and you needed to intervene before things escalated further.
As you reached the edge of the track, you assessed the situation, formulating a plan of action. The safety of the racers and spectators was paramount, and you braced yourself for whatever challenges lay ahead.
The air crackled with electricity as the man on the track wielded his arch reactor-powered tendrils with lethal precision, slicing through the race cars as if they were mere toys. Your heart pounded in your chest as Tony's car took the hit, flipping over in a terrifying display of destruction.
"DAD!" Your scream echoed across the track, the fear and urgency evident in your voice. Without a second thought, you vaulted over the fence, your tattoos coming to life, swirling patterns of black smoke enveloping the two of you as you helped Tony out of the wreckage.
"Dad, are you okay?" You asked, your voice trembling with concern.
Tony's resolve hardened as he steadied himself, his gaze locked on the mysterious man. "Yes, Y/N/N, I'm fine. We need to stop him. This isn't how I wanted your debut to be, but it looks like it's time. I'm going to get behind him and try to knock him out," he declared, determination burning in his eyes.
You nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in. As the smoke began to dissipate, you positioned yourself as the distraction, ready to confront the man and protect your family. The tendrils lashed out at you, crackling with energy, but your tattoos responded instinctively, deflecting each strike with calculated precision.
The standoff intensified, the track becoming a battleground as we clashed with an unknown adversary. But amidst the chaos, a newfound sense of purpose surged within you. You were ready to embrace your powers, to stand alongside your father and defend your legacy against those who sought to harm you.
The screeching of tires and the roar of the engine filled the air as the car skidded to a halt, Happy and Pepper finally arriving on the scene. The sight of the man slamming into the fence was a welcome relief, albeit a brief one.
"Get in the car, now!" Pepper's voice cut through the chaos, her urgency driving you into action. You didn't hesitate, quickly climbing into the car as Tony and the man continued their struggle.
The tension inside the car was palpable, Tony's stubbornness clashing with the immediate need for safety. The man's relentless pursuit of the Ironman suitcase added another layer of danger, and you knew you had to intervene.
Seizing the moment, you grabbed the suitcase and hurled it out of the car, clearing the way for Tony to finally subdue the man in a climactic showdown. The sense of relief was overwhelming as the police arrived, taking the man into custody and securing the arch reactor.
As the adrenaline wore off, Pepper's concern shifted to you, her hands checking for any sign of injury. "Are you hurt, Y/N/N? Does it hurt anywhere? Are you okay?" she asked repeatedly, her voice filled with worry.
You tried to reassure her, but the repetitive questions only intensified the throbbing in your head. "Mom, I'm fine, really," you said, doing your best to quell her concerns.
The atmosphere in the penthouse suite was thick with tension and emotion as Pepper and you returned from the chaotic events at the race track. The concern in Natalie's eyes was evident as she greeted you, her hands gently resting on your arms as she assessed your well-being.
"You aren't hurt, right?" Her voice was filled with genuine concern, sending a wave of warmth through you. She cared, and that realization was both comforting and exhilarating.
"I'm fine, but thank you. I just need some Tylenol and a hot shower," you replied, trying to mask the lingering adrenaline and fatigue.
"I'll get both ready for you, Ms. Stark," Natalie offered, her voice soft yet reassuring.
Retreating to your room, you collapsed onto the bed, the events of the day weighing heavily on your mind. Your tattoos continued to shift across your skin, a visual reminder of the power and responsibility that came with your abilities.
Lost in thought, you were caught off guard when Natalie suddenly appeared beside you, her proximity sending your heart racing. Your eyes locked, and you found yourself mesmerized by the intensity of her gaze.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Her whisper was barely audible, the concern evident in her eyes.
Caught up in the moment, you found yourself flirting with the boundaries of your relationship. "I mean...my lips kind of hurt...maybe you could kiss them better," You teased, throwing caution to the wind.
For a moment, Natalie looked taken aback, the implications of kissing Tony Stark's daughter weighing heavily on her mind. But the pull between you two was undeniable, and she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, electrifying kiss.
The world seemed to fade away as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment, the electricity between you igniting a spark that neither of you could deny. In that instant, you realized that your feelings for Natalie ran deeper than you had ever imagined, and you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of you.
But for now, in this fleeting moment, you were content to savor the warmth of her embrace, the promise of what lay ahead lingering in the air as your lips met once again in a passionate kiss.
"My parents will kill both of us if they find out about that." You say sitting up. The post-adrenaline haze hung in the air as you sat up, the realization of the impulsive kiss sinking in. As you took the pills and downed the glass of water Natalie brought you, she playfully remarked, "Good girl." A shiver ran down your spine at her words, a mixture of surprise and amusement at the unexpected response to a simple act.
"I'll keep that reaction in mind for later, but for now, your shower is waiting for you. I'd join you, Ms. Stark, but I think they'd realize I was gone," Natalie whispered with a mischievous smile.
"Y/N. You can just call me Y/N or Y/N/N," you corrected, scratching your arm as a small smile played on your lips.
"Okay, Y/N/N, well, enjoy your shower and try not to think about me too much," Natalie teased, purposefully bending forward as she got up. The suggestive move caught you off guard, and you felt a sudden wetness between your thighs, a heat rising within you.
You stormed off toward the shower, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The day had taken unexpected turns, and Natalie's playful banter only added to the complexity of the situation. As you stepped into the shower, the warm water enveloping you, you couldn't shake the lingering sensations from your encounter.
The atmosphere inside the plane was heavy with tension, the hum of the engines providing a constant backdrop to the somber mood. The news reports filled the cabin, discussing the events at the race track and speculating about Tony's actions and the existence of your powers.
"Child with toys," you grumbled, rolling your eyes at the dismissive tone of the reporters. The urge to defend your father and your family's legacy was strong, but you bit your tongue, choosing to retreat into your music instead.
Inserting your earbuds and selecting a playlist on your iPod, you closed your eyes and let the music wash over you. The familiar melodies provided a welcome escape, transporting you back to the intimate moment you shared with Natalie, the soft touch of her lips still lingering on yours.
Lost in thought, you found yourself yearning for the comfort and excitement of that stolen moment, a brief respite from the chaos and scrutiny that surrounded your lives. The complexity of your feelings for Natalie weighed on your mind, the unexpected connection leaving you yearning for more.
As the plane soared through the night sky, you allowed yourself to drift, the memories of your kiss and the promise of what lay ahead providing a glimmer of hope and excitement amidst the uncertainty of your lives.
The tension in the living room was palpable as Pepper and Natalie juggled their respective phone calls, their voices filled with a sense of urgency and concern. The events of the past few days had taken a toll on all of you, and the need for damage control was evident.
Rhodey's unexpected arrival added another layer of complexity to the situation, his stern demeanor contrasting with the chaos unfolding around you. Natalie's attempt to keep him away was met with a united front from Pepper and you, your synchronized response catching her off guard.
As Natalie's eyes narrowed and she mouthed a warning, you couldn't help but smirk, a chuckle escaping your lips as you shook your head in amusement. The playful exchange only heightened the tension between you, the unspoken connection growing stronger with each passing moment.
Walking on thin ice had never been so exhilarating, and you found yourself eagerly anticipating the moment when it would finally break, allowing you two to explore the depth of your feelings and the possibilities that lay ahead.
The anticipation for Tony's birthday party filled the air as you got ready in your room. Opting for an edgy yet stylish look, you adorned yourself in an asymmetrical black techwear skirt, a matching crop top, and thigh-high stockings with garter belts. Chunky Doc Martens completed the ensemble, and you threw up your Y/H/C up into a slightly messy bun. Dark makeup accentuated the tattoos that adorned your legs and covered your body.
Lost in your reflection, you didn't hear the door open and close. Only when Natalie appeared behind you, her arm snaking around your waist, did you realize you weren't alone. Her proximity sent a shiver down your spine as she whispered in your ear, "Who knew you could pull off suits and pretty skirts, cupcake."
A playful comment lingered in the air as you met her gaze through the mirror. Your breath caught when she continued, "I could just eat you out...I mean up." A suggestive bite of her lip followed, and your cheeks flushed with heat.
Her promise for later hung in the air, leaving you at a loss for words. "Once I get your dad all ready for his party, I'll come find you so we can have some fun of our own, okay, cupcake?" You could only nod, words escaping you in the face of the unexpected intensity of your exchange.
"Words, cupcake," she purred, her hand grazing your ass and squeezing slightly as she kissed your cheek. A shaky breath left you as you managed to stammer, "Y-yes, Natalie."
She smirked, letting her presence linger before sauntering off. You watched her leave in yet another alluring dress, feeling a magnetic pull as desire surged through you.
The pulsating beat from the party below seemed distant as you found myself alone with Natalie in your room. The bottle of vodka in your hand was both a comfort and a reminder of the chaos surrounding you. The weight of the world's scrutiny, the questions about your abilities, and the expectations tied to your identity as Tony Stark's daughter pressed down on you.
Natalie's sudden presence broke through your thoughts, her voice drawing you back to the present. "Hmmm last I checked you aren't 21, Ms. Stark," she remarked, her eyes locked onto yours. You took notice that she had changed since earlier now wearing a cheetah print slip dress.
Caught off guard, you tried to justify your actions. "Look, it's been a week, you know this. I just need to not think about everything for a bit, okay?" Your voice was tinged with frustration and vulnerability, the raw emotions bubbling to the surface.
Natalie's raised eyebrow and confident stride toward you sent a jolt of electricity through the air. Placing the bottle down, she closed the distance between you, her hands resting on your hips as she leaned in, her voice husky and seductive. "Well, if you don't want to not think for a bit...I could certainly help you with that. I am your assistant, after all."
The subtle shift in her voice, the hint of an accent, and the intoxicating proximity sent your heart racing. The line between assistant and lovers blurred, leaving you breathless and longing for more.
"No, you're my parents' assistant," you countered, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But Natalie's words and actions had already ignited a fire within you, the tension between you was palpable.
Her response, dripping with desire and intensity, pulled you in further, your resolve crumbling with each passing second. "You're their precious daughter, how could I not take care of you?" The closeness of your bodies, the warmth radiating between the two of you, elicited a soft moan from your lips, your voice betraying the desire coursing through me.
"Natalie..." you whispered, your voice filled with longing and anticipation, the promise of what lay ahead leaving you eager and breathless as your worlds collided, opening the door to a connection neither of you could deny.
The world seemed to fade away as your lips met, the intensity of your connection deepening with each passing second. Natalie's hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more passionate. Your hands instinctively cupped her cheeks, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as desire took hold.
The sensation was electrifying, every touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Before you knew it, the two of you were tumbling onto the bed, your bodies entwined as the passion between you intensified. The softness of the sheets beneath you, the warmth of her body pressed against yours, all added to the overwhelming sensation of being lost in the moment.
When your lips finally parted, the look of surprise in Natalie's eyes mirrored your own feelings. But before you could react, she flipped you, her strength and confidence evident as she pinned you against the bed. The feeling of her thigh pressing between your legs sent a shiver down your spine, a gasp escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you.
Your eyes locked, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless and eager for more. Her husky voice and commanding words spurred you on, igniting a fire within you that you never knew existed.
"Move your hips, cupcake. Ride my thigh," she whispered, her lips finding yours once again in a passionate kiss.
The encouragement and guidance from Natalie gave you the confidence to explore new sensations, your body instinctively responding to her touch. As you began to move your hips, the pleasure intensified, a soft moan escaping your lips as the rhythm between you grew more intense.
The experience was exhilarating, the connection between you deepening as the two of you explored new levels of intimacy. Despite your lack of experience, Natalie's guidance and the undeniable chemistry between you allowed you to lose yourself in the moment, embracing the pleasure and excitement of the unknown.
Every touch, every kiss was a testament to the passion and desire that had been simmering beneath the surface, now fully unleashed as the two of you surrendered to the intensity of your connection. Lost in a world of pleasure and longing, you allowed yourself to be guided by Natalie, trusting her to lead you on a journey of discovery and fulfillment.
The intensity of the moment reached its peak as Natalie's words and actions drove you closer to the edge. The sensation of her hands on your hips, guiding and encouraging you, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, each touch amplifying the ecstasy that was building within you.
"I'm so glad you wore this skirt; it's so much easier to play with you," she murmured, her voice filled with desire and anticipation.
Her words, combined with the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together, pushed you closer to the brink. The feeling of being on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release, was exhilarating, and you found yourself whining in desperation, craving the release that was within reach.
"N-Nat..." you moaned, your voice filled with longing and need.
"Go on, cupcake, cum for me," she whispered seductively, her eyes locked onto yours as she urged you to let go.
The intensity of her gaze, the warmth of her touch, and the intoxicating rhythm drove you over the edge, your body trembling with pleasure as waves of ecstasy washed over you. Your tattoos seemed to come alive, moving across your body in sync with the waves of pleasure, a visual testament to the intensity of the experience.
"That's my good girl. Just like that...ride it out, baby girl," Natalie whispered, her voice filled with pride and satisfaction.
You opened your eyes, the world coming back into focus as you met Natalie's gaze. Her pupils were blown, the green barely visible as desire and satisfaction radiated from her. You could only imagine that your own eyes mirrored hers, the connection between you deepening as you shared a moment of pure ecstasy and intimacy, lost in the intensity of your connection.
The sudden interruption jolted you back to reality, the remnants of your intimate moment with Natalie quickly fading as the house shook with the force of the impact. Instinctively, you both ran towards the main floor, your concern growing as you heard Pepper's voice.
"Natalie!" Pepper's voice echoed through the chaos, her tone filled with urgency and concern.
"Mrs. Potts," Natalie responded promptly, her professional demeanor coming to the forefront.
The tension in the room was palpable, Pepper's eyes narrowing as she looked from Natalie to you, her concern evident. Before she could say more, the floor erupted beneath us, Tony and Rhodey crashing through in a display of raw power and conflict.
"Go!" you urged Natalie and Pepper, your tattoos coming to life as you stepped forward, ready to intervene.
The look of concern in Natalie's eyes tugged at your heart, but you reassured her, "Go...I'll be fine." With that, they retreated, Happy guiding Pepper away while Natalie disappeared in another direction.
"Stop fighting, you two! I will separate you!" You called out, your shadowy tendrils extending from your body, ready to intervene.
"Don't get involved, Y/N/N. This is between your father and me," Rhodey warned, his voice filled with determination and resolve. As he was don in the War Machine suit.
Despite his words, you couldn't stand by and watch as the two men you cared about most clashed in a battle that threatened to tear them apart. The power surging through you, the determination to protect and intervene, drove you forward as you stepped between them, ready to do whatever it took to stop the fighting and restore peace.
The adrenaline coursing through your veins began to wane as the immediate threat subsided. Exhausted, you released your grip on Tony, your muscles aching from the effort it took to restrain him. His intoxicated state only added to my frustration and concern, the gravity of his actions weighing heavily on you.
"What the hell was that, Dad!?" You shouted, your voice filled with anger and disbelief.
But Tony was lost in a drunken haze, his words slurred and unintelligible as he mumbled to himself. The reality of the situation hit you hard, the realization that his actions had not only put himself at risk but also jeopardized the safety and well-being of everyone around him.
"You ruined my night..." you muttered, the disappointment and frustration evident in your voice.
Thoughts of Natalie filled your mind, the connection you had shared was overshadowed by the chaos and conflict that had erupted. The uncertainty of whether you would see her again weighed heavily on you, the hope of exploring your newfound connection clouded by the events that had transpired.
The morning brought a new day, but the lingering tension from the events of the previous night weighed heavily on you. Tony, still in his suit, took you to a breakfast spot for some donuts, attempting to break the silence and ease the tension that hung between you.
"You really messed up last night," you stated bluntly, taking a bite of your bear claw.
"Yeah, yeah, shut up and eat your breakfast," he retorted, a hint of regret in his tone.
As the two of you enjoyed your breakfast on the rooftop, Nick Fury approached, interrupting your moment of relative peace. You used your smoky tendrils to descend slowly, greeting Fury with a smile.
"Fury," you acknowledged, the familiarity in your interactions a contrast to the strain in your relationship with your father.
"Little Stark," Fury replied, a smile crossing his face as he hugged you. Tony eventually joined you, and the three of you headed inside to continue your conversation.
Sitting in a booth with your father and Fury on the opposite side, you were taken aback when Natalie appeared, clad in a skin-tight black bodysuit. Your mouth fell open as she smiled at you. The unexpected presence of someone you thought you might not see again left you momentarily speechless.
"We've secured the perimeter, but I don't think we can handle it much longer," she reported to Fury.
"Huh...you're fired," Tony declared, a hurt expression crossing your face.
"Oh, that's not up to you," Natalie retorted, her words cutting through the tension.
"Tony, little Stark, I'd like you to meet Agent Romanoff," Fury introduced.
"I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D shadow. Once we knew you were ill, I was tasked to you by Director Fury. Finding out you had powers was just icing on the cake," Natalie explained, her gaze lingering on you.
The revelation about Natalie's true role left you unsettled. As you looked away, a sense of dissociation washed over you—a defense mechanism you hadn't employed in a long time. The complexities of your newfound powers and the tangled web of relationships and secrets threatened to pull you further into the abyss, leaving you grappling with the uncertain path that lay ahead.
The weight of the recent events and the complexities of your relationships left you feeling isolated and overwhelmed. Holed up in your room, a wave of depression washed over you, casting a shadow over everything. A knock at the door interrupted your solitude, but you didn't feel like engaging with anyone. Despite your lack of response, the door opened.
"Go away, Dad. I don't want to talk," you called out, assuming it was Tony attempting to breach the walls of your solitude.
"Oh, I'm not your dad, unless that's something you're into," Natalie's voice cut through the air. The unexpectedness of her presence caused you to shoot up, facing her as she stood just past your door.
"What do you want?" you asked coldly, your guard up as you braced for whatever conversation or confrontation might follow. The uncertainty of where you stood and the weight of your emotions made it difficult to predict the nature of your interaction.
"I want to talk if you'll let me," Natalie's voice was soft, but the weight of her words hung heavily in the air.
"Why should I? Everything I know about you is a lie, Natalie! Oh wait, that isn't even your name!" Your voice trembled with anger and hurt, the betrayal you felt evident in every word. "I gave myself to you. You were my first, and it was all a lie!" Tears welled in your eyes, the pain of the deception cutting deep.
As Natalie stepped closer, you felt a surge of emotions, your tattoos reacting to your heightened state. "Don't," you warned, the tendrils of smoke-like energy emanating from your skin, ready to defend and protect.
"You wouldn't," she challenged, closing the distance between us despite your warning.
"I said don't." Your voice was firm, the energy around you intensifying as you braced for a confrontation.
But instead of a clash, Natalie's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug as you broke down. Your knees buckled beneath you, and you clung to her tightly, the weight of your emotions overwhelming. Smoke from your tattoos clouded around the two of you, a physical manifestation to how clouded your mind felt.
"You lied...you lied to me..." you sobbed, your fists weakly pounding against her as the tears flowed freely.
She held you close, waiting patiently for the storm of emotions to pass, her presence a source of comfort amidst the chaos of your feelings. The pain of the betrayal lingered, but in that moment, the connection between you offered a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty and pain.
"I had to, and I know you have no reason to trust me, but I'm going to tell you something, something no one else knows about me. Can you look at me, Y/N/N?" Natasha urged, her voice filled with a vulnerability you had never heard from her before. Gently, she tilted your chin upwards, her eyes searching yours as she saw the hurt reflected in them.
"You're right, my name isn't Natalie. I go by Natasha now, but my real name, not a spy name or anything like that. The one on my original birth certificate is Natalia," she confessed, her voice soft and sincere. "Though I change names around, I've always been..."
"Nat?" You interrupted, the realization dawning on you.
She was caught off guard but smiled warmly, "Yeah, always, cupcake."
