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just-aake · 10 months ago

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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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locuas642 · 6 months ago

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Elden Ring, my reading on Marika

Having finished the DLC, I am thinking of this scene. The scene from Ranni's ending, where she replaces Marika as a Goddess and Marika vanishes, finally passing away.

And one of the biggest twists in the game, alongside one of the major unsolved mysteries in the story is the reveal that Marika herself shattered the Elden Ring for some purpose, with the most sympathetic reading being that this was the only way she had to escape from the control of The Greater Will and recover her freedom.

The DLC expands on Marika, giving us an origin for her.

That is, of the horrors her people suffered at the hands of the Hornsent, the same people she would command Messmer to wage War upon them and commit what seems to have been a brutal genocide.

Now, my personal reading is that, after what happened to her people, Marika did a metaphorical deal with the devil. Either The Elden Beast or Metyr arrived to The Lands Between near Marika's village, and she accepted to be a Goddess and a servant of The Greater Will in exchange for her vengeance. and to be perfectly fair to Marika, this was the closest to Justice her people would ever get.

Now, Count Ymir suggests Marika was influenced by flawed advice from Metyr, the Mother of Two-Fingers, who lost contact with The Greater Will. But he also believes the moons are just the closest celestial object to our planet, so he is full of Shit. Because that doesn't yet explain The Elden Beast.

In any case, Marika made that deal and became a Goddess and she got her vengeance. And she fulfilled her duty as accorded, Conquering and expanding and forcing everyone to bow to The Greater Will. Who knows what she felt during this time. If she lusted for power as her empire grew, or if she was horrified and felt trapped by learning what becoming a goddess meant.

Because everything about Marika is always specifically filtered through someone else. Even the closest we get, her very words spoken by her, are filtered through Melina.

The second closest we get is Marika's village, where we see the things she left behind, Specific actions she and she alone did for nobody else but the memory of her village. and I say this because This:

is the closest we ever, ever get to meeting Marika. a broken face of someone who has long stopped being human, he don't see her eyes, we don't hear her voice. Yet you know what I see here?

Marika's Tired. So, so, so, so... Tired.

Was that it? that at the very end, Marika simply grew tired? was she, in her last moments, thinking back and remembering The Grandmother by the tree, and wishing she could be there for one final slumber?

And so maybe, regardless of what The Age of Stars means, on whether it is the "good ending" or not, this is the ending Marika wanted. For someone, any of her children, to hopefully succeed her and let her rest at last.

And what we see is that in the last moments of the Shaman whose entire home village was cruelly massacred (and who delivered blood upon blood onto those responsible and unto the innocent, and whose entire life was now defined to the service of some greater power), she is being cuddled in the arms of her step-daughter (of whom she may be Ranni's biological father), a moment of peace and warm before the end of a long road.

Maybe one of the things the DLC was meant to show us wasn't why Marika did what she did. It was to show us that it was time for Marika to go back home at last

#elden ring #lunar princess ranni #ranni #marika #queen marika #marika the eternal #er #spoiler #spoilers #fromsoft #shadow of the erdtree #sote

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wearepaladin · 6 months ago

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Just for fun I’m going to write an outline for an Elden Ring story I’ll never have the time or discipline to write in full, but would be fun to think about. Basically, if Elden Ring were a novel and less bound by the classic Soulsborne mechanic of everyone out to kill you all the time and you could theoretically talk to a bit more folk before they’re running at you with fire and cleavers.

So, more under the cut for those of you inclined for a bit of speculative reading.

So I think the most important thing to get out of the way is the nature of the protagonist, who we have playing the Tarnished of No Renown in this story, because while video games are a fun means of crafting your personalized to fight your way to victory in The Lands Between, for a novel a character who has a presence in the pre established narrative would be ideal. To that end, I have speculated the ToNR’s background based on what can be universally deduced about them based on where they were buried and rose from the Dead when Grace brought them back to life.

So, to that end, I critically went over the game starting zone, The Chapel of Anticipation. It was here where we are interred, along with the ashes of two stormhawks, a recently dead finger maiden, and a Grafted Scion waiting to kill us, with the chapel built on a sea stack with a bridge presumably leading to Stormveil Castle. Stormveil, as a reminder, was originally the fortress of a Storm King, a mysterious figure whose defeat by Godfrey/Hoarah Loux in single combat is considered among the First Elden Lord’s greatest achievements. So, for the sake of the story, based on this little bit of information, I am deciding that the contender for Elden Lord will be played by a Storm King resurrected by the Guidance of Grace, awakened in their tomb to find the Finger Maiden who knew that a lost king was interred here, and where a distant Scion of Godfrey, the Grafted Scion, knew where an old enemy may one day rise.

Thus, a newly risen Storm King would have been active before the existence of the Tarnished as they are now, and indeed, ignorant of much of the current history of the Lands Between and the Shattering of the Elden Ring and ensuing wars. Indeed, depending on the timeline, they would even see Marika as the empress of an invading theocracy and not the long established god queen of the setting. It allows for a protagonist who can fulfill the role of audience surrogate by needing to get caught up on everything, but gives them a more personal motivation than simple power: they are empowered by the force that had slain them and live to see the long wrought consequences of their defeat.

Drawing inspiration from the others titled Storm King in Fromsoftware games, and the nature of Stormveil as the largest and most heavily fortified castle in the game, (arguably anyway) I’m imagining the Storm culture as martial but somewhat isolationist since we don’t see much of their influence beyond what scant remains of their legacy can be found in the castle. The Storm King thus did not combat the Golden Order until Godfrey bested them personally.

The protagonist would then have very personal reasons for removing Godrick from Stormveil castle, not to take his great rune but their ancient home. But in the process of doing so, they meet Melina and the Roundtable Hold, opening doors to a greater understanding of what’s been going on and granting motivation to not just retake Stormveil, but to adress the broken state of the world.

The story the largely goes on as it does in the game: most of the major powers that still remain would be even less inclined to parley with the Storm King than they would some Tarnished with no Renown, but there are some key differences. Limgrave’s population would have a monarch of ancient stock to gather those Sane enough to reside in the safely of Stormveil. The world doesn’t remain static and we see the side of lordship as more than being a godkilling machine, but someone who can lead and have people follow.

Godrick, Radahn, and Rykard are still slain as the three would never be able to be talked down, as they are either determined pretender, ill beyond care, or intending to devour the world respectively. Renalla is never fought as her situation never required a violent resolution. Morgott’s situation becomes much more complex, as while still quite hostile, the growing political influence the Storm King would amass in Limgrave, Liurnia and even remnants of the Redmane army swearing allegiance after the death and liberation of General Radahn, would force a more politically intriguing conflict.

I think that the Storm King would learn that the Erdtree is sealed by thorns by either “diplomacy”’(shouting matches) with Morgott or an intrigue plot involving Black Knives at war with eachother, and lead to the events of the DLC as the SK decides they are unwilling to risk freeing Frenzied Flame or having Melina sacrificed, whatever her willingness. He instead follows a third option, and goes the Lands of Shadow, seeking not Miquella, but Messmer. This would be the beginning of the second book in a theoretical trilogy, as the events in SotE would require the space Rand still culminate with the failed apotheosis of Miquella.

However, as the SK would not arrive in the Lands of Shadow alone, but with political authority tying him to Liurnia and other Golden Order factions, Messmer’s army, having awaited eons for word from home, is receptive enough to allow the SK to engage diplomatically with Rellana and eventually Messmer. Messmer learns of the current status of the Lands Between, meets his sister Melina for the first time, and decides to call off the Crusade after the failed Apotheosis of Miquella. Using his abyssal flame, he then takes his sister’s place at the Mountaintop of Giants, bringing Flame of Mesmer to the tree his mother built her empire from.

