#shes already going through so much with the legal system
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So ummmm I actually had a fanfiction wip of Athrys hearing of Eramis‘ location and traveling to Sol, only to unfortunately arrive at the same time as the incident that causes Eramis to „always look scorn in the eye“ occurs and well… let’s just say Eramis‘ trauma grows a thousandfold
I do not think I have the strength to write it anymore and I don‘t think we all have the strength to read it with what’s going on in Revenant
#destiny 2#destiny#destiny the game#d2#destiny eramis#eramis and athrys#eramis#destiny athrys#destiny revenant#destiny fanfiction#every time I think about writing it I can feel nezarec take over my body#poor eramis#shes already going through so much with the legal system#destiny revenant spoilers#destiny spoilers#tagging just in case#torturing the old crab lady psychologically like she thought the therapist was doing#i love revenant so much though ughhhhhhhh#also fuck the witness once more#fuck its big ass eyes and what it did to eramis#wicked evil malicious entity
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Need to go on a rant about the feudal system (more specifically manorialism) and Gideon the Ninth (spoilers through Harrow the Ninth ahead)
Gideon is very specifically described as living in a feudal system in the Ninth house. She is a Serf. She lives and serves under a ruler, she has specific legal, social, and economic obligations to the House and its ruler as a result of this system.
Feudalism exists within a specific sociopolitical context. It’s not equivalent to slavery, though it can appear that way to a modern audience. Muir wouldn’t have picked the term “serf” to describe Gideon if she didn’t mean it, or if she meant something else (such as slavery or indentured servitude)
Serfdom is not ownership of an individual, like in slavery. It’s more like an intense landlord/employee relationship, if we’re looking for a modern touch point. A serf is bound to the land they live and work on because they are a valuable source of labor. They owe labor, goods, or a payment in equivalency to, the lord who runs the lands they are bound to. If they want to go elsewhere, they have to pay back the lord for what labor/goods they won’t be providing anymore, and the lord could refuse them.
Because this is also a reciprocal relationship, the lord also has certain responsibilities to the serfs, including protection, the maintenance of the law, and maintenance of the lands. The lord runs their holdings as ruler, but also can’t just do whatever they want. This is a social, economic, and political system, if people didn’t like it or benefit from it and had the capability to do so, they would rebel.
(Sorry for this long tangent. It’s important to set context and also discuss this history. Feudalism/Manorialism looked different in different places and times, and originally came from Roman villa systems, but this post is already long enough)
So what does this have to do with the locked tomb?
Gideon is a serf, very explicitly. She is also a ward, which puts her into an interesting spot when it comes to legal and financial responsibilities. This means she owes labor and fealty to the Ninth, essentially in repayment for raising her.
When she tries to head to the Cohort, she would otherwise be allowed to do that as a free citizen of the Ninth House. But, she has prior responsibilities to the House as a serf, so she would need the Lord’s (Harrow’s) permission to do so. Despite these obligations, she is not required to do any particular jobs in the Ninth. She is not forced to be a nun, or to do labor. From what is described, it seems like she’s relatively left to her own devices.
In a system of slavery, Gideon would be forced to enact specific labor, to learn a specific trade, and to generally do whatever the fuck Harrow or the Reverend family wanted. But she’s not.
Again, Gideon can train to join the cohort as much as she wants. She can lock herself in her room and avoid people as much as she wants. She can avoid prayers or choose to go to them. She can do what she wants, but she is not allowed to leave to take her labor elsewhere without authorization, because of her legal and financial obligations in this sociopolitical system.
Ortus puts it very well in Harrow: he must follow her orders and fulfill the responsibilities he socially is obligated to fulfill, but when he lays his head down at night he is allowed to feel however he wants about himself and his actions, he is still a free person. Ortus is in a slightly different situation as his position at birth obligates him to be Harrow’s Cavalier, as opposed to Gideon who is in a lower social position and is the only option left, but he still owes a large amount of loyalty and labor to the Ninth House.
(Sorry again this is so long. I repeat myself quite a bit. But I saw someone say that Gideon is Harrows slave and that is a misconception that brushes over a lot of the complexities of the books. The relationship is complicated and full of social dynamics that we don’t see as modern readers because there are so many layers that require historical context. This is also not a defense of the feudal system or to say that their relationship isn’t toxic. It is. But that’s a different post)
#the locked tomb#gideon the ninth#harrow the ninth#harrow the ninth spoilers#harrowhark nonagesimus#gideon nav#ortus nigenad#feudalism#manorialism#historical context is fucking important my guys#tasmuir is using very specific parallels to the real world#tlt meta#rants n rambles#gideon the ninth spoilers
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Arrested I. [Lando Norris x reader] 16+
Just testing the waters here, trying to find out how far the madness can go. description: You get arrested and Lando bails you out. warnings: I’m relatively sure the legal system doesn’t work this way, but I was never arrested before. Also, some bad words. Lando is a little angry.
Lando huffed as he opened his mailbox. So many unread emails again. He’d been procrastinating reading them for a while now until his manager sent him a rather angry warning. Usually, his manager took care of his emails, but some of them Lando had to answer.
His phone rang on the kitchen table, and he glanced at the screen. Then he frowned. It was a number not saved, which wasn’t anything unnatural, but this one was his private phone. This number only a handful of people knew, and he had each one of them saved. He contemplated for a moment whether he should pick it up or not, but then his gut instinct won, and he swiped the green button.
“Hey,” he greeted quickly, not really knowing what to say. He didn’t want to tell his name in case it was someone he didn’t know, and he didn’t even like making phone calls either.
“It’s Officer David Martin calling from the Monaco Police Department. Am I speaking with Lando Norris?” A male voice asked.
Lando’s eyes widened, and the words were caught in his throat for a moment. The police? His thoughts immediately rushed from you being injured to this being a prank call.
“Sir, are you there?��� The officer spoke after he didn’t get a response, and Lando realized he had forgotten to answer.
“Yeah, it’s me, I’m here.” He pushed away his laptop and leaned his elbows on the table.
“Your partner is under arrest for damage to property of high value. If I understood correctly, you are Y/N Y/L/N’s closest family here?” The officer continued.
Lando fell silent again.
“Sir?”
“I’m sorry but what? What do you mean? What property?” He frowned as he was trying to put the pieces together. There must have been a mistake.
“She damaged someone’s car, and the owner reported her,” the officer sighed, sounding as if he had this conversation too many times in his career.
“Jesus Christ,” Lando muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is the owner pressing charges?”
“He already did,” the officer answered.
Lando sighed. He was frustrated and just... Confused? He was confused and he still couldn't quite understand what could have been going on in your head. He knew you had a short temper, but usually just stuck to him and friends, so why on earth were you damaging someone's car?
“Did she tell you why?” He asked, not knowing better.
“No, she didn’t. I’m not here to chat with her.” The officer sounded a little pissed now.
“Okay, okay,” Lando said, running a hand through his hair, trying to remain calm. “What’s gonna happen now? I mean, do I have to pick her up or something? Or is she staying overnight?”
“She'll have to pay for the damage and we're estimating a year behind bars for her,” the officer answered.
“Jesus...” Lando's heart dropped. “A year?!”
He swallowed hard, rubbing his face with one hand, trying to wrap his head around what he had just been told. He never thought he would have to deal with his girlfriend being arrested.
“Yes, a year.”
Lando couldn't help but chuckle hopelessly. “A year... For how much damage? Like, how can you go to jail for a year for damaging a car?” He was baffled. Surely, you couldn't stay in jail for a whole ass year?
“Four hundred thousand Euros, sir.”
For a second Lando thought he misheard him. “Four hundred...” He trailed off, furrowing his eyebrows. “Four hundred thousand Euros? What does this guy own? A goddamn Bugatti?”
“A Rolls-Royce.”
Lando's eyebrows raised once more. “And the car is worth four hundred thousand?” He asked in disbelief. “Was it brand new or- Vintage or something?”
“Sir, are you a mechanic planning to repair it, or why are you so interested in the details right now?” The officer was obviously not in a patient mood today, but Lando couldn’t care less. His girlfriend was fucking arrested.
“No, I just-“ He wanted to retort something smart, but then he changed his mind. This whole situation was absolutely ridiculous. A year in jail and four hundred thousand Euros damage for a goddamn car? That seemed ridiculous, but what did Lando know? “Nevermind, sorry.”
“Sir, she didn’t just accidentally break it. She did it on purpose and the damage is huge,” the officer sighed.
“I get it, I get it,” Lando said, feeling a headache coming in. The thought that you purposefully destroyed someone's car for reasons he didn't know still baffled him, but he figured a year in jail and four hundred thousand in damages meant you were probably mad at something? It took a lot for you to get so worked up.
“Will she be released on bail?” Lando inquired after another deep sigh, trying to calm himself down and think.
The officer was quiet for a minute. “Four hundred thousand Euros is just the damage itself. Where would she have all the money for the bail besides that?”
“I'll pay for it,” Lando said without thinking. The money was nothing to him, he could afford it, and there was no way he was leaving you in jail.
“You would?” The officer sounded dumbfounded.
“Yes, of course,” Lando said, already mentally calculating what it'd cost. It was a high price, but if it meant that you would be out of jail without having to spend a year in prison, he was more than happy to pay. “When can I talk to her?”
The officer sighed. “Can you be here in 30 minutes?”
“Yes, I will be there in 15,” Lando said, immediately standing up from the table. The stupid emails could wait.
“Great. See you around.”
“See you,” Lando said shortly and hung up, stuffing his phone into his pocket. His hands were trembling slightly. A year behind bars and four hundred thousand in damages... A part of him was still trying to wrap his head around it.
It was a 15 minutes’ drive to the police station but with the number of red lights and speed cams in the area, it took Lando a bit longer. He got out of the car and hurried into the building, heading straight for the reception.
“Hey, I'm Lando Norris,” he told the officer sitting behind the counter, slightly out of breath. “I'm here for my girlfriend?” He didn't know when the sentence would ever sound normal.
The officer checked the computer system with a few taps on the keyboard. “Ah, yeah,” she said and stood up. “Follow me.”
Lando did so and suddenly got nervous about the whole situation. Just forty minutes ago, he was sitting in his kitchen, focusing on his work, and now he was here, bailing out his girlfriend.
The officer stopped in front of a door and opened it for Lando. "She's in here," she said.
Lando swallowed hard and took a deep breath, calming his nerves down as best he could. "Thank you," he said, before stepping through the door.
You were there, handcuffed to a table, heavily arguing with an officer. Your eyes were on fire. “Let me go, for fucks sake!” you yelled.
Lando froze in his spot for a moment, watching you screaming at the officer. He had never seen you like this - so wild and fiery, with a certain gleam of madness in your eyes. He quickly shook his head and took a deep breath, walking over to you. "Hey," he said gently, and your head snapped towards him instantly.
“What are you doing here?” you snapped.
"What does it look like? I'm here to bail you out,” Lando said, sitting down in the chair opposite of you. He knew this wasn't the time for an argument.
"Madam, you must take the drug test, it's not up to your decision," the officer in the room continued.
“I will not!” you yelled. “I told you hundred fucking times that I’m not on anything!”
Lando sighed and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his messy hair. This whole situation was just one big headache. "Just take the damn test, Y/N. You're already in enough trouble as it is.”
You stared at him angrily. “Leave.”
Lando frowned. "What?" He asked in surprise. Did you just tell him to leave? "No."
“Leave!” you screamed again and punched the table with your fist.
“My god, Y/N-“ Lando leaned forward. “Stop acting like a damn child! You're facing a year in prison. This is a serious situation!"
"I will not be there for a year," you scoffed. "That's not fair."
"Yeah? Well, it's the reality of it," Lando retorted. "Destroying four hundred thousand Euros worth of property is not fair either."
"Madame, this is the last time I'm asking, take the drug test otherwise that one year will quickly become two," the officer was angry now.
Lando frowned at the officer's words and looked from him to you who were glaring at the guy with defiance in your eyes. He knew you were stubborn, but could you seriously be that stupid and risk a higher sentence just because you were refusing a drug test?
"Y/N," he said softly, a warning tone in his voice. "Just take the damn test."
“Why?” you argued. “I’m not a junkie!”
Lando clenched his jaw, frustrated beyond measure and at a loss for words. It was like talking to a brick wall. "No, you're not,” he said patiently. "So, prove that you're not, okay? Just take the goddamn test."
You scrunched your eyes and took a deep breath. "This is ridiculous. Okay, I will take it but then you'll let me go. That guy deserved everything."
Lando furrowed his eyebrows once again and shook his head with a sigh. "Oh, he did, didn’t he? Did you happen to forget that this "guy" just lost four hundred thousand Euros because you were probably out of your mind on something?”
"He's rich anyway," you rolled your eyes. Meanwhile, the officer unlocked your handcuffs from the table.
Lando rubbed a hand over his face at your words, desperately willing himself not to yell at you. Your nonchalance with the whole situation made him angry. "That's beside the point. Look, I don't care if he's a billionaire or if he can just afford to buy a new car with the change he finds under his sofa, you can't go around damaging people's property! You broke the goddamn law!"
The officer led you away, then he returned to the room where Lando was still trying to comprehend the whole situation. He had a notebook and a pen in his hand. He slid a piece of paper in front of Lando. "So, if the test comes back negative this is the total. The damage and the bail."
Lando looked up briefly at the officer before his gaze fell back to the paper. His eyes widened with each number he read. "Alright, I hope this season goes well then," he muttered to himself.
"Good luck," the officer nodded. "My daughter is a huge fan of yours. I know this is an awkward situation, but could you sign this for her?" Then he slid an empty piece of paper in front of Lando.
Lando scoffed. "Jesus, this is the weirdest situation I've ever encountered..." He looked from the officer to the piece of paper, shaking his head softly as he took the pen and signed his name on the paper.
"Thank you. You can have your partner back in about an hour." The officer stuffed the autograph in his pocket. “Now I’m going to ask you to make the payment.”
Lando signed and paid everything he had to, slowly slipping into a state of surrender. The officer put everything into a folder and looked back at Lando.
"We’re done here. You can wait by the reception. We have a coffee vending machine," the officer added.
If this situation wasn't so serious, Lando would have laughed at the officer's words. Waiting by the reception for his girlfriend to get out of jail after getting caught destroying a car. It sounded like the beginning of a bad movie.
Lando nodded. "Alright, thanks.” He got up from the chair and headed towards the reception area, thinking about how the hell you got yourself into this mess in the first place. You sure will need a good explanation after all of this.
The officer behind the reception desk looked up at Lando as soon as he entered the room. "I will hand you the criminal's belongings if you don't mind."
Lando raised his eyebrows at the woman's words. "Criminal? You mean my girlfriend?" He asked, his voice taking on a slightly defensive tone.
"She committed a crime. She is a criminal," the woman nodded as she handed Lando a plastic bag.
Lando was tempted to point out that the word sounded quite harsh, but he refrained from doing so. He accepted the bag and sat down on one of the waiting chairs. When you were finally released, he could hear your voice way before he saw you.
"See, I told you I wasn't on anything! Female rage, that's what they call it," you argued.
Lando's eyes zeroed in on you as soon as you entered the room, and he quickly got up from his seat. He tried to look stern and serious, but he was so relieved to see you, unharmed. "Shut the hell up, for Christ's sake," he said as you approached him.
"I just have to prove my point," you crossed your arms.
Lando rolled his eyes. "And in the process piss off every officer around you, right? I think your point is proven already by the mess you made. Let’s go home. And I hope you’ve got a good excuse for all of this."
"You bet I do," you mumbled.
"Oh yeah, I’m thrilled to hear it," he retorted, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “I just paid a huge amount of money, so you won’t get locked up for a year, damn it. What has gotten into you?”
As he led you to his car, he wondered if you would destroy his collection as well if you ever got into a serious argument. He didn’t want to find out.
find part two here
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I will be the one to say it, wherever we like this side conclusion or not, she dug this pit herself and Iskall provided the shovel
I've heard speculations of their relationship being a much closer than it appears online, and her deleting her channel to hide any trace of her involvement or his involvement while still keeping the comment on Iskall's channel is the nail in the coffin
The only thing that she has on her Channel right now is 36 comments that the majority tie back to Iskall in some way.
And additionally, I'd personally say it's come to a point of devotion and compassion for each other rather than what a normal "relationship" should be
And I want you all to keep in mind that if Stress isn't Iskall's "long-term girlfriend", then there is a woman out there who found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her with multiple of his employees and also possibly including his female best friend because of the amount of devotion they have to each other
But if Stress is the "long-term girlfriend", then this was a clear act of both devotion or she's been hit with trains worth of clarity and realization but I doubt this is the case because the comment is still up
And there was no single threat in her replies
YouTube's AI detection system will automatically delete replies with a threatening nature of that go against community guidelines before the person sees the reply.
