#HIs Inheritance

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 35

A/N: The center photo is indicative of the reader's gown only. Not her appearance which isn't defined.

Part 35: Dance with the Devil

Series Masterlist

Words: 5.2k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia, reference to violence and violent acts, intimidation, dark seduction. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

"You are almost ready," Yelena said with a smile, just after the stylists left. "Now the jewelry."

You paused, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your gown was an exclusive creation by a top designer, a beautiful sleeveless, a-line creation in layers of tulle, sequins, and matte satin. Shades of pale blue and gold transformed you, enhanced by the ornate way your hair was done, the subtelty of your carefully applied makeup. Beneath you wore the most elegant little gold heels that were surprising comfortable despite their minimal style. The stockings were sheer, hugging your upper thighs just below the skimpy ice-blue panties you wore.

The mention of jewelry brought up an unhappy memory and you knew Yelena recalled it too when your gaze met hers. How your husband's ex-mistress smuggled her necklace in for you to wear on another special occasion had never been solved.Had it been Neal? Hansen? A reminder from the not-too-distant past that your enemies could reach you at any time. A reminder to be vigilant. 

"What jewelry?" you asked carefully.

Yelena smiled. "I picked it up myself," she told you, lifting a delicate strand of diamonds set in gold from a black velvet box on the bed. 

When she draped it around your throat, you smiled at the way it completed your look. There were matching earrings, diamond studs each with a teardrop diamond dangling and catching the light. The set was exquisite. 

"Harry Winston," your friend told you, admiring how they looked on you.

"Nice of them to loan these for the ball," you told her, grateful you got to wear them. 

Yelena reached for the golden mask on the bed, holding it to you. "No loan. Steve bought them."

What?

"These must have cost a fortune," you mused. They probably cost more than everything else you owned combined. "Glad you're going with us. I'd hate to get mugged for these."

Yelena grinned. "Security is going to be tight already with so many important people there. The mayor will be there. One of the state senators."

You scoffed. "Why am I going? I'm no one special."

"But you are," Yelena told you. 'The fact that everyone wants you has been a powerful motivator in this game of chess. Your husband is completely devoted to you. Barnes would love to get his hands on you."

"Barnes would ring my neck the first chance he got," you pointed out.

Yelena's expression was difficult to read. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Hansen would for sure kill me," you said, putting your mask in place carefully. The soft mask of golden sequins fit over your eyes. 

Yelena's gaze dropped at the mention of the name and you were ashamed. You needed to work harder not to bring that up to her. And you needed a subject change. Fast.

"Who's going to be here with Nat tonight?" You weren't surprised Nat didn't want to go. She'd been through so much between the horrific end of her abusive marriage and all trauma of years being left to the sadistic nature of Banner. You wanted to make sure she was well looked after while you and Steve were gone.

"Clint is staying here of course," Yelena said quietly. "Dyson will be here too. He's arranged for extra security for the house tonight."

You nodded your approval. "What about Scott?"

"He's coming with us," Yelena explained. 

You smiled. Scott going had little to do with keeping you and Steve safe and everything to do with spending time with Yelena. You were pretty sure Yelena was aware of Scott's infatuation with her. Would she ever return his affections? You didn't know. Considering her tragic history, you weren't sure she could feel the same way towards him or anyone. But in the time you'd known Scott, you learned he was a good man who always had your back and never once questioned your authority. You trusted him with your life. You trusted him with Yelena too.

But would she ever give him - or anyone - a chance after all she'd been through?

You blew out an exhale, preparing yourself for the night ahead. "I guess we should let Steve know I'm ready."

"He knows," a deep voice caught you and Yelena both off guard. 

Your husband strolled into the bedroom and Yelena stepped back to allow him a clear path to you. He looked breathtakingly handsome in the classic black tuxedo he wore, tailored perfectly to fit his tall, broad-shouldered physique. His tawny hair was perfectly styled, diamond cufflinks winking in the light. His tie was shades of gold and blue to match your gown, a subtle touch but one you appreciated.

Steve moved to stand behind you in the mirror of your vanity, bending to fit his handsome face in the reflection with yours. 

"You look so beautiful," he said with something like reverence in his voice. "I can't wait to show you off."

"I'll be downstairs," Yelena said, making her way out to give you some privacy. "We worked very hard on her, boss. Don't mess her up."

Steve smiled at what he took as a playful warning, his large hands smoothing over your bare shoulders. Slowly, you removed the mask, placing it in your lap with your hands. His watchful gaze didn't miss the slight tremble of their movements.

"Everything is going to be fine," he explained. "I've been to this event before. All the rich, politic elite of Boston come out to dance and drink the night away and wallow in excess. It's probably Tony's favorite night of the year."

You could see it. And you were excited to go to the annual masquerade ball, as Steve's wife and not his trophy, and to enjoy a fabulous night on the town. You felt like Cinderella, going to the ball in the gown that truly looked as if magic had created it.

But you couldn't fight back an impending sense of dread. It had been so quiet in the weeks of your recovery and Steve's. Life went on. You were included in all the family's business meetings. The family business had recovered and was branching out, deals with three of the other four families made things even better. 

Not that you agreed with all of it. You weren't crazy about the loan sharking or protection deals the family made. The casinos and restaurants didn't bother you as much. And at least the family wasn't making any money off drugs or trafficking. Some of the stories about the business and how other families operated you heard now were just horrific. You made up your mind early that no matter what, you'd never allow the family to make money off the misfortunes of women and children. Never.

It had been very quiet where the Barnes family was concerned. Too quiet.

"I'll  be the envy of every man there tonight," he murmured, pressing a kiss into your neck. The soft brush of his beard made you shiver. A sensual smiled curved Steve's lips. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. You trusted your husband. You were going to do your best to have a wonderful night, just like he intended.

And still that little kernel of dread lingered.

You felt like you were in an old Hollywood movie to walk down the staircase on your husband's arm with the gown flowing softly with your movements. Honestly, you were grateful for Steve's help in keeping you balanced, relieved when you made it to the bottom of the stairs.

Dyson, Yelena, Scott, Clint and Nat were a small crowd, watching in admiration as you approached. Nat's smile was all you needed to feel like a princess. Her lovely green eyes lit up as her gaze swept over you. 

"You look perfect," she exclaimed, carefully hugging you. "I knew that gown was the one."

