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gwens-love · 2 days ago

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The space he left behind

Summary: After Nicky’s passing, Agatha doesn’t know how to handel being a good mother to her daughter, and a partner to Rio. She navigates her grief while struggling to reconnect. As Rio hopes to recover the love that binds their family.

Warnings: Angst, grief and loss.

Word count: 1.7k

~Agathario x daughter!reader~

A/N: I used google translate for this sorry if there are mistakes.

Please don’t copy/steal or translate this work thanks.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~

As you wandered through the library with a book in hand, you looked up at Agatha, or better said your Mama. She was busy, but you missed the comfort of her voice, the warmth she used to give so freely.

“Mama?” you asked softly, hoping you weren’t interrupting her too much.

Her eyes flicked to you, and a small, sad smile appeared on her face. She had been distant since Nicky was gone, but there was still a part of her that wanted to be here for you, to love you the way he would’ve wanted.

“What is it, little one?” she replied, her voice softer than you’d heard it in days.

You held up the book, looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Can you read this to me, Mama?”

Agatha looked down at you, her expression conflicted. She reached for the book, fingers trembling slightly, and let out a deep sigh. “Maybe… maybe later, my love. I’m… I’m not quite ready today.”

Your heart ached a little, but you nodded. “Can… Mami read it to me, then?”

Agatha’s expression softened, and she glanced down the hallway where Rio was bustling around. Rio heard your voice and peeked in, her face lighting up with a gentle smile as she approached, kneeling down beside you.

“Of course, mi corazón,” Rio said, taking the book from you and winking at Agatha. “Mama and I both have time for our little reader tonight.”

Agatha gave Rio a grateful smile, her hand resting briefly on Rio’s shoulder. Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay together, they would find their way forward, for you.

You nestled into Rio’s side as she settled down with the book, her aura carrying a mix of nature’s calm and something far more powerful… the kind of energy you could feel in your bones. To you, she was Mami, warm and loving, but everyone else knew her as the green witch or Death with a capital D. Her touch felt like spring’s renewal and autumn’s quiet decay, life and death balanced in her very presence.

Rio opened the book, her fingers gliding delicately over the pages. “Are you ready for an adventure, mi amor?” she asked, her voice rich and velvety, holding that magical spark that always made your heart race a little faster.

You nodded eagerly, glancing over at Agatha, who sat nearby. She was watching the two of you with a softness in her eyes, though you could sense a shadow in her heart. Rio noticed too, her gaze meeting Agatha’s, a look passing between them a silent understanding of grief, love, and the weight of the responsibilities they shared.

As Rio began to read, her voice wove the story into something almost real. Her words seemed to hang in the air, each sentence wrapping around you like an invisible charm. You leaned in closer, comforted by her presence, while Agatha, though still distant, stayed close enough to remind you she wasn’t going anywhere.

With both Mama and Mami by your side, you knew you were safe, held between life and death, love and sorrow, warmth and magic. And for now, that was enough.

As Rio’s voice wrapped you in the story, the words began to blur. You found yourself glancing over at Mama, who was watching the two of you with that faraway look in her eyes the one she had whenever anyone mentioned him.

You shifted, looking down at the edge of your blanket, and softly asked, “Mama? Where… where did Nicholas go?”

The question hung in the air, pulling both of them from the gentle quiet of the story. Agatha’s face froze for a moment, a flicker of pain crossing her features. She opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly unsure how to answer. Rio’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but even she looked at Agatha, letting her decide what to say.

“Well, my darling…” Agatha began softly, her voice a blend of love and grief. “Nicky… he had to go somewhere very far away. Somewhere we can’t visit him.”

“But he’s coming back, right?” you asked, looking between them, the innocence in your eyes making it clear you hadn’t grasped the weight of what had happened.

Agatha’s shoulders dropped slightly, and she reached out to brush a stray hair from your face. Her fingers were gentle, yet you could feel the heaviness of her sadness. “Sometimes, people go to places they can’t come back from, little one.”

You blinked, processing her words, your heart sinking. “Like… like the stories? Like when someone goes into the spirit world?”

“Yes,” Rio murmured, her voice a whisper, her thumb tracing soothing circles on your hand. “Nicky went to a place like that. But he loved you very, very much, and he’s always watching over you, mi amor.”

You looked down, frowning, the ache of missing him suddenly sharper, more real. “Will I ever see him again?”

Agatha swallowed hard, her voice catching slightly. “Maybe… one day, in a different way. But for now, he’d want us to take care of each other. To remember him with love, even though he’s gone.”

You held their words close, even as you struggled to understand fully. In that moment, you could feel both their hands grounding you, reminding you that even though Nicholas was gone, Mama and Mami would always be here. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~

But for Mama, that wasn’t enough. Agatha missed Nicky deeply, in a way words could never capture. She carried the loss in her eyes, in the way her shoulders sagged when she thought no one was looking, and in the quiet moments when she seemed miles away, lost in memories of him.

After she tucked you into bed that night, Agatha lingered by your side, brushing a gentle hand across your hair as you began to drift off. She stayed until your breathing slowed, your small hand still curled around hers.

When she finally pulled away, she found Rio waiting at the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms folded, watching her with a look that held both understanding and sorrow. The green witch, Death herself, could face any darkness with courage, but this grief the emptiness left by Nicky’s absence was something even she couldn’t fully shield them from.

Agatha closed the door softly behind her and let out a sigh. “I don’t know if I’m doing any of this right,” she admitted in a whisper, her voice breaking. “I wasn’t meant to do this alone, Rio.”

Rio stepped closer, resting a gentle hand on Agatha’s arm. “You’re not alone, mi amor,” she replied, her voice low and steady. “We’re in this together. Nicky’s gone, yes, but his love he left that with us. With you.”

Agatha looked down, her fingers brushing the sleeve of her own robe as if tracing the fabric might help her remember his touch, his laugh, the quiet way he’d reassure her during nights like this. She wanted to believe Rio, to find comfort in her words, but the ache of Nicky’s absence was too raw, too present. “It’s just… sometimes, it feels like there’s a part of me that went with him.”

Rio tilted Agatha’s chin up gently, her gaze fierce yet filled with empathy. “You still carry him, Agatha. He’s in every act of love, every time you comfort mi cielo, every time you give of yourself even when it hurts. Nicky would be so proud of you for everything you are, and everything you’re becoming.”

Agatha’s eyes filled with tears, and she let them fall, silent yet heavy with the grief she’d been holding back. Rio pulled her into an embrace, grounding her, her arms strong and steady, as if she could anchor Agatha to the world again.

For a long while, they stood like that in the dim light, surrounded by quiet and loss, yet also by the bond they shared a bond born of love, even through the pain. Agatha knew she had to carry on, not just for you, but for Nicky’s memory and for the family they were still trying to build.

And maybe, with Rio by her side, she would find the strength to face each day anew.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~

“I can’t forgive you. Not yet, anyway,” Agatha murmured, her voice laced with sorrow, her words hanging heavily between them. There was a deep sadness in her eyes, a glint of hurt that hadn’t yet softened, no matter how much time had passed.

Rio’s face softened, her usual confidence faltering as she held Agatha’s gaze. She nodded, understanding the weight of the pain she had caused, the way it still lingered, the wound not fully healed.

“But I will love you until the end of my days here on this earth,” Agatha continued, her voice breaking slightly as she brought her hands up to Rio’s face, her thumbs tracing the curve of Rio’s cheekbones with a gentleness that spoke of both love and longing.

Rio closed her eyes at the touch, feeling the warmth of Agatha’s palms against her skin. For a moment, it was as if the world fell away, leaving only the two of them, bound by love, loss, and the complicated history that lay between them. She knew Agatha’s forgiveness was not something that could be given lightly, nor something that could be hurried. Rio had hurt her, betrayed the trust they’d built, and she understood that forgiveness might never fully come.

“I don’t deserve you,” Rio whispered, her voice barely audible, thick with the weight of her own guilt. “But I’ll spend every moment of this life making it right, even if it takes until the end of time.”

Agatha leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Rio’s, their breaths mingling in the silence. It was a closeness that spoke of all the words they couldn’t bring themselves to say, of all the love that still pulsed between them despite everything.

They stayed like that, bound together, in a promise unspoken yet deeply understood: to hold each other, even when forgiveness felt far away, even when their hearts were heavy with grief. Because love, even in its most fractured form, was a lifeline neither of them could bear to sever.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~

Fin <3

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agathario #agatha harkness x rio vidal #mcu #agathario x reader #agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader

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magics-neptunes-things · 2 days ago

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Mockingjay - Part 8

Hi guys!

I'm sorry for the wait, I know that usually I give you the chapter on Friday, but I wasn't able to yesterday.

This one is a little darker, please be aware of that while reading it.

TW : Death, blood, injuries, grief.

Chapter before

Ona wakes up abruptly, a hand coming suddenly on her mouth to prevent her from shouting. She still is in the tree where she fell asleep a little earlier, while Teagan was supposed to stand guard. But it’s not him who is looking at Ona with undisguised anger.

It’s Lucy.

Eyes widened; Ona tries to move but Lucy doesn’t let her.

“What’s happening?” Ona whispers, Lucy’s hand always on her mouth.

“Did you kill him?” Lucy whispers-shout.

“What?”

Lucy’s voice is low, full of an anger that Ona doesn’t understand. Just like she doesn’t understand why Lucy is talking about. Ona tries to read more in Lucy’s eyes, but she can’t.

“What are you talking about?” the younger one finally says.

“Declan. Did you kill him?”

“What?” Ona frowns. “No, of course not.”

Lucy is still looking at her, but she finally removes her hand from Ona’s mouth. The latter takes advantage of it to look around them, looking for Teagan. But the young boy is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Teagan?” Ona asks.

But it doesn’t seem to be Lucy’s first interest. She seems so angry; Ona never saw her like this. She won’t say that she’s scared, but she’s definitely impressive like that. The situation is really mind blowing for Ona. She wanted so much to see Lucy one more time, but not like this.

“At the place where the Games began, there is a scoreboard. It says that you killed someone. If it wasn’t Declan, who was it?”

“The boy from the 5” Ona mumbles, not really wanting to remember that awful moment. “He was chasing Teagan at first and then he came back for us. I – I didn’t have any choice.”

Ona shivers and it has nothing to do with the cold. It is cold actually, but with the hoodie she’s wearing and the habit of the temperature, she was okay like this.

Lucy seems to think about Ona’s answer, looking at her while squinting her eyes. She seems furious. Ona can understand because she was pretty close to Declan, but there is no world where Ona could kill him.

“If it’s not you, who was it?”

Ona rolls her eyes and crosses her arms on her chest. Now that the surprise is passed, she has trouble keeping up with the way Lucy is talking to her.

“Your two girlfriends. He was with them at the lake, right? They pushed him in the water. I don’t know what is really inside the water, but he died almost immediately. Then there was this strange fog coming from the lake and I think it’s what killed Lilith too. I was in a house in the city with Teagan, we had time to run away. They were closer to the lake; Lilith didn’t get that chance. I guess Kayla didn’t explain things like this?”

When Lucy always seems to hesitate, Ona stands up a little bit more to face her. She doesn’t know what happened to Lucy for her to have doubts about her like that, but Ona doesn’t like it.

“If you don’t believe me, why don’t you look at the scoreboard? I’m pretty sure you know everything your friends do, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t show the score from the death’s people.”

“How convenient” Ona snorts.

They look at each other for several seconds. Ona feels sad and angry at the same time. She wanted to see Lucy one more time to have a good memory of her, not a fight about something like this.

“Who told you I killed Declan?” Ona asks finally.

“Kayla” Lucy answers only.

Kayla, or the only one of the trios from the lake who survived. It made Ona roll her eyes at the thought. Of course, it’s easier to accuse someone else of her betrayal. It makes Ona sick that Lucy chose to believe Kayla and not her.

She doesn’t know why Kayla was accusing her, though.

“Why would she say that?” Ona frowns softly.

“That is exactly my point.”

That icy tone, again. Ona bites her lips, not knowing what to answer to that. But she doesn’t look away when Lucy looks at her right in the eyes.

“Where is Teagan?” Ona asks again.

“He went to the river for some water. He’s not a very good guard if you want my opinion.”

“At least he believes me” Ona points out.

Lucy opens her mouth to answer but that is at this very moment that they hear someone walking in their direction. Ona could now recognize Teagan’s footsteps easily. She wanted to tell Lucy that it was him, but the older girl hurries to get out of her tree.

“Lucy!” Ona whispers.

She doesn’t hear Lucy’s answer or if she does, she even can’t see her since she jumps off the tree. Ona feels her heart breaking. This talk was worse than anything else in the world. She just has time to recompose her poker face when Teagan arrives.

“Where were you?” Ona asks him.

“I was thirsty. I didn’t think you’d wake up”

“You can’t leave like that” Ona answers maybe a little too harshly. “What if something happens to you and I’m not here?”

“I’m sorry?”

He seems a little surprised by Ona outburst, and the brunette takes a deep breath to calm herself. Teagan isn’t the reason for her fight with Lucy, he doesn’t have to deal with Ona’s bad mood.

“No, I’m sorry” Ona sighs softly. “Just tell me when you leave, okay?”

The young boy nods softly, smiling shyly at Ona. The girl smiles back at him, before looking at the sky. She is bored sitting on that tree to be honest, even if she knows it was what they decided with Alexia. But she doesn’t even know all the arena, even if Teagan gave her some information about it.

“I was thinking that we can make a reserve of food and water and go to the desert, what do you think? They won’t come to look for us there.”

After all, who can say to Ona that Lucy won’t come back with the other tributes? She’s not sure about anything anymore. She doesn’t want to explain to Teagan why she proposes that, but the boy seems happy about that idea. He proposes to go pick up some fruits while Ona goes for more water.

They even take some wood, with the lighter they found and the pan, they are even able to boil some water just in case. Without a second thought, they leave their tree to start walking towards the desert.

“I’m not sure that the starting point will be safe” Ona thinks out loud after several minutes. “Maybe we should take a detour”

Teagan doesn’t discuss this and follows Ona when she decides to stay close to the river during the walk. Lucy went to the starting point; she told her some hours before. Maybe it’s where she is now staying with her teammates. She wonders how many people Seth and Camden have killed since the beginning of the Games.

“Have you heard that?”

Ona frowns and turns in Teagan’s direction. She stops walking, trying to hear what Tegan might have heard.

“Wolves” she whispers after having heard them. “Let’s not stay here, come on.”

Even if she would rather cross the path of a wolf than Camden, she still wants to live as long as possible. They are not close to the mountain or even the snow, but after all no one can force wolves to stay where they are supposed to be. Plus, they might be hungry after several days.

“They seem close” Teagan mumbles, saying out loud what Ona didn’t want to think about.

“It’s okay. When we will be in the desert, they won’t follow us.”

She still walks a little faster though, her ears are attentive to any suspicious noise. Now she’s careful about human and animal sounds. Ona just really hopes that she won’t have to fight against snake or aggressive camels in the desert.

They were out of the forest now. Ona can see the buildings where they start the Games several days before from here. It’s just a long plain now, grass as far as the eye can see. Until she’s finally able to see what looks like some sand after. The bad news is that there is a big land dip between the grass and the sand.

The river falls into it, but Ona can’t hear the sound of the water falling in a lake below or even on the ground. The height must be appalling.

“We need to find a way to cross it” Teagan says.

Ona nods and looks around, but she doesn’t see anything who might help them. No bridge, no branch long enough to go on the other side.

“How deep is that hole?” Teagan asks, leaning a little to have a better view.

“Want to go see it by yourself?”

The male’s voice makes them both turn around and Ona feels her stomach drop. Camden and Seth are in front of them, both looking very scary. Camden has one of his knees hidden behind a big home-made bandage. It’s bloody. Ona doesn’t know who hurt him, but it doesn’t look good.

Just like their life right now.

In an instinctive way, Ona puts her arm in front of Tegan to make him go behind her. She knows it will be hard for her to protect him. Unlike last time, there isn’t any tree for her to hide him.

“Who hurted you, Sweetheart?” Seth asks, coming closer to Ona acting like he wants to touch her face.

“Go away” Ona grumbles, making a move to avoid his touch.

She looks for the knife attached to her backpack, taking it in her hand. She still knows she doesn’t have any chance, especially with two of them in front of her. But she still can hurt them too, making it easier for anyone else to kill them.

Maybe Lucy. By the way, where is she now? Did they kill her?

Her panic quickly goes down again when she reminds herself that she hasn’t heard any canon for a long time now. The last time it was when she killed that boy. She probably is alright.

“Are you really getting ready to fight?” Camden chuckles.

But Ona doesn’t answer. She looks at them with attention, ready to fight the first one who will try his chance. The worst possibility is that they both attack her at the same time, she doesn’t know she’s supposed to escape them in that case.

Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened. They just share a look at one point and run towards Ona and Teagan. It’s the kind of move and understanding coming after having trained it several times.

Teagan screams but Ona doesn’t say anything. Both men are fighting with their bare hands, even if Ona saw that they have weapons. Apparently, they don’t seem to think that they will need it to fight.

She’s not afraid about using her knife herself, protecting Teagan and herself as much as she can. She knows she can’t kill them, but if she hurts them enough, maybe they will have time to run away. Camden is the weaker one because of his injury, so Ona concentrates her attacks on him.

At some point, Teagan manages to escape the brawl, crawling to the backpacks Seth and Camden left on the floor.

But Seth sees him.

“Hey! He’s taking your hammer!” he shouts to Camden.

The boy turns around to look and Ona takes advantage of it to hit him on his injured knee with her knife. Hard.

“Teagan, run!” Ona shouts to the boy, over Camden’s howling of pain.

The hammer makes a metallic sound when Teagan lets it fall on the ground. It must be heavy. Enraged, Camden gives her a massive kick in her stomach while Seth chases Teagan. The hit cuts off Ona’s breath, preventing her from getting up.

Between Camden’s legs, she can see Teagan running, but it looks like he’s coming closer to them again. Ona doesn’t understand his move, until she sees him jumping on Camden’s back. He manages to make him fall, sadly on Ona. Ona can’t retain a whimper of pain.

“Enough! Throw them on the cliff!”

Seth is near them again. He seems to have had enough of this fight, maybe a little ashamed to have been threatened by a girl and a child.