Meaning that at the most cleverly worded insults have slipped through the hundreds of common worth of "You're so goated" and "Miss you too" and "We support you too" (update to make sure this was accurate I just checked it this than two minutes before this post and it is indeed compliments)
90% of her replies a positivity. And a couple months ago I even gave her the benefit of the doubt and said not to speculate on her situation because we didn't know any better. Aka even people who were skeptical like me and many others treats it her with integrity and dignity open till that reply was posted
I cannot speak on whether or not Iskall has gotten the threats he claims, but I always encouraged to not leave death threats, so I would imagine that it's a handful of people who do not have a life
But I could say with Confidence that if she got more than 8 threats, which is still not good but is a less considering the circumstances and general uncontrollable public, I would be mind-blown
So I'm very confident in the notion that she did this out of either realization to which I hope it is, and I hope for her community she seeks professional help because that level of devotion is unhealthy makes a steady bouncy back after some time OR it's another act of devotion
Because if he's in a legal case regarding this issue it is commonly advised to remove any incriminating evidence from social media so that it cannot be used against you; and it would be easy to argue their relationship based purely on her videos. Making the deletion of her channel an act of devotion rather than general clarity hitting her
Which is sad. I've never personally watched Many of Her videos only 30 at the most, but the general consensus of disappointment rather than anger putting her Direction leads me to conclude this is out of character behavior for her. And this would reinforce Iskall's repeated manipulation attempts.
It would mean his manipulation is effective and working.
The only possible way I could ever see people generally being outraged at her is if she was in on it too but that has already been confirmed by many of the victims they were unaware that she was also leaving, and were unaware of her general support.
This or will you find out that she's financially contributing to his legal case, to which I would argue the money would be better spent on therapy
But it just seems that she's digging herself into a pit or into a self destructive montage of being in support of someone who does not deserve it
#TLDR: bit mad but more so disappointed#mcyt#hermitcraft smp#hermitcraft#hermitcraft iskall#iskall85#iskall situation#hermitcraft stress#stressmonster101
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Despite her own, very public advice against it, Yuna Rochester found herself walking home alone just a few nights afterwards. It had happened nearly before she'd registered what was going on; one moment she, Tim, and a small handful of her boyfriend's friends had been drinking at Oliviera's Speakeasy, laughing and chatting as they enjoyed the legal "illegal" ambiance and drinks, and the next she found herself stumbling down the darkened street, crowds nearly nonexistent at the late-- she checked her phone. 3:22 a.m. Fuuuuuck. She was getting wellness checked tomorrow-- today for sure. In the warm, floaty, hazily happy space her mind was in, worrying too much about that was impossible. Yuna had made it through those before, independence intact. Things were going to be fiiiine. She was fiiiiiiiine. Better than fine, even, with the amount of xeno-infused booze in her system.
She hiccupped, and her breath swam with jasmine and thyme. It was an intoxicating blend, custom made by Oliviera herself to ornament her subterranean bar. Had she really been drinking with Rod and the others for five hours? And why was she on her own? She racked her memory, but it was like trying to find puzzle-pieces in luminous amber, and her mind just seemed to slide right off of them. For her troubles, the curb veered towards her and she narrowly avoided tripping over it, cursing. How rude of it! Yuna gave it a kick. Dumb sidewalk. That made her giggle, but she had enough presence of mind to realize that she probably needed to get directions home.
Yuna reached for her phone, and had a momentary flash of panic to find that it wasn't in her pocket. Fuck. Had she left it at the Speakeasy? If so, Olive would probably deliver it by hand while being gently flirtatious, marvel of a bartender that she was. She was the only affini Yuna really respected, liked even, and her establishment had was one of the few places that never felt like it was designed to coax her into a collar. There was a reason Tim and his friends had taken to drinking there. Unlocking the phone in her hand, she navigated to telecom app and selected Olive's name before pausing. Sparks of anxiety and something more flashed through her gut. It was never a good idea to be too cute and helpless around an affini, even one you trusted, unless you were aiming for a wardship at the very least. But-- Olive was different. Her eyes that always seemed to contain the suspicion of a smile, the quips that felt almost subversive amidst Compact dogma, the perpetually smoldering incense-vines she had growing from herself. Stars. She was safe but exciting, comforting but still razor sharp. Yuna would be lying to herself if she'd never wondered what it would be like to--
Oh hey! Her phone was right there in her hand! She seized on the realization, the distraction, embarrassing as it was, to free her mind from the routes it HADN'T been going down. Her cheeks felt like they'd caught on fire. Sitting down on the sidewalk to steady herself, she firmly compartmentalized all those fantasies she HADN'T been having from her mind. She was drunk, and the mind wandered while drunk. Everybody knew that. The thoughts didn't mean anything, and besides, her boyfriend Tim would be furious with her for thinking them. She was just drunk. Nothing more.
And far from home. Frosts. She needed to get back quickly. Looking at her phone, the half-hour had already passed. She'd barely moved ten feet in the last eight minutes. With how inebriated she clearly was, it was incredibly fortunate that nobody else was around. Having an affini see her like this would be a nightmare, a disaster, a death-knell to the freedom she'd been learning to value so highly. Standing shakily, she pocketed her phone and stepped forwards.
Directly into a mass of vines. What? Yuna put her hands forward, feeling them. Her mind was struggling to process the input, and, accidentally pushing too hard, she stumbled backwards. A hand(?) shot out, lightning quick, and kept her from bruising her rear on the concrete. It was soft on her back, and she let herself just hang there for a moment, blinking up at the affini silhouetted against a streetlight.
The affini. Fuck. Panic cut through the intoxication in an icy slash, only to be re-consumed by the amber fugue as it closed back in. What remained was still fear, but distant, hazy, nearly incorporeal. She shied away from the figure anyways, turning her body in an attempt to fall from their hand. It merely shifted and retained its grasp.
"Yuna Rochester?" The voice was musical, melodious, laced with a firmness that brooked no defiance. However much amusement flowed from the delivery, it left no doubt that the figure knew exactly who they were.
Yuna blinked, frozen, mouth opening and closing wordlessly. Implications and anxieties tried to pile up, only to sink into the bubbling, drugged froth of her mind. The affini smiled down at the sight, a friendly mask cloaking its predatory intent.
"My name is Wisteria Salashi, Fourth Bloom, she/they. We've met once before."
The dots began connecting in Yuna's mind. It wasn't a quick process. Fuck. Wait. "You're the- the one who got Andy!" Her friend had been domesticated just over a month prior, ensnared by this very affini. Their personal connection suddenly made the interaction feel far more dangerous. She began squirming, thrashing, trying to break free. The affini just flashed her thorny teeth, mask dissolving as the grin extended entirely too far along her face.
"So she does recognize me. I was worried Oliviera had sent you to me with your mind fully gone." Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait. Olive had- "Which would have made things a tiny bit easier, but much less fun for me." Fuck. Wisteria drew closer, her face inches from Yuna's. Ginger assaulted her sinuses, and Yuna turned her head away from Wisteria's brilliant eyes. This was bad. This was really bad. "Awww, so adorable. You're still trying to resist." Her voice hissed through the rows and rows of teeth, fake breath cool across Yuna's cheek. "I thought you knew that 'If an affini decides that it wants you, it is already too late.'"
Yuna's own words. Her own post. She'd read them so many times over the past days as the responses and reposts had come in. People thanking her. People teasing and mocking her, or saying they'd follow it in reverse. The post being temporarily removed by the affini site admins, before being put back up as "an example." She should have expected something like this. She HAD expected something like this, before- before-
Olive had persuaded her to stay late, prepared her special drinks to help with the anxiety, convinced the others that she'd make sure Yuna got home safely. They had all trusted her. Helplessness and betrayal boiled through Yuna's chest, welling up in a tidal wave that threatened to drown her. It too was swallowed by the drugged ditzyness, but with it went every drop of resistance she might have once mustered. There was no hope. She had lost. Like Andy, and Molly, and so many others. The words of Rodrigo, one of Tim's friends, flitted through her mind. 'We're just wayward property to them,' he'd said. 'With no real rights or moral value.' At the time, she'd found it a little too... feralist for her tastes. Now she realized he'd been right.
At the shake of a vine, she would become property. Yuna whimpered at the thought, trembling. Her fight was gone. Wisteria looked almost disappointed. "You terrans break too quickly for my tastes," she spoke, almost confessionally. "I'd hoped that someone involved in a feralist pack would be able to take a little bit more. So much for the 'indominable human spirit,' or whatever it is you free terranists believe." Yuna whimpered again, shifting to try and bury her face against the hand holding her.
Wisteria sighed. "You are undeniably adorable, though." Her other hand gently lifted to stroke Yuna's head, vines and feathery tendrils flowing out through her hair, kneading her scalp. It felt incredible, especially with whatever Olive had put into her system. She felt to drugged and broken to not let herself enjoy it at least a little, even while shying away from the terrifying affini form. Wisteria hummed softly with a level of contentment.
"I'm not going to domesticate you, little acorn. Oliviera would scold me if I did, and the NFPO knows you just fell into a rough crowd. We're not after you." Wisteria's tone was conciliatory, if patronizing. For some reason, that comforted her.
"You're not?" Frosts, somehow she felt small again, like she'd been caught breaking some rule and been forgiven. Another vine snaked up and wiped away the tears she didn't realize she'd been crying.
Yuna's mind was still fuzzy and overwhelmed, but a spark of hope had reignited. Her fears weren't coming to pass. Looking up, she found that Wisteria had pulled back, softened her features once again. A glimmer of disappointment still remained in her eyes, but her visage was nearly apologetic. Maybe she would let her go? Maybe Yuna had a way out?
"Of course not, my fragile girl. Oliviera is. I'm just here to turn you into an unwitting double agent, because it'll be so much more fun to break your feralist friends slowly!"
She was too tired for the icy fear to make much of a dent this time, to be phased by the gleam that returned to Wisteria's eyes. The spark had been quenched. Her chest trembled once again, tears threatening the corners of her eyes. But Olive's xenodrugs helped take care of that too. They'd probably been designed to, Yuna realized idly, apathetically. How kind of her. At that thought, the apathy burst into a little giggle. Here she was, situation hopeless, about to be turned against her friends by alien invaders, irrevocably drawn into a tangled jungle of affini schemes, and there was nothing she could do about any of it. A golden bubble of despairing mirth began to grow in her abdomen, fueled by the carbonated surrender swirling through her system. At least it wouldn't be a mean affini like Wisteria who got her. That thought prompted another giggle, the absurdity of the thought compounding on itself.
Wisteria watched her with an expression of profound amusement. This didn't seem to be the reaction she had hoped for, but it wasn't an unpleasant one for the affini. She shook her head, a far nicer smile drawing across her face. "Seems like Oliviera has you well in hand, even without a collar on you yet. But it's getting late, and it would be irresponsible for me to keep you much longer." Yuna felt a quick pinching sensation in their side, and the last thing they knew was a glorious numbness and the gleam of Wisteria's eyes.
Yuna Rochester woke up in her bed the next day, head still hazy from sleep. Her alarm clock was blaring, and she stared at it blearily, far too tired. How late had she gotten home? On her desk she saw a handwritten note, pinned underneath a glass of something the colour of honey. She chugged it without thinking, and a wave of cool, refreshing alertness swept through her body, driving sleep away. Little sparking bubbles of pleasure blipped in and out of her muscles, an aftereffect of tingling joy. She sighed, stretching her back and reaching for the paper. It was from Olive. Her cheeks flushed.
Good morning, sleepy head! I couldn't leave the Speakeasy last night (you know how it is! always busy) so had a friend take care of you. Apologies for keeping you so late, but you seemed like you were enjoying yourself. Hope the drink helps. P.S. Feel free to come back any time! Even without your friends! It was great chatting with you ;)
Yuna clutched the letter to her chest, and committed to do just that.
#human domestication guide#affini#hdg#my posts#yuna reappears!#as does Wisteria!#with andy and mol mentioned!#not everything is gonna be tied together but theres quite a bit#havent even introduced most of the SFT yet
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Castles Crumbling
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R
Natasha x Wanda / Others
Valkyrie x F!R
Royal AU Request | Natasha never was a fan of rules, so when sets were placed upon her love she pushed against them… Now she wonders if it’s too late to make it right again. | WC: 7,550
Warning: “Unrequited” Love | Jealousy | Mean Fuckboy Natasha / Sad R | Abusive Parents / Fucked Systems | HE!
Smut: Virgins (In various ways) | Mommy (R) | Oral (R) | Strap (N) | Degradation | Unorthodox “BJ” (🤷🏼♀️)
Minors DNI | 18+
“Natalia, keep your chin up," Melina scolded her daughter who was too busy glaring across the ballroom to even acknowledge her mother fixing up her gown. The strap had suddenly tethered, if not for Melina's resourcefulness she'd have had to hold an apology in front of the kingdom for her daughter, the heiress to the throne's, albeit unintentional, lack of modesty.
Natasha's eyes stayed trained on you, who was giggling at a slightly older woman's words. You were her fiancée, yet there you stood enraptured by another's presence as if they hung the moon and stars for you.
———
The redhead had no throne to sit upon though, she very well knew that, this unbearable distance forged between soulmates was one she herself created half a decade ago. She'd regretted it from the start, living without your love was lonely, and in this moment she felt the regret double at the thought of losing you fully.
You were once hers, exclusively so...
The two of you were the best of friends until she found out the intense love she held for you wasn't meant to be organically woven. Instead, the two of you'd already been signed up for a life together, something she should have seen as a gift, but the idea that you were only ever going to be hers due to legalities broke her.
To think, had she and Yelena been born in reverse that it'd be a much different fate. The redhead loathed the idea that such a system would exist in the first place and vowed to never place that pressure on your kids.
The kids she now wondered if you'd still share...
Natasha, in her state of grief has been blinded to the familiar turmoil you'd also experienced. It had gutted you when your parents said you were in line to marry the Romanov's heir, to keep strong alliances between your Kingdoms. To have the Romanov name was a dream come true, but to have no say in it upset you just the same. Yet you were ready to live life the same, to continue to fall in love with your supposed destiny and to thank fate for guaranteeing your forever bond.
Natasha regrettably went the other route, letting her resentments fester, and in turn she pushed you away. It wasn't gradual either, you were really confused by the dynamic switch—it was like night to day, and for years you were faced with her venomous demeanor. Animosity that was rooted in falsehoods still hurt just the same, and now you two couldn't be further apart.
Just like the strap of her emerald gown, she worried that the tie between your confused hearts was near to severing. Natasha could actually feel her heart splitting at the thought, she never considered her horrid actions would lead to an eventual permanent loss of you.
But now that she sees the web she's sown she gets it.
For the last five years shortly after you hit puberty, you had to watch as the woman you wholeheartedly adored became a stranger that thrived on promiscuity. To hear about it too as the women of the kingdom never minced words about their nights with her, and with each rendezvous you lost more hope for a joyful forever with her. Natasha buried herself in other woman, and actually thought you'd just wait patiently for her to come back, but clearly you'd grown tired of it.
You once thought it was just a rebellious phase, many heirs to thrones go through them, and you knew Nat was a free spirit. You even understood her want to be free, to see whomever she wanted in her youth. It was a natural curiosity you didn't indulge in though, because your heart only beat for the redhead, but you never asked her not to have explored it. Especially because she was never going to listen if you did. Natasha was headstrong, a natural born leader, not so much a lover.
Well, at least not this version of Natasha. She'd lost her once sweet demeanor with you, every interaction turned tense and abrasive. Natasha used to hold doors open for you, now she was purposeful in closing them. As if she was letting you know that her heart was no longer in sync with yours. She'd shut you out entirely, it was the vindictive nature of it all that really broke you down over time, and lead you to this moment of despair. In your youth she was your greatest hope.
— • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • —
"If he doesn't stop staring at you I will have to gouge his icy blue eye's right out of his skull," your best friend grumbled loud enough for the Barnes boy to hear as you both passed him by. "Natalia!" You shrieked, tiny hand flying to your mouth as you tried to hide your smirk of inappropriate amusement. The older princess smirked as she watched you losing your composure. "You can't just say those things!"
Natasha smirked, the gesture entirely teasing, "Why?"
"It's not ladylike." Natasha grinned even wider at the challenge of your words. "Fuck being ladylike."
Natasha threw her head back as she laughed at the sight of your shocked face. Your eyes wide and mouth comical agape. "Natty, we're royals!" The redhead shrugged, and rebutted lowly, her tone chillingly grave, "Yeah, as is he but he doesn't respect us like we are," then she walked further down to the murky body of running water, you followed her in a rush, but in your hurry you tripped over a rock and fell towards the creek with a fearful squeal.
"Careful now detka," Natasha teased as she caught you with ease, using her body to push you up against a tree to have you upright again, and for a second in time you thought—hoped—she might kiss you. But life was cruel in a way as all she did was assess your face for injury before she slid her clammy hand into yours and guided you over to the bundle of rocks. Careful as she helped you climb up first then she settled behind you and the two of you watched the sunset as you did every Sunday to mark the week's cruel end.
— • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • —
Everything was hectic being the children of royalty, especially for you, but with Natasha at your side it was all okay. The redhead always used to sneak you away to the creek that connected the many kingdoms, to where she'd let you play freely, like a kid should. Then as preteens it just became your spot to get away together.
Now it was where you spent your nights alone, talking to the moon and asking her where it all went wrong.
The redhead used to afford you the space to be your true, wild-child self unlike your parents who were far more strict in comparison to hers. Melina and Alexei held their children to high standards, of course, but they also never prevented them from being children.