Nat had been the one to find it when the two of you went out shopping for it. And you were all too happy to give her the credit. You knew very little about fashion. You would learn. Until you did, it was nice to have the advice of someone who already understood it.

As Nat stepped back, you forced yourself to smile. She still looked so small, so frail. She had yet to gain weight and regain her amazing figure. Your sister-in-law seemed fragile, even with the protection and love of the man she'd always wanted. Even with the full support and love of her brother. It worried you.

Dyson looked worried too, but as you did, he put on a quick smile. "You two had best get going. The line at dropoff takes forever."

"True enough," Steve said, nodding to Yelena and Scott.

You stopped to hug Dyson. "Keep her safe for me," you whispered.

"You know I will," he muttered.

Steve whisked you away to the sleek black limousine waiting in the driveway. Its glossy, jet-black exterior reflected the fading sunlight with a mirror-like finish. The long, streamlined body stretched gracefully, its tinted windows offering privacy and adding to its air of mystery. Scott climbed in behind the wheel and Yelena rode shotgun as Steve got you into the back seat, helping you keep your gown away from the doors. Once you were settled, you studied your husband. Something was missing.

"Did you bring a mask?" you asked him. 

Steve smiled, pulling a small black mass from inside his tuxedo coat. No sequins, just a matte black mask he could wear. But he wasn't interested in the mask as he fidgeted with it. He was too busy staring at you.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

You couldn't help the smile the question brought on. "Yes."

Steve looked pleased. "As time goes on and things settle down, we'll get out more. Do more things like this. You look like a princess tonight."

Tears pricked at the backs of your eyes at his heartfelt words. He meant them. He was taking you out to a society function, dressed you up like you were going to the fucking Oscars. A night out like nothing you'd ever experienced before. You'd been excited since he told you he got the tickets a few weeks ago.

"There are going to be a lot of people there, sweetheart," Steve explained quietly. "I'm sure Belova went over everything with you. But I need you to listen. You are going to be with me at all times. If you're not with me, you'll be with Belova and Lang. No wandering off to talk to people or sightsee. Okay?"

You nodded. Yelena had covered the plans thoroughly while she helped you get ready for the evening. 

"If I have to talk business for a moment, Belova will be with you. You have to go to the ladies' room, Belova will be with you," he continued. "Take it easy on the drinks. You're not used to alcohol and I need you vigilant tonight. We're going to have a wonderful time but..."

"I understand," you told him. "Besides, I don't want to miss any part of tonight because I'm drinking. It's my first masquerade ball. I'd like to enjoy every minute of it."

The smile Steve flashed you had your heart fluttering in your chest.

"There will be dancing, right?" you asked.

"Of course," he told you. 

"You'll dance with me?" Would Steve dance with you to a beautiful ballad or classic song?

Reaching over, he tipped up your chin with his fingers, his touch careful. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you when you smile at me like that. I love you."

"I love you, too." 

His lips were a teasing brush against your own but in seconds it deepened, filled with longing and need. 

The sharp wrap on the dark glass that separated the two of you in the back seat of the limo from Scott and Yelena up front scared you. Then the glass slid down just a couple of inches. 

"Later," Yelena admonished. "I worked too hard on her for this party, boss."

You froze thinking that was going to piss your husband off but he laughed. "Okay, sorry," he called back to her.

It made you happy. Ever since everything happened that day between your family and Barnes', your husband and your best friend got along a lot better. Steve was kinder to her, treated her with the same respect as he would any of the men in his employ. That being the case, Yelena felt comfortable enough to tease him about things like tonight. She worked hard on carefully picking her moments with him to tease. She did even better at being thoughtful when offering criticism or advice. The fact that they were getting along better just made your life easier.

"That's supposed to be privacy glass," he said, still grinning.

"Or she's just that good at her job." Honestly, she was.

"After the ball," Steve said once the privacy glass has slid back up, "I want you out of that dress. Especially if you want to keep it."

The sly warning had you grinning. "I would like to keep it. It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen."

"Noted," your husband said. "I'll do my best to contain myself until you get the gown to safety."

The heated looks he cut you the entire way into Boston made you wonder if he'd be able to. You couldn't wait to find out.

Once you reached the venue, you saw there was indeed an endless line of limos in the que leading up to the door. It moved surprisingly fast. Within ten minutes, Scott pulled up to the door and Yelena darted out to open the door for you. Before you could reach for her hand, Steve was there, helping you out of the back of the car with ease and ushering you up the carpeted stairs with Yelena behind you. The decorations and festive lighting dazzled you as you moved along on Steve's arm. The way the soft light reflected off the gown you wore made you feel like you were in a fairytale. 

Steve stopped and greeted more than a few gentlemen on the way into the venue. One man you recognized as a senator and the easy way the two men spoke had you curious. Did the senator know who Steve was? Were they old friends? For a moment, the two of them seemed to forget all going on around them. Just as quickly, the senator's gaze fell on you and the handsome older man smiled. 

"Is this your new bride?" the senator asked.

"She is," Steve replied, introducing you with obvious pride. You meant to shake the man's hand. He kissed the back of yours in an old fashioned gesture. You found him completely charming. 

"Have you been to the masquerade before?" the senator asked.

You shook your head. "This is my first one."

The man smiled. "I hope you enjoy tonight. If I get the chance, I'll introduce you to my wife. It's one of her favorite nights of the year."

"I'd like that," you told him. "It was nice to meet you."

Was it your imagination that Steve watched you with such wonder? Once his conversation with the senator ended, he led you further into the venue where the main ballroom was all prepared, looking like a view from a movie set. 

Clusters of elegant tables arranged in a wide horseshoe shape framed the dance floor, each adorned with lavish centerpieces sparkling beneath the soft glow of the majestic chandelier overhead. The chandelier's light cascaded down like a shimmering waterfall, casting a warm, golden hue over the room, making every surface gleam. A full bar stood ready, offering the finest drinks, while an orchestra played a symphony of enchanting melodies, weaving through the air like a spell. The room was a sea of Boston's political powerhouses, movie stars, and the wealthy elite, all dressed in exquisite gowns and tailored suits, their masks concealing only their identities—not their status. As you paused to take it all in, your husband's familiar warmth pressed against your back, grounding you in the moment as the dazzling scene unfolded before your eyes.

"What do you think?" Steve's whisper at your ear made you shiver.