While this is happening, the Stormking goes through their own personal journey of discovery as with both the actions committed by the Golden Order and the Hornsent in turn, they find that themself asking the hard question of whether their kingdom’s isolationist policies contributed to the pogroms and cycles of violence by inactivity: could so much harm have been avoided if they or their ancestors been less hostile to the greater lands of the world?

The story then concludes as the ancient powers that have long manipulated behind the scenes interject from various angles as Metyr, the Ancient Dragons, The Frenzied Flame and the Rot all instigate their own attempts regain control of the lands between, with various part of the assembled cast facing their respective foes, Ranni and her Allies facing Metyr and the Fingers, Millicent and remnants Miquella’s followers taking control of their destiny at the Haligtree by facing the Goddess of Rot, Melina and Morgott combining their power against the corrosive influence of Shabriri and the Chaos Flame.

All the while Storm King faces first the Dragons at Farum Azula, revealing ancient ties between the dragons and the Stormking that culminate in a duel between them and Placidusax, and then a rematch between Godfrey and The Storm King, culminating in the final battle against the powers hidden in The Erdtree itself

Then, I think, a variant on the Age of Stars ending would occur. Altered to include influence from the Duskborn and Order endings.

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kunosoura · 6 months ago

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You accomplish your goal and are summoned for a climactic fight, after which you die fulfilled (Normal route Anri, Thiollier, Ansbach)

You slowly wither, losing sight of your goals until you’re a hostile husk (Lucatiel, Crestfallen Warrior)

You find what you’re seeking, go mad, and get put down like a dog by the player character (Gideon, Big Hat Logan)

You achieve what you’re seeking, lose purpose, and turn up as a corpse at the end of your questline so the player can get your armor without having to attack you (Sirris, Yura/Shabriri)

Miraculously, you survive! Maybe you’re the lucky vendor still chilling in the hub area at the end of the game, maybe the player did everything just right to save you, maybe you got something resembling a Happy ending. (Karla, Solaire, Nepheli)

You die tragically and early, too gentle/weak for this world (Irina (ER), Real Iosefka)

You die or perhaps vanish mysteriously after a certain point, leaving behind your gear (Dragon Priestess, Eileen)

You turn on the player after your purposes diverge and are killed (Lautrec, Licia, Leda)

You die or face a fate worse than death, having taught the player character - your last pupil - all you can (Rhea, Sellen)

Your fate is intrinsically tied to the ending, and the player chooses in your favor (Ranni, Kuro, Maiden in Black)

Your fate is intrinsically tied to the ending, and the player does not choose in your favor, but you at least put up a hell of a fight (Gentle Blade Emma, Melina at least narratively, Gehrman)

You are fodder for an evil questline and are killed off by the player (Mephistopheles’ victims, Nepheli in Seluvis’s quest)

#sekiro #bloodborne #dark souls #demons souls #elden ring

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hikarry · 2 months ago

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Spencer, dear, I'm so sorry, but "I Will Survive" is not a Crowley song. Seriously? Disappointed

Bro-

Do I-

*waves frenetically towards the picture below*

Portraying Crowley as this suave, cool and mysterious guy that breathes rock is such a surface level analysis of this dork. That's what HE wants you to think of him. Gorgeous redhead fellaw with slinky hips and rockstar style, yes, BUT

He had his silly goose phase and his silly goose phase was Disco Tony and everyone in my household is going to respect Disco Tony

Look me in my bloody eyes and tell me this lil queer fella and his buddy Freddie Fucking Mercury didn't go down to the Golden Lion back in old Soho and drink their weights in beer as "I Will Survive" played and they kissed some guys here and there?

("Why the Golden Lion again, sweetheart? Why not that Harpoon Louis place everyone is talking about back in Earls Court Road?"

"Ngk, no reason. Absolutely not because I'm very desperately trying to bump into this very very annoying guy whom's I've only seen from a far since we last talked in the 60's after he gave me something we had had a fight over some years before and now we are kinda weird with each other and I dunnot know what he expects of me, but, fucking Heaven's, why does the bloody angel have to be so bloody complicated anyway? You should have seen the way he looked at me. The bloody idiot sitting in my Bentley saying I "go too fast". Go too fast?! What does that even mean?!"

"Ah. Right. Bookshop darling."

"Ngk. No. More like. Pain in my arse. The idiot. The way he looked at me made me feel like...agh....like I was falling apart. Is it really so hard for him to stop being a posh little shite and talk to me straight? Stop- Don't look at me like that. Pull that bloody eyebrow back down, you noisance. You know exactly what I mean. I just...ngk, it feels so lonely sometimes and-"

"Lonely, you say, darling?"

"Don't. Don't you even, Mr. Big Shot Rock Star. Azi-...The angel and I go back a long long time. I'm just used to have him around, that's all, but he's so...so..."

"Extremely queer and quite dishy? I don't see the problem here, really, Tony dear. Just walk up to the bloke and grab his arse. Worked for me and Jim just fine."

"You got bloody lucky, is what you got. Absolutely high out of your own arse, you bastard. I don't do that."

"Oh, but you do-"

"Ngk. No. Not to him...Bloody Heavens, stop-"

"I didn't say anything."

"I can feel you judging all the way from here, Melina."

"My sincere apologies if my sunglasses cannot hide how much I think you're a bloody cream puff, Anthonia Jennifer Crowley. The man is unmistakably almost as bent as the two of us combined. How much do you want to bet with me, right here, right now, that man is dying to have you turn him into an artiste until he is absolutely knackered?"

"Satan, you're fucking impossible sometimes...It's not that bloody simple, alright? Just. There's so much left unspoken between us still and-"

"God, that's a load of tosh, Anthony. You're arse over tits in love with the bloke and instead of getting a move on and a possibly great shag..."

"...Fred...?"

"Hold up one second, darling. Let me just-"

"Fred-What the-Fred-What-Is that-Where the fuck did you take that notebook from? We are on out way to the pub! What-! Stop bloody writing-!"

BAAM Freddie Mercury writes "One Year Of Love" on his way to the Golden Lion in Soho in the company of his mate Anthony J. Crowley, once again sucking on the man's pinning for the mysterious bookshop bloke he has the hots for.)

Anyway- (Adhd brain. It's 5 am on a saturday. What do you want from me?)

I rest my case

Snake boy absolutely asks Alexa to play that song when he is alone in his flat and he wants to feel a lil nostalgic and let loose

#bro adhd brain is real #this is a silly ask and i turned it into a fictional conversation between Legend Freddie Mercury and a silly fictional demon with a crush #bros go to sleep #ain't nothing good nor productive coming out of anyone's brain at 5 am i promise #post season 2 crowley absolutely hammered out of his arse singing this song with that little hatred towards the angel?#bet #...i might actually need to write this ngl #ADD IT TO THE LIST KRONK #asks #anon #disco tony #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #aziracrow #david tennant #gomens #crowley good omens #freddie mercury #and yeah freddie gave must his friend stupid nicknames mostly female nicknames #crowley got stuck with anthonia jennifer i'm sorry it's 5 am and my brain can do so much #and yes freddie's nickname was melina #you thought my only obcession was the snake man eh? boy are you mistaken #aziraphale and crowley #this is about my crowley playlist i presume #if not oops too late #crowley and aziraphale #aziraphale good omens

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space-blue · 6 months ago

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SOTE rant (1)

One thing that I find very annoying, is the propensity for Lore video makers to completely jump on the DLC and analyse it in a void. Everyone is theory crafting like the base game doesn't exist anymore.

Everyone is taking Miquella's approach as the go to for divinity 101 and acting like only the people name dropped in the DLC matter, except for Radagon, who is very important, despite NEVER being named, ANYWHERE in the SOTE game files.