Your parents were more akin to royal traditionalists in many ways, they believed children were meant to be seen, never heard. To be flaunted like assets, but never loved by anything outside of the hired help, who did their very best, but it's not like they were treated much better than you. To be given away like chattel, and never acknowledged as a person with free will like the commoners were. To never exist outside of the castle's bounds, a prisoner of the most bleak circumstances.
Natasha was your beacon of peace, she had always cherished your friendship, and held you in the highest of regards. Her biggest goal used to be to make you laugh, she'd tell you stories of Yelena's chaos, and on rare occasions she'd even let the blonde tag along so you could feel true joy. Then all of a sudden she cast you away too, you were obviously hurt by her choices, but even with her sudden animosity towards you you'd never shown her anything but respect and kindness.
Fellow royals called you a pushover, others a hopeless case, but truth be told, there were small cracks in her resolve at times that told you she must've still loved you. It was in the glances she'd cast your way when you were usually preoccupied. You'd always look up just in time to catch the traces of longing before her steely composure returned. She also was insanely protective of your womanhood, as if she had any right to claim it.
Like when the older Stark brother tried to get you to follow him to his quarters one night months back when his family was visiting. The redhead followed your naive form, then just as he went to escort you into his room she'd punched him so hard that his nose cracked, and his once white polo was soaked in crimson.
Before you could question anything she spat, "Don't ever try to sleep with my girl again Tony!" Then before you could savor the warmth of her claim to you she swiftly added her hypocrisy: "It ruins the appearance we must keep up for the public." She was gone in a flash, and you apologized to the man before running off to your quarters to sob over the loss of warmth.
It was a consistent cycle too, every time someone like Danvers, or Barnes tried to court you she was there, dauntingly lingering like a viper prepared to snap. Her gaze was always piercing, and they'd learned quickly to run to avoid needing to be physically removed.
Natasha's promiscuity obviously flourished, while your potential was always curbed at every turn. Not only did you hear the women whispering her praises, but just last week, after a pre-nuptials celebratory dinner with all the neighboring kingdoms you watched her leave the follow up gala with Wanda Maximoff, the gorgeous princess of Sokovia, in a fit of drunken giggles. Her brother, Pietro, was the heir marrying your brother.
You've now reasoned that you two would be entering a loveless marriage (on her end), just like your brother. All in the name of diplomacy you'd reminded yourself this morning, so you believed you'd both have your own partners. Which is why you were finally indulging the vivacious soul of Valkyrie, the shockingly single King from the neighboring kingdom of Asgard. She was beautiful in her own right, incomparable to your hearts muse, but undeniably gorgeous nonetheless.
It never once crossed your mind that Natasha would be fuming, and even if you'd maybe known she would be, you didn't really care anymore. This was the game she started, and you're fed up, so you'll gladly play along.
Why should she get to have all the fun?
Melina gripped her daughter's clenched jaw softly, and sighed in annoyance as she had to forcefully bring her gaze down to face her instead of you. "You did this to yourself Natalia, woman up and face the ugly truth that you alonenpushed your beloved into another's arms."
"Mama," Natasha whimpered pitifully, she always hated how serious and practical her mother could be. Never seeing between the lines, or trying to understand the reasons why. "No, there will be no pity from me, your father might coddle you girls, but you broke Y/N too many times for me to sympathize with you. Now fix your face, and go mingle with your people, Queen."
For the next ten minutes the redhead held her head up high, and conversed with the elders in the crowded room. It was the night before you were to be wed, so of course there was a pre-nuptials party. "Where is your fiancée?" Natasha cast her gaze to the corner you were in moments prior only to find it empty. Her body was actively panicking at the prospect of you slipping out, but she kept her voice steady. "I'm sorry, but please do excuse me. I actually need to go find her, she is really good at getting lost in the ballroom after a drink."
The man nodded sympathetically, and Natasha practically sprinted away from him as she frantically looked around. She nearly tripped over the gowns of the attendees as she haphazardly made her way over to you. Her blood boiled as Valkyrie's hands were holding you close by the hips, your gorgeous, genuine smile on display for a woman who held no claim to you.
Natasha was genuinely near to tears when she saw the way the suave woman whispered something humorous into your ear, making you laugh aloud so freely, with your head thrown back and a hand on her shoulder.
Her heart ached at the memories of all the times it was her making you laugh until you cried. She yearned to go back in time with every step she took to get to you, if she could undo her mistakes she would. Oh would she.
"Sweetheart, we've got incoming," the beautiful woman spun you out, and you saw a flash of red before you were back against her chest. Natasha's jaw clenched just the same as yours, how dare she even consider ruining your moment to move on from her once again.
"Y/N, we need to go mingle with the crowd," Natasha tried to grab your arm to pull you away from Valkyrie, but you roughly shrugged her off. "I'm having fun here Romanov, so you can speak for the both of us, you've done well enough at it so far. Feel free to continue on."
Valkyrie leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek and Natasha quietly growled, "Unhand my fiancée Brunnhilde," to which the older woman merely rolled her eyes before she was whispering in your ear again, "Just go and talk to her Y/N, I'll be right here if you need me sweetheart, but don't let her upset you enough that you cause a scene in front of your parents."
You suddenly remembered your place, and silently parted from the woman with a sad smile that actually broke Natasha's resolve. Valkyrie scoffed as pools of brown met hers of green, "You're wasting a good woman," she shook her head and walked off towards the bar leaving the redhead to stew in her shame.
Seeing you so sad to be left alone with her was jarring, then she saw the evil glare of your fathers and wondered if things had gotten worse since she no longer really knew. She'd left you alone, and if she was right, he likely blamed you for her own promiscuity.
She could hear his morose voice clear as day, "Well, if you were more inclined to put out, she'd have stayed." He was always blunt, and degrading—never kind, and to think she'd given him a reason to hurt your feelings devastated her. She'll never really forgive herself.
But for some reason she hoped you still would as she calmly exited the ballroom, her feet moved faster as soon as the doors blocked the patrons view though. All the redhead wanted was to reach you, and apologize.
"What was that Natasha?" You inquired just as soon as she entered your soon to be shared room. "I mean honestly, you have some nerve staking your claim to me as if you even mean it. I am my own person, and quite frankly Romanov I have needs you don't satisfy!"
It was insane what she said next, the woman should be begging on her knees for your forgiveness, like she had planned, but instead she put her foot in her mouth.
"Please tell me you're still a virgin..." Your eyes went wide, and you rightfully scoffed, "And what if I wasn't? Is that a dealbreaker for you Miss Chastity Belt?"
Natasha's eyes welled with genuine tears that made you melt ever so slightly, apparently the idea that you'd given yourself to another devastated her, even if she was a bit of a hypocrite. You too were reacting like you were unwell, feeling warmth at her weak show of love.
"Y/N, please just answer me..." You rolled your eyes, and shrugged nonchalantly. "No, I am not a virgin."
"Fuck!" Natasha collapsed to her knees, her gown layered around her beautifully yet tragic. This was her worst fear. "With who? I-I, please just tell me now."
You rolled your eyes at the dramatics, as if she had any right to question you like this. Still, seeing her broken hurt you, it was truly unfair to you, and even if it would be embarrassing you reached into your bedside table, and threw a worn down painting, and a strap at her.
Natasha's jaw clenched at the sight of the plastic, wondering who took your innocence with the device, picturing their demise, but then she lost her breath as the painting flipped over to reveal her obvious likeness.
"I-I don't understand Y/N," she spoke softly, her head tilted up and you bit back a smile at seeing the confused, adorable little pout that she wore. "It's called steadfast loyalty Natasha, plus, it's not like you didn't run off every prospect I've ever had over the years."
"Y/N, I," she cut her apology off as she sobbed even harder. You wanted to remain furious, but you could feel her pain reflecting in your heart, so you gently caressed her glistening cheek, and weakly smiled. "Get off the floor Nat." The redhead jumped to her feet in seconds and clumsily crashed into you, making your body stumble backwards until you were flat on the bed with the breathtaking woman hovering. The beautiful image of karma unfolded before you, it hurt your heart to see her sad, but you couldn't deny that the flushed skin and glimmering eyes added a layer of palpable attraction to her overall perfection.
The moment was the perfect time for her to finally kiss you, to break that distance, but she once again missed it as she collapsed and cried against your chest," I-I hear the people talk about me like I'm a monster." Natasha paused as she did her best to contain her devastation, but it was no use as she continued to speak in a cracked voice, "They used to chant my name, but now they all hate me, and I deserve it..."
You sighed, reluctant yet ready to console her, but she just kept going, "I hurt the one person I always vowed to protect." Natasha sobbed, but this one caught in her throat as she choked on the brutal honesty. "Oh God," her position shifted and she pressed her forehead against yours. "I never wanted you to hate me!"
"I do—."
"My love..."
"Natasha..."
"What have I done to us?!"
You groaned in frustration, "Are you done with the dramatics? May I speak now?" Natasha froze then squeaked out an mhm. Seeing her submit so easily nearly made you laugh, but this wasn't the time to tease. This was a time to fix what she recklessly broke, and to ensure she knew that to mend this took effort on her part. "Our foundation is undeniably cracked Natasha, but that doesn't mean we can't rebuild to a place of total equity. Remember that I am your partner, and not some consolation prize you can flaunt. You own my heart, yes, but not my mind or body."
"You still want me?" She asked in shock, and flinched as you sadly met her gaze and sighed, "I'm cursed with the inability to love another." Natasha smiled like a kid who just got out of time out, "So we'll rebuild?" You rolled your eyes and nodded, "Our castles very well crumbled but with time we'll build it even stronger."
"I'm so sorry," she tried, but you hushed her with a finger over her lip, tired of the words and more so ready for the action. "I forgive you, it is enough for me that you sobbed on the floor. What a filthy girl..."
Natasha's cheeks flushed and you once again found yourself amused, she was incredibly shy, and not at all like you'd pictured her to be from all the rumors.
"C-can I kiss you then?" You giggled, then allowed her to do so after a moment of recomposing. It was a bit sloppy, but you didn't mind, because she tasted like heaven. With how tentative she was to deepen the gesture you were under the impression that she wanted to slow down, maybe even wait for the wedding night.
After a moment of reprieve was taken you moved to sit you both up, her body forced to straddle yours so as to not fall off the bed. "Wait, please don't stop," Natasha pleaded, her hands connected behind your neck and suddenly she was that same nervous teen again, the one who ran from her feelings. "You're the one with all the experience here Nat." Natasha gnawed on her lip, and bowed her head in a mix of shame, and sadness. "I never kissed their lips, or let them touch me."
"Wait," you momentarily paused to process, "Are you?"
"I'm a virgin in the ways that count," she admitted with her gaze cast down at your lap to avoid your potential expression of judgement. "Look at me Natalia."
There was no room for disobedience, she knew that she was lucky enough to even have your forgiveness, she wouldn't dare try to test your patience as well. It was difficult, but she lifted her head, and her heart skipped at the sight of your soft expression. She felt silly for ever doubting you'd be kind—of course you would be.
Meanwhile in your chest you could feel the way your heart danced with excitement. Not only did you have a leg up on her with experience—thanks to Maria Hill, who made out with you for hours last fall after you'd drunkenly cried about never being kissed, but you also just found out she'd never been pleased by another. It stung less to know you'd be her one and only lover.
In the ways that count of course...
"I can lead," you smirked at the flash of understanding in her eyes, it was only fair that she knew, and honestly it served her right to not be your first everything. The same way you wouldn't be her first encounter, the way her nails dug into the skin of your neck said she got the message. "Who was it with?" The disappointment laced her tone heavily, even with as many times as she'd laid with another, she regarded a kiss more intimately.
"Why ask a question that will only hurt you Nat?" Natasha's jaw clenched, but she kept her temper at bay, not wanting to sound off like a hypocrite would. "It's important to me detka, I deserve this pain."
You contemplated answering her, but were too smart to fall for the bait. You realized that sweet old Maria deserved protection from your stewing bride to be.
"She is irrelevant, just a maid father had hired," you facetiously admitted, "Said that maybe if I learned how to clean from her that maybe I'd be a good wife... I am honestly not sure how he ever bagged my mother. In what world does a Queen clean the fucking castle?"
Natasha gasped, "Y/N, that's not very ladylike..."
"Fuck being ladylike," you mirrored a fond memory, and she couldn't help but to smile, but her eyes grew sad the longer the silence dwelled. "You've changed."
You nodded. "I had no choice. I had to grow up, and when I did I realized life is nothing short of cruel." Natasha hummed and nuzzled her nose to yours. "Does that bother you Nat, that I'm not the same innocent person? I always thought that was why you left..."
"No," she frantically spoke, "I was just being an idiot, too rebellious for my own good, and your heart being caught in the crossfire is my biggest regret to date."
"Biggest regret, hm?" She nodded. "Any others?" Natasha smiled bashfully, her cheeks turning redder than they already were from the current proximity of your bodies. "Not kissing you before the nth hour."
"I'm that good, huh?" Natasha laughed nervously, and you watched as the woman nibbled on her bottom lip. "It's okay to admit it Natasha, it's just you and me."
The redhead surged forward, her forehead collided with yours but you hadn't the time to care about the pain when her lips sought to devour your very own. You once again found your body pressed into the mattress, but this time her tongue took a calculated risk entering your mouth. Once she passed your lips she froze, the feeling and taste of you absolutely drove her mad, and she felt her underwear growing sticky.
Following a natural flow you found your naked bodies were soon pressed together, with your back against the queen sized mattress. Natasha's mind went blank at the feel of you, so she let you take over the kiss that had divulged more so into your collective sharing of breaths as you ground her pelvis down into your own with two firm hands on her silky smooth hips.
Natasha pulled away from your lips with a groan, her back arched and pressed her wetness into yours as she desperately craved more friction against her core. You were ready to grind her hips at a more brutal pace, but then she pressed your hands into the bed and kissed you roughly instead. There was no way she'd be selfish enough to take pleasure before giving you some first.
Her lips naturally traveled down your body, and with each nip of her teeth, or suckle to your bare skin she managed to pull the sweetest of moans from you. It drove her even crazier, her arousal literally dripped onto the sheets beneath her body but she kept her focus solely on you. To taste you was a dream that she had never let go of, and she'd no longer squander.
"Holy shit," you cried as her deft tongue lapped up the moisture that had collected along the slit of your core, it was the softest of stimulation but you still writhed. Having her mouth on your pussy just felt prophetic, her name dripping from your lips like a stolen prayer as she proceeded to dive her muscle deep within you.
Explore as you have, you'd never made yourself feel half as good as her animalistic tongue was doing, which was a bittersweet notion since this was where her obvious experience became a lingering thought.
The sadness dissipated fast though as she tipped your body into a state of unnerving pleasure, your body felt both hot and cold at the same time. The chill in the air had highlighted the beads of sweat on your skin, and sent a sharp shiver down to the base of your spine. It was all too much, and yet, somehow it was not enough.
Natasha greedily slurped up your cum, it was like she couldn't leave her place between your legs until you had stopped spilling for her, which consequently never happened because she continued to overstimulate you. It was only when your hand fought to slip from her weakened grasp to shove her bobbing head away that you were finally able to shakily intake some oxygen.
"I need more," she groaned, her wild eyes bore into your own as she hovered over you in a split second. Even with the overstimulation your thigh clenched at the sight of her hunger. "Please, I need you."
In a moment inspired by pure adrenaline you flipped your bodies and jumped off the bed onto wobbly legs. Natasha grunted as her back hit the mattress, her body was soon propped up onto her elbows so she could find out where you'd gone to in the blink of an eye. Only for her to be met with the glorious sight of you slipping a side of the strap between your puffy, cream coated lips.
Natasha fell back on the bed with a raspy groan being torn from her throat as the deliciously sinful image was permanently etching itself into her mind. Her entrance pulsed with need, warm slick trailed down between the plump cheeks of her ass and she whimpered for you. You clumsily climbed above her, and pressed your lips to hers, feeling this strong urge to take control, but not knowing exactly how to do that, all you could really do was slip your tongue into her mouth and kiss her into a state of desperation. Her tongue was velvety, and tasted like a mix of something sweet and bitter.
"I-I want to taste you too Nat," you confessed, a bit too intrigued by the taste of you on her tongue to hold any patience, but the redhead also couldn't wait. "After, please, I need you inside now detka, I'm dripping!"
You chuckled softly, "That's a virgin hole angel," your eyes sparkled as you watched her skin flush even more, you would've happily waited the rest of the decade for this if you knew she was going to be so easily flustered. "You have to let me build you up to the stretch," you teased her hole with just the tip and she winced, but before you could pull away she firmly gripped your shoulders and gulped down her fear. "I can take it detka, I've been waiting for so damn long, fuck me."
"Beg," you flatly said, an air of confidence to you that the redhead found alarmingly attractive. "Tell me what you want baby, let mommy give you what you need."
Natasha's entire mind blanked, her eyes frozen in place as she stared up at your smirking face. Something inside of her was clicking, and she didn't know if it was her own desires or seeing you living out yours that got her so hot right now, but she didn't care. The sudden confidence radiated off of you and oozed out of her cunt, her pussy slick enough to push your strap out.