You searched her eyes, looking for any sign of deception, any hint that this was another lie. But all you found was sincerity and a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. The journey to rebuild trust would be a long one, but in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope.
"It's going to take time for me to fully trust anything you say, but for now...please just...stay with me," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion as you clung to her tightly.
"Whatever you need, cupcake," Natasha replied, her voice filled with determination and resolve. Slowly the smoke dissipated around you, your mind clearing up.
Leaning up, you captured her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, the connection between you reigniting as you slowly explored the depths of your feelings. Despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, the bond between you remained unbroken, a testament to the strength of your connection and the hope for a future built on trust and understanding.
The atmosphere in the lab was thick with anticipation and nostalgia as Tony and yourself delved into the trunk of his father's belongings. The weight of the legacy left behind by his father loomed large, the contents of the trunk a tangible link to the past and the future.
"So this is all the stuff Grandpa left for you," you remarked, sorting through the items before handing a blueprint of the arc reactor to Tony. His fingers traced the lines and annotations, a sense of reverence in his touch as he studied the intricate design.
Setting the blueprint aside, Tony began to sift through his father's old journal, his eyes scanning the pages filled with calculations and theories. The depth of knowledge contained within the pages was staggering, a testament to his father's genius and the groundbreaking work he had undertaken.
"Hey, Dad, there are some reels of film. We should watch them," you suggested, your curiosity piqued as you handed the reels to Tony.
Nodding in agreement, Tony set up the projector, the soft whir of the film reels filling the room. As the images flickered to life, we were greeted by the familiar face of his father, his voice echoing through the years as he spoke passionately about the arc reactor and its potential to change the world.
As the film played on, revealing insights and revelations about the arc reactor's design and functionality, Tony and you were drawn deeper into the legacy that had shaped his family's destiny. The blend of past and present, the convergence of old knowledge and new possibilities, served as a poignant reminder of the responsibility you carried and the legacy you hoped to uphold.
Together, you continued to explore the contents of the trunk, each item a piece of the puzzle, each revelation a step closer to unlocking the mysteries of the arc reactor and fulfilling Tony's quest to perfect it for his own life force and well-being. The journey ahead was filled with challenges and uncertainties, but in that moment, you were united in your determination to honor the legacy of the past and forge a path forward into the future.
As the film continued to play, a poignant moment unfolded as Tony's father addressed him directly. The atmosphere in the lab grew still, the weight of the words hanging in the air as his father spoke with a sense of purpose and conviction.
"I built all of this for you, Tony," his father's voice echoed through the years, a heartfelt message from the past. "Someday, you'll understand it all and be able to pick up where I left off."
The sincerity in his father's words resonated deeply, the realization dawning on Tony that he was part of something far greater than himself, a legacy that spanned generations. The mention of his father, limited by the resources available to him at the time, added another layer of complexity to the narrative, highlighting the sacrifices and challenges faced by those who had come before him.
As the film continued, revealing more insights and revelations about the arc reactor's design and functionality, Tony was faced with the daunting task of carrying forward the legacy entrusted to him. The responsibility weighed heavily on him, but the belief and confidence his father had placed in him served as a source of inspiration and motivation.
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“It was an illegal seizure of trademark property.” Your mother spoke on the phone as you lounged on the couch in her office, the news once again playing on about Iron Man and talking about you. How young you are and how reckless it is of your adoptive father to allow you to use these enhanced powers. A scoff rolls off your tongue as if he truly had any control over you. You had mostly stopped paying attention to the droning anchorman when two words slipped out of a small girls mouth who was being interviewed.
“When I grow up I wanna be just like the Shadow Queen!” You shot up straight, watching the television and ignoring the fact that your father just walked in carrying the one thing your mom is allergic too.
“Did you guys hear that!?” You asked excitedly calling over the couch that you now perched backwards on and interrupting the conversation they were having. Both looked at you and then the news on TV which now had the headline ‘Shadow Queen: Is This Child Endangerment?’ Pepper let out an exasperated sigh and Tony smiled.
“You are not pulling anymore stunts. Natalie and I are still trying to do damage control.” Pepper spoke and you could hear how over the topic she’d become ever since Italy. You deflated a bit back into the couch until Natasha walked in. Her eyes flicked to you a smirk on her face as she walked up to Pepper.
“Wheels up in 25 minutes. Will Ms. Stark be joining us?” Natasha asked and you smiled.
“Yes she will be.” You answered, jumping the couch. “Oh and Natalie dear can you get me a meeting with the press? I’d like to make an official statement as Shadow Queen.” Both Pepper and Natasha looked at you.
“Absolutely not.” Pepper spoke.
“Sorry mom. I need to do this. I know you and dad both think I’m a kid still. I’m not. I’m not the same girl dad found. I’m an adult now. I’ve watched both of you for so long now and I need to do this for myself. I need the world to know who I am.” You look from your mom to Natasha who doesn’t offer any guidance as your eyes wander back to your mom who lets out a sigh.
“If it’s not your dad it’s you causing me a headache.” She was rubbing her temples. “Just go get ready for the flight. Wear something nice.”
“Do you need anything else boss?” You heard Happy call and when both Pepper and Tony tried to answer, Tony looked around the room at the three of you.
“Oh I see I lost all the kids in the divorce.” He laughs, but Natasha stays focused on Pepper and you stay focused on Natasha. You see Happy shake his head in your peripheral. “No.” Natasha’s focus moved from Pepper to out the floor to ceiling windows of the office before her eyes flickered back to you. Her expression unchanging. Tony cleared his throat, catching your attention. “Are you blending in well here, Natalie? Here at Stark Enterprises?” Is he serious right now? You think to yourself as his tone shifts. At the mention of her name Natasha turns her head towards Tony. Her head tilting down ever so slightly as if to say stop, but Tony being who he is continues. “Your name is Natalie, isn’t it?”
“Dad.” You catch all three of their attention. “Did you hit your head or something?” You ask sticking your hands in your pockets. “Her name hasn’t changed since we met her. Natalie. Natalie Rushman. Remember?” You tilt your head to the side almost as a little warning. Your tattoos shifting ever so slightly that catches Tony’s attention.
Pepper got up while the two of you talked, taking with her the papers she had just signed. “Y/N/N, hurry up. Go change I’ll meet you and Natalie on the plane.” You smiled at your mother as she left the room. Natasha began to clean up her desk waiting for Pepper to be gone before speaking,
“I’m surprised you can keep your mouth shut.” There was a bite to her voice that made you shiver and smile.
“Boy, you’re good. You are mind-blowingly duplicitous. How do you do it? You just tear things....You’re a triple imposter. I’ve never seen anything like you. Is there anything real about you? Do you even speak Latin?” Tony rambled and as Natasha started to leave, following behind you she spoke out in Latin,
“Which means? Wait. What? What did you just say?” Tony asked spinning around in his chair as you wait by the door for Natasha who spun around on her heels to answer him.
“It means I’m fucking your daughter.” She turned back and grabbed your wrist as the two of you left, your mind sputtering.
“What the hell Nat!?” You finally managed out as the two of you stopped at your room to change. An outfit already picked out by Natasha you assumed.
“You think that he’ll actually take that to heart? He called me a triple agent and asked if anything about me is real.” You went to say something, but she stopped you with a kiss. “Shhh cupcake. Get dressed in the outfit I picked.” Her breath hot against your lips and no matter how much you wanted to fight it. That wouldn’t happen as she helped get you undressed.
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You, Pepper, Happy, and Natasha arrive at the Expo. It’s all too loud and noisy for your liking, but you stick close to Natasha. You brush your arms together every so often and a gentle squeeze here and there from her when she can tell you’re getting too tense.
Your tattoos have ben shifting all night. Something wasn’t right and you make mention of it to Natasha when she asks what’s wrong. The markings adorning your body shifting along and Natasha who was already keeping a close eye on things seems to double down.
The three of you sat in the audience watching as Justin Hammer revealed his latest ‘invention’ which was just a rip of of the Iron Man suit making your blood boil and your tattoos itch as they crawled around your skin. You had begun itching at your arms until Natasha’s hand found yours. Your fingers intertwining with hers as she she your hands down on your lap. Keeping her eyes on the stage. You looked at her and then your eyes flicked to Pepper who was too wrapped up in the blatant rip off of Tony’s suit.
Everyone around the three of you clapping as he showed off each set in a different style for each branch of the military. “That’s a hell of a lot better than some cheerleader, let me tell you. But as revolutionary as this technology is, there will always be a need for man to be present in the theater of war.” You roll your eyes knowing just how badly things could go if they start adding anything remotely close to robotic tech like this into the mix of war. It should be nowhere near the battlefield, but idiots like Justin don’t know and don’t care about things like that when money is involved. “Ladies and gentlemen, today I am proud to present to you the very first prototype in the Variable Threat Response Battle Suit and its pilot, Air Force Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes.” As Justin stepped back leaving both Pepper and yourself in shock two quiet “What!?” came out of your mouths.
Rhodey was slowly lifted up in the Mark II suit he had taken a few days prior. You grit your teeth at the man who you practically considered an uncle turning against your father. As Rhodey came into full view you could tell modifications had been made to the suit and it looked a bit bulkier all around with a gun coming off the right shoulder. “For America and its allies, Hammer Industries is reporting for...” Justin didn’t get to finish his sentence as a rumbling started to approach catching everyone’s attention.
You knew what it was as soon as it came into view, your dad, in his suit. Coming right up and touching down in front of Rhodey. You stood up, un able to sit any longer, but you felt the tug back from Natasha. You looked back at her and exchanged looks for a moment before she slowly let your hand go after giving it a tight squeeze.
Everyone was standing up to clap so luckily it went mostly unnoticed until your tattoos moved off your skin pushing you up and landing you just behind your dad. He turned only slightly, but gave no other acknowledgement.
“We got trouble.” Tony stated walking towards Rhodey.
“Tony, Y/N/N there are civilians present.” Rhodey mentioned and you looked behind and back at him like, ‘yeah I know’. “I’m here on orders. Let’s not do this right now.”
“Give them a wave.” You heard Tony state as you walked up to the two men. You turned around giving a smile and two peace signs, letting your tattoos slowly dance around you.
“Hey, all right! Yeah!” Justin pushed past you trying to recapture the audience attention.
“All these people are in danger.” You heard Tony speak, but didn’t react as you were still looking at the crowd. “We gotta get em outta here. You gotta trust me for the next five minutes.”
“Yeah, I tried that. I got tossed around your house, remember?” Rhodey reminds and you turn to the two men finally.
“Listen I think he’s working with Vanko.”
“Vanko is alive?” Rhodey asked and you were questioning the same thing. Tony moved you back to just behind Rhodey as he stepped up to Justin.
“Where is he?” Tony asked Justin.
“What?”
“Where’s Vanko?”
“Who?”
“Tell me.”
“What are you doing here, man?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rhodey spoke.
“What? What is it?” You ask looking up at Rhodey. Suddenly the gun on his shoulder is pointed at Tony along with the civilians. Your mind races knowing Pepper and Natasha are there too.
“Is that you!?” Tony asks in a panic.
“No, I’m not doing that. That’s not me. I can’t move. I’m locked up. I’m locked up.” Rhodes was panicing as the robots behind you also started to move.
“Dad. I’ve got this.” You called out moving just behind Rhodey. “Help Rhodey.” Almost all the tattoos came off your skin, acting as a barrier to stop the the robots from hurting anyone as they started to fire. Though you felt the hits through the markings you stood tall. As your dad and Rhodey took off into the sky so did the robots. Leaving you there.
“Fuck not being able to fly.” You grumbled, but your tattoos moved instinctively to protect the civilians from the falling glass. You coughed up blood from all the gunshots and glass. Trying to look over the crowd for your mother and Natasha. Finally finding them and moving yourself to them.
Your tattoos came back into you. Your skin feeling like it was on fire as you came up behind Natasha. She grabbed onto when you fell against her.
“You did a good job cupcake take a break. Daddy’s gotta take care of something.” You looked up at her in confusion before she arm barred Justin into the table. “You tell me who’s behind this. Who’s behind this?” Natasha practically growled and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.
“Ivan. Ivan Vanko.” Justin groaned.
“Where is he?” She asked, tightening her hold.
“He’s at my facility.” As soon as she had the information she let go. Walking away from Pepper and you followed close behind.
“Don’t follow cupcake.” Her voice was stern, but you weren’t about to listen.
“I’m coming with you. I took this guy on once before. I’m coming with you and I’m helping.” Natasha stopped turning on her heels. She looked down at you. Her face was harsh and took your breath away, but you didn’t back down.
“I can’t loose you.” Natasha’s voice was flat.
“And I can’t loose you. So either we go together or I hold you here with me.” She raised an eyebrow in a challenge before turning once more and continuing on.
The two of you made your way outside, Happy caught your eye in the crowd of people trying to escape. “Nobody’s answering the phone. What’s going on?” He asked quickly.
“Get in the car. You’re taking us to Hammer industries.” Natasha called out and Happy looked to you for confirmation. You gave him a nod as Natasha got in the back seat, you climbing in passenger.
Happy drove frantically after you had gotten out of the crowd. Luckily because of the Expo and the time of night the streets were rather clear.
“When we arrive, I need you to watch the perimeter, Happy.” You looked back at Natasha, watching as she took her hair down. “I’m gonna enter the facility and take down the target.” Natasha started undressing and you looked away, a blush covering your cheeks as you noticed Happy looking. He started swerving and your tattoos moved up blocking the view as your girlfriend changed. You exchanged a look with Happy before his eyes returned to the road.
“Go ahead Nat. You’re good.” You called out to which you got a ‘Thanks cupcake.’ in return as another look with Happy is exchanged. “I’ll explain when half of New York isn’t in danger, okay?”
When we pull up to the building Nat has changed herself into that skin tight one piece she had on when you found out her true identity. If half of New York weren’t in danger you’d probably take her-
“Stay in the car Happy.” Nat called out as the two of you got out.
“I’m not staying in the car.” Happy called back.
“I said stay in the car.”
“What are you wearing?” Happy asked.
“Don’t ask. Just stay here Happy. Nat and I got this.” The two of us slipped inside. Working out a small plan before actually starting to attack anyone the two of you happened to come across. As you watched her in action for the first time you were simply amazed by her movements, her agility, just everything about her and you were lucky enough to call her yours?
Just as you were getting lost in thought one of Vanko’s guards came up, but the black tendrils of your tattoos came out. Wrapping around the guards throat just until he passed out from lack of oxygen. The two of you taking down guard after guard as you make your way to Vanko. Natasha pulled out two pistols as she kicked the door in, but Vanko was gone. Just two more of the guards hanging from the ceiling.
“He’s gone.” Natasha stated.
“Fuck.” You cursed, your hands balling into fists as the tattoos moved and itched. Natasha pushed further into the room. Getting up to the computer and started typing as you came up just behind her and to the side. Watching what she was doing. “Are you hacking back into Rhodey’s suit?” You asked getting a short ‘mhmm’ in response. Your eyebrows knitted together. “I didn’t know you could hack.” She threw you a look over her shoulder, a smirk playing on her lips.
“There’s a lot you still need to learn about me cupcake.” It was the way she worded it that made you smile.
“Tony.” Natasha looked at the screen where you could see your father’s face. “Got your best friend back.”
“Thank you very much Agent Romanoff.” Tony saying a meaningful thank you was something you hadn’t heard in a while.
“Well done with the new chest piece.” Natasha commented. “I am reading significantly higher output and your vitals all look promising.”
“Yes, for the moment, I’m not dying. Thank you.” Tony spoke through the comms and you smiled, wrapping and arm around Natasha.
“I’m happy to hear another parent won’t be dying on me.” You joked, but Natasha looked at you and narrowed her eyes.
“Dying? What do you mean? Did you just say you were dying?” Pepper’s face popped up on another monitor, butting into the conversation.
“Is that you? No, I’m not. Not anymore.” Tony replied. You and Natasha exchanged looks and decided not to get involved for the moment.
“What’s going on?”
“I was going to tell you. I didn’t want to alarm you.”
“You were going to tell me? You really were dying.” As the bickering went back and forth a few moments longer before Natasha interrupted finally.
“Hey, hey. Save it for the honeymoon. You got incoming Tony. Looks like the fights coming to you.”
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You sat nervously in an abandoned warehouse Fury had set up in. He had asked for you first; alone. Which made you nervous, your leg wouldn’t stop and all the tattoos moved around, twitching incessantly at your anxiety. You looked at the monitors Fury had set up and the news once again talking about ‘Shadow Queen and Iron Man.’ A hard dry swallow came along with it at the moment.
A few manilla folders sat on the desk in front of you with the S.H.I.E.L.D logo and all caps just underneath it, AVENGERS INITIATIVE followed by an empty space and then PRELIMINARY REPORT. Suddenly Fury’s hand is in front of you pushing the folder back onto the table, making your tattoos come off your body and stopping just before you hit him.
“Fuck! You scared me Fury.”
“Sorry little Stark. Just don’t need you lookin at that just yet.” You slowly nodded at him, licking your dry lips. “I don’t know if you’re ready for it just yet.” Your brows knitted together.
“Why don’t you tell me first, then we can figure it out together.” You offered and he laughed.
“You trying to negotiate with me little Stark?” A smile cracking on his face.
“I always negotiate. You know who my parents are don’t you?” You raise an eyebrow, but you aren’t expecting the answer you receive.
“Y/D/N Y/L/N died at at 32 in a car accident caused by your powers awakening. Y/M/N Y/L/N died at at 29 in the same car accident. The three of you were on your way into the city to go see a play on Broadway. You weren’t too interested in going and as you started to throw a tantrum over staying back at home with your nanny a sudden burst of energy came out of you, manifesting in what you now call your tattoos. After they came out of you, you accidently tore through,”
“STOP!” Your tattoos shifted uncomfortably at the memory you hadn’t thought about it in a few years. You had buried it away, pretended it never happened.
“You tore through both your parents ending their lives in an instant.” Fury finished and you felt bile rise up that you swallowed back down. “Then the injuries you sustained which were minimal due to your tattoos protecting you you had been left to your father’s best friend and originally your Godfather, Tony Stark.”
“Please...stop. I don’t need my life rehashed.” You pleaded.
“Look at this. Agent Romanoff’s assesment of you.”
“Is...is that really?”
“Read. It.” You sighed and took the folder opening it. Skimming through,
“Okay Y/N Stark takes much after her adoptive father in many aspects, but had many caring tendencies to look after and take care of others even at the young age she is. She is kind, caring, and loving to those around her even when she’s just met you.” You carry on reading until you see it. Y/N Stark a.k.a Shadow Queen has a lot of heart and could be a liability to herself and others due to her caring nature.” You read the last line again. “No. No that isn’t fair. She’s saying that becasuse she doesn’t want me out there! She’s saying this because she cares about me. She told me she can’t loose me and this is her way of trying to stop me!” You slammed your hands down and stood up.
“I know. She told me her reasoning. Told me it was the one time she couldn’t put her feelings to the side. I’ve known Romanoff for many years now and never has she had trouble putting her feelings to the side. So I am giving the yes.” You looked up at Fury.
“You are?” You asked a little shocked.
“Yes. I am. Do not make me regret it little Stark. You’ve trained for a long time and now it’s time for you to stand in the spotlight. Little girls are already looking up to you.” Fury patted your back letting you know you could leave. You had to go talk with Nat about this.
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“So he still let you join?” The two of you were laying down, she was on her back and you snuggled into her side. For once you two were both in comfortable clothes. Her hair down and slightly messy with a tank top and sweats. While you were in leggings and an old iron maiden t-shirt. Her fingers running through your hair.
“Yes. I’m still not happy you tried to stop me.” You grumbled against her.