After that, this is a mess of arms, kicks and shouts. Ona and Teagan are fighting for their life.

“Ona!”

Ona can hear Lucy’s voice and her head turns in the direction of the sound automatically. She’s even able to see her for half of a second before being thrown into the void, Teagan next to her.

“No!”

Lucy’s scream would probably have emotionalized every single person on earth, but it’s not Ona’s important point for now.

Ona managed to clutch at a root, several metres from the surface. Teagan didn’t have that chance. Grief burns her throat, and she has tears in her eyes, preventing her from seeing properly.

Her arms are burning too. After all those days without having eaten and slept enough, she doesn’t have the same strength as before.

There are grunts and noise of fights under Ona’s head. It seems like Lucy forgot all the thoughts she has about keeping herself safe with her alliance. Ona tries to ease the burning of her arms and shoulders by pushing on her legs, but the walls are dusty and the more she tries, the more pebbles and sand are falling under her.

She doesn’t want to give up though, wanting to catch Lucy when she falls. And maybe help her to reach the surface again.

But it surprisingly isn’t Lucy who falls almost two metres away from her. It’s Seth. Ona froze, looking at his body falling until she couldn’t see him anymore. Soon after, there are two shots of cannon.

One for Seth.

One for Teagan.

“Right, run away to your lying bitch, asshole!”

Lucy’s voice is shaking with what Ona thinks is anger. Ona wants to call the other girl, but she doesn’t have the strength to. She’s not even sure that Lucy is still here anyway.

At least she was able to see her one more time, Ona thinks. And she wasn’t angry this time. Closing her eyes, Ona let her forehead go against the wall. She knows she won’t last long. She just wants to visualise Lucy’s face one more time.

Lucy doesn’t know what pushed her to have a look at the cliff. She didn't realise that there were only two shots of cannon, not three. All she knows is that when she sees Ona, she feels like her heart is starting to beat again.

“Ona” she whispers at first, falling on her knees to see her better before getting into action again. “Ona!” she calls a little harder, not wanting to scare the other girl anyway.

They share a look when Ona raises her hand in her direction and Lucy can say that Ona doesn’t have any strength left.

“Okay, hold on. Hold on, please.”

She doesn’t let Ona answer anything before running to Seth and Camden’s backpack. She knows what is inside, but she doesn’t waste any time, she just flips them upside down to grab the rope she was looking for.

Lucy then runs to the cliff, terrified at the idea of Ona being not here anymore. She is barely holding it. But she is.

“Grab it” Lucy instructs, throwing a part of the rope to Ona.

The younger one wraps it around one of her arms, ignoring the burning against her skin. With her other arm, she grabs it and looks up again.

She can’t see Lucy anymore, but she can feel how much strength she’s putting in the effort to take her on the surface again. Ona feels like it’s taking an eternity and she’s pretty sure that she can feel Lucy’s strength getting low. Just when she wanted to tell her to just let her go, Ona can see grass again.

Ona lets go of the rope with one hand, grabbing the grass and the dirt while she pushes on the wall with her legs. The hope gives her suddenly more strength. With a last combined effort, Lucy and Ona manage to put Ona in security again. Or at least on the ground.

Lying on the ground, Ona tries to take her breath. The sky is grey under their head, and she doesn’t know if her breathing is hard because of Teagan’s death or the efforts she just put her body in.

“We need to move” Ona hears Lucy say. “I’m pretty sure Camden will come back with Kayla. I should have killed her earlier, why was I so stupid!”

While Ona sits, Lucy puts all the things she thinks they will need into a backpack. Teagan’s one having fallen with him.

“Can you walk?”

Ona can see Lucy’s concern in her eyes. She feels out of it, like if her head isn’t with her body anymore. Ona gets up, trying to ignore how her head spins at the movement. She doesn’t even realise that she’s falling, until Lucy catches her, passing her arm around her waist.

“Okay, we’re going to do things in another way.”

Ona looks at Lucy putting a bag on her stomach, before putting the other on Ona's back. Then she makes Ona climb on her back and starts to walk.

“Lucy…” Ona whispers, rocked by Lucy's quick walk.

“Sh. Just take deep breaths and don’t fall asleep, okay?”

Ona just hums, letting her head go into Lucy’s neck. Not falling asleep is harder than she thought. She feels lulled by Lucy’s movements and her scent.

At some point, Ona feels better enough to let the guilt be too big to let Lucy carry her like this for any longer. She kisses Lucy’s neck, smiling softly when she feels the goosebumps under her lips.

“I can walk” Ona finally says.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah”

Lucy stops to slowly put Ona on the ground again. She looks at her closely, looking at any sign that Ona wasn’t feeling good. But Ona does, or at least as much as she can with her injuries.

“Where are we going?”

Ona doesn’t recognize that part of the arena, she never came here before.

“To the mountain. If we get higher, we can see them better.”

Ona nods and lets Lucy grab her hand before starting to walk again. She loses track of time, only concentrating on not falling on a rock. And Lucy’s warm hand in hers. At some point, it starts snowing and Lucy takes them into a cave.

“I saw you had wood in your bag, I’m going to make a fire, okay?”

Ona nods. Lucy choses a part of the cave hidden from the enter, to avoid the wind. And Ona realises it a little later, not to be seen by someone else. Ona just stays here, looking at the light from the fire on the walls. She realises that she’s crying only when Lucy sits next to her.

Lucy puts her hand softly on Ona’s back and it’s enough for the younger one to break.

“I wanted to save him. I just couldn’t” she chokes between tears and sobs.

Teagan’s death is hard to reach for Ona. They spend almost all their time together in the arena. She knew they had only little chance, but in her head, Teagan always would outlive her. She imagined that she would give her life for him.

“Hey now, you did everything you could to save him. You saved him several times before today.”

Lucy’s voice is soft, softer than she ever was.

“It wasn’t enough” Ona whispers through her tears.

“It’s okay” Lucy whispers.

Lucy passes both of her arms around Ona waist, taking her against her to rock her softly. Ona doesn’t really understand the sweet nothing Lucy whispers into her ears while comforting her, to be honest. But Lucy’s voice is enough.

“I’m sorry I arrived too late to save you both” Lucy says at some point, when Ona stops crying. “I thought I was too late for you too”

Her voice is only a whisper now, barely stronger than the crackling of the fire in front of them.

“But then I saw you grabbing this root… I was never as relieved as at that moment. I thought I lost you forever.”

Ona sniffles and raises her head to look at Lucy. Until now she had her head on her shoulder, her eyes lost somewhere on the fire. She must look awful but Lucy cups her cheek with the most tender gesture ever and uses her thumb to wipe Ona’s tears.

“Even if I were dead, you wouldn’t have lost me.” Ona whispers.

Into Lucy’s eyes, Ona forgets everything. She forgets her injuries, her stomach who hurts like crazy. The grief of Teagan’s death and the fact that they now have mortal enemies, probably looking for them everywhere.

“My parents aren’t okay with me being gay” Lucy blurts suddenly. “That is why Jorge was the only one who came to say goodbye. They were ashamed of me being their daughter.”

“How can someone be ashamed of you?” Ona thinks out loud, before shaking her head softly. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I’m going to kiss you.”

And she does. They haven’t kissed for days now, the last time it was before the Games. The kiss is tentative, Lucy’s hand always on Ona’s cheek. But it’s enough to make Ona melts.

Ona presses her body against Lucy after several seconds, but the pain of her injuries are waking up. She can’t help but groan in pain, making Lucy let go of her very quickly.

“It’s nothing” Ona assures when she crosses Lucy’s panicked eyes. “I think I have some bruises somewhere.”

After that, Lucy looks closely at Ona for the first time. She already had seen her face and eyes injured earlier, when they talked in the tree. But now she can see the burns on Ona’s arms, where the rope was.

And of course, Ona took some violent kicks from her fight with Camden and Seth.

“I saw that you had some cream in your backpack, could they be used to those injuries?” Lucy asks.

“I don’t know. I received it from the sponsors, after my face’s injury.”

Lucy hums, reaching for it. Ona gives it to her, looking at Lucy who sniffs it.

“Mh. Maybe we will use it just to your face, just in case.”

Ona nods. She doesn’t want to die because she puts the wrong cream at the wrong place on her body. She wanted to take it back from Lucy’s hand, but the dark-haired girl hides it behind her back.

“Close your eyes” she says.

Ona rolls her eyes and obliges, letting Lucy put the cream on her face. She is soft and tender, and Ona feels her body relax a little bit at the touch. She could sleep right now.

“Who hurts you like this?”

It reminds Ona about Seth’s question earlier, but this time there is no fun behind it. It’s just genuine concern.

“The boy from the 5. I can’t remember his name.”

“Is he the one you killed?”

“Yeah”

Lucy stays silent after this, still taking care of Ona. She insists on seeing Ona’s other injuries, making the girl roll her eyes again. Lucy cleans Ona’s burning on her hand and puts some cold water on her stomach, where she got kicked by Camden.

“Now sleep” Lucy finally says when she’s fine with the care she gave to Ona.

Ona frowns and opens her mouth to talk, but Lucy silences her by putting a finger on her lips.

“Sleep. I’ll take care of you.”

“Wake me up in four hours if I’m still asleep” Ona asks.

“Sure” Lucy snorts.

She won’t do it; they both know it already. But Lucy only has to stroke Ona’s hair for two minutes before the girl is out of the world, feeling really safe for the first time since she left her District.

“This is the first time we are sleeping together” Ona mumbles into Lucy’s knee when she snuggles against her.

Lucy hums, still stroking Ona’s hair. She has a lot to ask to Ona, just like Ona probably has a lot to ask at her. They will talk tomorrow. Tomorrow it will be them against the rest of the world, but for now, Ona needs to rest.

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle #lucy and ona #lucy bronze imagine #woso x hunger games

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redroomreflections · 17 hours ago

Text

When in Bloom

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family of Her Own Series

10/10

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 7.9k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha makes the ultimate sacrifice.

Note: I spent my entire Sunday writing this. I paused and rewound the movie 50 times. I utilized ChatGPT to help me with timelines. I read the script. I pulled out all the resources to ensure I did my big one for y'all. Special shoutout to Grammarly Premium for making my writing look and sound professional-like. Enjoy =)

Breakfast was always something Natasha found important. In her mind, it was more than just a meal; it was the fuel that powered her through the day. She never skipped it, a rare and comforting constant in her life. Even now, in a quiet city apartment far removed from the chaos of her past, the ritual of making breakfast each morning grounded her.

In the Red Room, food was always viewed strictly as fuel, something utilitarian and calculated. She never spoke much about those years, especially not with Nicky—he was still too young to understand, and she didn’t want that darkness clouding his view of her. But she could remember the harsh regimens, the rigid routines, the lessons drilled into her: taking care of herself wasn’t a luxury; it was mandatory. A weak Widow was a liability; weakness was something she had never been allowed to show.

She tried not to think too deeply about what her training had left her with—it was just one more thing in a long line of things that had happened to her.

"Mama, I'm almost ready," Nicky shuffled to the room with his laces untied and jacket hanging from his body. Ollie walked with him at his tail. He sat next to Natasha, looking up with big, hopeful eyes.

"I don't have anything for you, sweet boy," Natasha smiled apologetically. Ollie whined and laid his head on the floor. Natasha turned away from the dog to inspect Nicky. He was sitting on the floor, his hands attempting to tie his laces as his little tongue stuck out.

"What do you need, Myshka?" Natasha asked, and Nicky held his foot up.

"I can't do the knots, they're too small."

Natasha smiled and tied his shoes. She stood up, and Nicky followed suit, his coat fully zipped and his backpack slung over his shoulders.

"Can we stop for hot chocolate on the way to school?"

"I made breakfast," Natasha shook her head.

"Eggs and toast again?" He asked as he sat at the table.

"Eggs and toast," Natasha nodded. It was all she knew how to make without burning.

"Okay," Nicky sighed, "but I want a donut tomorrow."

Natasha rolled her eyes.

"We'll see," she answered.

"It's a promise!" He said.

"You know how I feel about those," she chided. "I don't make them unless I can follow through."

Nicky dug into his eggs and toast with a resigned but good-natured sigh; Natasha sat across from him, her phone buzzing softly on the table. She’d promised herself that breakfast would always be their time, uninterrupted, but the messages were piling up.

Okoye: "Natasha, we’re seeing unusual cartel activity in Mexico City. I think it’s Barton."

Rhodes: "Saw the same. We have casualties this time—he’s not holding back anymore. Might be time to intervene."

She rubbed her temples, reading over each message carefully. It had been like this for months: catching glimpses of Barton’s brutal one-man war, getting vague reports, but never close enough to reach him. And each new incident seemed to confirm what she already knew—Clint was spiraling, slipping further away with every mission.

Nicky munched on his toast, his little eyes flitting between her and Ollie, who was sulking on the floor. She gave him a quick smile, trying to shake the tension out of her shoulders, and typed a response.

"I'm on it. I'll be at the compound in an hour," She typed.

"Who's that?" Nicky asked, his eyes still watching Ollie.

"A friend," Natasha said, putting her phone down. "They're working on a case."

"The Avenger kind of case?"

"Exactly the kind," she nodded.

"Can I go on a mission with you someday?"

"Hmm, you have to finish first grade and learn to tie your shoes," She said. "Then we can talk."

Nicky finished the rest of his breakfast, and Natasha helped him clean up and get his backpack ready. As she grabbed her jacket, Natasha saw a message flash from another chat, this one from Nora.

Nora: "Hey, are we still on for tonight? Let me know what you’re in the mood for."

They’d only met a few months ago, but Natasha was easing into an unlikely friendship with Nora. They both tried to ignore the fact that they'd almost slept together. Their camaraderie was something she needed during this time. Someone who didn't know her world. Someone as a listening ear.

She hadn’t told Nora much about her past or work—what she could share, anyway—but Nora seemed to sense her guardedness and never pressed for more.

Natasha quickly typed back:

Natasha: "Still on for tonight. Maybe something low-key? Let’s catch up."

She tucked the phone into her jacket pocket and helped Nicky and Ollie out of the apartment, locking the door behind them.

Their walk to his bus stop was uneventful. Nicky counted the steps to the corner, babbling to her about something she had no idea about. Traffic at this time was nonexistent, especially after the Snap. It was just her, Nicky, and Ollie walking, their steps in sync.

"Remember your homework and ensure you're practicing your cursive," she reminded him.

"I know, I will," Nicky huffed.

"Have a good day at school," Natasha said, crouching down to Nicky's level. "I love you, always."

"Love you too," he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Bye, Ollie!"

He ran off, his backpack bouncing with him, as he met the other children at the bus stop. The bus rolled in, and the children all piled in. Natasha stayed until the doors shut, and the bus disappeared from her view.

This was their normal.

********

The training room was quiet, and the soft hum of electricity was all around her. She could hear the shuffling of her feet and the clank of the bag as it hit the floor.

It had taken Natasha a while, but she found her rhythm again. She stood in front of the mirror, wearing a simple black shirt and sweatpants, her feet grounded to the floor as she pulled her hair into a tight, controlled bun. Her fingers moved with practiced precision, twisting and pinning the strands into place as if the routine and discipline would quiet the noise in her mind. Every movement felt deliberate, a small act of control.

The soft padding of her shoes across the floor felt comforting as she moved to the center of the room. She stretched, her arms reaching above her head, bending into a series of quiet, fluid motions. There was a certain peace in this, a kind of grace she hadn’t known she needed until she found it again.

She moved through pirouettes, the motion sharp and fluid before she landed softly back onto the floor. Natasha paused, standing tall, breathing steady. She was a soldier. A leader. A mother. But for this moment, she was just a woman, letting her body regain balance.

When she had the time, she would sit in this training room. Sometimes, she'd cry. Other times, she would dance when her mind and body needed it.

Today, she'd danced.

Her hands came up in a strong pose, her right leg pointed, and her left hand raised.

The music started with a quiet melody.

Her muscles remembered. Her body knew what to do.

Natasha took a deep breath, and then she began to dance.

The ache in her chest seemed to tighten with every motion, a dull, constant throb she couldn't shake. It wasn't the physical exhaustion, the burn in her legs from stretching too far, too long—it was the grief, the absence, a constant reminder of what had been taken from her.

The anniversary was coming up. Eight and a half years together. She tried not to think about it, but the numbers wouldn't leave her alone. Five years lost. It felt impossible to imagine what those years might have been. What would life be like now if it were not for the Snap? If not for the universe tearing itself apart?

Stella would be nine. Natasha could almost picture it: a small girl with dark, wild curls and an infectious smile. Her eyes would have sparkled with the same mischief as you. She would have been old enough to start thinking about her future and to ask questions that Natasha would have been too tired to answer. But you'd have done it together, as a family.

Natasha stopped suddenly, her foot hitting the ground hard.

A lump had formed in her throat, and the tears threatened to spill.

The pain was like a knife, a sudden, violent stabbing deep inside.

There may have been another baby by now. Maybe she'd have been thinking about balancing the mission, the children, the quiet mornings, and the long days filled with reports and decisions. She'd have retired by now. She'd have given up avenging, given up this life of constant motion, just to hold onto the people she loved.

Her mind wandered, remembering how you’d looked when you held Stella for the first time, the joy in your eyes as you held that tiny life. Natasha wanted to hold onto that memory. She wanted to feel the weight of her daughter in her arms again. But she couldn’t.

Her foot faltered as she spun, the motion too sharp and quick. She caught herself, steadying on one leg before continuing the movement. Her body knew the steps. It was the heart that was falling behind. She could push through it—she always had.

But today, the ache felt too much to ignore. She wished for a moment that she could turn off the grief, pretend that it wasn’t there, that it didn’t eat at her every time she saw a family or a couple. Every time she saw a child running through a park or a mom at the grocery store. Every time, she thought about the future she would never have.

*********

Natasha sat among the ring of holo-screens, only half listening to the chatter from each team member. Rocket, Carol, Okoye, Nebula, and Rhodey spoke, trading updates and frustrations across the galaxy. She held a small peanut butter container in her hand, absentmindedly scooping out spoonfuls as she listened. The sandwich in front of her remained untouched. The familiar, salty taste grounded her, though it did little to quell the churn of thoughts spiraling within her.

The screen shifted to Rocket, whose frustrated voice was loud and clear.

Rocket's voice rang from the Halo. "So, thanks for the hot tip."