"Mommy please," her nails dug into your flesh and she angrily yanked your face down to hers, the tip and then some of your strap nestled back inside of her and she moaned her own interruption against your cheek. "I, fuck, mommy I need to be full, please, I need it so —."
Natasha's breath hitched as you delicately circled your fingers around her clit, then she huffed the air against your smirk as she sucked even more of you in. It was messy, and loud as her cunt sobbed joyously and her moans echoed throughout the master bedroom. In only five seconds did you have the ability to slip the rest of it inside of her, your lips sloppily landed on her chin as the strap perfectly curved against your walls. A gasp of joy left you both as your slippery cunts kissed, flaps rubbing as the both of your hips jolted in need.
Natasha's eyes rolled as your clit brushed hers, and a low rumble sounded in her chest as the swollen nub was electrified by the merest of grazes. The redhead appreciated the way your hips stilled, allowing her to feel out the stretch of her walls, but then you didn't move and her eyes fluttered open to ponder why.
You were nervous... Her heart absolutely melted.
"Just do what feels natural," she rasped, hands raising to cup your cheeks and pull you in for a needy kiss, her fingers slipped into the base of your hair and tugged, you could feel the urgency rolling off of her as her hips canted off the mattress. You both moaned into the other's mouth, it took you a second to recover from the stimulation; to build your confidence back up so you could properly fuck her like no one ever had before.
All it took was one involuntary twitch of your own hips, she moaned and you suddenly knew how to make this the best night of your lives. Natasha whined as you slid out of her, but then she squealed as you yanked her to the edge of the bed and thrusted right back into her.
"Oh god," Natasha cried, "Mommy it feels so good."
"I know baby," you panted, "Mommy loves feeling you, so wet I didn't even need to prep you for my cock."
Natasha's eyes rolled and slammed shut as she thought of what created the glorious mess between her legs; you—the way you moaned her name, how you tasted and what she wouldn't do to live between your thighs.
"I-I," Natasha couldn't speak, the pleasure building inside of her was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Something she knew she'd only ever feel with you, heat spread from the depths of her pelvis to her heart as she imagined getting a second chance to love you, fairly.
You'd been here before, on the precipice of a release you weren't expecting. Your first time, when you used your strap with her portrait was a tad bit messy.
It felt like you were on fire, and like you needed to pee, but even with the potential of such a thing you couldn't stop the thrust of your desperate hips. It was heavenly. You wanted to see her wait, but not as much as you needed to be the reason she thinks she's dying. So you knew by the confused look on her face that she needed to be given permission. "You need to let go baby."
Natasha whimpered, but her body turned down the offer, it wasn't ready, something was missing.
Your hands firmly gripped the skin of her thigh and used your unexpected strength to push them up and into her chest. The new angle was optimal in bringing you both insurmountable amounts of pleasure. You had hardly any warning as her cum drenched your thighs, her walls held the strap still and caused your end to press even deeper into your sensitive spot.
The moan that left Natasha's throat was carnal, anyone within a hundred feet of the room would know that she just had her soul cleansed. Yours directly followed as your pussy spluttered against hers. They were short, and breathy, the heat of them fanned over her racing pulse point and her body shivered with aftershocks.
For a moment you both panted out of sync, yours were far less refined in comparison with the athletes. It'd made you insecure to think about, but the way her hands roamed over your curves was affirming. When she squeezed your hips and soft skin rippled between her fingers you could feel the way she loved you.
Her lips were on yours the entire time she'd been feeling you up. You nearly busted again just because her lips touched yours, there was not much urgency down below as you devoured her whole up above. Then your hips started rocking slowly, a natural rhythm of the game at hand, but then she whimpered softly and you pulled out of her puffy, glistening core. Tears fell from her eyes and you apologized as she thanked you.
Thanked you for fucking her so well that she could barely remember her own name, but she promised she'd never forget how to scream yours. She was overstimulated, but pushing you anyways, so you silenced her with the side of the strap that was once stretching out your tight, hollowed walls. Her eyes glazed as they rolled back, and you felt liberated.
A hoarse, “Oh fuck,” vibrated around the silicone and you chuckled devilishly, reveling in the foreign power, “Such a slut for a little taste of me, aren’t you kitten?”
Her eyes muddled even further and you felt godly. “Tomorrow you'll be sworn in as the leader of our merging kingdoms," you chuckled, "but look at how quickly you submit to me baby, that's concerning."
Natasha whimpered around the strap, and you smiled broadly. "There, there honey," you coo'd mockingly, tongue flicking over the salty tears trailing down her rosy cheeks. "Mommy will take charge for now..."
You continued to fuck her throat with the strap, it was mesmerizing to see her cry, her eyes glistening, sorta reminding you of a lively leaf beneath a raindrop. It was as if you brought her back to life, you could see the love uncovering beneath her outwardly guarded eyes as they bore into yours. Your Natty was reviving…
But her Y/N not so much, there was an unfamiliar darkness that surrounded you. The love you held for her was there, burning bright, but she could see the unresolved pain trying to dim it, the darkness controlled you and the tenderness was broken, as if it was simply switched off. With every thrust the redhead now gagged, there was a bit of vengeance in your eyes as you drew the reaction from her. You were truly enamored by the experience, you watched as her drool trailed down the sides of her chin and coated the skin of her jawline, staining her with a mix of you and her.
The longer you watched the more interested in getting a taste of her essence you became. Without removing your gaze from hers you lowered your head, tongue flicking out to lick up what you could of her essence, but it had dried some under the rooms dry breeze. It only made sense for you to sink down, the redheads eyes widened in shock, or alarm—maybe it was both.
The warmth of your mouth did the trick in softening her slick, and you moaned at the taste as she gagged, her end being now pressed beyond her throats tight hole. She spluttered as she felt the painful stretch, one would think your goal was asphyxiation, but as she focused on your softer gaze she was able to mirror you as you breathed through your nose. Even in her hazy state it was clear to her that you’d done this before.
Envy gripped her heart as she realized you were the first person to drink from the well she deemed hers. Bittersweet solace wrapped around yours in the same blink of time, you were still so unsure about trusting her again, but you fought the temptation to run. If she was truly back, you could find it in you to stay as well.
Once your lips met you stayed still, the air was charged with a need for more, her green eyes begged for you to kiss her truly, but you made her wait a breath longer. Then you slowly pulled back, your own mess of drool slid down the strap and into the hollows of her cheek. As much as the redhead wanted reprieve, and you, she also found some comfort in the suckling of the plastic.
Once you reached the tip you gripped it with your teeth and abruptly pulled it from her mouth, trails of spit, cum and blood followed and your eyes widened some. But Natasha’s were unwavering as she pulled you down and into a kiss that gave way to her every single fear.
The redhead flipped your positions and pressed even further into you, her lips firmly kept their rightful spot against your own, and the two of you made out like there was no plans for tomorrow. Her love and your pesky frustration bled together as your tongues met.
Natasha wanted to keep going, but it was too much to ask of either of your bodies, so she pulled away after her lungs gave her no choice, and fell on top of you. Silence followed, aside from the soft, labored pants of a job well done. It was eventually Natasha that broke it.
"We've done everything backwards," she whispered against the skin of your throat, you'd barely heard her from where she'd burrowed, but you fortunately did. "That's the price to pay for all other parties decisions."
"I-I was just so mad," she morosely admitted, "they made decisions for us that only we should have."
"I know," you acknowledged with an edge to your tone, discussing this was likely going to be charged with the anger that only just began to settle down in your heart.
"I was upset too Natasha, because I dreamed of the same thing but they tainted it with their diplomatic nonsense. It felt spiteful, as if they knew what I was only just discovering. Using my feelings against me, and then, what I didn’t expect was the next day when I woke up to find you suddenly didn’t want me around.”
“That’s not—, Y/N, of course I wanted you around…”
“Your actions said otherwise, and they only left me shattered and then the foreseen inevitably, alone."
"I am so sorry," she softly cried and you hummed, “I know,” your hand was rubbing her back gently in a soothing manner, your tone a little less on edge now, "I'm trying to forgive you Natty," you admitted, a bit of a fall back from your earlier spoken sentiments. In that prior heated moment it felt resolved, but the more you thought it over, the more you felt she'd need to work towards making this destiny work out harmoniously.
Natasha ached at the realization, no matter the way she preserved herself for you, it obviously wasn't enough. A juvenile thought coming back to bite her in the ass she supposed, but she didn't care about the consequences just as long as she had the chance to make it right. She would do anything to, no matter the cost, whether it be monetary, or her soul; she’d even kill another for you.
"Can I take you somewhere?" Natasha meekly asked after another bout of silence, you’d honestly thought she fell asleep, but she was stewing just the same.
The gala likely ended an hour ago, with your collective parents, yours most certainly begrudgingly, dismissing the crowds in your place, with some excuse, like your need for sleep as the wedding of the century occurs tomorrow. Yet you weren't sleeping, instead you were accepting the invitation from your fiancée, allowing her a chance to get started on fixing your relationship.
Which started with a sweet shower, she washed your body with care, the rag slid over your curves and the love you'd been missing was back as if it never left. A truth of sorts as Natasha only hid her abundant love.
Once the both of you were clean, she guided you over to her tub, and left you to soak your aching muscles for a bit longer in a bubble bath while she set off to plan.
Natasha rummaged through her wardrobe and pulled out a few of her fleece sleep linens. You walked out of the bathroom with only a towel for your hair and the redhead shamelessly stared at your gorgeous body.
"My eyes are up here Natasha," you reminded and she carelessly shrugged, "I know. I'm starting at your tits."
"If you're not ready for my hand in marriage," you began to scold in jest but the redhead swooped you off of your feet and into a silencing kiss instead. She softly laid you onto the fresh sheets and just as gently kissed down your body, her tongue ran through your folds as a tease and you choked on your breath. Natasha just wanted to taste you over the mint of her toothpaste. “I’m ready for everything the world will throw our way just as long as I get to taste your divinity, my queen.”
“Natasha,” you whined and pulled her up so that she could meet your glare, she chuckled as her lips gently pecked your own. “We’ll continue this tomorrow.” She winked, then made quick work to dress you in her navy blue pjs, kissing the skin of your stomach and under boob as she settled the fabric against your skin. Then she slid into her crimson set and guided you into a pair of boots before she helped you sneak out of the castle.
The two of you were hand in hand as you ran across the massive courtyard, nearly tripping over the wet grass while giggling like little kids as you approached the creek that held your fondest memories. The moonlight was beautifully shining off of the murky water and illuminating your face just right. Natasha tripped as she was stepping over a root, and just as she came to terms with the incoming impact she was fine. Just when she was about to hit the dead shrubbery you hooked your arms beneath her armpits and yanked up.
"I'm already yours Natasha, there's no need to fall." You pushed her petite, muscular frame against the tree and she smiled as the memory of a lost opportunity passed through her mind. Part of her regrets not kissing you back then, but most of her thinks the path that led her to you was just as it should be.
Her lips lovingly met yours, the both of you smiled as you felt the dynamic changing, it was as if all the stars and planets had finally aligned; destiny sealed shut.
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff au#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff is an idiot#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#gxg#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#natasha x fem!reader
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No One's Savior [Natasha]
Summary : Life is cruel, God gives you the life you wonder if you deserve, a life were you have no one and have to stand up by your own feet
Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Fem ! Reader
Warning : Being tortured, blood, death, crying
World Count : 2,777
No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

"Please, Nat, let's go play around,” you beg her while following her down the stairs. Their mom adopted you a year ago, seeing you in the street trying to make amends to feed yourself and survive another day in the street.
“Your mom said we could play or bike around, please? ”You give her puppy eyes that you know she can't say no to.
"Fine, fine,” she groans, but you jump on happiness and quickly drag her to the garage to get yours and her bike around the neighborhood.
You smile while biking side by side; you never imagine your life will be like this. I mean, you grow up on the street with no one, stealing people’s food, money, clothes, or anything else you can use to exchange for some money.
You were 6 years old when you learned how to steal things, but when you reach the age of 9, you steal something from Melina, but she catches you. She's hesitant at first to get you arrested or put you in the system, but you beg her to let you go, and that's when she decided to adopt you right there and then, and now it's been a year since that day.
Sure, you try to run away after a few days of staying with them, but after a few days away from them, you realize that it's much better to live with them and their strict rules, and you push yourself to adapt to their lifestyle.
At first, Melina's daughters disagree, but with the command of their father, they don't have a choice but to accept it, so they try to get to know you until they accept you and become friends with them.
Even though Melina didn't get the papers for you to be their legal daughter by law, they still treat you like family, and you're happy to be a part of their family.
But Yelena’s sister, Natalia, is the one who makes you stay with them; she's kind, caring, and looking out for you, even if she tries to hide it.
She also catches your eyes, which makes you want to look at those emerald eyes forever. It's mesmerizing you where you sometimes zone out.
But the happy life quickly washed away when Melina and Alexei took the three of you to the Red Room. You thought it would be fine, but once they took you away, you knew that the happy life you had was now over.

“I don't want to be here, Nat,” you whisper, whimpering in the middle of the night, where only you and Nat are awake. Yelena, beside your bed, is sound asleep.
“It's ok, shh,” Nat whispers to you and reaches out to touch your face and wipe your tears. She wants to hug you and cradle you, but the handcuffs on her right hand are preventing her from doing it.
“We will get out, I promise. I’ll get you out of here. Now stop crying,” she whispered, and you nodded and made yourself comfortable.
“Promise? ”She nodded, smiling at you while she squeezed your hand.
“I promise,” she whispers, then kisses the back of your hand.
You sigh in relief, finding a safe place and comfort in the Red Room after everything you've been through for over 9 years. She still provides you comfort and a safe place, and you already fall for her, and so does she. Even though she won't admit it, she still loves you deep inside.
As long as she's here with you, you'll be okay at the end of the day. Even if your foot will bleed again from ballet, you killed someone, or they give you a punishment, you know you will be okay, and you've been holding on to Nat’s promise over the years that someday you three will be free.
But again, you should have learned the first time that not everything will stay the way it is and that promises—as someone says—are meant to be broken, and they are right.
Promise really meant to be broken, like how Natalia broke hers, how she just left you behind those bars, locked up, begging her to let you come with her.
"Natalia, please don't…don't leave me here.” You begged her when she turned around to leave this place and start her new life.
"Nat, please, I don't want to be here anymore. Please let me come with you, please.” You cry out for her, so she turns around again and puts her hands on your cheeks while she tries not to cry like you, and she smiles at you.
“I’ll come back for you, I promise... I will be back, ok? ”She whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat.
“No, no, please, Nat.” You grip her wrist, not letting her go, but she forces herself to get her wrist back and turns around.
“NAT NO…PLEASE….YOU PROMISED…NATALIA,” you scream, bagging the metal bars and watching her walk away from your sight until she's gone, so you drop on your knees and cry to yourself.
You just wish that you didn't make a little mistake on your ballet so you wouldn't be here in this cell alone, that maybe you're now with Natasha getting out of here.
But you still hold on to another promise, the promise she didn't—again—fulfill, and you're so stupid to believe that she will come back for you.
If you have a thought past in the RedRoom, now your life in there is hell. Since Natalia escaped, they put more security, they doubled the training, and you—your life has become hell.
Why? Since she escaped, you've become the target of everyone. When you were sleeping, they tried to suffocate you. Since the handcuffs are now gone, they can do whatever they want.
They even beat you up, and for the high staff of the Red Room, gosh, they also give you a hard time. They believe that you know the whereabouts of Natalia, so they tortured you.
Drown you, beat you up, hand you up with your hands tied up on your back, and do everything they can to break you, but since you didn't say anything, they turned you into one of the greatest black widows on your program.
And since then, you hate Natalia; you blame her for everything that had happened to you, so you become, though, a cold-hearted person and a killer machine. Dreykov wants
“Uhuh…you're ready! ”He smirked, standing on his chair behind his long table, where you were standing in front of him, emotionless.
“You've become the greatest widow I can imagine! ”He then lights up his tobacco and goes around his table and to your back, whispering in your ear.
“One of my pride and joy,” he giggled to himself, then went in front of you and sat on his table.
“What do you think about a mission—a highly top mission, huh? ”He then took a folder, looking inside to see if it's the file he's talking about.
“I’m gladly accepting whatever mission needs to be done, sir,” you said in monotone, so he gave you the folder, and you took it.
“That's what I wanted about you; no second guessing,” he says, smirking and urging you to open up and take a look at the mission he's given you.
When you read what it is, your heart stops for a few seconds, a feeling you didn't know you would be feeling again, but thanks to the training you had, you cover it up pretty well, and then you close the folder and look at Dreykov.
“I will not let you down, sir.”
“That's what I wanted to do here; no, go and prepare.” With that, you get out of his office and go get the things you need for the mission, to kill Natalia.

“Update to everybody? ”Steve said on the coms while he brought down four guards of the Red Room.
“Clint, east wing”
“Tony, east sky.”
“Thor, at the Helipad.”
“Lower ground in the north, Wanda.”
“Top south, Clint.”