"I love this," you told him with enthusiasm. "Thank you for bringing me tonight."

"You don't have to thank me." Your husband took your hand, looking like a tawny-haired prince in his tuxedo and black mask, and led you to the dance floor. Your surprise must have shown on your face because he laughed as he swept you into his arms at the edge of the dancing crowd and led you in an easy waltz.

Steve was a wonderful dancer much to your surprise. He led you with an easy grace that you delighted in and found easy to keep up with given your own love of dance. You knew you had to be staring at him but he kept you close, enjoying your surprise.

"When did you learn to dance like this?" you had to ask after he twirled you around gracefully. 

"It's not so hard," he said, his attention solely on you. "Not nearly as hard as your type of dancing."

Ballet was discipline but dancing a perfect waltz wasn't easy either. You were impressed. 

"Is this why you got us all dressed up?" you teased. "So you could show off your dancing skills?"

Steve chuckled. "Is there something wrong with wanting to have a magical night with your wife?"

You were delighted. But you knew it wasn't the only reason Steve brought you here. And now that you were involved in the family business, you weren't offended by the other reason the two of you were there.

Not long before he married you, Steve had acquired a prized property on the outskirts of Boston. He'd been so involved with marrying you and taking over the families he'd neglected it for a time. Now his attention was back on it, plans were being made to develop it. Together, you'd decided on an exclusive resort with fine dining, glitzy nightclubs, and a casino for the wealthy. It was a massive investment and to make it work, certain permits would need to be acquired. The senator and a few key businessmen there tonight could make or break the project that would expand your family's wealth. 

It was a very important night for Steve.

He'd be spending some time talking to these gentlemen tonight which is why Yelena and Scott were there, to keep you safe. You really didn't mind. You felt like Cinderella at the ball in the beautiful gown that flowed and captured the light with your movements as you danced with your husband among the wealthy citizens of the city. As the two of you moved through the dance, you caught a glimpse of Yelena, dressed in her dark suit and standing next to Scott, blending into the background. Your best friend's gaze never left you. Scott's never left her. You smiled, enjoying the beauty of the moment, dancing with your husband at your very first masquerade ball.

When the dance came to an end, it took you a moment to realize it. One of the musicians announced the band would take a short break and be back in just a few minutes. Steve's hand at your lower back urged you to turn. The senator making his way towards you with a lovely older lady at his side. 

The senator's wife was polished from head to toe. Her gown was bright pink layers of satin that matched her lipstick. Otherwise her white hair and face gave her a cold countenance, like she was an ice queen dressed for her best guess at spring. Her eyes were dark, small and mean as her gaze swept over you. The senator assured you that you and his wife would have plenty to talk about. As the woman stood there studying you with pursed lips, you decided talking to her probably wasn't the best idea.

Steve's gaze met yours and he nodded as he let the senator lead him away, leaving you with the judgy woman before you.

"This must be a special night for you," she said tartly.

Straightening your spine, you smiled. "Why is that?"

The woman's white brows rose slightly but a smile played about her lips. "You don't belong here."

"Excuse me?" You kept your smile in place.

"My father was a direct descendent from The Mayflower," she informed you. "We're practically royalty here. We built our fortune through hard work and our good name. You, on the other hand, come from poverty and crime. You father crawled out the shadows and robbed good people blind. That's why you have the money to play dress up and act like you belong here. We all know your husband fancies himself some sort of underworld prince. But he doesn't belong here either."

Oh, no, she didn't just put you and your husband down. Lifting your chin, you looked her in the eye.

"Your ancestors came over on a ship over four hundred years ago and nobody cares anymore," you told her. "You can pretend to be royalty, and tell yourself you made your money working hard and protecting your good name. But the sad truth is, your family made your money the same way mine did. In fact, your family probably paid mine to keep from getting your hands dirty or to protect your interests. And my husband is the king of Boston's underworld and so was my father before him. You may be someone in society right now, but your husband is currently anelected official. If you were smart, you'd spending a little more time being respectful."

Gracefully as you could manage, you turned your back to the rude woman and marched off. Yeah, maybe you hurt your husband's chances of getting the permits you needed for the project development once she talked to her husband. But you weren't about to put up with someone like that. 

You looked all around for Yelena. You were dying to tell her about the conversation you'd just had. But you weren't watching where you were going and you collided with someone hard.

And whoever he was, he caught you in his arms, sweeping you out onto the dance floor as another waltz began. He was as tall as your husband and the scent of his expensive cologne was familiar. You realized who held you a beat before he spoke, a low purr by your ear.

"Did you miss me, beautiful?"

Barnes.

Easing back, you glanced up at your uninvited dancing partner, wearing an aura of allure and danger with ease. Barnes' chiseled jawline was partially obscured by the intricately designed black mask he wore, adorned with silver accents catching the light. Those steely-blue eyes were shadowed but still piercing, glinting with a cold intensity as his gaze met yours.

His tuxedo was entirely black and tailored to perfection, hugging his muscular frame effortlessly. His attire seemed to absorb the light, creating a sense that he came from the shadows. Even his shirt was dark onyx, subtle embroidery only revealing itself when he moved. And he felt strong as he held you, solid and healed.

Stop staring at the man and answer.

"I haven't thought about you at all," you told him, trying to sound nonchalant but not quite hitting that note.

As much as you hated to admit it, Barnes was undeniably handsome. From the way his hair was slicked back with precision to the confident smirk curling his lips, the man was... magnetic. But there was a sinister edge beneath the polished surface. There always had been. Barnes' posture was too poised, his movements too calculated. Every inch of him whispered danger, a wolf in the presence of unsuspecting lambs.

Pulling you close to him, Barnes chuckled. "I don't believe that. I think you I live rent free in that beautiful head of yours."

"Maybe," you said, feeling his smile widen. "I do think about how I wished we'd used more poison."

Now he laughed, a deep rich sound. "I don't doubt that."

"What do you want?" You looked anywhere but at him. Still, you were so focused on the predator that held you, you weren't really seeing your surroundings. The music, the lights, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

"What do you think I want?" Barnes asked.

As Barnes swept you around the floor, your mind scrambled for a comeback. "Your hands around my throat," you said, going with honesty. "And me dead?"

Leaning in, he ran his nose gently up the column of your neck, making you shiver. "Oh, I did. I really did. And I could have made that happen."