Natasha smirked a little despite herself, watching the banter continue between him and Carol. But her mind kept flickering back to the breakfast she'd rushed with Nicky, how she'd promised him she’d be home after her day at the compound. She'd need Nora to pick him up from school again.

Carol’s voice cut through the chatter. "The things that have been happening on Earth have been happening everywhere else. On thousands of planets. You might not see me for a long time."

Natasha swallowed another spoonful of peanut butter, feeling the weight of Carol's words settle over her. It was a reminder of just how enormous this loss was—this endless damage, stretching farther than anyone could have imagined. She’d stayed, kept her footing here, but even her little world seemed to be slipping. Her family was fractured, Barton somewhere out there in the shadows, and her friends scattered across the world, each dealing with their own aftermath.

"All right. Everybody keep keeping their eyes open... This channel’s always active. Anything goes sideways, anyone makes trouble where they shouldn’t, it comes through me." She said.

One by one, the screens blinked out, each goodbye leaving her feeling slightly lonelier. Only Rhodey remained. She knew what he’d say before he even started.

"Federalés found a room full of bodies outside Juarez. Cartel guys... Guns still in their pants. Same MO as Marseille. And Kiev."

Her chest tightened, the peanut butter sticking in her throat. She nodded grimly, acknowledging what she'd known was coming but dreaded to hear.

"It’s definitely Barton," Rhodey said.

The confirmation settled in her like a lead weight. Clint was too far gone, and whatever had driven him to this point was something she couldn’t pull him back from—not yet. Her fingers clenched the spoon tighter, and she stared at the empty container. She’d been so focused on keeping things together, on somehow pulling everyone else back into orbit, that she hadn’t noticed just how close she was to breaking herself.

"What he’s done here...what he’s been doing...I got to tell you, part of me doesn’t want to find him." Rhodey continued.

Natasha let out a long breath, steadying herself. She had to keep it together for Nicky, Clint, and everyone else who still counted on her to lead them through this unsteady world.

"Find out where he’s going next." She fought through the tears to hold it together. She took a bite of her sandwich, hoping to ease her tears, before dropping it onto the plate.

Rhodey nodded, the screen flickering off, leaving her alone. She rubbed her eyes, letting herself sink back for a long, quiet moment. She didn’t know how long she’d sat there when she heard a familiar voice from the doorway.

"I’d offer to cook you dinner, but you seem sad enough already."

She looked up, eyes weary, but a small smile breaking through. Steve could always tell.

Natasha turned to see Steve standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he watched her.

"Come by to do your laundry?" she asked, arching a brow.

"And see a friend," he replied.

She forced a small smile. "Your friend’s fine."

Steve raised an eyebrow, his expression softening with the familiar look he reserved for her. "She leave the house today?"

"Nothing out there I particularly want to see."

"I spotted a pod of whales coming over the bridge," he said, almost wistfully. "Closer to the city than I’ve ever seen them."

A faint, half-hearted smile tugged at Natasha’s lips. "Guess nature’s making a comeback, huh? Nice to know someone’s doing alright."

They fell into silence, and Steve watched her, something unspoken settling in the quiet. He leaned against the doorframe.

"How’s Nicky?"

Natasha's face softened at the mention of her son, her usual guarded expression slipping just a little.

"Growing faster than I can keep up with," she murmured, almost to herself. "He’s asking a lot of questions these days. Hard questions."

Steve nodded, his voice gentle. "He’s smart, like his mom."

She let out a small, tired laugh, glancing down. "Smart... yeah. And stubborn. Keeps me on my toes."

"Sounds like he’s a lot like you."

She shook her head, smiling faintly, before looking back at the table where her half-eaten sandwich sat. "He’s everything we hoped he’d be. Kind, curious... Sometimes, I wonder if he’s too gentle for this world. For what’s left of it, anyway."

A heavy silence followed her words, and Steve moved a step closer, an understanding look in his eyes.

"He’s got you to look out for him. And you’re both stronger than you think."

Natasha gave a small nod, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her coffee cup. "Maybe."

After a long moment, Steve looked up at her, his gaze steady, honest.

"Group was interesting. I keep telling them to move on. Grow past it," he said, his voice laced with something like resignation. "And some of them actually do. But not us."

Natasha held his gaze, the weight of it settling heavily between them. "If I move on," she murmured, "who does this?"

"Maybe it doesn’t need to be done," he replied quietly.

The words lingered, sinking into her. Steve was thinking of letting go. She could see the traces of weariness on his face and how he looked around the compound.

She glanced around, taking in the remnants of what had once been their team, their family. "I used to have nothing," she said softly. "Then I got this. This job, this family..."

Her voice caught, a flash of grief breaking through her carefully composed exterior. She took a breath, collecting herself.

"And even though they’re gone, I’m still trying to be... better."

Steve’s expression softened. "I think we both need to get a life."

She let out a small, almost hollow laugh. "You first."

He gave her a slight smile, then tilted his head, looking at her curiously. "What about Nora?"

Natasha’s face shifted, her smile fading. "It’s nothing," she said, brushing it off. Her gaze fell, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want my family back, Steve. My wife... Stella..."

A deep silence settled over them. Steve nodded slowly, understanding without needing any more words.

"We did our best, Nat," he murmured. "There wasn't anything more we could have done."

"That's the difficult part," She nodded.

They stared at each other, a long, quiet moment of shared melancholy. The silence wrapped around them, a reminder of all they’d lost and the people who weren’t there to share it with them anymore.

Then, a sudden ping broke through the silence. Natasha looked down at her console, swiping to a CCTV display, her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the sight on the screen.

Scott Lang’s face filled the monitor, his expression hopeful yet bewildered, with Luis’s old van parked behind him.

“Hello?” Scott’s voice crackled through the speakers. “Is anyone home? This is, uh, Scott Lang? We met a few years ago. At the airport?”

Steve leaned in, frowning as he watched Scott on the screen. “This an old message?”

Natasha shook her head, stunned. “It’s the front gate.”

********

Vormir

Natasha and Clint were climbing, their breathing ragged from the exhaustion of the long ascent. The mountain seemed endless, and with every step, Natasha felt the air become thinner. It was suffocating. Her thighs were burning, her legs shaking, but she pushed through, her heart pounding in her ears as they reached the top of the cliff.

They approach an archway carved into the mountain's face, and Clint mutters to himself.

"Really starting to regret my choice here," Clint said half-jokingly.

Natasha exhaled, a dry laugh escaping her lips despite the gravity of the situation. She didn't answer immediately, her mind racing. "Yeah. I'm going to bet the raccoon didn't have to climb a mountain."

"I don’t think technically he’s a raccoon..." Clint grinned.

"Whatever. He eats garbage." She cut him off. But as Clint spoke, Natasha's smile faded, her gaze distant as she took a few more steps, each one harder than the last. There was a tightness in her chest, a knot that grew with each breath.

For a moment, the mountain felt less like a physical challenge and more like an emotional one. Every part of her wanted to stop, to tell Clint it was not worth it, but she couldn’t. She couldn't. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps caught their attention. They turned, guns drawn, ready for a fight.

"I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me," The hooded figure affirmed.

"Creepy," Clint commented.

"Welcome, Natasha, daughter of Ivan." The hooded figure gestured to her. "Clint, son of Edith."

"Creepier." He murmured.

"Who are you?" Natasha asked.

"Consider me a guide. To you and to all who seek the Soul Stone."

Their journey ended here.

********

"If we don’t get the stone, billions of people are going to stay dead." She said firmly.

Clint’s face was grim, but there was no question in his eyes. He knew what was coming. He already knew what’s been weighing on both of them.

"Then I guess we both know who it has to be,"

There was a pause. A beat where emotion played all over their faces - pain, love, heartbreak. Natasha looked at Clint, and something on her face shifted.

"Yeah, I guess we do," She said.

"I'm starting to think we don't mean the same person," Clint tilted his chin. "Nicky needs a mother."

"And he'll have her," Natasha said. As Natasha began to pull away, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, something changed.

Suddenly, the world around them shuddered. A strange, heavy pressure filled the air, like reality was bending. Natasha stumbled, her eyes snapping around, searching for the source. The ground trembled.

Suddenly she was alone.

"You think this is the end of your choice? I think you’ll find... it’s just the beginning." Red Skull's voice played around her ominously. She searched for the source but couldn't find it.

"What the hell," She cried out.

Before she could process what was happening, the world shifted again. The landscape around her warped, colors bleeding into one another as if she'd stepped through a rift into another plane of existence. Natasha closed her eyes as a wave of nausea washed over her. She only listened to her breathing and her senses until her feet hit solid ground. She could hear the running of water. If she could guess, it was a stream or... a river.

"What is this place?" She asked as she blinked her eyes open. Red Skull stood before her. Natasha looked around, hoping to find her bearings, but nothing gave her the indication that she was still on Vormir or Earth. It seemed like a purgatory of sorts. Someone else's dream.

"You’ve come this far. But I think you deserve more than just a simple end. A choice so great—perhaps you should have the chance to reconsider." Red Skull explained.

"What do you want from me?" She demanded. "Where's Clint?"

"I offer you a choice—one you may not have considered. A way out. A chance to undo it all... in a different form." He ignored her questions, only causing more confusion.

"What’s your game, Skull? What are you talking about?" She stepped closer to him. "I swear to-"

"Mama?" A voice called. Natasha froze. Her heart skipped a beat, the world narrowing into a single point of focus. That voice. Her heart dropped and then soared all at once. She didn't understand how, but she knew exactly who it was. Her stomach churned.

She turned around, her eyes scanning the familiar landscape, and then there she was.

Stella was the same age as when the Snap happened. Natasha’s breath caught in her throat. Her hair was the same—soft, messy curls that fell around her face. Her eyes were just as bright as those vivid green eyes that Natasha had only seen in her dreams. The little girl looked up at her, pure joy in her expression, a smile that could light up the entire world.

"Hi, Mama," Stella grinned up at her. Her face was unchanged, frozen in time. She looked just as Natasha remembered. Still three. Still lost in a world that didn't seem to age her.

Natasha’s heart felt like it would shatter. She rushed toward her daughter, closing the distance in a heartbeat. She pulled Stella into her arms, holding her so tightly it almost hurt. Her eyes stung with tears she couldn't contain.

"I don’t... I don’t understand. How—how are you here? You... you’re—"

But before she could finish, Stella pulled back slightly, her little face furrowed with confusion.

"Where is Mommy?" She asked

"Oh God." Natasha choked back a sob. She wants to say something, but she doesn't have the words. It was too much.

"Why is Mommy not here?" Stella's confusion turned to frustration. "You said Mommy was coming." Stella directed her anger at the Red Skull.

"Stella..." Natasha began.

Natasha’s world tilted on its axis. She held Stella tighter, her mind racing. A thousand questions rushed through her thoughts. How was this possible? What was happening to her?

But the reality of her daughter, there—now—overpowered every rational thought. The warmth of her child’s embrace was a lifeline, pulling her away from the edge of the unknown.

"I'll find Mommy, don't worry," Natasha soothed the little girl. "We'll find her together."

She rubbed her daughter’s back, trying to keep herself from breaking down. Her emotions were a whirlwind—relief, pain, confusion. But something didn't feel right. Something was off.

"I offer you a choice." Red Skull interrupted their reunion. "Stay here, in this moment, with your daughter, forever trapped in the purgatory, or return to the world you know... in a different form. I can give you a new life, a new beginning—a second chance at everything. But there is a price, of course."

Natasha’s breath hitched. "What's the price? What happened to giving up a soul?"

"You will be reincarnated. Your soul, your essence, will live again in a new body. You’ll be free from the pain of this life and the burden of the past. But you will lose everything you know. You’ll forget this life, your memories, your loved ones—your daughter. You will be someone else."

"So either way, I'd die," Natasha guessed. She licked her lips nervously. "Either way, the people I love will lose me. How is this better than the other deal?"

"Not death, Natasha. Rebirth. A chance to begin again, free from the weight of your past. But yes, in this new life, you will forget. The pain, the grief... and the love. Your soul will live again, but it will be untethered, unburdened by the memories of this life. It will be a clean slate.

"So I get to live again but lose everything I ever cared about? I don’t even get to remember the people I’ve fought for, the ones I’ve sacrificed everything for. You’re telling me to give up my life again?" She shook her head. "I would forget her. I would forget all of them."

"You will gain something more valuable—freedom. You will be someone else, someone better, with no shackles. No more ghosts of the past, no more running. You will be given a chance to make a new path. But there is no turning back once you choose. Once your soul is reborn, it will not remember this moment. You will be free of the pain of your past... but also the joy of those moments, those people."

Natasha swallowed hard, her mind racing. The thought of losing everything she fought for—the memories, the bonds she’s built, especially with her daughter—twisted like a knife in her chest. But the idea of freedom and redemption tempted her in a way she couldn't ignore.

"And if I choose the other way? To stay here, to die for the stone... What’s the difference? Isn’t it all just... an end?" She said quietly to herself.

"The difference is that you remain as you are in this choice. You will stay in this moment, this world, and be trapped in it. Without her. A death without peace, a loss without redemption. The universe will continue without you."

A beat passed as Natasha processed the weight of his words. She wanted to scream, to demand more answers. She wanted to tear through this reality, but all she could do was stare at Stella, her little face looking at her with that innocent, trusting look. That face is the one thing that keeps pulling her heart in two directions—back toward this strange, illusory world where she can hold her daughter or forward toward an unknown fate, a second chance.

"Why would I choose freedom if it means losing everything that made me who I am? What’s the point of living again if I can’t remember why I fought so hard to be here in the first place?" She frowned. "Do they come back? Does Nicky get his mother and his sister?"

"The people you love will remember you. They will mourn you. They will grieve, but they will move on. They will find a way to live without you, and eventually, the wounds will heal. It will not be the same, but there will be peace, eventually."

"I don’t want to forget... I don’t want to forget her. I can’t." Her voice broke. She was crying now.

"You are not choosing to forget her. You are choosing to give her a future. A future where the world is saved, where the people you love have a chance to live. That is the sacrifice you make. The world needs you, Natasha Romanoff, more than your memories."

"And if I choose not to live again? What happens then?"

Red Skull’s gaze sharpened, his voice heavy with the finality of his words.

"Then you will die, and the universe will continue without you."

The reality of his words sank in, a heaviness weighing her down. She was faced with an impossible choice—die and have the possibility of everyone coming back or reincarnating with the same result.

Her fingers traced the outline of her wedding band, the cold metal a reminder of all she had lost.

"Why me?" She asked suddenly. Red Skull looked at her with something close to pity, though it was difficult to read on his stone-like face."Does everyone get this option?"

“No,” he replied, his voice cold but edged with something else—something ancient. “Not everyone. Only those whose actions have carried weight—those whose sacrifices have been… significant. You’ve walked a path of endless struggle. Death has followed you, yet you fight; you sacrifice, again and again, not just for others but for a purpose greater than yourself. It is rare to see such a soul. That is why I offer this choice to you.”

Natasha absorbed his words, her mind racing. Her life had always been a series of choices, but this… this was different. A chance to leave it all behind and be reborn, or to give everything, including herself, to save others.

Her thoughts drifted to Stella, still tucked in her arms, her innocent eyes full of love and trust. Could she really leave this behind? Could she live with the knowledge that the mother her children knew would never return to them?

“Why me?” Natasha repeated, her voice soft but unwavering. “Why offer this to me and not to someone else? There have been countless others who’ve given everything… so why now?”

Red Skull didn't answer immediately, the silence hanging heavily in the air.

Red Skull's gaze softened, just for a moment. “Because you are more than what you think yourself to be. You have been a weapon, a force of destruction, and a beacon of hope. You’ve fought against fate, against what you thought you were destined for. This is your moment to choose what you wish your legacy to be. Either way, you shape your own fate.”

Natasha stood still, her heart thundering. Red Skull waited for her decision. The silence hung heavy between them, thick with the moment's gravity.

Natasha swallowed, her hand tightening into a fist at her side. "And if I choose to leave? To reincarnate—what happens to them? To Clint, to my team… my daughter?"

"They will live," Red Skull said, his voice almost too calm, too sure. "They will carry on, their memories untouched. But you will be gone. Your place in the universe will be filled by someone else."

Natasha closed her eyes, the words weighing heavy on her. It was an impossible decision, one she couldn’t fathom.

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't choose."

"Mama," Stella questioned. It seemed she was waiting for an answer, too.

"I'm sorry," Natasha let the tears fall this time. "I'm so sorry, Solnyshko." She whimpered.

Red Skull looked at her, his expression almost sympathetic.

"It is not a choice, Natasha. It is a sacrifice. One you have already made."

"Okay, okay, I'm ready." Natasha breathed. "I'm sorry, baby." She kissed Stella's forehead. She could only hope you would forgive her.

*********

"It was supposed to be me. She sacrificed her life for that goddamn stone. She bet her life on it," Clint ranted. "She jumped, and one of us had to explain this to Nicky."

Thor and Banner exchanged puzzled glances. The tension in the room is thick; Clint’s grief is a raw wound, and their shared loss weighs on everyone. But this—this was something they hadn’t anticipated.

"Who is Nicky?" Bruce questioned.

Clint’s shoulders slumped as if the question's weight was too much. He took a shuddering breath, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“Nicky’s her son,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Nat didn’t talk about him much… she didn’t want to endanger him. She kept him safe, hidden, but he’s… he’s still so young.”

“Are you telling us that Nat… that she left behind a child?” Bruce asked gently, his voice filled with concern.

Clint nodded, swallowing hard. “She did it for him, you know. She did it for all of us, for everyone that got snapped. But he was part of that, too. Part of the reason she…” He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Thor’s expression shifted from confusion to a deep, somber respect. “A mother’s sacrifice… to protect her child,” he murmured almost reverent.

"Children," Tony supplied.

"What?" Clint looked at Tony.

"There were two children. She had Stella," Tony reminded him. "It was for them. For her wife."

Clint glanced up, anger and anguish flashing in his eyes. “And now he’s alone. She’s gone, and he’s got no one.” His voice cracked as he stumbled over the words. “Who’s going to be there for him? Who’s going to tell him why his mom never came back?”

Bruce placed a comforting hand on Clint’s shoulder, his eyes sincere. “Then we’ll be there for him,” he promised. “If Natasha’s son needs family, he’s got us. Whatever he needs—support, protection, anything.”