Oh no, excuse me, he's named ONCE in a delete dialogue (unless he speaks during battle but I was under the impression that he never does?) from Radahn:

Yet everyone is out there saying Marika used the gate to make herself a god and created Radagon in the process. And that he was created that way as her lord, and then immediately fathered Messmer and Melina.

But I... kind of don't see it? Why would SHE need to use a special vessel ritual like everyone is theorizing?

She already has a sworn lord : Godfrey.

Why is everyone making these Marika centric lore videos and never dropping the names of key characters?

Godfrey. Serosh. Maliketh. Why is nobody asking themselves WHEN did Marika get granted her "brother" Maliketh by the three fingers? Why is nobody making speculation on whether she had a pact with Hoarah Loux before becoming a god.

He could very well be the vessel needed. He doesn't need to have his soul separated from a body or any such nonsense. That's what Miquella ended up doing because he had no choice if he wanted to use Radahn.

Here is what we know of Godfrey :

Godfrey was a ferocious warrior. When he vowed to become a lord, he took the Beast Regent Serosh upon on his back to suppress the ceaseless lust for battle that raged within. The first demigods were The Elden Lord Godfrey and his offspring, the golden lineage. Crown of Godfrey, the first Elden Lord. The age of the Erdtree began amongst conflict, when Godfrey was lord of the battlefield. He led the War against the Giants. Faced the Storm Lord, alone. And then, there came a moment. When his last worthy enemy fell. And it was then, as the story is told, that the hue of Lord Godfrey's eyes faded. Helm of the Crucible Knights who served Godfrey, the first Elden Lord. Weapon of Godfrey, Elden Lord. It was broken in a battle fought as leader of the Tarnished during the Long March. This weapon is symbolic of Godfrey's vow to conduct himself as a lord, later becoming an emblem of the golden lineage. In the days of the past, a crown was warranted with strength.

The first demigods were The Elden Lord Godfrey and his offspring, the golden lineage.

This line either means that the voice of the game is lying, wrong, or not knowledgeable enough. Or that Messmer is not a demigod, or that Messmer is the son of Godfrey.

And while he does have red hair, he is cursed with a red flame... And his little sister, Melina, doesn't have the distinctive red hair of Radagon's children. She's also not a demigod as far as we know.

Messmer and Melina are named M like Mohg and Morgott! We have plenty of hints that they could be Godfrey's children, first and foremost being the canon base game text asserting all demigods first descended from him. We simply don't know otherwise.

It's also asserting he was the first Elden Lord, and not second or a later addition.

There's also his vow to conduct himself as a Lord, which seems like something he might have done prior to Marika making him Lord.

The beast depicted is Serosh, aged counselor who guides the golden lineage. The black nails protruding from golden fur are said to represent Serosh, Lord of Beasts, who went to become King Godfrey's Regent.

Serosh is very mysterious, and we just know he's some sort of limiter. I've made plenty of posts arguing for Maliketh and Serosh being the same type of beasts from the same global origins.

Beasts are reverred by the Hornsent! Our first boss is their storm beast guys, and the head looks quite similar to Serosh. Who, BTW, is also a spirit form?? Who turns real on command?

All this to say, it doesn't sound impossible at all, to me, that Marika would have come to the gate of divinity already having a lord lined up -- Godfrey -- and counsellors giving advice on how to execute her plan : Serosh and Metyr mother of fingers.

I assume it would be in Metyr's power to grand Marika her (necessary?) Shadowbound beast.

Isn't it interesting that Maliketh is a Shadowbound Beast? In our Shadow Realm DLC? He's never mentioned in the files, sadly.

But all of these people are key to Marika's ascension. I wish people would think about them more when they do their lore videos and not just roll right into creating Radagon out of thin air.

What bothers me most about the secret rite here, is that it says "the secret rite of the divine gateway", like THE rite, not A rite. It could be THE other one is not secret...

But more importantly, the line "usher in a god's return" just really does not fit EITHER of Miquella OR Marika. Neither of them is returning!! Maybe the God of Placidussax would be returning, but both Marika and Miquella are/try to ascend for the first time.

Miquella is also the only one with anyLord shennanigans we know of for sure.

I think Miquella divests himself of everything in order to comply with this ritual. So he has something to "return to". He sheds everything, so that he can pass through the gateway. But he's returning to an Empyrean's birthright. To a demi-god.

But we don't know that this is something Marika would have needed. We don't know that she used this specific ritual. After all, circumstances are VERY different for her :

The Gate of Divinity is fresh and bloody, implying a recent mass sacrifice. And then she plucks Gold from a corpse or receptacle of some sort.

None of this is depicted in Miquella's return, and he's not trying to emulate his mother, because her way of doing things came with a curse loaded "original sin". So we even have reason to believe Miquella would not actually be replicating the same ritual.

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irithylldancer · 3 months ago

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Messmer and Melina are the bookends to Marika's family. Her family begins and ends with a vision of fire.

Just something I've been thinking about today. It's taken me a while to come up with a satisfactory narrative for Messmer's origins and I don't think I would have come to any conclusions if I didn't think on the origins of Melina. Some scattered thoughts from me and others can be found in this thread here. Also some extra context for this theory: I don't think Marika was ever put into the jar and I think Radagon was always a part of Marika, not a separate person who then joined with her.

I want to preface by saying that I think the Gloam Eyed Queen is a foil to Marika. There isn't much info in the game about her and she remains quite mysterious. They're both Empyreans chosen by the fingers and possibly, also born influenced by fire. To what extent, I couldn't really say for sure unless I go into super speculative town. We know GEQ harnessed the power of Destined Death via fire, giving the ability to her apostle children; and Marika passes on the affinity for fire to Messmer and Melina. I think it's something that's passed down genetically (idk another word to describe it lol) and not them being influenced directly by outside forces (like Malenia and Miquella) because of Radagon also naturally having that red hair. As a divestment of Marika, he took on that property. Essentially, GEQ embraced her fire while Marika smothered hers.

Malenia and Millicent's characters helped give me a lot of answers to questions. We know from completing Millicent's questline that she was born when Malenia bloomed her scarlet rot. An action that was most likely very a intense emotional and physical pressure (a reference to a crucible? heavy emotions and bodily stress strained to make new life akin to smelting?). Another huge clue was looking through the various statues of Marika. They help give us a decent view of the timeline.

The headless one is kind we find in the Land of Shadow. Middle is Marika holding baby Messmer from his boss arena (from kitetales on YT), and the last one is the kind we find around the Lands Between. Judging from the length of her hair, we can start to piece some info together. The story trailer for Shadow of the Erdtree and the Hornsent Grandame mention Marika's betrayal. I think they were the ones who constructed those churches around the land. As an Empyrean, a vessel, they saw the potential for her to become their new living god. It's why I don't think Marika was ever put into the jar. She was already a living jar in their eyes.

Then we have this snapshot from the story trailer. Her hair is much longer than the statues depicted in the LoS. What's also interesting is how she's dressed. It's not her typical attire, but something very similar to what Radagon wears. In this moment, if we assume that Radagon's persona has come into existence and they share the same body, her ascension didn't happen alone. If we reference back to Malenia and Millicent's creation, Markia becoming a vessel for the Elden Ring would also count as intense emotional and physical pressure, off shooting new life in the form of Messmer. If this is the case, he is technically the son of Marika and Radagon. Radagon's mix into this off shooting of Messmer is what classifies him as their child, earning him a butterfly. His birth would have been incredibly special if it happened in that moment and why I think Messmer was given so many blessings and love. Why he was the 'chosen one' for her crusade. Now looking to the statue of Marika holding baby Messmer, her second braid has been cut (it's hard to tell from the photo, but kitetales does rotate the statue in a video and the braid is gone). That cut braid we find later in the Shaman Village as the Golden Braid talisman, an offering she leaves before veiling the LoS.

