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harmonyrae · 3 days ago

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Praedator [REDACTED]

Synopsis: Your constant escape attempts have become more than a nuisance. Turning to another praedator wasn't standard procedure, but they're out of options.

AN: This was written before playing the memory. This fic is just based on the alternate universe concept where Sylus is feral & unhinged. So, this is just raunchy, dirty fun. Happy Valentine's Day!

Content Warnings: violence, gore, blood, psychotic/psychosis, explicit language & sexual content, breath play, biting, implied unprotected sex, creampie, rough ROUGH sex, dom!Sylus, mentions of Sylus myth, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 5.9k

Now Playing:

Choke - Mobiius

Limits - Bad Omens

Circus Psycho - Diggy Graves

“I’ve got her! Level 23, she’s heading for the south stairwell! Go go go!”

The angry voice on the intercom screamed orders, it was too late to change direction. You dive through the heavy metal door. Your sweat slick hands barely hold onto the railing as you hurl yourself down the stairs. If you made it to level 14 you’d be farther than you’ve ever been before.

“Level four level four level four window break window jump window…”

Your incoherent rambling echoed through the stairwell. You could hear their boots on the stairs above you. You dared to look up the narrow opening between the stairs and felt a bullet graze your cheek. You fall backwards and tumble down the next flight of stairs. The dull ache was comforting, you’d learned to use pain to your advantage. Your bruises served as motivation, a roadmap for your failures, lessons learned.

A quick glance over your shoulder, a small blood trail trickled across the floor behind you. As you descend the stairs, you wipe your nose, blood pools in your hand. You had hit your head during the fall. Shit. You knew what would happen if they caught up to you.

As you approached Level 13, your lungs were burning, but your heart was hammering with excitement. So… damn… close…

“Gotcha!”

You slam into something solid. Before you can come to your senses and redirect, thick arms are wrapped around you. You thrash against them. Your jaw aches from how wide you stretch your mouth open, your screams nearly deafen the men surrounding you. Some cover their ears, some shrink back - fuckin newbies.

You latch onto the flesh in front of you, your teeth sinking in deep. The arms holding you let you go and you stumble, trying to grab onto the railing and pull yourself down the stairs. You could taste their blood, soured by radiation. Level 11 is right… there…

BANG

You felt a sharp jolt of electricity vibrate through your legs and then… nothing. Your face slams into the floor, your wrists ache and you can’t feel your legs. You try to turn over, but you can’t move. You try to move your legs, but they're just… not there… Fuck, they shot your spine out again. You groan as you slam your hands onto the floor, your voice hoarse from screaming came out as a pitiful broken whine.

A single set of boots circles you and comes to a stop in front of your face. You strain your eyes to look up at the figure looming over your bloodied and broken body, but all you see is the barrel of a gun. Blood leaks out of the corners of your mouth as it curves into a smile. A laugh erupts from your throat as the man pulls the trigger.

BANG

A group of four men dressed in tactical armor stand around a table, your body laid out and chained to a bed beside them. One of the men turns to face you, he leans back against the table and crosses his arms.

“235. She doesn’t know when to quit does she?”

“70 attempts in the last 2 weeks alone, how the fuck are we supposed to do anything else? We’re just chasing her around all damn day.”

A door opens and a man in a suit walks in, he’s more distinguished than the other men and it’s not just because of the suit. He walks past the men at the table and approaches the bed. He pulls back the sheet to look down at your still lifeless body. His finger traces the bullet hole on your forehead, a smile spreading across his lips as he watches it slowly close.

“I thought I told you not to shoot her unless it was absolutely necessary.”

The men at the table straighten and the one leaning takes a cautious step forward.

“She fell and hit her head, we don’t have the medical capabilities to treat a brain injury. It was easier to initiate a jump start.”

“What did you just say?”

All the men bristle and look down at the floor, letting their comrade struggle.

“We’ve just… we refer to it as a ‘jump start’ - I know it’s not official, we just don’t know what else to call it.”

The well-dressed man turns and stands toe to toe with the cowering soldier.

“She is more valuable than you will ever be. I expect her to be treated as such.”

“Yes sir. I’m sorry sir.”

The man nods, accepting the apology for the moment. He turns and puts on a clean pair of gloves. He picks up the tattoo gun and dips the needle into the already prepared ink cap. He returns to the bed and pulls the sheet completely away. Your body is still bruised and bloody, except for one of your legs. The distinct scent of alcohol fills the room as the man turns your leg to reveal a large patch of skin already covered in small tattoos.

The man leans over and presses the needle down onto your skin, next to the other markings. He draws a single dark line, as he dabs at your skin with a paper towel, his fingers graze over the other marks. Tally marks.

“I thought I made myself clear yesterday. Find a solution or I��ll replace your entire unit.”

The soldiers shrink back watching their leader stare at the floor. The man tosses the tattoo gun across the room and stalks over to take the man by the throat.

“Your plan, now, or your replacement starts today. After your body is finished burning.”

The man grabs at the burley hands around his throat. He gasps and stretches his feet, trying to reach the floor. He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Tartarus! Tartarus, she’ll go to Tartarus!”

The grip around his throat loosens and he is released. He falls to his knees and coughs, his hand rubbing his neck. He looks up and sees his boss tapping your knee with a small utensil, he watches your foot twitch. He tests the other knee and when he sees the same result he smiles.

“Why Tartarus?”

The soldier finally stands, he holds onto the table and keeps his eyes locked on your unconscious form. Your chest has started to rise and fall, your skin less pale than before.

“She’s not afraid of anything. She could be thrown out of a window and laugh when she hits the dirt. She expects immediate action, but Tartarus doesn’t act unless he knows he’ll get something out of it. If anything, he’ll distract her long enough for us to improve her holding cell.”

A suit jacket is draped over the back of a chair at the table and the man sits. He picks up the deck of cards from the center of the table, carefully shuffling them before sifting through them.

“And what do you think… Tartarus…”

He holds up a King of Hearts card.

“Will do when she…”

He holds up a Queen of Hearts card.

“...is tossed in his cage?”

A shaky hand grips the back of the chair across from him. The soldier sits, his elbows lean dig into the table as his hands rake through his damp hair.

“The others are an equal match for her, she’d have a chance at putting them down. Even Perses… she’d talk her way into his head.”

“What about Tamino? Hermit?”

“Tamino plays with his food. But I think she’d kick him once and he’d roll over. Hermit is touch starved. She could breathe on him and he’d wrap himself around her.”

“And Galen?”

“We’ve been giving him the medicine you gave us. He’d be the first to figure out her… gift. He’d probably peel her skin off to watch it grow back.”

“So Tartarus…”

��He’s patient, methodical… he’d love it if she tried to get in his head. And he wouldn’t hesitate to pin her down if it got physical.”

“What if he discovers her… what did you call it… her gift?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to test her limits?”

As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted it. He held his breath as the color drained from his skin. A cold hand reached across the table and tapped the King card.

“Then go on… give the king his queen.”

With that, the man stood, picked up his suit jacket and left the room. The men huddled in the corner approached the table, surrounding their superior who finally stood. He looked at you. He stalked over and slammed his hands down on the bed beside you. He growled, his anger boiling over as he collected himself and planned his next steps.

“Send her to Zia for a cleaning and new clothes. Then drop her in the cage. Notify me when it’s done. I’ll handle the… introduction.”

You see flashes of light, so bright your eyes burn. You hear the crashing of waves, loud and violent like a storm approaching. You smell bitter cold air, as if snow is just about to fall. You feel a jolt of electricity, your body damn near weightless, floating. And then a sharp pain to your heart, wind chilling your cheeks as you are pulled forward by an unseen force.

CLANK

Your eyes flutter open. The sound of chains against metal was too familiar. Too aggravating. You groan as you slowly lift your arms. You expected to feel their weight around your wrists, but you felt nothing. The dark ceiling above you was not the one you’d grown accustomed to. The scent, musk and spice, is not your own.

The crashing waves deafening you finally fade away and you hear the chains again, this time much closer than before. Your body moves on instinct, rolling over and squatting low. Your arms stretch out to the side and you feel the sting of cold metal bars behind you. These are not the bars you’re used to. They’re not smooth, jagged edges catch the leather of your gloves. You’re suddenly aware your clothes have been changed. You haven’t gotten a change of clothes in months. The cuts and bullet holes must have been too much of an eye sore for someone.

You blink rapidly, adjusting to the low lighting. Your muscles flex, testing your new clothes. The smooth fabric of the bodice was stretchy, enough for you to roll and jump without a problem. The leather harnesses would prove to either be an asset or a major pain in the ass, you’d figure it out later. The cut outs along your hips are wide, you slowly run a hand down and sure enough, Zia didn’t give you underwear again. You’d yell at her the next time you saw her, just because she liked to go commando doesn’t mean you did. Leather gloves covered your arms up to your bicep, a thick buckle connected them to the harness across your breasts. The same style buckles connect the thigh high stockings to the harness hooked around your waist. Knee high boots were tightly laced and the thick soles squeaked against the floor, fuck… they took your sneakin’ boots.

Lifting your hand to your face you feel the familiar metallic mask, the low hum of the invisible filter covering your mouth was somewhat comforting. Everytime they removed it, your head would ache and memories you couldn’t place would flood your mind. Jasmine flowers, blue fish, stars, apples… feathers…

“No no no no no not now…”

You whisper to yourself, shaking your head. Your loosely braided hair falls over your shoulder and brushes against something that makes you gasp. Your hand quickly circles your neck, a thick leather band is sewn into place. A metal hook sits at the back, you tug at the chain connected to it and growl.

“No… no no no…”

A loud screech sends you back down to your knees, your hands fly up to your ears.

“Don’t pull on it too hard, he won’t like that.”

Your eyes widen and you look up, scanning the edges of the room beyond the cage you’re in. A flash of light draws your attention and you spot the observation room. The windows of the room are thick, only one set of metal shutters are lifted and you see him - Everett. He’s been your tormentor, your assigned guard since you arrived at this godforsaken facility. He didn’t have his usual smirk… something’s off…

“Trust me, you don’t want to make him angry. Just look at the guy behind you.”

You glance over your shoulder through the bars. A faint outline of a man is hidden by shadows. A loud click rings out as a spot light illuminates where the figure lies. The sight before you sends you crawling away from the bars towards the center of the cage. It looks like the man… exploded… blood stains the floor and walls, bones lay scattered across the floor. Your chest tightens and your nails dig into the floor of the cage. You hear chains drag along the floor behind you and you freeze.

“Don’t worry, we finally figured out an Evol suppressor for him. He shouldn’t be able to do that again. Hopefully.”

You carefully turn over to sit on your knees. You steady yourself and stand slowly. The room is still too dark, the cage is much larger than you realized. You still can’t see who is responsible for the carnage.

“Now that he has a new toy, I think you’ll be a little too busy to try for attempt 236.”

You look up at Everett and bare your teeth, you dig your nails into your palm and feel the sting through your gloves. You’re tempted to lunge forward, but the chain connected to your collar sways behind you. You’re not sure how long your new leash is and what it’s connected to exactly. You glare at Everett, his eyes meet yours and his smirk finally returns.

“Don’t worry, I’ll check in. Every few days or so. Have fun.”

You scream as the metal shutter closes and Everett disappears. The spotlight shuts off and panels of lights along the baseboards flicker on. The white slowly darkens to a warm red tone, making the air feel heavy. You dive to the side of the cage, brace your back against the bars and pull your knees up to your chest. Wrapping the chain around your wrist twice and holding it in your hand, you were used to a fight, but who were you up against this time?

A deep rumbling laugh echoes through the room sending shivers down your spine. It was familiar and terrifying. You hold onto the bars as you crawl around the outside edge of the cage, dragging your chain leash behind you.

“You look like a kitten crawling around like that…”

A raspy voice from deep within the shadows rings out. You wince, that voice… It's like a knife cutting through your flesh. But why?

“And what are you? The fucking boogie man? Hiding in the shadows like a pussy?”

That laugh… He’s laughing at you. You grit your teeth and carefully stand up, staying close to the edge of the cage. The floor vibrates as chains drag, your grip tightens around the bar, ripping through the fabric of your glove.

“Oh I like you…”

A subtle tug on the chain in your hand makes your knees shake. You have nothing to be afraid of, you’re fucking immortal, this prick can get fucked. So why was your heart racing? Your cheeks burning? A fresh surge of rage washes over you, you fling the chain around your wrist a third time before giving it a harsh tug. A grunt and clatter from deep within the shadows confirms your suspicions… you’re chained to each other.

“Kitten wants to play hmm…”

You widen your stance, bringing your fists up.

“Bring it on bitch!”

But instead of being forced forward or a beast lunging at you from the shadows, you hear steady footsteps approaching you. A figure appears between the line of shadow and light, he’s tall, much taller than you. And he’s wide, his well built shoulders taper down to a slim waist and hips. A boot crosses into the light, your eyes trail up the set of long legs and your breath catches in your throat as you take in his toned torso.

“Fuck…”

“Like what you see, kitten?”

You thought you were whispering, but apparently not. You grimace, irritated by your body's reaction. That waist looked even more delicious with the hips of his pants digging into him. Chains drape along his hips and up the center of his torso. A thick strap crosses the center of his chest, holding the sleeve of his barely there jacket in place. The other sleeve was just straps of leather wound around his massive bicep and forearm. He had the same apparatus secured to his face, but on him, it looked more like a muzzle than a filtered mask. His shaggy silver hair hung down to his shoulders, short strands swept across his forehead. Then you saw them… his eyes. The chain didn’t need to pull you, just his gaze had you taking a step forward.

“Oh you do…”

His condescending tone brought you back to reality, your jaw ached from your teeth grinding.

“Fuck you.”

His eyes widen, and there’s that all too familiar glare - the one you’ve seen in the mirror. His arm flies backwards and the chain around your wrist is yanked forward. You stumble and hold onto the bar behind you, your shoulder pops loudly and you scream. Unable to hold on, you let go of the bar and shift to hold onto the chain, pulling back with all your strength. You see his arms jolt upwards and he grunts. You glance up at the ceiling of the cage and spot a hook with multiple chains secured to it.

He takes another step toward you and you know you have seconds to act before he pounces. Leverage. You need leverage. You whip the chain against the floor and it glides through the air like a wave, hitting the man in the face. He stumbles backwards and you seize the opportunity.

You sprint to the edge of the cage and wrap the chain around two bars. You take two steps back and drag the loop you’ve created through the bars. You loop the chain around your left wrist as many times as you can before turning and running directly towards the man. His gaze finds yours and his wicked smile falters. You hear the chain clanging against the hook and then the man is thrown forward. He loses his balance and falls, his knees hit the ground as his arms fly into the air above his head. You turn and lean back, when you glance over your shoulder, he is standing, his arms still held above his head.

“Oh I’m going to enjoy this, sweetie. Show me what you’ve got.”

You expect him to fight back, to tug at the chain and send you flying into the air, but he doesn’t. He occasionally struggles against them, but never enough to move you. He stares at you, he tilts his head and you see his nostrils flair. You watch his pupils dilate and he bites his lip.

“Your smell… hmm… If you don’t hurry sweetie…”

You squeeze your thighs together, not to strengthen your stance, but rather to try to stop your arousal from leaking down your legs. He can smell how turned on you are? Fuck Zia for not giving your underwear… fuck… You can’t wrap your head around why your body was reacting this way. But with every glance over your shoulder, you could tell this beast of a man was experiencing something similar. You take the risk and stand up straight, still holding the chain tightly to keep his hands raised. Approaching him slowly, you side step and let your eyes fall down his body.

You knew you had tattoos, used to keep track of not only your escape attempts - your entire back covered with tally marks, with no room left they had to move to your legs - but also to keep track of the tests they ran. Similar tattoos adorned his body, you could make a few guesses to their meaning. The roman numerals were most likely his admission date, just like the barcode was for guards to pull up his profile. You wondered what his code name was, did he get something stupid under the guise that it was “symbolic” or did his name suffice. What is his name? Should you ask?

As you circle behind him, he glances over his shoulder at you. His eyes shine and you’re tempted to take a step closer.

“My name’s Sylus, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask.”

He chuckles and turns, his side profile bathed in a warm red glow. You meet his glare and pull on the chain. He lurches forward but maintains eye contact. His name… you know him… don’t you? But how? No no no… It’s the radiation again… has to be has to be has to be…

“Tick tock…”

His voice disrupts your thoughts. You wince and dare to step closer.

“What…?”