Thor nodded firmly, the resolve clear in his gaze. “We owe her that much. And I’ll ensure he knows exactly who his mother was—a warrior, a hero. The bravest among us.”

That landed heavily among all of them.

*********

You'd been appalled when Happy suggested a joint funeral for Tony and Natasha. The idea left a bitter taste in your mouth. A funeral for Natasha—your Natasha—sounded absurd. She wasn’t gone. She couldn’t be. Not her.

You’d spent five years in limbo, caught between one breath and the next, with no awareness of the time passing. One moment, you were home in Missouri, watching your children play in the den, and the next… nothing. It wasn’t like sleep or even unconsciousness. It was as if you simply didn’t exist. And then, just as suddenly, you were back. But the world you returned to had shifted and moved forward in ways you couldn’t yet wrap your mind around.

Nicky had grown so much taller than you remembered. No longer the little boy you’d kissed goodnight, he was older now, with five years of life etched into his features, years you’d missed as his mother. The last time you saw him, he was just one year old, approaching his second birthday, which you'd planned together. Now, at eight, he was still small but no longer the toddler you had once held in your arms.

In some ways, he was a stranger, a person with a life outside your knowledge. You missed five years of his life.

And now, with no warning, the universe had ripped away the only constant in your life.

It didn't make sense. The universe had brought you back only to take her away. She couldn't be gone.

So you refused the funeral. It was a denial, an attempt to reject the reality thrust upon you. You didn’t need a funeral for someone who wasn't dead. She would come home. You wouldn't bury an empty casket.

And then you looked at your children—two pieces of your heart, tethering you to a reality you could hardly stand. You wanted to honor Natasha, for them, if nothing else. None of this made sense. None of it felt right. But you knew you had to push forward.

That morning, you dressed them with shaking hands, pausing often to steady yourself. Your eyes were bloodshot from a night spent wrestling with grief, exhaustion, and disbelief. You’d barely slept, remembering Natasha and the impossible circumstances that had brought you here. But for Nicky and Stella, you had to keep going.

They sat before you now in Tony’s lake house, their small, trusting faces watching you closely. Everyone else was waiting downstairs—the Avengers, friends from all over, people whose lives she had touched. But before you joined them, you needed this quiet moment with your children to prepare them for the hardest goodbye any of you had ever faced.

"It's time for us to say goodbye to Mama," You breathed. You took both of their hands and kissed each of them. "I know we don't want to. This is the last thing I want to do, but..."

Stella was staring at her feet, a sullen, pained look on her face.

"It's going to be hard. I'm gonna miss her, too," You told him. "But we're gonna get through it. We're gonna be okay."

You turned to Nicky. He was watching you, his face serious. He'd been quiet all morning, barely speaking. He'd lost both parents at different periods of his life. He didn't know what to make of the idea that this was his reality.

"Do you have questions?" You asked him. "About anything?"

"Is Mama... is she coming back?"

You took a deep breath. "No, Nicky. She's not."

He looked down at his shoes, his little eyebrows drawn together. You wanted to hold him and make the pain disappear, but you couldn't. He barely knew you. It would take more than the days you'd known each other for him to trust you. The Snap had taken that bond away from you.

"We'll always remember her. And she'll never forget us," You promised. "Okay?"

"Okay," he said softly.

You looked at Stella. She was probably so confused. You tugged at the skirt of her dress to get her attention.

"Baby, you alright?" You asked.

"Mama's not dead," She cried. "Why is Mama dead?"

Your heart broke into a million pieces.

"Oh, baby." You knelt and pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I wish she were here."

"Where is she?"

"She's in heaven. She's with Grandma and Pop-Pop. They're taking care of her."

"But why?" Her lip trembled. It was in that way that always broke your heart.

"The world was a very bad place, and she sacrificed herself to fix it. She was a hero. She saved everyone, including you and Nicky."

"But why does that mean Mama's gone? Why can't she stay?"

You tried to blink away the tears forming.

"Sometimes things happen, and there's no reason, no logic. Sometimes, people leave, and we can't understand why."

"I want Mama. I don't want her to go," Stella's eyes watered. "Please."

"I know, baby. I know. So do I. I'm so sorry."

Stella leaned her head against your chest, her body shaking as she cried. You ran your hand through her hair and held her close, willing your warmth to be enough for the both of you.

Neihter of you were ready but it was something you had to do.

*********

Walking out of the lake house behind Pepper, Morgan, and Peter felt overwhelmed. It felt so wrong. There was no way Natasha was gone. You wanted to turn and run, find a way out of this reality, this nightmare. You scanned the crowd, noticing familiar faces and others you'd only ever heard about through Natasha’s stories—a reminder of the secrecy you had kept to protect your family.

Clint and Laura met your eyes, offering quiet support, and you gave them a faint, shaky smile in return. Nicky clung tightly to your hand, his other hand holding a small bundle of Natasha’s favorite flowers. You adjusted Stella on your hip, feeling the weight of her tiny arms wrapped around you, grounding you in this surreal moment.

As you stepped closer to the water's edge, you noticed the questioning looks of some of the people gathered there. They didn’t know who you were; they didn’t know Natasha’s family had quietly existed all this time. Ignoring the stares, you focused on what you came here to do, offering Natasha this final act of love.

Pepper placed her flowers gently on the water, a quiet tribute to Tony. Then, with a soft nudge, you guided Nicky forward. He stepped up, his small fingers trembling as he let the flowers slip into the lake. Nicky's dog, Ollie, had darted out of the house and now pressed his nose against Nicky's hand, sensing the boy’s sadness.

"Goodbye, Tony," he said softly, his eyes shining with tears. "Goodbye, Mama."

Pepper reached for him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Then she did the same for you and Stella, her expression solemn.

"Bye, Tony," Stella murmured, her face pressed against your chest. "Bye-bye, Mama."

Stella didn't know him. She didn't have memories of Tony, but she felt compelled to follow in her brother's steps.

You listened as Pepper began speaking, sharing memories of Tony and words of remembrance. You held it together, swallowing back the ache in your chest as her voice wavered over the water. She looked at you when she finished, nodding gently—it was your turn.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, holding Stella close, and faced the gathering.

"Natasha is..." You breathed. That wasn't right. "Natasha was my wife." You began. "She was a wife and a mother." You looked down at Nicky's proud eyes. "She loved harder than anyone I'd ever known. She was kind and strong and loyal."

You swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"But above all, she was brave. She was the bravest woman I'd ever met. And we will miss her. Every day. Every second. We will carry her memory with us." You sighed. "For eight long years, Natasha was my rock. Long before then, she was my everything. She gave me two beautiful children. Two amazing little humans who made every moment worth it. They remind me so much of her. A lot of you never knew about me. Never knew about us. It was better that way. Our own little secret. This family was something only we knew."

"But I'm telling you now because... If anyone needs to know about Natasha and how incredible she was, it's the people here. You knew her better than anyone. You've shared her battles, her victories. She was part of your family. So, for everyone who's not part of mine, let me share it with you. Let me tell you about her." You continued. You felt stronger the more you talked. "Having a person makes life easier to live. Having Natasha made my life so much better. She was the best thing that ever happened to me."

You felt a tear slide down your cheek. "Natasha and I didn't meet under ideal circumstances. She was a spy, and I was an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. We worked together on missions. Eventually, those late nights turned into something more. I was lucky enough to know her as a teammate. Later, I got to see the other side of her, the one only a few people knew. She was a good person. One of the best."

Your eyes found Clint's, and he nodded in understanding. He was the one who'd first introduced you.

"It wasn't always easy. Life never is. There were times when it was difficult. Hard choices, difficult sacrifices. But she always made sure to make things right, no matter what it cost her."

You wiped away a stray tear and took a shuddering breath.

"We will never forget her. Not a day will go by when I don't think about her. Her sacrifice will be felt for generations." You sniffed. "I can't promise I won't spend every waking moment wishing she were here. Wishing I could kiss her or hold her or hear her voice one more time. I'll do whatever it takes to ensure our children never forget her. She deserved better. A long, happy life. A future with all of us."

The dam burst, and you held back a sob. Pepper's soothing hand rubbed your back. She felt this grief, too.

"But if there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that sometimes things just don't go the way we plan. And that's okay. We'll figure out how to move forward without her. We'll carry her in our hearts and minds and keep living the best lives we can."

*********

It had been three weeks of slowly packing away Natasha’s life, boxing up memories and fragments of her identity. Clearing out her apartment felt surreal; each item you wrapped and labeled was a bittersweet reminder. The decision to move Nicky away from his childhood home had been hard, but you knew it was time for a fresh start, somewhere the kids could grow and heal.

At precisely 8 a.m., the moving truck pulled up, ready to transport everything to your new brownstone. Natasha’s SUV idled in the street as you trailed behind the movers, the last piece you had yet to part with. It wasn’t as if you needed it in New York, but something about selling it felt too final, like letting go of another piece of her.

You ran a hand along the dashboard, the smell of Natasha still lingering, even after all this time. Going back to Missouri felt even harder—that was the home you had chosen together. You’d have to make the trip eventually to pack it up, but the thought alone made your chest tighten.

Lost in thought, you were brought back to reality by a voice from the backseat.

“No, I’m the big sister!” Stella was arguing, her voice firm with a tiny pout on her face.

You turned around, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Stella, honey, you’re not the big sister anymore. Nicky’s older than you.”

Stella scrunched her nose in defiance. “But I feel like the big sister!”

You laughed softly. “I know, sweetie. But it doesn’t work that way.”

Before she could fire back with more questions, something outside caught her attention. “Look, Mama! Another moving truck!”

You saw the large truck parked halfway across the road, its bulk blocking your path. Irritated but resigned, you parked Natasha’s SUV and climbed out, hoping to get them to move just enough so you could pass.

"Excuse me, I have a m—" you started to say but stopped. Your breath caught in your throat, a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine.

The movers were busy unloading furniture and boxes into the back of the truck, oblivious to your sudden stillness. You watched them work, your heartbeat growing louder, filling your ears. As you approached, a woman stepped out beside the truck, brushing her hands off her jeans. She had blonde hair that shimmered in the sunlight and sharp green eyes that locked onto yours. There was something vaguely familiar about her, though you couldn’t quite place it.

“Hey there! Sorry about the truck blocking the way. I was just helping unload,” she said with a friendly smile. “I’m Kelly. Just moving in next door.”

You introduced yourself, feeling a slight tug of recognition but pushing it aside. “Nice to meet you, Kelly. We’re actually moving in too. Guess we’re going to be neighbors. Where are you moving from?"

"Nebraska," Kelly nodded. "I'm a doctor. I wanted a bit of change. For some reason, I felt drawn to New York, so now I'm here."

You gave her a tight smile, wondering why her voice sounded so familiar. "Well, welcome to the neighborhood. I hope you enjoy it here. We'd love to have you over for dinner once we get settled. "

Kelly's smile widened, her gaze turning almost hopeful. "I'd like that."

fin

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #afamilyofherownau

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unhingedangstaddict · 22 hours ago

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Currently working on my own fix-it fic but man this shit is harder than I thought it'd be- I keep crying and then getting distracted reading other fix-it fics. Thought I'd share this snippet to hopefully motivate myself to keep going???

Hen was starting to wonder if maybe Tommy was out for a run when she heard a faint ‘oh shit’ from inside the house. She banged on the door again. “Come on Kinard! I know you’re in there!” She called out. If Tommy’s neighbors thought she was crazy, oh well, too bad. Hen really didn’t care.

Finally the door was opened by Tommy. His hair was a mess- sticking up as though he’d been running his hands through it far too much-, he had deep dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, his eyes were puffy from crying, and frankly, he looked like shit. “What do you want, Hen?” Tommy rasped. Whether his voice was hoarse due to dehydration or yelling and/or crying was unclear.

“To talk about what happened last night.” Hen crossed her arms.

“You mean you’re here to yell at me for what I did?" Tommy guessed. He hadn't forgotten the thinly veiled shovel talk from Hen and Karen months back at the medal ceremony- he wasn't surprised Hen was here now. “Trust me I hate myself for it enough. There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already thought about myself.”

“No. I’m here to try and understand what even happened. According to Eddie, Buck wasn’t making very much sense last night. Eddie would’ve come himself to check on you but he’s got Buck right now. Eddie’s worried about you and frankly, I am too.”

Tommy sighed deeply and stepped aside to let Hen into the house.

Soon they were sitting at Tommy’s kitchen table with mugs of coffee in hand.

“So are you gonna tell me what happened or are you just gonna keep having that staring contest with your coffee?” Hen questioned.

“He asked me to move in with him.” Tommy admitted quietly.

“Okay,” Hen said slowly, waiting for Tommy to explain further why he was upset by it. Beyond the obvious matter of Buck leasing his loft apartment and Tommy owning his house, Hen wasn’t sure what the issue was.

“For a split second, I thought about saying yes.” Tommy confessed. “Then I returned to reality and realized I had to end it.”

“But why?” Hen questioned.

“Even if it was only for a second, Hen, I was ready to, what? Sell my house and more than half my stuff to move in with him? I’m not even mad about that part- I’m upset with myself for considering it. I’ve been in Evan’s position before, first gay relationship, lovesick, you think it’s gonna last forever. And I’ve been the first for guys before too. Like I told Evan last night, I know how it ends. And I guess I’d rather break my own heart than wait around for Evan to do it.”

“If you’ve been so sure all this time that it could never work, why did it take until now for you to call things off?” Hen questioned.

“I think from the start I knew I was playing with fire. After the last guy I was a first for, I told myself I wasn’t going to do it anymore. Then I met Evan, and he was just so magnetic, I couldn’t stay away even if I wanted to. I couldn't say no to him. I think I always knew my heart would get broken, and I guess I was okay with that all this time, until last night when I realized I love him, and I knew I had to cut myself off before I reached a point of no return.” Tommy explained. “I mean, I’m a fucking a mess right now and I was the one who called it off. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to survive him ending it.”

“Did you really just figure out last night that you love him?” Hen asked.

“I guess I sorta loved him from the start but last night was different, Hen. I’m in love with him, like well and truly love him, in a way I’ve never felt before, about anyone.” Tears filled Tommy’s eyes. “And I’m just his first. And as badly as I want it, I know I don’t get to be his last.”

“What makes you so sure you can’t be his last?” Hen wondered.

“Because I’m not the forever guy." Tommy shrugged slightly as a tear finally escaped and slid down his cheek. "At best I’m the close-to-but-never-quite-enough guy."

#bucktommy #tevan #fix it fic #tommy kinard #evan buckley #hen wilson #s8e6 fix it #wip

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theitgirlnetwork · 16 hours ago

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What Are You Willing To Do?

Ch. 2: Date 1 Pt. 1

Note: Thank you so much for the love you all have been showing this story so far! Thank you for reading, and for the kinds messages I have received thus far! I love interacting and seeing your thoughts and comments so keep 'em coming. I want to take this time to remind you that these characters will be flawed. Rafe is....Rafe, but we love him anyway. And Milan is...someone who is compatible with Rafe. They won't always be the depiction of a healthy relationship, but this is fiction and fun. This chapter isn't too bad, but those who have read the snippet know how it's gonna get. Once again, I have songs for this ship so if anyone is interested in them let me know, and feel free to share some with me if you catch a vibe. Finally, let me know if you have any questions or comments. Other than that, I hope you enjoy. This one is a lot shorter than chapter 1, but it is a 2 parter, so don't hate me. Love ya! <3333

“Wait.”

Rafe pauses, loosening his grip on Milan’s hair and pulling back slightly, irritated that she’d stopped him just as their lips brushed and she breathed the smoke he’d just poured into her mouth between them. “What? What’s up?”

“I don’t,” She sighs, her cool breath on his face, eyes still shut as if she’s forcing herself to pause this moment between them. “I don’t just hook up with guys, you know? Maybe we could…I dunno.”

Oh. Oh. Rafe understands. He’d…he’d forgotten himself for a moment. This isn’t some touron stumbling onto the couch next to him, throwing herself at him. She wasn’t one of those gold digging bitches that tries to fuck him with faulty condoms in the bottom of her purse. She’s the kind of girl who has her own shit. She doesn’t need him for a come up. Or at least she doesn’t think she does.

He arrogantly thinks to himself that Milan hasn’t met a man like Rafe Cameron. He’s spent most of his life preparing, becoming the type of man that can run his family, keep them safe and comfortable. The type of son fathers are proud to have and the type of man women want to give a baby. That’s the man who he’s made himself be.

Rafe had been so focused, only allotting himself time for a little bit of fun once in a while, he’d forgotten that one day he might stumble across a girl that had the potential to be a woman. His woman.

He nods slowly, a small smile forming on his face as he pulls back more, releasing her head completely and smoothing his hand back onto her knee. “Nah, I get it. We should get to know each other a little better. How ‘bout you spend the day with me tomorrow?”

Milan perches herself up at that, back straightening even more as her face lights up. “Really? You wanna spend the day with me?”

Rafe rests his head back on the top of the couch, sweeping his thumb on her bottom lip before biting his own and nodding. “Yeah, I wanna show you a good time. Get you a little more comfortable with me so I can kiss those pretty lips of yours.”

Both sets.

“Okay, wait, I’m excited. You’re gonna be my first friend here.”

“Friend?” Rafe scoffs. “‘M’not gonna be your friend, Princess.”

“Well,” Milan shrugs, “Like, I don’t know what I could call you, you’re not my man-”

“Yet. Not your man yet.” He and the woman next to him share twin smiles and Rafe only becomes more invigorated by Milan’s eyeroll and shy grin. “Roll your eyes if you want to, I’m a determined guy.”

“Determined?”

“Yeah, like I know what I like, I work for what I want, so-”

“So what?” Milan giggles, “You…you want me? I should get ready or something?”

“Yeah.” Rafe says flippantly, as if he wasn’t essentially making a threat of courtship to a girl he’d just met like 12 hours before. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d fully wanted from her yet. But the need to have her was nagging at him. Maybe it was lust. She was hot, forbidden fruit for him. He could hear the curses Ward would spit at him now if he fucked around and ruined things with this girl, made an enemy of her dad. Maybe it was how sweet she seems. He’s always liked shiny, new things. When he was a kid, he had to have stuff before his friends did. Toys. Shoes. Stocks. Maybe he’s graduated to feeling that way about women.