As for Melina (also butterfly baby), we know for sure that Marika and Radagon had converged back together because I think she was born as a result of shattering the Elden Ring. Another moment of extreme emotional and physical pressure. Melina tells you she was born at the foot of the Erd Tree and that her purpose was given to her by her mother from inside of it. Anything she remembers revolves around the Erd Tree. And since most fans agree that Marika is influencing the guidance of grace, it's also possible she was able to convey Melina's purpose to her while crucified inside the Tree. I won't go too into detail about Melina as a person since I've discussed it in another thread, but we can reference Millicent as her parallel. Offshoots of divine beings, not raised by their mothers, but they feel this compulsion to complete a journey and fulfill a purpose. In the end, they both regain some memories and find their autonomy as their own persons.

Ending this really long post by bringing up Law of Regression.

The fundamentalists describe the Golden Order through the powers of regression and causality. Regression is the pull of meaning; that all things yearn eternally to converge.

I think this sum up Messmer's, Melina's, and Millicent's narratives really well. Despite having no memories, Melina and Millicent feel this pull. A force of yearning to return to their mothers in some way because they are fragments of them. And I think Messmer feels this pull too, but he knows he can never make his journey home.

#thank you for reading if you did #elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #radagon of the golden order #queen marika the eternal #messmer the impaler #base serpent messmer

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ghostofashina · 5 months ago

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"An affair from which gold arose and shadow too was born"

This was clearly about Lands Between and Lands of Shadows, how these two places coexist in different aspects. But also, I think it can give us a nice perspective about Godwyn and Messmer births.

This is just a small theory I made while trying to built up a timeline, because these two births tend to blend into the other and I think it's on purpose. And I know, where Melina fits in this? I still think Melina is one of the youngest of the pack, as a secret weapon of Marika recalling Messmer's kindling being out of her reach, but this is another theory for another post. Now, I'd like to bring a small theory about Godwyn being the child born from the seduction and the betrayal.

SOTE SPOILERS ahead.

We know, for certain, Godfrey was Marika's true first Elden Lord. But, even it being a common sense that Godwyn was their firstborn, there's actually no true evidence claiming he was born before the omen twins. Except that now, after one piece of dialogue in the DLC, can shows us this and a little more.

First things first. Messmer's dad still is the great mystery of Shadow of the Erdtree, and again I think this is on purpose, because considering Godfrey's evidence, the game wants to tell us he was already there when Messmer came to life. And I, personally, don't think neither Radagon or Godfrey are Messmer's father. I think, in a parallel to christian God, sacrificing his son for the sins, Marika birthed Messmer alone — and Melina, that's why they both share a vision of fire and are direct siblings.

According to Marika's own words: "[Radagon] Thou'rt yet to become me. Thou'rt yet to become a God. Let us be shattered, both. Mine other self."

Knowing that Marika comes from the Shaman Village, and that her people was "grafted" to each other in seek of the divine, he is a part she divested herself later in the story and Messmer was some sort of manifestation of this, but not necessarily a child of Radagon.

And I guess we can agree Messmer was born in the Lands of Shadow, because he knows very well the sins committed against his mother and her own modus operandi. He was there before her godhood and that's why Godfrey's offspring got the title of first demigods. And Godfrey, too, was there with Marika since the start.

I won't get into the timeline of events, because it's a mish-mash in game, and I don't have the tools to explore assets and files. But, one thing that the DLC gives importance is the act of a vow. And we know Marika and Godfrey did a vow.

Leaving his past of Hoarah Loux, Godfrey took Serosh upon his shoulders to ease his bloodlust and accept the role when he sworned a vow with Marika to become a Lord. Which can reminds us of the Secret Rite Scroll, found in Shadow Keep.

"A lord will usher in a god's return and the lord's soul will require a vessel."

We can argue here about the roles of vessel and soul, because it feels Godfrey became the vessel to the Beast Regent (some sort of lord), which recalls the amount of lion representation in Hornsent culture. So, I tend to think that Serosh was part of the "betrayal" in order to ascend Marika to godhood with Godfrey as her lord consort.

That's when I imagine Godwyn was born. After the vow, to consumate the idea of Godfrey being named a lord of the golden lineage once Marika achieved godhood and started the Age of Erdtree.

If we recall the Minor Erdtree, left to the matriarch at Shaman Village, it's said:

"Secret incantation of Marika Only the kindness of gold, without Order."

I can see this as Miquella divesting himself of St. Trina, his love. Marika bathed her home in gold, knowing there was nothing left to heal. Alongside with her braid, it was a departing gift, because she was leaving for a new era. She is leaving her kindness of gold, to built the order. Godwyn was her last act of kindness of gold before the Order. That's why we have so many evidences he, alongside Messmer, was her beloved child of gold.

Going deeper, once we advance the questline of Hornsent Grandam, she tell us a very specific dialogue line, that can show us why Godwyn was curseless when he was born, different from his siblings.

She spoke of a omen curse. Curse upon her children, each and all. Messmer as her own flesh and blood, which I believe, carried the grafting curse upon her people over and over again, being a vessel to an outer god "grafting" into Marika's child. But Godwyn was curseless, because he was conceived outside cursing eyes, in secret. He was born of a vow that, once came to common knowledge, was called "the seduction and the betrayal" in the eyes of the Hornsent.

The birth of Godwyn was the start of her ascension to godhood. The affair from which gold (golden lineage, golden order, the golden prince) arose and shadow (abyssal serpent "shorn of light", shadow keep, shadow tree) too was born. And everything about them is represented of golden and shadow. From the eclipse to the golden ring in their symbols (as we see in the Death Knight's cloak or battle axes and alongside Messmer's spear and flame). So, I keep thinking they both were born at Lands of Shadows. One to purge her enemies and protect her kingdom, the other to represent a new era and maintain her glory. Godwyn is the Golden and Messmer is the Order.

#elden ring #shadow of erdtree #sote spoilers #messmer the impaler #godwyn the golden #godwyn the prince of death #more ghost's speculations

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bishopsbeloved · 11 months ago

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the art of falling in love (part three)

natasha romanoff x fem reader

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

read this fic on ao3!

But that awful feeling doesn’t go away… quite the contrary, it grows and grows. It’s a dark and hidden part of you, diseased, something you seek desperately to rid yourself of — but it only festers and worsens with the more time you spend with your love.

Yet being away from her is out of the question. The feeling only worsens whenever you’re away from her; an unbridled monster that dwells deep within the caverns of your chest, and bursts out at the most inopportune of moments. A tiny voice in the back of your head warns you that you’re turning into someone unrecognisable. You ignore it. Because you finally have the girl of your dreams, Natasha Romanoff, the one you’ve loved as long as you can remember.

“Whoever is this mystery girl you are dating, I do not like her,” Yelena says to you one day. It’s about a month now since the catastrophic spring break party at Tony’s house, and five months since the New Year’s party which began this whole mess. The two of you have been tasked with slicing vegetables for Melina, who is bustling busily around the stove. When Yelena speaks you have to physically pause to process her words, for fear you may otherwise slice straight through your own flesh as if it were another carrot.

“Mystery girl?” says Melina interestedly. “I did not know there was a mystery girl. How did I miss this? Y/N, sweetheart, you have a mystery girl and you have not brought her home yet?”

You glare at Yelena, and she smiles sweetly back.

“Nothing serious, ma,” you say to Melina as levelly as you can before turn to Yelena. “What do you mean, you don’t like her?” you ask, resuming your vegetable cutting. You try to ignore the shake of your hands and the beat of your heart. “You don’t even know who she is.” You hope, anyway.