“Tick… tock…”

His tone is teasing, but his eyes are hungry. His eyes… his eyes… red… red… red… As if reading your mind, he turns to face you fully. His eyes shine and he leans down to your level. His right eye twitches and he blinks. It doesn’t stop the twitching, his face twists as if he’s in pain. He yanks the chain down and you fall backward. You hit the floor and lose your grip on the chain. As you scramble to wrap the slack around your wrist, you look back and see Sylus holding his head in his hands.

“Sorceress…”

You drop the chain. Sorceress... His voice is quiet… far away… strained… You sit back, your hands behind you on the floor. You try to inch your way backwards, but the pain behind your eyes becomes too strong. You can’t look away from Sylus, his muscles straining against the chains, sweat dripping down his chest, his hands taking fistfulls of hair. And then… he looks up at you.

And all you see is red red red red red red red red…

Sylus’s eye was glowing, streams of red and black mist flowing out of corners and down his face, around his neck, down his arms, around the chain and towards the ceiling. Your chest rises and falls faster and faster. His presence becomes all-encompassing, he’s in your head, feeling his way around, digging through your memories. Before you realize what you’re doing, you’ve ripped the mask off your face. Your chest burns as the air around you thickens, it’s as if the radiation washes over you for the first time.

“Sylus…”

It’s like your voice is not your own. Something ancient awakens. Your desire burns hotter.

SNAP

The chain shatters, disappearing into the red and black mist. Sylus’s eye stops glowing and he lunges at you. Your mind is muddy, but your instincts are still sharp. You roll to the side just as Sylus reaches you. You dig your toes into the floor and push off, rushing forward - to where, you have no fucking clue…

CRACK

The chain around your wrists force you back. You turn and grab the chain, but your hands are shaking. Another yank and you are falling again. You tuck and roll and try to regain your footing. You look up and Sylus stretches the chain between his hands. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, he slowly stalks toward you, like he’s hunting.

“Sylus?”

Again, your voice surprises you. Images flood your mind, your head so full you’re convinced you’ll burst. A gold lamp with a tiny dragon… A glowing sword… Horns…

A loud growl breaks the silence and you look up to see Sylus right in front of you. You turn around, but realize you’re backed into a corner, you’re trapped. Sylus’s arm wraps around your neck, his chest pressed against your back. And of course now you realize your bodice is backless, his hard abdomen against your bare back sends a new jolt to your clit and you moan.

You feel Sylus’ smile as he presses his mouth into the crook of your neck. His other hand traces your side and reaches around to hold your hip, he grips your firmly and holds you against him. You feel how hard he is and let out another breathy whimper. Ever since arriving at this facility you’ve been emotionless, yet being with him for less than 10 minutes has you falling apart?

“You’re not allowed to fly away…”

He flexes his bicep against your neck and you lean your head back to get more air. He presses his lips to your temple, his voice gentle compared to his damn near suffocating grip.

“My little bird…”

He takes a deep breath and his chest vibrates against you as he groans. He dips his head down and licks the side of your face. Blame it on the increased radiation from not wearing your mask, you’re done playing it safe. You want nothing more than to be reckless and fucking messy. You roll your hips and reach a hand back to grip onto Sylus’s hair. His moan in your ear sends you into a frenzy. You sink your teeth into his forearm - his blood isn’t bitter… it’s sweet… it’s rich…

The sound he makes is anything but human and when you lick over the wound you created he growls again. He spins you around and grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head as he backs you against the bars of his cage. He leans in and uses his other hand to grip your face, his fingers dig into your cheeks and you smile. This kind of pain was making you delirious.

“Last chance sweetie… fight back or surrender.”

He loosens his grip on your face and wraps his hand around your neck, letting his thumb graze your pulse point. Your heart flutters when you see his quick glance down to your lips.

“My dragon…”

You’re not sure why you said it, but you don’t stop yourself from repeating it over and over. His eyes hold an emotion you can’t quite place. It’s quickly replaced with a fire you’re familiar with. The desire to conquer, to devour.

“I surrender…”

Sylus covers your mouth with his, nipping at your bottom lip almost immediately demanding to be let in. You open your mouth and he sinks his tongue inside, your tongues fight against each other as his hand travels down to your body. You may have surrendered, but you wouldn’t back down from this particular battle. You wanted to hear him moan, to feel him writhe, to make him just as much yours as you’d be his.

You feel the chains around your wrist snap and hear them clatter to the floor. Sylus’s hands grab onto your harness and he tears his lips away to lift you. He throws you up into the air and lets go of your harness to grab your waist. You yelp as he backs you against the bars again, your legs forced to wrap around his waist. Before he can even recapture your lips, you roll your hips and rub yourself against his abs. He glares at you and you grab his hair tugging his head back roughly. Your lips meet his neck and he groans. You suck the skin over his Adam's apple before biting gently.

He steps back and drops you to your feet suddenly. He takes hold of your harness again and the straps dissolve into a red and black mist, just like the chains. He pulls your gloves off in one smooth motion, tossing them behind him. He sinks his fingers into the front of your bodice and…

RIP

He tears the bodice completely. You shiver as the cold air hits your tits and soaked cunt. The chill doesn’t last long, Sylus spins you around again and presses his warm body against yours. His hands wrap around you and he cups your breast, rolling your peaked nipple before pinching it. His other hand dips down and digs his fingers in to find your clit. He spreads you open and rolls his finger over the sensitive bud of nerves directly. Your body seizes and he releases your breast to wrap around your waist. You reach back to try and rub his cock through his pants and he nips at your ear.

“Do you really think you’ve earned that?”

He lunges forward and your bare torso is pushed against the bars of his cage. He doesn’t hesitate to sink his fingers into your weeping cunt. Your pussy sucks in his digits greedily, your walls pulse around them in an instant. You whine and try to pull your hips back, but he shoves his hips forward to keep yours in place. His fingers work their way in and out, the lewd sounds of your cunt drive you closer to the edge. He tilts your head to the side so he can place sloppy kisses to your neck.

“Your cunt is so… greedy…”

His whispers, his fingers, his chest against your back, his scent, his everything… You gasp for air, the angle of your neck and the relentless scissoring of Sylus’s fingers has you coming embarrassingly fast. As your release drips over Sylus’s hand and down your thighs you hear him groan.

“Did I say you could do that? Bad girl…”

He gives your pussy a slap and your legs tremble. You lean your head back against his shoulder and his arm is around your neck once more. He drags you backward and pushes you down onto your knees. He kneels behind you and lifts his hand to your mouth, tapping your lips, a silent command to open. You obey and he sticks his fingers in for you to clean, he moans as he feels your tongue lap up every ounce of your own release.

“Down.”

His command is accompanied with his hand splayed on your upper back, he pushes you down and you rest your chest on the floor. He grabs onto your hips and tugs them upwards. Your chest against the cold floor, your slick cunt spread for him, your mind is finally clear - no more flashes of memories or pain. The only thing that exists right now is Sylus. You hear the clicks of buckles and then Sylus’s jacket is tossed to the floor in front of you. You try to push yourself up to look over your shoulder, desperate to see his body. His hand returns to your upper back and pushes you back down.

“Hands.”

You put your hands behind your back and he holds your wrists to your lower back with one hand. You feel his cock rub against your dripping cunt and can’t hold back.

“Sylus please please please… fuck…”

Another slap to your pussy makes you growl, the frustration becoming almost more than you could handle. Just as you’re about to start pushing your hips back you feel his tip circle your tight cunt. He pushes himself into you slowly, savoring every pulse and clench. When he bottoms out, he pauses for a moment, letting you adjust and breathe. But as soon as you breathe in, the air is pushed back out. His hips retreat and snap forward, Sylus roars as he slams into you over and over. One hand holding your wrists, the other latched onto your hip to keep you in place. He hits your g-spot with every thrust and your second orgasm is close… so damn close. But you know you have to wait for Sylus to give you permission this time, or he might stop altogether.

“I need to… I need ohhh…”

“Not yet. Don’t…”

His rushed words prove he is just as undone as you are. He releases your wrists and leans down to wrap his arm around your neck again. Your body hums as he takes control and holds you closer. His other hand slams down onto the ground beside yours. You feel his chest heave and his hips slow as he adjusts you both to the new position. He rolls his hips, grinding against you, hitting that perfectly little spot that makes you see stars. He begins thrusting harder, his movements more panicked than before. His voice trembles as he mumbles in your ear.

“Not…”

Thrust

“...allowed…”

Thrust

“... to fly…”

Thrust

“...away…”

His hips stall as his climax washes over him. A deep rumble shakes his chest - somewhere between a growl and a moan. You’re so fucking full… full of his cock, his cum… He overwhelms your senses, your tender pussy flutters as it milks his cock of every last drop. You grab onto his forearm and dig your fingernails into his skin.

“Sylus… I can’t hold on please please…”

He sits back on his heels, bringing you with him. He barely has to move, you’re so overstimulated just the pressure alone is enough to send you over. You start rolling your hips, lifting yourself to feel the drag of his swollen tip. You close your eyes and lean your head back, finding your rhythm. His hand travels up to your breasts and he squeezes and pinches until you’re a whimpering mess. His bicep flexes and your limited air supply is cut off for a moment.

“My little bird is so sensitive… So… needy…”

Your remaining willpower crumbles and you moan as loud as you can, squeezing your thighs together to trap him inside you. He lets out a feral groan and loosens his grip around your neck, he grabs your face and twists your neck so he can lock his lips with yours. He doesn’t pull back, both of you writhe against each other fighting for space to breathe. He finally concedes and pauses to mumble into your mouth.

“Come for me come for me now…”

You moan his name over and over as you squirt all over his cock, his thighs, his abdomen… He rolls your clit between his fingers and smiles against your lips as he feels the warm rush. As you start to calm down, he wraps both arms around your stomach, keeping you perched on your knees, his cock buried inside you. You rest your head on his shoulder and he kisses the crown of your head.

“Sweetie…?”

His voice is soft, so different from how he spoke just moments ago. You turn your head and look at him, his pupils have returned to normal and his brow is furrowed. His hands gently lower to your hips and he presses his forehead against your shoulder.

“You… remember…?”

He sounds broken… afraid. You lift yourself off of him and turn to face him. Your hands cup his cheeks and you force him to look at you. The fear in his eyes fades as he looks at you. All the images, the field of flowers, the dark church, the piles of gold… They’re not images, they’re memories.

“I remember. I remember all of it.”

You kiss his forehead and he lets out a deep sigh. You wrap your arms around his neck.

“I can’t stand seeing you in this cage Sy…”

He pulls you closer and kisses your cheek.

“Then let’s get out of here, shall we? This’ll be number 236, right?”

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@silverbrain

@m00nchildwrites

@plsdonttakemyname

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enchantedbat · 2 months ago

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Let’s talk potential: the specialists.

Why isn’t the potential of the boys explored and they go different routes? Surely, the Red Fountain doesn’t teach each the same and produces what we have now? Why are they different but end up doing mainly the same? The Specialists are not all the same guy with the same skills and aspirations. Let’s talk about some ideas I had.

Timmy. He is a technician, an inventor and a scientist. Among his skills are providing new technology, knowing enough about weaponry to easily build it and planning strategies for even the trickiest of situations. Mainly uses long-ranged weapons.

While appreciative of magic and impressed by the instincts of the others, he is going with logic and technology. He is responsible for upgrading but is also a walking arsenal. A multi-tool able to be easily transformed into a weapon of choice.

Timmy usually mans the aircrafts or uses higher grounds to attack. He knows his weaknesses and has created a battlesuit, similar to D.va, Iron Man or the Brotherhood of Steel armors.

Carries his multi-tool, a drone, a ranged weapon that can go from bow to rifle, special glasses to scan surrounding and a watch that activates his battlesuit.

Brandon. From the beginning, we know that he is a squire. His goal is to be a knight. One day, perhaps even the champion of Eraklyon (or Solaria?). His path started at the age of 7 where he was made a page in the court of Eraklyon. He was quite promising leading to him being trained by the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Together with Sky, of course. At 14, he graduated to being a squire. His good grades, extraordinary skills and close relationship to Sky got him a place at Red Fountain. A man made for the battlefield, Brandon seeks to be an elite soldier.

To win against every opponent and be prepared no matter what, he possesses a basic degree of familiarity with all weapons and fighting styles. However, he concentrates and specializes on one weapon as well as mastering one combat technique to perfection - staying loyal to his phantoblade and sticking with swords.

While Brandon himself has no issues with magic, he had the goal to be a Knight of Eraklyon which means he uses non-magical weapons. (Perhaps Radius or Luna give him a legendary sword of Solaria with the power of the sun, stars and moon as an engagement gift) He is physically the strongest of the specialists (berserker-like strength) and resilient to certain kinds of magic using the force of his body.

Sky. He is a future king. Therefore, he is taught the basic fighting skills and such, but the main focus of his curriculum is diplomacy and strategy. One day, he will be the highest commander of military and security in his land solely by being the leader of said country. Knows the strength of the boys inside and out. Versatile but not as powerful as the others. Regularly training how to handle situations such as kidnappings or assassinations attempts. He can’t be as strong as the boys, he missed out a lot of training due to his classes on Eraklyon and state visits.

Sky is not useless. He is meant to lead this group and that’s what he does. Not by running first into action but knowing who is able to do what and when. Of course, he can defend himself but his girlfriend is literally the strongest fairy known and he is surrounded by the best of the best. Besides his sword, he has his hoverboard, his shield and his boomerang.

Riven. A survivor who had to rely on being cunning and stealthy. Who analyzes the vulnerabilities of his enemies to hit them hard and hides his own well because of that. But he also adepts fast to his surroundings. Maybe not one with nature but knowledgeable enough to hide himself and find others. With the help of Nabu, he finds himself positively connected to magic and knows that it is the magic user, not the power itself. That said, Riven uses magical weapons. He prioritizes subtleness and rather strikes once but hard. Keeps using a scimitar, but has a bunch of daggers hidden. His belt is full of smoke bombs, his bolas, toxins and even some explosives (like Batman). Interpret it however you want, but he mainly uses shadow-based and darkness-based magical weapons. That makes him a tiny bit proficient in this type of magic.

While Brandon knows the most fighting techniques, Riven has a broad range of skills. Picking locks, climbing, disarming traps, improvising weapons, detecting traps, becoming one with the shadows, tracking beings and such.

Helia. Related to one of the greatest wizards, Helia has a strong connection to magic. He also spends a lot of time with himself and mediating. The harmony between his body and mind helps him channeling his magic into attacks and more importantly: defense techniques. He stays true to himself and will always choose defending himself and others above attacking. That includes restraining and disarming enemies. Helia is trained in all martial arts and only has basic knowledge of weapons. Replacing his glove with a magical rope which is like the lasso of truth (Wonder Woman) but also a dart rope and a whip of sorts, because it can sense his intentions and emotions transforming into what he needs. Furthermore, his knowledge of the energy in his own body helps him to strike beings in the most powerful way like Ty Lee’s Chi-blocking (Avatar). Hitting the right weak point of a magical being can block their magic for a while or stop spells/attacks/whatsoever.

Nabu. He is alive and well.

Like fairies and witches, wizards share a scholarly approach to magic. Depending what path they choose, they can focus on their own affinity or master as many spells as possible, that’s what Nabu does. Reading about abilities, he can practice them and later use them. Some are connected to artifacts, books or scrolls. While his staff amplifies his natural power, it can also help channel his magic.

Simply said: He can do almost anything. However, he often needs a source for it. Nabu’s powers are illusion-based, which means the source for those abilities is literally him. If he wants to use a spell of another element, he has to find a magical source of it. Funnily enough, the Winx count. Often in fights, he will grab Bloom’s shoulder and scream “Fireball!”. His staff is a source too but I haven’t decided what type of power it carries - this needs continuation (and he needs a revival).

Specialists. They have their own dragons still but I would like them to have different dragons. We only see them with their own dragons at Red Fountain and I would like them to have these as practice and later tame their own - which should be different types! It doesn't need to be a dragon. It could be a griffin or even a hydra! It could differentiate specialists between magic and technology user.

(if you think, they are all very similar to DND classes: that’s what I based it on. Timmy is an artificer, Brandon is a fighter, Riven is a rogue/ranger, Helia is a monk and Nabu is still a wizard. Sky exists? I am sorry, Sky-fans. He is a king at least?)

#winx club #winx specialists #winx timmy #winx brandon #winx sky #winx riven #winx helia #winx nabu #winx shitposting #winx headcanons?#winx rewrite

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sinnabarmoth · 1 month ago

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Tribute for the Dragon (18/18)

(A/N: Just a quick thanks for all the love you guys have shown this fic! Means a lot! Love ya!)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: A happily ever after with your dragon.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Child birth.

Length: 2k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17)

Read on AO3

The flight back to your kingdom was long and Sylus did not stop until you across the border. At that point you had told him to land near a stream. He didn’t question why, just dropped down as soon as he spotted some water.