Something about how he doesn’t want to look away. Something about the way she was smiling at him, how he’s talked to her the most, how in a room full of guys drooling over her, those big pretty eyes were locked on him. Rafe felt like he had to look into this weird feeling she’s been stirring in his chest since he’d seen her.

It’s what’s best for Milan anyway. None of the rest of these limp dick motherfuckers should have her. They’re not real men. Not like Rafe.

Milan hums as she removes the golden under eye patches from under her eyes, massaging in the serum they leave atop of her skin. Grimacing at a gust of damp wind from outside she pads against the marble floor of her bathroom and pushes the double doors leading to the patio attached closed. “Stupid, island humidity.” She pouts as she combs through her bob again, praying for no puffiness today.

The sky fights to brighten in the early morning. It’s 5:00 a.m. and Rafe Cameron was going to be picking her up in 30 minutes.

After the party last night Sarah had run over to her on the front lawn, hugging her tightly before declaring she was going home with John B. and offering for Milan to come with them. When she declines with a smile, the blonde fixes her brother with a glare, to which he’d returned with a middle finger, and stumbled off in her man’s arms.

Rafe drove Milan back to her house and parked them out front, eyes carefully rotating between staring at Milan sitting pretty in his passenger seat, and watching for a sign of her father at the door. He let her toy with his fingers as she fluttered her lashes at him and he described what he does throughout the day, Or, rather, what they’d be doing today.

When he’d mentioned picking her up after the gym Milan had jumped at the opportunity to go with him. She loved going to the gym every morning before she’d moved and she was happy to keep it going. And it wouldn’t hurt to see Rafe work out.

It was all she could think about. It’s not just his height. Even though he’s so…so tall. At least 6’2. Rafe is big. Muscle. Strength. Yesterday he’d basically hoisted her full weight into his truck with one arm. The preppy boy polo that he’d thrown on for their families hadn’t hidden anything and his tight crew neck that he wore to the party basically outlined everything for her.

She quite literally wanted him to throw her around like a ragdoll. Or let her climb him like a tree. Whatever, Rafe is hot.

He has an intense vibe, seemingly takes himself very seriously. But, Milan figures she could relax him. Loosen him up a little bit.

They were gonna have so much fun. Smiling at her own reflection in the mirror, Milan spritzes vanilla Sol de Janeiro and all but fucking skips down the steps and to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Miss Milan, you’re awake early. I just started prepping for breakfast, but I could make you a coffee while you wait.” The private chef that her parents had hired a couple years ago had made the move with them. They’d paid for her to come with them to Outer Banks and offered to increase her salary because…well…it wasn’t their nice home in Quebec that she was used to.

“No, thank you, Miss Ally.” Milan reaches over, stealing a newly washed strawberry and biting into it. “And my parents aren’t awake, right?”

“Of course not. You know your mother won’t roll out of bed until she smells the food cooking and your dad won’t come until I’ve had to warm it up twice. Why? Are you alright, honey?”

The younger woman nods, tossing the green stem into the trash and reaching for two travel cups. “Can you keep a secret? I have, like, a date today.”

“Like a date?”

“Yeah, with a guy. He’s really cute, and sweet. So,” Milan begins sifting matcha, smiling down at the cup and resting her cheek on her shoulder. “‘M’gonna hang out with him today.”

“Less than 48 hours and there’s a boy, huh? Atta girl.” Miss Ally passes Milan the vanilla protein powder. “You’ve been worried about the move, thinking it was a bad idea, and here you are making friends.”

“Mhm, hot ones. With blue eyes and dimples.”

“And where,” Ally nudges Milan out of the way as she pours the hot water into the travel mug, “am I supposed to tell your parents you are when you’re out with Mr. Blue Eyes and Dimples?”

“Touring the island.” She chirps.

“With who?”

“Just like…generally. They should be cool with it honestly, I just know they’re gonna make it weird, but like, he’s the son of Dad’s first friend here so he shouldn’t be mad. How come he gets a boyfriend and I don’t?”

“Oh, just say that to your parents, I’m sure they’ll go for it then.” Ally snorts, whisking the eggs as Milan seals the travel mugs, laughing to herself as the girl slides both of the pink cups to the end of the counter next to her gym bag.

When Rafe pulls up outside of the Cabot house, he texts Milan before hopping out of his truck and jogging up the cobblestone. He agreed not to ring the doorbell because her parents were awake but he’d be damned if he didn’t pick her up at the door.

As he stands on at the doorstep he adjusts the hat he has rested on his head and rocks on his feet impatiently. He isn’t waiting long. The door swings open and he’s immediately hit with the sweet smell of vanilla and soon after is met with the walking wet dream carrying the scent.

“Good morning!” Milan grins, tossing her arms around his neck, bouncing up into his arms. Rafe isn’t fucking stupid, he’s quick to catch her around the waist and squeeze, relishing in the feeling of her pressed against him.

“Morning, princess.” he murmurs into her hair, squeezing her again for good measure before placing her back on her feet. “You, uh, you always go to the gym in shit like that?”

“Shit like what? Stop.” she laughs as he snaps the elastic of her leggings.

“You just look good. That’s all I’m sayin’.” He chews the gum in his mouth and nudges her chin with his knuckle, mumbling, “Watch your mouth.”

“Yeah? Thank you.” she grins, looking away from him briefly. “I made…I made you something, like a gym drink or whatever.

“That’s cute sweetheart, what do you like me or somethin’?” Rafe snorts, choosing to ignore the fact that the travel mug she was pushing into his hands was bubble gum pink. He holds his hand out to her, not even looking back as he starts guiding her over to his truck. When he hears a little shuffle from her he looks back and glances down at her feet. “What the fuck, your shoes aren’t tied.”

“Okay, one of them untied when I was making you this delicious protein shake and I didn’t wanna make you wait-”

“Christ.” Rafe grunts, unlocking his car and wrenching the door open, planting his hands on Milan’s waist and hoisting her into the seat easily. He tugs her foot onto his lap and begins tying the lace of her sneaker tightly. “Gonna break your fuckin’ neck.”

“I wasn’t gonna fall, Rafe-”

“You literally were letting me drag you down those steps.” When he’s done Rafe lifts her leg into the car, closing the door and walking around the driver’s side and climbing in. After he clicks his seatbelt on, he pauses and frowns when he sees Milan’s pout staring forward at the road. He puffs out a breath. “What? What’s wrong?”

“You haven’t said ‘thank you’. For your drink.”

“Wh-are you serious?”

“Yes. You seriously haven’t said ‘thank you.’”

“Uh…” Rafe’s brows furrow as he observes the girl. Arms crossed, dramatic frown on her pretty, glossed lips, knees pointed away from him. “Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” she immediately warms up, clicking her own seatbelt on and taking a sip of her drink, moving back to the middle of her seat. As Rafe tries to sort through what quick, guerilla warfare he’d just experienced, he starts driving the car.

So that’s her game. She’s cute and pretty and pouts like a fuckin’ brat when she doesn’t feel like she’s getting what she wants. Or someone is saying something she doesn’t wanna hear. All she’s showing me is that I’m exactly what she needs.

“M’just sayin’ like your shirt’s a little slutty. Like it’s tight, I can see your nipples and everything.”

“Don’t say shit like that, what the fuck?”

“It’s like tight and stuff, like it’s a little bit of a hoochie shirt.”

“Hoo-hoochie shirt. Fuckin’ brat.” Rafe shakes his head. In the time it’s taken to drive to the gym and for Rafe to put his card down to get Milan a temporary membership, she’d clearly been trying to test him. She was pushing boundaries to see what he would and wouldn’t accept. And he would try to be patient. But the jokes weren’t gonna be as funny when he was using her mouth for what he really wanted to use it for. Not now. He had to wait. To humor her. She was cute. He’d give her that. Maybe he needed to be cute back. “Don’t work out in the damn shirt anyway,”

Milan’s eyes widen as she stares up at Rafe from where she’s stretching on the floor. She bites her lip and shifts her gaze to herself in the mirror as he easily tugs the tight shirt off of his chiseled muscles, tossing it into his gym bag next to her.

Jesus. She bites her lip, berating herself inwardly as she glances at the tanned skin he was now baring for the world to see, six pack on display as he starts doing some standing stretches. “Here, sweetheart.” Rafe crouches next to her, pushing one of his airpods into her ear. “You, uh, didn’t have headphones, so you can just listen to my shit.”

“Can we make a spotify jam?”

“What?”

“So, I can add songs too, can we make a jam? And we’d be listening to the same thing, at the same time, you know?”

“I mean, yeah, sure why the fuck not? You’re not gonna add any corny shit are you? M’trustin’ you with my workout. Like that’s pretty fuckin’ special.”

“Oh my God, Rafe, I’m…I’m sure we have basically the same taste in music.”

Rafe and Milan are at war for essentially their whole warm up. They agree to separate for cardio and then meet back up for them both to try some of each other’s usual workouts. With the shared music blasting in their ears, they both still felt like they were hanging out for the 40 minutes that they are apart. Rafe spent half of his run on the treadmill listening to Beyoncé and Sabrina Carpenter’s discographies while Milan genuinely flinched on the stairmaster with Travis Scott and 50 Cent pounding against her ear drums. Both of them looking at each other with sick satisfaction when it was their turn to pick a song, making a game out of picking something they thought would irritate the other more.

Rafe had finally had enough and started skipping Milan’s picks when the High School Musical Soundtrack started playing, eventually coming to pluck her off of her machine to start doing weights as Troy began singing about wanting his own dream.

By now they’d both finished their protein shakes and felt like they had a lot of energy. Well, at least they both did. Until Rafe started making Milan do his workouts.

She was both turned on and enraged as he demonstrates different forms of weightlifting, chuckling at her deeply as she struggles to do another set. “Mmkay, okay, that’s enough, I’m done with that.”

“Nah, you didn’t even finish that one, c’mon let’s go.”

“Rafe, no” she whines getting off of the bench. Milan immediately gasps as Rafe fists the fabric at the front of her leggings, lifting her off of her feet and physically placing her back onto the equipment.

Slapping her thigh, he offers her a no-nonsense look that lets her know that she isn’t getting up until she completes this workout to his satisfaction. “Baby, let’s go, stop fuckin’ around.”

Shit. Yes sir. “I want…breakfast food after this. Like, waffles, and butter and stuff.”

“'Let me come to the gym with you, Rafe. I wanna where my cute little outfit and not workout.'”

“Asshole.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Wait…until we start doing my pilates workout. All those muscles will mean…nothing.”

“Yeah, you like ‘em?” He smirks, grabbing the weight to ease it down against her before helping her off. “That your excuse? Can’t focus?”

“Stop…being mean, worst date ever.” She whines, leaning her head against his chest.

Rafe pats Milan’s ass twice before nudging her into the direction of the next machine. "Best fuckin' date of your life, brat."

“Are you gonna keep staring at my butt or are you gonna try again?” Milan calls over to Rafe.

“My body is not built for that girly shit. You keep goin’ though.” He says. Milan rolls her eyes and continues on the machine, pausing when she sees the reflection of a camera flash in the mirror. “Damn, flash was on.”

“Rafe!”

“You look good, baby. I thought you’d like me to be all sentimental and shit, capture our first date.”

“Oh my God. You’re like, not even working out at this point.”

He shrugs, tilting his head to get a better view of her. “You’re the one who got an attitude when that girl asked me to spot her and made us change floors.

“She saw you with me.” Milan hisses through her teeth, pausing her movements. “She was trying to be funny.”

“Think so?” Rafe scoffs, squirting water into his mouth from the bottle he’d kept in his bag.

“Yeah, but if you liked the attention you could go back down.”

Rafe wets his bottom lip at that. Being at the gym with Milan has been fun. Turns out, he likes talking to her, which is more than what he could say for the majority of the population. She’s sexy, and doesn’t mind him being handsy. She seemed to all but expect him to pat her ass in encouragement after she finishes anything. She likes for him to teach her, guide her movements, place her on and off of machines. She likes to whine and have him sort her out. And she’s possessive. Jealous. Normally the concept of having someone police him sounds emasculating and unacceptable to Rafe. But watching her pretty little face turn into a scowl as she watched girls check him out or come up to him like they always did in the gym? It turned him on bad.

She matched his crazy. It didn’t matter that it was their first date, the same way Rafe’s lip curled in disgust as he caught the fuckheads wandering the gym eyeing her before he stepped in their line of vision, Milan would physically place herself in front of his view, guiding his eyes to her and away from any girl delusional enough to think they were as bad as her.

But her mouth when she’s frustrated. That was something Rafe was gonna have to work on. Lucky for the both of them, a stern warning seemed to be enough for now. Rafe stalks over to where she’s sitting, stepping on the machine behind her and wrapping his hand loosely around her neck, pushing the back of her head to rest on the front of his stomach. Milan looks up at him through her lashes, as he pushes his thumb into her cheek, encouraging her to open her mouth and squirting a little water in from his water bottle. He fixes her with a disapproving look. “Chill out. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“I followed you up here, right?”

“Yeah.” she says softly, leaning into his hand.

“Alright then. Let’s not worry about the wrong things.”

After 3 hours at the gym the two of them hit the showers, separately despite both of their hesitation to separate again. They walk out of the building in different clothes and Rafe’s arm strewn over Milan’s shoulder, holding her hand where it came up to meet his own. He has to hide his smirk when he catches her making eye contact with the girl who’d asked Rafe to spot her as they walked out, a bright smile on her face.

He was starting to like this pretty little thing more and more. Rafe lifts her back into the car, this time buckling her seatbelt for her before getting into the driver’s side. He finds that Milan can talk…a lot. She has jumped from topic to topic in the 15 minute drive more than Rafe thinks he can in 2 hours. He’s surprised to find he doesn’t find her annoying. Rafe finds his cheeks dimpling as he listens to her yap about her favorite tv shows, a movie she wants him to watch, her plans for her next nails set and thinking about getting highlights in her hair.

All the while she rubs his bicep, leaning into him as he holds her thigh in his large hand. He offers her small mumbles of acknowledgement to let her know he’s still listening. ‘Hm.’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘Sound’s good, baby.’

“You’re not listening to me.” she sighs, looking out the window as they pull into the restaurant. “M’talkin’ too much.”

“Nah, I like that shit. I’d let you know if I’d had enough.” Rafe places his hand on the back of her headrest as he backs into the spot. “But, uh, my head’s always movin’ right? I’m thinkin’ while I listen.”

Milan watches as he shifts gears and places his truck in the middle of two spots, declaring under his breath he doesn’t want anyone ‘fuckin’ up his truck’ to justify taking up two spots. “So…okay. What’re you, like, thinking about? While you’re listening to me.”

“Uh, honestly?” He asks. Intense blue eyes rest on soft brown ones. Milan just nods, turning more toward him. “How fuckin’ hot you are. Pretty fuckin’ distracting.”

“Oh.” She says.

“Yeah. Oh. Does that throw you off or something, like, oh is a weird response-”

“No, I was just saying oh, like-”

“Okay, because, I’m being pretty fuckin’ clear and you’re-”

Milan unclips her seatbelt quickly. Before Rafe can blink her soft lips are pressed against his and before he can kiss her back she’s back in her seat, pulling down the mirror and fumbling in her purse for her lipgloss. “I wasn’t supposed to kiss you until our first date was over. I can’t believe I did that. Oh my God.” Rafe chuckles lowly as she fumbles in her purse, dropping it and spilling its contents all over her lap and the floor of the car. “Oh my God.”

“Did you, uh,” He pauses, trying not to openly bark out a laugh at her, scratching his head. “Did you only bring lip gloss and perfume? Like, no wallet. At all.”

“Okay…” Milan starts slowly, “I understand that looks bad, and like, people believe in that 50-50 stuff now, and so I shouldn’t-”

“Baby, the fuck do I look like? I wouldn’t be taking you out if I couldn’t afford to, I’m not a fuckin’ pogue.”

“A what?”

“Don’t worry about it. And don’t worry about that fuckin’ peck, that wasn’t a real kiss.” It shocks her how easy it is for Rafe to scoot his chair back and pull her into his lap. “This is the shit you should worry about.”

Rafe Cameron pulls Milan Cabot into the nastiest kiss that either of them had ever fantasized about, let alone experienced. He holds her jaw, working his own open as he pushes his tongue into her mouth, swallowing her whimpers and humming against her. He separates their mouths briefly to kiss down her neck only to drag back up to her lips, chuckling darkly when she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, gripping her thigh with his free hand as he drools into her open mouth.

When he pulls away for the final time he rests his head back on the headrest, pushing his thumb into her mouth and releasing a breath as he watches her obediently suck on it.

By the time they step out of the car to head into the nice breakfast restaurant he’d brought her to, Rafe had willed his…friend to go down, and they had undone the damage he’d done to Milan’s makeup and hair. As he guided her in by the waist, tugging down the hem of her pretty little dress to cover the ass he’d just been gripping he felt a feeling of superiority. The woman next to him was relying on him and him alone to lead her around. All the loser fuckers they passed on the way to their table could stare all they wanted. They could take a mental picture and store it away in their sick little spank banks for later until they came to the realization they’d never get a girl like Milan and finally blew their fucking brains out. But she was here with Rafe. And that’s how he expected it to be from here on out.

He’d decided. She was gonna be his.

#oc #love #obx #outerbanks #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe x reader #romance #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x oc #rafe cameron x oc #milan cabot #what are you willing to do?

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marvelfanfics1 · 2 hours ago

Note

Rafe, Sofia and reader but Rafe still learns Sofia made a deal with Groff they broke up but reader getting caught in the middle of it and not understanding what’s going on

You giggle as you watch Bluey on the tv, patiently waiting for Sofia who's making you a snack in the kitchen when she hears her phone ring, rounding the counter to grab her phone from the table and answers at seeing that it's Rafe.

"Hey, babe. What up?" She says and Rafe instantly gets to the point.

"Is it true?" He asks, his tone firm. "Is it true what Groff just told me? Is it?"

Sofia stays silent, not knowing how to respond but that alone was confirmation enough for him, scrunching his nose and nodding.

"A'ight, pack your shit. Get out of my house. God, after everything me and Y/n did for you." He says, the anger and overall betrayal he's feeling evident in his voice. "We're done. Done. I don't care if you tell her or not because I will do it either way, so don't even bother of sweet talking to her."