Everybody took their update, but Nat and Steve's hearing nothing makes him worried about the redhead—not that he didn't trust her and her abilities, but still, that's his teammates in the field, fighting.
“Nat, update? ”He reminded her, and after a few minutes, she replied.
"Underground.” Then Steve nodded to himself and went back to fighting the enemy.
“Augh! ”Natasha then coughs up the dust when she tries to open the locked gate of one of the cells in the underground.
“I think there's no one here,” she mumbles to herself, and when she turns around and walks a few steps to go back up, there's a sound, coming to the end of the hallway, a cough. It's not audible since she's far from the source, but she's a spy, and her senses are highly activated every time.
So she quickly took her gun out, pointed to the hallway in case someone suddenly jumped on her, and slowly and carefully walked towards the sound.
Then she pointed her gun inside when she finally got to the last cell at the end of the hallway, seeing a woman tied up in the chair, blood and deep, superficial wounds littering all over her body.
She quickly put her gun down and slowly but surely walked closer, but once she's close enough to see her body up close, she freezes, seeing the birthmark on her shoulder.
“Y/N? ”You then scoff, recognizing her voice—the same voice you've despise the most, the same voice you wanted to get revenge on.
"Natalia,” you look up at her eyes—the same eyes you've adored for years, the same eyes that gave you comfort and a safe place before, but now? Now all you see and feel is her broken promises and the betrayal she has done.
When you look into those eyes for the past few months, all you see is you being tortured over and over again. You wanted her to feel the same way you felt.
You wanted to kill her with your bare hands, but every time you tried to, she dodged it. She always fought back. She will always be greater than you.
That's why you're here now, bleeding to death because you can't kill her, so Dreykov chooses to slowly kill you, making sure to make you feel how unworthy and a failure you are that you couldn't kill the black widow herself.
“What are you waiting for, huh? ...You can now kill me,” you snarl at her. Your left eye is blurry because of the swelling and bruise, and your eyes are bleeding, making it harder to open your eye.
“No, don't say that…” Natasha quickly put her gun to her holster and kneeled in front of you, inspecting every inch of your body, making her shudder in horror.
“What have they done to you? ”She looks up at your eyes; her eyes are glistening with tears, not wanting to cry in front of you, but once you see the pity in her eyes, you scoff.
“Don’t act like you don't like what you're seeing.” You then cough up blood, making you feel even weaker than before.
“Wh-what? What are you talking about? ”She's worried that seeing coughing up blood makes her blood run cold.
“It breaks me seeing you like this,” she then proceeds to untie you while, deep inside her, she's panicking.
“You don't have to pretend like you fucking care! ”You weakly growl, getting angry at the moment.
“I do, I do care, my love, I do,” she firmly said, looking up at you. Her eyes say it all, and now tears run down her cheek, but you don't have anything in you to believe her, maybe because you already learned your lesson and don't want to be fooled once again.
“Really? Then why did you leave me here? Huh? ”Natasha, swallow the lump on her throat and go back, untying you to avoid the question.
“Why didn't you come back like you promised? ”And since your body weight is all forward, Natasha caught you when your limp body got freed from the restraint.
“I waited for you, like a fucking dog waiting for their master to come back! You betrayed me! ”She then put you down, taking you on her lap.
“And don't you fucking dare call me'my love'? I’m not the same person you once knew! ”You spat; you wanted to push her or get out of her arm—the same arms that calm you down—but now it feels like burning.
“Shhh…. You'll be OK. I promise. I’m here now…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She sniffs and wipes away her tears while she caresses your cheek, and then again you cough more blood.
“No, you're not fucking sorry, and we both know your promise meant nothing! If it's not, you should have gotten me out of here the first time, like you promised! ”She hugged you while tears streamed down her face.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m sorry,” she keeps chanting while your breathing is shallow and you're slowly losing consciousness, and Natasha notices it.
“No, Y/N, don't close your eyes... Please...” She quickly taps her intercoms to send someone to her.
“Wanda, Tony, Steve, anybody, I need back up ASAP.” She then keeps tapping your cheeks to keep you awake.
“Hang on, my love... You're going to be okay; just keep your eyes open, please. I'm not going to leave you. Again, just please...keep your eyes open,” she whispered, beg caressing your cheek like she did before.
“You know that I fucking hate you?”She gasped, hearing it from your own mouth.
“I fucking want to hurt you…..I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me. I want to make you feel what they have done to me! ”You look up at her eyes, tears streaming down both sides of your faces.
“Because you fucking left me here alone! ....I begged you…I called out for you. I even waited for you to come back…but you never came…you didn't fulfill your promises. Instead, you turned your back on me. You left and left me here alone, suffering.” You put your hand on top of her cheek and squeezed it the best you could.
“I was scared, Natalia. I’m scared, and you're not there anymore…I’m always scared” You put all of your strength on your hand to take her hand, move it to your lips, kiss her palm, and put it back on your cheek, squeezing it.
“I know… I know, and I’m sorry, my love….I’m sorry I left you behind….I’m sorry. I didn't mean to leave you, I didn't mean to.” She cries out, and you smile at her, a genuine smile you never did for over a year, but Natasha quickly panics when you close your eyes and your hand drops.
“No…no no no…please dekta…open your eyes…please I’m begging you…open your eyes” she tried…she tried to wake you up but you didn't show any sign of waking up, and now every second the warmth of your body is fading and thinking of them makes her wanna die too, instead she hugged and rocked you back and forth while she cried, savoring the warmth of your body that she knows she'll never feel again.
“I’m so sorry, my love,” she whispers, putting her cheek on yours, and that's when Wanda barges into the room, worried.
“Nat? ”Wanda stopped on her track, hearing and seeing Nat cry.
“What happened? ”She slowly walks towards her and keeps a distance to give Natasha some space.
It broke Wanda seeing her like this; she knows her as a tough, wise, and smart woman who never shows any weaknesses or lowers her ground, but now that Wanda sees her at her lowest, it breaks her.
“She's gone,” Natasha chokes at her own words. It hurts to admit it and get it out of her own mouth that you're gone. She knows she has to accept it whether she likes it or not

A.N : guys I made a video of this one shot, anyone wants to see it?
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanova#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n#black widow#black widow 2021#marvel black widow#natalia alianovna romanova#natasha x you#natalia romanova#red room#natasha alianovna romanova#natasha#natasha marvel#natasha and yelena#natasha romanov#tw death#natasha romanoff angst#angst#wanda mcu#wanda maximoff
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lawyer Regulus Black?
writers i gift unto you this idea. someone who knows something about the law please write this cause i don't know shit and i really don't want to do the research, i'll end up studying for the bar. the adhd is WILD.
Regulus "law is a gentleman's profession" Black. Lawyer Regulus Black with a fantastic excuse to wear very expensive perfectly tailored suits every day. who definitely came from money and took advantage with the best schools, a comfortable home etc, but now takes pride in NOT living off the Black fortune, thank you very much. he's still working through some of his privilege.
Regulus Black as a prosecutor who is absolutely out for blood against anyone hurting the vulnerable. he could be rather disapproving of his wild older sibling's best friend. he knows Siri is the more reckless of that pair but they egg each other on! they're going to get into real trouble one day...
Divorce lawyer Regulus Black who is so comforting and kind and thoughtful behind closed doors and absolutely terrifying in the courtroom.
Autistic lawyer Regulus Black who loves the order and rules of the court, and that (hopefully, maybe, generally) we're trying to do the right thing. it doesn't always work but it's all we have, really. lawyer Regulus Black who was raised to work within the system. with some pretty grey morals that he works on over time.
Defense lawyer Regulus Black who really does think everyone deserves a fair trial and representation. one of the few who still say that with real sincerity. he could meet the rest of the skittles more easily that way, be they other lawyers or defendants.
Slightly corrupt lawyer Regulus Black? perhaps finding his way back to being a good person or perhaps pushed into the corruption? AU with the black family having their fingers in the muggle world and its political powers and courts. pick any country you like for this really
Trans Regulus Black who took the education and ran away now that he could take care of himself. transitioning away from his parents and living totally separately, meeting up years later for some legal matter and they don't recognize him at all. but now he's done the therapy work and isn't scared of them any more. Regulus telling the court officer to please make sure Walburga and Orion aren't regularly interacting with any children because he is a mandatory reporter isn't he? "you see now she's scared. cause I know everything about you and I don't owe you loyalty any more"
please take this idea and run with it. i'm already a reggie kinnie but my anxiety is too high and my adhd too bad to end up studying law and that's how i research as a writier
#marauders#regulus black#jegulus#starchaser#sirius black#slytherin skittles#trans regulus#autistic regulus black#sunseeker#james x regulus#jegulus microfic#jegulus fanfiction#regulus x james
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❝ rock me ; ricky olson — part one



𖥻 pairing: ricky olson x fan!female reader
𖥻 contains: summer love, angst, +18 contents, second chance romance
𖥻 warnings: inspired by one direction's "rock me". swearing, alcohol consumption, legal age gap (reader is 19/20-ish), mentions of smut / english is not my first language. i did change a bit their summer tour from 2019 but bear with me. please. not proof-read!
word count — 8k
synopsis — ricky didn't want a relationship. especially not after his previous one and especially not with a girl much younger than him. still, when you two met a few summers back, you changed his dogma and he allowed you in for what would be the best summer of your life if only it hadn't ended in the most dramatic of ways.
🎀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⭒ part one... summer of '19
SUMMER of 2019. that’s when everything changed.
it was a true dream come true. you eventually managed to save enough money to buy both a concert and a plane ticket to see your favourite band perform live; it took months and months of convincing your parents to let you go with your best friend as a birthday gift for you and an equal effort to save said money. still, despite all the hardships, you had made it to the front row.
the night before was hot — painfully hot, for that matter — which in itself was already a good enough reason for your best friend to convince you to go out and explore london together, but not only that it was a special night. we have to go out tonight, for christ's sake, she said and as you protested saying you were tired she rolled her eyes, it's your birthday and we're finally travelling by ourselves... do i really need to give you any more reasons why?
before you realised it, you were out of the hotel, dressed up, and heading towards what google had suggested as the best rock/sports pub in the area you two were in. on your way there, from time to time, a breeze would come through and make not only the heat a lot more tolerable, but also causing your loose little black skirt to dance along with your hair, swirling it around against the night sky and neon lights of the many pubs and stores nearby. at that moment, you stopped regretting leaving the hotel room, for the city seemed to have a life of its own in a way you hadn’t seen before at other places you’d been to and it felt revitalising to be a part of it, no matter how small.
your best friend pointed at the pub you were headed to once you arrived and it was packed inside — it was a friday night, after all; the fact that you two were clearly the youngest people entering the place should’ve been a red flag to you, looking back, but you were too joyful and excited about life to care about that and so as you two entered the place, finding a spot for the two of you became somewhat of a mission that resulted in you standing by the actual bar, near the bartenders and where the air conditioning was much stronger.
“wouldn’t it be crazy if we bumped into somebody from motionless in white here?” she said in a chuckle.
the environment was different from anything you had experienced before, in a positive way — smiling at your best friend was only a natural reaction to that, even more so when she pointed out, laughing, the terrible security job there allowing so many people in a small space. there was an arsenal match replaying on the tv’s but you couldn’t even properly hear the girl next to you due to the loud rock music playing, much less a football game; most of what your senses could smell were either alcoholic beverages or sweat mixed with the cheap perfume of those around you and all you could see was an ocean of people crowding the relatively small establishment that soon began to come together to sing 'chop suey' by system of a down in a single harmonic choir, which made goosebumps travel down your spine as you stood there sipping a fruity drink that matched the warm weather of that night.
it wasn’t until about half an hour or so later, when your glass was empty and your girlfriend had gone to the restroom, that you discovered someone had taken an interest in you.
“hey, that guy over there just paid for your drink,” one of the five bartenders handed another glass of the same cocktail towards you and pointed at an almost impossible-to-see spot across the bar, near a pillar that was clearly separating that area from the rest of the place. some kind of vip reserved area or something like it. as you took the drink from the employee, your gaze searched around to see who was the guy that she was talking about — flirting was not on your to-do-list for the night, but considering it was your birthday, you assumed perhaps you should give it a chance.
you turned your attention back to the bartender to ask if it was a safe drink but before you could say anything, the blonde offered you a reassuring stare, “don’t worry, i made it myself.” and as you thanked her, with your cheeks burning from the heat and the surprise of having someone buy you a drink on your first-ever night out, you continued to search for the mysterious man, wondering what was he like.
once you found him, your blood froze.
he was raising a glass of whisky at you when your eyes finally met his grey ones. the black hair shined beneath the neon lights above him, just like all the silver accessories on his fingers, neck and wrists. his tattoos caught your attention, as well and even though you couldn’t actually see them per se, you already knew what designs and stories his body carried in art form. and for a whole moment, looking at him, it felt like the world had stopped spinning while you were caught in a mist of admiration.
richard olson had bought you a drink. not only that, but the guitarist stared at you without blinking as if you truly were the most mesmerising creature he had ever seen before in his life.
in your mind, there was a mixture of paradoxical feelings both pressuring you into doing something while keeping you static without reaction. you knew who he was, obviously — how couldn’t you? you were there just to see his band live the following night —, and you didn’t want to ruin everything because of that or make him uncomfortable; but at the same time, you’d hate yourself for the rest of your days if you fumbled this once in a lifetime chance because you were scared to do something about it. as much as you wanted to go to him, a part of you reprimanded the idea, trying to convince you that you weren’t that cheap or a groupie.
ricky smirked from across the pub and took a sip of the amber liquid sitting in the glass in his hand. there was no way for you to know what was going on inside his head, naturally, but just from your reaction alone, the musician could tell you were a fan: he was used to the reactions of being recognized in public, it was easy to tell.
between your internal conflict and the crowded pub, air became rarefied and the sounds around you started to fade into an overwhelming background noise that took over you. still, you couldn't drift your gaze away from his, it seemed like the man you had always admired from afar had now casted a spell on you so you couldn’t look anywhere else other than his gorgeous grey blue eyes.
“i swear the bathroom line was ginormous! it took me ten minutes just to get in. ten minutes! i hadn’t even peed yet. can you believe that?” the voice behind you said with a grunt. your best friend rolled her eyes as she found her place again in front of you, but noticing you did not pay a single attention to anything she said, a confused frown formed on her features before asking what was wrong. you failed to answer once again which only made her turn around to see what was keeping your interest so intensely. “oh my fucking god… is that who i think it is? why is he staring at you? did you do something?”
“please shut up,” you instinctively fired. anxiety was creeping in with every passing second and not even the alcohol entering your system as you sipped the drink in your hands was easing it up. “he paid for my drink, but i’m too nervous to do something and he keeps looking in our direction. i don’t want to talk to him. what if he realises i’m a fan? then what?”
“are you fucking for real right now? are you stupid or something?” your friend asked turning back to you, looking completely shocked by your words, “if he does and he doesn’t want anything to do with you, then, hell, i guess you’ll just come back here and we can have fun just the two of us and tomorrow we’ll pretend that nothing ever happened. simple as that. now, please, do yourself a favour and go talk to him or i’ll never let you forget tonight.”
her answer was the reason that pushed you to finally break eye contact with ricky, who was still admiring you from afar. you knew she was right, as much as you hated to admit it that night: there was nothing about that whole thing that could possibly haunt you in your day-to-day life once you returned to your hometown. there was nothing to be afraid or ashamed of as long as you two were respectful towards each other. right?
it wasn’t like you were given the entitlement to choose for long after that — not when said musician left his band and crewmembers, shifting his focus on the path towards where you were, right as ‘you're all i need’ by mötley crüe started playing which left you blushing by the time the dark-haired man stopped in front of you with that same closed mouth smile from before.
“excuse me, may i borrow your friend for a second?” despite his attention being clearly on you solely, his grey eyes shifted for a second to your best friend, who stood there in as much shock as you but soon nodded without saying a lot other than that she would stay where she was in case you needed her, “oh, please come with us. i’m sure a friend of mine would be very happy to meet you, if you’d like.”
and suddenly, the two of you went from young girls enjoying a girl’s night out in london standing by the bar in a crowded pub to two young girls enjoying a night out in london with motionless in white. never in your wildest fangirl dreams did you ever allow yourself to picture such a rendezvous becoming reality.
glancing in your best friend’s direction, looking for any sign that this was not a dream, your eyes found her talking excitedly with vincenzo — considering the way the two of them were gesturing at each other, most likely about video games. the smile on her lips, along with the shine in her eyes, served as evidence of her comfortableness in such an unusual environment and seeing the one person you cared for the most in the world so relaxed, got you to relax and smirk a little as well. if she was having fun then you found it in yourself to allow your mind to enjoy the moment too.
“looks like they’re having fun, right?” the slightly raspy voice behind you said by your ear in a lighthearted scoff. as you turned around, you were met with the image of ricky taking a final sip of his whisky. “this is probably the first time in a while vin found a girl that actually enjoys those games he likes to play in real life, not twitter or something.”
ricky’s comment made you laugh and hearing your laughter congealed the musician’s thoughts long enough for him to forget briefly that he was not in his own company, that there were other people around the two of you despite the reduced intensity revolving everything around him simply due to the amused sound that escaped your cherry-coloured lips because of some stupid thing he said. the dark-haired man hadn’t felt like that since the first date with his former girlfriend and although it did feel good and massaged his ego, richard also hated the idea of going down that road again. and so, ignoring the warmth in his chest, his eyes scanned you up and down.