You were dangerously close to having him think he had the upper hand here. "No, you couldn't."

Again, he chuckled. "You've got it all figured out, don't you?" Releasing you only long enough to spin you in the dance, he pulled you back into him tightly. "You made peace with your husband. You're now involved in the family business. I would call Steve a pussy for even thinking about that if it were any other woman. But you're not just any woman. But you're special."

You missed a step in your alarm. How the hell did Barnes know you were in the all the family business meetings now? And that you and Steve had made peace? The questions triggered your anxiety, reminding you of the days early in your marriage when Neal had been Barnes' rat and you were always looking over your shoulder. Was someone else talking to Barnes?

"A long time ago, your mother seduced my father," Barnes whispered. "She tore my family apart. And when you came along and you weren't the poor disfigured little girl we were told you were, I assumed you were a little whore like your mother. You look almost exactly like her. Has anyone told you that?"

You didn't answer, trying hard to put a little space between the two of you. Where was Steve? It wouldn't be too conspicuous if he broke in on the dance. If Yelena or Scott came to save you, it could create a scene and unwanted attention. 

"I even thought maybe, horrible thought I know," Barnes went on, "that you might be my half-sister. But it didn't take me long to realize that wasn't true either. Besides, that devious little mind in there, hidden behind all that beauty? You didn't get that from your mother. Or my father."

"What's it to you?" you snapped at him, trying to pull off pissed even though you held anger and fear in equal measure. "I'm Steve's wife. He's your boss. You'd do well to remember that."

Barnes was unfazed. "You're Steve's wife. For now. But he can't handle you." Barnes leaned closer, his gaze locking with yours. "You should belong to someone stronger."

Now you really were getting pissed. "I don't need you or any man, including my husband, to tell me who I am and what I should be doing," you said.

"You may be right," he purred. "But it's that attitude, that fire. It got me thinking... I had the wrong idea about you from the beginning. Yeah, all the bitterness from the past clouded my judgment for a while. I wanted you dead and buried next to your loser husband." When you tried to pull free of him, he tightened his grip. His grin widened. "Now I realize you're exactly what I need."

"For what?" You didn't know how much of your glare he got from behind your mask.

"To finally take my rightful place," he said as if it were gospel. "The position occupied by your current husband."

Current husband? Who the fuck did he think he was?

"Our children will be kings and queens," Barnes went on. "That dynasty would rule Boston for decades."

"My children with Steve will rule Boston," you told him angrily. "And when we're done with you, no one will even remember the Barnes family."

"One day," he said with meaning, leaning closer, "you'll be mine."

Despite yourself, you shivered. Barnes caught it.

"You want me too," he whispered. "I'll make you admit it."

As the song neared its end, you were prepared to do whatever you had to do to get away from the bastard, the man who'd done so much damage to your family. As the last strains of the symphony ended, Barnes released you to bow. You did curtsy to him, then you straightened.

"I will never be yours." You meant it with every fibre of your being. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find my husband."

Barnes' grin didn't fade. "Better find a way to keep him safe."

You spun on your heel, marching off the dance floor. You needed air, and a moment to calm down. You were blinking back tears, you were that angry. You felt someone on your heels as you made you way out of the main event room out ornate glass doors left open. It was chilly out there but you welcomed it, fighting back anger.

"Are you okay?" Yelena asked, her hand at your back as you gripped the railing and hung on. 

"No, I'm not... o-fucking-kay," you said, trying to regain your composure. "He came out of nowhere."

"He did," Yelena said. "He got to you so quickly after you talked to the senator's wife."

"Where's Steve?" you asked.

"Talking very intently to the senator," she replied. "It appears to be going well."

You had to wonder if that would still be true once the senator's wife caught a moment to tell her husband and your little "talk."

But you had bigger problems right now. Barnes.

"Barnes is all healed up," you told her. Looking beyond her, you saw Scott by the entranceway back into the ball. "And he's got big plans."

"He wants you," Yelena said it. "That much was obvious. It gives me some idea of his plans."

You nodded. "Don't say anything to Steve or Scott right now. I just want to find a glass of champagne to take the edge off and get through the rest of the ball."

With any luck, you could maybe enjoy one more magical dance with Steve before the evening ended.

You couldn't, however, complain. You wanted to be in on the family business and this was part of it. Barnes, unfortunately, was also part of it.  And he'd just announced his intentions to you and you realized now it was the pit that had been in your stomach the entire evening. 

Barnes would keep tearing your life apart until he was stopped. Somehow between his drastic plans and the animosity between you and your husband, you'd found your way to a happy marriage. A path to be queen in this world. And you'd be damned if you let Barnes threaten that future.

"You're going to tell Steve, right?" 

"I am." You didn't miss the concern in Yelena's voice. "I'm telling all of you. But not here."

Nodding her agreement, Yelena watched as you straightened, steeled yourself to return to the event. 

"Let's find you a glass of champagne, boss," she said with a wink.

Boss? Now that put the smile back on your face. 

@valsworldofcreativity @21stcenturywitchcraft @coconutqueen21 @bval-1 @caffiend-queen @sadlittlecountess @candy-and-writing @capsicle-shield @chaoticfiretaconerd @chrisevansgirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @coldmuffinbanditshoe @daughterofthenight117 @hv-chw3 @iheartsebstan @imanuglywombat @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @justrae9903 @lokislastlove @mariaenchanted @maxwelllee2020 @nekoannie-chan @nerdwholikesword @notyourtypicalrose @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @peaceinourtime82 @rainbowkisses31 @rayofdawnworld @richonne4life @rissysthoughts-blog @saiyanprincessswanie @scarletsoldier21-blog @shygirl-00 @supernaturaldean67 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @team-iron-wannabe-man @titty-teetee @tonib666 @villanellev @vitamingummies @what-is-your-plan-today @what-is-your-wish @xoxabs88xox @rosalynshields @naturalthrone22 @marvelovernfan @gotnofucks @eralen @kawairinrin @bluemusickid @geminievans1 @daughterofthenight117 @sunmoonandbuckyrecs @jesevans @kandis-mom @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @kmc1989 @curiousandjoyous @marvelouslyme96 @patzammit

[voicesandthoughts]

She stands on golden land with heavy shoes

The valleys sown with blood reflected only sometimes, in the moon

She wears the foreign violence of her homeland like armor

Trying to shield herself from the father, and every other marauder

Her true mother's hands blanket walks down the shore

Knowing here, at this lake before, that the bloodied gold was all but half the color whom made her