“I know and I still stand there on it.” You roll your eyes and bite at her shoulder making her moan out. “Hey. Behave.” She reprimands and pushes her fingers against your lips. You willingly take those instead. “I don’t want you risking it out there for the wrong people or reasons.” You nodded in understanding. “I can’t lose you.” Her voice was soft and her eyes bore into you. You let her fingers go, cupping her cheek before leaning up and kissing her. It was a soft kis where you two moved your lips against each other slowly and just enjoyed the moment before you pulled away.
“You won’t lose me. I promise.” You placed your foreheads together as she accepted the answer for now though you knew she’d still always worry. You’d never let her know just how worried she made you. She’s a black widow, but she was still a human with no enhancement unlike you. Your tattoos were instinctive to protect you and those you care about. “I’m not going anywhere Tasha.” You reassured her with another kiss as the two of you melted into each other, finally getting to just enjoy each other after the past month of activities that had occurred and you were hopeful for more time like this with her for at least a little while before Fury called up one of you. You could only hope though.
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selineram3421 · 1 month
Text
*sleepy*
Courting Pursuit
Part 2
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Part 1
Alastor X Deer Reader
Warnings ⚠
⚠ gender neutral (gn) reader, mule deer reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, Spanish translated, stalking-Vox, cussing, implied/suggestive, italics=thoughts, ha..watch out for the end ⚠
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You continued to act affectionate towards him.
Even the others noticed and most of them would often ask you to do their work if it was related to him.
Niffty doesn't care and does her work as usual.
The thing is, you don't mind one bit and take up the work.
"Hola Alastor.", you'd greet him every time.
Today you were helping someone else, Husk to be exact, putting away some bottles in storage.
And then he heard that obnoxious voice of the sad excuse of an entertainment performer through his radio next to the television shop, Vox.
"Top of the hour! Today I have a special little treat for you, though the image is sadly glitched out, you can still see what is going on in the photo.", he says. "It's the Radio Demon, receiving an affectionate peck on the forehead from another deer!"
What a creeper. Alastor rolled his eyes and waited for the perfect moment to jump in and make the flat headed piece of tech look like a complete fool.
"From the looks of things, Alastor has a fuck buddy.", the TV demon grinned. "Wouldn't be surprised if he was taking it from behind.", he laughed and continued to rant on about innuendos like an idiot.
Turning a few knobs and flipping some switches, the Radio Demon was live.
"Salutations!", he greeted his listeners. "What an interesting start to the day! An overly cocky man acting like a news anchor when he doesn't have all the facts!", his smile widens. "For a demon asking his viewers to trust him, it's quite bold that he so blatantly lies to their faces."
"That's bullshit! I only provide the best-"
"Vox is so insecure and craving for attention from a powerful Overlord like myself, it's obvious that he's jealous.", Alastor laughed.
"Am fucking not you old timey prick-!"
"Why would he make such an announcement if not for that? Its clear to me that he wants someone to focus on him all the time.", he chuckles. "No wonder he always something new on his screens. But they lack so much that he has to resort to childish news broadcasts to seem important."
"Childish!?"
"As for the demon in the photo, that is a hotel guest and they do not understand English that much. There was a misunderstanding in translation and well..I'm not allowed to kill hotel guests.", then his voice switches. "This does not mean that I will let such an action pass, I will do something mμc# ₩θrs€ than death."
"You lying piece of shit! Tell me them the truth!"
"I should announce that the Hazbin Hotel has its doors open for all sinners who want a shot at redemption! Try to climb your way out of this fiery inferno, some might try to drag you back down, or you'll have trouble all on your own trying to redeem yourself! Anything is possible!", he put in his two bits for advertising the hotel. "And with that my wonderful listeners, I shall bid you all adieu~"
He switched on some jazz, not wanting to hear anymore of Vox's whining.
Something still irked him however..
Perhaps I should pay Rosie another visit. He thought. This time without them knowing.
As soon as he walked through the door of the emporium, his friend waved him over and pointed to her office, letting him know that she'd be there soon.
Once entering the office, he sighed and sat on the couch, already tired of what else would happen later in the day. He didn't want any other unnecessary conversations.
Rosie entered the office not too long after, setting her hat aside as she closed the door.
"You won't believe the gossip I've stumbled across today. Betty, the one with the pooch, not the one with the scar. She-", the woman started but then took notice of his mood. "What's wrong? You look worn out already."
"I don't know what to do with them. Vox, that piece of shit tech, has already made comments but I already put him in his place.", he sighed and ran a hand down his face.
"I heard.", Rosie let out a short laugh.
"The deer is still doing things, not as bold as the first time but I don't want them near me. It's-", he growled and made a choking motion with his hands.
"If it's bothering you that much, you know you can tell them to stop.", she says.
He looks up at her with a wide eyed stare.
She dead pans.
"Alastor. You know you can tell them to stop. Right?"
"The thought hadn't crossed my mind.", he simply says.
"Oh for crying out loud-!", she tosses a pillow at him. "You are unbelievable! Go and speak your mind! You've never had a problem with it before!"
She was right. Why had he been so bothered about something like this?
He should have spoken up about it from the start.
It was late when he returned to the hotel. The lobby was empty and he could only assume that everyone had long been asleep. Walking to the dining room, he spots the kitchen light on.
Angel is probably making an abomination of a hangover cure- He thought and opened the door, only to find the mule deer leaning against the counter half asleep.
You perk up when noticing him.
"Bienvenido. Hice la cena y te guardé un plato.", you wave and smile. (Welcome back. I made dinner and saved you a plate.)
"What are you doing up at this hour? Granted, it is Hell and there are barely any rules around here, sleep is still important.", he says as you pick up a plate covered with tin foil.
Taking off the foil, you give him a plate of food.
Your fingers brush against his, making him flinch back and drop the plate, causing it to shatter on the floor with a loud crash.
Instead of focusing on the mess, you looked at him with worry.
"¿Estás bien? No estás herido, ¿verdad-?", you reach out to him but he smacks your hand away. (Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you-?)
"Don't touch me.", he hisses out. "I am not comfortable with your advances, so I advise you to stop NOW before I tear you apart and make you into tomorrow's dinner."
With that you took a step back.
"No quería incomodarte. Me detendré. Perdóname por no tener en cuenta tus sentimientos.", you muttered and looked away. (I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I will stop. Forgive me for not taking your feelings into account.)
Alastor didn't bother trying to translate your response in his head, just walking around you and to the door.
"Lo siento.." (I'm sorry..)
He heard you whisper as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone.
With a sigh, you kneeled down and began to clean the mess.
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Sad times means cookies.
~Seline, the person.
Part 3
Taglist@
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ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌
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loveemagicpeace · 2 months
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💕Life Events🌊
💕4th house represents how u live and your comfort & how you are used to living - Taurus in 4th house - means you are used to comfort, money, luxury and material things. Which means that you like a home that is luxurious, in which you feel safe and warm. It would be difficult for you to live with someone who would not give you comfort. You like to take time for the things you like and you really don't like it when people chase you or give you the feeling that you are limited by time. Especially if your moon is in Cancer, it's hard for you to be with someone who doesn't have that nature.
Aries in 4th house - you are most used to your home being fiery, warlike and often able to do things for yourself. U are very independet and maybe you will find your home faster. Aquarius in 4th house- u may always feel like outsider in your family. But at the same time you will feel that you want to live a very unique life. And you will feel comfortable only in an environment that will be very different from normal.
🌊Water moons are often nostalgic. Which means that in some way they will always be looking for something that reminds them of the past and memories. Many times they can live for memories and people in their memories.
🏝️Geminis & libras will always be subject to society. And sometimes it will be difficult for them to go outside of it. Especially libra , it is difficult for you to be something other than what society expects of you. Because you want to impress others and you want them to be happy. Both signs are strongly associated with relationships and communication.
✨Aquarius are the only sign that knows how to be something that others don't dare to be. They like to go outside their comfort zone and like to be different from the others, not many times they do something that is the opposite of what society does.
❤️‍🔥Sagittarius can easily talk about illegal things - it's not a taboo topic for them. They like discussions that are more dangerous or not so loud. They themselves are also very open to the world and other cultures and can quickly adapt to other surroundings. People with a lot of Sagittarius live a hectic life with lots of adventure and exploration. They usually move at least once, if not several times.
💛The situation of the Sun in the birthchart often relates to the individual’s experience of the father—not necessarily the actual father, but all the people who played that role. Often the mother will actually play the father role, in which case it is that relationship which will be symbolized by the Sun.
🍸The 6th house denotes sickness, your body , your relationship with the body, how you take care of your body. The 8th house surgery, death, needles, blood. The 12th house hospitalization, isolation from people, prison.
🦋Scoprio North Node- have the ability to "tune in" to the hidden thoughts of others. When they stand near someone, if they open up to receive that person's energy they will know his or her character and motives. They want to "fix" the other person—their way. They have many ideas about how to alleviate the other's pain and better the situation. These folks know how to create success. However, if they get a bad feeling or begin to lose energy, it's a warning. It’s important for these folks to pay attention to people's motives. They project that others operate from the same values and are always being honest. But when they take the time to study people's motives, they can tell what people pretend to be and what they really are.
🎸Fire is an emotional element, but it tends toward the more active and dynamic emotions—anger, joy, ebullience, and enthusiasm. It has a harder time dealing with sadness, depression, or the kind of feeling that comes from quiet contemplation of one’s surroundings. Fire people do not like to show sadness or grief: their typical response is to make fun of their own unhappiness. 
🪐Symbol earth, signifies limits to our freedom (in which regard the element earth is related to the planet Saturn). We cannot do whatever we wish or go wherever we want because we are constrained by our own materiality and the materiality of the world around us. Earth is passive: it needs to be acted on and formed by an external energy. Virgo and Capricorn especially are inclined to sacrifice emotional needs when these come into conflict with their view of reality. 
☁️Air is associated with thinking and logic, and as such it is less personal than fire.In this way air is similar to earth: both are primarily concerned with a reality external to the self. Fire and water are more concerned with personal, inward kinds of truth. Although air is very social, it is sometimes unable to handle real intimacy well. Libra is the only air sign in which the drive for close, personal relationships is strong, but even here there is a detached, non-intimate quality often obscured by the cleverness of the sign at being winning in social encounters.
🌙Water is the most yin of the four elements. And it is in some ways the most difficult to understand. The water people are poor at communication or unwilling to communicate. Because water represents non-linear, non-rational, non-discriminative modes of thought—the very antithesis of air. Water is the best at feeling relationships and the ways every thing interacts with every other thing. Often the best way for water to communicate is by means of art, especially poetry and music. Water people therefore have to live in a relatively clean psychic environment. If they are surrounded by disturbed people, water types will pick up the disturbance as if the energies originated within themselves. In this way, a water person can be made to feel physically and/or psychologically ill even when actually very well. More than any other element water is associated with the soul—the eternal, unchanging background that exists forever, against which the drama of individual life is played.
🌱Mercury creates smells, sounds, tastes, textures, and the like. In this way we are quite literally the creators of our own experience. All our knowing, experiencing, sensing, believing, or disbelieving is done through signs which represent actual facts, experiences, or entities in our minds.
🥊In a healthy body, Mars represents the vigor and vitality of movement, and especially the muscles. But it can also manifest as irritations, inflammations, infections, and fevers. Mars can be one of the principal significators of operations and accidents.
🫧Mars and Saturn rules over tattoos, needles, blood everything related to that. People who have dominant Mars sign or a lot of Mars energy/ aries energy or people who have Capricorn placements or Saturn energy are usually more more prone to have tattoos or piercings.
🎱The difference between Capricorn and Virgo is the Capricorn rules over success, image, public speaking everything that is related to public, but it's not related to appearance and how you look. Capricorns don't care how they look, but how their energy comes forward. Virgo on the other side rules over physical body so they are more prone to worry about how they look and how their clothes look like.
☂️Jupiter has also been associated with medicine and healing, the reintegration of the body after illness or prevention of bodily disintegration.
💍Juno is associated with marriage and partnership between the sexes. I find that, especially in women’s charts, it often indicates an ambivalence about whether to be associated with someone or to be free. In a man’s chart, it often describes the kind of marital partner he will choose.
🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸
-Rebekah🫧🌙☁️
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hotvintagepoll · 7 days
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Propaganda
Natalie Wood (West Side Story, The Great Race)—She went through so much shit which I know can be said for all these women but Natalie really was a star and her death often overshadows her career and life. She could make you cry, but she also had the capacity to be incredibly funny which I think is lost on people.
Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.
This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Natalie Wood:
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Katharine Hepburn propaganda:
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I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual
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The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.
Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.
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she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot
Fancam link
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She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.
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God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely
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She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.
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She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)
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i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster
youtube
She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).
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Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!
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If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.
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Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.
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This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.
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aphroditelovesu · 5 months
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Winter Solstice | Yan!HOTD
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❝ 🐉 — lady l: Merry Christmas, my dear readers! I wish you a great day and a prosperous New Year! I hope you enjoy this Christmas special with our yandere family from HOTD! Good reading, forgive me for any mistakes and once again, have a great holiday to you ❤️🎄.
❝warnings: yandere themes, mention of death and obsessive and possessive behavior.
❝🐉word count: 1,941.
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A long, long time ago, when the Earth was young and the days were short, people looked up to the sky with wonder and awe. They watched the Sun rise and fall over the horizon, its heat bringing life to the earth and its dark nights bringing a deep sleep to the world.
In the ancient realm of the seasons, each cycle marked the eternal dance between light and dark. As winter approached, a whisper spread through nature. Leaves fell from the trees, animals sought shelter and the nights extended, enveloping the world in a blanket of darkness and cold.
It was the time of the Winter Solstice, a magical moment when the Earth seemed suspended between extremes. People gathered around campfires, telling stories of times gone by, sharing warmth and hope amid the impending darkness.
On the eve of the longest night of the year, eyes turned to the sky, waiting for the miracle. Slowly, the Sun began its journey towards the horizon, fighting the darkness with its golden light. The stars twinkled above, bearing witness to the celestial spectacle.
And then, in the most sublime moment, the Sun began to rise, rising majestically into the sky. The colors of dawn painted the landscape, and people celebrated the rebirth of the Sun, knowing that light and warmth would return to the world. It was a symbol of renewal, hope and the continuous cycle of life.
On the Winter Solstice, people came together to celebrate the courage of the light that faces the darkness, remembering that even in the darkest moments, there is always the promise of rebirth and the light that returns to warm the hearts and illuminate the souls ways.
It had always been your favorite time of year, you loved how the snow fell from the sky and painted everything white, the food, the exchange of gifts and most importantly, it was when your whole family was together. You appreciated more than anything the few moments of peace that your family spent during that date, all happy and together. Like a big, loving family.
Having them all together was what you loved most as you grew up. All the disputes, the fights seemed to disappear during this time of year. Your heart and mind were at peace.
The green of the forest and the fiery red of love and passion. Its fabric was as soft as a spring breeze, a harmonious blend of silk and cotton that moved like leaves dancing in the wind. The predominant green was reminiscent of treetops, its hue varying from a lush emerald green to softer nuances, like newborn buds. The waist was accentuated by a deep red belt, as if it were the blush of the petals of a passionate rose. The intense tone stood out, creating a magnificent contrast with the lush greenery, and a decorative bow added a touch of elegance.
Something beautiful and elegant, with both of your family colors. Of the Targaryens and the Hightowers. There was some small, discreet blue embroidery that symbolized the Velaryon, subtle but standing out in its own way.
You turned to your maid who was looking at you with affection, you smiled at her, ''What do you think, Diane?''
She smiled widely, ''You looked incredible, my princess/prince. A suitable choice for a dinner with your family.'' There was a hint of worry in her tone, but you just held her hands and squeezed them gently.
''Don't worry, Diane. Everything will be fine.''
She nodded, ''Yes... Do you want me to accompany you to where the banquet will be held?''
You politely denied, ''No, but thank you.''
A hint of disappointment flashed in her brown eyes, but she just smiled and after a simple bow, she left the room. You took a deep breath and looked at the ring that adorned your finger, a gift from your grandfather, Viserys. He was sick and you swore to yourself that you would do everything to make this dinner enjoyable for him. He deserved it.
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Just as you expected, everything was impeccable and your family was already waiting for you. A majestic dining room, adorned with golden chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting soft light on long solid wood tables.
The walls were covered with richly embroidered tapestries, depicting scenes from Targaryen history and grand festivities. The polished stone floor gleamed in the light of the torches that adorned the walls, reflecting the grandeur of the space.
In the center of the room, a long table stretched out, covered in an immaculate linen tablecloth and decorated with wildflower arrangements and heraldry of noble families. Silver candelabras exuded a soft glow, while golden goblets glittered in the dancing light of the flames.
Music filled the atmosphere as skilled musicians played lutes, flutes and harps, entertaining guests with happy melodies and lively dances.
''(Y/N)!'' Your mother's excited voice called out to you and you smiled at Rhaenyra, who quickly hugged you, placing her head against the crook of your neck, ''You look great, sweetheart.''
''Thanks, mom. You look great too.'' And indeed, she did. Rhaenyra wore a dark red dress decorated with gold that fit her perfectly. She pulled back a little and smiled at you.
''(Y/N)! We're here.'' On one side of the table, your younger brothers sat. You looked at Jacaerys, Lucerys, and little Joffrey, who were smiling at you. You kissed Rhaenyra's cheek and went to sit next to your brothers. Or you tried, for that matter.
For you were quickly pulled to the side as Aegon grabbed you and pulled you closer to him, Aemond, and Helaena. You smiled at your aunt and uncles and greeted them.
''Sit with us.'' Aegon asked and pointed to an empty chair next to Helaena who was smiling sweetly at you. You looked nervously at your brothers, who were staring at Aegon with disdain.
Aemond frowned and placed a hand over your shoulder, ''Come, stay with us.'' His tone said there was no room for argument.
Luckily for you, the doors opened and revealed Viserys along with Alicent, both smiling when they saw you. You apologized to your aunt and uncles and quickly walked over to your grandparents, helping Viserys sit down.
''Ah, (Y/N)... You look great!'' Viserys praised you, as soon as he sat down. You smiled at him and kissed his cheek in thanks.
Alicent pulled you into a tight hug, ''My husband is right, you look great. This shade of green suits you very well.'' She murmured and walked away hesitantly, adjusting your clothes. You kissed your face.
''Thanks. You look amazing too.'' She smiled in response and held your hands, squeezing them gently.
After a few minutes of talking to your grandparents, you walked over to your father and uncle, who were sitting next to each other. Laenor smiled widely and pulled you into a tight hug, not wanting to let go. He only let go when Daemon cleared his throat, irritated.
Laenor rolled his eyes and let go of you, staring at Daemon with an iron gaze. Daemon returned the same look and you acted quickly before they fought.
''Happy Solstice to you both.'' You said, twiddling your fingers nervously. Daemon smiled and patted you on the shoulder twice, pulling you into a hug. You hugged him back.
''Happy Solstice, my child.'' Laenor said after you and Daemon parted ways.
''Happy Solstice, (Y/N).'' Daemon said, looking at you softly. You thanked them and apologized as you left them, wanting to greet your other family members. You spotted Baela and Rhaena sitting near your brothers and quickly walked over to them.
''Finally. I thought you would never come and talk to us.'' Baela complained and got up from the chair and hugged you tightly, ''I missed you, cousin.''
You returned the hug tightly, smiling at her words, ''I missed you too, cousin.''
Rhaena cleared her throat and stood up, hugging you as you and Baela separated.
You smiled at the squeeze and said, ''I missed you too, Rhaena.''
Joffrey got out of his chair and jumped into your arms, laughing loudly when you caught him in a tight hug.
''You're getting too big for me to keep doing this.'' You laughed and rolled him over, placing him on the floor. Russing his dark hair, you smiled when he laughed. You hugged Luke, who seemed especially clingy today. Jace also hugged you tightly and wished you a Happy Solstice.