She shrugs nonchalantly, as if she were discussing the weather rather than the affairs of your heart. “I don’t have to, to not like how she makes you feel. You are so different now, I do not like it. You are all sad and quiet and far away.”

“No I’m not,” you say in a small voice, fighting to hold back a tremble. You can only imagine the words she’d be saying if she knew it was her sister she was talking about.

“Yes, see!” says Yelena triumphantly, like you’ve just proven her point. “I say one thing and you are about to cry. Before you would hit me and we would be done.”

“You should not waste time on anyone who doesn’t treat you right, my sweet heart,” says Melina more tactfully, setting down her wooden spoon to cup your face in her gentle weathered hands. “You deserve the world. Find someone who gives you it.”

Your eyes do well up after she says that, and you have to turn away and blink rapidly so that Yelena doesn’t give you one of her knowing looks. To her credit, if she sees, she doesn’t say anything.

But Melina’s words weigh heavy on you, even after the conversation moves on — as though they’ve placed a physical burden upon your shoulders. They echo in your mind as you excuse yourself from the conversation and trudge upstairs, past the door of the very one they’re unknowingly warning you of. They play on repeat even as you’re beckoned into the bedroom of your secret paramour, who tells you to lock the door behind you. She’s sat on her bed, watching a Bond movie on her laptop, mouthing along to every word like she usually does.

“C’mere,” she says to you, patting the space between her legs. You obey wordlessly, sitting down between them with your back against her chest. Her arms wrap around you, tugging you closer, and her chin settles comfortably on your shoulder.

“Missed you,” she mumbles, sending shivers down your spine even as your troubled mind dwells on Mama Melina’s words.

You deserve the world, she repeats to you as Natasha begins to drop kisses along your neck, and you shift involuntarily in her lap. She groans and bucks up against you.

“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs against the skin of your collarbone, tugging at your shirt to trail her kisses lower. Natasha is your world, you think to yourself. And when she gives herself to you in moments like this, who are you to say it’s not enough? You remind yourself to be grateful every day that she sees fit to give you anything, to engage with you at all after she’s been so out of reach your entire life.

So as her kisses become lower and more insistent, you submit yourself to her completely, willing to do whatever pleases her. Because she is your world, and you would do anything for her — for better or for worse.

Unfortunately for you, though, Yelena does not seem to be the only one who’s noticed a shift in your behaviour.

Prom isn’t for another six or seven weeks, but already your classmates have begun the most over the top promposals you could think of, with each trying to outdo the last. It was only a few days ago that Bucky Barnes asked Steve Rogers to prom by writing “PROM?” on his back in sunscreen and then laying in the sun until the rest of him burnt. Rumour has it he tore off his shirt in front of their whole homeroom like some budget Superman knockoff. (Rumour also has it that Steve said yes. You’re not quite sure what to make of that.) (Well, at least you don’t have to worry about Bucky and Natasha anymore?) The halls are filled with hushed whispers of who might ask who next, and what methods they might choose to do so. And naturally, with Darcy being one of your closest friends, it is literally all you hear about when you are on the school premises.

…and Loki Laufeyson tells me Vision is thinking of asking you to prom, Wanda, Darcy signs triumphantly. You and your friend group are huddled around a table in the corner of the school library, supposedly studying, but with prom on the way that was never gonna happen. (The school librarian, Ms Harkness, is deathly serious about her no noise rules, but naturally as a friend group with a Deaf person in it that doesn’t really apply to you, so you often find yourselves in here.)

Since when were you on such good terms with Loki? asks Makkari with sceptically narrowed eyes.

Since the Stark party at Easter, comes Darcy’s confident reply. We did a science fair project together and now we’re totally friends. And they are very sure Vision has something planned.

I wouldn’t take it too seriously if it’s Loki telling you that, Wanda says dryly. They love to gossip. I don’t know Vision Stark, I’ve barely ever spoken to him. He kinda runs in the opposite way whenever he sees me.

He’s nervous, Darcy tells her knowingly. The guy’s scared of his own shadow, but he’s not too bad once he relaxes a bit. Give him a chance, I think you’d really like him. And also he apparently has neared a state of cardiac arrest several times trying to pluck up the courage to ask you out.

Wanda hums, and chews on her lip thoughtfully.

And you, Y/N, Darcy turns her gaze onto you now, you’ve had nothing going on for months. Have you got your eye on anyone?

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you shake your head no. I’m content where I am now, you say, which isn’t really a lie. Because you are happy. Right?

Darcy only shrugs before turning to Yelena, who is sat next to you while she gazes out of the window, zoned out as she often is whenever talk turns to romance. You nudge her gently with your foot and she turns, blinking out of her daydream. “Hmm? What—?”

“Shhh,” you all remind her instantly, as Ms Harkness’s head snaps up from the paperwork she was just bent over at her desk.

Sorry, Yelena rectifies hastily. What’s up?

Prom, you inform her, biting back a laugh at the way her face comically drops into one that’s very unamused.

I know you and Bishop didn’t work out, but do you have anyone else who might ask you to prom?

You look over at your best friend anxiously. Yelena has not really come out to anyone, only casually mentioning her aromanticism over dinner, to which Melina and Alexi barely batted an eyelid. Darcy does not seem to be picking up on the hints, though.

If anyone asked me, I would say no , Yelena tells her bluntly . I don’t do that stuff. Me and Y/N go together. Right, Y/N?

With matching outfits, you add helpfully.

We are going to serve, Yelena agrees, and the two of you low-five.

You can tell Darcy has more questions, but before she can press either of you any further the bell rings, signalling the end of free period. The four of you get to your feet, piling belongings back into your bags, and Makkari follows your example once she sees what you’re doing.

You end up falling behind at the back of the group, with Wanda next to you. She’s looking at you curiously, as though she’s seeing right through you, and you fidget uncomfortably.

Are you sure you’re happy? she asks you. The question hits you like a punch to the gut. Because you have not seemed it, lately.

You nod and smile weakly at her, and to her credit she pushes no further, but much like Melina’s words it weighs heavy on your mind long after she’s forgotten about it. You are happy, aren’t you? You are. You are happy. You have the girl of your dreams, for fuck’s sake. Of course you’re happy.

And that’s true, for the most part. You’re happy when you’re with her — and when you can switch your brain off around her, instead of pining what more you could have. Because this is all you have. All you’ll ever have. And every day you wake up, fearing that this is the day she’ll end whatever is between you, and cast you aside like the doll she’s done playing with.

But you must not seem that happy to other people, because it’s only a few hours later that you are questioned yet again — this time by Sam Wilson, who it is considerably more difficult to be upset with.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he calls down the hall as he spots you, awkwardly half-running to catch up with you. Last period has just ended, and you’re making your way to the science lab that you know Yelena just had a class in. You smile at him when you recognise him, and slow down until he matches your pace. Since that night he helped you out at the party the two of you have been talking a lot more, and you’ve found yourself really enjoying his company. You’ve never really been too good at making friends — if you didn’t have Yelena, your other half, you don’t know what you’d do — but things seem to come naturally with him. He’s very calming to be around, and he never makes you feel as though you’re supposed to be something that you’re not.

“What’s up, Wilson?” you greet him.

“I gotta bone to pick with you,” he says with half-hearted annoyance, even as he grins at you. You blink up at him in quiet confusion. “How come you stood me up yesterday night? You said you’d meet me out by the east block and you left me hangin’. We were supposed to go to Boulevard, remember?”

You groan and tilt your head back as you realise he’s right. The two of you have recently picked up a habit of hanging out at the arcade on the Boulevard after school for a couple nights a week. (He’s a beast at Donkey Kong, and you will never in your life be able to beat his high score, but you always manage to put up a good fight when you versus in Mortal Kombat.)

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. “I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

“Are you sure?” he asks jokingly. “Cause you skipped out on the one before that too.”