They always came here to paint together,

but the woman above would point out a turtle with her brush

"You see it's shell? Misshapen and intruding as the evening stormcloud while the others, they are worth my canvas"

Though, you know, the clouds were always pretty

Stretching wide and broken forms still showering the needy

Like the cloud cursed shell, I was never worth the canvas, nor her time

but time to time to boast of public love or encourage private studies

Far too scared to ask, I prayed for god to address my needs, please

though one day my chest was the canvas for her long and rusted nails

Leaving me to run my hand over every place she impaled as she kicked back ales

I'd rather be forgotten than made an art that wasn't my own

and so I went somewhere else

Somewhere I could forget how to be

I think the bacteria still lives in me, even here, seeping into fresh tears ("t-air")

It grows an infection and turns my thoughts into hotels

We both have asked, what the fuck is wrong with me

I think there's always something I can't quite see

[chiptrillino-art]

(ID in ALT Text) Happy very, very late Mother's Day!

I am not saying that zuko is sokkas substitute for kya. or they look in any way similar! The whole concept here is that something was happening at the moment, be it how they were laying in bed, how the hair pooled over the pillow, or how sokka was able to hold onto it. It just brought sokka back. It triggered a memory, and suddenly he relived a brief memory. Making him suddenly miss his mother again. hope you enjoy!

[chloesimaginationthings]

IDK what William Afton expected to happen in FNAF..

[laikabu]

love the idea of these three emotionally inept, severely underprepared, overworked geeks raising a toddler (without the help of their friends who actually know how to care for one) on top of governing a small country. it’s addicting.

[emacrow]

Damian and the Dumpster baby.

Damian was doing patrols, with a bit of a minor rescuing and feeding the strays animals until he heard a noise from a dumpster.

Tonight was going to be a storm coming, and he rather check up on the strays, feed them, fixing any of the secure hiding places he put out for them for rain occasionally, and try to smuggle 1 or 6 into the barn again without Father knowing. Alfred can keep a secret sometimes.

Jumping on the edge of the dumpster to see a plastic bag tied up on the pile of trash with something squirming inside, alive obviously. Oh if this another group of puppies, he going to find the culprit himself and break their kneecaps and arms this time.

Easily untying the plastic bag and opening to reveal.. a little baby.

Not a kitten or a puppy, a living breathing human baby, cut and tied umbilical and a pale with a unique birth mark in a shape of a lichtenberg from his tiny hand fading to his chest.

This..

This was out of Damian's comfort line.

He had dealt with saving animals, people, children, hell even toddlers. He never dealt with a baby before much less a newborn.

He could panic later as he hear the sounds of a storm brewing. Carefully picking up the baby by the back of the head and and by the body, using his cape to as a blanket to cover the obvious nudity of the baby. Climbing onto his Red Robin theme Doom Buggy.

Taking care of a baby is no different then taking care of a baby animal, right?

.....

.....

.....

.....

He got caught after 5 month and a half by Alfred during feeding Danyal time, while scolded him about hiding the baby instead of coming to him.

He had a good reason to though, last time he told Alfred about the last newest addition, Bruce sended the Jafar the Ligor to a sanctuary. He still felt betrayed by that.(even though now Jafar is happily spending his days with the other mixed big cat breed but still)

He done a good enough job taking care of Danyal, even though he had to secretly look up baby stuff, medicine, clothes, a soft bedded cot and diapers.(the smell was much less worse then the sewer) he considered himself a great care-taker.(even though in the back of his mind, he feared that he might had unlocked that genetic adopt-bat bait traits that Dick warned him about)

Damian had gotten.. a bit attached, considering the idea of putting danyal in orphanage or a foster care wasn't ideal afterall the corrupted ones that Father and him had broken through over the years left a bad gut feeling if he had actually gone through with his plan. Danyal was one of his babies, only not covered in fur, scales, or a shell.

And he didn't do everything all on his own, Cass was the only who figured it out, kept it a secret and help out.. then steph found out... and Jason, Tim and Duke unfortunately found out after Cass and steph snuck danyal in the manor for a nice bath.

Only reason Dick didn't found out because everyone know he can't keep a secret away from Bruce's ear for long after found out Jason's new girlfriend was the new therapist in Gotham, and telling Bruce would feed his adopt-holic again and he end up having baby fever. (Tim didn't tell him what that word meant but he did look it up in a baby care guide book for new parents. And EW)

They were going to wait it out til Danyal was at least toddler age before sneaking him in the manor to gatekeep gaslight girlboss Father into thinking he already adopted him. (Steph's words, not his)

New post <-

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thanks for listening to my sad backstory. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[crustaceousfaggot]

Shout out to Cishet White Teenager Christopher Paolini for realizing that if you give people infinite time, a completely non-judgemental society, and the power to change their bodies any way they want, lots of people are gonna start doing Freaky Anthro Transgenderism on themselves.

Like yeah, if I had the option I'd probably turn myself into a bizzare eldritch creature too

[undertheredhood]

any dc character: *confessing something about their past they kept hidden out of fear/shame*

their batfam bff who had already known for a while and is now desperately trying to hide that they knew the truth this entire time: “oh, wow! that is so crazy, i am so sorry you had to go through that.”

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 34

Part 34: Renewal

Series Masterlist

Words: 3.9k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia, reference to violence and violent acts, references to sexual violence. Strong language. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

Your very amorous husband was waiting for you when you walked into the bedroom you shared, his eyes bright and cheeks flushed. Steve swept you up into his arms the second the door was closed, shoving you back into it with surprising force. His lips scorched yours with a need that took your breath away as you hung on, his hips grinding into you, trapping your lower body between his and the door. 

When his mouth blazed a trail across your cheek to your neck, you took a deep breath. You needed him with the same desperation, but the two of you had to talk first. Carefully, you worked your hands between you, trying to gently push him back.

"Nuh-uh," he muttered against the sensitive skin of your throat, the brush of his beard pushing your own desire even higher. "Later."

"Steve," you tried as his lips danced over your skin, just the way you liked. You hesitated to enjoy that. It was all the time he needed to sweep you away from the door with a speed that surprised you considering in his recovery. Your back met the bed in the space of a heartbeat and Steve was on you the next, stripping off his suit coat like it was on fire. 