“Are you alright?” he asked for the tenth time. “Do you need a rest? Something to drink? Eat?”

“No. I am fine.” you looked at him now, still covered head to toe in copious amounts of blood. It soaked into his hair and his skin. Every inch of him was died the same crimson as his eyes. “But you need to clean that off.”

Sylus looked down at himself and nodded. You gestured to the stream and he started washing the blood away. You tore off a piece of your skirt hem and dunked it into the water and wiped at his face.

You remembered being sat in the room underground when you heard the bells and alarms ringing. You had know immediately it was Sylus. The unending screams of pain and fear only confirmed it. Then that fucking general had come in to try and take you away, to try and threaten Sylus into letting him live, but his efforts were in vain. They had all died. Sylus ripped every last one of them to shreds just to get back to you.

You had been surprised for a moment when instead of the Sylus you knew a full dragon had busted in through the door. But you knew it was your dragon the second you saw him. He was large, black and red scaled armor with silver horns and spines down his back. His eyes were the same kind of molten red you had seen from Tengya on the beach, as if instead of eyes two pools of magma churned in his pupils. And all that you could think of was how happy you were to see him.

He was back to his normal form now, albeit completely naked, but that hardly mattered. Soon you would be home and all of this would be nothing but a horrible nightmare. You couldn’t wait that long to get this blood off though. So you helped him clean, wiping whatever blood you could off of him. Scooping water into your hands and scrubbing it out of his hair until it was silver again.

He reclined against you, staring up at your face. “I am so sorry.” he said. “I should never have left. They never should have been able to take you. This was all my fault.”

“No. It was not your fault, Sylus.”

“I left you. I left you all alone. I should have taken you to the village at the very least. I was insane to leave you by yourself.”

“Sylus--”

“What if they had hurt you worse than they did? What if they had done something to our child? I would never forgive myself. If…if the worse had happened…” tears cut rivers down his cheeks, “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Then don’t.” you hugged him. “I am safe. Our baby is safe. What is done is done. We cannot change it. But you ensured that no one would ever come to harm us again and that is good enough for me.”

“I love you. I do.” he turned to face you fully, “I love you more than anything and I swear this will never happen again. I will defend you, body and soul with everything that I am.”

“Sylus…”

“You, the family we are growing, is my entire life. I love you both so much and I do not know what forces in the world allowed me to have you but I will thank them every day.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too. I will love you forever and no matter what happens, I will always be here by your side. No force from the heavens, hells or this material world will take me from you. I promise.” You brought him close, kissing him tenderly. “I love you, Sylus. I will always love you.”

You sat there by the stream, half covered in blood and crying as you held one another. You were safe. You were together. That was all that mattered.

~~~

Sylus was anxious. He didn’t get anxious a lot but he was anxious as he stood pacing back and forth outside the room you were giving birth in. The women helping you had insisted it wasn’t a place for the men to enter and Sylus wanted to be respectful but with every pained cry that came from you on the other side of the door his agitation grew.

“You’re going to drive a rut into the floor.” your father warned him. “She’s in good hands. She and the baby will be fine.”

“I should be in there.” Sylus snapped. “Why can I not be?”

“Well, for one, your tail hasn’t stopped swishing like an angry cat’s. You’d probably hit someone or knock something over.” he explained, “But it is just how things are done. The women handle the birth, we cut the umbilical cord after they’re out.”

Every instinct in Sylus was telling him to get in the room. He needed to protect you. Protect you from what, he had no idea. But he felt so helpless and useless out here!

There was another loud cry from inside and Sylus snapped to the door. That was it! He wasn’t staying out here!

He opened the door to find you knelt on the floor. You looked up and smiled in relief, holding a hand out for him. “Sylus,”

He knelt next to you, “Right here. I’m right here.”

“He shouldn’t be--” one of the women tried to say.

“No! Don’t leave!” you squeezed his hand, “Please don’t leave!”

“I won’t. I’m not going anywhere.” Sylus shot a glare at the others, daring them to try and remove him. The others shrugged and went back to what they were doing.

“It hurts.” you muttered through clenched teeth. “It really fucking hurts!”

“I know. I know it does, little bird.” he wiped the sweat from your brow. “But it’ll be worth it. We’ll have our little one soon, you just have to endure it for a little longer.”

“Can’t believe I let you do this to me!” you snapped. “I hope you never have another rut!” He figured you were talking out of pain and didn’t mean what you were saying.

One of the women got behind you. “Alright, you’re ready. Time to start pushing. Deep breath, your body knows what to do. Gravity is gonna help us get this baby out quick.”

After several long tense minutes of you holding onto him for dear life, screaming and whimpering in pain as you pushed, the baby was out. A different kind of scream filled the air as your child took its first breath.

“You have a daughter.” the woman holding the baby said. “A perfectly healthy baby girl.”

Sylus cut the umbilical cord with his claw and let them wipe the baby off a bit before settling her in your arms. “She’s beautiful.” you were crying. The moment the baby’s head rested on your chest her cries stilled into little whimpers.

“Most gorgeous things I’ve ever seen.” Sylus couldn’t believe what he was looking at. This tiny thing was yours? They looked so normal, so human. “Hello, my heart,” he said. He receded the claws on his hands so he could hold her. “If you aren’t the most perfect thing in this world I do not want to know what could be better.”

“She is so little…” you cooed. “And she looks so human.”

“I told you she would. But make no mistake, this is a strong and fearsome dragon. That reminds me,” Sylus pulled a small jar out of his pocket. Inside was a small portion of the salve he had gotten from Tengya. He spread a small patch on the baby’s chest.

Once you had enough time alone, just Sylus, you, and the baby you began to let in the others.

“There’s my grandchild.” your father walked in. He came over and kissed your forehead. “You did so well, sweet pea.”

“Thanks papa.” you smiled. “Isn’t she the most precious thing?”

“That she is. So, did you two have a name picked out?” he asked.

“Selene.” you said. Your baby opened her eyes for the first time and you got a shock of brilliant red eyes, just like her father. You smiled, kissing her downy head. “Our little moon flower.”

~~~

As the years passed your family grew. You had two beautiful little girls and a third on the way. You were sitting at the mouth of the cave watching as Sylus was teaching Selene how to fly. Her wings had grown in fully and ever since there was not a moment she was on the ground. Your younger was sitting with you stewing in jealousy that she couldn’t go flying with them.

“Mama!” Ruby whined, “I want to go flying too! When will my wings grow in?”

“It will happen soon enough.” you assured her, “Besides, growing wings isn’t great. It’s really itchy and your back gets all scabby. Kinda like your horns did when they started growing, remember that? Don’t be in such a hurry.”

She crossed her arms and continued to pout until Sylus and Selene touched back down. “Did you see me mama!” Selene came running up to you. “I was flying all by myself!”

“I know! You did so well, sweetie!” you hugged her. “You’re getting to be real good.”

“She’s a natural.” Sylus came up and ruffled her hair. “Soon enough you’ll be flying circles around me.”

“Daddy!” your younger one yelled at him, “I want to fly too!”

“Ruby,” you warned, “Don’t yell. Ask nicely next time you want to go flying.”

Her frown deepened. “Mama’s a meanie!”

“I’m not being mean--”

“Meanie!”

“Hey,” Sylus snapped at her. “That’s not very nice to say. Your mama is just trying to teach you to be polite and now you’ve gone and hurt her feelings.”

“But--”

“No buts. Apologize to your mama and maybe I’ll take you out for a flight.” Sylus turned her around and pushed her towards you.

“I’m sorry mama.” she said, staring down at the ground. “Can I go flying now?”

“I forgive you, sweetie. But dinner should be finished cooking soon so maybe after you eat.”

“Oh, I think we have time for a quick flight around the mountain.” Sylus picked her up and put her on his shoulders.

“Sylus--”

Before you could object he jumped off the side of the mountain and flew up high, your daughter roaring with joyous laughter the entire time. You looked over at Selene who watched them with burning jealousy. You sighed. “Go on. Make sure your father and sister don’t stay out too long. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

“Will do mama!” Selene beamed and flew to join the others, albeit it a little slower and more awkwardly. She was getting there though.

You pulled yourself out of your chair and wandered back to the kitchen to check on the food. It was hard to believe it some days. Waking up with Sylus next to you, the girls running in to see you the moment they woke up.

It was hard to get alone time with those two tornadoes running around but there were days you sent them down to the village to stay with your father or their Auntie Tara. They were so full of life and joy. You couldn’t wait to have another even if you knew three of these little monsters was going to be exhausting.

Much like Sylus had said when you were pregnant with Selene, the girls were born looking exactly like humans but as they got older more dragon like features started to grow. Selene had horns and wings and her father’s bright red eyes, but so far no claws. Ruby though almost immediately started sprouting a tail which Selene didn’t have and was starting to grow in her horns. She wouldn’t have to worry about wings for about two more years, if she grew them at all.

You traced a hand over your stomach. You wondered what this one would be like. Maybe it’d be a boy this time.

A few minutes later Sylus and the girls came running back in, their faces windstung and bright. The girls immediately went to setting the table and Sylus walked over to you, hugging you from behind. “Smells good.” he said.

“Thanks. I decided to try this new recipe Tara gave me.” you gave the pot another stir.

“Wasn’t talking about the food.” he whispered before pulling your face towards his for a kiss.

“Ew! Daddy! Stop that!” Selene said. “You’re being gross!”

“I’m showing your mother how much I love her. What’s gross about that?” he shot back. “You two go clean up before you start eating.”

The girls ran out of the room leaving you alone. “Very subtle.” you elbowed him lightly. “I’m already pregnant, you can’t put another kid in me yet.”

“I know. But it is never a waste to practice.” his hands ran over the bump in your belly. “Just six more of these to go.”

“One more!” you elbowed him harder this time. “I have told you a hundred times I’m not popping out nine kids.”

“I can’t help it.” he spun you around, “You know how dragons like to hoard treasure.”

“Our kids are treasure now?”

He smiled softly, holding you close. “Of course. The most precious in the world, right next to you.”

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads mc #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #dragon sylus #lads dragon au

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 1 year ago

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Halloween prompts year 2 day 28

Thomas stared down at Bruce-no- Danny as he led him by the hand toward what he had dubbed as his "Secret Lair" which was just an old fall out shelter in the woods that had been well hidden and forgotten about. The door to it was old and still buried under years of dirt and plant growth, requiring Danny to phase them into it which made Thomas wonder how his grandson had found it in the first place.

Inside was surprisingly high tech. "You have a secret lair filled with all this equipment but don't have any weapons or armor?" Thomas asked, making mental preparations to fix that.

Danny sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and explained his only allies were two other 14 year olds who were also untrained, unarmed, unarmored, and unsuper-powered which would explain why Danny was so excited to be working with an adult vigilante who at least knew what they were doing.

The kid didn't even mind when some of his more evil or harmful rogues "stopped showing up" thankfully no one would really question the reclusive Vlad Masters "going back to Wisconsin" only to never be seen again. No one saw much of him before coming to Amity Park, it made since he would become a hermit again once he had his fill of human interaction.

And if hes later found dead in his cheese castle? Well, the body had decomposed too much to really say what killed him. His will left everything to a Daniel James Fenton/Daniel James Masters which visibly infuriated Danny. Thomas mentally patted himself on the back. It was a good call to get rid of that one. The will was a surprise, though one that can only benefit Thomas in his crusade of protecting his grandson. Its not like he can return to a timeline that no longer exists anyway.

Unfortunately this doesn't stop the bats from hearing about "Batman" operating in a city in Illinois for the past few months...

#halloween prompts #dpxdc #thomas wayne #batman #thomas wayne as batman #phantom is being the Robin to Thomas Waynes Batman and its a blend of happy fluff and broody angst #danny phantom #danny fenton #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny knows about the killings but is willing to turn a blind eye so long as it doesnt go too far or become unreasonable #skulker and vlad both kinda deserve it tbh #skulker is a self proclaimed serial killer who sometimes skins his victims alive...kinda and you cant tell me Vlad who has canonically #kidnapped tortured expirimented on ect on danny hasnt done this before when he seems so comfortable and familiar with doing it #thomas will not speak about of the things he saw at vlads mansions and secret hideouts #lets just say there was a lot of book burnings #imagine when the batfam learn about this #damian: You have our grandfather >:(#danny: you have out dad* catmom* knifemom* all our siblings* AND alfred. i get to keep gramps!#danny: *hugs grampa batman protectively*

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thedexcat · 5 months ago

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VotV Speculation Megapost

(For posterity's sake, the latest major release is 0.8) (Also, buckle in. This post is a long one.) (Edit 9/20/24: Added Addendum 1) (Edit 10/14/24: Added Addendum 2) It should be extremely obvious, but spoilers ahead.

As we all know, Voices of the Void has a "story breadcrumbs" approach to its plot. Combine that with its alpha status, and we're left with a lack of hard answers. However, some pieces did seem to click into place. This is far from anything definitive, but here are some of the conclusions I've drawn. Let's start with everybody's favorite:

Part 1: The Arirals

god i want one to hold me like that

You know em. You love em. Like 90% of the fanart is about them. But the question is... what the hell are they doing here? Judging by the fact that they construct a campsite in the facility, they clearly expect to be here for a while. A common interpretation I hear from people is that the ones out in the facility are either political refugees, or just some sort of benign "tourist group". I've personally come to a different conclusion. Let's consider what they brought with them.

Exhibit A: The weapon (left)

The weapon they drop around Day 24 is no mere Star Trek phaser. If you drop it in the main building, pretty much EVERYTHING in the building is going to be sent flying from the resulting blast. Not only that, but the "human-wieldable" version that can be unlocked for the sandbox mode has one hell of a fire rate. Something tells me that there's no way in hell this thing is a civilian-grade weapon. And, as established in a previous post of mine, they're kitted out in full-body armored stealth suits.

Exhibit B: The stealth suit (Kerf dutifully remains there for scale)

These aren't tourists or runaways. They're goddamn Black Ops. But you're probably asking, "If that's what they are, then why do they have nothing better to do than to steal shrimp and prank you?" Don't worry, I'll get to that later. Eventually. Maybe.

For now, let's move on to a third thing of theirs: The letter to Kel.

Exhibit C: Esraniki's Letter (D-, see me after english class)

This is the letter left at the Ariral camp if you have maxxed reputation with them. There's one line in particular that's always stood out to me. "GET WE HOME YOU GET DEATH AVOID" So... why can't they go home? Let's review: A: They have perfectly functional spacecraft parked right behind you. Even if they were broken, surely some random Pre-FTL primitive wouldn't be able to help with a mechanical failure in their technology. Hell, they buzz you at the radio tower with one. So there seems to be nothing physically stopping them from leaving. B: They've come kitted out with some serious weapons and armor C: Something in the facility is drawing the attention of all manner of extraterrestrials (and ghosts and demons. are 'metaterrestrials' a good word for them?) So my take? They're monitoring something, waiting for an opportunity to act upon it. (In keeping with the Patch Note naming convention, I will be calling this unknown something "The Threat") Not only that, this 'opportunity' may only open up with the assistance of a human. But what could Dr. Kel possibly do that an Ariral couldn't? Well, I can think of one thing he can do better... Interface with human technology.

Exhibit D: Ariral Communique (quality: shit) Computer technology isn't some universal constant. You can't make a program and expect it to magically run on alien technology with an unknown architecture. This ain't Independence Day. The fact that the Arirals barely managed to send a heavily-garbled message to Kel's computer, quite frankly, speaks of an extreme amount of effort on their part. And it was all just to say the word "OUTSIDE".

If The Threat has some ties to human technology, then perhaps Kel actually could be more qualified to deal with it than the Ariral Black Ops. Hmm... An unknown threat with ties to human technology. Could it possibly involve...

Part 2: The Incredibly Suspicious Bunker

"I left a 'Do not enter' note on the floor. That'll stop people from investigating!" This damn thing is quite obviously, as TVtropes would put it, The Very Definitely Final Dungeon. It is my firm belief that this is what the Arirals were sent to monitor, and where The Threat can be found. But we can't really get much further in than a few doors. So... what's in there? An easy assumption to make is that it's some sort of fallout/storm shelter. But something nearby might tell a different story...

Exhibit E: *squints* ...Liberty Prime? If you take a metal detector over to the bunker entrance, you'll quickly discover a buried drive nearby. The image you just saw is its contents. It's clear that something is being depicted here. What exactly it is, well, that's hard to say. but if you look at that teeny tiny thing at the top, you'll see something that looks like the Alpha base and its radio tower

oh god we're getting into crusty duende video territory now

What this says to me is that there is a colossal something underneath the base. Some sort of mega-facility? Unnatural cave formations? Something else entirely? Or I could be looking at it entirely wrong. But the point is, it's very likely that something extremely expansive is down there.