“I’m really sorry,” you weakly offer. “I just…” Well, what the fuck kind of excuse are you supposed to offer? I’m sorry, my secret girlfriend slash love of my life will only spend time with me in private because she’s ashamed of me? “…I don’t know. I’ve kinda been all over the place lately. Sorry.”

“Yeah, no shit. What’s going on, man, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, and you’re horrified at the moment at that your voice trembles. “No, I’m good. Seriously. Just stressed for finals,” you try tentatively, and you’re relieved at the way he just nods sympathetically.

“Well if you need a distraction, I’m free tonight,” he offers hopefully. You instinctively open your mouth to deny him, but when you see the way he’s poised and ready to accept your inevitable denial you pause guiltily. Why are you saying no and standing him up if he’s your friend? Your alternate itinerary for tonight is sitting around annoying Yelena and hoping that Nat will want to spend time with you tonight. This sounds way more fun.

A distraction. A distraction from the feeling clawing at your insides, which won’t let you sleep at night until you get that goodnight text.

“A distraction sounds good,” you say, and he grins back at you. Only a moment later Yelena’s class comes flooding out of the science lab, and your beloved blonde Russian approaches you. You’re glad to see she’s recovering some of the usual bounce in her step, after last month’s mishap.

“Come on, Natasha is giving us a ride,” she tells you excitedly, offering Sam a brief nod.

“Actually, can you tell her make my own way home? Me and Sam are hitting the Boulevard.”

“Alright. But if you win enough tickets can you get me that stuffed otter they have in the window,” she asks hopefully, and beams when you nod. “You are the best. And don’t forget to call Ma if you won’t be home till late, or —”

“She’ll have a heart attack, I know,” you say patiently. “Love you.”

Natasha probably won’t even notice you’re gone. She won’t mind.

Famous last words.

Sam ends up dropping you home, and the two of you stop by a fast food place on your way, so you’re not home until ten. You stumble into the house with bleary eyes and a bug-eyed, oversized otter tucked under your arm, but a heart fuller than it’s been in a long while, and a smile on your face to match. That smile is quickly wiped off of your face as you turn around and lock eyes with Natasha, who is sat on the top of the stairs. She’s evidently waited up for you.

“Hi. Is Lena still up? I won this for her.” You hold up the otter lamely.

She shrugs, a gesture so small you nearly miss it in the half-light. “I don’t know.” Late at night when she’s tired, tinges of Russian begin to creep back into her otherwise perfectly ironed American accent — she always scowls and makes an effort to fix it whenever you point it out, but to you it’s adorable. It’s like an ever so slight glimpse into the real Natasha, the one who makes you heart-shaped pancakes and remembers the names of all your favourite movies. And in the months that are passing in your relationship you feel like you’re seeing that side to her less and less.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly after a few moments. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yeah?” you say uncertainly. This feels like a trap. “Y— uh, yeah, I did, thank you.” You swallow, hard, as a pit opens up in your stomach. “Are… are we okay?”

She hesitates. “Are you happy?”

“Huh?”

“With me. When you’re with me. Do you have fun like you did tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice is small and quiet. “I— I don’t know what you want me to say.”

She’s silent. Like she doesn’t even know what she wants from you. Cautiously, gingerly, you speak again.

“I had fun tonight in a way that I can’t with you,” you say carefully. “You never want to spend time with me unless we’re alone. I don’t really know what we are, I know we’re not dating, but it feels… I don’t know.” You pause for a second, and your next words sound uncertain of themselves. “It feels like… you’re ashamed of me.”

The words are finally out of your mouth, at long last. For a moment it’s like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, but it comes crashing back town twice as heavy when you see the be way your words physically crush her.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” she whispers. “I’m not… I just…” And then she says something so quiet that even as you strain you can’t catch it. “Um. Don’t worry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

And while you do see her in the morning, nothing is the same. So you’re once again the bigger person in this relationship, the one taking care of her (and you’d do it forever, of course), and you give her exactly what you know she needs — some space, and some time. You’re not really sure what’s going through her head right now (you never are, to be honest), but what you do know is that she’d hate to feel smothered as she figures it out for herself. She’s more similar to her sister than she’d like to think. It’ll be okay, you tell yourself. You’ll give her what you know she needs, because sometimes you know her better than she knows herself, and trust that when she’s ready she’ll come to you.

But she doesn’t, and things are rocky between you and your love in the time that passes. Since the night you came home from the arcade, she’s been almost avoiding you. No more good morning or goodnight texts, no secret movie dates in her room, no more stargazing on the rooftop or late night drives. With every day that you wake up and meet her vacant gaze at the breakfast table you lose a little more hope. The end is nigh, you fear; the thing you’ve known all along, the fact that you were just a toy to her that she’ll dispose of when she’s bored, comes creeping back from the distant corner of your mind it was banished to, into the forefront — and you see it everywhere you go. In every tight-lipped look and sleepless night you pray for the end of this purgatory, whether that comes in the form of her embrace or her denial; anything but this wretched liminal space. This in-between where you don’t feel human to her.

Prom night rolls around. You and Yelena have indeed coordinated your outfits, just as planned, and the two of you are going together. (A slight and tiny part of you had hoped that maybe, somehow, Natasha would ask you to prom, and she would be your date. A much bigger part of you knew that would be her idea of purgatory.)

The two of you are carpooling with your friend group to the school, where your prom will be, in a limo that you all pitched in for. Darcy and Jane Foster, Makkari and Druig, and Wanda and Vision are all already piled in when the limo rolls up in front of your house — the last stop before the night truly begins.

“Interesting choice of interior decor,” Yelena muses, taking in the limo’s pink velvet seats and rhinestone-studded handles with thoughtfully narrowed eyes.

“Darcy picked it,” says Wanda monotonously.

She said we had to go all out for prom, Makkari adds with an eyeroll. The two of them earn lighthearted smacks from the target of their teasing.

You aren’t really sure what you’re actually meant to do at prom. Even in the movies, they’re never really very specific about what prom actually entails.

“What do you think we’ll do?” you ask Yelena, as the two of you hand in your coats to the concierge (a member of the student council who looks very stressed).

She snorts. “Judge people’s outfits, get drunk, take photos and dance, I’d say. I guess some people will be hooking up, too.”

“We will,” adds Darcy with a shameless wink as she passes the two of you, being dragged along by Jane. Your cheeks flush slightly, while Yelena sighs in affectionate long-suffering.

“Any updates on your super-secret girlfriend?” Yelena asks, and the usual guilty feeling pricks at your gut. She, of course, hasn’t been told of the conflict, because you’ve told her as little as possible. You don’t trust yourself to not break down out of guilt otherwise.

You try your best to be optimistic at first, but Yelena’s very quickly proven right. As soon as everyone’s arrived you tick off your first scheduled item on the prom itinerary — judging them — and you move swiftly onto the second.

“This tastes like shit,” you grimace as you sip gingerly from the drink Yelena presents you with. She bursts out laughing.

Before long, you’re feeling pleasantly fuzzy, and perfectly willing to embarrass yourself in front of your classmates on the dancefloor — so when Sam Wilson comes up to you proposing that you dance, twitchy as anything and evidently nervous out of his mind, it doesn’t feel as significant to you as it does to him that you accept.

He kisses your cheek when the dance ends, and you flush violently. But when he offers you his arm you take it, and he’s led along to a quiet afterparty back at Wanda’s house. It’s okay, you tell yourself, to be having fun with someone else. Natasha’s shown no interest in you for more than a month. It’s not that you don’t love her, because you do, but you can’t exactly force her to spend time with you, can you? It can’t cause any harm to have some fun with your friends.