"I know you want to talk," he said breathlessly between heated kisses. "I just... can't wait."

You'd dressed up in case you were needed in that meeting. Your husband's blue-eyed gaze swept over you lustfully as he worked his blood-red tie loose. His big hands just ripped open the black silk blouse you wore, tiny buttons flying as he did. The snap of your bra stung your skin as he impatiently tore that off and tossed it away. He went after your breasts with his hands and mouth, teasing your nipples. His handling was a little rougher than normal. His tongue was a fleeting tease on one nipple, an apology for his soft bite which came next.

Without any thought, your hands worked their way into his silky hair, pulling a moan from him that was indecent. Before long you struggled to remember what was so urgent you needed to talk about it now.

Your entire body was burning up. Your thighs were clenched around his slender waist, one hand clamped over one firm ass cheek, urging him to get on with it. You were getting light-headed. The intensity of your desire had your soaked panties clinging to you obscenely.

He paused long enough to pull what was left of your blouse completely off you. You tried to sit up to help him but he none-too-gently pushed you back. It was worth it when he ripped his own shirt open, even though you winced at the bullet wound that was still healing. All those tattoo-covered muscles had you shivering in need. Still your fingers gently traced around the wound and you looked to him in concern. 

Batting your hand away, he shook his head. "No."

"Your stitches," was all you could manage to whisper as he moved down your body. 

"Doc can restitch me," Steve told you, the ripping sound of your skirt giving way loud in the cool, silence of your bedroom. Instinctively, you reached for the strap of your heels and again, he brushed your hand away. "No. They stay."

You were all laid out across your bed in black stockings, black panties, and four-inch strappy heels. Now that he had you exactly where he wanted you, Steve threw off the remains of his shirt and pressed his face into your panties. Moaning, he rubbed his face in you. Embarassment heated your face at how wet they were already. He picked up on it, chuckling.

"And you wanted to talk," he teased, his hand twisting in the wet crotch and pulling them off you with little effort. 

You were anything but prepared when he dove into you. Wrapping those heavily-muscled arms around your thighs, he pinned your lower half to the bed. Your husband held you there and took you apart with his lips and tongue. At first he avoided where you needed his touch the most, chuckling darkly at making you squirm, at having you fighting to get closer to his mouth. 

Steve had you so worked up that by the time his tongue finally gave your neglected clit the attention it craved, you came screaming into your hands. The intensity of the orgasm had you struggling to breathe, fighting his iron grip on you. He didn't let up, his wicked tongue robbing you of your sanity as one release bled into another. His hot breath, the softness of his beard, the maddening patterns his tongue burnt into you had you right back on the edge in no time while you tried to catch your needy cries and moans in your hands. 

Just before he sent you sailing again, he wrenched one arm free and slapped your ass hard. "I want to hear you," he growled.

"Steve?" His name was a high, desperate sound that died on your lips as he kept at you. His tongue zeroed in on your clit and the sight of his tawny head between your legs was your undoing. Your hands flew to your mouth and he smacked you again, harder. The sting was so good, pushing you over the edge until you screamed. His tongue never stopped moving, sharp slaps of his hand on your ass had you howling as you came hard enough for your vision to fade.

Dazed, you just focused on breathing as he hauled you up the bed. You were sort of aware of him reaching back over the bed for something. A flash of red. He already had one of your hands secured to the bedpost with the crimson silk of his tie by the time you realized what he was doing. 

"Someone's having a hard time listening today," he said with a tight grin when you couldn't pull your hands off the bars at all. "I want to hear you. I want the entire house to hear you."

You were both fearful and excited at the darkened glance he wore now. When he moved above you, he was all you could see. The earthy smell of him was all around you, invading your senses. His head dipped to claim your mouth in a searing kiss, letting you taste your own juices on his lips. When he was done, you were panting and he wasn't even touching you.

The desire in his expression made you pause.

"I want the entire fucking neighborhood to hear how good I fuck you," he warned.

At the moment, you couldn't say that you cared at all who heard what as long as he fucked you. Now. But you knew you would care later and that anxiety only fanned the flames of your own lust. When his fingers slid through your slick folds, you bit your lip in frustration. When he worked one long, rough finger into you, your body clenched around it in sheer need.

When he pushed in two fingers, you groaned, moving your hips with his tantalizing touch. It was good. But you wanted more. Using the sleek heel strapped to your right foot, you nudged him at his lower back. You wanted his cock so bad right now. And the bastard knew it too.

"You want more?" Steve asked, knowing the answer to his question.

You nodded, your gaze on that swollen part of him he was touching over the expensive suit pants he still wore. You weren't surprised at how fast he undid those slacks, pushing them down his slim hips, kicking them off. What you didn't see coming was how quickly he moved up your body, straddling your chest and putting exactly what you wanted right in front of your face, long, hard, and swollen.

Before he could say something clever, you got your mouth on that. Your hands were tied but that did little to stop you. It was gratifying to hear your husband make that desperate little sob above you. As you working him with your mouth, making a mess but loving it, he clutched the headboard above you with both hands, his hips working with you with a little force. You adjusted, let him hit the back of your throat. You gagged once or twice but gave as good as you got, even with your hands out of play.

You pulled another sob from him, and that sound had you desperate for some relief yourself. Using your tongue, you teased the underside of him, just the way he liked. When he slid back, you moved your mouth away, taking one of his balls into your mouth and teasing it in all the ways you knew he loved.

That was when he stopped, laughing and breathless. Steve pulled himself out of reach. With a hand, he stroked himself, and you just knew he was too close. Wiping your mouth the best you could on your shoulder and panting from your efforts, you grinned up at him. Shifting your body, you wrapped your legs around his thighs and your dancer's legs were strong. You almost succeeded in toppling him, getting him where you wanted him. 

Steve shook his head, his grin one of pure delight. "I love my ferocious little queen," he said.

"Then give her what she wants," you dared him, sounding as wrecked as he did. "If you have enough strength left."

His brows shot up at that. And you could tell he was tiring. But you weren't going to get away with throwing down that challenge and you knew it. And Steve played right into your hands. 

Positioning himself on his knees between your thighs, he pulled your lower body to him. And you were drenched. Steve impaled you in the blink of an eye. He split you open fast and the quick flash of pain from so many nights without him dulled when compared to the sensations of having him inside you again. He stretched your walls and held, strong hands gripping your hips tightly. Quickly, your hands reached for the bars they were bound to, hoping to brace yourself for the ride you knew was coming.