What if we could just take a peek a liiiittle bit further in? Well, there is ONE way...

Exhibit F: The Least Cursed Elevator in Horror Fiction

Roughly around 3:33 each night, there is a chance that a camera inside the bunker will become active. It's monitoring what appears to be a heavy-duty elevator coated in blood. An elevator like this would also indicate something buried deep underneath the base. Say, this elevator seems familiar...

youtube

Exhibit G: Monique Santificer's Extremely Ominous Foreshadowing

...Huh. I'm sure that only means good things. So we have a Hellivator and evidence that there's some place that you'd need a Hellivator to get to. Are there any other clues around? Well, there's that handy instruction book on robotics. You can make your own little friend!

POV: You're 5'11 and she's 6'0 And... Oh! looking back at that camera, it looks like someone else made their... their own... friend...

Exhibit H: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- ...I don't think they followed the instructions to the letter. So it seems the people in the bunker were working on combining robots and, er, 'biomass'. I don't think our meaty friend here is The Threat itself, but I do believe that it is some aspect of it, or at least a result of it. And whatever The Threat is, it seems to be "leaking" out of the bunker. After all, this toothy bot here seems to have little siblings burrowing out from underground!

Exhibit I: should start running Kerfus. Kerfur. Whatever name they have, they love you! Such a shame that the flesh inhabiting their chassis does not.

they seriously recalled the ++ models over a little thing like this, smh Something deep underground, cursed flesh, and occult sigils. Hmm. Things would tie together neatly if there were, say, some sort of demon around associated with flesh and dark depths.

Part 3: Furfur (and conclusions)

"I WATCH YOU SHIT AT NIGHT" The Great Earl of Hell and raw flesh afficianato, it's Furfur! Demonology refers to him as a liar, but also a teacher of secrets. And he seems to really really like flesh. Not bones, though. He's always leaving those behind.

They say that if you burn an offering of flesh at his altar, he'll give you a marketable Furfur plushie!

The children who survived loved them! Interestingly, there's a certain location connected to Furfur: The bottom of the well. If you pass out at the bottom of the well, you will end up in a (dream of a?) mysterious structure.

Exhibit J: all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well

A few things of note in this place: -More demonic sigils -The only 'exit' is a tunnel leading upward with a broken ladder. And even if you could reach up there, Furfur's giant skull-face is blocking the way. -A unique knife, which when examined in the inventory, says that it was found "deep underground".

How very interesting that this flesh-loving demon has his own little place down in the depths of the earth. And you say the bunker reaching downwards has been spawning horrific robot-flesh amalgamations? Robots that are specifically of human design?

Well then. So here's what I think is going down:

no i'm not crazy it's invisible alien catgirls versus demon cyborgs you weren't listening were you?

-Some scientists from before did a Very Bad Thing in the bunker depths. If I had to venture a guess, it's that they bargained with Furfur for secrets of the flesh, perhaps in the pursuit of cybernetics, biocomputers, or somesuch. This resulted in the Very Bad Thing happening, thus creating The Threat. -The Threat was contained to some extent, but is starting to noticeably leak out. It is also severe enough to have drawn extraterrestrial attention. -The Arirals have sent a squad to monitor the situation and act if necessary. Seeing as there's been no urgent need to act as of yet, they are bored out of their skulls and taking it out on you. -The fact that the bunker hasn't been blown up by catgirl black ops already says to me that the situation down there is delicate, and a 'guns-blazing' approach would be inadvisable. Not only that, but The Threat seems to be tied to technology they have little knowledge of. They would most likely need outside assistance if they want a 'clean' resolution to the problem. -And wouldn't you know it? Right there in the facility is some nerdy, crusty, half-crazed twink that seems to be very proficient in handling human technology. How very convenient.

"average person eats 3 roaches a year" factoid actually just statistical error. Dr. Kel, who-

That's how I think this ties together, personally. Of course, there's always unaccounted for 'loose ends' that may or may not be tied to the Bunker Conspiracy (the rozital pit in particular has been bugging me with its vagueness). Plus there's always the chance that I misinterpreted things like a dumbass. There were a few other smaller things I wanted to cover, but my fingers hurt from typing, and my ability to hyperfixate has its limits. And sorry if the screengrabs are a bit mismatched, I've already spent hours on this post without having to get screenshots from the game myself. If anyone actually read through this monstrosity of a post, congratulations! If you're as deeply brainrotted as I am, feel free to point out the reasons I'm dumb and wrong :)

Addendum 1: Meta Aspects

no, not this. wrong place. wrong time.

Every now and then I hear talk of lore clarifications in Discord servers, Google Docs, etc. Will I be covering these?

(source) The reason? I want to give my impressions based purely on the work as published. Death of the Author and whatnot. The furthest I'll reach 'outside' the games are those ambiguous little teasers on YouTube, which you don't have to be in any 'specific server' or anything to see.

youtube

haha what if funni meme robot was irreversibly corrupted by the horrors?

Think of it as me giving a form of feedback on how the game is presented as an isolated work. Anyway, I'll be posting another Addendum later, connecting more demon stuff to the bunker. Fun! One thing I intend to investigate between then and now is a rumor of a very poorly documented... item interaction. As a little preview, consider this note.

It seems, in my pursuit of knowledge regarding a mysterious bunker in an incomplete videogame story, I find myself investigating a skeletal entity of ambiguous origin described as having a single glowing eye. God. Fucking. Dammit. Every time with this shit.

This always seems to happen whenever the protagonist is bullied by tall monstergirls

Addendum 2: Classified

Progress on my investigation has been slow due to a combination of poor RNG and real-life stuff. Fun fact: I've never encountered the fossilhound in my many months of playing, and it looks like that won't change anytime soon!

I'll get you one day, ya boney bastard. In the meantime, it seems that someone has leaked classified pokemon data communications from our employers...

youtube

And just who do we encounter within the first few weeks?

Our classified documents are their vacation photos

So it seems that at the very least, our employers seem to be aware of the Arirals. So to what end do they want to draw them out? And why would the Arirals show any particular interest in a human presence in this facility specifically?

They clearly seem to be hiding their presence from the world at large with their cloaking ships and whatnot, but they seem almost eager to grab the attention of anyone working at this particular site.

And, as everyone already knows, Arirals are certified Goobers. They form like 3/5ths of the Counsel of Goobers*. The ones we encounter at the very least are very much not what our employers expect to kill us. So our employers are also aware of the existence of some other threat, possibly even THE Threat. *the remaining members are Kerfuses and Dinguses

Truly an incomprehensible menace from beyond the stars. (source)

Personally, I feel like this all feeds back into my previous thoughts. There is clearly a Threat at this location, and the Arirals probably believe that they may need human assistance to do something here. Or maybe I'm just biased towards whatever random thoughts got cooked up in my head.

Anyway, hopefully next time I'll be back with reports of yanking the lifecrystal out from the Fossilhound's head and shoving it up its ass. I am so, SO sick of trying to get that thing to show up.

#votv spoilers #votv #ariral #spoilers #tw blood #dr kel #voices of the void #votv speculation #speculation #furfur #kerfur #kerfus #kerfus omega #this is what hyperfixation and brainrot does to you #i should have been in bed like five hours ago #Youtube

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theplotmage · 4 months ago

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50 Supernatural Entities to Haunt Your Halloween Night for Paranormal Fantasy Writers:

1. Vampire

Description: Blood-drinking creatures of the night.

What They Do: Feed on the blood of the living, sometimes charming their victims first.

Appearance: Pale skin, sharp fangs, often dressed in dark, old-fashioned clothing.

2. Werewolf

Description: Human by day, wolf-like beast by full moon.

What They Do: Transform into violent wolves and hunt at night.

Appearance: Muscular, covered in fur, with fangs and claws; halfway between wolf and human.

3. Ghost

Description: Spirit of a deceased person.

What They Do: Haunt places they have ties to, usually in a restless state.

Appearance: Translucent, often resembling the person they were in life.

4. Banshee

Description: A female spirit who forewarns of death.

What They Do: Wails loudly to signal someone’s impending death.

Appearance: Gaunt, with long hair and wearing white or gray robes.

5. Poltergeist

Description: Mischievous, noisy spirit.

What They Do: Throws objects, slams doors, and causes disturbances.

Appearance: Invisible but known for chaotic energy and moving objects.

6. Revenant

Description: Corpse risen from the grave for vengeance.

What They Do: Seeks revenge on those who wronged them in life.

Appearance: Decayed and skeletal, with tattered clothing.

7. Wendigo

Description: Cursed, cannibalistic spirit.

What They Do: Feeds on human flesh and spreads madness.

Appearance: Tall, emaciated with antlers and pale, cold skin.

8. Zombie

Description: Reanimated corpse, often mindless.

What They Do: Wander in search of living flesh to consume.

Appearance: Rotting, decayed, with vacant eyes.

9. Ghoul

Description: Creature that feeds on the dead.

What They Do: Raids cemeteries, feasting on corpses.

Appearance: Grayish, decayed, with sharp claws and teeth.

10. Shadow Person

Description: Mysterious dark figure, often seen in peripheral vision.

What They Do: Follows or observes humans, inducing fear.

Appearance: Tall, dark silhouette without detailed features.

11. Lich

Description: Undead sorcerer who achieved immortality.

What They Do: Uses dark magic to control other undead beings.

Appearance: Skeletal, with tattered robes and glowing eyes.

12. Mummy

Description: Reanimated, embalmed corpse from ancient tombs.

What They Do: Seeks vengeance or protects their treasures.

Appearance: Wrapped in bandages, often missing pieces.

13. Grim Reaper

Description: Personification of death.

What They Do: Collects souls of the deceased.

Appearance: Hooded figure in a black robe, carrying a scythe.

14. Succubus

Description: Female demon that seduces men.

What They Do: Drains life energy through intimate encounters.

Appearance: Attractive, sometimes with bat wings and horns.

15. Incubus

Description: Male counterpart to the succubus.

What They Do: Preys on women, draining their life force.

Appearance: Handsome, often with dark or demonic features.

16. Dullahan

Description: Headless horseman from Irish mythology.

What They Do: Rides a black horse, heralding death.

Appearance: Carries their own head, glowing eyes, wearing dark armor.

17. Necromancer

Description: Sorcerer who commands the dead.

What They Do: Raises and controls undead creatures.

Appearance: Dark robes, carrying a staff or book of spells.

18. Hellhound

Description: Fiery, demonic dog from hell.

What They Do: Guards the underworld, hunts souls.

Appearance: Large black dog with glowing red eyes and flames.

19. Draugr

Description: Undead Norse warrior.

What They Do: Guards treasure and attacks intruders.

Appearance: Bloated, decaying corpse with armor.

20. Chupacabra

Description: Beast that preys on livestock.

What They Do: Drains blood from animals, mainly goats.

Appearance: Reptilian, with spines and sharp teeth.

21. Djinn

Description: Ancient spirit capable of granting wishes, often with a trick.

What They Do: Manipulates wishes to harm the wish-maker.

Appearance: Wispy, ethereal, with sometimes human features.

22. Yurei

Description: Vengeful spirit from Japanese folklore.

What They Do: Haunts those who wronged them in life.

Appearance: Pale, disheveled, with long, dark hair.

23. Headless Horseman

Description: Decapitated rider seeking revenge.

What They Do: Rides at night, often hunting for a head.

Appearance: Headless, in dark clothing, riding a black horse.

24. Gorgon

Description: Snake-haired monster that can turn people to stone.

What They Do: Hunts or curses those who look upon her.

Appearance: Female, with snakes for hair and a terrifying visage.

25. Kraken

Description: Giant sea monster, often attacking ships.

What They Do: Destroys ships, drags sailors underwater.

Appearance: Gigantic, tentacled beast resembling an octopus.

26. Nosferatu

Description: An older, monstrous version of a vampire.

What They Do: Preys on blood, more feral than elegant vampires.

Appearance: Rat-like features, bald, with elongated claws.

27. Shtriga

Description: Witch from Albanian folklore that preys on children.

What They Do: Sucks life energy from young children.

Appearance: Elderly, shriveled, with a long, pointed nose.

28. Jiangshi

Description: Chinese hopping vampire.

What They Do: Drains life force, hopping instead of walking.

Appearance: Rigid, dressed in ancient attire with a pale face.

29. Aswang

Description: Filipino shapeshifting creature.

What They Do: Hunts humans, especially at night.

Appearance: Changes from human to monstrous form with long tongue.

30. Noppera-bo

Description: Japanese faceless ghost.

What They Do: Terrifies people by erasing their face.

Appearance: Normal human but with a blank face.

31. Kitsune

Description: Fox spirit from Japanese folklore.

What They Do: Plays tricks on humans, can possess or enchant.

Appearance: Fox with multiple tails or as a human with fox traits.

32. Rakshasa

Description: Demonic being from Hindu mythology.

What They Do: Devours humans, uses magic to deceive.

Appearance: Animal-like face, often with fangs and claws.

33. Wraith

Description: Malevolent spirit tied to a place of death.

What They Do: Harms those who enter their territory.

Appearance: Shadowy, with skeletal hands and a hooded cloak.

34. Ghast

Description: Larger, more terrifying version of a ghoul.

What They Do: Consumes living and dead flesh.

Appearance: Grayish, skeletal, with sharp teeth.

35. Kappa

Description: Water demon from Japanese folklore.

What They Do: Drowns humans and feeds on them.

Appearance: Humanoid with a beak, webbed hands, and water-filled head.

36. Selkie

Description: Mythical seal creature that transforms into human form.

What They Do: Lives as human on land, as a seal in water.

Appearance: Human with soft features, seal-like in water.

37. Manananggal

Description: Filipino monster that detaches its torso to fly.

What They Do: Feeds on unborn children and blood.

Appearance: Upper body separates and grows wings at night.

38. Gashadokuro

Description: Giant skeletal monster from Japanese folklore.

What They Do: Crushes and devours people.

Appearance: Enormous, skeletal, with fiery eyes.

39. Pontianak

Description: Vengeful female spirit from Malaysian folklore.

What They Do: Attacks men, especially those who wronged her in life.

Appearance: Beautiful, but transforms into a blood-stained, terrifying figure with long nails.

40. Strigoi

Description: Undead creature from Romanian folklore, precursor to modern vampires.

What They Do: Rises from the grave to feed on blood or energy.

Appearance: Gaunt, pale, with sharp teeth, sometimes bearing claw-like nails.

41. Demon

Description: Evil entity from various mythologies.

What They Do: Possesses or torments humans, spreading chaos.

Appearance: Often with horns, red skin, and menacing features, sometimes invisible.

42. La Llorona

Description: “The Weeping Woman” from Mexican folklore.

What They Do: Wanders near bodies of water, crying for her lost children.

Appearance: Pale, drenched in white, with a sorrowful, ghostly presence.

43. Kelpie

Description: Shape-shifting water spirit from Scottish folklore.

What They Do: Lures people, usually children, into water to drown them.

Appearance: Often a beautiful horse, but can appear as human.

44. Dybbuk

Description: Malevolent spirit from Jewish folklore.

What They Do: Possesses living people, usually to fulfill unfinished business.

Appearance: Invisible, but exerts dark energy around the possessed.

45. Hag

Description: Wicked, old woman often associated with witchcraft.

What They Do: Casts curses, manipulates people, sometimes feeds on fear.

Appearance: Elderly, with wrinkled skin, often carrying magical trinkets.

46. Mare

Description: Spirit that causes nightmares.

What They Do: Sits on the chests of sleeping people, creating disturbing dreams.

Appearance: Shadowy, mist-like figure, sometimes with a vague human shape.

47. Fenrir

Description: Gigantic, mythical wolf from Norse mythology.

What They Do: Destined to bring about Ragnarok, devouring gods.

Appearance: Massive, fierce wolf with powerful jaws.

48. Tengu

Description: Supernatural creatures from Japanese folklore, part bird and part human.

What They Do: Mischievous or malevolent; protect forests and mountains.

Appearance: Humanoid with bird wings, red face, and often a long nose.

49. Doppelganger

Description: An exact double or duplicate of a living person.

What They Do: Appears to forewarn misfortune or even bring harm.

Appearance: Identical to a specific person, but with an eerie, lifeless presence.

50. Nightmare Horse

Description: Fiery, demonic horse that haunts dreams and the night.

What They Do: Gallops through night skies, bringing fear to those who see it.

Appearance: Black horse with glowing red eyes and flaming mane and hooves.