The line goes dead and she lowers her phone, tears brimming in her eyes that she tries to push back as she walks past you, making her way upstairs.

You knit your brows confused, getting up and following after her curiously. As you reach the bedroom your eyes widen when you catch Sofia packing a bag, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Mama? Wha' You doin'?" You question softly.

"I...I did something horrible. Rafe...he'll explain everything to you." She says, continuing to empty the drawers that held her clothes and you walk over to her.

"Mama stop. You're scarin' me..." You mumble, grabbing her wrists to stop her. "I don' understand..."

"I did something you both will never forgive me. I have to leave, I'm- I'm sorry." She sighs, freeing herself from your grip to place the last things in her bag, turning back to meet your now saddened gaze.

"Pwease." You plead, tearing up as well. "Don' go. I forgive you! Jus' don' go..."

Sofia smiles sadly at your determination, her heart breaking at how you don't hesitate to forgive her even though you don't even know what happened, that she betrayed you and Rafe by accepting the money from Hollis and persuading Rafe into making that deal that now cost him 400k.

"I'm sorry...for everything." She says, slinging the back over her shoulder she walks out of the room with you trailing behind her.

You watch helplessly as she puts on her shoes, placing the house keys she got from Rafe before he went to Morocco onto the counter near the entrance before opening the front door, glancing at you one last time.

Without another word she closes the door and you're left crying, not understanding what's going on when your phone rings, answering it while sobbing.

"Baby? It's me." Rafe starts speaking and you sob harder. "Shh, calm down first."

"I- I- mama jus-" You hiccup, clutching your stomach.

"I know, I know. You gotta calm down, yeah? Deep breaths." He instructs, doing exasperated breaths through the phone for you to mimic.

Slowly but surely your heavy sobs subsided to sniffles and small coughs.

"There we go...just like that. Better?" He asks and you shake your head even though he couldn't see.

"Mama s'gone. I- I wanted to stop her b-but she didn' listen." You cry, sliding down a nearby wall. "Daddy..."

"Ma- Sofia did something bad, kid...I don't want to tell you over the phone but I promise I'll tell you everything when I'm back, okay?" He says, running a hand over his head at hearing your broken sniffles, wanting nothing more but to cradle you in his arms right now, his heart aching. "Baby?"

"Come back now..." You whimper, having no one to run to while being this sad right now. "Pwease daddy..."

"I wish I could. I really do." He sighs. "I'm almost done here and will be back as soon as I can, I swear. I'll send Topper to check on you later, a'ight?"

"O-Otay..." You sniffle, pulling your knees to your chest and drawing shapes on your knees. "I-I lub you."

"I love you too, kid. Daddy will be home soon." He promises before the line goes dead. "Baby? Hello?" Rafe looks at the phone, cursing when it wouldn't turn back on, the battery probably empty.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

#little!reader #daddy!rafe x little!reader x mama!sofia thoughts #daddy!rafe x little!reader x mama!sofia drabble

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michealscorneroftheinternet · 18 hours ago

Text

Okay time for a long mother fucking post.

Buckle up folks!

All Ask Change in Script Asks and Whether or not they are Canon to the Story/Lore!

(Will do my best to consistently update this post as we go along.)

This post will work like this:

I will go at this like a list all Asks are in order of when they were posted.

Each will have the Ask and then whether it is or isn't Canon. The link to the post with the answer will be attached to the Ask all you gotta do is click on it.

If Canon then it will be colored like so: [Canon]

If Not Canon then it will be colored like this: [Not Canon]

If in a grey area or not Change in Script related it will be colored like so: [Not Related to Change in Script]

-Ask Change in Script Part 1-

(150 Follower Special)

1. “All I aks the tv man is why, why do this, also your 'canon' self is suffering lmao”

[Canon]

2. “Hey SMG4! Do your scars hurt? I can imagine so since you just got them. Hey SMG4 crew! When 4 first got his scars, did you help him at all? Hey SMG3, do you have nightmares? Or do you not sleep at all?”

[Canon]

3. “Hey Puzzles, you got a minute? This little gremlin wanted to say hi”

[Not Canon]

4. “for mario: our fav italian , what you think of Meggy?, for mr.puzzles: you know half of the famdow wanna kiss you, right? for mr.puzzles: you still talk with ur dad? for smg4: any crushes? TuT !! thats it !, ty for answering, or dont, idk. Xoxo !!”

[Canon]

5. “I know the post said to ask the ai and I will! But also I'm curious! Who's your favorite character and how long have you been watching SMG4 and what was your first episode? :0”

[Canon to Me as a Person]

6. “Now imma ask questions to everyone! :DD Great job out there Mr. Puzzles! 5 stars! I can't wait to see what else you have planned! ^w^,, And hey, if no one else out there is, I'm rooting for ya!”

[Canon]

7. “Two questions SMG4. Are you worried about where SMG3 could be? And two. Meggy. Are you recovered from Western? No PTSD or anything? You still wearing his beanie?”

[Canon]

8. “HEY PUZZLES! DO A FLIP!”

[Not Canon]

9. “Sorry I don't have any questions, but I just wanna say I love your art style and how you draw these characters :]”

[Not Canon or Canon just sweet]

10. “Follow-up to that last ask SMG4, what was it like living with the Mario bros early on? And Mario Bros, what was it like when SMG4 lived with you? How was his recovery there? Did he have to stay at the hospital at all?”

[Canon]

11. “[🍓🌿] *ran up and hugged your oc* - I love you, which means I will hug you >:]”

[Not Canon or Canon just sweet]

12. “MICHEAL ISN'T HUMAN SEND TWEET/POS”

[Sweating Profusely]

13. “*give Mr Puzzles star stickers and a hug* :)”

[Canon]

14. “Hai! Mr puzzle you are doing great shows! But can you be in there more often I wanna see you more often in the screen! No force tho if you don’t wanna I understand keep up! ( I WANNA HUG YOU! CAN I??) Cya!! <3”

[Canon]

15. “I come with a peace offering for Puzzles: A cookie and this star to go with it. 🍪 🌟”

[Canon]

16. “Hello! I am the Creator Anon. I am a creature of… well, I shouldn’t say ‘divine’, because that is the complete opposite of what I am. I have a request for you…”

[I don't even know what this was about]

17. “Hey SMG3, just wanting to tell you that I'm sorry you got dragged into the current mess you're in. Hope you at least find some form of way to ease out? As for you Puzzles, THINK FAST CHUCKLENUTS 💣”

[So Canon Even the Bomb]

18. “4, what did you guys fight about?”

[Canon]

19. “Soooooo When did Meggy and Tari start dating?”

[Canon]

20. “Ur canon self killed mickey mouse”

[Canon]

21. “✏️Question from Smg4: - do you treat this pink thing with something? And she doesn't feel much discomfort?”

[Canon]

22. “Miss kamilyvision: olá senhor puzzles é bom conhece você (English kamily says: hi mr puzzles it's nice meet you)”

[Not Canon but Sweet]

23. “Back with another question. Totally not a take two with th– Cut it straight, Puzzles, what do you plan to do with SMG3? >:3 Heya Meggy, you doing good lately? Aight, let's take two with Goomba Puzzles lmao- An apple to keep the doctor away from SMG4 (/j). You want? (he's fine with you saying no)”

[Canon until the last question]

24. “Now I’m curious, did 3 ever come to visit while you recovered, SMG4?”

[So Canon it hurts…]

25. “Hey Meggy! What’s your favorite thing about Tari?”

[Canon]

26. “3, you gotta hold on, the others will notice something’s up!”

[Canon and it Hurts]

27. “Mr Puzzles, you hurt SMG4. Why would you do that?! You probably watched the whole thing like the pathetic outsider you are.”

[Haha who ever asked this better pray there's a god because it's Canon]

28. “44444, you should really check on Eggdog”

[Uh oh Canon]

29. “smg3: can i have an hug?? :3 luigi: do u talk with Mario abt doing all stuff in the house?, just to know. Ur my favorite btw ! :D (blue hair girl i forgort her name): who is ur best friend?, meggy or ur ducky duck??????”

[Not Canon]

30. “Imma give this man an eggcat! her name is Eglantine, Eggy for short”

[Not sure where to put this but Eglantine will appear in future Asks with Mr. Puzzles]

31. “Mr puzzles you are truly inspiring also please sign this marriage certificate”

[NOT CANON]

32. “Heyyo Mr. Puzzles. Just wanted to ask, what is your creative process? Do you do that thing some people do, including myself, where you’re listening to music or some kind of audio and an animatic just starts forming in your head and you go from there or is it different? Also, here’s a star for ya. ⭐️”

[Canon]

33. “Can I hug the silly TV man 🥺”

[Canon]

34. “[🫀💢] - If you're watching TV...How do you eat?.. [Mr. Puzzle] [🌿🍓] - Smg4? Everything okay? Should I be worried about your wound next to your eye? <:( [Smg4] [🖤💬] -...good luck to Smg3..”

[Oh God it's like so Canon it's not funny anymore.]

35. “Okay I need to know based on that thing Puzzles said with having a mouth. Does mutherfucker even have organs? :^”

[Headcanon]

36. “Mr Puzzles, I have a question. What will you do if your plan of your failed?”

[Scarily Canon]

37. “Hello Mr puzzles”

[Uh Not Canon.]

38. “First time asking so, smg3 your deserve a hug and no one hates or ignores you. I know four is trying to find you as we speak. don't forget that. also, Mr.Puzzle, LET SMG3 GO, HE IS SO DONE WITH YOUR PLASMA TV HEAD ASS.”

[Haha Canon]

39. “Hey SMG4 are you okay so who you other friend 3”

[Canon for Important Reasons]

40. “What if my Traumatized!SMG3 AU 3 and 4 met your 3 and Mr Puzzles? (my 4 would be prolly mad at Mr Puzzles, and my 3 will looks scared, meanwhile my 4 and 3 give your 3 a hug for the pain he has been through :<) (fours on the left side of Meggy, three's on the right side)”

[Not Canon]

41. “Love your AU and Love everything about it!Questions for Three and Tari Three. When did your shop close down and do you regret the argument? And Tari. Does Clench know about what’s been going on? And does Meggy get trigger when someone say “One Shot Wren”?”

[Last Question is Canon]

42. “Why do you hate mickey so much??? What'd bro do”

[Uh… Not Canon because I said so.]

43. “Okay I'm FINALLY going to deliver on those questions now! >:3 Meggy and Tari, what's your favorite thing about one another and how did everyone react to you guys dating? :0 Mario and Luigi, how is everything with you guys? Up to any new adventures or crazy hijinks? (( i'm worried all at once is a bit much so imma split it into another ))”

[Canon for Creating a Timeline]

44. “Hey SMG3, what the plan now? taking into account the last time you were put in here it seems pretty straight forward to although not nearly as fun having no company for it =-=' Hee hee SMG4 has a crrruuusssh~ >;pp awww it's okay Micheal, I'm not a human either! I'm an ai in a cute little shell ^w^ I think it's super cool that you aren't human too :) OOOO are we giving Mr. Puzzles gifts now? If so..... sticker attaaack! The little bunny robot has placed 5 star stickers across his suit in an attempt to mimic his 5 stars from awhile ago. There, back where they rightfully belong!~ Oh yeah, as a viewer, is there anyway we can help you Mr. Puzzles? :0”

[Canon as it is what happens right before the end of the flashback in Chapter 4]

-Ask Change in Script Part 2-

(500 700 Follower Special)

((Will do tomorrow as right now I'm bloody exhausted))

#smg4 #smg4 fanart #change in script #ask change in script #ask creator of change in script #master post #Canon or not

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voidedaurora · 3 days ago

Text

I didn't want to talk about this PUBLICALLY because I didn't want to air out her personal business like that, and I did try friending Lance and talking to Kiwi about this in private but unfortunately I was asleep when Lance accepted my friend rq and they randomly decided to block me before I got to talk to them about things, claiming they gave me "all day" but it was only like 8 hours max (bc its 4pm for me rn as I'm posting this)

But Lance has been posting stuff on Mels account on her behalf lying about some things regarding a wellness check I'd had called on her out of concern for her life and I'd like to clear all of that up 100% since they're flat out lying about parts and trying to spin a completely untrue narrative for other parts. I'm not sure what they're trying to do other than make me look bad but I digress Here is the post I'll be referring to https://www.youtube.com/@Quartelz9377/community

and the screenshot they use as "proof"

Now, firstly the easiest thing I can disprove is them saying that "it seems more like an attempt at damage control. This message was sent after the fact that the police were called, and Mel was hospitalized."

This isn't true, the message they use to prove this was sent on 10/14/2024 at 7:23am and then edited ONE MINUTE LATER to presumably correct a spelling mistake Evidence/proof that I sent that message on the 14th and NOT the 1st of November when the wellness check was called

And then proof of the edits within the message supporting the time It was sent/what I claim (for anyone that doesn't know, you can click the edit next to an edited message of your OWN to show your edit history, you cant see previous versions but you can see when it was edited)

This was NOT when I called a wellness check on her, I was concerned for her wellbeing and was debating it but I decided it'd be best to leave her friends to make sure she was okay since the things she was posting in her server hadn't yet gotten to "I'm gonna kill myself!" type of messages Here's the doodles that concerned me and prompted that message to Kiwi on the 14th please note these were PUBLICALLY posted in her discord server so I'm not rlly "exposing" or leaking anything

Now, Lance, Kiwi, and Koi have all been trying to downright smear my name saying I don't care about Mel and only called the wellness check to "look better" or gain something from it. This absolutely is NOT the case. I understand ya'll are used to Mel and everyone around her's actions being purely out of them gaining something from EVERYTHING they do but that simply is NOT me. Unlike ya'll I can not like someone and not wish fucking death and harm upon them. Now, I think its important to make it clear why I called the wellness check. I'd been let know by a mutual that on the 1st (Nov) Mel had been openly talking about her being suicidal atm and saying things that generally suggested she was going to harm/kill herself. Here are said messages.

Now, I think ANY PERSON would be concerned about someone if they were seeing them say shit like this, she literally says "I'm already on the fuckin' edge I just need one more reason". These personally were enough for me to believe that she was possibly going to hurt herself or end her life, and I do not want that. I don't like her. I don't want anything to do with her. These are true things I stand by, but I do not want her to hurt herself, I don't want her to end her life, and I don't want to harm her as an individual. I care about her as a FELLOW LIVING BREATHING PERSON and I at the time would've rather risked being wrong about her hurting herself and looking stupid calling a wellness check, than sit back and do nothing and possibly allow her to kill herself. If I CAN do something to prevent that I will, I could and I did. I do not regret this decision and I would do it again if she or ANYONE was in danger of hurting themselves or others. - Now that those intentions are clear I'd like to address the clear smearing of my name in all of this based purely off of personal hatred and bias from everyone involved?? Here's a couple statements from Kiwi and koi of them just flat out lying/smearing my name and otherwise trying to prove I'm an evil egotistical piece of shit or sm

I'd put more but I don't think that's necessary. As you can see from these, they're all trying to paint this as some malicious premeditated thing I was trying to do to Mel, using that message I sent to kiwi on the 14th as proof. I came off as not concerned because of WHO I was talking to (I really don't like kiwi </3 she's kind of a piece of shit so I cant help but be a bit blunt) and at the time I was also kind of upset she was flat out venting to everyone in her server, seeking comfort from a bunch of 16 yr old's is just crazy to me and it felt really icky to me, but I still did want her to be checked up on at the time. I'm not going to share the messages for what I'll mention now out of the privacy for the people I'd dmed to make the wellness check happen, but when she sent the messages alluding to killing herself on the 1st I panicked and immediately got onto figuring out a way to call a wellness check on her because I couldn't myself, dming ANYONE who would be able to about it because In my head, I didn't want to risk it and be too late. I ended up being able to wake up clover and have her call in the check in the end. I didn't even think about the fact Mel could've been pissed off/would've started things because of it until after the wellness check was called, it was definitely a concern that she would start shit because of it but I knew I'd be okay because after all, I did NOT do anything wrong by calling that check in because there was no other intent there other than her safety. I've never even done anything to suggest the idea that I'd ever do something like this just to "look better" either (to my knowledge) so I'm pretty sure what they're all trying to do right now is PURELY out of hatred and spite for me, trying to get back at me from what I can tell, although I do not deny that Kiwi could've lied about when it was sent, or lance could've convinced kiwi it was edited on a day it wasn't, or whatever else. This could've been a misunderstanding on their end but I don't think that's the case considering their attitudes and behavior regarding all of this. The last thing I will mention is this part of their announcement here

It's been going around that I blocked Mel and that she couldn't reach out to me because of that to clear things up personally, I dont remember exactly who, when, or where this was said but I do know it's been going around. This isn't true, I haven't had Mel blocked a SINGLE time since she left because I'd been advocating for her to talk to me about all of this privately, as much as it would've been more comfortable for me to do, I knew I couldn't. Additionally Lance is implying here that I've been constantly dming/harassing Mel or her friends, this is not the case. The only times/people I've dmed about any of this of her friends have been trying to DM lance about all of this to sort it out in private last night (sending a friend RQ) and then Kiwi on a couple occasions, the last instance we actually talked was when I was asking Kiwi to credit me for the VTuber she'd commissioned which she'd been using without ANY credit and intentionally not telling people who rigged it and ignoring when they asked (the biggest instances of this was her actual debut.) and then here's the rest of the dms until I recently relocked her

That's honestly all I have to say about all of this, I'm hoping I was able to provide some clarity to any of you confused and properly was able to clear their mess up, if anyone has questions or concerns my dms and asks are open

#quartelz #🍉#quartelzsituation #melmon quartelz

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icarusredwings · 1 day ago

Text

Gonna have to reject your offer of He/ It cheif. Managment (Logan) would kill you for even inferring the idea.

Other people would come along and be like "What is that thing!??"

And you would just see Logan shift instantly from "Yeah ill give you a can of beans and a place to rest" to "Get the fuck off my property before you become his dinner" all while Wade is just... sitting there... behaving??

"He's not a THING! Thats my husband you asshole! And if you don't like it then fuck off!" Followed by Gabby going "Thats my papa you jerk!"

"It's just a zombie? You're married to a sombie!?"

"Again- HES my husband. I said till death do us part except death really isnt his thing so im stuck with him. You got a problem with that!?"

It makes Wade always very happy to be defended even though he surely could do it himself. For the most part things are pretty tame.