“sweetheart, how old did you say you were again?”
you answered, soon adding: “tonight’s my birthday”, not noticing how your attention had quickly been redirected from your friend to him, and him only, in a matter of seconds nor how the two of you were standing close to each other. “my ticket for tomorrow night’s concert was my birthday gift.”
the powerful muscle inside your chest stopped beating once the realisation hit you and ricky’s bright eyes kept on staring at you as he furrowed his dark eyebrows. you had never kissed anyone before and yet, against all odds of the universe and what was real or not, you were standing at a finger’s length of one of your biggest celebrity crushes while he showed an almost unbelievable interest in you — although there was no way for you to know that the reality was that he was momentarily rethinking his life choices for wanting to keep talking to a girl that much younger than him; for heaven’s sake, you could do better than him.
“happy birthday, sweet girl. i hope you’re having fun tonight,” olson chuckled and instinctvely rushed a hand to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, only to then use it to caress your cheek that seemed rosier than usual due to both the alcohol and the whole interaction with the man before you. “i'll make sure tomorrow’s show will be the best you'll ever see.”
ironically enough, as if the same mischievous universe from before hadn't had its share of fun already with your desperation of being at the older man’s mercy, the background music changed again to kiss’ ‘i was made for lovin you’ right when you found yourself with his hand on your cheek and his lips dangerously close to yours as the seconds went by. it was at that moment that you began to wonder if after that night, love songs would sound different… what if you could never listen to your favorite songs again after a night out with ricky olson? if that was the case, the most desperate romantic part of yourself began to pray for the heavens that it happened because they would remind you of ricky and bring joy to your soul and not tears to your eyes.
the song progressed along with its notes and vocals and all you could focus on was the guy right in front of you. ricky was so close that you could smell the whisky in his breath, the perfume on his body and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke particular to someone who spent time with smokers like he did. your eyes, unsure, raised themselves from the necklace resting on his chest to find his, as pretty as a set of jewels. you remembered once hearing him talk about it in an interview but the words escaped your mind in that moment — it wasn't exactly like your mind was functioning like it should be, anyways.
“what's the meaning of your necklace?” you asked, gently picking it between your fingertips. a bit scared to look up at ricky again.
“it was a part of my grandfather's key collection. i just took it and turned it into a necklace to keep it close, i guess,” he smiled. doing the same thing you did seconds earlier, he picked up your necklace. a single small silver star hanging from a silver chain. “what's your story?”
“my grandma gave it to me when i was a kid and i never took it off since.”
he nodded and played with the medallion a few times between his calloused fingertips before letting it go to focus on you instead. once again, the musician furrowed his eyebrows yet again for a brief instant but it soon disappeared and metamorphosed into a little smirk. “i honestly don't know what to do now. and we haven't even known each other for more than like half an hour.”
“i don't know, man, sounds like you should just kiss her,” the characteristic powerful voice of aj rose up from behind ricky while his back stood facing the two of you as he waited for his drink at the bar. soon, the bottle of beer was in his hand and the tall blonde turned around faking a cough in ricky’s direction, “pussy.”
you couldn't help but laugh. despite the noticeable age difference between ricky — and everyone that worked with the band — and your friends back home, there were still similarities that made you feel a bit less nervous about everything.
olson closed his eyes for a second in irritation and told aj to fuck off while his cheeks turned into a shade of light pink due to the provocations of his friend.
“i'm sorry about that,” he apologized in a murmur while brushing a hand through his black hair that shone beneath the neon lights of the bar behind him.
“it's okay,” you shook your head laughing, “it's nice to see you're not faking your relationship in front of the cameras. that you actually pick on each other like that and not just when there's someone recording it.”
“you're saying that because you're not the one dealing with this behaviour all the time.”
his answer made you giggle again. little did he know that you’d be willing to do crazy things to experience the so-called immaturity of the band and staff. you admired them, there was nothing you'd want more. well, maybe there was and it was mere centimitres away from you.
from the expression on your face to the light glistening in your eyes gazing back at him, ricky knew you truly didn't mind the playful comment from aj and on second thought, it was the push he needed to finally shut the hell up and hold your face delicately so he could wrap his lips around yours in a kiss. your first kiss. with richard olson.
at first it was shy, sweet, romantic even; ricky tried to be as respectful as he possibly could with you, after all he had no right to act like an asshole and crush your heart in exchange for a night of selfish fun pleasure games. still…
after he leaned back for air, the kiss grew more passionate as the two of you allowed each other to deepen it further. the flavours of scotch whisky and peppermint bubblegum resided in his mouth and invaded yours just like the heat coming from your fragile heart did the rest of your body. ricky’s hands held you firmly on your left cheek and your waist, pulling you closer to him as your arms wrapped around the back of his neck.
it felt like a dream come true. so much so that you could barely believe that that was real life, that you were lucky enough to be experiencing such a thing. to kiss ricky like that was a surreal sensation and you begged mentally to pretty much every single powerful deity you could think of for that night to never end.
when finally the two of you were running out of oxygen, you reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, with your eyes closed and biting your lower lip. the feeling of ricky’s lips touching yours still there, making you finally understand hollywood romance movies in which one of the characters becomes addicted to the other's kiss.
richard called for you, pulling you from your awakened dream with the way his thumb caressed the bite marks on your lower lip. he knew that was your first kiss: it was difficult to not notice how you were so adorably awkward trying to mimic his movements or how stiff your body stood. he found it both curious and cute. still, the guitarist said nothing, instead he decided to just admire your features for a second as his heart trembled with something that he hadn't felt in a long time since him and his ex-girlfriend decided to “take a break” that had been going on for over a year, something he didn't want to feel for anyone. not when he still thought about her. not when he still carried a keychain of the tenth letter of the alphabet.
still, he brushed it off. it was impossible to think straight when two very strong conflicting voices were trying to take over his mind: at the same time he hated the idea of being a terrible man to you, someone that broke you on the inside, another part of him despised himself for even thinking about moving on when he could still have another shot at the previous relationship of his. ricky was being selfish and he knew it, which was why he also knew you deserved better than him.
you and your best friend spent the whole night with the band and staff — somehow logan managed to get you a cupcake with a candle for you to blow — and it was the best night of your whole life. pictures were taken on different phones and so were videos of drunk vinny and aj trying to beat ryan and talitha on a match of darts, which they failed, naturally. you talked all night long with ricky and it seemed so easy, so intuitive too that it felt like a breath of fresh air to be free of a mental need to fake or mold your true personality to fit in; you two laughed, talked about your life stories, about the things you liked or didn't and at some point, you and your best friend had pretty much blended into the motionless family that it barely seemed like the two of you were merely fans in the first place.
soon, one by one everyone around you started to leave. first, it was justin and chris who had only agreed to head out to a pub for a beer or two anyway as they were more homebodies than anyone else there; then it was ryan, talitha and bryce. lastly, aj and logan. it was around two thirty in the morning when the only people left of the much larger group were you, your girlfriend, vincenzo and ricky.
“maybe we should head back to the hotel or something," vin suggested while stretching out the tiredness in his body.
that's what the four of you did. on the walk back, filled with stories of both vinny and ricky about the other times they had been in london, your best friend mentioned how all your things were back at the hotel you were staying at. to that, all vincenzo brought himself to answer was: don't worry about that, you can go back in the morning. oh, and when you get to the venue just say you're with us, they’ll let you both in.
perhaps it was the late hour, but thankfully there were no other fans in the hotel by the time you all walked in. ricky suggested going to the rooftop bar but vin refused, saying he would rather go straight to his room and so, after your friend practically begged you to not worry about her, you were left alone with rick on said rooftop.
the weather was far more pleasant than it was when you left for the pub earlier, a gentle breeze even ran across the space and played with your hair. the difference from before was that now you weren't the one fixing your it, for it was ricky’s fingers that forbidded the strands to bother you. his gesture was simple and almost a natural impulse, something the dark haired man did without thinking, but it made your heart race nonetheless. for hours you'd been feeling like life was worth it and it was thanks to the way the entire band had been treating you, but above anyone, ricky, of course.
now that you were older, you realised how stupid you were to believe in him.
being close to each other on large leather lounge chairs near the bar, you could've sworn that time had slowed down for the remainder of the night. nothing you experienced before could ever compare to the birthday you were having. still, a part of you kept on whispering in your ear that you weren't truly deserving of that: you weren't pretty enough, you weren't interesting enough… you knew those were only insecurities trying to destroy your moment but it seemed that no matter how hard you tried, those thoughts just never went away completely despite all the effort you had put into getting ready with your best friend all those hours ago or the fact that, one way or another, you were accompanied by rick. in his arms, more specifically.
“what's going on in that pretty head of yours, star?” he asked, softly pitching your cheeks. the nickname coming from your necklace.
“nothing important," you answered. the reality was that, along with the doubtful thoughts, your brain started to rethink about that night and how one thing so casually led to another until you ended up there with your cheek resting on ricky's chest while the skilled hands of his caressed and massaged the sides of your body.
“i doubt that," he chuckled.
you shifted your gaze back to the older man holding you and just like that all the worries in your mind faded into nothing. your eyes focused on his lips for a millisecond, yet it was enough for him to notice nonetheless.
“would you like to go to my room?” both his hands traveled up towards your face, cupping it on both sides, when the question left his mouth. it was ricky's way to mask the conflict happening still inside his head while still trying to be decent to you.
both of you wanted the same thing, but for different reasons. either way, as soon as he asked you that, you didn't have to say anything else all it took was a nod and a particular expression on your face and before your daydreamer brain could fully process it, you were back in the elevator laughing at the way ricky stumbled over his own feet only to then shut you up with a gentle yet deep kiss.
the way he touched you, the way he tasted and smelled like were numbing your senses, making you weak to your knees. all you wanted then was to be next to him forever. not only was ricky a musician you admired, you discovered he was a great company and showed every indicator that he could be an amazing lover as well.
by a miracle of some sort, the crew managed to book individual rooms for each member of the band, which meant you and rick would have the whole place to yourselves that evening when he opened the door moments after having picked you up in his arms. back then, you thought of the whole thing as evidence of luck: you thought of yourself as the luckiest girl in the whole world.
ricky kicked the door shut and carried you towards the large bed with his hands supporting your thighs around his waist and slightly chapped lips on your neck.
however, right when your back hit the soft surface of the mattress, your body unconsciously froze as your mind began to race at a thousand kilometres per hour with insecurities, fear and anxiety. there were a million questions traveling inside your head that shook the substructures of your confidence that had been meticulously built throughout the years. it wasn't like you weren't used to your consciousness trying to play tricks on you, but that was the worst possible moment for it to happen. besides, you had worked enough on your perception of your own image for things like that to happen the least amount of times possible. so why was your mind trying to sabotage you?
“hey, sweet girl, what's wrong?” rick asked gently. real concern lingered in his grey eyes. “talk to me.”
you faked a smile. “oh, everything’s fine. it's just that–” you stopped, took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. “i’ve never… you know… i’ve never done this before. with anyone.”
richard furrowed his brows and leaned closer to you. he let out a comforting smile in your direction before raising a hand to caress your cheek like he had done hours earlier when he kissed you for the first time.
“don't worry about that, star. don't pressure yourself. it's perfectly normal, you shouldn't compare yourself to other people," ricky reassured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “do you want me to stop? i can sleep in justin’s room if you'd like.”
“no, no, stay with me,” you quickly fired back. eyes went wide and your left hand instinctively reached for his lower arm, to keep ricky close. “i don't want you to stop. i was only self-conscious, i think. it's all so new…”
“it's okay, pretty star,” olson’s smile enlarged at your explanation. “just trust me.”
his hands gently pulled away from your face and began moving towards the hem of your shirt, delicately removing the piece of clothing off of you and exposing your chest covered by a pretty burgundy lace bra. for a second, you could've sworn that the guitarist had frozen in time after the revelation, which made you both blush and giggle at his expression before you took matters into your own hands and took off his black t-shirt. now, you were the one mesmerised by the tattoos on his skin that seemed to lure you in like a spell of some kind. glancing up at the brunette, you pulled him by the necklace.
in contrary to your expectations of a warm kiss, ricky stopped in the middle of the path towards you and closed his eyes for a brief moment. you had no way of knowing but in his mind, all he could remember was how his former girlfriend used to do exactly that from time to time when she wanted to kiss him. but you weren't her.
“i'm sorry. got a little dizzy for a sec now.” he reassured, looking back at you. and as if nothing happened, the man above you began to deposit lovely little kisses across your chest and towards your abdomen.
“like i said, trust me, sweetheart.” ⭒
the night you spent with ricky was beyond everything you could've expected or even dreamed of in your wildest reveries.
your body felt a bit sore when you woke up around eight in the morning, but your head was bothering you a lot more from the drinking for you to notice anything on the other members of your body. slowly, you recognised the environment as ricky's hotel room but before you could do anything, a weight around your waist precluded any movement of yours further from the stretching. it was his arm, holding you close to the side of his body as ricky remained peacefully asleep on his stomach.
instinctively, you raised an index finger to brush away a few strands of his shoulder-length black hair so you could observe his features more clearly, for in your eyes, richard was a piece of art right there next to you.
“morning," he mumbled beneath his breath. the magnificent grey blue eyes of his remained close, “what time is it?”
“good morning. it's eight fifteen.”
rick murmured a curse word and finally opened his eyes. upon finding you as the first thing he saw in the morning, the dark-haired man let out a smirk before raising his body to kiss your temple. “wish i could stay for breakfast with you, but i have to go. i'm late and the band’s probably waiting for me.”
you watched as he got ready for the day and all the things he would have to do before going on stage and a part of you was positive that from that day forward, you'd become nothing to him. however, olson got out of the bathroom all dressed and ready and before leaving, he returned to the bed where you stayed, got down to his knees and brushed a hand through your hair gently. “i hope you enjoyed last night, that it was as incredible for you as it was for me.”
tracing a thumb on the valley between your breasts, ricky seemed disturbed by the sight of the purple hickeys on your skin. “i'm sorry about this. i shouldn't have gotten so carried away.”
almost immediately you shook your head and brought that hand on your chest to your lips, where you placed a few light kisses on his tattooed knuckles. “richard, don't do that. last night was the best night of my life and i loved every second of it. if anything, i only resent that it is over.”
the rockstar let out a nasal laugh at your answer to his complaint. you were unbelievable and he was starting to hate himself for not allowing his feelings for you develop into something other than maybe a few weeks-long summer affair. you deserved better than him.
“i'll see you tonight, okay? i'll be searching for you from the stage, star,” he gave you a final kiss on the forehead and left for the day.
you, on the other hand, decided to get ready to enjoy the hotel's breakfast with your best friend after a warm morning shower. as soon as you saw your reflection on the bathroom mirror, you stopped thinking about the things you and ricky had done the previous evening and how you were carrying marks of his handling. memories of the way his hands traveled across your skin or the way his lips devoted themselves in offering you a taste of what heaven was like filled your mind and kept you from going about your activities until you remembered that your girlfriend had texted you saying she would meet you at the restaurant.
on the contrary of what you assumed would happen, the shower didn't wash away the late hours, instead, it made you miss ricky more.
still, you finished getting ready with the clothes you wore to the pub, grabbed your belongings and headed out to meet with your friend.
you found her sitting on a table near the many windows. the traffic outside was still heavy, despite being past rush hour; perhaps it was due to the annoying rain and bad weather — it mattered not that it was summer, london would be london until the end of times.
in front of her, two plates of berries and croissants that she had picked up from the buffet awaited your arrival.
“hey,” you said in a smile while sitting down on the chair across from her. tiredness still lingered on your body and mind. “how was last night?”
“already? we haven't even had a cup of coffee yet," she protested with a fake offended tone, that was soon dropped and replaced with the largest smile you had ever seen on her face. despite the gloomy morning, your friend seemed to be glowing, "i'm gonna marry that man, i swear to god, i'm gonna marry that man. go on, write it down: your bestie will become the next mrs. mauro. seriously, you should've introduced me to this band earlier.”
before either of you could say anything else, a waiter approached the table to ask if the two of you would like something to drink. you ordered a latte and your friend a black tea. right as the waiter left your table, she, who was not a fan of the band in the first place, began to explain how the night in the company of vincenzo mauro went. right as they got to the hotel, she noticed how he became even more respectful than he already was throughout the whole time; vin respected her space and kept his distance, which he only breaked when she started to openly flirt with him.