166 notes · View notes

just-aake · 11 months ago

Text

Boundless Devotion - Part XV (Final)

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Words: 8179

It’s difficult to know how much time has passed when you’re trapped within your own mind.

One moment, you’re glaring at the one who you once believed was your father, wishing for his downfall.

The next, you’re falling into the eyes of the one who holds your heart, all while gripping a dagger aimed at hers.

The lost time spent drifting between reality and darkness always leaves you with a sense of helplessness, especially when you later awaken to discover the actions you took during that time, actions that still haunt you.

Your current condition feels similar to that feeling of being trapped, except, unfortunately, this experience is far more agonizing.

With each passing moment, every part of you aches, both mentally and physically.

The sensation only seems to intensify, worsening to where it feels as though your entire body is engulfed in flames, burning from the inside out. Even the simple act of breathing becomes a challenge, let alone attempting to move.

At times, the overwhelming agony drains you to the point where your weary mind is tempted to just surrender to the dark void at the edge of your consciousness, promising relief.

But then a voice breaks through amidst all of the pain, calling your name in desperate pleading.

Though your tired mind struggles to place the voice in the moment, it feels familiar.

There's something about it that warms your heart, making you forget about the pain even if only for a fleeting moment.

The devastation in their tone is the reason you find the sudden need within you to push through the agony, if only to help alleviate the sadness in their voice.

And so, that's what you decide to do.

You endure, and you stay.

Gradually, it starts getting better. The pain lessens along with fewer waves of feverish sensations coursing through your body.

Eventually, you hear other voices too, all familiar and all concerned for you. And as your mind slowly recovers from the fog of pain, it begins to piece those voices with their respective owners.

Wanda and Pietro

Yelena and Kate

Carol

Even Queen Melina

Ironically, the one voice you hear the most, always a constant source of comfort and peace at your side, is the one that proves the most challenging to place.

Frustrated at the mystery of this person, you eventually gather enough strength one day to will your mind to wake up, determined to finally discover their identity.

Slowly, your eyes open, and after a few blinks, your vision clears.

The first thing you realize is that you’re not in your room, but the surroundings look familiar. With a dull ache on your stomach, you opt to turn your head instead to survey the rest of the area.

As your gaze falls upon the sleeping figure by the window, illuminated by the afternoon sun casting a warm glow on her red hair, memories flood back, and you finally recall the owner of that elusive voice.

Natasha

With her eyes closed, the princess sits in her window seat facing you, her head resting on her hand against her bent knee.

The realization that she must have fallen asleep, likely exhausted from watching over you, causes a sad bittersweet feeling to form in your heart.

Glancing around once more, you take in Natasha’s bedroom, a place you haven’t visited in a while since before everything that had happened last year.

Despite subtle changes in details, everything remains mostly unchanged. Her swords and armor hang securely on the wall, and her shelves are lined with books and personal items that she treasured through the years.

On her desk, a small stack of papers awaits her attention, likely documents of the kingdom needing review, and adjacent to them sits a tray of obviously untouched food.

You frown at the sight, aware of Natasha’s tendency to neglect meals whenever she’s stressed or too busy.

Returning your gaze to her, you notice the dark circles under her eyes, deepening your frown and concern.

Intending to call out to her and urge her to rest in her bed, you open your mouth, but your parched throat betrays you, plunging you into a painful fit of coughing instead.

Natasha’s eyes snap open instantly, her body tensing in alertness as she searches the room, before locking onto you in realization.

She swiftly rises from the window seat and approaches the edges of the bed where you lie, her hand reaching out to comfort you but then she stops in hesitation just before she touches you.

As you regain your breath, you notice her hand clench with nervous energy before slowly withdrawing to her side.

Summoning your strength, you reach out and grasp her hand firmly, not letting her go far, as you intertwine your fingers and rest them atop the bed.

You nod toward the bed, silently urging her to stay by your side.

Natasha's tense posture relaxes at your gesture, and a faint, relieved smile forms on her lips as she takes a seat at the edge of the bed. She reaches for the cup on the nightstand, bringing it to your lips and helping you take a sip, soothing your parched throat.

In a whisper so soft as if afraid to break the moment with you, Natasha asks, "How are you feeling?"

“Sore,” you respond honestly, your voice still strained.

A flash of regret flickers across Natasha’s face as she looks towards your injury. Not wanting her to spiral into guilt over what happened, you tug on her clasped hand to bring her attention back to you.

“Can you help me sit up?” you ask, determination in your tone as you release her hand and prepare to push yourself upright.

“You really shouldn’t be moving right now,” Natasha cautions, her hands hovering tentatively in concern.

“I know, but I want to,” you insist.

The thought of continuing to lie helplessly on your back, a sight that likely tormented Natasha during your time of unconsciousness, doesn’t sit well with you.

You want to reassure her that you’re feeling better than your previously weakened state.

Natasha hesitates, torn between honoring your request or prioritizing your well-being. However, she comes to a decision when she sees the determined look on your face.

“You’re so stubborn,” she remarks with a gentle shake of her head, a hint of fondness in her voice, as her hands move to support you carefully in sitting up against the headboard.

“Takes one to know one,” you tease lightly, offering a small smile as you lean back, taking a moment to catch your breath.

A comfortable silence settles between you as you stare up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Memories flood back, and you distinctly recall Natasha’s anguished face above you before darkness consumed your vision.

Your smile drops slightly at the memory, and with a tired sigh, you turn to meet her patient gaze, breaking the silence.

“How long was I out for?” you ask softly.

“Three days,” Natasha responds gently.

Processing the information, disappointment washes over you as you realize what was supposed to have taken place yesterday.

“Your coronation…I missed it,” you say sadly.

Natasha chuckles softly, shaking her head in disbelief at your priority.

“No, you didn’t,” she reassures. “I’m not the queen yet.”

At your confused expression, Natasha continues her explanation.

“I postponed it. And before you say I didn’t have to, you know that there was no way I would have gone through with it without having you there.”

“Besides,” Natasha adds with a playful smirk. “Staying by your side is always better than any kind of event, even if it’s my coronation.”

Her comment lightens the somber atmosphere, drawing a small laugh from you, which makes her grin in turn.

The action causes a dull ache to appear at your side, and unconsciously, your hand moves to brush against the bandages covering where the blade had pierced you, reminding you of your ordeal.

“So what happened after…” you trail off, unable to voice the memory.

Natasha's gaze shifts sadly to your wounded area as she begins to explain.

"Yelena arrived with the physician shortly after. They tended to Pietro and you," she recounts. "Meanwhile, Kate stayed at her manor to apprehend the attackers and helped Wanda to recover."

Concern flickers in your eyes, prompting Natasha to offer a reassuring grin.

"Don't worry, Wanda's fine. She just tired herself out when she took down Rumlow and his followers.”

At your puzzled expression, Natasha moves her hand pointedly, mirroring the similar action of Wanda’s whenever she uses her powers.

“Oh,” you say, at a loss for words in realization.

Natasha chuckles at your expression, raising her brows at you.

“You did say she had a special way with people.”

Sighing worriedly, you explain your reasoning for keeping Wanda’s abilities a secret.

“You know how some people are towards magic, Natasha.”

“Well, considering she saved our lives, I’ll make sure no one messes with her, though I’m sure she can protect herself just fine.”

You let out a small breath of relief at her reassurance before inquiring further, “What about everyone else?”

Natasha tilts her head in thought as she continues to recount the events afterward.

“Clint was able to warn my dad, Steve, and Carol in time to capture the ones under control here in the castle. And as for the ones that went after my mom…”

She lets out an exasperated sigh before continuing, “...let’s just say that they shouldn’t have attacked her in her lab when she was in the middle of mixing certain chemicals and powders.”

You chuckle lightly at the thought, knowing about Queen Melina’s tendency to cause explosions in her lab during her experiments.

However, the mention of explosions brings a grim reminder of another figure Natasha hasn't mentioned yet.

“And Dreykov?” you ask cautiously. “Did he escape?”

Natasha's hand clench into a fist at his name, her expression clouding with silent fury.

"No, he's currently in prison, awaiting trial. Along with the rest of the traitors," she responds, shaking her head with resolve.

Taking your hand in a reassuring grip, she adds, "But you don't need to worry about him. I won't let him hurt you ever again."

Natasha lifts your hand to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your skin.

“I promise.”

You offer her a grateful smile, relieved at the information.

However, a sense of resignation settles in as you prepare to bring up the next topic.

“I guess all that’s left is to decide what to do about me,” you say with a heavy sigh.

Natasha tightens her grip on your hand as she urges gently, "Just concentrate on getting better.”

You chuckle lightly before your expression turns somber as you clarify.

"No, I mean about me being the Stark princess."

An awkward silence descends in the air, both of you acutely aware of the weight of the decision looming over you.

As much as you dislike it, the reality of your identity remains, and you need to officially address its involvement in your future eventually.

“What do you want to do?” Natasha finally asks, breaking the silence.

You contemplate your options and remember your conversation with Bucky, finding that your feelings about your decision remain unchanged even now.

"Honestly, Natasha, I want to just leave it in the past," you admit. "Everything's relatively peaceful between the kingdoms at the moment. What's the point in bringing up troubling revelations from mistakes in the past?"

“Are you sure?” Natasha questions in concern before pointing out. “You’re essentially rejecting your title as a princess.”

You nod, giving her a content smile.

"I've never needed it in my life before,” you say as you tilt your head at her in question, a hint of warmth in your voice as you ask, “Besides, I already have a princess in my life, don't I?”

Natasha returns your gaze with an affectionate smile before intertwining your hands together.

"Yeah, I'm yours," she affirms softly.

Gradually, you feel more strength returning to your body as you remain awake, nodding confidently as you adjust your position carefully.

"I think I'm feeling better enough to go back to my manor this evening," you observe, suggesting, "If you could have the twins come and help me, then you can finally get a proper night's sleep in your own bed tonight."

Before you can sit up any further, Natasha’s hand moves to your shoulder, gently holding you in place, her expression filled with disbelief.

Glancing at her hand, you give her a questioning look, causing Natasha to shake her head exasperatedly.

"If you think you're going to leave this bed anytime soon, especially after being stabbed for my sake, you need to think again," Natasha says firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Meeting her gaze, you both engage in a standoff, locked in a silent challenge. After a moment, Natasha raises her brow at you.

“If the situation was reversed, would you let me move?” she asks pointedly.

You open your mouth to reply before deflating in resignation, knowing you would do the same as her if you were in her position.

“Fine,” you concede, though a small pout forms on your lips, before adding, “But I should still return your bed to you and move into one of the guest rooms.”

Natasha tilts her head in thought as she traces a pattern on the blanket on your lap before commenting.

"Is that really necessary? It's not like we haven't slept in the same bed before," she reasons, her tone light.

Then, with a teasing smirk, she adds, "Unless this is your way of avoiding me after I confessed that I love you."

You pause, taken aback by her casual declaration, and you feel your cheeks heating up as you finally process her words.

When you see the victorious smirk on her face, you roll your eyes and shake your head, giving her a chatising look.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, frustration evident in your tone, though there's a hint of fondness.

“I believe you’ve always called me charming,” Natasha retorts, her smirk widening.

Frustrated, your hands grip the collar of her tunic tightly, pulling her closer to you.

"Natasha Alianovna Romanov," you begin, your voice tinged with both exasperation and affection.

She smirks, amusement dancing in her eyes as she catches herself with her hands against the bed on each side of you, encasing you between her arms.

Gazing at you with a teasing expression, she prompts, "Yes?"

With a small smile, you finally gather the courage to voice the words you've been longing to tell her.

"I'm in love with you," you confess softly, your heart pounding in your chest.

"That's good..." Natasha replies, her voice tender as she leans in closer, "...cause I'm deeply in love with you too."

Her words brush against your lips softly, and without hesitation, you tug her closer, closing the tiny distance between the two of you.

The kiss feels both new and familiar, a perfect blend of passion and tenderness, as you lose yourself in the moment, savoring the warmth of her lips against yours.

Natasha is the one who pulls back first, resting her forehead against yours and letting out a happy sigh.

"You have no idea how many times I've wanted to do that," she admits, her voice filled with sincere longing.

Unconsciously, you lightly bite your lip to keep the warmth and feeling of her there for a little longer, before noticing Natasha's gaze drifting down to the subtle movement.

You recall the countless times you've witnessed that look of desire in her eyes, prompting a small chuckle to escape your lips as you pull her in closer.

"I think I do," you tease, brushing lightly against her lips. "You're not exactly subtle, princess."

Natasha lets out a tiny huff, her lips curving into a playful smile before she leans in for another kiss and then another, each one gentle and delicate, never leaving your lips for more than a second, as she steals your breath away and makes you melt against her.

Your hand, still lingering on her collar, instinctively seeks more contact, slipping beneath the thin layer of her clothing to clutch at her bare shoulder.

The warmth of her skin beneath your touch only intensifies the longing between you as you try to pull her closer.

As you go to deepen the kiss, the moment is suddenly shattered by an unexpected interruption.

“Oh my—Nat! Let her breathe! She just woke up!”

Startled, you pull back from Natasha, breaking the kiss, as your gaze shifts to the doorway where Yelena and Kate stand.

Natasha groans in frustration, her head falling against your shoulder.

Kate quickly steps in to cover Yelena's mouth, offering you an apologetic expression.

"Sorry! We just wanted to check on you two. We didn't mean to interrupt," she explains, as Yelena’s objection is muffled behind her hand.

Still pressed against your neck, Natasha responds in an annoyed tone, "Then leave."

Yelena rolls her eyes at her sister's bluntness, pulling Kate's hand away to respond, "Alright, alright, we get it."

With a warm smile directed at you, Yelena adds, "It's good to see you awake, Y/n."

"Yeah, we're glad that you're okay," Kate chimes in, relief evident in her eyes.

You offer them both a grateful nod. "Thank you two for coming."

“I guess we’ll visit you later then,” Yelena remarks, moving to take Kate's arm and guide her away from the door.

As Kate closes the door behind them, you catch snippets of their conversation.

"Should we really, though?" Kate's voice holds a hint of hesitation. "I don't want to interrupt them again while they're...you know."

Yelena hums thoughtfully before responding, "I mean it's a good thing we did this time, or else Y/n would have probably pulled out her stitches trying to undress Natasha."

Your face flushes with embarrassment as you instinctively cover it with your hands, feeling a wave of mortification wash over you.

Natasha chuckles lightly, adjusting her tunic as she shoots you a playful smirk, a teasing glint dancing in her eyes.

“Don’t even start,” you warn, noticing her mischievous expression.

Natasha holds up her hands innocently, adopting a nonchalant tone as she suggests, "I was just going to say we should have the physician come and check your condition."

She then adds with a teasing edge, "After all, you may have overexerted yourself from being so eager to kiss me."

You huff in disbelief, raising a skeptical eyebrow at her.

"I'm the eager one?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your tone.

Natasha nods with mock seriousness.

"If you say so."

Rolling your eyes, you playfully swat at her shoulder, then turn away with a small pout.

"In all seriousness, though, let me go get the physician," Natasha says, amusement evident in her voice at your behavior.

As she turns to leave, you call out to her.

"Wait, Natasha.”

She turns back to face you, curiosity in her eyes.

Leaning forward, you catch her off guard with a surprise kiss before pulling away.

"...okay, now you can go," you whisper against her lips.

Natasha's eyes fluttered closed at the unexpected contact, her tongue lightly tracing where your lips touched hers. When she finally opens her eyes again, they seem impossibly darker, filled with a mixture of desire and love that makes your breath catch.

“That’s unfair,” she breathes out, her voice husky with desire. “…doing that just as I’m about to leave.”

You pull away slightly, only for her to follow, not allowing the distance between you two to grow. A sly, knowing grin spreads across your face as you tease her.

"I just wanted to see who between us is actually the one who's more eager."

"I'm your princess, yet you're teasing me like this," Natasha says playfully, feigning disbelief.

"And you still love me anyway," you point out, a fond smile playing on your lips.

Natasha's eyes soften, and she closes the distance between you once more, whispering her next words against your lips.

“Yeah, I do.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Upon hearing that you were awake, Wanda and Pietro arrived quickly just as the physician was assessing your condition.

Soon after, a request from her mother to speak with Natasha in private causes her to leave the twins in charge of watching over you at your insistence.

Now, Natasha stands in her private study, a deep frown creasing her forehead as she examines the letters that her mother had handed to her.

“What is this?” Natasha asks, her voice steady but laced with a subtle hint of anger as she reads the contents of some of the letters.

Melina lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples as if trying to ward off an impending headache, knowing that her daughter won't take the news well.

“Many of the heads of the other noble houses in the kingdom are asking for Lord Dreykov’s release,” she reveals grimly.