He didn't disappoint. The entire bed shook as he fucked you, sharp quick thrusts hit all the hidden triggers inside you. You tried to keep quiet but you didn't last long. The push and drag of his cock against your slick walls that tried to grab him had your head spinning. Watching all those muscles work across his chest and heavy arms, watching the black ink of those tattoos dance made you insane. You moaned and wailed just as he wanted and you didn't give a good damn who in the house or beyond heard you as long as he didn't stop.

It wasn't long until your vision was fading and your pussy tightened around him as release chased you. Your heels dug into his ass as you urged him to keep going, to speed up. Your husband kept at you, his thrusts sharp and fast, punching the air from your lungs. When you came, you screamed. Pleasure flooded your bloodstream and the world spun away from you as your twisted and cried out, captive beneath him. 

He didn't wait for you to recover. All too quickly, you drifted back. It wasn't like you had a choice. Steve was still fucking you hard, one hand now between your legs. His fingers were delicate on the pearl he played with, a perfect counterpoint for the sheer force he was using to fuck you into oblivion. 

But it was all too much. You were too sensitive, tried to move your body away from that touch. Steve looked as wrecked as you felt above you, his mouth slack, his fingers and hips working frantically. Strands of his tawny hair were stuck to his forehead. He wasn't stopping. With all that color flooding his face, neck and chest, you knew he was so close. You also knew he wouldn't relent until he brought you off one more time.

You just didn't know if that was even possible. Your breath came fast, you pussy walls tried to grab him and failed. Steve pounded you over and over until he pushed you off the ledge and you were sailing. He jumped off after you, his final thrusts bringing an edge of pain that made your pleasure that much sweeter as your bodies worked together in a devastating climax.

You husband collapsed on top of you but didn't stay there long. Carefully, he lifted from you, his cock pulling free making you wince from the movement. Oh, you were going to be sore in so many ways from your lower body to your wrists that he carefully untied. When he collapsed onto his back next to you, you rolled to snuggle into his side. Fortunately, it wasn't the side of his chest where the wound was. 

You both panted as you laid there, recovering. Steve hummed in contentment, his fingers tracing small patterns over your shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

You snorted. "Are you?" 

"It's getting better." His voice was raspy now. "I'm not a hundred percent yet. But I will be."

I will be. That's what you wanted to hear.

"What happened?" You wanted to know. Barnes left earlier looking very unhappy and here was Steve, fucking you like a conquering hero in his state of excitement. He did well then in the meeting he called with the families of Boston. You were both relieved and happy for him. "Why did Barrnes leave within the first half hour?"

Your husband's triumphant gaze met yours. "Who told you that?"

You shook your head. "I saw. They drove him slowly around the front of the house. He rolled down his window and just stared at the house from the back seat. It was creepy."

You read determination in that blue-eyed gaze. "You know I'm never going to let him anywhere near you, right?"

With a sigh, you nodded. But you knew a lot more about his world after all you'd been through.

"How are you going to avoid that?" You needed to be realistic. "I'm not going to be Rapunzel in her tower here, Steve. I spent too many years already, locked away for my safety. I'm your wife. I'm going to be out in the world. And I'll need to make appearances with you. I can handle myself."

Worry crept into his expression. It darkened those baby blues, diminished the moment. You didn't want to go in that direction. Not right now.

"Tell me what happened," you re-directed impatiently. "I've been dying here."

Just like that, he smiled. Oh, he was proud of himself about something. You made a mental note to get Dyson's account later. Probably tomorrow. You knew it was going to be good. 

It was a testament to Steve's recovery that he was still up and around and able to do what he just did to you. It was the first day he'd been out of bed so long and while you admired him for making it this far, you were a little worried about the impact it could have on his recovery. Carefully, you sat up in bed next to him.

And you listened carefully as he told you everything from the meeting. You would have loved to see him laying down the law to the other famiilies, getting in Barnes' face when he shamelessly owned the horrific things he was guilty of and took him to task for challenging his leadership. You listened, enjoying how animated he was in telling you how it all went down. It was obvious he was happy with how it went.

It was obvious Steve was taking the heavy reigns of leadership he was so eager to have with a new atittude. Now he saw the position for what it really was. Leading the five families was a heavy burden, something he could no longer take for granted. 

Just like he'd stopped taking you for granted.

You paused a moment, wanting to make sure he had time to explain everything.Your heart sang at how animated he was, the color back in his face. The doctor assured you he'd make a full recovery and if he was this animated to the other family leads, his strength wouldn't be in question. At least, not as much.

"Wait," you said, going over his story in your head. "How much about what happened was brought up in your confrontation with Barnes?"

Steve's smile widened. "Well, I made it known that both you and Nat were victims of Barnes' scheming. Thor Odinson pointed out that Nat may have deserved what happened to her because she was cheating on Banner. I just didn't know how widely that bit of knowledge spread."

Your husband must have noticed your agitation because he quickly added, "I pointed out that Banner had been plotting with Barnes in hopes of being his new consigliere. That allowed me to mention that he'd also conspired with Neal."

You shuddered, remembering how Hansen shot Neal in the face without a thought. 

"Barnes tried to paint me as weak," Steve explained. "He claimed it was too easy to hit those who I'm supposed to protect. Shops on our turf, my people, my sister... my wife."

"But you did protect us." You wouldn't let him doubt himself now. "Steve, that bullet might have killed me."

His expression softened at that. Sadness crept into his expression.

"Taking a bullet for you shouldn't have been necessary," Steve told you somberly. "Everything that led up to that? It was my fault. I didn't listen to you. I let my egotistical view of who I thought I should be and who I thought you should be cloud my judgment. I believed Neal over you. I could have lost you."

"But you didn't." You smoothed a hand over the side of his face. Turning his face, he pressed a kiss into your palm. "I'm still here. Nat and Dyson? They are still here."

It didn't seem to relieve the tension in his face. "As you've seen for yourself, my world, our world is dangerous. I think you understand now just how dangerous it is. Barnes is struggling physically. But, like me, he'll recover. If nothing else, pure willpower and the need for revenge will pull him along. I'm not the only one he's going to come after."

Steve didn't have to tell you that Bucky Barnes would be coming for you. You knew that. 