After talking for a while with your brothers and cousins, you went to greet your paternal grandparents. Rhaenys and Corlys were sitting next to Otto, oddly enough, and the three of them looked at you with affection.
''Grandmother.'' You kissed Rhaenys's cheek who kissed yours back.
''Grandpa.'' You hugged Corlys and he hugged you back and complimented the blue details on your outfit.
''Otto.'' You greeted your great-grandfather, who smiled warmly at you. He seemed relaxed and calm, more so than he normally was.
''Shall we have dinner in honor of this happy day?'' Viserys's loud voice sounded in the room and everyone focused on the King. There was a bit of tension about where you should sit, but you chose next to Viserys and Rhaenyra, who shook your hand under the table.
Servants brought silver trays loaded with delicious delicacies. Large roasts of meat browned on skewers, exuding a tantalizing aroma of exotic spices. Tables were adorned with fresh fruit, from crimson apples to juicy grapes, and freshly baked bread that looked like it had come straight from the oven.
Plenty of wine circulated among everyone and soon everyone was laughing and talking. Your heart felt lighter when you saw your entire family happy, getting along for the first time in a long time.
After the banquet, you all went to one of the rooms of the castle, where the gifts were. The exchange went well, you received gifts from everyone individually and you presented them with what you carefully chose. Ser Criston was present and you gave him a gift too, under the watchful eye of your family, a pure Valyrian steel sword. He smiled in thanks and said he would give you a gift later.
When it seemed like the exchange of gifts was over, Otto said, ''We have a special gift for you, (Y/N). From all of us.'' He gestured to your entire family, who looked on expectantly. You took the gift from his hand, a wooden box with gold details, which was well packaged.
As soon as you opened it, all the color in your face disappeared. It was a head, a human head. You felt like you were going to throw up when you recognized the head. Diane, your servant.
''W-What is this?!'' You groaned, the words stuck in your throat as you held the box, your legs shaking as terror invaded your body. Everyone seemed calm, even Viserys.
''This is our gift to you, my child.'' Rhaenyra said and approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder, ''To remind you not to approach anyone.''
''They can't be trusted,'' Alicent began to say, ''Diane couldn't be trusted. Criston was the one who cut off her head and Rhaenyra, Helaena and I cradled her. The choice of the box was Daemon's.''
They looked at you expectantly, as if they hoped you really liked the gift. Your hands were shaking so much that the box fell to the floor, Diane's severed head falling to the floor.
A perfect ending to a loving Winter Solstice with your family, from their perspective.
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runningfrom2am · 6 months
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leveling the playing field
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summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.5k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. anyway no warnings for you guys today besides maybe this is boring lol
masterlists // nav // requests
join my taglist here
a/n: young coryo has me in a death grip rn guys this could be a problem-
next part
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Fists clenched at your sides, you storm up to the front of the hall, staring intently at the Dean. You knew your odds were better pleading with Dr. Gaul, but that was a task far from your mind. "Miss Y/L/N, I don't have time for your petty complaints at the moment." He dismisses you before you even reach an appropriate distance to start your discussion.
"I was waiting for this." Festus chuckles, commenting on how none of the chosen mentors had a chance to process anything or even speak before you were stomping down the centre aisle, between all their seats, and up towards the podium where Dean Highbottom now stood.
Coriolanus found his gaze following you, despite his better judgment telling him to focus on the subject- scratch that, problem, at hand: his assignment of the mentorship of Lucy Gray Baird. She was fiery, that's for sure, and upon first impressions, she reminded him of you.
"You think I couldn't handle it, is that it?" You almost shout, discarding all formality in favour of getting answers. 
"You knew the qualifications, Miss Y/L/N." The Dean sighs.
"I got one B over a year ago! God, hold a grudge much? You're miserable!" People are staring now, noticeably, but you don't care. You're used to getting what you want, and the one time you don't, it comes back to bite you in the ass over a year later.
"Then you should have done better. Drop this or I'll demerit you." He states in response, clearly hardly caring. You huff, face red as you storm off again, making a point of slamming the door open so hard it hits the wall with a bang.
Coriolanus never understood fully why the Dean let you parade around with this attitude directed at him, but never so much as lifted a finger to punish you. If he had made a scene like that, he would have been expelled on the spot. "I should go after her." He turns to look at Sejanus as he's getting up, quickly gathering himself to follow after you. He had little interest in staying anyway.
"I'll go." Coriolanus stands, placing his hand on Sejanus' chest to stop him. "You stay. I'll sort her out."
"Coriolanus Snow, off to sedate his girlfriend again." Arachne teases as he walks off, leaving Sejanus to defend his name in his stead. He'd much prefer talking you down to uselessly explaining to the other kids in your class that the two of you were nothing more than friends. It was a wasteful endeavour. You were just the only one who's presence he could stand in a social capacity.
You made it outside, pacing the large front steps of the academy, fighting the urge to rip off your skirt and burn it right there. Along with the rest of the building.
"Y/N." You pause when you hear the door close behind someone, looking up to see your friend.
"Coryo." You reply, continuing with your fruitless crusade at this point.
"What happened to not caring about the prize?" He asks, stepping down so he's level with you on the staircase, getting in your path so you can no longer pace.
"I don't care about the prize." You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's not about that."
"I doubt that." Coriolanus raises an eyebrow at you. You had told him at length you didn't care about the prize when you found out you weren't even in the running, because your parents could pay your tuition anyway. He envied your privilege, but he had never envied you.
"No, it's not." You insist. "I got one less than stellar grade one time and now I'm missing out on this opportunity- effectively throwing away any shot I have at Gamemaker."
"That's dramatic." Your friend replies. "I think you're better off than me."
You scoff. "Oh, boo hoo, Coriolanus Snow. I'd take Lucy Gray in a second."
"Just because she can cause a scene doesn't mean she'll last a minute in the games." He replies.
"Duh, it's not about winning. It's about the experience, it's about-"
"Being on TV?" He asks, and despite his serious expression you know it's a joke.
"Even you know I'm not that shallow. I'm not Arachne." You can't help but smile. He does too, for just a second. "And frankly, I'm offended at the insinuation."
"Then enlighten me, Y/N Y/L/N." Coriolanus prompts, and suddenly your demeanor changes in a way he would deem hardly noticeable if he hadn't known you for years.
You sigh, dropping your tense shoulders. "My father will be up in arms when he finds out." You answer, voice in a whisper despite being alone out here. "I'm an embarrassment to my family name."
"That's impossible." He shakes his head quickly. "You're their pride and joy. A gem of the Capitol."
"Ah, but for how long?" You reply, poking his chest. "Until the oldest Y/L/N child doesn't get a mentorship? Until my brother does in three years and I am an irrelevant face in the University halls and he is winning the Plinth prize?" The small smile on your face fades as you look down, thinking over the consequences for the first time.
"Perhaps, but one day that will come back to bite anyone who doubted you when you're the new head Gamemaker. I'll be sure of it." He nods, and your smile returns. 
"Coriolanus Snow, future President of Panem, I salute you." You giggle, raising your hand in a salute. You had heard his cousin say that to him once, two or three years ago by now, and you were not prepared to let it go. You can tell it was something he believed, despite the misshapen buttons on his dress shirt and the weight he'd steadily lost over all the years you'd known him. Who were you to deny him his ambitions? Everyone else was fooled, so you would act as though you were as well. The same way he had habitually ignored the bruises on your arms and under your makeup the day after you brought home that B grade last year.
He just nods in response, jokingly tugging at his vest in pride. 
"I hate to tell you that I will have to decline your generous offer." You say, and he looks confused. "I don't need your charity. I'll make it so you'd be a fool not to hire me, Mister President."
You sit down on the stairs, looking out at the city. He joins you a moment later, dusting off the ground beneath him before letting his clothes touch the surface.
"So, how are you feeling?" You ask, sick now of talking about yourself.
"Honestly, not great." Coriolanus answers. "She'll be first down, and I'll be out. We're about at odds with each other, I have no shot at the prize now."
"I don't know, Coryo." You smile a little, bumping his shoulder with your own as you try to reassure him. "Lucy Gray has a or two fight in her. I can tell."
"She reminds me of you, a little bit." 
"Is that a bad thing?" You chuckle.
"No." He shakes his head. "You never back down from a fight. Even if you should."
You laugh, turning a little to hide the burning in your cheeks. "I suppose I could see the resemblance. I'm no stranger to telling someone to kiss my ass."
"That's true." He nods, smiling but not quite laughing. You're not sure you could remember seeing him laugh, not since Felix fell down the stairs in the lecture hall a few years ago and screamed like a girl. "Maybe you could help me."
"Help you? How?" You ask, brow furrowed as you look over at him. Whatever it is you'll agree. He knows too much about you for you to deny him anyway, and it's not like you really had anything to lose. If you couldn't have the Plinth prize, you'd want it to go to Coriolanus.
"With Lucy Gray. I don't even know where to start, what to think, what to do." He explains.
"Well..." You think about it for a second. "If you want her to listen to you in any capacity, she'll have to trust you. So be nice. And maybe convince her to sing again. People were talking, that's what you want. It's the best you can do."
He nods, sitting up straighter. "Thank you, Y/N. I have to go." Before you can respond, he's gone back into the building behind you. You sigh, calmer now, despite dreading the prospective task of having to go home and face your father.
"Mister Snow, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Dr. Gaul asks, readjusting her gloves without looking up at the boy as she throws what he assumes to be some kind of food into a blacked-out tank in front of him.
"I'd like Y/N Y/L/N to be my partner in the mentorship," Coriolanus states, making her pause.
"Why?" She asks simply, resuming her task.
"I believe she would be an asset for Lucy Gray."
"They do have a similar... spark. Don't they?" Dr. Gaul nods a little bit to herself. "But what makes you think that this wouldn't be an unfair advantage?"
"It wouldn't be an advantage. More like an experiment." He answers, effectively piquing the doctor's interest. "We can observe the benefits and faults of two mentors versus one, moving into the next games, and the effect of choosing based on compatibility, rather than random, careless selection."
Dr. Gaul hums, wiping off her leather gloves with a cloth as she thinks it over. "And this would have nothing to do with your relationship and sympathies towards Miss Y/L/N, correct?"
"No." He shakes his head. "Miss Y/L/N certainly doesn't get any sympathy from me." It's not a lie, at least he doesn't perceive it to be. You would be an asset to his cause, to his deliverance of the prize, and likely the most pleasant person to work with, ironically.
"I will think about it." Dr. Gaul states. "But the prize will not be awarded to her in any capacity, you must understand."
Maybe he does feel bad for you. He's entitled to that prize, no doubt, but it's hard to picture a world where you wouldn't be the runner-up; even if that is his reality. "I understand." He nods, before turning to leave.
"Oh, and Mister Snow." Dr. Gaul draws his attention once more, causing him to stop and look back at her. "Don't let her charm you."
"Y/N!" You look up from your textbook toward the door, knowing your brother will be opening it any second after he calls you. Surely enough, he does. "Coriolanus Snow is here. He wants to speak with you."
"Can you show him up to the library?" You ask, quickly wiping your reddened eyes.
"He's there with dad already." Your brother tells you and you sniff, nodding a little bit. "Thank you. Tell them I'll be right there."
You quickly throw on a sweater, double-checking in the mirror that you don't look like you were just crying before leaving. Besides a little bit of redness around your eyes and blotchiness on your chest covered by the sweater, you should be okay.
"Well, thank you for extending your influence on my daughter's behalf. I owe you a great deal." You hear your dad speaking from down the hall as you get closer. "Though, I wouldn't fault you if you changed your mind. I understand she will be a burden on you."
"No, sir. It would be an honour to work with her." You hear Coryo say as you step into the door frame. 
You knock gently on the open door, alerting them both of your presence. "Y/N." Your father says, nodding toward your friend. "Coriolanus has pulled some strings to try and help you maintain what's left of your reputation."
You sniff and nod, looking over at Coryo as he stands across from your dad in your library, posture perfect like a soldier standing at attention. His professionalism will always impress you, it never falters in the presence of others. "Thank you." You make an effort to smile at him, which he politely and uncomfortably returns. "Could you give us a moment?" You request, returning your attention to your dad.
He nods and shakes Coryo's hand before bumping into you as he exits the room, pausing before leaning down to whisper to you.
Coriolanus watches, your eyes widening for just a moment while your dad speaks to you and then you nod, thanking him quietly before he leaves. You stand there awkwardly staring at each other for a second while you listen to his footsteps descend the stairs, and then hear the door to his study close. As soon as it does, you're quickly walking up to your friend and throwing your arms around his waist, your head leaning into his chest.
He freezes for a second before hugging you back. "Thank you, Coryo." You whisper. "I won't let you down."
"Are you okay?" He asks, resisting the urge to just rest his chin on the top of your head and pull you closer. It's been ages since he's been hugged like this, and though it's meant more as a comfort to you, it's consolatory to him as well.
You nod, snapping out of it and quickly pulling away, taking a respectful step back. "Yeah, yes. Sorry." You clear your throat, quickly readjusting your sweater.
"Don't be." He shakes his head quickly, brows still furrowed as he looks you over. He doesn't know what you came home to, but he has a strong theory as to what the cause of your tear-stained cheeks could be, and it certainly wasn't an empty fridge like his. 
You stare at each other for another moment before you look away. "Uh, so, you spoke to the Dean?"
"No, he despises me." He answers. "Dr. Gaul was more sympathetic to the cause."
"Dr. Gaul and 'sympathetic' have never been used in the same sentence before." You tease.
"Well, she likes us for some reason."
"Thank god." You chuckle, slightly shaking your head.
"But... seriously, are you okay?" He asks again, this time blatantly looking you over. While embarrassing, it does feel nice to see that someone cares, that someone noticed. The remnants of pity behind his eyes makes you almost ill.
"Fine." You nod in confirmation. "Would you like something to eat?" You offer, leveling the playing field.
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mulligans-tavern · 19 days
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https://www.tumblr.com/doomed-to-wanda/747617028751474688?source=share
Inspiration above
TW death, grief
---
Five Funerals
They lose Fig first.
Comes with the territory when you're an archdevil - somebody's always looking to take your spot. "Don't worry about it," she says, opening a Planeshift to the recording studio. "It's just the usual rebellious fiends. Icythorz and Bolhondrus and the rest. I'll be back before you know it." She looks resplendent in black leather, the Unfaithable Bass slung across her back, riding the fiery Daymare surrounded in jagged red shards.
Adaine knows before everyone else, but can't believe the vision to be true until she learns that Ayda is gone, too. She scratched every memory of Fig out of her notes before starting over - it was too much pain to bear. The five of them know how it feels.
---5---
It's a few years before they take another hit. Another mission to the Mountains of Chaos, another world-ending calamity to be stopped because Who Else Is Going To Save The World? A small misstep, a miscalculation (six where there should be five, they're only five now) and suddenly the routine becomes deadly.
Riz takes the fall. "It's easier this way," he says, in his last moments. "I'll still see you." And he does. Agent Gukgak Jr., now, with some extra responsibility. But he still comes by. Sometimes. Every so often. Often enough.
---4---
Kristen is next. Only one thing could bring down the most gifted cleric of the age - sacrificing herself for her friends. Third time's the charm when it comes to death, it turns out.
Gorgug is the most hopeful that she'll come back, that she'll find a way again, like in the Nightmare Forest. But Adaine knows this is the end. Even Arthur Aguefort agrees. He quotes Alanis Morissette at her funeral. The followers of Cassandra pull out all the stops.
Adaine, Fabian, and Gorgug have their own ceremony at Ashgrove, next to the Gukgak family plot. It's quiet. Bucky cries into Ragh's shoulder. Aelwyn, Jawbone, and Gertie collect flowers. Tracker stays for a few minutes to say goodbye.
---3---
They quit adventuring after Kristen's funeral. And they don't lose anyone else for a long time. Riz still visits, every few years. They talk about the good old days, how silly it was that Baron was so terrifying when at the end of the day it was an honest conversation that finally did him in. There's rumours that Kristen has ascended to goddesshood herself - Adaine doesn't buy it. She's not the type to be revered.
They come out of retirement for the only reason they would - to bring back one of their own. They finally found Fig's soul, trapped in a ruby in the darkest levels of the Abyss. They can't ask anyone to come with them - it's too dangerous, it's too personal. It's missions like this that kill people.
And when it's all over, when Adaine carries Fabian's burnt, unconscious body back to Morded Manor, they have another funeral to plan.
Gorbag and Roz have already passed, and Wilma and Digby are too old to make preparations, so it falls to Jawbone to organize it. He knows they don't want a lot of fanfare. It's at Ashgrove again, just Adaine and Fabian and the Thistlesprings, and Aelwyn and Ragh. Sandra-Lynn is back in Solace - she sends Adaine a heartfelt text saying she appreciates the invitation, but she can't bring herself to come.
Riz doesn't show for the ceremony - he's desperately scouring the heavenly realms, trying to make sure Gorgug ended up somewhere he wasn't afraid of. Orcish heaven doesn't have him, he reports, and neither does Cassandra.
If he's trapped in the Abyss with Fig, at least they have each other.
---2---
Adaine sees Fabian's death the night of Gorgug's funeral. She needs to prepare, she tells herself. She knows it's going to be hard. She needs all the time she can get, and she needs to know which goodbye will be their last.
They grow old together. Not romantically, although some speculate. Fabian becomes a multiclass advisor at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy. Adaine works in Bastion City as an archivist, with occasional trips to Fallinel for Oracle services. They go for vacations sometimes, but never for too long. The memories find them no matter where they go. Sometimes Adaine wishes she could be Ayda, scrape off the old wounds and start fresh. Arthur talks about her sometimes. She's never had the same spark as that one lifetime, he says.
Adaine watches the wrinkles grow beside Fabian's eye, watches his hair turn grey, watches the Future of Dance become its Mentor. He trades his Battlesheet for a cane-sword, then a regular cane. He takes to wearing the Gregorian necktie to classes, no matter how much it clashes with his outfit. They both wonder how many of their own teachers lost party members.
Adaine holds Fabian's wrinkled hand on his deathbed, in his old room at Seacaster Manor. He grins, flashes the same perfect teeth as on the first day of Freshman Year. "Bet you didn't see this one coming, did you?"
"I did," she whispers, tears streaming down her young elven face. "I knew it would end like this. But I always hoped it would last forever."
They're the last words he hears.
It's not the first funeral Adaine organizes. All the Bad Kids held one for Buddy Dawn, back in high school. She and Fabian worked together on the services for Jawbone, Ragh, and Chungledown Bim - who finally caught up to Fabian in both of their old ages. It is the first funeral she has to organize alone.
Some of Fabian's students attend. Arthur Aguefort gives a short speech, and a few students hear the story of Kalvaxus' return for the first time. Adaine sits with Aelwyn in the front row, a few seats down from Hallariel. Gilear records the service to show Telemaine later. Riz is somewhere deep undercover - he maybe hasn't even heard yet.
She always knew she'd be the last. She didn't expect it to hurt so much.
---1---
Adaine stumbles through a few years before she finds herself again. They pass so fast without a mortal lifespan to hold up against them. She drifts between Fallinel and Bastion City for the most part, with occasional return trips to Elmville. Aelwyn always has a place for her to stay. Seacaster Manor was turned into a dormitory for Aguefort students who needed a place to study, or sleep, or stay away from home for a while. Tracker converted Morded Manor into a temple/bed-and-breakfast for worshipers of Galicaea. Strongtower Luxury Apartments was demolished soon after Fabian started teaching at Aguefort. It seems like everything is different now.
Adaine visits Leviathan once, on a whim. The Compass Points hasn't changed a bit. On a chance meeting in the stacks, Ayda looks at her with a spark of familiarity.