But only a little down the road a certain redhead has shut herself in her room, and begins to ask herself why she’s behaved the way that she has.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #black widow #high school au #marvel high school au

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year ago

Note

Hey first of all, thank you for your writing! I enjoy reading your work a lot. I wanted to request an addition to the older sister! Reader AU where the avengers manage to catch a person who used to be a high ranking officer in the red room and has a lot of intel. They specifically requests to see reader. And reader goes in and the person is smug and taunts r about everything she did under dreykov and what dreykov did to r. (Hints to a lot of sexual assult trauma, if you dont mind) and r has gotten used to the taunts, having bward plenty during her red room days. Carol though who was outside in the interrogation room with r’s sisters is livid. She is very protective of r and so she comes inside the room angry. But as the person keeps taunting and saying demeaning stuff about r u still remain unaffected but carol cannot take it. I mean thats the idea I had, you could do whatever u want with it! Thanks again. And sorry for the longg request

Mine to Protect

Family is More Than Blood Masterlist

There things in this story that be triggering of people, please advise the warnings!

Warnings: heavy description of past sexual experiences (usage of handcuffs, voyeurisms, power dynamic, ) implied sexual assault (uses it to taunt the Reader and Carol), original male character uses pet names from the reader, gross dirty talk, past trauma mentioned, self harm, death of an original character, mention of killing, Carol is hella pissed this this and protective.

Relationships: Carol x Reader, Yelena x Natasha x Reader (Platonic), Avengers x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 3.0k

All of your life, you’ve known pain. The pain was physical suffering\ or discomfort. It caused great trouble, and it could be mental or physical. Pain in the Red Room was negative. It was mystery hands that held you down and took whatever they wanted from you. Hours spent at training, at the ballet bar, or forced to kill your fellow Widows because of an order given. You hated pain and all the negative thoughts that came with it.

However, your life changed. It wasn’t contained by the Red Room. You had room to grow, dream, and create the person Dreykov tried to destroy. Now, pain wasn’t always negative. There was pain that morphed into pleasure when Carol bit down on your neck and soothed it with her tongue; a warmth would fill your belly. Sometimes, you went a little too hard as you trained against Steve and felt each punch from the super soldier, but your laughter bounced off the walls. Other times, you brunt your hand when cooking with Wanda or lose an arm wrestling match with Maria. All that pain was good, a reminder that you were free.

You sat outside. The brisk New York fall air filled your lungs. There was an ache in your fingers as you played the guitar. It would take time for callouses to form on your fingers. You heard the door open and close, but it didn’t stop you from humming to the song you were playing. It was Steve, Tony, and Maria. Oh boy. Stopping, you put the guitar beside you and gave the trio your attention. “Why do I smell trouble?” You asked.

“It’s not me,” Tony said, sniffing under his arm. “I showered.” You rolled your eyes at the billionaire.

“Does the name Andrei Lebedev?” You kept your face neutral, but your stomach dropped. That name would forever be in your nightmares.

“Yes, he was part of Dreykov’s second ring. He disappeared when the Red Room fell. He’s been on Melina’s list, but we haven’t been able to locate and deal with him,” you explained.

“Deal with him?” Steve questioned. “So would kill him if you found him?” You huffed in frustration.

“Don’t act all high and mighty, Rogers. These men have power even with the Red Room gone; they are better off dead.” With a vacant spot, there was a fight to be at the top. You and some of the other freed Widows were working on eliminating them before they could gain momentum. You looked at Maria. “What’s going on?” She handed you a file.

“Lebedev was found in New Asgard,” you opened it and saw a mug shot. The man was 6 feet, 5 inches tall. He had striking blue eyes. Unlike the last time you saw him, his dark brown was longer instead of neatly combed. However, a faint beard outlining his jaw gave you the idea that he was going somewhere safe to shave. “He was looking for asylum, but Val thought he was acting odd and brought him in for questioning.”

“Once they learned who he was, Fury had him transferred to us for questioning,” Tony added. You handed back the file.

“What does this have to do with me?” You had a feeling you knew where this was going.

“He won’t talk to anyone, not me, Maria, or Natasha,” Steve said. “He’s asking for you.” Fuck. Of course, he fucking was. God dammit. Why was Wanda away on a mission?

“What do we want from him?” You asked. Killing him would be the easiest solution.

“Fury wants whatever information we can get from him before sending him to the RAFT,” Maria explained. “Will you talk to him?” You sighed, stood up, and grabbed the guitar.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Sometimes you used pain to punish yourself. Your time at the tower was perfect. Self-inflected pain was the best tool you used to remind yourself of the past. Of the blood you shed and the countless lives ended by your hand.

On the other hand, pain helped ground you. A pinch of the skin on your thigh, biting down on your lip, or fingernails digging into your palm. Anything to help you stay present, preventing your mind from slipping away.

You stared at the door that separated you from him, nails digging into your palm. Your sisters and Carol will be watching. There was no fighting them on that. Sighing, you opened the door. “My malen’kiy pauk (little spider),” it had been a long time since you’ve heard someone call you that name. You closed the door. Immediately, pulling the chair away from the table to sit down. “I’ve missed you so much,” he continued. “But our last meeting was a little different,” he moved his handcuffed hands onto the table. The clash of metal echoed in the quiet room. “If I remember correctly, you were the one handcuffed. No matter to me,” he leaned forward. “I do love a change in a power dynamic.”

You crossed your arms against your chest, placed your right leg over your left, and leaned back into the chair. You remembered that day. Andrei Lebedev was part of Dreykov’s second circle or the vtoroy. These men were trusted as handlers and could leave the Red Room on missions or requests from Dreykov or his inner circle. But they were still seen as less than. They aimed to become part of the pervyy, the men closest to Dreykov. Although Dreykov was the face of the Red Room, it was impossible to run it without help. These men had the same amount of power as him; their word was God because you knew Dreykov knew about the order. A majority of the members of the party were killed in the Red Room explosion. The men you were after were part of the vtoroy. If the Red Room remained, Andrei would be part of the pervyy. He was a cable solider, a little hot-headed, but Dreykov would have crushed that spirit into submission. As a mission success, the pervyy granted Andrei’s request: a night with you. It wasn’t the only time you laid underneath this main.

“Being an Avenger looks good on you, kotenok (kitten). It fills you out nicely,” he groaned, licking his lips. “I bet you taste just as sweet. Do you want to be a good girl again? Just for me.” Still, you remained unfazed, face neutral. Men like this loved to talk, to inflate their ego with their sexual conquests. With time, he would reveal everything.

“I think about our time together a lot,” he smiled. “Your moans were music to my ears. They helped me through many lonely nights.” Lonely nights? The phrase stuck out to you for some reason. How many nights was he truly alone? He was freshly shaved and showered; you figured Val wouldn’t give him time alone to do all these things before locking him up. The man disappeared without a trace once the Red Room fell. Not even Melina, with her contacts, could find him. Andrei was bright but needed to be more smart to avoid capture. Who was helping him?

“Come on, baby,” he whined, mimicking a child throwing a tantrum. “Let me hear that voice again. You were very talkative when we last saw each other. I miss it,” his fingers tapped against the table. “Tell me, pretty, can anyone make you cum like I can?”

No one could see how your nails dug into your bicep, nails so sharp you knew it would pierce your skin. Pain. It grounded you, saved you from slipping into memories of that night, and kept your face stoic when all you wanted to do was scream.

As Carol recognized the true strength of her powers, she practiced keeping her emotions in check. Anger was powerful. Her rage could bring down skyscrapers, collapse entire planets, and turn the milky way into chaos if she wasn’t careful. Through her space travels, she witnessed horrible injustices that boiled her blood, ground her teeth, and left her fuming. Still, she kept her anger in check. However, she was struggling. The way this pig spoke to you was disgusting and vile, and you were just taking it. The only time Carol saw you move was when you first entered the room. She wasn’t sure if you were still breathing.