And you put up a good front for him, for everyone in the family. You wanted them to believe you were unafraid. And you were pretty sure they believed you. A chill ran down your spine as you stopped to consider that one day, you'd have to face off against the enemy you made. A man who already hated you because of your mother's deeds. A man that sent Hansen after you, starting an unnatural obsession with him that could have resulted in your death twice. 

And the way Barnes himself looked at you? It gave you chills just to think about it.

"Ever since I came out of the coma," Steve said slowly, "I just... I can't believe I actually allowed you to go in the first place."

"You changed your mind five minutes later. Steve, you were there."  You made him look at you, meet your gaze. "You saved me. And I trust you to keep me safe from Barnes. I trust you to keep all of us safe."

When he dropped his head, your heart squeezed in your chest. "You shouldn't trust me."

"Steve, you've never been in this position before," you told him. "You're learning."

"Well, I need to learn faster," he told you. "What good is leadership if I can't protect the ones I love?"

"Steve, you're figuring it out." You willed him to believe you. "You're not the only one learning. I knew nothing about your world when you pushed your way into it. I've made mistakes. I'm learning too."

Shaking his head, Steve blew out a sigh. "And in a short period of time, you could see things about my world I missed. You were way ahead of me."

No, you weren't letting him beat himself up now after everything you'd been through.

"We have another shot at it." You needed him to understand. "But we have to deal with Barnes to have any chance of keeping you on the throne."

And he was all too aware of that. But when his gaze returned to yours, he said, "I don't even fucking care about the throne. Not if I lose you."

"Steve, I'm right here," you told him, your heart squeezing your chest. 

Your conversation had taken a dark, angsty turn. It wasn't the way you saw the rest of the evening going. It really wasn't. But there was another issue you needed to address with your husband before things went the way you intended for them to. 

"You know, before this last confrontation, we weren't in the best place in our marriage, Steve," you said quietly. 

Slowly, he nodded. "You're right.  I'd confined you to this room because Neal told me what had happened the day the so-called nurse came to the house. I was pissed that you lied to me."

You had to own that one. "I did lie to you. In my defense, you were talking about starting a family and I was scared. As much as I care about you now, at the time I wasn't ready to start a family. I wasn't ready to be someone's wife. But still, I could have communicated that to you." 

"Apparently, I didn't made you feel safe enough to try and talk to me about that," Steve said.

That was also true.

"Sweetheart, if we're going to survive," he said, "no more secrets. I've made you part of my council. I'm trusting you with everything. I expect the same. It's the only way I can protect you."

"I agree to that." You meant it. "But I need you to promise me that you'll stop trying to push me in directions I'm not ready for."

"Yeah, cause it's not even possible." Steve's gaze held yours. Slowly, he nodded. "Can I ask for things I want?"

Something told you he was referring to starting a family. You blew out an exhale. You might be open to that one day. But not until you had the business with Barnes and the challenges to Steve's authority completely dealt with.

"Will you take no for an answer?"

Steve grinned. "I can be persuasive."

Yeah, you knew just how persuasive he could be.

@valsworldofcreativity @21stcenturywitchcraft @coconutqueen21 @bval-1 @caffiend-queen @sadlittlecountess @candy-and-writing @capsicle-shield @chaoticfiretaconerd @chrisevansgirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @coldmuffinbanditshoe @daughterofthenight117 @hv-chw3 @iheartsebstan @imanuglywombat @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @justrae9903 @lokislastlove @mariaenchanted @maxwelllee2020 @nekoannie-chan @nerdwholikesword @notyourtypicalrose @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @peaceinourtime82 @rainbowkisses31 @rayofdawnworld @richonne4life @rissysthoughts-blog @saiyanprincessswanie @scarletsoldier21-blog @shygirl-00 @supernaturaldean67 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @team-iron-wannabe-man @titty-teetee @tonib666 @villanellev @vitamingummies @what-is-your-plan-today @what-is-your-wish @xoxabs88xox @rosalynshields @naturalthrone22 @marvelovernfan @gotnofucks @eralen @kawairinrin @bluemusickid @geminievans1 @daughterofthenight117 @sunmoonandbuckyrecs @jesevans @kandis-mom @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @kmc1989 @curiousandjoyous @marvelouslyme96

[del-stars]

sorry but i kind of want regulus who was more like 'thank god that loud fucking bitch got out of here & now i'm an only child. when can i have his room'

[jtargaryen18]

Thank you so much 💕🙏💕

Okay I’m kinda liking the look in this photo….

[ficandkaboodle]

At least once every day, I think about Primo’s costume and Nihil’s costume and I almost want to laugh because just look at this shit

The contrast is just wild.

Primo’s costume is exactly that: It’s made with that same shiny materials as a Disney Princess dress-up outfit is. Meanwhile, Nihil’s is all extravagant and I look at that and I’m like “Yeah, that is indeed a Satanic Pope of the Satanic Church, mhm.”

And I absolutely understand why this is. I completely understand that when Tobias started Ghost, there just wasn’t enough in the budget for something too insane. I mean, Primo’s mask is a generic old man’s. They just needed enough of the costume to communicate what they were about and, for as costumey (derogatory) as it was, it did just that. Well done, Tobias and Primo.

But then. Ghost’s costuming just gets more and more intense and ornate with each passing guy until you wind up with Copia, who is essentially a blue art deco disco ball.

So you kinda just. Have to look at Primo and try to reconcile some sort of in-universe explanation as to why his father and brothers are all dripped to the devils while he’s. Like that.

Personally, I like the idea that his devotion to Satan means he doesn’t care as much about his appearance because, in his mind, obsessing over detail distracts from his message about his god.

Or, better yet, as we recognize that Primo was actually batshit insane and hated people, he probably was just asked by the satanic tailors what touches he would like done to his chasuble and he just went “Idfc we’re all trash and are gonna die anyway, just make sure it has red on or or whatever 😒”

[officialmiintee]

WE NEED INDIVIDUAL PICS OF SAKURA AND SUO 3RD YEAR VERSIONS ASLDKFJGHJFKDSLOWERITGH DROOLING SCREAMING PULLING MY HAIR OUT

-🧊

im more than happy to indulge, so here’s my third year furin 6 headcanons!

[canisalbus]

Hypothetically if. If they had a kiddo. A puppy. Does that hypothetical child have a design in your genius artist head anywhere

.