"Adaine Abernant?"
"Yes... you remember me?"
Ayda shakes her head. "There are mentions of you in my journals. I leave journals for when I regenerate-"
"I know. I remember."
Ayda looks intrigued. "I wrote that you were a great wizard, and a good friend. I hear from other sources that you are the Elven Oracle. Perhaps you can shed some light on why the pages around yours are torn to shreds or redacted to the point of unreadability?"
Adaine places a gentle hand on Ayda's shoulder. "I don't know if you'd want that. You lost someone you cared about, so much that you thought it was better to forget her than to bear the pain of losing her."
Ayda considers this. "Is it better to forget?" she asks. "Would you give up the memories of those you lost, in order to keep a logical mind?"
"No. Not for anything."
"Then we should talk."
Adaine smiles. "I'd like that."
---2---
*end
Thanks for reading all the way through! I wrote most of this at 2am and the conclusion the next morning. Please take a reblog to share with your friends or drop a like to let me know you enjoyed - or hated - the story!
Ask me anything about it, please, I love discussing these kinds of theories!!!
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avatarkv · 1 year
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IV ! Mom, am I still young? Can I dream for a few months more?
✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing. ( First | Second | Third | Fourth | Fifth )
Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 4070)
Song: Class of 2013, Mitski.
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A mother’s love is of all things.  
“You start from here,” Her gentle hands moved across the cloth as she showed you how to make the first stitch, her voice encouraging as she patiently talked you through every step. You listened to her instructions, your tiny fingers following every gesture, but your mind drifted off to somewhere and Neytiri was well aware of that. 
"Mama, how much longer will this take?" You whined, your lips pursed in a pout as you discarded the rag. It was taking far too long for your liking and you were more than ready to be finished, but your mother's stern gaze was enough to stay put.
“Until you finally get it.” She sighed, knowing well that you wanted nothing but to run to your father and Neteyam. Neytiri could see clearly that you wanted nothing more than to train with them, learning all that Jake had to teach, and while she was relieved that you were so eager, she couldn't help but feel a little left behind.
You furrowed your brow as you looked down at the mangled fabric in front of you, feeling frustration coursing through your veins. "I don't like sewing," You sighed quietly to yourself, trying to undo the mess of stitches and start again from scratch.
A mother’s love could be quite petulant. Neytiri could feel the insecurity settling at the pits of her stomach, thinking about how his mate was doing a much better job at parenting. She was never able to keep you in one place, always wriggling uneasily on your chair and asking for the time so you can go, so she was often left with no other choice than to give into your demands and watch as you ran away from her.
It was silly, you were just a child– what child wouldn't want to be outside where the world was theirs to explore?
With another sigh, Neytiri placed a hand to your shoulder in understandment. She gave you a gentle squeeze,  “You know where your father is, go on.” 
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A mother’s love could be fiery– burning brightly like a wildfire in her heart. It was a force that drove her to do anything she could to ensure the wellbeing of her children, even if it meant making difficult decisions that brought pain to herself.
When you once came home, battered and bruised, of course she did not relent. 
“What was the only thing I asked?” She carefully tended to your wounds, despite the frustrated tears streaming down your face. With a sigh of exhaustion, she reminded you in a rough whisper, “To be careful!” 
“I don’t let you run off with your father and Neteyam for you to carelessly train yourself,” She continued to scold you, “Now look at you, do you know how long these bruises will heal?” you hung your head low in shame, not wanting to meet her angry gaze. You felt guilty for making her worry and were immediately overcome with remorse.
“For this, you are not allowed to train for two weeks,” She said sternly, “Not until these heal, you understand?”
“But mama,” You tried to change her mind, but the look she gave was enough to let you know that she wasn’t going to tolerate any argument on the matter. You begrudgingly nodded your head in agreement with a frown. 
“I love you, ma’ite,” When you didn’t reply, her heart sank a little. She knew you would resent her for this while the duration of your punishment stretches on, but she was only looking out for you– besides, there was no way she was going to let you train all sore. You’d understand when you’re older. 
Neytiri would do anything if it means everyone would be safe. 
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A mother’s love is of all things, but above all, the love she had rooted from no other else but her own children. 
When you once came forward with a present, she was curious. It wasn’t like you didn’t lend any gifts at all, if anything, you were the most thoughtful with giving; always coming home with trinkets from your training, colorful beads from a lazy stroll, or even rocks with the weirdest of shapes. But you were most excited with this one, a smile growing every second as you waited for Neytiri to grab the wrapped box. 
“What is this?” She had her eyebrow quirked up high in curiosity, a tiny smile fighting to stay suppressed.
“Open it, come on!” You squealed, trying hard not to open it yourself. 
“You made this?” She said, looking at the well-made shawl– actually, it was messy. The stitches weren’t as straight and there were holes larger than the others, a few smaller, but the ornaments sewn between the threads were no doubt from you. To her, it was the most beautiful thing ever; it was from you. 
“I did!” You beamed, chest puffing out proudly, “Well.. maybe I cheated a little. Grandmother helped me, but all the beads there are from me! See those?” You excitedly gestured to each and every trinket, going with great detail into how and where you got them. She asked questions along the way, marveling at how eager you were to tell her of your adventures. 
While you were keen on your work, her eyes were only on you, listening intently. 
“So.. do you like it?” 
Neytiri burst into a fit of giggles as she embraced you tightly, her head resting against the little space on your neck. “I love it, Ma’ite– I love you.” she whispered softly.
You returned the hug, “Does this mean I’m done with sewing?”
“Don’t push it.” 
It didn’t matter whether you were with Jake most of the time– she wanted to tell him how wrong he was to tell her you were a daddy’s girl. Neytiri received a shawl from you– a shawl. It’s safe to say that maybe you loved her a bit more than Jake. 
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While her love was indescribable, there were no exact words for her anguish too. When Neteyam died, it was nothing but loss. No mother should have to bury their child. It weighed heavily on her– so heavy, a piece of her died along with him. Neytiri felt it in every pore of her being, a dull ache that could never be filled no matter how much time passed. 
Neteyam, her first born and first loss. 
The same anguish was apparent on you too and she wasn’t blind to that fact. 
You were carefully tending to the different herbs on the corner of your pod. You placed them in the mortar, crushing it with a pestle between your fingers and frowning with concentration. You had asked Neytiri if you could stay behind and help with chores and while she did need an extra pair of hands, it was also an excuse to get out from training for the day.
Neytiri knelt beside you, her grip on your hand preventing you from mashing the already mashed ingredients in the bowl. She looked into your eyes with genuine concern, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “What’s troubling you, ma’ite?” She asked softly. You sighed heavily in response while setting the bowl down slowly.
When you didn't answer, she asked again. “Neteyam?” Your breathing hitched and that was all the answer she needed. 
“It’s been over a month already,” You started, unable to look at her, “I don’t wanna mourn anymore. I don’t wanna cry– Tuk, she,” 
“I know. I heard.” You were struck with a wave of embarrassment as you abruptly turn to face her, realizing now that you weren't as silent as you had wished that night. You shook your head, trying to push down the shame. 
“I’m the eldest now and she’s tougher than me, it’s really a slap on the face.” 
Neytiri sits in front of you, taking both your hands in her own. She looks at you steadily with a piercing and gentle gaze, “Have you ever thought that maybe the reason why it isn’t letting you rest is because you haven’t mourned him properly?” Unable to process her words, you look up to her with a confused expression, beckoning her to continue. “All you have ever done is cry– blame yourself for what has happened. That is not mourning, you are simply wallowing in self-pity.” 
“It’s not easy,” You quickly interject, shaking your head with a hint of frustration.  
“And it’s not supposed to, but you’re here trying to stop yourself from feeling.” She soothes the skin of your hands with gentle rubs, trying to calm you down. “Have you ever visited him after what had happened?” 
She was met with only silence and again, it was all the answer she needed. With a heavy sigh, Neytiri gently pulls you closer to her, “Ma’ite, maybe it’s time you talk to him. You aren’t letting his soul rest either,” She whispers, “You’re making him wait.” 
“I’m sorry.” You murmur, burying your head into your mother's arms. Despite feeling a little embarrassed by the sudden display of emotion, you can't deny the comfort it brings. Neytiri holds onto you tightly, as if she too needed this moment just as much as you did. 
After a few more minutes, she nudges you softly, “I’m going to get more herbs,” With another kiss to your temple, she squeezed your shoulders and stood up. 
Neytiri’s words hit you hard– she was right. You have never put an effort to visit your brother, let alone talk to him. The realization was like a punch in the gut; while you were trying so hard to put as much space between you, Neteyam remained waiting. 
You had to talk to him, had to tell him everything before your heart could hold no more. It didn’t matter if he was angry anymore, nor if he would have blamed you for what had happened. You missed your brother– missed him like a little kid.
You stood up, taking your woven satchel– but before you could take another step out the door, Jake enters with a disheveled Lo’ak behind; it was clear that he got into a fight, the bruises on his face and body was enough to tell. “What was the one thing I asked?” Jake asks, scanning the area to check if anyone had followed them, “The one thing!”
“Look, dad. Ao’nung was picking on Kiri,” Lo’ak defends himself, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “They called her a freak.” 
“And you! Where were you? Weren’t you supposed to be training?” His tone is harsh and demanding, cutting off any chance to interject. Jake turns to you, livid,  “I catch you over here slacking off while this knucklehead is giving them a passage to kick us off the island– Jesus Christ, you’re the eldest now!” 
“I’m sorry, sir, this is my fault.” You replied, unable to meet his gaze. “I should’ve been keeping an eye on everyone.”
“Damn right. I catch a break for one second– one second!” He continued to berate and you could only hang your head low. “You’re supposed to be like Neteyam, but ever since we got here, all you’ve done is disappoint me. You disappoint me, __.”
“But I wasn’t just slacking, I was helping with–” 
“I don’t wanna hear it.” He immediately turns back to Lo'ak. He badly wanted to come to your defense, but something about Jake's steely gaze made him think twice. His lips quiver as he struggles against the urge to speak, feeling frustrated. “Go apologize to Ao’nung.”
“It’s not fair, dad! They were–”
He quickly dismisses him like he did with you, “Go make peace. I don’t know how, just go.” 
Lo’ak was the first to move, his footsteps heavy as he walked out. Before you followed, you glanced one last time at Jake, trying to look for any trace of remorse in his eyes. All you found was the same stoic expression. With a sigh, you trudged behind your brother.
Once you both were far enough from your Marui, you quickly grabbed Lo’ak’s wrist, stopping him from walking further. “Stay here,” 
He gave you a perplexed look as you firmly held him, “I’m supposed to be making amends.”
“I’ll do it myself so for once, stay here and  just do nothing.” Your mind was clouded, absolutely heavy from your father’s words. With another frustrated sigh, you let go of him. “What were you thinking?” 
“What do you mean?” His tone was laced with a mixture of guilt and defiance, shoulders tense. 
“You know damn well, Lo’ak.” The laugh that erupted from your mouth is menacing– mean. You grabbed his shoulders and spun him, forcing him to look at you. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He quickly shrugs your grasp away, his gaze downcast. Lo’ak couldn’t bear to even glance at you, not when you’re looking at him like that. It was so unlike you to be angry, usually you were the most patient– understanding. Right now, your eyes held nothing but exhaustion and it was like you were a different person yourself, morphing into someone he terribly misses. 
God, he misses his brother. Now that he’s gone, things are a lot worse– he didn’t even know that it was possible to feel more alone. There was no one who’d put on an effort to cheer him up despite him royally fucking up, no one to mess with his hair, or to stand up for him. With Neteyam, he was sure he understood him so well– with Neteyam, he was still a child. Lo’ak swears he also died that night, heart buried along his back at home. His younger self has not stopped crying ever since, shouting at him, asking, “It’s our fault again, is it?”
“You would have done the same,” He tries to reply with the same fierceness, but his voice is breaking. “Maybe if you were there, you would have even thrown in a punch too–” 
You spun him again irritatedly, “But I’m not like you. It’s different here, you understand?” Your voice was getting louder– growing absolutely desperate with every word. “You aren’t thinking!” That stunned the both of you and you couldn’t help but feel a nauseating deja-vu the moment it left your mouth. It was familiar, oh so familiar it hurt.
“What has gotten into you?” Before he could wait for a reply, you had already stormed off, leaving him right in the open.
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It wasn’t hard to find Ao’nung, being the olo’eyktan’s son made him stand out easily. They were at the shore and unlike Lo’ak, you could see how they’ve gotten the end of the punches more badly. You tried not to visibly wince at the huge deep-purple bruise forming on his face and the others littered all over his body– yikes. 
You knew he deserved this. Ao’nung wasn’t the kindest ever since you had seeked uturu so you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Despite this, he didn’t relent. 
 “I’ll forgive you once you are able to ride an Ilu,” he said, and his friends snickered from behind, “But you still can’t, right? What would father do if he hears that none of the Sullys’ had gone out to apologize.” 
You clench your fists, digging your nails into your palms as they continue to ridicule you; you wanted to retaliate with the same harshness Lo’ak had, but you knew you had to keep composure. Oh Great Mother, the urge was strong. “All I have to do is ride an Ilu?” 
“Don’t bother,.” He scoffed, harshly jabbing his fingers into your chest, “You’re funny if you think that I’ll ever save you again– it would be one less freak from the clan.” Everyone broke out into a fit of loud laughter, taking turns in mocking you. 
“Consider us forgiven then.” You said firmly, pushing past them and marching towards the sea. 
He called for you to stay back, but you couldn’t just stop now– not when you have already mounted your ilu. The salty ocean air filled your lungs as you surveyed the horizon, the waves crashed on the rocks and it was evident that the water was fiercer. It should’ve been enough sign for you to pocket your pride and relent.
As you made the bond, you embraced the creature, trying to steady your breathing. “Just this once, please? Please, please. Save me from embarrassment.” 
It was a foolish decision to act out of spite, especially after you had been trying for well over a month with no success. You knew there was little chance that this time would be any different, but the impulse drove you forward and you just couldn't let go. As the ilu surged ahead with reckless abandon, you held on more desperately than before.
You were struggling to keep the creature in check. The strong waves made it even more challenging to stay on top of the situation, but you pushed ahead determinedly with an iron grip that was sure to leave your hands sore. Suddenly, your hard work seemed to pay off as the ilu started slowing down under your control, enough that you could relax a little. 
As you emerged from the water, you couldn’t help the shout escaping your throat as the other’s stood ready near their own ilus. Whether the smirk from Ao’nung’s face was of disbelief or if he had been genuinely impressed didn’t matter to you, all you could feel was a surge of pride burning through your skin. You flipped him off, peppering your ilu with much deserved kisses. 
“Come on, let’s go further,” You talked to her, encouraging her to keep moving forward, where she replied with an eager yip. 
You were absolutely thrilled– it had been a grueling month and the anticipation was nearly too much to bear. The thought of finally riding an ilu was almost too exciting for words. Although you preferred the forest, you’d be a big fat liar if you denied the beauty of Awa’atlu. You’ve been dying to explore– you felt like a kid again.
As you continued to ride forward, with not a thought in mind, you would not have expected to be found so easily.
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It was almost night time and everyone was getting ready for dinner inside. Jake waited at the entrance of the Marui, sharpening his dagger as he waited for you.  He glanced around impatiently as he tried to ignore the spiraling  uneasiness in his stomach. 
“It’s getting cold, ma Jake.” Neytiri called for him, rubbing his back soothingly. “Wait for her inside, she’s probably on her way home.” She had noticed how anxious he was growing as the sun started to set and the dark night began to creep closer. It was even more obvious when he hadn't moved from his spot in front for hours already, frown deepening. 
“I failed as a father, Neytiri,” His voice emerged from his throat, strained and raw. He had done all he could, but it seemed that his luck had truly run out.  Now that he faced the truth of his failures, he was filled with bitter regret and a deep sadness for what could have been– of what he had to lose. “I look at them and I feel like I’ve already lost everyone.” 
Neytiri kneeled beside him, curling her arms around him in a comforting embrace. “You only did what you thought was best,” she whispered softly.
“And yet, I managed to make things worse.”  
“Just talk to them, ma Jake,” She gave him a stern look, squeezing his shoulders, “It hasn’t been easy for them either.”
“I know that, but–” The crackling of the line made Jake wince, but he could make out his daughter's voice beneath the static from the other line, and the urgency in your voice made his body jolt– a familiar dread that brought him back to that fateful night when you desperately called out for Neteyam. 
“Can someone hear me?”
The searing heat was unbearable, even when you were surrounded by nothing but water, it scorched your skin the same. The village was rising from the ashes of an unforgiving fire, the island surrounded by familiar ships. Your eyes mirrored the flames that engulfed the area and you were unable to look away— unable to move.
Your fingers frantically felt for the device tucked on your ear, pressing on its button, hoping someone would answer– pride be damned, you even hope that it would be your father. 
He stood up, instinctively grabbing the gun from his side, “__? What’s wrong, baby girl? Talk to me.” 
“Dad, Sir, a village!” Your voice nearly drowned out, inaudible from the deafening sound of waves thrashing towards you and your ilu. You were holding onto her for dear life as the salty water stung at your eyes, blurring your vision, “A village is on fire!”
“What? Where are you?” 
Neytiri stood sharply beside him, her eyes wide with fear as she desperately tried to hear your voice from the intercom. “Jake, what’s happening? Where is she?”
“I don’t know– I don’t know! I rode my Ilu too far. Dad, there are ships! Sky-people ships, plenty!” You spoke rapidly, your words tumbling out of your mouth faster and faster as the panic built up inside of you. You were becoming increasingly anxious, with every passing second more fearful than the last. “They’re here sir, they found us.” 
Jake’s heart plummeted there and then. 
“They’re hurting them– they have them at gunpoint, what do I do?” You continued to hurriedly talk, explaining the severity of the situation. It was nauseatingly terrifying, a sickening sensation that had taken root in his stomach and clouded his mind with nothing but overwhelming fear. “I– I have to do something, anything! Please, tell me what to do.”
“Listen to me, listen to Sempu alright?” His voice is gravelly, like he hasn't been able to catch a breath in what feels like days. Jake was desperate as he wanted to tell you this wasn’t about you proving yourself anymore, acting on behalf of your brother’s loss. This was solely about him wanting his sweet daughter back, safe and sound. “Don’t look at them, for the love of– please, get out of there now.” 
“But dad, I–”
“I need you back here, please baby girl, please.” 
However, you and him did not stand on the same ground, hearts paced on different pages. All you saw were the people; their safety and well-being had to come first and foremost. You had to save them, had to do something to avert the danger. They were innocent and above all, helpless. 
To Jake, all he could think was of you, his sweet daughter, caught in a wildfire. 
“This is an order, __. Turn back now,” It was the only thing he could do, instill authority in hopes it would make you deter. “I’ll alert Tonowari of the situation. It’s not a good idea to barge into face-first and vulnerable, you hear me? What are you gonna do with all their guns and people? Turn back. Now.” 
And it worked. Only now were you able to let out the breath you kept for so long, finally averting your gaze and looking down in shame. “I hear you, sir, I’m,” With one last look, you gulped. “I’m heading back.” 
“Good. Don’t let them see you.” 
As you reconnected with the Ilu, you pleaded it to take the lead and guide them both back home. You could feel her emotions racing through your veins, her fear undeniable as she witnessed others of her kind slaughtered mercilessly by the shoreline. The bond between you was overwhelming and unsteady, so much that it almost took all your energy just to keep yourself from dissociating from her.
Before you could submerge below the safety of the waters again, your ilu begins to bellow loudly in distress. Its body thrashes around, making it hard for you to hold on. “Mawey, mawey!”
More static could be heard from Jake’s intercom, the noise turning more and more deafening. He tried to make out anything from the sound, but all he could hear was white noise. You called out for him one last time, before the pager turned off.