“He tried to kill me,” Natasha states incredulously. “And yet they’re still defending him.”

“I warned you that Lord Dreykov is influential among the other nobles. You need strong evidence if you want people to turn their back on him,” her mother reminds her.

She then places a stack of documents on the desk, and Natasha quickly realizes that these are the results of Steve’s investigation.

Her mother continues her lecture, as Natasha skims the contents.

“The staff from the Bishop manor provided witness accounts of Lord Rumlow and the others' betrayal, but there were no witnesses at Dreykov’s manor besides you and Y/n.”

“What about his guards?” Natasha suggests.

Melina shakes her head grimly. “Found dead in their cells by unknown means.”

“What about Barnes?” Natasha points out the presence of the old captain.

Melina gives her a look of disbelief, raising an eyebrow.

“The other nobles are not going to believe the words of a known criminal.”

Frustration and disbelief cloud Natasha's expression as she processes the information. She searches for another angle, another way to bring Dreykov to justice.

“If we can’t prove attempted murder against me, then what about the fact that he almost killed Y/n?”

Melina grimaces, her reluctance evident in her expression as she braces herself to deliver the answer Natasha doesn't want to hear.

“What is it?” Natasha presses, her tone betraying a hint of impatience.

Melina taps the stack of letters pointedly before explaining, “Many argue that Dreykov’s actions against Y/n are akin to a father disciplining their child and is not a crime, especially considering she survived. They believe it's a family matter that should be resolved within the respective house and not involve any others.”

Natasha's frown deepens as she hears this, her hand tightening around the letters.

“I told you handling the relationships between the nobles of the court is delicate work,” Melina reminds her gently.

“Yeah, I’m starting to see what you mean,” Natasha concedes, her expression resigned in anger at the twisted parts of the kingdom.

Melina offers a comforting gesture, placing a hand on Natasha's shoulder and giving her a proud look.

“Don’t worry, Natasha. Lord Dreykov can still be forced to face trial if you want. And I’m confident that you can convince the others to be on your side. In this matter and the future.”

Her mother’s encouragement does little to ease Natasha’s mind of the difficult task ahead for her once she becomes the queen.

Despite the troubling news, Natasha still thanks her mother for the warning before taking her leave.

Returning to your side, Natasha finds you resting once again, exhaustion evident in your features. She watches you with a tender and affectionate gaze, remembering her promise to protect you from any further harm.

If there's one thing Natasha is certain of for the future, it's her unwavering commitment to fulfilling her vow to protect you.

With that resolve in mind, she later finds herself standing at the entrance of the most secure cell in prison, her arms crossed as she fixes a steely glare on the person seated in the shadows.

"Well?" Dreykov's voice cuts through the stillness of the chamber. “Is that girl dead yet?”

Natasha's jaw clenches at his callous words, refusing to be baited by his cruelty.

A click of his tongue signals his understanding before he speaks again, his tone laced with a hint of mockery.

“No, you wouldn’t let that happen. So, then, are you here to finish what you started?”

Dreykov's eyes finally meet hers, his form emerging from the darkness as he tilts his head, his injuries still evident in the flickering light.

His face bears the remnants of bruises, one eye swollen shut—a testament to the beating Natasha had inflicted upon him when she first learned of the severity and uncertainty of your condition from the physician.

Unconsciously, Natasha's hands clench into fists, the memory of her rage surfacing as she recalls the moment she unleashed her fury upon him, her knuckles bruising and bleeding until Yelena intervened to pull her away.

Dreykov catches her movement, a knowing glint in his eyes as a smirk tug at the corners of his lips.

“I see, so you’re mad because you can’t kill me,” he says confidently, accurately guessing her current predicament. “Tell me, how many of the other nobles have interceded for my release?”

Natasha grits her teeth in irritation at the extent of Dreykov's influence over the court and the fact he already knows that some nobles would rally to his defense.

“They’ll abandon you once they realize what sort of person you truly are,” she retorts, her tone firm.

Dreykov chuckles in amusement, unfazed by her words.

“Feeling pressured already?” he taunts. “It’s just going to get worse from here on. After all, I’m not the only one in this kingdom who wants a war.”

“And you already know that I would never let that happen,” Natasha counters, her voice tinged with resolve. “That’s the whole reason why you didn’t want me as the queen in the first place.”

Dreykov eyes her critically, considering her words before a smirk dances across his lips.

“Perhaps I was wrong about you. You have potential. You just need the right…” he waves his hand dramatically. “…motivation.”

Rolling her eyes at his attempt at manipulation, Natasha turns to leave.

However, before she can reach the exit, Dreykov's voice calls out to her, stopping her in her tracks.

“Do you know what causes war the most, Your Highness? More than greed or vengeance?”

Natasha turns back to glare at him, irritated by his continued insinuations.

At her silence, he answers his own question.

“Love,” he spits out the word in disgust. “Such a foolish emotion, but you’d be surprised at how much destruction it can cause.”

He raises his brow at her, gesturing pointedly. “And it seems you have plenty for that pathetic girl.”

Natasha slams her fist against the bars, anger erupting, as she glares daggers at him.

“You better hope you don’t get to leave this cell, Dreykov. Because if I ever see you free…” she pauses, her voice lowering to a dangerous tone. “…I’ll kill you myself.”

Despite her threat, a pleased smile forms on Dreykov’s face, as if her words confirmed something for him, infuriating her further.

Turning swiftly to the door, Natasha indicates to the guards to let her out, but Dreykov's voice interrupts her again.

“I do have one more question for you.”

The door opens for her to leave as he continues.

“If that girl ever ends up in the way of you and your so-called peace, would you still choose to avoid war then…or would you fight for her?”

Natasha clenches her hand, finding herself unable to respond, her mind consumed by the weight of his words.

With a determined look, she decides not to entertain his question further, swiftly leaving the cell and slamming the door shut behind her.

“I look forward to seeing what your choice would be when that time comes, Your Majesty,” Dreykov's voice echoes tauntingly down the corridor as Natasha makes her way back to you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The unsettling exchange with Dreykov from that night a week ago still lingers in her mind as Natasha sits at her desk, lost in thought.

She ponders his cryptic words, bothered by his confidence that trouble was coming, and especially at the implication of having you in the middle of it all.

Her main concern is for your safety, prompting her to consider every possible scenario where you might be at risk.

After all, she had come dangerously close to losing you during the recent conflict, a thought that sends a shiver down her spine every time.

Leaning back in her chair, Natasha’s gaze falls on the small opened box resting on her desk, illuminated by the soft moonlight filtering through the window.

The red gemstone embedded in the golden band glimmers with a silent promise, one that she hasn’t dared to ask you yet.

Pushing aside the unsettling thoughts of Dreykov's words, Natasha closes the lid of the box with a gentle sigh, tucking it away in the drawer for safekeeping.

One day, she promises.

When she can guarantee your safety and ensure that she can provide you with a peaceful future, she’ll give it to you then.

A knock at her door draws her attention, and Natasha looks up to see you poking your head inside, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

"Don’t tell me you’re hiding already?" you tease, your voice laced with amusement.

Natasha's lips curve into a fond smile at the sight of you, her worries momentarily pushed aside by your presence.

Chuckling softly, she shakes her head before asking, “Did my mother send you?”

“She wanted me to make sure you wouldn’t be late,” you reply, walking over to her with cautious steps, mindful of your injury.

Leaning back against her desk, you give her a pointed look.

“After all, it’s your last ball as the princess before you become the queen tomorrow.”

Natasha smiles gently at the reminder before glancing down at the area of your dress where she knows the bandages are hiding underneath. Her expression softens with concern as she meets your eyes.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Better,” you assure her. “I’ve been able to move around by myself without any help.”

Standing up, Natasha intertwines her fingers with yours, drawing you closer as she gazes at you.

“You look beautiful,” she compliments softly, her eyes reflecting genuine admiration.

“So do you,” you respond, your hand reaching up to gently brush against her cheek, slowly losing yourself in her gaze.

Then as if remembering your original goal, you clear your throat and nod towards the door.

“We should go. Your mother’s expecting us,” you remind her.

At your suggestion, Natasha moves closer to you, enclosing you between the desk and her body.

“I’m sure we can spare a couple of minutes, can’t we?” she asks, her voice lowering suggestively, caressing the air as she leans in.

Raising a brow skeptically, you tilt your head slightly, your lips barely grazing hers as you ask, “Only a couple of minutes?”

The moment your lips touch hers, Natasha's eyes darken with desire, her breath catching in her throat.

Absentmindedly humming in agreement, she whispers, “…yeah, just a couple…” before closing the distance between you.

Arriving at the ball later than expected, you and Natasha are greeted by her mother at the entrance, who gives you both a reprimanding yet knowing look.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, offering her a genuinely apologetic expression. “We lost track of time talking.”

Melina raises her hand in a stopping gesture at your explanation.

“No, don’t apologize, Y/n. I’m sure I can guess what happened,” she says, shooting a pointed glare at her daughter before turning her attention back to you.

“Would you mind giving us a moment alone?”

You nod in understanding, softly excusing yourself.

Natasha brings the back of your hand up for a gentle kiss goodbye before releasing it, and you turn to leave the two women to their private conversation.

“Hold on, Y/n,” Melina calls out to you before you can go too far.

Stepping up to you, Melina carefully examines you before adjusting the strap of your dress on your shoulder slightly.

“Do try to direct Natasha to a less visible area the next time you two decide to ‘talk’,” she advises with a raised brow.

A flush spreads across your face in realization, and you quickly place your hand atop the area she adjusted, before giving a reprimanding look to Natasha, who looks away, barely concealing the satisfied grin playing on her lips.

You offer a quick, polite thanks before swiftly making your exit, eager to leave the embarrassing situation behind.

Turning back to her daughter, Melina meets her gaze with a raised brow.

“I guess it’s safe to say that your relationship with Y/n is still going well?”

Natasha smiles softly at her observation, her eyes still following you as you go to join the others.

“Yeah, it is,” she replies honestly.

“That’s good,” Melina comments, handing her a cup before taking a sip of her own. “It’s important to show the other nobles how good the two of you are together so that they can have more confidence in the future with you as the ruler.”

Natasha nods in understanding, taking a sip of her drink in preparation for another lecture from her mother.

“Even if your relationship started as a ruse in the beginning,” her mother adds nonchalantly.

Natasha chokes on her drink in surprise at her mother’s words, coughing lightly as she gives her an incredulous look.

Melina raises a brow at her in challenge, daring her to deny her claim.

Looking away, Natasha glances over to where you are, oblivious to you and her arrangement being revealed at the moment.

As if feeling her eyes on you, you glance up, meeting her eyes and giving her a soft smile. She returns it before returning her focus to her mother.

Knowing there’s no point in trying to convince her mother otherwise, Natasha asks instead, “When did you figure it out?”

“Oh, I’ve had my suspicions since the beginning,” her mother reveals, swirling the contents of her cup in thought as she recalls how the events all started.

“That morning, Y/n mentioned in passing about her meeting with Lady Maria as a potential partner, so I knew I had to do something to make you act.”

Natasha's brows furrow as she pieces together her mother's words with her own memories. She was right to think it was odd that her mother would suddenly take an interest in her love life, especially with such a ridiculous ultimatum given in such a short time.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Natasha interjects, holding up her hand as she processes the information. “You're saying the only reason you pressured me to find someone was because you found out about Y/n’s date with Lady Maria?”

Melina nods before offering Natasha a sympathetic pat on her back.

“Let’s be honest, Natasha, you can be quite oblivious when it comes to your feelings for Y/n. I only pushed you to pay more attention to your love life because I didn’t want you to miss your chance with her.”

“No, you said that if I didn’t find someone, you were going to choose someone for me,” Natasha reminds her mother, her tone tinged with frustration.

Melina waves her hand dismissively.

“I was confident that you would come up with something before it ever got to that point, and you did. This charade that the two of you concocted worked out much better in the end, wouldn’t you agree?”

Natasha gapes at her mother, blinking in disbelief. She pinches her brows, feeling a headache forming at her mother’s antics.

“Please, go meddle with someone else's love life,” Natasha pleads, her patience wearing thin.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Natasha,” she says, chuckling, before pressing on, undeterred by her daughter's exasperation. “Now, tell me, have you thought of a plan on how to propose to Y/n yet?”

Meanwhile, after leaving Natasha with her mother, you join the pair at one side of the ballroom. Stepping in front of the twins with a warm smile, you admire their new formal clothing that you had arranged for them to attend the event.

“Well, don’t you two look beautiful and dashing?” you compliment, ruffling Pietro’s hair playfully. He swats at your hand lightly with a pout, then tugs at the collar of his shirt.

“I think you and Wanda are just trying to choke me in this,” he comments.

A red mist envelopes his topmost button and undoes it, granting him some relief.

“Better?” Wanda asks, returning her hand to cross her arms at her brother’s exaggerated behavior.

“Yes, I can actually breathe now,” Pietro responds with a teasing smirk, nudging his sister in thanks.

At the corner of your eye, you notice some nobles nearby shooting disapproving glares at your group, their attention mostly focused on Wanda, and then they begin to speak to each other, their voices intentionally loud.

“So disgraceful that they allow such people in here.”

“Did you see her eyes? They say it’s red like a demon.”

Pietro scowls at their words, moving protectively in front of his sister, but you stop him before he could confront them.

Then placing a comforting hand on Wanda’s shoulder, you check up on her. She gives you a reassuring smile, truly unbothered by their harsh words.

You’re glad to see her adjusting okay to the fact that her powers are now known by others in the kingdom.

Still, you will not stand idly and let them talk about people you care about like that. The twins may not be in a position to say anything, but you can always defend and protect them.

Before you can confront the rude nobles, however, they are suddenly pushed off balance, stumbling to the ground, as the pair of canines rush through their legs towards you.

Their respective owners follow swiftly after them, with the younger princess giving the people a glare and challenging look, causing them to avert their gaze in embarrassment, looking elsewhere.

Yelena turns to your group with a satisfied grin.

“Don’t mind them, Wanda. They’re always judging everyone,” she says.

Kate nods in agreement, adding, “Yeah, intolerant people like them are not worth your time. There’s plenty of people in the kingdom who already know you’re amazing.”

Pietro chuckles and places his hand atop his sister’s head teasingly, remarking, “Careful with the compliments now, we wouldn’t want her getting a big head.”

Wanda rolls her eyes in response, shoving his arm off and commenting pointedly, “Your head is already big enough for the both of us.”

As the four of them continue their playful conversations, your eyes spot a familiar face hovering in the shadows at the edge of the ballroom.

Excusing yourself, you make your way over to the lone captain.

“Not one for parties?” you ask as you step up next to Bucky.

He sighs and shakes his head as he observes the surrounding guests joyfully engaged in celebration.

“It’s been a while since I attended events like these, but then again, I’ve never enjoyed them before anyway,” he admits.

Curious about something that you’ve been wondering about him, you finally ask.

“Why did you decide to come to this kingdom? You know, after hiding away for so long.”

A silence follows, and just as you think he’s going to leave your question unanswered, he finally responds, nodding toward the distance.

“To visit a friend.”

You follow Bucky’s gaze and realize he’s looking at Steve, who’s currently in conversation with Clint and Maria.

As if feeling your eyes, Steve glances up toward your direction, giving you two a welcoming smile and waving his hand in invitation.

A small smile forms on Bucky’s face, surprising you, and you find yourself asking curiously, “Then why not just stay? Enjoy life without constantly looking over your shoulder for danger and having to run away.”

He chuckles ruefully, giving you a look of disbelief.

“I’m the most wanted criminal of the Stark Kingdom. Nowhere is safe for me or for those who help me.”

“Well, at least consider the option,” you say, nudging him gently and giving him a pointed look. “Because you do have more than one friend here.”

He examines you carefully before giving you a silent, noncommittal nod, and you understand that this will be the most you’ll get from him.

“Y/n!”

At the call of your name, you turn to see Carol coming towards you. As you turn back around to excuse yourself, you're not surprised to find Bucky has sneaked away.

Carol stops in front of you, the happy smile fading slightly into a serious expression as she examines you critically.

"How are you feeling?" she asks with genuine concern.

The familiarity in her question makes you laugh lightly as you shake your head.

“You and Natasha. Why do you two keep asking me that?”

Carol raises an amused brow at you.

"It's because we both care about you, Y/n," she answers softly before tilting her head in thought.

"Maybe the fact we both like the same things is why we're always competing with each other," she muses aloud before extending her hand in invitation.

"Speaking of, would you like to join me for one dance before Natasha decides to keep you all to herself?"

You give her a playful warning look, raising your brow at her.

"No extravagant twirling, lifts, or dips?" you ask, knowing her tendencies.