Unlike you, Natasha couldn’t stop pacing. She would get to one side of the viewing room, turn around, and repeat the process. Not even Maria could get her to stop; Carol believed it had to do with Natasha still being upset with her girlfriend. The youngest of the trio was quiet, playing with the ring all three of you shared. A quiet Yelena was never good, in Carol’s opinion. She saw the blonde tense up every time the man said something about her sister. Andrei laughed. “Why don’t you undo these cuffs? We can put on a show one more time before the cart me away. If I remember correctly, zaychonok (bunny), you loved having an audience,” he groaned, eyes rolling in the back of his head. “My little slut. It got you so wet.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Carol mumbled. All she saw was red. Unlike before, no one was there to protect you; no one was there to tell him to stop. But she was here now. You were hers to protect. She felt her powers itching at the palm of her hands, begging to let loose. It was getting harder to control it, this anger growing inside her. She knew he was still taunting you; maybe she heard Natasha or Maria’s voice, but it was becoming white noise. All of it was pointless besides one singular thought. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” To her surprise, no one stopped her when she left the room.

The door busting open startled you. The hinges barely had enough strength to keep it upright as your girlfriend entered the interrogation room, eyes glowing. Andrei was pulled to his feet and pinned to the wall by her forearm. You saw her entire body shaky. “Oh, is this the pet’s new master,” he teased. There was a shake in his voice as Carol was cutting off air into his lungs. “Tell me, do you pass her around like her old master, or do you keep her to yourself?”

“If you say one more word,” she hissed. “I will crush your windpipe.” You stood up, barely making a sound, but Andrei saw you.

“Oh, this is your lover, isn’t it?” He laughed, gasping slightly. “I’m jealous,” he taunted. “She is a gem—a queen among women. Tell me,” he whispered. “Can you make her scream like I can?”

“I won’t hesitate to paint this wall red with your blood,” you wanted her to do it so this nightmare could end. But it wasn’t the mission. “You can’t hurt her,” Carol continued, putting more pressure on his neck. The man gasped. “She is mine to protect, and I will kill all of you if I have to to keep her safe.” The man smiled, and for the first time entering this room, a chill went down your spine.

“Oh, you think with her living with Earth’s mightiest heroes, she’ll be safe; you are wrong.” Got him. It only took Carol intervening, but he was ready to talk. Gently, you placed a hand on Carol’s shoulder. Her eyes flickered to you.

“It’s okay,” you forced a smile. “Let him go.” You saw the internal debate happen in her eyes. Soon, she released him and threw him back into the chair.

“Power dynamic,” he said, rubbing his throat. A bruise was already forming. “I guess I was wrong about you two.” You sighed and sat down, this time closer to the table. Carol closed the door but stayed in the room, standing in the corner. Your arms were still crossed, and your nails again found the indent in your arm. “You got yourself an impressive guard dog over there. She needs a lesson in obedience.”

“I don’t own her, and she doesn’t own me,” you said. “Who helped you avoid detection after all this time?” He gasped.

“I’m offended you don’t think I could do it alone.”

“You aren’t smart enough, Lebedev,” you deadpanned. “So give me names, or my guard dog will attack.” His eyes glanced at Carol in the corner, and you saw him gulp in fear. Instead of talking, he leaned forward, faces inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your skin. A sharp pinch of your skin kept you present.

“Answer me this, kotenok (kitten). Do you feel safe here?”

“Is that a threat?” You countered.

“Merely a question,” he said. “Do you feel safe here with your sisters close by, Captain America as an ally, and Tony Stark’s super fancy AI keeping watch?” He slammed his hands down, but the sound didn’t scare you. Your nails dug deeper. “Do you feel safe?” He asked again. “Because Oriel Sergeev wasn’t the only person upset when the Red Room fell from the sky.” Oriel Sergeev? He was the man who created that ‘fun’ room.

“Who is helping you?” You asked again. He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in the chair.

“I don’t kiss and tell; you should know that. The Red Room provided stability, a balance, and you and those cunts you call sisters broke it,” your jaw clenched. He huffed out a laugh at your reaction. “It’s only a matter of time before bad girls like you get punished.”

You watched Maria and a few other agents lead Andrei to transport. A body collided with you that almost sent you falling to the ground, but Carol’s arm kept you upright. It was Yelena. Her jasmine scent perfume invaded your senses, grounding you further. “Ugh,” you groaned. “I hated that. I hated the way he talked to you.” You chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

“You aren’t the only one,” Natasha said, and you looked past Yelena as the redhead joined the small group. “Carol beat me to it. I was about to go in there and kick his ass.” You heard Carol laugh behind you, kissing the side of your head. “Are you okay?”

“I’m,” you stopped before you lied to them. “No, but I will be,” you sighed, ending the hug with Yelena. “I think I need a shower, then I’ll start feeling better.”

“Do you want me to join you?” Carol asked. You shook your head.

“I just need a moment by myself,” you smiled. “I’ll be okay, I promise.” As you turned to walk back to your room, Yelena grabbed your hand. Spinning you back around and flipping your arm to show everyone the cut on your arm.

“Your bleeding,” she said, and you pulled your arm back.

“It’s nothing, and it will heal by the time I get in the shower,” you saw the unasked questions from all three of them. “I needed to ground myself when I was in there with him. That’s all. I promise I’m okay, and I’ll come to you guys if I need anything.”

A towel was tightly secured around your body as you stepped out of the bathroom. You hated the way his words crawled underneath your skin. No matter how frequently you scrubbed your skin raw, you felt his hands on you. There was a part of you that wanted to track down his escort van and kill him, to watch his blood stain the pavement. Or maybe have Melina take care of it. But you knew if one of the Widows took the job, it would get traced back to you. Still wet from the shower, you sat on your bed and picked up your phone. The number you dialed wasn’t saved in your phone. It was a number you had memorized as Widows kept giving it to you. She answered on the second ring. “My favorite Black Widow,” she said. “What do I owe the pleasure? Have you considered my offer?” You sighed.

“No, Valentina, I’m still not joining your team. I need a favor.” You were speaking as you could hear cars driving by.

“I’m not a charity, darling. Favors will cost you/” You nodded.

“I know, and I’m willing to pay for it,” you stood up and walked into your closet. “I need to put on a hit. His name is Andrei Lebedev. He is currently in SHIELD custody and on his way to the RAFT. I need it done without using any of the Widows you have employed, and not a single agent hurt.” Valentina laughed.

“You are making a lot of demands for someone not in charge,” you dropped the towel and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.

“I always repay my debts, you know this?” This wasn’t the first time you’ve asked a favor from her. Her contacts ran deeper than Melina’s, and in this world, information was valuable. But you knew she would do it and come back to you when she needed something. The Widows that worked for her always told you what they did. You had enough dirt to bury the director, but it would hurt your fellow Widows.

“This will cost you, but I’ll get it done.”

“Thank you.”

“Aw, don’t go getting soft on me,” you rolled your eyes. “My offer is always on the table for you. That will never expire,” you huffed.

“Bye, Valentina.” You hung up the phone before she could respond. You refused to join her every time she asked, even when she proclaimed how much money you could make with your skill set. You feared it would be impossible to say no to her one day.

Two days passed when Maria announced that Andrei Lebedev was killed; no agents were hurt in the ambush. The agent’s eyes never left yours when she told everyone the news. Maybe it was bad you didn’t care if she believed you or not when you claimed you had no part in his death—effortlessly passing blame to whoever helped him. His death was one you never lost sleep over. Like you told Steve, these men were better off dead.

#family is more than blood au #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #carol danvers x y/n #black widow sisters #yelena belova x natasha romanoff x reader #yelena belova x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

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