“Jake, please, where’s my daughter?” 
When Neytiri lost her eldest, she didn’t think she’d lose another one so soon.
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☆ mauve here! this was such a pain in the ass to finish, so hopefully i did this chapter justice !!!! i would love to interact w everyone here, so please don't hesitate to drop by my asks! i also accept requests <3 i would very much appreciate it. lots of love!
Tags: @eywas-heir @aonungsmate @cappsikle @dearstell @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @aleracrovn @fangzyz @bobojojoba69 @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @dumb-fawkin-bitch @navs-bhat @jo1818 @ladylovegood-69 @kahlowy @neteyamforlife @mochiivqi @heart-an0n @strnqer @abbersreads @historygeekqueen
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saturnville · 22 days
Text
ii hands ii heaven, l. hamilton
pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x she (black!fem!reader) warning: suggested sexual situations content: in which two newlyweds bask in the essence of one another. an: don't ask me what I know about LH44, I'm not gonna front and act like I know this man like the back of my hand. I saw some videos, watched some interviews, read some fics, and now we're here. just know I wanted to write & I pictured him for this fic lol. hope y'all enjoy
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Soft mewls flowed from her parted lips like a waterfall. Her noises dove and crashed into the deepest oceans of their devotion. The intimacy of the moment was deep. They welcomed themselves to drown in it, leaving air at the surface and choosing to inhale the breath of adoration the other exuded. 
With the soft light of dawn peering through the curtains, their bodies wove together like yarn, knotted together and unable to be untangled. As he whispered sweet sentiments against the shell of her ear, the remnants of the outside world faded away.
The desperation for one another flowed between them like lava, further igniting their passion and desire. They moved together in a unified harmony, exploring all the other had to offer. Tender affection and unrestrained passion were their portion. Each fiery touch, each delicate kiss was an unspoken promise of the depth of their love. 
When the heat of passion began to cool, they stayed wrapped in the warm embrace of one another; damp bodies pressed against each other like glue. On their lips were smiles fueled by dopamine. Low eyes filled with adoration. 
“Hi,” he spoke softly, his breath warm against her lips. She giggled like a lovesick teenager and whispered back, bringing her trembling hand to his face, drumming her finger over his bitten and swollen lips. “Let’s get ready, yeah?” 
She nodded slowly, her face lifting against the pillow as her head moved. She sat up slowly, her wince falling on the ears of her lover. He swiftly wrapped his arms around her and swept her off the warm bed. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Baby!” 
He hummed softly and placed her on her feet. His tattooed arm opened the shower door and turned the handle. He waited for the water to warm before ushering her into the shore with a tap against her bottom. She scolded him playfully, “Hands to yourself.” 
“I’ll try my best.” 
What was intended to be a quick cleanse turned into a thirty-minute shower with heavy droplets against their bodies as she was pressed against the glass, heaving as the humidity invaded her throat. Goodness, they’d be so late. 
They couldn’t keep themselves off of each other. His zipping the back of her dress led to his fingers brushing her hair off her neck and tracing the placement of her dark locks with his lips. Her eyelids fluttered closed as her hands gripped the edge of the counter. He would be the death of her. 
Her tongue darted out and slid over her swollen bottom lip. His hands began to wander over the perfectly fitted dress. It was the prettiest emerald green shade and complimented her skin's richness wonderfully. Every curve, riff, and ridge was accentuated. She looked beautiful. 
“Okay, okay,” she whimpered, pressing her hands against his thigh. “We gotta go, baby, we gotta go.” She turned in his arms and began fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. His chest, decorated with tattoos and the finest of jewelry. 
“You look stunning,” he whispered, caressing her waist. “So pretty.”
She smiled bubbly and pecked his lips, “Thank you kindly.” Her hands smoothed out the thick linen of his suit jacket, the bling from her rings catching his eye. His heart leaped at the sight.  
He hummed lowly and squeezed her bottom, smirking when his fingers caught the dampness between her legs. She gave him a look. He gave one back. “Mhm. The quicker we get out of here, the quicker we get back. Let’s go, Mrs. Hamilton.” 
“That’ll never get old,” she said, reaching behind to swipe her purse off the counter. 
Her husband smiled softly and led her out of their shared bedroom. With a light kiss against her temple, he said, “It’s not supposed to. Let’s get out of here.” As they prepared to depart, the intimacy lingered like the sweetness of her fragrance., 
With whispered words, playful touches, and gentle kisses, they prepared themselves for what the outside world had to offer. Heaven.
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neteyamslovrr · 1 year
Note
Hi I rlly rlly love your fics so if you don't mind can I request aonung x reader where the reader is disappointed with aonung bcs of what aonung did to loak (when he left him) so reader ignor by not giving him cuddle and kisses and it's killing him (he already said sorry to lo'ak) but still reader ignore him until he cried infront of the reader and the reader felt bad and hug him and then they cuddle each other and the reader pets his hair until he falls asleep basically a fluff ending, thank u and sorry for the long discription
Disappointed
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summary: disgusted with what your boyfriend did to the poor forest boy, you cannot speak to him, driving him crazy.
1.2k words fem!metkayina reader
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You were horrified. The pit of disgust bubbling in your stomach as you watched the scene in front of you. Ao’nung, your lover, sent some poor boy out to a death trap. Fiery depths of your emotions recoiled inside you. Eyes burning with disappointment as you stared at Ao’nung from a far being scolded by his father.
It was after all the chaos had happened but now you watched closely to his scolding. Witnessing the winces on his face when ever his mother chimed in. But you didn’t feel bad, you were disgusted with him, the least he deserved was a reprimanding.
“I’ve had enough with you Ao’nung, your punishment will be decided tomorrow.” Ronal hissed at him before leaving the pod with Tonowari. You supposed they were going to the Sully’s.
You watched Ao’nung as he crouched on the ground, his face stiff to stop any emotion he was experiencing to be shown. You looked down at him, a loud sigh escaping your mouth. How could he be that stupid? How could he do that to the poor boy?
“Ao’nung.” His head immediately turned to face you. He saw the look in your eye, the glimmer of disappointment and it killed him. The way you scowled down at him, the look you gave him would take him years to recover from.
“Y/N you have to understand, I am sorry. I should- I should never have done that to Lo’ak.” Rolling your eyes and scoffing it made Ao’nung feel small under your gaze.
“I’m disgusted with you, I love you Ao’nung but I am ashamed to be with someone so cruel.” The rasp and the way you said it so quiet. Quiet enough for it to feel the ever-most hurtful.
“Please Y/N, I apologised to Lo’ak… don’t say shit like that.” Ao’nung was on his knees now looking up at you. It was in the spur of the moment but he was ready to beg and plead for you to take back your shame.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now. Bye Ao’nung.” Walking out fast you heard Ao’nung’s breath tremble. You knew your words were harsh, but he was a bully, a conniving, cruel person today and you couldn’t be around him.
It had been days since you had talked to him. You’d see him give you longing looks across the shore while you built sandcastles with Tuk. You thought about forgiving him, but he had truly disappointed you, it made you wonder if he truly deserved to be forgiven.
“C’mon Y/N… he’s staring so hard right now.” Lo’ak laughed as you all sat in a circle with Tsireya and all his siblings. “I’ve forgiven him, you should too.”
“He doesn’t deserve it.” A blunt statement that made everyone shocked, Tsireya even letting out a small gasp.
Even Kiri who truly didn’t like Ao’nung was shocked. She knew that Ao’nung was sorrowful about his actions and seeing his pleading eyes edge closer and closer to where you all we gathered was torturous.
“He has tried very hard to make amends with us Y/N.” Neteyam chimed in. He was sick of hearing Ao’nung’s complaints about your absence and just wanted you to forgive the boy.
“We’re bros! C’mon Y/N, he’s miserable without you.” Lo’ak smacked your shoulder with his free hand. The other occupied as he held onto Tsireya’s arm.
“He is your lover Y/N, you must miss him too.” Tsireya softly said, her voice calming.
“I just don’t know if I can love someone who can be so cruel.”
You didn’t think what you said was that shocking but the way everyone’s faces had fell made you second guess yourself. Turning around to where everyone’s gaze laid was Ao’nung. His face blank, his eyes averting your gaze as his lips trembled just slightly.
You knew he heard you, it wasn’t like what you said wasn’t true, but it was slighty exaggerated.
“Shit.” Lo’ak whispered out earning a harsh glare from his brother and a light slap from his sister.
You couldn’t get any words out, the time moving slowly as you watched Ao’nung start to walk off, towards his marui. His usual cocky stride replaced with a fast paced walk, like he was trying to race the emotions about to spill out of his body.
Tsireya put her hand on your thigh, looking into her eyes she motioned to her brother. It was her subtly telling you to go, to follow after him. You could ignore him no longer.
As soon as you got up your legs were moving. Following Ao’nung in his pod. The sounds of his sniffles were heart shattering, maybe you let your disappointment go too long, you were stuck in your own head you didn’t think about his.
Pulling the curtain back you looked at Ao’nung, the way his hands were balled into fists as he crouched in the centre of the room. You slowly walked over to him. Crouching in front of him, his heavy breathes and shaking fists made you feel overwhelmed with guilt.
“Ao’nung-” His eyes shot up to look at you. Glossy and bloodshot. He’d been crying?
“Do you not love me anymore? Because if you don’t you can go.” His voice was quiet but still piercing, filled with hurt.
“No Ao’nung. That is not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean? Huh?”
“I just, I was shocked. I didn’t think that was something you had in you. And I wanted no part of it.”
Ao’nung’s eyes averted yours, he knew it was all his fault. But he didn’t think he’d lose his love over it, he couldn’t lose you.
“I’ve tried so hard to apologise Y/N, I’ve done everything. Please can you forgive me too.” His voice was laced with desperation no he gripped your arm with both of his hands. The possibility of losing you was becoming more and more like a guarantee, making his emotions pool in his eyes.
“I know you have Ao’nung.” That’s when you noticed the tears rolling down his cheek, a small gasp was let out of your mouth as you used the hand he wasn’t holding to wipe the tear off his face. “Don’t cry Ao’nung please.”
Ao’nung’s lip quivered rapidly, he felt so weak in front of you, letting his emotions out. He was being so vulnerable in front of you, it made him want to never look you in the eye again. “Forgive me baby please. I’m so sorry, I don’t want you to hate me.”
Pushing him into your chest, you rubbed a hand up and down his back soothing his shaking body. “Oh Ao’nung, I don’t hate you. I see you.”
Ao’nung’s body stiffened before immediately embracing you tighter than before. Laying down he rested his head on your chest, listening to your breathing. He longed for your touch for so long, he longed for you, to now be resting upon you again felt like a blessing.
“I am sorry Y/N” You smiled down at him, a hand caressing his head as he held onto you tightly.
“I know baby, don’t worry about it any longer.”
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authors note: kinda ooc but we didn't get much of ao'nung so its basically like character building
taglist: @aonungmybf @melovehiddlestan @goodiesinthecloset21 @dngnmtr-blog
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claymoresword · 2 months
Text
I Choose Her | Chp: 19
Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader
Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?
Pairing: Hermione x Reader
Wordcount: 3.2k
Warnings: heavy themes, character death, mention of violence, death, grief, (somehow) a sprinkle of fluff
Note: hello! finally we're here, this is looking like the second last chapter, which is bitter sweet but I suppose it has to end at some point :( also I know this one is shorter than usual, and since it is very plot driven it may not be as fun to read but I hope the fluff makes up for it! the next chapter will definitely be longer and hopefully less depressing overall lol. anyway, that's it, as always endless thanks for your patience. hope you enjoy!
Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1 @t-wylia @raven-ss @unexpected-character
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You can feel heat prickling your skin, the quidditch pitch is a fiery blaze and you could only afford to stare in helpless despair.
The quaffle hoops once stood large and tall, you've flown by them countless times during quidditch practice, and multiple house matches. One of the best memories you've made at Hogwarts– reduced to ash.
Now the wooden stands are nothing but kindling for the fire that devoured them, they come crashing down in pieces of hot red ember.
Smoke is all you can smell in the air, thick hot ash and fear.
You can't move, still– you observed as the flames licked another banner, Gryffindor or Slytherin, they were no match for it's fiery wrath.
More students sprint past, careless and panicked, nudging you in the process. Now you are forcefully pushed further into the doorway.
It works as a shock to your system, a part of you astrayed amidst the chaos, but you had to keep running, in search of Hermione.
You propell down the main hall, soon approaching the gallery.
“Y/n!” Blessedly, you finally hear your love call out to you, but it was a shout of warning.
Somehow, you manage to narrowly dodge the curse coming your way. “Avada Kedavra!” You cast in return, without thought, almost second nature.
The Death Eater is thrown backwards, slamming through a broken wall and into a pile of bricks.
Your plan to advance forward is interrupted as you feel a presence fall into you, arms wrapped tightly around your neck.
The scent of your girlfriend's perfume is now smothered by the smell of sweat and dirt, but it provides you comfort all the same.
“I thought you were– I thought I lost you.” Hermione mutters, scattered, and all you want to do is hold her, kiss her, and take her as far away from the castle as you possibly could.
But as much as you would like it to be, fleeing is not an option.
Instead you cup her face in your hands, committing each feature of hers to memory, every dip and freckle.
“I'm sorry.” You say.
“It all happened too fast, I don't know how we got separated.” You finish, still trying to make sense of mayhem. You've both come face to face with death half a dozen times tonight, maybe more.
None of it makes sense.
“Guys, come on!” Harry's voice forces Hermione to break your gaze, she then tugs on your arm, guiding you with her.
Soon you find yourselves in a steady jog down the hallway, you turn a corner only to be met with a sight that stops the four of you in your tracks.
Greyback was bent over the body of a girl, his jaw clamped firmly on her neck, draining all life from his victim.
“No!” Hermione shouts. Frantically, she throws a curse, causing the werewolf to crash through the wall behind him. Now the beast has been vanquished, but it is too late.
Atop rubble and ash, Lavender Brown laid stiff and colorless, entirely unlike herself.
Her eyes are open, yet they held no trace of her. The girl's mortal soul, taken by death– ever merciless and violent, tonight, he spares very few.
Harry is first to snap out of the terror induced trance that you found yourselves in, consequently followed by Hermione.
Soon you move as well, but as you glance at Ron, you can't bring yourself to take another step.
Despite yourself, you find your hand reaching out to grab his shoulder. “Come on, mate.” You coax, but the man doesn't react to your touch, or your voice.
He continues to stare at Lavender– and the sheer absence of her.
“She's gone– she isn't suffering anymore.” You offer, hoping Ron would find some solace in your words, however minute.
He does.
Nodding, the ginger haired boy tears his eyes away from his deceased lover. The four of you continue your journey through the courtyard and down the winding stairs towards the boathouse.
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Hermione's ironclad grip on your forearm doesn't falter as you follow Harry's lead, quietly approaching the boathouse. The four of you immediately crouch out of sight as you caught movement inside.
Voldermort's voice, faint and unsettling, it makes your blood run cold.
He continues to deliver his thoughts with a tone closer to a whisper, the four of you are forced to strain your necks to listen.
Soon you make out a second voice, and you share a quick look amongst yourselves. Trying your hardest to make sense of what was being said between the Dark Lord, and Professor Snape.
“Tonight, when the boy comes, it will not fail you, I'm sure of it.”
“It answers to you, and you only.”
Unsettling silence fills the air once more, and you feel inclined to shift closer to Hermione.
“Does it?” Voldermort finally inquires, and it is followed by a lack of response, for a beat, you wonder if Snape was still present.
“My Lord?” The Professor eventually says.
“The wand, does it truly answer to me?”
“You're a clever man Severus, surely you must know.”
“Where does it's true loyalty lie?”
“With you, of course. My Lord.” The Professor replies with just a gleam of hesitation, and for a reason unknown to you, it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand.
“The Elder wand cannot serve me properly because I am not it's true master. The wand belongs to the wizard who killed it's last owner.” Voldermort continues.
“You killed Dumbledore, Severus.”
“While you live, the elder wand cannot truly be mine.”
“You've been a good and faithful servant, Severus, but only I can live forever.”
Then, Hermione turns to you, and you give her a similar look of horror in response.
“My Lord-” Severus’ response is strained.
None of you are given a chance to react before a loud thud is heard, you see the Professor's silhouette hitting the glass before you.
“Nagini, kill.”
The panel vibrates violently, but miraculously, it doesn't shatter.
The sound of Snape's body hitting the glass repeatedly with every deathly blow, makes the four of you jump.
Then a cold gust of wind surrounded the boathouse, and soon, it was quiet again. Only the sound of water, and the noise of a boat hitting the wooden dock everytime it swayed. Snape's shallow breathing, unsteady and helpless.
Harry is first to move, he enters the boathouse, and the rest of you can only trail after him silently.
“Professor–” You stutter as you catch sight of the man laying on the ground.
Snape was a formidable man, one you used to fear, even respected.
He has never looked so small.
Harry crouches beside him, he places his hand on the man's neck as Snape lets out a sob. The sight was so foreign that you had to look away.
“Take them– take them.” The man pleads, incoherent at first, but quickly Harry understands his request.
“Give me something, a flask, anything.” The chosen one orders, extending his arm toward Hermione.
Your girlfriend does as she is bid, fishing out the object from her bag before passing her best friend an empty vial.
You watched with bated breaths as Harry held it up to Snape's cheek, collecting the Professor's tears. Once he was done, he cuped the vial firmly in his grasp.
“Take them to the pensieve.” Snape orders with all that's left of his strength.
He was slipping away, you could see it, the way his head was nodding to the side as he slowly fell limp against the glass, his gaze far away and vacant.
The man whispers something intelligible to Harry, perhaps intended for his ears only. In half a heartbeat, Snape was dead.
Harry reaches over to gently shut the Professor's eyes.
You step closer, with the intention to lay Snape on the floor properly, so he may be put to rest with some dignity, but before you can suggest it, a blinding pain courses through your arm.
It makes you groan aloud.
Hermione reaches out for you, but then a voice penetrates the air, sudden and invasive.
The Dark Lord is merciless in his attempt, he has lost every ounce of patience– you could feel it in your arm.
Hermione clasps her hands over her ears as Voldermort delivers his second message.
“You have fought valiantly, but in vain. I do not wish this.. every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat, in their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity.”
“Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the forbidden forest and confront your fate.”
“If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman and child, who tries to conceal you from me.”
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As the four of you walked through the empty courtyard, you can't help but notice just how quiet it was, something that would usually be considered a comfort, is now incredibly unnerving.
“Where is everybody?” Hermione asks, but her question is soon enough answered once you push the doors open to the Great Hall.
The space is unrecognizable.
A scene from a nightmare.
There is not a candle in sight, everyone operating on the bit of light provided by the moon. You spot Mr Filch, sequestered in a corner, miserably sweeping piles of rubble out of the way.
Your stomach turns as you make your way through, an endless line of bodies laid upon makeshift cots.
You can't help but look upon all their faces, one by one. All these bodies– they were once sons, daughters, somebody's friend or lover.
The air is snatched out of your lungs as you spot a familiar face.
Nymphadora Tonks lay unmoving beside her husband, their hands outstretched as if to touch each other– even in death.
“No..” You mutter in disbelief and Hermione follows your gaze, she let's out a sharp gasp.
It could have easily been you laying on that cot.
It could have been Hermione.
The thought alone made you nauseous, you could physically feel your stomach turn. You decide you had to get away before you wretched.
Before you could however, a desperate wail snatches your attention. You look up to find Ron in the distance, he sobs uncontrollably as he knelt over his brother's dead body.
You watched as Ginny held him, now they are both sobbing helplessly.
Molly could do all but console them. What agony it must be, to watch your children die before their time.
There is so much pain, too much– you had to get away.