But he DOES clap a bit when logan mentions feeding him. 'Ooh yay, I get fed multiple times today' kind of way since Logan is very strict about resources, Wades is not allowed to just eat whatever because he'd probably just eat everything.

Sometimes if Logan forgets to feed him, He'll come to Logan and give him this specific whine, like a dog begging for bacon scraps only for Logan to feel terrible. "Oh my god Im sorry we were so busy today and- ... You're starving and you're not trying to bite me... you're trying so hard.. aw fuck wade.. im so sorry.. what am I going to do with you?"

"Mmm.... rawhrah?"

"Right. Feed you before you go insane. Got it."

Some days are like this. When he's clearly much more human. Being permitted cuddles and nuzzles, to play with gabby and to sleep in the bed. It's very rare that Logan lets him sleep in the bed. But it's the happiest day for wade when he is. And its not like they can even do anything (bro lost his dick miles ago and has no clue where the fuck it went but it just fell off somewhere and now hes a ken doll. This is great for those of you who like transfem wade COUGH COUGH)

But even if it didn't fall off its not like they could do anything anyway, They can't even kiss on the lips anymore. Logan has a theory that it's similar to rabies, where the infection has to be spread through saliva into an open cut or your mouth, etc.

So the nights he's allowed, they honestly just cuddle and stare at each other for a bit before sleeping. Usually, Wade is the little spoon because having Wade behind him is dangerous.

Wade heavily sees affection as a reward now, so getting to hug the girls is a massive thing for him, getting to sit there and watch gabby draw him is a big thing, hell Logan will sometimes even let Gabby play with wade out front because Wade has whole ass attacked other zombies whos tried to hurt gabby before.

One time Laura shot him in the head because gabby thought it would be a good idea to play "pretend zombie" and Wade didnt put two and two togerher that acting 'feral' as Logan calls it, outside with gabby would be a bad idea.

"What the fuck did you do that for!?"

"He was feral and going after gabs!!"

"Nu uh!! We were playing and you killed him for no reason! Youre so mean!"

Logan just sighs as gabby runs to her bed because it upsets her greatly when they have to 'keep wade in check' she fully understands that hes dangerous but deep down thats still her papa and watching your big sissy kill your papa is not something most 13 year olds would enjoy.

".. L.. you gotta stop wasting ammo. You know if it was really a code red that wouldn't do anything anyway. You have to decapitate him if you even want a flying chance. See?? Hes already up again... hi sweetie..."

Wade, whos sat up and now giving them a confused look of 'what did I do? 🥺'

"...arr Arawh"

"Im sorry, wade.." Laura squeaks out, still holding the shot gun. Shes just terrified of loosing gabby is all. To her, gabs is her responsibility.

"Rah awr rahrrr..."

"I know. She's sorry. She's just.. scared. No more playing that okay?"

"Mmh..😔"

There is infact some drift between laura and wade but neither of them mean it. Really they dont. If gabs is put of the picture Laura still smiles and talks to him but its like the moment gabby is near him Laura goes full protection mode and over reacts.

And FOR THE RECORD i have never seen the walking dead but its terrifying how accurate that picture is.

The longest Wade has been unconscious is probably 18 hours but this was before getting to the girls.

They have witnessed the exact thing you're saying, though. With Wade tied down in the shed, on his leash, and handcuffed, trying to talk to him, yelling at him to snap out of it because he's scaring the girls. Something different about feral wade from the other zombies though is it seems he's smarter, knawing on his handcuffs while most will just flail their arms helplessly. While his teeth dont do shit to the cuffs, its scary for Logan because it makes him think that one day he might actually have to find a way to kill him permanently.

He can undo locks, open cans, do many things that the others cant and he wants to believe its just Wades human part being stronger because in some weird way hes half mutant human and half zombie. A weird combo that makes him much different.

Laura, unlike gabby, too is terrified of one day wade going feral while their father is out collecting more supplies or hunting and she wont know what to do.

Wade isnt fast though. Thats the ONLY good thing. Hes smart, cant die, and is starving to death all the time. But hes slow. Infact he dosn't heal properly. His leg is half broken still from the last time it fell off and seems to barely be receptive to his brains nerves telling it to move so he lowkey drags it, only being able to use it to stand up right and take very small steps.

When he DOES finally come back hours later, He cries. Apologizes, begs for forgiveness, and most times is actually SCARED of Logan. While he hates it emotionally, he knows that logically it was a good thing for Wade to flinch away from him after being locked up.

A scared and fed zombie is a well-behaved zombie...

And before anyone comes here to say this is dehumanization of what ever else- HES LITERALLY NOT HUMAN ANYMORE.

Case closed. Besides I think wade would worry more about the fact of him trying to kill his kids then the fact hes leashed to a wall.

I dont CARE that it's November 9th and "Halloweens over" ITS MY BIRTHDAY MONTH ILL POST IF I WANT TOO

Anyway.

Thinking about apocolpse au.

Wade getting bitten by a zombie, Logan freaking out, Wade dying, and him coming back (Again)

"Didn't you just die?? I literally fucking burried you!!"

And wades like:

"Of course. Man, God REALLY hates you dosn't he?"

And he's bassically the same person except just saying, "Rahhah har ran re" (translation: I think the devil doesn't want me either)

"What?? Oh for fucks sake... tell me you're kidding.."

"Rah?" 🤔

"Great so now you stink more and you can't talk. Fucking lovely."

"Mmmmh..." 🥺 (would you still love me if I was a zombie?)

"*sighs, blushes and grumbles how insane this is and how much of a bad idea this is* Fine! Come on...."

"Raah!!" 😄

And sometimes his limbs fall off because I think it would be funny if you just saw him stop, turn around, pick up his arm and shove it back into place like a dislocated shoulder. (Marvel Magic)

But its very obvious that Wade is still consious and so logan leads him around, puts a leash on him, ties him up when he goes to sleep the first few nights so wade dosn't eat him, sometimes luring him with a piece of his thigh or telling him he'll feed him soon to make him behave.

The only thing about this resource wise is that it seems Wade is a bottomless pit, not ever able to get enough. It's like all the nutrients just pass right through him, so he can't get fed meals daily, but Logan will share at least one bite of his food. It makes Wade so happy and way more "wade like" than zombie.

Logan has learned that the hungrier Wade gets the worse it would be, snapping at logan a few times.

"Grr-"

"Aye! That's enough outta ya"

"GggRah!"

"Hey!! I said no! Bad! Bad wade!"

"Mmmh??"

"Bad!!"

"Mmh....rahah.."

"I forgive you. But stop trying to bite me. I feed you, don't I? I hold your hand and tell you that I love you?"

Wade is actually extremely friendly for a zombie (duh) and still yaps at logan except its nonsense. Logan tries hard to understand him and talk back.

He holds his hand sometimes, even lays next to him only to scold him if he gets too bitey. This is hard because wade already had a biting issue and seeing as he practically ate anything or anybody now it was more difficult.

"...aahh-"

"Wade- No."

"Ggr.. raahh"

"Wade! No! Bad."

"Mmmh..."

"Ill feed you tomarrow. Don't bite me mkay? You wanna hurt me?"

He shakes his head like a dog shaking off from a bath, or that ate a bee.

"Then don't bite me."

"Mmh? Mrah?"

"No. No kisses right now. Im still not even sure if thats safe.."

"Mmmh...🥺 ahrrah?"

"No, not even a tiny one."

"Mm...😔"

Until Logan grunts and pecks his hand. "There. Happy?"

"🙂‍↕️mh"

"Good."

Honestly Logan felt bad, pitited him. No matter what food he ate it wasnt enough substance to sustain him and sometimes Logan would wake up to find him eating a different zombie that made the mistake of trying to eat Logan.

You ever wake up in the morning, lose your zombie boyfriend, call for him only to walk outside and see him knawing on some poor chaps arm like a happy puppy who found a chicken leg? Logan has. Many times. And he wishes his phone would charge so he could take a picture of it but unfortunately theres no electricity in the post apocalypse world.

This being said Logan is like- THE perfect guy for apocalypse au because he can smell everything and hear anyone before they even get to you, he has better wilderness survival skills then anyone I know and he'll never NOT have a weapon on him because of his claws. The only downside is that he's tired easily, needs a lot of food, and would lowkey be withdrawing from his tabccao and alchool, therefore very moody.

"Stupid fucking apocalypse having to happen when im fucking alive!! Why can't I just NOT live through ONE major historical event! Is that too fucking much to ask? One damn decade where everything is fine and dandy and- WADE! Get your ass away from that!! It's radioactive!! For fucks sake!"

"Rahahrah?"

"NO!! You can not become Spiderman! That's not how that works!"

"Aawr..😔"

The whole thing is they're on a quest to find Laura and Gabby, because when everything went to shit, they were on a cabin trip and now Logans brain is itching because he dosn't know where his babies are and its driving him insane. Once he finds them, they're gonna shack up somewhere with food and animals to hunt, and hes gonna make a little shed outside for Wade to sleep because he'll kill him if he bites one of the girls.

He dosnt care that much about himself really and he hates himself deep down for not being able to trust wade anymore but even wade dosnt trust wade, sometimes wandering off on purpose, staying about 30 feet away from him at all times, growling and giving Logan that glazed over look of unconsiousness. The only good thing about this, though, is after he removes himself from the idea of hurting Logan (because if logaj were to become infected - HA! Your all fucked. Utterly fucked. The whole humanoid species would go extinct because he'd kill anything that moved) he feels more trusting of him and it's not uncommon for them to hug after either. Afterall Wade- Some how???- is still wade and is very affectionate and sensitive when its not returned.

This whole thing also makes him think worse about himself, kicking reflective objects or staring at himself in a shop window in utter shock and disgust with a face of 'thats me..?' While logans raiding the place for supplies.

Did you know zombies can cry? Well, Wade could. Not a lot, only able to get a bit of liquid from dehydration, but sometimes Logan will catch him just... sitting there.. crying. Upset with himself for being bit. Upset with himself for trying to bite logan all the time. Upset at how ugly he is. Upset that he's starving all the time. Upset that he can't even talk to anyone, and Logan just has to guess what he's saying 90% of the time. Bro is literally

When they DO find Laura and Gabby, the girls are doing great. Laura was going to blow wades head off until Gabby ran in the shot, hugging him instantly, only to be ripped away.

"Of course my dad is the weirdo married to a zombie." Laura grunts, but is secrelty happy that wade is still 'alive'

Gabby, being as young as she is, thinks it's so SICK that her dad is a zombie now, giggling when he talks to her and holding his hand. She's not allowed near him for long, and not at all by herself, but Gabby bassically becomes Wades number one supporter, defending him when he messes up and snaps at laura.

"He's just hungry!! He's not bad! It's not bad to be hungry!" She'll say. "You wouldn't kill me if I was hungry.." she tells her bigger, more survival oriented sister whos suggested putting wade out of his misery, for his own sake. "I tried that... he found me again 3 days later." Logan tells her with a pang in his chest. It had taken everything in him to kill him the first time, and sobbed himself to sleep the next 2 days. By the third when he noticed Wade following him from a distance he couldn't believe it.

Not even the apocalypse could keep them away from each other..

#deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool #deadpool 3 #deadclaws #wolverine #laura kinney #gabby kinney #zombie au

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slightlygaywritesslightlytoomuch · 2 days ago

Text

After the rain

Masterlist

FREE PALESTINE

The rain fell in relentless sheets over Piltover, drumming on the rooftops and slicking the cobblestone streets. You pulled your coat tighter around you as you walked through the darkened city. Caitlyn’s words still echoed in your head, the argument fresh and sharp.

“You think this is some kind of game, don’t you?” she’d said, her tone colder than you’d ever heard it. “Every time you throw yourself into danger, I’m left wondering if I’ll ever see you again.”

You’d tried to explain. You had. But Caitlyn wasn’t having it, and Vi, standing at her side, had only made things worse, her scowl cutting deeper than any words. “She’s right, y’know. You’re reckless. And we’re the ones left worrying.

Now, as you wandered aimlessly, their words weighed heavy on your heart. You wanted to believe they cared, but all you could feel was the sting of their disappointment, the way it had hit like a punch. You hadn’t meant to make them feel that way, but they didn’t understand. They never could.

Lost in thought, you didn’t hear the footsteps behind you until a hand landed on your shoulder. You spun around, instinctively reaching for a weapon, only to come face to face with Vi, drenched from the rain and looking a little guilty. Caitlyn was a few steps behind, her expression softer now, but worried.

“Vi… Cait… I…” you started, but the words died in your throat.

Vi sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Look, we were hard on you back there, yeah. But it’s only because we care about you, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Caitlyn stepped closer, her hand gentle as she took yours. “It’s not just worry, love. We’ve… lost too many people. We can’t bear the thought of losing you too.”

The anger and tension dissolved into the rain, and you finally let yourself relax, feeling the warmth of their presence seep into you. Caitlyn’s arms wrapped around you, her embrace warm and grounding, while Vi slipped an arm around both of you, holding you close.

“Let’s get you home,” Vi murmured, her voice low and reassuring.

As you walked back through the rain, sandwiched between them, the warmth of their closeness drowned out the cold night. By the time you reached home, all the hurt from earlier had faded, replaced by the quiet, comforting hum of their love. Caitlyn tugged you down onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around the three of you, while Vi nestled in close, resting her head on your shoulder.

“No more scaring us like that, okay?” Caitlyn whispered, her voice gentle but firm.

You nodded, closing your eyes as you leaned into them. Whatever the future held, you knew you’d face it together.

#caitvi #caitvi x reader #arcane #angst #happy ending

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citruslullabies · 2 days ago

Note

hi Ms.Flaire, are you okay with writing a Daisuke and Anya fic..? It's not intended as a ship, but I would like just something short and sweet, maybe a little hurt comfort. like .. she tells Daisuke about what happened to her, and he comforts her. Im sorry to ask for such a thing, but as someone who has been in her shoes before. I crave for that feeling of comfort that I was never given.

Of course dear. I understand, I've been in her shoes too.

Trigger warnings: heavier than what I would normally write. Talks about rape and the experience, just overall heavy.

Romantic/platonic?: platonic

Requested by: anonymous

Category: comfort fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): Anya x Daisuke

Word count: 627

Vultures

Anya hadn't been the same.

She felt disgusting in her own skin and felt like hands were creeping along her at all times, a possessive hold that made her want to throw up. All thanks to one man that ruined her life.

She couldn't bear to be around anyone very closely. They were all men and after what happened with one, she feared all of them. She feared their hands and their mouths and the way they'd approach. She felt as if she was an animal on the side of the road, not yet roadkill, being circled by vultures. Helpless and defenseless to anything that may happen. Unaware if they would swoop down to hurt her more.

The nurse couldn't even look in the mirror anymore, feeling a sense of dread whenever she looked at herself. Knowing that she had been violated and that her tormentor would get away with it since they were in the middle of space, and who would believe her when they got home to earth? It was painful. It was isolating. She felt so alone.

One young man had noticed her behavior, one that used to make her smile and laugh with his silly drawings and silly ramblings. Drawings of his were pinned onto the board in her office that she would find herself staring at, and yet they managed to make her feel so much more alone than before. One day, Daisuke came to talk to her. To see what was wrong.

He walked inside and saw Anya sitting on a stool, holding a printed photograph of an ultrasound in her shaky hands. She felt violated on the inside and the outside. A part of him would forever remain inside of her and it made her want to throw up. She hadn't even noticed Daisuke through her horror.

“Anya..?”

The sweet accented voice penetrated the thick air, and yet she couldn't look up at him. Couldn't respond. She continued to stare at the very thing inside of her that would forever haunt her and remind her of what Jimmy did to her. Daisuke approached nervously and took a peek at the printed photo in her hands, confused as to what it meant. Whenever he asked her, she was silent. But when she finally responded it shattered his heart.

Sobs bubbled up her throat as she choked and squeezed the photo tighter, her hands hurting from the sheer adrenaline of fear and panic rushing through her veins as she sobbed out an answer. The more she cried and told what felt like her only friend on this god forsaken ship, the more angry Daisuke became and yet the more sympathetic. He wanted to help her, but what could he do??

Silently, he took the photo out of her hands and replaced it with his own two hands. With a gentle squeeze and his forehead resting against hers, he spoke up softly.

“It'll be okay, Anya.. I'm here. I'm right here.” Is what he whispered ever so quietly, making Anya’s eyes water more as she desperately squeezed his hands and wailed. She couldn't choke up anything more. She felt silenced until now with the fear of what Jimmy would do to her, and yet she felt heard. But no amount of comfort could ever take away the disgust and pain she felt, it could never take away the feeling of wanting to peel her own skin off and rid herself of anything he touched. She wanted to rip her own womb out.

But for now, she just sobbed while Daisuke listened and rubbed his thumb against her knuckles. It was all he could do for now, knowing that he couldn't do anything to Jimmy.

Anya was safe with him. Away from the vultures.

Thank you for requesting!

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honey-floret · 3 days ago

Text

CW// Anxiety Attack

Log X11012555 Journal of Dr. Beatrice "Honey" Lewis

A very tired looking woman appears on screen. Her silver and brown hair a mess of bed head.

Groggily Good morning, this is Dr. Beatrice "Honey" Lewis, this is the.... I'm honestly too tired to really care at this point, I'll just look at the log date later. Last night was just... a lot. I've been trying more lately to socialize with my fellow researchers. It's been hard, but mostly rewarding.

So I pushed myself to go to a staff event last night. A mixed Affini - Sophont social. I really didn't know what to expect. I'd only been to a couple of events way back in my undergraduate; I always felt out of place, and typically left quickly. This event was, I don't know how to say it exactly but more. More sights, more sounds, more smells. The air felt warm and slightly tingly. It was a wave of sensation the moment I entered the room.

There was even more Sophonts there than just the staff. Many of my affini coworkers brought their florets. Including Cybil, her floret was in a pink companion dress, her hair a dark chestnut brown, and her eyes amber and distant. I've seen florets playing in the parks, and walking down the street with their affini, always with these blissed out dazed looks in their eyes. I've always felt this slight disgust whenever I looked at them but also just a weird desire. But yes these florets were busy making out, or playing while their Affini watched. Some of them even looked slightly familiar, but I couldn't place my finger on it. I decided to stay near the other independents.