“but then, he told me he was sorry if that was not what i was expecting but that he would much rather watch something together than to do something together, if you know what i mean. we watched spider man and talked like, through the whole movie. and i wasn't even mad about it, he is just so sweet and funny and smart and kind… i know it's the bare minimum but the fact that vin didn't try and force me to do anything warmed my heart, you know?”
you smiled at her rambling, feeling even more happy for her than you felt for yourself. she was your person and her happiness meant more than anything.
for the rest of the breakfast, you two discussed about you and rick: how you talked for hours and hours about many different topics and subjects like you were long-time friends or something; you told her how special he made you feel and how magical it was to know that ricky was going the extra mile only to make sure you were comfortable in doing the things you ended up doing.
it was crazy how in just a single day you went from a mere fan to, a few hours after that, someone who could enter the venue they would be performing at by giving your name to the security guards.
you and your friend were wearing black dresses: yours was a bit more flowy than hers, though. you two decided to go for a simpler makeup, scared that something could go terribly wrong if you decided to try something new but you compensated on accessories. chains, necklaces, rings, big earrings. you two were feeling both the most beautiful and special you had felt in the longest time.
like they said, vin and ricky found a way to grant you full access, which meant you two got to explore the backstage of a tour like theirs before you found your spots by the barricade, right below the right side of the stage. ricky’s side of the stage.
you were having the time of your life enjoying a live performance of your favourite band after such a long time waiting to finally be able to attend a concert of theirs, but every time the guitarist winked in your direction, you felt like your heart could explode at any given moment.
but nothing, absolutely nothing, could've prepared you for the moment when motionless began to perform city lights, even though they hadn't in years. it was your favourite song from your favourite band playing right in front of your eyes. and as if that wasn't enough on its own, the fact that ricky stood there, looking down at nobody but you during the whole song, was making your heart race in ways it hadn't before.
the performance was impeccable: the guys played perfectly, chris sang like an angel and everything was so special that once it was over and you two were heading back to meet the band, a part of you felt somewhat lost or empty.
justin was the first person you found on your wandering; as you briefly hugged him and your friend complimented his stage presence though she soon switched her attention to someone else behind him. someone that opened up a smile equally as large as hers when he saw her standing there.
“hey, pretty” vinny said, taking her in his arms tightly, clearly not being able to hold back his excitement to see her there.
as your friend stood there talking to vinny — whose eyes seemed to shine while looking at her — you remained on your conversation with justin until he invited you to follow him to the greenroom where the rest of the band was resting after the intense show. “rick’s there, just take a left here and you'll find it, i have to take this: wife's calling.”
shyly, you opened the door to the greenroom like justin told you to do. inside, you found ricky sitting on the couch, head leaned back and eyes closed as he tried to slow down his breathing. seemed like there was no one else there — maybe ryan was somewhere else removing the makeup and lord knew where chris went after the shows. the man was always fixing something or resolving a problem.
“hi… may i come in?” you asked, standing by the door in case he asked you to leave him alone for a little bit.
instead, the brunette only smirked and opened his eyes at the sound of your voice. despite the chaos going on in his mind, the conflicting feelings, a part of him still felt a deep sense of relief in your presence; selfishly, rick wanted to have you around even though he knew he couldn't give you what you wanted and deserved.
"of course, sweet girl. come here.”
like the dumb teenager starstruck you were feeling like, you smiled and went to meet him.
“did you like the show?” he asked, taking your hand in his before pulling you to stand between his legs.
“i loved it. you were incredible, all of you.” ricky raised an eyebrow at your answer. “yes, all of you. don't act all dramatic now," you scolded him, rolling your eyes before changing your tone to a curious and confused one, "why did you guys perform city lights? you haven't in such a long time.”
“take a wild guess, star," he chuckled. his hands shifted towards your waist, inviting you to either sit on his lap or next to him on the couch. you opted for the second choice, afraid that someone would enter the room and catch the both of you in an indelicate position. “you told me last night at the pub it's your favourite song and it's your birthday weekend, you deserve something special.”
the words that left ricky's mouth haunted your thoughts for the rest of the time you spent there in his company and the band, that soon all returned for a little get together, since they would have more time until the next concert so it seemed like nobody felt the need to rush getting out of that venue or out of london.
it was close to eleven in the evening when the whole crew — makeup artists, dancers, producers, photographers and more — got together with the band in the greenroom that apparently had a balcony attached to it that you missed earlier. justin was the only one that had gone to the hotel so he could get to bed a bit earlier than the night before. vinny and your best friend were outside on the balcony with ryan and talitha, the drummer’s hand never once leaving her waist.
on the couch were you, rick, chris and angela talking about everything and anything at the same time. rick’s hand rested between your thighs which, in turn, were on top of his while your head rested on his chest.
“hey, you,” the guitarist holding you whispered above your head when chris and angela left to go get more pizza. around the two of you, people were talking and music was playing much like a party backstage of a big concert and yet, as soon as his smooth voice came in your direction, everything seemed to have been muted out for as long as he needed your attention, "would you like me to take you to your hotel? i don't know if you're comfortable here, but we can leave if you'd like.”
you shook your head in denial, a small close-mouthed smile on your lips. “i'm good, i promise. being here, getting to know everyone and them being so welcoming is quite literally a dream. don't worry about me.”
ricky smiled and kissed the top of your head, “you're too good to be true.” ⭒
somehow, you managed to convince your parents — and your best friend’s — that you two had won a competition in which the prize were two tickets for the motionless in white concert in milan. looking back, you wondered how the hell they believed in and trusted two kids to travel around europe alone for well over three weeks. either way, though, you got them to believe you and that was how you and she were cleared to travel along with the band to their next tour stop.
you traveled around milan with your best friend and sometimes with the guys and girls when they had free time to do so. what was supposed to be a week long trip to london for your birthday turned into a three week long trip that became the best trip of your life.
ricky and yours relationship was particularly difficult to label but the way he insisted on making sure you knew how special you were in his eyes gave you the peace of mind needed to continue on that journey. he verbalised his feelings, gave you kisses and hugs that healed every bit of insecurity you could possibly have in your heart; spending time with him never felt like a burden or unnatural, instead, it felt like swimming in the widest ocean. peaceful, quiet, healing.
or so you thought.
it was the night before the milan concert. you and rick were alone in your hotel room and he was waiting for you to come out of the shower and get ready so you two could go out for a “proper fancy dinner date”, as he'd worded.
right as you stepped out of the bathroom, outfit on and hair freshly done, you heard his voice but before you could say anything you found him talking on the phone with someone that, at first, you failed to understand who was.
“yeah, i missed you too. are you really here in milan?” he said with the largest smile you had ever seen on his lips. the same lips that offered you comforting words and wildfire kisses. for a second, you tried to convince yourself that it could be a family member. but your heart knew. “are you free tonight? i’ll come over and meet you. no, no, i'm not doing anything tonight. yeah, okay, just let me know. i love you. bye.”
unfortunately for you, your mouth seemed to work faster than your brain to stop it from asking: “who was that?”
and just like that, unlike before, your voice wasn't a source of relief and peace for the guitarist: it was one of terror. his face went pale upon hearing your question, the smile on his lips died as quickly as his body moved to get close to you as if that would somehow make it easier to digest.
“oh it was nobody important, my star. are you ready?”
feeling enraged by his audacity, you pushed his hand away from your cheeks and took a step back, "i don't go around saying i love you to people who aren't important to me, richard. who the fuck was that?”
his heart froze inside his chest at the face of such an adversity. for the first time in forever, ricky didn't know what to say to you: honesty would tear you apart from the inside much like deceiving you would. that was the worst possible scenario for him and yet, all he could think of was how he was going to get out of this situation without ruining his public reputation to his fans.
he took a deep breath and closed his grey eyes for a second. “my ex. i'm meeting her tonight.”
tears immediately invaded your eyes, even though your mind took longer than that to process the information that you had been nothing but a mere toy for him for the last few weeks. you trusted him with your heart, your respect, your deepest feelings for well over seven years and if that wasn't enough, your body for the first time in your insignificant existence in this world. crushed wasn't even a word destructive enough to begin explaining or expressing just how shallow you became in a matter of a few minutes. on a moment you were on top of the world, the next everything fell apart and you felt like a dirty mess.
a crumpling sensation began to take over you, numbing your senses and making you want to disappear into thin air. you didn't even have the strength or the energy to discuss with him.
“don't fucking talk to me ever again” you somehow got to say it before grabbing the few things you could carry, only to then head towards the door. “i really hope she breaks you like you're breaking me.”
and you closed the door feeling every tiny piece of once was your heart falling to the floor beneath your feet as you carried on your way to go back home as soon as possible.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⭒ part two... under the moonlight
#— ✴︎ 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧 !#— ✴︎ 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥 !#— ✴︎ 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 !#ricky olson#ricky horror#ricky horror olson#ricky olson x reader#ricky olson x you#ricky horrror x reader#miw#motionless in white#ricky olson x female reader#ricky olson fanfiction#miw fanfiction#miw fanfic#motionless in white fanfiction#ricky olson smut#ricky olson angst
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Boy did JJ and Tor do everything in their power with the material they were given, but that was so messy and had so many short cuts in the wrong places, imo.
At first I thought they really lost their moral grounding with Kan by what happened with Boss, but they really truly could have adjusted the narrative to have that clear tragic through line that they seemed to be going for and just didn't hit.
Ideally, we would have felt that tragedy acutely in their love scene, perhaps already having processed what happened with Tew's mother. If Tew had come to support Kan's ethical practice of euthanasia, but held him accountable for what he did to Boss, it could have been pointed out as a desperate reaction to a situation created by a system that does not support the practice.
If what Kan was doing was legal, so much of what happened could have been avoided - Tew's mother wouldn't have wanted to do this without his knowledge (she clearly knew her son would be compromised by the conflict between her wishes and the law), Boss' activities wouldn't have been conflated with what Kan was doing - in theory there wouldn't have been deaths with different MOs confusing the investigation, and obviously Boss couldn't use Kan's activities to blackmail Kan into becoming an actual murderer.
Tor and JJ gave their scene conflict so much emotion, but it couldn't fix the illogical beats of their relationship and the lack of character development on either of their parts. Neither of them saw anything differently. Tew didn't change how he saw euthanasia and Kan didn't seem to think what he did to Boss was wrong. If he did, they didn't hit on that at all. An ends justify the means mentality is the opposite of what you would argue in an ethical practice of euthanasia. It's the means that matter, which is why what Boss was doing wasn't euthanasia, even if he seemed to think so.
The messaging could be that one person (or two with On) can't move independently and navigate these issues on their own. This mess is the consequence of society not willing to face that there are some situations where this is the best treatment available to people. Ignoring that does nothing, and there are more extensive possible repercussions to doing so.
All in all, at least JJ and Tor kiss pretty. I would have probably been really annoyed to have watched 8 eps where they billed it as a BL and not gotten a kiss, but damn it, they were good at it and if I had real feelings about those characters as a couple I think I could have really gotten hooked up on the tragedy of circumstances these characters were caught up in and actually rooted for them.
#spare me your mercy#spoilers#honestly for the sake of the commentary this could have triggered I am especially sad#but it sounds like the source material punted on this too#I saw a take on mdl saying “it wasn't preachy” so I guess that is what they were going for as they “both sides”-ed the issue#mdy
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you may have already answered this but im obsessed with your ocs so: what kind of music do they all listen to? what's their relationships with music in general?
GREAT question. it's taken me a couple days to answer because i was like "this is probably not going to be surprising to anyone," but hey. we love character consistency. and i will use this as an excuse to plug some artists i like!
nova is the only one whose music taste does not overlap with my own at All. she's an EDM girlie through and through. the thumping bass is stimmy for her. the louder the better. unfortunately i do not have good EDM recs because my own autism recoils from it LMAO
ruby likes traditional music from home. lots of fiddle, lots of clapping, lots of singing. the kind of music you find going into a pub during a jam session. i also like to think her parents are musicians who met through their love of music... one group i really love is afro-celt sound system, which combines west african drums with celtic fiddle. i picture her parents' music sounding like this since she has a fantasy nigerian dad and fantasy irish mum. also, i imagine she listens to fantasy raidió na gaeltachta whenever she's alone. even though it makes her so homesick she feels like she's gonna throw up.
i think devin would LOVE shit like fire from the gods. really angry political rap metal. devin likes music loud and furious. anti-establishment vibes are Technically legal in tachni (as long as they don't "incite violence"), so. this type of band Absolutely exists.
like, take these lyrics from the song excuse me:
like. yeah. devin Needs This.
i think it would be cathartic Especially because devin has the rageful nazi-punching instincts of the best angry metal frontwomen, but has been given a life where she's basically being forced at gunpoint to be an american senator. Harrowing .
sol is the only one who Might be surprising.... i think she mostly listens to soft, sometimes-emotional piano. she wants everything to be quiet forever & i don't think she'd get much out of angry music. i like to picture her listening to stuff like this gorgeous piece by elijah brossenbroek. he's one of my favorite favorite Favorite composers of All Time. i actually bought a book of his pieces for my sister to learn years ago & he was very kind in the emails we exchanged!
#replies#original fiction#original fiction quartet#devin#sol#ruby#nova#music#music recs#sort of#several fire from the gods songs are on devin's playlist. they're now my go to band when i wanna listen to stuff that's Mad As Hell.#devin's political position is actually way worse than being an american senator but#'forced to be an american senator' is a funny string of words. so i'm spreading misinformation on tumblr.gov
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the hewitts (and eddie!) after the 1973 massacre
(here are eddie and thomas; context and full drawing below!)
in the novelization of the 2003 movie, it’s said that the fbi mishandled everything surrounding the 1973 massacre. the government declares thomas hewitt dead and makes no mention of his family—so it can be assumed that they’re legally dead too. this is in part due to negligence and also malpractice, as everyone involved just wanted to get the case done and over with. in 1981, the hewitts’ farmhouse is bulldozed over and the basement is filled with cement. erin hardesty is sent to a mental asylum, and the baby she saved is put into the foster care system.
obviously, the police didn’t kill thomas. everyone else aside from charlie came out of the massacre (relatively) unscathed. if that’s the case, where did they go? here’s what i’m thinking!
note: this is all pretty self-indulgent and made-up by me! this is just how i choose to continue the story.
so the hewitts are left with absolutely nothing after erin escapes. no money, no home, and clothes other than those on their back. this fact doesn’t really change when you add eddie into the story. in fact, erin gets into a fight with him while in the basement and ends up shooting his left pinky and ring finger off! so fun!
they’d be on the road for a long, long time afterwards, homeless and just trying to survive. i figure that they could’ve taken two vans (they had taken a lot of cars from victims over the years, after all) and lived in them during this time, fleeing the state. they’d be starving again, and i think that’d send them back into this constant state of intense stress, like the one they were in before the killing started.
luckily, eddie would have connections to people that create false identification. prior to meeting the family, eddie had a fake i.d. made with the name “jackson hughes”—the same people who provided him with that i.d. would offer falsified birth certificates and SSNs too. this would cost a lot of money, however, so i imagine the family spent a long while lying, stealing, and begging all across the country to gather it all up. of course i’ve never gone through the process of being declared legally dead and buying a new identity in the 1970s, so i have no idea how much it would cost exactly, but let’s just say it takes three years to save up all the money.
so by 1976, the hewitt family legally does not exist anymore, having been killed off and forgotten. that same year, the “howard” family moves to the small, rural town of elksville, wyoming. here are all the name changes i came up with! (for the hewitts who don’t have canon middle names, i made those up too) (can you tell i took on a lot of creative liberty here)
thomas brown hewitt → raymond “ray” paul howard
luda mae hewitt → evelyn ann howard
montgomery “monty” lee hewitt → ernest john howard
kathryn ann hewitt → noelle helen howard
henrietta louise hewitt → virginia “ginny” lynn howard
jedidiah paul hewitt → william lee howard
eddie amar reid → eugene joseph roberts
i actually don’t think the family would fully go back to their cannibalistic, murderous schemes. without hoyt there, and after all they’d experienced, i think luda mae (who was already the head of the family before, but would now have the final say over everything) would just want to be left alone? having her first son die would really take a toll on her, i think. perhaps she’d see it as god himself coming down and trying to teach her a lesson by taking charlie away from her (and taking thomas’ arm, too). so she’d order that the family just keep to themselves. “this is our chance to start anew.”
don’t be fooled, though. none of the “howards” are normal folk. i feel that they’d have an eerie reputation among their small number of neighbors, especially since they’re known for being aggressive with trespassers (i can see them having “TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT” signs on their fence). “eugene”, their “family friend”, would be the only one consisently seen around town, making minimal social interaction with other people. even he seems… strange, when you look at him. most folks choose to keep their distance.
design/character details:
eddie would cut his hair and grow out his facial hair in an attempt to separate himself from his identity as the rockstar killer. he's a much calmer person now, sort of more grown up? mellowed out? he still deals with violent urges, but he's more restrained. he takes his anger out on trespassers.
thomas grows his hair wayyy out to better obscure his face, since he can't wear masks anymore. i debated giving him facial hair, and settled on a patchy mustache and absolutely no beard hair. as a character, i think thomas would become so much more tired. for the first couple years, he'd be quicker to anger/frustrate. with the second chance his family's been given, he doesn't really want to interact with anyone from the outside world. he's done with it.
hope you all enjoy this i've been Thinking about it for a while........ buh bye!!!