Carol nods in reassurance, answering firmly, "I promise."

As she leads you in a slow dance, keeping an easy pace to avoid tiring you, you seize the moment to ask her something.

“Are you leaving after the coronation tomorrow?”

Carol nods in confirmation.

“That’s the plan,” she responds. “I want to do as much exploring as I can before my own coronation.”

A tiny, sad smile forms on your face at Carol's words. You've honestly missed her since she started her travels. Poking her pointedly, you give her a serious expression.

"Still, you should come visit more often," you tell her.

Her eyes soften, and she gives you a small nod.

“For you, I will,” she says, a hint of affection slipping into her tone. "If you ever need anything, Y/n, just let me know, and I’ll have my ship practically fly back to you."

Her eyes glance at something behind you before she shrugs, adding with a sigh, “And I guess the same applies to Natasha if she ever needs my help again.”

“How generous,” Natasha remarks dryly, her voice tinged with sarcasm, as she comes to a stop beside you.

Carol gives you a small bow in thanks, her expression teasing as she remarks, “Looks like my time’s up.”

“Natasha,” she greets, giving her an acknowledging nod.

Natasha returns the sentiment, her demeanor cool as she replies, “Carol.”

Carol gives you one last smile, before pressing a chaste kiss on your hand goodbye and whispering sincerely, “Be happy, Y/n.”

As she leaves, you glance at Natasha and notice the small displeased pout on her face.

Unable to resist teasing her, you nudge her gently, remarking, “Jealousy looks cute on you.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your statement before offering her hand to you.

“May I have a dance?”

As Natasha leads you in a slow dance, you can’t help but feel nostalgic, leaning your head against her shoulder.

“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” you ask softly.

Natasha hums in agreement and nods against you, responding, “Last time we danced like this, we decided to be a couple.”

You chuckle at the memory, reminiscing about how clueless you were back then, never imagining how things would turn out for the two of you.

The soft music creates a serene atmosphere, cocooning you and Natasha in your own world, away from everyone else.

Recalling the details of your original agreement, you meet Natasha’s eyes, a mischievous glint dancing in your gaze.

“You know, according to our deal, our fake relationship is supposed to end after your coronation tomorrow,” you point out.

Natasha raises an intrigued eyebrow, curious about your intentions.

“So, what should we do about that then?” she asks, her tone playful.

You tilt your head, pretending to ponder before flashing her a teasing smirk.

“Didn’t we agree that if anything were to happen between us, it would be the princess who confessed her feelings first?”

Understanding dawns on Natasha’s face, and she grins in agreement, a fond smile playing on her lips.

“Y/n,” she begins softly, her gaze filled with affection. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were amazing…then I learned that you were really stubborn.”

You roll your eyes at her teasing, but Natasha just chuckles before continuing.

“But you're also kind and smart. And truly the strongest person I know.”

She leans in closer, her breath mingling with yours.

“My heart and my life have always been yours, Y/n.”

You feel warmth spreading through your chest at her confession, and you can’t help but cup her face gently with your hands.

“You’re my best friend,” Natasha continues, her voice barely above a whisper as she covers your hand with hers. “But I would be honored if you are willing to have me as more than that.”

Your heart swells with love, and you nod happily as you respond.

"I want that too, Natasha," you whisper sincerely. “I want to continue to stay by your side and be yours too. Always.”

With those words of promise, Natasha closes the distance between you, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss.

The sound of cheers and applause surrounds you, but you pay no mind, lost in the moment with Natasha.

You don’t know what the future holds, but you’re not afraid. As long as you’re together, you know you can overcome anything that comes your way.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Epilogue

In another kingdom, far away, inside one of the workshops of the castle, the king’s assistant waits patiently by the doorway for a pause in the king’s pastime of tinkering.

“What’s the matter, Jarvis?” Tony Stark asks without looking up from his careful concentration.

“A letter arrived for you, sir.”

“Is it about the next shipment of parts?”

“No, sir, this came from a nobleman in the Romanov Kingdom.”

“Oh…you can just toss it in the fire then.”

There’s an awkward silence as his assistant makes no move to do as he asked, causing Tony to glance up in question.

The assistant hesitates before explaining.

“Counselor Potts strongly advised us not to do that anymore, under the warning of severe punishment should she find out. Also, the messenger stressed that the contents pertain to an urgent matter.”

Tony stops and furrows his brow. After the war and the deaths of his whole family, he preferred to keep contact between the kingdoms to a minimum. Just because there’s a peace treaty between them doesn’t mean he has to like or care about anyone there.

On the other hand, facing the wrath of his most trusted advisor for ignoring this letter is not something he wants to deal with in the foreseeable future.

“Just leave it on the table then,” he sighs with a roll of his eyes.

If anything, it’s probably more news about the coronation of their upcoming queen. He’s already sent his decline to attend the event and a decent enough congratulations present that Pepper picked out.

He doesn’t understand why they can’t just keep the indifferent relationship between the two kingdoms as is instead trying to make them into something closer.

Shaking his head as Jarvis closes the door behind him, Tony attempts to return to his flow of concentration, picking up his tools as he continues to tinker with the parts in front of him.

Unfortunately, as time passes, his eyes keep glancing at the letter sitting in the corner, something about it gives him some sort of unnerving feeling.

Slumping with a resigned sigh that he can’t keep his focus anymore, he places his tools down again and swipes at the letter, sitting at the edge of the table.

Opening it, he skims the contents quickly before his posture suddenly straightens with tension, his expression turning serious.

The door of the workshop slams open, and Tony strides out purposefully, calling to his assistant.

“Jarvis!”

They are at his side in an instant, following him and listening for the next orders.

“Tell Vision to prepare the carriages and let Pepper know I’ll be away a bit for some business.”

“Yes, sir. May I ask where you will be traveling to?”

“The Romanov Kingdom,” Tony answers, glancing at the letter in his hand before tightening his fist, crumpling the paper slightly.

“Looks like it’s time to pay this new queen a visit after all.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

a/n: Thank you to everyone for reading all the way to the end of this series! (especially this long chapter) It's been a journey, and I'm happy that many of you enjoyed it and showed up for every update (all of your comments and reactions are so sweet and fun to read and honestly helped to keep me motivated).

This is the final part of the series, but it's not the end yet. There will be a sequel for Boundless Devotion, and it's called Everlasting Devotion (title mention in prequel Fateful Encounter 🤗).

I’m still in the middle of working on it, so the first chapter is not going to be released right away since I also want to finish some other one shots that I‘ve been working on and maybe take a little break.

That being said, for those currently in the taglist for Boundless Devotion and anyone else who's interested, if you also want to be added in the taglist for when the sequel starts, please let me know. (I prefer to ask again just in case instead of just assuming and forcing you along on another series that you didn't sign up for)

Again, thank you to all of you for reading!

Taglist: @lightwhoranoutoflight, @taliiiaasteria, @romanoffprentiss, @canvascoloredin, @silentwolfsstuff, @blacklightsposts, @arcturusseer, @presser24, @dvrkhcld, @jujuu23, @screechcat, @vivs46, @cd-4848, @youneversawmehereooooooo, @pancakefan7529, @confusedspaceotter, @natbelovasblog, @izzy-b09, @iamheartless, @mrsrushman, @fxckmiup, @natty-taffy, @2silverchain, @traveler-at-heart, @autorasexy, @natsxwife, @mviswidow, @slut4johansson, @automaticdinosaurtaco, @jono723, @mousetheorist, @tofu9162, @natsbiggestfan1, @iheartjohansson, @nothanksbye07, @midastouch013, @dvrkhcld, @red1culous

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff

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shallowseeker · 5 months ago

Text

And yeah, it sucks, and Dean was cruel and murderous and dehumanizing, but on the other hand, 14 days isn't very long.

And yet, at 14 days, things were already starting to repair and heal with Jack just a little bit, even before Cas came back.

(I've seen it said that this didn't occur till after Cas came back, but in 13x04, Jack's behavior and personality are what began to thaw Dean out and, per the script, "put chinks in his armor.”)

///

Interestingly, even back in 13x02, Dean’s body language doesn't match his words. Here it reads as "move behind me."

///

By the end of 13x04, Dean and Jack are tentatively starting to like each other. They're even a little bit alike in this scene:

*THEM: not looking directly at each other as they say HEY awkwardly*

Jack: Hey.

*Dean, doing the same thing*

This is also maybe the first time Dean calls Jack by his name? (I'd have to check, but I think so.)

*Dean’s eyes flitting around nervously*

Dean: “You did good today (pause) Jack”

Yeah, I think you can make a well-argued case for something-something “conditional love.”

But given the Kelly-Cas brainwashing and everything else that came before, I’d say it’s not unreasonable for Jack to like having established trust. To have earned trust.

Earning trust is important in all relationships, not necessarily always an evil “conditional” thing.

///

Then Dean goes and apologizes to Sam, saying that he was out of line during the therapy session and that he's sorry for being a dick lately.

It's sweet, but also, no one is being very empathetic to Dean and his losses. But I think by this point in Dean's life, Dean's not really expecting that either.

He’s only able to get that support from one person in his life right now: Jody Mills. (13x03) Which is part of why he felt comfy taking the case with her, I think.

Later in this scene, in a break with his past tendencies, Dean will actually try to rely on Sam:

///

DEAN: And he tapped his power and saved our asses, so that's a win.

Sam was right about one thing, though. It wasn't Jack’s powers that impressed Dean, or even being saved. It was the effort.

(Jack's personality was already thawing Dean, too.)

///

The rest of the scene is sweet. Dean tries to see Sam's perspective, and Sam tries to see Dean's.

It's a trading of strength and hope, which is how real families are, too. Our strength and resilience wax and wane, and we share our burdens, but we try to share our hope, too.

This is a rare occasion: Dean is trying to share a burden; he lets Sam know how bad it really is.

(Dundundun! Ellen Harvelle would be proud.)

Dean is accepting that Sam isn't going to get there on his own. So he spells out his despair for him. The Cas of it all.

And Sam seems to get that it’s a Cas thing. That's clear in his behavior in the next episode. And Sam wants to be there for Dean, I don't think that's a lie, but…

Sam ALWAYS wants Dean to tell him stuff like this, to talk out the big stuff. But one of Sam’s hopes is that talking things out will fix them.

(Classic Type-A kinda mentality.)

But THIS? Cas’s death isn't fixable, not quite as nebulous as the mom-in-Apocalypse-World-problem is. (In fact, I wouldn't put it past Sam to have been up all night researching, finding NO way to get Cas back. Alternatively, the constant casework could represent just utter denial.)

Anyhoo, Sam's grieving the losses too, but Dean is different. And unfortunately for Sam, John Winchester's grief was so horrendous and frightening that seeing Dean's, uh, particular kind of grief triggers Sam's panic response.

Just look at Sam’s face here.

SAM's BRAIN: brrrrrrrr RED ALERT brrrrr RED ALERT

*Meanwhile*

///

Next episode (13x05):

We find Sam in a state of near-panic. Just look at that face:

And actually, looking at Sam's D8> here…

..I think it's possible that he TOTALLY knew what the PB&J stuff was about, and his brain went into a meat grinder of:

OH NO FUCK NO NO NOT THIS--I RECOGNIZE THIS. THIS KIND OF GRIEF RUINED MY CHILDHOOD!!!!!111

{8[

Don't Grieve in Front of Me Dean (analysis)

Don't Grieve in Front of Me Dean Redux (s7 analysis)

///

So.

Sam finds a case about best friends. Makes you wonder what he was googling to find it...

And Sam’s distress surrounding the case is interesting, because he is behaving so DIFFERENTLY than he was in 13x02 and 13x03:

Dean: *cue surprise*

Dean is weirded out. Maybe he figured Sam would let him take a real break, or maybe it's just that the timing of Sam’s suggestion of leaving Jack behind feels weird now.

They’ve switched places.

Dean was eager to leave Jack in 13x03, and Sam was the one insisting on them staying with Jack to help him “learn to control his powers.”

Now, in about two weeks’ time, Sam’s like—“Jack has TV! We’ll put up extra warding! It’ll be fiiiine!”

Dean’s brain, probably: Hmmm. Sam is trying to cheer me up, but wow are these about-faces on what's bad parenting and what's good parenting kinda fucked up.

///

And at the end of the episode, Dean tries again to tell Sam just how bad it is (mirroring Mary's willingness to offer up “not being okay” in s12):

And Sam is pretty much at sea.

#sam #dean #jack #dean and jack #sam's fear of grief #spn 13x04 #spn 13x05 #you acting like dad #😱#oh fuck you’re acting like DAD because—

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papurgaatika · 4 months ago

Text

Papaya’s Official Pedro Character Dick List

This started as me trying to just list them in biggest to smallest dick order, but i got carried away so now it’s that but with a few fleeting (horny) thoughts. Enjoy whores. Xoxo

1. Joel

Horse cock, duh

"Just the tip baby" is a line he’s ALWAYS using

Y’know that line about how he never actually went to university to study? That’s bc he was def fucking college girls and lord was he the talk of the town

If you could sneak Joel “big dick” Miller into your sorority house you were a legend.

Yes this might just be me being self gratuitous

2. Frankie Morales

Big and thick

Shy about it but too focused on pussy to care

Can get off just from eating you out, is extremely proud of that because it means he can just stay between your legs for however long he wants

3. Marcus Acacius

Roman army general who comes back aching after months of war

Will fuck you until you’re dizzy bc you can practically feel him in your stomach

Breeding kink galore, wants to see you round with his kids over and over

4. Javier Peña

He cant be that full of himself without having a pretty dick

And he is so pretty, maybe not that thick but he is big regardless

Loves to press against the top of your pelvis to make you feel him a little more if he shifts his hips up

5. Dave York

Look at him. I know you’ve seen his bulge dont lie to me you heathen.

Will trace a knife over your skin while he’s pushing into you to keep you still

Wears a cock ring to keep himself from cumming until you’re absolutely begging for it

6. Oberyn Martell

Royal cock. That’s all i have to say

Look. he is canonically a slut, there has to be good dick

Not a vers, but will switch occasionally if he’s feeling like he wants change.

Jerks off while you watch just to tease you

7. Pero Tovar

There’s something about these dirty sword-wielding men that screams BDE

Have i seen this movie? No. do i know that he’s jerking himself off and not bothering to be quiet about it even when he’s out on missions? Yeah. yeah i do.

He’ll bite and mark you, but will kiss them better afterwards

8. Din Djarin

Above average, but not too big, and he likes it like that

Def a grower, which makes it irritating when you tease him while he’s in the armor

Hates having to adjust while he’s on missions but you make it impossible

Missionary STANNNN, loves to have his forehead pressed against yours

9. Javi Gutierrez

Pleasure dom 100%

Just average length and girth, but he KNOWS how to use it, and use it well

Will slide just the tip in and make you cockwarm him laying like that until he makes you cum at least twice

10. Jack “whiskey” Daniels

This fucking asshole (i love him)

Ties you up with his lasso

Just smaller than average, but claims he’d get too distracted otherwise

Magic fingers. 100% and he knows it too.

11. Ezra

FREAK. He might be the freakiest one here if i speak honestly.

Doesn’t care that he doesn’t have a huge dick, says he can make you feel better than anyone with a massive shlong can (my words, not his, he’s too eloquent)

Into fisting and coos at you about how he can split you open on his hand and you’ll still ask for more

12. Silva

Bottom!

Not that he needs a small dick to be a bottom, but he just prefers it

Likes to grind against the sheets to get stimulation while he’s face down

13. Marcus pike

Cutie pie with a cute dick

I dont remember who it was but someone on here wrote soft!dom marcus so well and it makes me crazy

Overstimulates you while you ride him

14. Max Phillips

This is to knock this asshole down a notch

Endless stamina (vampire) so it doesn’t really matter

Super into slipping a finger inside while he’s fucking you

Also will make you eat his ass

15. Dieter Bravo

He has a small dick and dare i speak my truth when i say it’s hot???

He loves it, he doesnt need to be huge to feel good.

This man is a vers and a switch. Power bottoming for DAYS or being a bratty top. He has the best of everything.

Degradation kink GALORE!! If you call his dick small condescendingly he might cum immediately

#papaya thoughts #joel miller #frankie morales #marcus acacius #javier peña #dave york #oberyn martell #pero tovar #din djarin #javi gutierrez #agent whiskey #ezra #silva #marcus pike #max phillips #dieter bravo #pedro characters #hcs

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bokutoko · 3 days ago

Text

2/14

character: atsumu miya (timeskip!atsumu)

wc: 1.4k

cw: valentine’s day (barf), alcohol, cussing, kinda sorta uni!au (uni!reader x msby!atsumu), slight feelings of inadequacy (reader), they kith💋, atsumu thinks the L-word

pt. 2(ish?) to 7/11

Valentine's Day... also known as your least favorite day of the year (besides your birthday, but that’s a whole different story). The holiday made popular by monetizing the idea of setting aside only one day out of the year to show how much you love your partner, with all the godforsaken life-sized teddy bears and dozens of balloons, and all the mediocre chocolate and overpriced flowers. A cock of shit was what it was—someone should not be loved just one day out of the year.