You turn to leave the Great Hall, or what is left of it, with no destination in mind. You simply needed to escape.
Away from grief, away from death, if there was ever a chance of evading it tonight.
“Y/n!” Amidst suffocating torment, no voice has ever sounded as sweet. Hermione swiftly catches up to you, her hand slips into your own.
Your palm now felt calloused and rough. It is caked with dirt and dried blood, but Hermione holds it firmly in her own still.
“Don't leave without telling me like that, we can't separate again.” Hermione scolds, and you offer an apologetic look.
“I just need to get some air.” You explain, but Hermione doesn't question it, in desperate need of an escape herself.
“Come,” She merely coaxes, tugging on your arm.
You soon realize she aims to guide you somewhere secluded, but it seemed impossible. Everywhere you looked, it was death and destruction. Your home; a battlefield.. a gravesite.
After wandering for some time, you finally find a place to sit, the flight of stairs leading up to the Headmaster's Tower remains vacant and mostly intact. Although pieces of stone would break off from the sides ever so often, when compared to the rest of the castle, it was hardly worth acknowledging.
Hermione takes a seat on the step, gesturing for you to do the same next to her. Your girlfriend runs her fingers through your disheveled hair, tenderly moving it out of your face.
Neither of you speak just yet, even after all that's happened tonight, she manages to smile at you, honest and bright. It nearly breaks you.
The thought of living even a day without her was excruciating, you can't lose her tonight, under any circumstances.
“We'll be okay, we've made it this far.” Hermione utters out loud, as if she had just read your mind.
“It'll all be over soon.” Your girlfriend says, but you catch the faint tremor in her voice. She was fighting back tears.
Yet, you could only wrap your arm around her as she rests her head on your shoulder.
After a prolonged silence, you decide to redirect the topic of conversation, however macabre it may seem, you somehow saw it as the perfect opportunity.
Afterall, you could both use a little bit of joy right now.
“There's something I've wanted to ask you– it is going to sound mad, but I need to say it. before it's too late.” You stammer, a sudden sense of nervousness setting in, you take in a deep breath to calm yourself.
“What is it?” Hermione inquires, by the way her brows furrowed you could tell she was concerned as you spoke vaguely.
You quickly realize that it was too late to back out, you needed to take the leap, and hope that Hermione will catch you.
Amidst a sigh you stand up so you could move a step down.
“This is definitely not how I planned to do it, but–” You mutter, looking around before it occurred to you to utilise the ring you already had on your finger.
You take it off as you got down on one knee, albeit somewhat ungracefully. Hermione's eyes widen at the sight, but she doesn't say anything as of yet, watching you intently.
You extend your hand in front of you, and your girlfriend's gaze shifts to the Slytherin crest ring pinched between your index finger and your thumb.
“Hermione Jean Granger, if we make it out alive tonight– would you do me the incredible honor of being my wife?” You finally manage to utter the words you have longed to say.
Hermione's eyes were no longer wide in shock, but her expression is now unreadable. You couldn't tell if she was about to burst into tears or laugh in your face.
In the end, she does neither, but she still struggles to find the words.
“Y/n, I–” She stutters before averting her gaze.
“Are you sure?” Hermione finally asks, meeting your expectant stare, and you can't help but let out a chuckle.
“I have wanted you since the first moment. I knew I loved you from the first time you smiled at me. and I knew I wanted to marry you the first time you ran your fingers through my hair. and then our first kiss– I truly thought if we couldn't be together, I'd die.” You spoke from the heart without missing a beat, not caring about just how dramatic you might have sounded.
“I used to think that I'd be just fine on my own. I didn't believe that I could ever care for someone the way I do for you.” Your voice breaks ever so slightly, you swallow before continuing.
“Hermione when I'm not with you– it feels like I can't breathe.” You barely manage to say, your throat tightens, as a tear escapes your eye.
“my love–” Hermione coos, her own eyes now welling up with tears. She approaches to grab your forearm, although not harshly, she guides you back on your feet.
Your faces are mere inches away from each other before she would crash her lips against yours, a kiss that is restless and unchecked yet somehow equally tamed and loaded with love.
“Of course, I will marry you.” She declares once your lips part, she wipes the tear away with the pad of her thumb, and your heart sings.
You are unable to contain the large grin on your face, one Hermione had no issues reciprocating.
“Really?” You ask, mainly in relief rather than actual disbelief.
Hermione pauses as if thinking of an adequate response
“Well, I do think we should at least wait a year or two, at least until after we finish school.” Hermione admits, and you scoff, even in the midst of a war her priorities remain unchanged.
“but–” Hermione says, grabbing your face so she could force you to meet her gaze once more.
“It is a yes, without a doubt. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else.” Your girlfriend states earnestly, and your smile returns.
You eagerly grab her hand so you may slip the ring onto her finger.
Hermione stares at the piece of jewelry, silently inspecting the intricate carving of a snake, before finally kissing you again.
The feeling of Hermione's lips against your own allowed you to forget the impending threat of death. With her you believe that you could survive anything. This war will be over soon, and you will marry her. Whatever it takes.
Hermione breaks the kiss only when you are both gasping for air, she embraces you tightly, as if trying to savor the feeling as much and for as long as she could.
-
Harry emerges from seemingly out of nowhere, you open your eyes as you hear footsteps. Hermione releases you so she may turn to her friend.
Harry's stare was distant, troubled. In truth, he looked sick. You dread to find out exactly what he's witnessed within Snape's memories, neither you nor Hermione mustered the will to ask.
Unexpectedly, Harry is first to break the silence.
“Where's Ron?” He mutters, finally looking between Hermione and yourself.
“He's with his family still.” Your girlfriend explains. Then the chosen one nods, and he starts to fade once more, disappearing into his own head.
“Harry what is it?” Hermione asks, when Harry looks up at her again, his eyes are glossed over with tears.
“There's a reason I can hear them, the Horcruxes.” He remarks. “I've known for awhile, and I think you have too.”
The newfound resolve in his voice makes your entire body stiffen, soon Hermione is crying again.
Harry possessed a bravery you once envied– but no longer.
He plans to confront the Dark Lord and the thought of it made you ill, he shouldn't have to go through it alone. It seems your girlfriend shared the same sentiment as she spoke her next words amidst soft sobs.
“I'll go with you–” She suggests, but her best friend is quick to turn her down.
“No, kill the snake.” Harry says, glancing between the two of you.
“Kill the snake and then it's just him.” He asserts. Hermione practically throws herself into his arms.
You watched as she cleaved to him hopelessly, Harry doing the same in return.
Soon, The Chosen One shifts his gaze towards something behind you, and you swiftly turn around to see Ron standing a few paces away.
The expression on his face suggests he had been standing there for some time.
His eyes were tired, glazed over with what resembled apathy– or perhaps the harrowing inevitably of acceptance. You could not say for certain.
One thing you did know; in order to defeat Voldermort, Harry Potter has to die.
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wifeofsnowbaird · 4 months
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[guys its the prologue, i did it so fast! also if you don't know what a bard is, they're poets from medieval times who sang for the king and/or queen]
You Can't, You Can't Catch me Now I'm coming like storm into your town
Part I/Part 2/Part 3/
Masterlist
[ mentor!coriolanus snow x time-traveled hg-era, district 9 tribute!reader x toxic! finnick odair(in the peacekeeper era)]
Warning: violence, serious injury, death, physical assult, gun and knife violence, possibly non-con...maybe.
Summary: You are a rebel, the last chance of the rebellion against President Snow. You're told to go on one last mission to kill the man who massacred Panem. It took you years to understand your mission when you became [name] Lily Baird, starting from the age of five till before the reaping day of the 10th Hunger Games.
The day you began your plan to destroy President Snow before he became the villain he was meant to become.
'Both sisters, Lucy Gray and [Name] Lily Baird are a part of the Covey, and though they have been chosen as tribute for both District 12 and 9 because of our own mistakes, we hope they will stay safe.'
You knew about [Name] Lily Baird, named after her because your mother was inspired by her fiery personality and strength, but now you realize that you were transported to a time before the Baird sisters died, one of sickness and one because of Coriolanus Snow himself.
'I will kill you, President Coriolanus Snow.'
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‘Remember what he has done to your family, [Name]. Snow is nothing but a manipulator.’
You laughed before grinning over to Haymitch as he sent you a worried glance.
‘Well, I better remember this. The only time Haymitch Abernathy is serious and not seriously drunk.’
He grinned, a wide smile covering his face.
‘Take a video! Then you could see it and I could prove that I can be serious!’
You both laughed before sighing as Haymitch glanced at you sadly.
‘Believe in me, [Name], I’ve heard about women who were sadly obsessed with him. I just don’t want you to get hurt. Kill him, fall in love with a man you’re destined for, and live a happy life with no Snow in your way.’
You shook your head, Snow couldn’t be that handsome and since you know what he will do, you’re strong enough to fight that feeling.
‘I promise.’
They led you to the table, letting you bask in the warmth of the heater in front of you since you had been outside in the cold.
Katniss, Peeta, hell even Gale had said goodbye to you.
It made you feel…like…people cared…for you…
But the person you actually wanted there...refused to talk before you-the last hope-left.
Before the Covey had left for District 12, a woman named [Name] Lily Baird had gained a deadly virus. In the life where you had lived, she died the week of the reaping day and wasn’t chosen as tribute for District 9, but this time, you will be alive and manage to kill the man who ruined your life.
You will die, President Coriolanus Snow.
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*cough* covid *cough*
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lovelywritinglady · 2 months
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fem! muzan with androphobic reader? (fear of men) It was, at first, an arranged marriage done by her father who doesn't care nor console this phobia so they force reader into it to try and 'make her better' (even though the father is who made such a fear manifest) obviously, he would uh, deal with the father and console reader as fem, you know? i want angst & fluff pls
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Women Do It Better
Fem!Muzan x fem!reader
Angst, readers father is abusive, mentions of death, blood, gore. Some fluff and Female Muzan. It's hinted at that reader was sexually assaulted. I added a little more angst than what was originally requested. Triggering topics-mentions of SA and use of slut and other hurtful words. Muzan is out of character.
"Please father don't make me do this! I will do anything else, but please do not make me marry him." You pleated with your father even though deep down you knew he wouldn't listen.
"Shut your mouth you dammed brat. You will do as I say and I will not entertain your hysterics!" He spat grabbing your left wrist so tightly that you were sure that it would bruise.
"No!" You screamed trying to shake your wrist free and grabbing on your fathers hand trying to push it off.
"You stupid worthless bitch!" your father screamed in a raging fury as he slapped you with the back of his hand. You then landed on the ground with loud thump as your cheek stung and tears were streaming down your face. "You will marry this man as he is the only man that has ever given the slightest interest in you. Your body has been tainted ever since you let that boy have his way with you. You're disgusting and I have no idea why this man wants filth like you in the first place." He told you without an ounce of care for what that "boy" did to you in the past. Even though the boy in question was a close friend of his and when you told your father he called you a liar and a slut. He then told everyone that it was the servant boy that he had hired and that you were the one who seduced him. You knew that your father never loved you, but that was the moment you really knew he couldn't give a shit about you. Your fear of men steamed from that and the fact that your father is a terrifying man who has no heart whatsoever.
The next day...
You stood next to your father at the most most beautiful house you had ever seen. It was dark out but the house was well lit. You had a small smile on your face looking at it and the beautiful garden that was out front. You noticed all kinds of flowers that you had never seen before planted and you wondered where they came from. Your smile faltered as soon as reality sunk back in. You looked at your father that had a bored expression on his old and wrinkly face. Your life was about to drastically change and he couldn't care less, not like you were surprised.
"Damn bastard making us wait outside in this damn heat." You heard your father grumble quietly as he crossed his arms.
Just as your father grew impatient, the doors to the magnificent house opened and revelied a man with short curly hair and a hard to lead expression on his face. You got chills looking at him and fear consumed your body as you shook slightly. You father took notice of this and rolled his eyes. He then grabbed your injured writs making you finch slightly as you both made your way into the house. As you entered you noticed the smell of baked goods. A delightful smell that reminded you of when your mother was still alive. You felt comforted and your anxiety went down a little.
You and your father followed him into a large living room with a roaring fire that warmed the entire space. You both then sat down on a rather comfortable maroon colored couch as he sat across from you on a large arm chair that resembled his fiery red eyes. There was a gold table in front of you. The space a round you consisted of beautiful paintings of scenes that you had never seen painted before. The walls were a deep red with gold accents on the trim. The flooring was chestnut wood that looked as though it had just been polished. A fire place adorned the space as ebony in color. You were in awe of the space, but you could feel your fathers gaze upon you, so you stopped noticing and kept your head down.
For a little while no one spoke a word. Your father looked at the space with jealousy as this type of living would never be his reality even after the money he would receive after essentially selling you to this strange man. Just then, a thin woman who looked rather sickly entered the room carrying a tray of the baked goods from earlier as well as tea for the three of you. She placed the tray down turning to the man with the fiery red eyes and bowed deeply, slightly shaking as she did so. She then left without making a sound and the whole situation made you shake just like that woman. Silence still consumed the space until your father got aggraviated and spoke in his booming voice.
"So are we gonna get this buissness over with? I've got better things to do than to stick around this brat any longer." He said in a gruff tone as he stared directly at the strange man.
"Yes, I suppose you would have nothing to do." The man responded.
"Whatever." Your father huffed cleary annoyed
"I am Muzan Kibutsuji, I am to be your husband." Muzan spoke, ignoring your father.
"I'm y/n l/n, It's nice to meet you sir. You have a lovely home." You complimented him doing your best to look him in the eyes.
"Thank you, I hope its to your liking as this is where you will be living." He told you, giving you a small smile.
"Thank you sir." You spoke softly
"Now on to important business. I have the documents here to for you to sign Ms. L/n, and I have already signed myself." Muzan declared handing over the documents to you.
You took the documents, placing them neatly in front of you. Taking the capped pen in your dominamt hand you held the pen on the line. Your hand was shaking as your uneven breaths didn't go unnoticed by your father and Muzan. Your father scowled at you as he leaned in pinching your side making you yelp quietly.
"Sign the damn paper girl." He snapped quietly letting go of your side. This terrified you, and you ended up writing out your name in sloppy letters. You then quickly capped the pen and put it on to op the documents. Your father sighed sharply, snatching the papers off the table giving them a scan. "Even your handwriting is shitty." He commented scoffing as he handed the papers back to Muzan. Your father grew impatient as he tapped his foot rather loudly. "Alright Mr. Kibutsuji, I'll be leaving her with you now. I trust the money has been sent to my house." You father rudely spoke as he stood up and began leaving.
"Yes, the money should be at your residence now." Muzan responded as his gaze never left yours. It was almost as though your father was an afterthought and you were the main attraction.
"Good." your father said back walking out the enormous door until his figure was not seen nor his footprints heard.
You contuniued to sit in your place as the fire was startuing to go out and the moon hit its peak as it shone throughout the room. You felt as though time itself was scared to move. Muzan kept his bleeding red eyes you. You couldn't help but stare back at him. You were terrified of the opposite sex, however, this man here seemed gentle, almost kind. Even still, he terrified you and you were scared that he would treat you the same as your father did. The silence ended as Muzan asked you an interesting question.
"What are you scared of?" He questioned suddenly leaning in as he asked.
"I'm sorry sir, but what do you mean?" You asked him not understaing why he would ask you such a strange question.
"It's a simple question, Y/n. What are you scared of?" He asked once more. With a flash he wa ssuddelnly in front of you.
"How did you do that?" You asked with slight apprehension in your voice.
"Answer the question y/n." He demanded in a soft voice as to not scare you.
"I.." I paused staring into his beautiful eyes. "I'm scared of my father and any man.." You told him now terrified that you just told him the very thing he can use against you.
"Thank you, close your eyes and do not be alarmed." He told you and for some reason you did just as he told you. However, tears left you eyes as you closed them. You them felt a cold but soft hand wipe them away. You felt soothed slightly but your heart was pounding heavily.
"Now, y/n, open your eyes." He spoke and once again you did. To your absolute shock, he was now a woman? Muzan had graceful hair and his face was angelic. She wore a traditional kimono with jewels and ribbons adorning his garments. You began crying simply because Muzan was the most beautiful thing you had ever witnessed.
"You're crying, why is that. Aren't you less afraid of me now that I'm in this form?" Muzan spoke as the depth of his voice remained unchanged. However, she sounded as though she was offended.
"No, I'm not scared, but how did you do that?" you reassured as a bright smile appeared on your face for the first time in many years.
"I am a demon and can change my form to whatever I like." Muzan spoke.
"My mother told me about demons and how they eat people. She told me that some of them are beautiful, but that some of them are horrible. How the sun can kill them and how strong and dangerous they can be." You told Muzan not realizing that you might have spoken out of turn.
"Yes, demons are beautiful and I am the strongest among them. We do in fact consume humans and the more we consume, the stronger we are." She told you as you continued to trace every detail of his meazmurizing face. The fear you thought you should have never appeared as you felt as though you had been around demons all of your life. She seemed to notice that you weren't scared.
"Aren't you scared that I might eat you?" Muzan questioned
"I'd prefer not to but if you were to, there would be nothing I could do." You told her honestly as the power gap between you to is unimaginable.
"You're quite right I could." Muzan commented as she flared her piercing fuchsia red eyes. "However, I would never eat one so precious." she added which shocked you to say the least.
You were so distracted by her and her strange words, that the most important question seemed to pop in your head only now. "So why did you want to marry me? My father told me that it was you requested to marry me and offered to pay for my hand in marriage." You asked him now realizing the importance of the question you had just asked.
"Your blood of course. It has rare and quite special indeed, not many humans have it. Which means you are a unique and rare creature indeed and someone I need by my side at all times." She told you looking at you as though you were the most precious thing in the world, even though you couldn't recognize the look at all.
"I didn't even know my blood could have ever been important." You said, mostly to yourself.
"What is it you want most in the world?" He asked you
"To be happy." You responded honestly
"What would make you happy then?" She continued. You took a bit of time to think as you had never thought about how to be happy. You knew that there were many things you wanted to do, but you decided to tell her the first thing that popped in your mind.
"I never want to see my father again." You told her hoping that maybe just maybe she could make that happen.
"As you wish." She responded rather simply and you felt like a bag of rocks was lifted off of your shoulders. You let out a breathe of relief and could tell that Muzan was someone of their word as you had been around numerous men that weren't.
"Thank you." You whispered to her
"I will call the maid to take you to your room. I trust you might be comfortable having your own space. In the meantime there is buissness that I must address." Muzan spoke and as soon as she did she was gone.
A few moments later, the same maid that you saw earlier made her way in. Her quiet nature remained unchanged as did her facial expressions. She quietly gestured for you to follow her, and so you did giving her a smile of gratitude as you did. Your new room wasn't too far from the living room. However, this room was a tiny bit smaller and had a fireplace of its own placed on the very center of the room. There were two large windows on both sides of it adorned with maroon colored drapes. The windows themselves had a sort of black tint on them and you assumed that it was because of the danger of the sun. The bed lay to the right of the fire place and you swore it was the biggest bed you had ever seen. The bed sheets were also red and you could tell they were velvet. There were many tapestries that hung in the walls that depicted all kind of different scenes. Mostly containing images of demons. However, some of them contained botanical scenes that fluttered your heart a little because of their unique beauty.
"Did Mr. Kibutsuji decorate this room?" You asked the maid as she stood in the doorway.
"Yes miss, he has particular taste but your room is yours and the master has told me that you may decorate as you like." She spoke in a soft voice. "Thank you, may I ask your name?" You asked her as you deemed it rude that you only call her maid. "Yes miss, it's Ms. Fujimita, but you may call me whatever you feel fit to." Ms. Fujimita told you.