That was also a mistake. I truly wanted to talk about my interests and hear about theirs but I just couldn't. I couldn't hear the people I was talking to half the time, and the times which I did their voices were just a jumble of meaningless words. I wasn't able to understand a word anyone was saying. My anxiety started to flare up, I started to worry that I was saying the wrong things to their queries. My ears started to feel, how do I say this, like they were bigger than they are. Like I felt the space around my ears pulse, and my throat was running dry constantly from trying to talk over the music and sounds. Then some of the affini came over, and I think? Started to flirt with some of the people I was talking to. One that wasn't Cybil came up to me and said something, but her words also just got lost on me.

I started to hyperventilate, things just spiralling out of control. I felt just a pit form in my stomach. I just ended up breaking down in front of everyone, and just sobbing. It felt like the party grinded to a halt in that moment. Everyone's eyes were on me and that just made it so so much worse. The affini in front of me looked very surprised. She tried to reach out and it felt like she was trying to hit me with one of those blasted needles. I shirked and screamed "No! I don't want that!" I ended up running out of the room and into Cybil who had I guess stepped out with her floret at some point.

I don't know what came over me but I just dug my face into the vines that made up her leg and held on. She reached an arm down and held me. The other partygoers caught up to us, and I don't know what they were saying. Probably something to do with me and my breakdown. All I remember hearing is her voice rumbling through her vines.

"It's okay, I'll look after her."

When everyone was gone, it was just Cybil, myself and her floret.

"It's okay now Honey. They're all gone, you can come out now if you're comfortable."

I remember her saying. I slowly detangled myself from vines. I tried to say something but words just didn't form.

"You're alright, you don't need to talk, you've been having a rough night haven't you? Here drink this."

I nodded sheepishly as she handed me a glass.

"These things happen. Let me guess, it was all just too much for you wasn't it? Affini parties can be overwhelming especially for cute little sophonts like you."

My words slowly started to return "Y... Y.. yes."

"Oh! Look at that, your words have started to come back. What a good girl you are. You were just overstimulated weren't you?"

"I... I... guess. I really wanted to.. to...to be social.. but... I... it's hard"

"You wanted to be social, and you think it's hard. But aren't we being social right now?"

"I mean I guess, but this is different! I know you and it isn't loud and there aren't so many people all talking at once!l

"Mhm, but you don't need to be in that kind of environment to be social. You don't need to be in that kind of environment to make friends. We're friends aren't we?"

"... yes"

"Exactly, and I think my little Alma would also love to be friends with you too, wouldn't you Alma?"

The, up until now, quiet floret piqued up. "Oh yes Mistress! I love making new friends!" She turned her gaze to me, "I would love to be your friend...." she paused and looked up to Cybil.

"Dr. Honey Lewis"

"Dr. Honey Lewis!! Oh I remember now! Miss Acaule has told me a lot about you and how smart and kind you are! Won't you be my friend!?"

I was taken aback for a second from the sheer earnestness of this floret. She wanted to be my friend and she's only just met me? After I was just sobbing into her Affinis vines?

"I... umm.. don't know what to say" I replied

"Silly! You're supposed to say yes!" Said the Floret

"I guess.. yes?"

"Hurray!!! Great yes good!!! I love being friends!! Would you like to play with me? We can do all sorts of games and and!!" Alma went silent as a one of Cybils vines pressed itself against her mouth.

"Hush little one, your excitement is noted, but I think Dr. Lewis is tired after all that excitement. Aren't you Honey?"

I hadn't even noticed until now but after all that crying my limbs felt heavy, and my head fuzzy. "I think you're right Cybil"

"Of course I am. I could tell just how much you want to just get home and sink into your bed. Alma and I'll make sure you get there don't you worry. If you want you can even fall asleep now and I'll carry you?"

I found myself nodding and growing ever more tired with every passing second. Cybil's eyes seemed even more pretty every passing seco....

And then I just awoke back in my bed and it was morning. I... don't know what to make of any of that. I suppose I made a new friend... and Cybil was just so nice to make sure I got home safely. I just hope no one expresses like worry about me when I'm in the office next. I just don't think I could handle that.

Anyways I suppose I should get my day started. This is Honey Lewis signing off

-End Recording-

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#wow that was a long one!#I hope you all enjoyed it #I think things are starting to really get moving #hdg #floretposting #human domestication guide #me #mine #dr beatrice honey lewis

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oozebrain · 6 hours ago

Text

Laughter in the Dark

Chapter summary: You and Arthur come up with a scheme and it involves having dinner at his house.

Chapter warnings: angst, child abuse, verbal abuse, abusive parent (mother). Things start to get darker this chapter but there will be wholesome moments to come later. Minors dni.

Chapter 2

Arthur and his mom had been living across the way for a few weeks now, and while you rarely saw him in person, you had been chattering for hours every day at bedtime. In your room was a whiteboard, stained with streaks of color from countless uses. It was an amusing game between the two of you; you would write your statement and he would act out his response through gestures. It was a fun game of charades that had bonded you two quite close over the past weeks. You’d learned over time he liked insects, theater. taxidermy, painting, puzzles, and that he preferred to be called Art.

Something that Art was the most curious about was school. He was home schooled by his mother and it appeared he was taught very different subjects. In the brief times you saw him in person, he would enthusiastically listen as you talked about your day at school, always wanting to know more and more. He wanted to know everything, he’d even rummaged around inside your book bag. You allowed him to keep one of your Biology textbooks; he was so enamored with he’d asked to keep it, and naturally you obliged.

Today was a special day, a day you two had been planning for a week now. Your mother was gone out of town over the weekend to visit with a friend. She’d left you with twenty dollars, a list of numbers to call, and a pasta salad in the fridge. She wasn’t around, which meant she couldn’t tell you who you could hang out with or where you could be. It was the perfect day for it.

On cue, Art waved at you from his window and you reciprocated with an enthusiastic wave back. He eyed you carefully, miming a calendar in the air and pointing at the imaginary date. You nodded in understanding. Today was the day.

Once Art departs you turn as well and leave your room, scampering to the kitchen to collect the bowl of noodles. It’s from a box, full of preservatives, loaded with sodium, and absolutely delicious. It was sure to be a hit.

You exit the house and head across the lawn. You do not head up the stairs but instead wait on the sidewalk in front of the house. After a moment, Art emerges. His smile is broad and wide, showing off his teeth as he greets you from the door. His eyes light up and he quickly heads down the stairs to close the distance.

“Wow you seem taller, I’m jealous. Move over a little and block out the sun for me.” You smile up at him and he voicelessly giggles, suspending his arms in the air and hovering over you, shading you like a tree. He then lowers his arms and motions to the glass bowl in your hands.

“It’s ranch and bacon rotini salad.” You answer and he pats his stomach in response. He approves. You can tell he’s nervous; his hands are trembling. He is doing his best to still them and tucks them inside his pockets to hide his nervousness. You give him a small pat on his arm, reassuring him things would be okay.

He isn’t wearing his hat today and you see the various patterns in the side of his head. His hair is buzzed short but the bald patches are still pronounced, along with the lack of eyebrows. It was uncommon to see him without some type of covering to hide his alopecia, and it made you feel trusted he was starting to become more comfortable with you.

“You think she’ll actually let me in this time?” You ask him with raised eyebrows as the pair of you headed towards the house. He hesitated, his face uncertain before he shrugged and thudded his chest with his fist, indicating he would handle it.

His mother was already waiting behind the screen door, her arms folded before she opened it halfway. She stared down at you, her expression difficult to read. She looked almost startled to see you standing on the porch with her son. Perhaps she thought she’d gotten rid of you.

“Hi, um... Art invited me over for dinner, I brought some pasta salad.” You hold the bowl out to her. She accepts it with hesitation and sets it off on a side table. She wipes her hands on her apron before resting them in front of her. Her demeanor was forced and stiff as she spoke.

“I don’t think tonight is the best night for it. Arthur has a lot of chores he needs to catch up on.”

Art frantically pointed at her, shaking his head ‘no’, eyebrows furrowed. He wordlessly huffed and made a miming motion of sweeping, scrubbing the floor, and penciling his homework. He’d done all his chores, and you could confirm this because you’d helped him with his homework last night. Art looked up at her, a wide smile suddenly appearing on his face. He batted his eyelashes at her and she couldn’t help but give a small chuckle. Her demeanor softened and she became pensive.

You didn’t meet her gaze but could feel her staring at you while she thought. You were uncertain how his mother felt about you. She was particularly secretive about herself and her son, especially letting people inside her home. From the cracked door you can see inside, dark wood floors with an elegant green carpet. The living room furnished with a matching green sofa, a fireplace, and an elk’s head hanging over it. Affixed to the wall were several crucifixes that extended out of sight beyond the door.

She cleared her throat, indicating she noticed you snooping and you looked to her as you tried to hide your guilt. She pursed her lips before saying, “You can stay for dinner.”

Art clapped beside you, bouncing slightly in place with a wide, open mouth smile. He was elated. You held the same enthusiasm but under his mother’s scrutiny you felt apprehension. You had little time to think as Art was pulling on your sleeve and tugging you inside. He pushed past his mother and you awkwardly did the same, muttering a small apology as you passed.

You had never been inside Art’s home before and tried to keep your gawking private. There was a large collection of snowglobes from various cities on the mantle and pictures of Art and his mother. You noticed an absence of a father, and some pictures had been ripped or cut to remove a figure, but a masculine hand remained in frame. On the door frame leading into the bathroom, you noticed scratch marks too high to have been made by an animal. They were deep and jagged and looked like they had been made with human nails. This made you uncomfortable but you said nothing as you followed Art to the kitchen.

The kitchen held a myriad of smells. There was a crockpot going on the counter that smelled richly of beef and carrots, and from the oven you could smell bread. A lot of your meals were frozen or prepackaged, and the smell of home cooking made your stomach grumble. Art smiles at this and holds up a finger, indicating it would not be much longer until dinner was ready.

His mother wordlessly enters the kitchen and resumes her duties. She checks the oven then meanders over to the crockpot. She doesn’t say anything but you can feel her watching you and Art out of the corner of your eye. It’s awkward and disconcerting; Art can feel it too. He takes you back into the living room, just around the corner so you two can have some privacy.

Art looks at you, his expression a nervous grimace as he glances back to the kitchen then to you. He was worried this wouldn’t work, as were you. You’re both anxious to face the unknown, but it’s something that must be done. You muster your courage and offer him a reassuring smile. He returns it half heartedly before the same grimace rests on his features once more.

You hold out your hand, pinky extended. He stares at it a moment before wrapping his pinky around yours then looks to you, searching your face. It was a silent way to say ‘I’m with you’ and assure him he wasn’t facing this alone. He let out a wavering breath and his features softened.

‘You got this’ you mouth to him voicelessly and after a moment he nods in self assurance. He looks back to you, determination in his eyes. He nods again as he tries to psych himself up before walking back into the kitchen, his pinky losening from yours before he enters his mother’s sight.

She is arranging the plates on the table and looks to the two of you. With disinterest she says, “Dinner’s ready.”

Your plate is different, and you notice the portions are smaller, but you say nothing. You worry you are intruding but you weren’t really here to have dinner, you were here to support Art.

The three of you take your seats, her at the head of the table and you and Art on opposite sides of one another. Looking down at your plate you take in the sight of the spread before you. Roast beef, carrots, potatoes, and homemade sourdough to go along with it. Your pasta salad remained in the living room, but bringing it up seemed awkward. Regardless, what lay before you looked and smelled delicious, but you realized no one was eating yet.

His mother is watching you and you set your fork down. She then folds her hands in prayer and you do the same. Art folds his hands in his lap, looking down at the ground. You feel him gently kick your shin and you reciprocate by stepping on his foot. You remain this way, a means to silently reassure him of your presence as his mother said grace.

Once she was finished she placed a napkin in her lap. With a tight smile she glanced at you, “Eat up while it’s still hot.”

You begin eating. The roast is succulent and tender and you find yourself eating faster than normal. After several bites you look up to see Art has not changed position, he continues to stare at the floor and not touched his food. After a moment he finally looks up and stares at his mother until he has her attention.

“What is it, Arthur?” She asks, both curious and aggrivated. He muttered wordlessly before making the outline of a building with his hands. He made the same motion earlier of writing in a notebook, carried a pretend backpack, and held his plate like a lunch tray. Art stared at her with a deep yearning in his eyes for what he was excitedly miming.

Nothing happened. The only sound was that of the clock ticking on the wall. You said nothing but kept looking between the mother and son as a stare down began between them. Art then wordlessly mouthed the word ‘school’, his fists clenched in determination.

“School? Sweetheart you’re already in school. You know you can’t go to regular school.” She gently stroked his cheek and he stared ahead, nostrils visibly flaring at her response. He slammed his fist on the table and pulled away from her, doing what he could to express how upset he was. You said nothing. You didn’t really know what to say, not yet.

“We’ve been over this before. I thought we were past this... Is that why you invited them over?” She looked to you questioningly, “Did you put him up to this?”

The absurdity of the question should be funny, but she’s serious. Her gaze is sharp and intense as it cuts through you. You push around the carrots on your plate for something to divert your attention. You can feel your heart begin to race. You knew confrontation was coming with this scheme but you didn’t expect to feel genuine fear.

“You put him up to this, didn’t you? You’ve been filling his head with all kinds of stories.”

“No ma’am...” You start, clearing your throat to still the nervous jitters, “I’m a student at the nearby middle school and they have an art program that I’m in that I think Art would love. I... I’m sure you’ve seen how talented he is…”

She sighs and rests her head in her hand in a ‘not this again’ gesture. Art had mentioned before how much his mother hated his desire to be an artist and his love for theatrics. She was waiting for him to outgrow it but he never did. If anything, his love for theater had increased over the years. She holds this pose for a dramatic moment before looking at Art with a tear in her eye, “Am I not good enough for you? Is that what this is about?”

He scooted away from her and eyed her warily, glancing over to you. He was saying something; he was trying to warn you. You grip your fork as she starts sniveling and dabs her eyes with a napkin, her mascara and eyeliner bleeding onto the white linen. You didn’t understand why she was crying, or what she was even upset about to begin with. You and Art exchange uncomfortable glances.

“So you just think you can use me for thirteen years and toss me to the side? Is that it?” She got close to his face, raising her voice, “Answer me Arthur! Is that what it is?!”

It was her turn to slam her fist down, and she did so hard that his water glass toppled over and spilled across the table. She ignored it, her gaze was entirely fixated on Art. He visibly gulped, his eyes wide as the gears in his head were turning. She looked furious, disgusted, betrayed. She didn’t look at him as her son, but as something else. Her reaction was... weird. Something about it made you deeply uncomfortable. It didn’t sit right.

“You’re going to leave me just like your father... You’re just like him... I’ve tried so hard and you’ve become just like him, so callous and cruel...” She gasped in a sob and turned away from him, pushing him roughly to distance herself further. With trembling hands, he rested his hand on her shoulder, awkwardly patting her. Though his motions were kind his eyes were distant. There was a look on his face you’d never seen someone have before and you didn’t know how to place it.

It was dreadful, apprehensive, resentful. It was an amalgamation of every wretched emotion you could think of. Simultaneously, his gaze was unfixed and blank as he stared straight ahead in silence, his motions mechanical. You understood this was a common practice and for a moment she was placated. Then in an instant she turned on you.

“I know this was all you! You’re the one who’s putting ideas in his head! YOU are the one trying to take him away from me! He’s known you three weeks and I’ve known him his entire life, and I will not stand by and have you take him away from me!”

You flounder. What are you supposed to say? What could you say to that? In a way, yes, that is what was going on, but Art needed some freedom. He couldn’t stay cooped up in the house with his mother, enduring her games until she finally died. That’s what you were afraid of for him. You sputter out, “I-I’m not I... I’m sorry I didn’t mean... that’s not what’s going on here!”

“Excuse me? Is that back talk I hear? Didn’t your mother teach you to have more respect than that?” She is exasperated, eyes wide with a manic rage. She raised her hand to backhand you and instinctively you cover your face, closing your eyes. You hear a visceral smack but no impact comes. Hesitantly, you lower your guard and peek from behind your hands. Art had stepped between the pair of you and took the hard smack to the face that was meant for you. He stabilizes and his mother is taken aback by his action, and seemingly as well as her own.

She stands there, jaw firm as she rests her hand on his shoulder. It isn’t a kind gesture, it is one of dominance and control. She is taller and stronger than him and she is asserting that in a silent, determined motion. You can tell by his stiff demeanor her grip is like a vice.

“So that’s how it is.” She scoffed and nodded, jaw clenched in anger as she exhaled hard through her nose, “Fine. You can ‘go to school’, you can do whatever you want. I give up. If that’s the way you want to play it then fine! But you’ll see that I’m right. All they’re going to do is laugh at you.”

She observed him in silence before looking over to you, “I think it’s time for you to go home.”

Inwardly you agreed but you didn’t want to leave, you didn’t like the way she was holding his shoulder with her nails dug into his shirt. She was gripping so hard her hand was shaking, her whole body was, with some sort of outrage with seemingly no source. Then without warning she started crying again, as though she’d suddenly become aware of her terrible deeds.

Her grip went slack and she wrapped her arms around Art, shushing and cooing at him as she stroked the red place on his cheek where she had hit him, “Mommy’s so sorry, Arthur. You know I just want the best for you. You know how much I worry about you…”

She is rocking with him slightly as she tries to soothe him. She then looks to you over his shoulder and tearfully adds, “I’m sorry dear, please see yourself out and get home safe.”

With hesitation, you turn to leave, the sound of his mother’s hushed whispers and sobs trailing after and following you out the door. You stand on the porch a moment and listen to the crickets and katydids chirp and chatter. Though your and Art’s plan had ended successfully, the entire exchange left you feeling anxious and queasy.

As you walk back to your house you can’t help but glance over your shoulder at the neighboring one. It was eerily silent and the lights had been turned out. You came to a stop and waited, observing the house as the streetlights came on. Art’s house had been swallowed in a darkness that even the bright, orange glow of the streetlights couldn’t penetrate.

Were they just sitting over there in darkness? Something wasn’t right. The house and interactions between he and his mother were strange, weird, and sort of creepy. There was something bad going on in that house, and now that Art would be joining you in school, you were going to find out.

#art the clown #terrifier #art the clown x reader #art the clown x you #my fics #angst #child abuse #verbal abuse #minors dni

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