Of course, its only significance to you was being a milestone to remind yourself how painfully single you were.

But you weren't bitter. Not at all. Not. One. Bit.

The kicker, though? It almost felt like you didn't even want anybody. The mere idea of dating someone—a person you probably didn’t even know at the time and probably (not so) secretly a piece of shit—made you so nauseous that swearing relationships off altogether seemed more tempting as the days passed...

But alas, the small, hopeless romantic peeking through the rose-tinted lenses of your heart unfortunately held out for something beautiful one day... Maybe not for a prince, but a knight in shining armor. Maybe not a man to sweep you off your feet, but instead one willing to help you pick up the pieces when it felt like everything was falling apart at your feet.

"Maybe I'll just die an old spinster.”

"C'mon, it can't be that bad," Atsumu's Kansai dialect filtered through your headphones as you walked across campus to your morning class. He’d called, asking if you had any fun plans for the night, fully knowing you didn’t.

“There’s carnations and balloons all over campus. It looks like one of those my little ponies took a dump all over the place."

"But ‘m sure them carnations are pretty. Maybe you'll get one from a guy or somethin’."

"I think I'd rather die," you gagged.

A laugh filled your ears, and everything felt okay–what a nice sound to hear. But after feeling your heart do the thing, you quickly shook it off.

It was strange how for years now, it sometimes made you feel all weirdly warm and tingly when Atsumu laughed with you (even sometimes when he laughed at you).

It was best to not even entertain that notion.

"Well, gotta go, 'm at class," you sighed loudly for dramatic effect, "Maybe I'll go bitch to 'Samu later about my woes and personal vendettas. y’know, since you hate me."

Atsumu found himself smiling at your childish whining. "You mean ‘cause I'll be at practice?"

"Same thing."

“Fuck you too,” he grumbled with a scoff, not an ounce of actual annoyance in his voice, “Bye, nerd.”

A small smile made its way onto your face at his jabs. That was how it always was with Atsumu, ever since you two were in high school together. The both of you always shat on each other, knowing there was never any heat in your malicious words. It was nice, being able to feel safe with someone, to feel comfortable enough to be yourself and unapologetically bully your best friend.

As you prepped for lecture, your mind wandered, constantly circling back to your partner in crime. With every moment that passed, you quickly came to realize that Atsumu always only judged you a little bit with your (sometimes questionable) decisions, keeping it real with you while ultimately supporting you and being one of your biggest cheerleaders. Because all he wanted was to see you succeed. All he wanted was to see you happy.

You felt your face heat up just from thinking about him.

For fuck’s sake—

While it was nice to attempt to delude yourself into thinking something could ever happen, you were easily able to convince yourself that this strange… crush was most likely unrequited.

This was Atsumu. Your Atsumu. He deserved the world.

And yet, you were just… you.

Time seemed to pass as slow as humanly possible: all your classes droning on, your exam sucking the life out of you, your professors assigning loads of busywork for the weekend ahead. The walk back to your cramped, overpriced shithole apartment was bustling with people: couples going on dinner dates, partners buying last minute gifts, and the occasional groups of galentines. Thankfully, your roommates all had plans with loved ones or already left for the weekend, so you had the entire place to yourself to sulk!

Turning the key and walking inside, you were slapped in the face with color. The common room area was decorated with a couple red heart balloons and… a pink “happy birthday” balloon floating around?

Your eyes honed in on Atsumu standing in the middle of the living room, holding another pink happy birthday balloon.

“Happy Valentine’s Day. Y’have no idea how hard it is to find last minute stuff,” Atsumu sighed with a sheepish grin, "and I know it ain’t your birthday, but it was pink—a-and the color kinda matches, so…”

‘What was he talking about?’ he thought to himself, ‘oh god, please shut up.’

And the epiphany came crashing down upon you that maybe you never actually hated Valentine’s Day, you just wanted someone to love you every day, not just for one day of the year. You looked over to the chocolates on the counter and the flowers perched in a vase next to them—it was your favorite everything. On display before you was your favorite dessert, your favorite flowers, your favorite person—

“‘Tsumu…” you struggled to find the right words, “What is all this?”

He just shrugged, hiding the flush to his cheeks by scratching the back of his neck. “Ya’ve been all down in the dumps that you’re single ‘n shit, so i got some chocolates, some box wine, and ‘Samu’s hulu logged in so we can rot on the couch and watch anything ya want tonight.”

Atsumu watched you break out in the biggest smile, almost splitting your face in two, and god, he knew he loved you.

You swiped a box of chocolates off the counter. “You know me too well.”

He returned your smile with one of his own, so handsomely crooked. “I know.”

As the hours passed, empty boxes of chocolates were scattered on the table, along with half-drank glasses from a second round of wine. The two of you devolved into sharing a blanket that was definitely too small for the both of you, resulting in you two occasionally tugging on it and grumbling, “gimme.”

“Woulda thought you’d have plans tonight,” you commented as an ad played on the TV, your voice attempting to sound as casual as possible.

He hummed, feigning nonchalance as well. “I do. I’m here, ain’t I?”

You actively couldn’t stop the snort that escaped you. “Be serious, ‘Tsumu.”

“What, can I not make my own kind of plans?” he huffed in reply.

“I meant a date, ‘Tsumu. Y’know, with a girl ya like.”

He hesitated, feeling slightly deflated by her response. “Yeah…?” His voice was uncharacteristically… soft. It may had just been the alcohol talking, but Atsumu wondered if the taste of your lips, now stained a soft pink, was any better than the vino you two shared.

The air in the room suddenly felt way too warm, and you could feel your face flush as you just silently stared at him, like you were some brainless neanderthal. You swallowed, only just now realizing how close the two of you were—no longer tugging on the blanket but practically cuddling. You felt the warmth of his thigh against your own, and you swore you could die right there on the spot, melting right into a puddle of goo.

Clearing your throat, you mumbled, “Yeah.”

His eyes lazily bounced back and forth between yours, searching for something, and he let out a sigh. “Yer the smartest person I’ve ever known, but God, you can be so damn stupid sometimes.”

Before you had the chance to fire an insult back, you felt a pair of lips on yours, the movements gentle yet nervous. It was instinctual, bordering embarrassing, how fast you melted into the kiss. His tongue tasted of white chocolate truffles and red wine, the heady mixture causing you to let out the softest sigh in his mouth. Atsumu's hands gently cupped your jaw, his thumbs gently running along your cheekbones until his brain finally caught up to his actions.

He pulled away and watched you almost chase his lips, your eyes still fluttering with your skin bathed in the soft lamplight of the room. He quietly whispered, “Sorry, I–”

“Don’t you dare apologize, you dumbass. Just kiss me again.”

And you didn’t have to tell him twice.

a/n: happy valentine’s day to all the happy couples and all the single people out there—single or not, here’s some atsumu to feed the delulu <33

masterlist | navigation

#i want to kiss his stupid lips so bad #ABS POSTING A FIC OVER 1K WORDS???#someone conduct a wellness check #atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu hq #atsumu miya x reader #hq atsumu #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #bokutoko

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mischiefmaker615 · 1 month ago

Note

Musical Mischief Request: Hi! May I please request a romantic story of Loki and fem!Reader during their 45th anniversary dancing to the song Innamorata by Dean Martin?

Innamorata

Summary: it's you and Loki's anniversary ;)

Rating: PG 14

Requester: @groovy-lady

Song Request: "Innamorata" by Dean Martin

Note: I LOVE Dean Martin! being part Italian, he was definitely someone we all listened too :D this song has a special place in my heart :) Happy anniversary btw if that was the intent of the request ;)

Your humming seemed to melt into the same melody with the birds that stayed around the gardens you found yourself wandering. The bottom of your dress lightly brushed up against the grass along your bare feet- shoes opting to be left behind at the entrance while you chose to fully enjoy your walk in nature.

Asgard’s gardens was breathtaking. No matter how many times you’ve visited, it never lacked to give you the same sense of awe like day one. You only wished your husband was here to enjoy it with you..

It wasn’t his fault.. court meetings usually were abundant throughout the days at random- they just popped up inconveniently whenever the two of you tried to plan an afternoon alone together. Especially on such a beautiful day!

Your anniversary.. 45th, to be exact.

Nothing changed between the two of you, you both were as happy as if you were new to your relationship. It’s just.. the more time passed, the more the responsibilities seemed to demand. So you busied yourself, helping as much as you could but for the most part, it wasn’t a place where you were needed. You’ve tried sitting in on some of the meetings, but the hints and comments against you being originally Midgardian became a bit stressful when it became expected.

Loki always defended you, how you had every right to be there as anyone else, especially as his wife.. but the whispers and gossip never went unnoticed still. You were much happier once you’ve discovered the beauty of the gardens, that it helped erase the pondering memories of the court’s rumors. You were here for Loki, that was all, and he loved you, that’s all you could ask for.

The mere memory of him defending you amongst the bothersome company put a smile on your face smile, all the while you would bend to inhale some of the flowers that caught your eye while you walked and welcomed the warmth of the sun against your skin. Bliss, you just wished Loki was here to-

‘’you don’t look a day different from the first time I’ve laid my eyes on you darling..’’

The familiar voice had you opened your eyes and turn around finding your tall, handsome prince standing before you with his whole armored attire and cape- minus the helmet. His smile matched yours, drinking in your instant recognition while his fingers stayed laced comfortably behind his back.

‘’tell me darling, how have I become so luck? For you to continue to love me and put up with me after all these years?” he questioned, playfulness in his voice while you faced him with a matching stance, hands behind your own back while you straightened yourself.

‘’prayer helps.’’ You teased, earning a chuckle from him while he begins to look you over, a seductive look creeping up upon his face as if he hadn’t seen you a thousand times already.

‘’indeed darling, which is why I had come to your rescue all those years ago. Tell me, what had you smiling just now?’’ He winked and began a slow pace towards you, his eyes spaying special close attention below your neck while you began a slow pace as well, walking in a circle with him while you eyed him yourself.

‘’a related topic, my prince. I often think about how many times you’ve been there for my rescue and defense. I must admit, it is quite attractive.’’ You flirted, matching his seductive expression while he began to look humored.

‘’then perhaps you shall allow me to court you darling, since it so seems to be a match so made in heaven?” he teased and stopped in his original spot from before, as did you.

You put on a teasing, thinking face while a finger tapped your chin. ‘’I don’t know.. I do not think my beloved husband would appreciate your advances, he’s quite the brute when it comes to that.’’

Loki laughed and crossed his arms while he eyed you. ‘’this palace is full of secrets darling, and an equal amount of hiding places..’’

‘’I will not give up what I have earned rightfully so.’’ You shake your head and begin to look upon the flowers again, your smile wavering ever so slightly which didn’t go unmissed while Loki’s voice turns to concern.

‘’..what is it darling?”

You shrug mildly, holding back a sigh while you look back at him. ‘’I just miss you, that’s all..’’

Loki raised a brow. ‘’I cannot help the court meetings darling..’’ he sighed, understanding your frustration while he followed your gaze to the flowers that gently moved in the wind. ‘’I will make it up to you for the lost time, I promise..’’

You offer him a gentle smile while you eye him, your brow raising while you hold back a small chuckle. ‘’illusions?” you guess, knowing he couldn’t have finished the meeting just yet.

Loki nodded with a smile. ‘’takes very little concentration, it will hold up until the meeting is finished.’’

You gave a nod while your eyes seemed to wonder, a small idea playing in your mind while a playful smile tugged at your lips. If an illusion was in order, perhaps this would present a perfect opportunity to tease him- stir up something so you definitely had “something” in store for after the meeting. You then began to walk again, a slow pace with your back to him but with a flirtation look over your shoulder.

You could hear Loki’s steps following behind you at the same pace but knew his eyes were on your swaying form. Your fingertips then glided down to brush against some of the branches before you began your humming tune again from before. He always loved your voice, and could practically feel his smile without having to turn around.

‘’it’s a shame your stuck for awhile..’’ you sigh, a little dramatically while you cast another glance over your shoulder. ‘’I have been really.. really missing you..’’ your voice was full of innuendo, he could tell as well what you were referring to while his eyes darkened and his hands ran against his sides to rid of his twitching fingertips.

For extra measure, you even pretended to want to look upon a low to the ground flower and bent yourself over, a perfect view of your covered, heart shaped ass while you looked over the plant. ‘’if only you could- wha!‘’

Your words were cut short when you felt arms quickly wrap around your waist and pull you flush against him, feeling your effect on him pressing right into your rump while you tried to calm your heart.

‘’how-..i thought you were in the meeting??” you exclaimed, hands on his arms while he dipped his head down to begin pressing his lips against your exposed neck.

‘’I never clarified if the illusion was here, or there.’’ He smirked against your skin while joy overfilled your chest and you happily spun around to cup his face.

‘’happy anniversary darling..’’ you tell him happily and rise to your tiptoes to kiss him.

His arms wrapped tighter around your waist to pull you against him, his knees bending ever so slightly to accommodate you and returned the kiss with a hum. ‘’happy anniversary my love..’’ he murmured against your lips and moved a hand up to cradle the back of your head.

You hadn’t been able to tell each other that today- he had already disappeared for court before you were even awake. Your arms wrapped around his neck then, the both of you kissing more passionately while your chest pressed more against his. You could feel the smile against your lips and felt his arms beginning to unwrap, knowing exactly where he was going for next- making you pull back and lean so you could look at him.

‘’you’re going to have to wait, we don’t need you distracted and your illusion dropping again.’’ You lightly warn, noting his pout with slumped shoulders but he nodded all the same.

‘’why do you tease me so, you little minx..’’ he sighed, wrapping you in his arms again while he buried his face in your hair, inhaling.

‘’because you do the same thing.’’

He chuckled, pressing a miss against your cheek before he pulled away to smile down at you. ‘’what were you humming today darling? it helped me find your whereabouts.’’ He asked, a hand cupping your cheek while you smiled up at him from his sudden interest and attention.

‘’Innamorata, it is quite the famous song back on Midgard.. at least it was. It is quite old.’’ You admit but you cherished the classical music you used to listen to back at home.

The vintage didn’t stop Loki from smiling while he leaned back a little more to place a hand at your hip and the other taking hold of your hand. ‘’sing it to me darling, I wish to hear it once more..’’ he whispered, having moved himself closer to you while you giggled and placed a hand upon his shoulder.

“If our lips should meet Innamorata

Kiss me, kiss me sweet Innamorata

Hold me close and say you're mine

With a love as warm as wine..”

Loki had begun to slowly sway the both of you, smiling down into your eyes with love while he listened to your beautiful voice sing the words to your favorite song. You even made yourself giggle in the middle of it while your cheeks went pink.

‘’what does Innamorata mean?” he asked, not recognizing the Midgard term while you bit your lip and pressed your cheek against his chest while you both slow danced.

‘’in love..’’

Loki smiled while he closed his eyes, loving you very much as you loved him while he rested his chin on top your head, pulling you close while you two opted to hold each other while you swayed and whispered.

“I'm at heaven's door Innamorata

Want you more and more Innamorata

You're a symphony, the very beautiful sonanta, my Innamorata

Say that you're my sweetheart, my love..”

‘’you are my sweetheart darling..’’ he whispered and you closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of how he could make you melt while you looked up at him with half lidded eyes.

“You're a symphony, the very beautiful sonanta, my Innamorata

Say that you're my sweetheart, my one and only sweetheart

Say that you're my sweetheart, my love..”

You finished right as he had dipped his head down once more to kiss you, his hands slowly rising up to cup your cheeks before he deepened it, making you give a small moan while your hands moved to his shoulders.

He eventually pulled away and his eyes looked mildly sad, making your body tense and part your lips to ask what was wrong but he beat you to it. ‘’the meeting is finishing.’’

You nodded understandingly, still looking happy because it meant you two could have time together, but he had to leave temporarily back to the illusion. Before you could even think about looking sad, his thumb was already playing with your bottom lip and the hint of mischief lay in his eyes while you smiled.

‘’but I do look forward to seeing how much you really missed me.’’ He smirked, an innuendo promise while you bit your bottom lip.

‘’I’ll race you there then my love.’’

DM a song for your own Loki Musical Mischief one shot :D

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