"Wonderful, thank you. I think I might sleep now." You told her as you could feel the tiredness start to consume your body.
"Yes miss, goodnight." She spoke closing the doors as she left.
The closets that were located to the left of your bed opened up and it felt like you had two rooms. The space was massive and rows and rows of clothes were occupying the space. You remember your father telling you that you didn't need to pack anything and you just assumed that you would be wearing the same clothes over and over again. How wrong you were. You wanted nothing more than to browse, but your eyes betrayed you. You then saw some sleep clothes that looked comfortable and quickly took your clothes off and put them on.
You leaped into the bed letting your body mold with the mattress. Soon enough you fell into a deep slumber listening to the sounds of the fireplace crackling. Suddenly, you felt the bed shift and your body jolted up. A scream left you and you scrambled further up the bed trying to get away from the figure that dared to sit on you bed. You heard the faint sound of shushing and a voice telling you to calm yourself. You were confused and quite sleepy to fully make out the voice. However, you noticed the figures eyes and knew exactly who the "person" was.
"Hush now y/n and have no fear. You will be happy here now I promise you." Muzan spoke in a comfortable whisper.
"Why, what's happen." you asked frantically still calming down from your panic. Muzan then, out of the blue, lit the oil lamp to the side of the bed. You were then able to see the the full beaiutiful appearence of Muzan. She was still in the female form, however, she was covered in blood but that did not take away the ethereal beauity of her. Still, a chill ran down your spine at the sight of the blood.
Muzan noticed your fear and quickly vanished with a flash. You were stunned to say the least, but it was short lived as she returned only now without the blood covering her body. You felt more comfort by this, but you couldn't hep but wonder whose blood it belonged to and a wave of sadness washed over your figure.
"Whose blood was on your clothes?' You asked hesitantly, however you needed to know. You put on a confident face, doing your best not to seem anxious. You noticed a slight change in Muzan's eyes and you couldn't pin point what it was.
"The blood belongs to someone who has caused you great suffering." Muzan simply said as she moved closer to you. Your heart beat fast as you already knew who it was. Your emotions were all over, but the one emotion that stood out was pure happiness. The thought of your father being dead delighted you and that terrified you. You thought to yourself, "Why am I so happy about this? Why am I okay with feeling this way?" You darting back in forth between your own morals to the point you thought you might go insane. Muzan, nit being the best at human emotion, decided that it would be best to simply hug you, hoping that this would ease your distress, and so he did.
To say you were shocked was an understatement. You stiffed in the hug but melted as soon as you smelled the luscious scent of honey and jasmine. You then held her tightly breathing in her comforting scent. To you, it felt like it was an eternity of a hug and to Muzan she didn't seem to mind that you held her like this. She then broke the hug and took your face in her hands. She looked you in your now watery eyes giving your face a small stroke as she spoke.
"You are mine and now you shall be happy that your beast of a father is gone." She told you in an almost happy tone
"Thank you." You whispered still feeling slightly guilty for being happy that your father is dead. Although for most of your life that's all you wanted.
"I'm your husband, so it is only natural that a husband wants to see their wife happy." Muzan spoke honestly
"If you are my husband, then why have you decided to appear as a woman?" You asked feeling uncomfortable at the thought of Muzan being your husband but no problem with her currant appearence.
"Its simply because I know it makes you tolorate me. You may call me your wife it would make you tolorate me more." Muzan spoke taking her hands off of your face and placed them in her lap.
"Thank you, I'd like that. I don't just want to tolorate you, I want to like you considering we will be married." You mumbled slightly nervous that you just made her uncomfortable.
"Good, now get some sleep." She whispered gestering you to get comfortable again. Just as you were about to say it back she was gone. You smiled getting comfortable in your bed once again and feeling genuenily happy for the first time in years.
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Thank you so much for reading and thank you to whoever requested this fic!💜
Please feel free to like, comment, request, and reblog!
Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.
•I do NOT own any characters except y/n and any original characters•
L.W.L
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blackphanto · 3 months
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Trying to overanalyze Lucifer's design
The Hazbin Hotel season 1 finale was fucking insane. I loved everything and especially Lucifer, whom I am dedicating this post to.
Let's begin with his "normal" form
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Lucifer wears a ringleader costume bc Hell is one giant circus and he's the ringleader, but did you know that there's actually more to it?
A ringmaster, -mistress or -leader is like the opening act of a circus. They show you around, introduce the other acts and keep you hooked. They are essentially the glue that keeps the circus together. Another definition of a ringmaster, -mistress or -leader talks about an actual leader who leads a group of people, mostly through the act of doing illicit or unlawful activities. A role that would suit Lilith better than Lucifer. Sins could be seen as unlawful activities in Heaven's eyes and Lucifer is the cause of how evil found its way to earth, one could say that he was the one to lead the sinners in their sinful behavior in life. Yet, in death - if we go by Charlie's storybook - Lilith was the one leading the sinners to rise up against Heaven, another illicit activity that has led to their eventual doom.
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Luci also wears a top hat with his crown on top of it. The hat gives him some extra height so I doubt that he wears it for any other reason. His crown is mostly covered with a snake and a red apple on the side. The snake can have 2 meanings: 1) how the word 'seraphim' in Hebrew can be translated to 'fiery serpent', due to his six wings, Lucifer is likely a seraph. 2) he was the serpent that tempted Eve, although never confirmed in any religious text, this idea of him being that snake is really popular in every reiteration of that story. This would also be why there's an apple motive following the Morningstars. Now let's move on to...
Angelic/demonic form
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I don't think what we are seeing here is his full angelic/demonic form, but considering that the other Princes' forms aren't as scary either it is likely the case. The first thing that caught my attention were the horns and overall resemblance this form has to Charlie's, but let's focus on the differences.
In the first image, the snake and apple have turned into some sort of halo, a nod that his actual halo has disappeared when he fell and unlike Vaggie his wings probably didn't get ripped off, but I do believe they were different to how they were when he was behind the Pearly Gates. He has a tail and horns, classic demon imagery, there are 6 eyes at the end of his coat and there's one more on his bowtie, which makes a total of 8 eyes on Lucifer's design. The eyes are a common returning motive in Heaven and with angels.Luci also has a flame in-between his horns. This honestly reminded me of Baphomet, but they would likely be a Candle head from the Sloth ring. In the Bible, fire is often depicted as the presence of God, but I'm a firm believer that Hazbin has a deistic God view (see my other post), so I doubt that's the case here. The fire was likely chosen because Hell is associated with fire and he's the king of Hell so they thought it would make sense.
Like father, like daughter
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As stated before, Lucifer and Charlie share a lot of similar elements. She's essentially him without wings and with longer hair. They both have a red sclera with a yellow iris. Their tail is pitch black with a heart cut out at the end and despite having white skin, Lucifer's arms are greyish. I always thought they were gloves, but no, man's face doesn't match his hands. I really like this shot of them right here, they look so badass!
Charlie also seems to be getting a new ability which has to do with her arm getting bigger and blocking Adam. This might be a callback to whatever was going on with her arm in her first design.
That was it thanks for reading <3
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flowerandblood · 5 months
Text
The Man with the One Eye
[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]
[ warnings: sex content, fingering, smut, angst, violence, trauma, mourning, mention of murders and victims ]
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[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his ‘ghosts’, a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, very dark Aemond. ]
This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.
Series & Characters Moodboard Lady Walford Moodboard Gothic & Horror Sensual Moodboard
Part 1 - The Man with the Black Mask | Part 2 - The Man with the Empty Heart | Part 3 - The Man with the Lost Soul | Part 4 - The Man with the Cold Mouth | Part 5 - The Man with the Deep Scar | Part 7 - The Man with the Golden Gift | Part 8 - The Man in the Black Crown | Part 9 - The Man with the Bloody Sword | Part 10 - The Man in the Black Gloves | Part 11 - The Man in the Death Cloak | Part 12 - The Man with the Pearly Hair | Part 13 - The Man with the Fiery Gaze
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
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They stared at each other in silence for a long moment − she couldn't take her eyes off his face, his scar, the sapphire in his eye socket, his almost white hair, his fair skin, his sharply outlined cheekbones. She looked at him and felt her heart in her throat, trembling all over, terrified and distraught at the same time, feeling a tightening in her chest.
"Are you disappointed?" He asked coldly; she furrowed her brow, wondering what he meant. She felt a shudder run through her body, his gaze impatient and full of resentment, as if he thought her reaction was due not to who he was, but to what she had seen.
His face destroyed forever.
She parted her lips but couldn't get anything out, her heart filled with anguish and a sense that he had used her, that everything he had said was a lie, a premeditated act to get closer to her and her father, that for those weeks he had been mocking her in his heart.
She felt the tears run down her cheeks.
She just lay back on her bed, not looking at him any further, wanting to preserve whatever remnants of dignity she had left, the sheet underneath her cold, almost burning her naked skin.
She heard him swallow loudly and turn his face to the side, impatient, the fingers of his hands rubbing against each other in exasperation.
"Don't leave until I allow you to. You are to stay in your chamber." He said in a matter-of-fact, impassive, unobjectionable voice and put on his mask, placing the hood over his head after a moment.
She did not look at him − she heard his footsteps and then the sound of the door opening and closing.
She clenched her eyes shut and burst into sobs, snuggling into the white pillow, thinking only of the fact that he had used her, played with her, taken pleasure in her unconsciousness, made her his mere whore.
He hadn't planned to marry her.
He had simply mocked her, given her what she so desperately needed − the hope that there was another life for her, one in which she would find peace.
She covered herself with thick furs and lay like that without moving, wondering if he was afraid she would run to her father and tell him everything, expose him to him and destroy his whole plan. She laughed and ran her hand over her face at the thought that he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't do that.
That she had dreamed that day would come.
The day of judgement on her father.
She shuddered when she heard someone's loud scream, then another and another − she rose to sit down, covered in furs and looked with big eyes towards the door, her heart pounding like mad.
They will come for me, she thought.
They will come for me, they will rape me and they will cut my throat.
She could hear people running, men in armour, the sounds of fighting and swords slashing, but no one entered her chamber.
She dressed quickly in her nightgown and put on her blue matted robe, tying it around her waist − she sat on her bed and waited, praying with her eyes closed, thinking of her younger brother, her mother and that she might meet them soon, in this life or the next.
It seemed to her that long hours passed before complete silence came − it was late at night when the door to her chamber opened. She stood up, stepping back, terrified, looking at a black-haired man with a light stubble in a knight's attire, all dirty from blood, looking disapprovingly at her.
"The King wishes to see you, my Lady." He said coolly, and she swallowed loudly, tightening her fingers on her arms.
The King.
My Lady.
She nodded, knowing she could not refuse, and felt some kind of relief that it would all be over soon.
She walked barefoot through the corridors full of her father's dead servants, guards and soldiers, and tried not to look at them or think that she had known some of them for years, that they were innocent, that they had wives and children waiting for them.
She was ushered into the great hall where her king-father was conferring with his advisors − it was now full of men in armour. She saw with disbelief the lords who were her mother's relatives and several of her father's ghosts, their masks removed, looking at her with curiosity combined with disapproval.
She swallowed loudly and gasped, noticing a man with a scar on his face sitting in a beautifully decorated old wooden chair at the head of the table, the stone in his eye glinting ominously.
Vhagar.
"How dare you look straight into the face of your King, traitor!" Growled one of the men, wanting to approach her and grab her arm − she stepped away from him, the cold, disgruntled, harsh voice of the prince spreading through the chamber.
"Don't touch her."
The man stopped in mid-step with a loud clack of armour, looking at him in disbelief, pointing at her with his hand.
"She should be searched immediately, Your Grace. She may be hiding a dagger in her sleeves, we do not know what she will do." He said quickly − the Prince raised his hand, thus communicating that he had ordered the lord to be silent.
"Leave us alone. Immediately."
"But, my King…" Cole started, but he looked at him enraged, clearly losing patience.
There was something strange and intimate about the fact that she could see him now so perfectly, so clearly.
She felt a powerful shudder every time she heard his familiar voice, the same one that had whispered in her ear for the last few nights, rooting into her with the thrusts of his hips, that she belonged to him, his warm, sweet wife.
She swallowed loudly at the thought, looking directly at him as she heard one by one the men left the room, the door finally closing behind them with a loud clatter of wood.
They were silent for a long moment staring at each other − she heard him hum under his breath as he looked away, trailing his fingers across the table top.
"I understand your disappointment and your grief. In truth, I have procrastinated too long, but I did it with our future in mind. I wanted the takeover of the throne to proceed without…unnecessary disruption and, as if to put it, dramatism." He said softly, but there was a chill in the tone of his voice that she knew so well from the first days she had met him − she knew that he had distanced himself from her as much as she had distanced herself from him.
She looked at him wordlessly, unsure of what he wanted to hear.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" He asked with a hint of irritation, his brow furrowed, his healthy eye watching her expectantly, wanting to draw out any response from her.
"Is he dead?" She asked dispassionately, calmly, and heard him let out a loud puff of air through his nose, stretching out in his chair with a loud creak of wood.
"I killed him a few minutes after I left your chamber." He said softly, cocking his head to the side, intrigued as to what her reaction would be.
"How?" She asked immediately, his tongue licking his lower lip.
"I cut his throat." He muttered with satisfaction, a kind of relief and delight in his voice. She lowered her gaze only to look at him again a moment later.
"Good. What about my brother?"
"He's in a safe place."
"I want to see him."
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, his pupil narrowed.
"You'll see him once we get everything settled."
She blinked, swallowing loudly, wondering what else he might have wanted from her.
He tapped his pointing finger against his armrest a few times and hummed as if he was thinking hard about something − he was tense and clearly aiming for something, but she had no idea what he hoped for.
"We need to discuss the details of our nuptials and coronation in the coming days. They should take place as soon as possible." He said dryly, facing her in profile, gazing at the flames dancing in the fireplace. She felt her lips part slightly in disbelief, her heart beginning to pound like mad.
What?
"I don't expect your pity. I will not tell anyone about what has happened between us, I will spare myself this humiliation. Send me back to the monastery or wherever you see fit." She replied, feeling only weariness, only regret, only emptiness.
He looked at her in disbelief, as if she had completely lost her mind. She saw his jaw clenched in rage, his hand on his armrest tightened into a fist.
"Are you that disgusted with me?"
She laughed involuntarily at his words, fury shining in his eyes, he thought she was mocking him.
"With you? I'm disgusted with myself." She said touching her hand to her chest. "I believed you like a naive little child. Aren't you tired of lying?"
He looked at her breathing loudly through his nose − he rose suddenly with a loud creak of the chair against the stone floor and after a moment he was already in front of her, towering over her, his large hand clamped on her slender neck. She grabbed his wrist, looking at him pleadingly − he was panting loudly, leaning over her face.
"Lying?" He hissed, pressing her body against the table behind her, his free hand gripping the fabric of her robe and lifting it higher.
She squirmed, distraught and terrified as his fingers pressed between her thighs, beginning to tease her with sure, circular motions − she parted her lips, trying to catch her breath, her body shuddered. She felt her insides throb, reacting involuntarily to his familiar, longed-for touch.
He licked his lips with his tongue as he heard his movements begin to be accompanied by the quiet click of her moisture, his hand from her neck rose to her cheeks and clamped down on them forcing her to look at him the entire time he touched her.
"That's what you call a lie? Hm?" He growled, breathing loudly, gathering the wetness that flowed out of her with his fingers, only to slide two of them deep inside her.
She mewled helplessly, involuntarily spreading her thighs in front of him, moaning quietly when she felt him begin to deliberately rub the point inside her that was sending shivers through her.
"Don't you want this? Do you want me to stop? Come on, fucking get it out of you." He hissed, grabbing her by her hair, pressing his forehead against hers, sliding his fingers in and out of her in a quick, intense rhythm − she clenched her hands on the material of his leather tunic, panting loudly, no longer knowing for herself what she wanted and what she didn't.
"− ask your husband, tell him what you want − come on, you know I'll give you fucking everything −" He growled with some kind of desperation from which she drew in the air louder, her walls clenching on his fingers − she moaned, feeling the heat, wishing only that he would tell her that she was not part of his revenge.
"− please, husband − please, tell me you didn't plan this −" She muttered, she heard him sigh in relief when she called him what he wanted, his fingertips deliberately began rubbing the point between her muscles more intensely. He closed his eyes and chuckled under his breath in disbelief.
"− planned? − good gods −" He murmured lowly, looking down at her again, his thumb running over her hot cheek, her hips involuntarily responding to his every move, his tips digging into her fleshy muscles, increasing the pressure, making her squirm loudly as she looked up at him with her lips parted. "− I almost lost everything − because of you − for you − do you understand? − say you understand −"
He commanded and she nodded her head quickly, looking at him pleadingly, her hand rose to his scarred cheek and ran over it in a tender, gentle motion. She heard his weak groan, his soft, moist lips brushed hers uncertainly, then again and again until she threw her arms around his neck and they clung to each other like mad, their tongues and teeth clashing in a sticky, wet dance.
"− please −" She mumbled into his mouth, her hand sliding lower to the hard bulge in his breeches, feeling him tremble all over. "− please, husband −"
He slipped his fingers out of her and undid the buckle of his tunic, her hands reached quickly to the tying of his breeches, lowering them slightly, his manhood all swollen and throbbing.
She felt him catch her around her waist with one hand and sit her on the table in front of him, pulling her robe up − she spread her thighs in front of him and moaned sweetly, clasping her hands over his cheeks, feeling the fat head of his length forced its way inside her.
With one confident thrust he slid all the way inside her and then began to root into her with quick, sharp movements, their bodies slapping against each other loudly − she was so wet there that he slipped into her with ease. They embraced again and kissed greedily, she moaned loudly feeling his tongue deep down her throat.
"− you're fucking leaking − that's what you call lying? −" He hissed out between deep, brutal thrusts, his hands clamped tightly on her back embracing her tightly. She quivered before him, responding with her hips to his movements, feeling her walls clench around him at his words, his familiar, craved scent filled her nose, every time the tips of their tongues licked she could taste his saliva again.
"− you're mine −" He exhaled, clamping one hand in her hair, pressing his forehead against hers, rooting into her so fast and deep that they were out of breath.
"− my doom − my wife − my Queen −" He mumbled with some kind of tenderness, looking at her with his lips slightly parted. She felt a tightening in her throat and tears under her eyelids at his words − she grasped his cheeks in her hands and kissed him, feeling that a few more of his thrusts and she would experience the relief she yearned for.
"− fill me, my King − please, please, please −" She mumbled, hearing his low, surprised moan at her words, both of them were now just aggressively pounding their bodies against each other, pursuing their fulfilment − she threw her head back and sobbed as she felt the wonderful, hot pleasure shake her body at last.
"− yes, my King, yes −" She panted dreamily, her walls began to squeeze steadily around him, with a few helpless, deep thrusts he struggled to prolong what was inevitable and came inside her with a loud sigh of relief, pressing his welted face against hers, breathing loudly along with her, his length twitching and pulsing inside her.
For a moment they simply stared at each other − it was the first time she had seen him so close, his eyebrows, his eyelashes, his shining, healthy eye and the sapphire gleaming in his scarred eye socket. She ran her fingers gently over it, felt him flinch, felt that he didn't know himself what he thought of it.
"− I'm going to wear an eye patch every day −" He explained feigning indifference, as if expressing understanding and presuming that was what she expected him to do. She moved closer and placed a kiss on his scar, felt him tense up all over and swallowed loudly.
"− not in front of me − not in front of your wife − my husband will never hide his face from me again −" She whispered, snuggling into him and he just embraced her, pressing his face against the hollow of her neck, drawing in the scent of her with his nose, his soft manhood still pulsing gently deep inside her. He sighed heavily, as if a huge weight had fallen from his shoulders.
"I have a wedding gift for you."
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Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes
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