#artwork#tcm#the texas chainsaw massacre#texas chainsaw massacre#leatherface#thomas hewitt#eddie amar reid#luda mae hewitt#monty hewitt#henrietta hewitt#kathryn hewitt#jedidiah hewitt#tcm headcanons#tcm oc#oc x canon#oc x cc#text
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Kyle came to pick you up. By now the two of you were buddies, with him treating you like a younger sibling. There are plenty of memes exchanged between the two of you, and you’ve tagged along with him on more than one occasion. He knows a lot about cars, and you’ve helped him work on a couple vehicles. Turns out he works at a small mechanic shop. Never overcharges people, or pulls fake expenses. Has a tendency to undercharge but sometimes gets something of equal value.
You get in the passenger seat and putting your bag in the backseat. You notice a few small things in the back. Kyle starts driving and you stretch in the seat.
“Seat belt.” He says and you put it on.
“Peach wine?” You ask. Kyle gives a half smile keeping his eyes on the road.
“She insisted on giving a whole case.” Kyle says. One of his customers was an older lady who made wine on the side. She couldn’t always cover the costs of her old run down vehicle getting repaired so Kyle settled for a bottle of her wine to cover the rest. “Gonna let Price try some and serve it at the pub.”
“Speaking of drinks, do the guys like ice tea with popping boba?” You ask.
“Don’t think so.”
“Woo!” You cheer. More for you! You sit back in your seat, watching out the window. The drive is a longer one than necessary. After some time, you notice a few landmarks out of place. You suspect someone is following you two, and Kyle is trying to get them to leave you both alone.
“Had a visitor.” You say, wanting to fill the quiet drive. “Milena Romanova.”
“The hell did she want?” Kyle says, checking his mirrors.
“Gave me an invitation to a gathering. Offered to show some of my work at open houses. Graves was there too but he got there before Milena.”
“He broke in?” Kyle asks. Graves sounded like a toxic ex.
“No, he has my spare key. He was there before I got there, I talked to Milena and then found out he was around.” You exclaim. It’s quiet in the car for a bit. The purring engine fills the silence as he mutters something checking behind him.
“I told him about the raid.” You say. If anyone would take it calmly, it was Kyle. The car feels even quieter, though. Telling Graves hadn’t been decided yet. Kyle is fidgeting a little with the wheel, staring forward. “I’m sor-“
“Don’t say sorry to me.” He says, and you can hear more in his voice. You've heard a similar tone when someone brought the wrong tires after they were late for their tire change. There’s a pause as he straightens in the seat and speeds up a little, making it through a yellow light before making a turn and then another. There’s a pause while you check the side mirror to see if anyone is still following. After a few minutes, you don’t recognize any of the vehicles that were behind you before the light.
“Price has issues with the police since Graves and what happened with Makarov. If he can avoid them he does, but right now, we need all the help we can get, and if Graves can give us the legal system we should be taking it.” Kyle says. He has a look of determination in his eyes. One you haven’t seen in him much, except for when you’d seen him go out with Price for “work” or defend someone in a fight. He glances at you while waiting at a red light.
“Graves tell you what to do?” He asks. You nod. Kyle nods as if he already knows the instructions himself. There’s another pause waiting for the light to turn green. He looks at you directly.
“Did you actually record the conversation?” Kyle asks.
“Yep.” You say smiling. “I don’t think she’s seen the work I did of her.”
Kyle is laughing as he steps on the gas, the light green now. “You should go to that gathering just to see the look on her face.”
“She’ll likely simmer down by then. Not sure if I want to go if Makarov is there.”
“He’s supposed to be there?” Kyle asks.
“Probably. I mean Milena came to my apartment and when she saw me, she tried to make the excuse that my unit was up for sale. I assume Makarov gave her my address. She even stood there waiting for me. Could've put it in my mailbox or slid it under the door. Clearly, they want me to know they can find me.”
“You don’t want to see him?” Kyle inquires, though the answer is fairly obvious. He doesn't blame you.
“I... I don't think I'm ready to face him yet. Not alone, with a crowd of people." You answer.
Kyle pulls into a parking spot not far from the safe house apartment. He carries the wine, while you haul your bag. You both walk in and find Laswell chatting with Price. You haven’t seen Laswell since meeting John Price for the first time. After putting your bag in your bedroom you come back out and make some tea. Kyle has the small crate on the kitchen counter and is getting a couple of glasses for Price and Laswell to try. You take your seat at the bar and notice a similar envelope to your own invitation.
“You got invited?” You wonder aloud. Laswell looks at you and then where you’re looking.
“You got one?” She asks. You hold it up and John’s expression changes with the lift of an eyebrow. Laswell’s eyes go to her laptop, where you see some stuff but you’re not sure what exactly it is. You don’t want to inquire either.
Kyle hands both Price and Laswell a glass of the wine. You look at Kyle and then look between the two others while they try the wine. Do you tell them about Graves? Kyle folds his arms, looks at the floor, and then back at you. He gives you a slight shrug as an answer. You can, but that “you can” is gonna be loaded.
“Graves told me to leave an anonymous tip about the raid.” You blurt out. Kyle looks away while Price and Laswell look at you. The two of them are old enough to be your parents but damn do they feel like it this moment. You look between trying to figure out whose face to settle on. You pick Laswell but she just shakes her head and returns to her laptop. Thanks, Laswell, now you’re stuck facing the giant bear that is Price. You look at him and his face says something but you don't know what it is. It’s like reading a book highlighted with a black sharpie.
“I can call him off, tell him not to.” You say, wanting to back out of the whole thing.
“Tell who?” Johnny asks coming out of the hall. When did he get here?
“Tell Graves not to be at the raid.” You blurt out again. Johnny was reaching for the fridge until he stopped and gave you the same expression as John. Seriously how did they do that? That is impressively coordinated. You try looking to Kyle, hoping he'll weigh in. Nope. Kyle is not even making eye contact with you just looking at the ground. There is tension and you hate it.
“I’ll tell him not to.” You say breaking eye contact with them and staring down at the counter top.
“Send the tip.” John says, biting back some annoyance. “At the very least Graves can keep the damage down and focus on Makarov’s men.”
You didn’t realize you were holding breath until Price finished talking. Johnny goes back to the fridge, letting the tension die out.
“This is home made?” Price asks Kyle who finally looks up from the floor as if he were never trying to hide from the conversation.
“Yeah.” Kyle says. You eye Soap while the two continue talking and he’s distracted. You both know the risks that could come, and the differing amount of trust you both have in Graves. Time would tell.
“If you’re going to that gathering, you probably shouldn’t go in ripped jeans and a hoodie.” Laswell comments the next day. She’d come back to the hideout fairly early. Thinking about it, you can’t recall her leaving, since you went to bed early. You woke up, got dressed and came out to find her remaking the pot of coffee.
“Not sure I want to go.” You reply checking to see what in the fridge was still edible. You find some left over chicken, but the stray could have that after feeding her kits. You find a protein bar, and settle, sitting up on the counter.
“Because of Makarov?” She asks. You shrug, but she’s right. You never met the man face to face but if he was enough to make everyone treat him like the plague you were hardly eager to shake his hand.
“Makarov is a smart man, he won’t do anything to you when you’re there.” She says.
“You don’t know that.” You counter, rubbing your arm. Laswell notices you tugging on your sleeve. She lets the coffee brew while standing in front of you. Laswell holds out her hand and you already know what she wants. You offer your wrist and pull the sleeve back showing the fairly nasty bruise. It is healing but hasn’t by much.
Kate looks up at you while you’re focused on the bruise. You’d been in gun fights before. Someone grabbing your wrist and squeezing until you bruised was an experience you had no interest in repeating. At least not like that. Nolan had found you again and grabbed at you. He tried dragging you to a car but your quick thinking to bite his wrist got him off. It left you with the taste of his blood in your mouth and an impression on your skin. You’d kept it to yourself though.
“What happened?” Kate asks. Her voice is calm, likely not the first time this has happened. She isn't demanding an answer. You tell her and she listens. No scolding or shaming you for not saying anything or not doing something more. You almost wish she would because at times you feel like a kid in this group. You expect her to say you did your best and it’s not your fault. Kate doesn’t though. Instead, she tugs the sleeve back down.
“Good work. You may not be able to get him arrested but he won’t forget the bite anytime soon.” She says. You smile, feeling a little proud of yourself.
“If you can do this, then I think you can handle Makarov. Especially since I’ll be there as with officer Alex.” Kate says.
“You think I should go?” You ask.
“You don’t have to, but if you want… it would give you a chance to see some very humorous reactions to your work,” Kate says taking a sip of newly poured coffee.
Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @tai-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666
#cod au#john soap mactavish#task force 141 x reader#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#kate laswell#gangster au#cod gangster au#gn reader#gender neutral reader#call of duty modern warfare#little bit of tension before the good shit#and by that i mean angst#tf 141 x reader
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I was exactly halfway into my second pregnancy, and up until that point, we were so ecstatic to be expecting again — a baby we’d been praying for. We kept talking about and imagining the joy it would be to bring our new baby home to meet our 2-year-old daughter. But at my 20-week ultrasound, a day that is supposed to be full of excitement and awe, we received devastating news. Our baby, a second daughter, had many severe and insurmountable skeletal and organ issues. Fetal specialists told us that it was extremely unlikely she could survive because all her major organ systems had significant development issues. We were blindsided and heartbroken, and yet somehow clear-minded. We chose to do what we believed was best for our unborn daughter as well as for our family; because that is what you do as parents. And we saw the choice we ultimately made as an act of love for her. We respect and honor that other parents have chosen — and will continue to choose — the only other option our doctor suggested to us — to let the pregnancy take its natural course and provide specialist or palliative care as needed. And that is the point. Individuals and their families — no matter where they happen to live — must be able to make the best choice for them. They need to be free to choose their own act of love. I believe now more than ever that anyone’s reason for seeking an abortion is valid. Who are we to say it isn’t? What we didn’t know when we made our decision was that in addition to being so difficult emotionally, it would be made so much worse by the abortion bans recently enacted in Idaho. Because of these cruel laws, my Idaho doctors could not provide me with an abortion — something they could easily have done before Roe v. Wade was overturned — in my own community supported by family and friends. We had to spend the following days cold-calling countless clinics in nearby states where abortion is still legal, but found out that because of all the other new abortion bans in states across the country, many clinics had closed, most had no open appointments for several weeks, and still others considered my pregnancy, at 20 weeks, too far along for me to receive care. The thought of waiting out this pregnancy, possibly for weeks, or however long, while trying to get through the day working as a chiropractor and still being active and present for our toddler was more than I could handle. All I could think about was whether the daughter I was carrying was already suffering; my anxiety and sadness were overwhelming. We both felt hopeless and heartbroken until we reached a Seattle clinic with a last-minute cancellation. Although relieved, there was so much we had to do to get there in the haze of our grief. There were flights to make, hotels to book, a car to rent and medical care our health insurance would not cover because we were going out of state to access and receive it. One of the most tragic — and degrading — parts of our situation was knowing that people in my home state of Idaho believe this is acceptable, denying me bodily autonomy. We will always be grateful to the clinic and team in Seattle for offering us professional, compassionate care. I am a person of faith and for months after my abortion, I kept telling Brandon there had to be something positive that would come out of this experience. Several months later, I learned that the Center for Reproductive Rights was putting together a challenge to Idaho’s abortion laws, and I knew immediately that moving forward as a plaintiff in the case was something I had to do. I’m proud to be one of the many women and doctors challenging and broadening these laws. Physicians in Idaho must have greater discretion over when abortion exceptions are warranted, and the decision should be the patient’s in consultation with their doctors.
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i have recently been brainrotting about a batkids racing au. all of them have either shitty home-lives or have had their home-lives taken away and all turn to the concepts of semi-legal street racing as an outlet. in the process, they meet people perhaps in the same boat-- perhaps a family.
Dick
around 21, has been racing since he was 15
likes riding smaller cars. the tighter fit the better. if it's not sleek and swervy he doesn't want it.
had caring parents who he travelled the world with by car, but they died in a car crash when he was 11. due to lack of living relatives, he was in the foster system for 4 years before Barry (Allen) took him in. he never saw Barry as a father, however, and was never officially adopted. basically Wally's roommate and Bart's older brother figure in a way.
Wally introduced him to the street racing world, and despite being very very reluctant at first (car crash trauma), Wally showed him all the good parts of it and he's loved it ever since
experienced racer, everyone there loves him and he's well known as one of the top racers
Jason
20, been racing since 17
he generally prefers driving motorcycles but make no mistake he will shred you no matter what racing vehicle you give him (he's competitive.) in terms of street/car racing he will go for anything with powerful acceleration.
his dad was a mechanic and Jason would sometimes help him out with car repairs when he was younger, although his dad would sometimes drop a bit too much workload on him and not really care for his well-being
mom was a recovering drug addict, cared for Jay but couldn't be around much due to both rehab and hospital visits
his dad was later arrested for underground drug dealing, dying in prison and his mom died of overdose. at 13, he was in the foster system for more or less a year before he ran, living on the streets for 3 more years, doing odd jobs.
at 16, he met Roy, who later (at 17) introduced him to street racing. Jason always had a knack for cars and with his natural talent he won quite a few of his first races, earning money from the betting pools and has been basically splitting rent and crashing with Roy ever since.
absolute MENACE of a racer. showed up at some point and basically showed most people up. can and will judge your car model. might steal your tires for the funsies.
Tim
18, new to the racing scene (been racing since 17) but knows A LOT about it through his own love for motorsports (he definitely has car posters in his room)
will drive any car. literally. he will just love it if you give him a car. in fact, give him a broken one so that he can make it BETTER than everyone else's.
lovely and wealthy parents, but they aren't around much. they honestly try their best, but when you're an only child in a big house it can get boring and lonely. he loves his parents and his mom was the one who first showed him motorsports when she was working on a business deal with a motorsport company (Tim got his first free car poster that day)
definitely takes pictures of cool cars he sees
as soon as he found out about the street racing ring in Gotham he immediately snuck in (age 15)
he would come practically every night he could and made friends with the younger racers (bart, cassie, kon) (they 100% would go to him for geeky car tech tips)
one time bart was sick for a race and cassie and kon asked tim to step in for him on the team, tim did-- he performed so naturally well that he caught the attention of other racers, decided to stay with the YJ team permanently
commonly referred to as a rising star, a prodigy in the racing scene
Damian
15, literally raised into motorsports. god knows when he drove his first car. he started officially racing in the street ring only recently, but already has a reputation as one of the best
preference for aerodynamic cars. the sleeker the better for him.
commonly underestimated by new racers
bruce is still his bio dad, he literally funds most the betting pools and co-runs the street racing ring under the guise of a totally normal auto repair store
hella competitive, will do everything to outshine you especially if you look down on him
LOVES painting on his car. like everyone customises theirs to a certain point but Damian will sit there for hours just painting on it.
does NOT care for the betting pools, if he wins he will just put all the money right back in. he just wants to win and beat you LMAO
#tim drake#batfam#batman#dc comics#jason todd#damian wayne#dick grayson#rays racing bats au#hehe#they are SO COMPETITIVE in this one its insane#dick when he sees jay and tim mop the floor with everyone js like he did:#im keeping 'em.#jay seeing tim fix a car:#my apprentice now
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Watching The Split: Barcelona like
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Anyway, I have THOUGHTS.
There is NO WAY Christie wouldn't have come back from NY for Hannah. He has been in love with her since he was a teenage, he never got over her, but we're meant to believe he was just like, "lol no your family is too much"?! I don't fucking think so.
Liv was annoying in the series and honestly, she's even more annoying in the special. I would have much rather have had it been say, Nina's wedding to someone she loved since she got a weak storyline that offered no character growth anyway.
How were Nathan and Hannah OK with Liv, who is like 20, getting married?! All the shit they've been through themselves and seen and it's just like, "Yeah, this is fine."
Speaking of Nathan: didn't we already resolve all this "I'm having a midlife crisis and I still love Hannah but I'm with Kate now" stuff at the end of s3? If Nathan was going to be there, a better storyline would be him and Hannah having to come together to try and convince Liv to call of the wedding.
I get that Tillie and Vinnie never really had any storyline or even dialogue in the series, but it was still a pretty weird move to just have them backpacking (?) and then Facetiming but we don't see them.
While I'm sure in 2024 vicars do have sex outside marriage, I find it pretty hard to believe the Church of England would be happy if a vicar got a woman who wasn't his wife pregnant. I mean, Glen seemed very nonchalant that Rose didn't want to get married and it was weird.
That whole Archie having a fake fiancee plot point was just plain weird, very Hallmark movie-esque and frankly, made no sense; why, exactly, would Alvaro want his secret mistress at his son's wedding under the guise of her being engaged to another man?
I know that a lot of the law stuff has always been very sketchy factually, but English solicitors just instantly knowing how to navigate the Spanish legal system was farcical.
I generally think Abi Morgan is a great writer - I loved s1 and s2 of TS, although s3 made me go hmm in a good few places - but the writing on this was not it. One of the only moments I really liked was the scene between Archie and Hannah at the end where she's talking about feeling insecure and sacred, despite me obviously not being for their relationship.
Anyway, I spent the whole thing thinking up a way I can make a fix-it fic where Christie comes back into Hannah's life with a good reason why he didn't come back and I might have the germ of an idea... (Also, definitely still gonna finish my canon continuation incase anyone might be wondering.)
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