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irisbroadwaygurugram · 1 month

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In the epic of Ramayana, Lord Hanuman exemplified unwavering loyalty, boundless strength, and infinite compassion. His life story teaches us the importance of faith and service to humanity. Let’s reflect on the lessons he imparts and seek his guidance. Wishing you all a blessed Hanuman Jayanti.

#Trehan #TrehanIris #IrisBroadway #IBGW #HanumanJayanti #Strength #Devotion #Perseverance #Faith #Compassion

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irisbroadwaygrenowest · 1 month

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#Trehan #TrehanIris #IrisBroadway #IBGW #HanumanJayanti #Strength #Devotion #Perseverance #Faith #Compassion

#In the epic of Ramayana #Lord Hanuman exemplified unwavering loyalty #boundless strength #Trehan #TrehanIris #IrisBroadway #IBGW #HanumanJayanti #Strength #Devotion #Perseverance #Faith #Compassion #trehanirisbroadway #realestate #trehanirisfamily #irisbroadwaynoida #premiumcommercialproperty

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trehan-iris · 1 month

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#Trehan #TrehanIris #IrisBroadway #IBGW #HanumanJayanti #Strength #Devotion #Perseverance #Faith #Compassion

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purefilly-connection · 12 days

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Embracing Sacrifice: A Journey of Growth and Determination

What sacrifices have you made in life? Growing up, life was a series of sacrifices. From saving for a house to forgoing non-essential desires to secure the car or the vacation we dreamed of, sacrifice was a constant companion. It wasn’t just about denying ourselves; it was about strategically setting aside immediate pleasures for long-term gains. Each sacrifice was a step towards a better…

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blessmeultima00 · 5 months

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In the deepening twilight, a woman of countenance both serene and wild stood against the backdrop of the endless sky, a canvas bespeckled with faint stars whispering the secrets of the universe. Her auburn tresses, teased by the gentle breeze, danced around her earnest face like flames catching the last rays of the vanishing sun. The waning light caressed her visage, highlighting the soft curves of her cheeks and the delicate strength of her jaw.

Her eyes, reflecting the very soul of the dusk, glistened with the profound depths of a restless sea. Lost in reflection, she appeared to be in communion with the far-off constellations, drawing wisdom from their silent stories. The set of her mouth spoke not of sadness, but of a contemplative yearning, as if she stood on the cusp of an epiphany that promised the freedom akin to the boundless sky above.

In her presence, you could almost hear the whispered songs of Kate Chopin's characters, sung from the corners of yesterday, empowering the silence around her with the melody of quiet determination and the subtle rebellion of spirits untamed. She was not merely looking; she was envisioning, not merely existing; she was alive with the pulsing energy of possibility that dances on the horizon where the heavens meet the earth.

#twilight #auburn hair #serene expression #reflection #contemplative #freedom #boundless sky #wisdom #strength #dusk #possibility

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maglife17 · 9 months

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Limitless God!

“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people,” Titus 2:11 When God’s grace meticulously orchestrates your steps, it might lead others to perceive you as arrogant. It is essential to remember that their misunderstanding stems from an inability to comprehend the divine guidance cradling your journey. As you walk in alignment with God’s will, your path may appear seamless…

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#Limitless God #Transcendent Source of Life #All-encompassing Divinity #Boundlessness in Love and Mercy #Endless Deity #Eternal Creator #Eternal Presence and Guidance #Everlasting Omnipotence #Immeasurable Spiritual Force #Immense Strength and Protection #Infinite Divine Being #Infinite Grace and Forgiveness #Infinite Providence #Limitless Wisdom and Knowledge #Maglifedaily #Unbounded Almighty #Unlimited Higher Power #Vast Cosmic Energy #sBoundless Supreme Power

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kymsys · 2 months

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'It was late spring, the first time all year that the sunshine had any real strength behind it. Satoru was wittering on about something inane as always — Tentomon or something equally ridiculous.

There was nothing special about the moment. Not really. Except for the fact that Satoru had shrugged off his jacket in the heat. It was draped around his shoulders just so, exposing the long column of his throat, pale after a long winter. Really, there was nothing special about the moment. But when Suguru looked at the boy silhouetted against the spring sky, bright and blue and boundless and beautiful — just like his eyes, Suguru thought — his heart skipped a beat all the same. With all the sight afforded to him, Satoru never missed a thing. So it was risky, what Suguru did. Later, when he was looking at his new phone wallpaper under the cover of darkness, grinning like an idiot, he'd wonder how he ever got away with it. Yet, if Suguru's yearning to capture that perfectly ordinary moment forever was stronger than all reason, perhaps it was stronger than the Six Eyes, too. After all, not even Satoru could stop time.' - by my beloved @fushiglow ♥

(( also glo says: FUN FACT! Tentomon is voiced by Suguru's VA — ergo it's Satoru's favourite Digimon, obviously )) ---------------------------------------------------------

freshly added headcanons: • gojo at some point randomly barged into sugurus room and put glowy stickers all over his ceiling • suguru has gojo as his phone wallpaper, but keeps it a secret • suguru is a hamasaki ayumi fan • the cinnamoroll phone charm is from gojo who spent almost an eternity getting that out of a gatcha machine for him • they were happy

#look what glo did #pls all go check out glos writing #so basically i made a small little sketch of gojo and the glo came up with this whole ass cute story around it #AND I LOVED IT SO MUCH THAT I HAD TO DRAW IT #and here we are #i love them so much #i feel very normal about them #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #satosugu #stsg #jjk #kymsys art

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fragileheartbeats · 5 months

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⌗ 𝘑𝘑𝘒 𝘏𝘊 ⁝ 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮? ( ♡ )

— 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶, 𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪, 𝘠𝘶𝘫𝘪, 𝘚𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢, 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰, 𝘚𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘶, 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪, 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰, 𝘠𝘶𝘵𝘢 <3

˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 | 五条悟 ─ 𓇼

When Satoru Gojo loves, it's like a tempestuous dance of wit and charm. His love is a symphony of playful banter and passionate embraces. His eyes hold the secrets of a thousand stars, and his touch ignites the very essence of your being. In the quiet moments, he whispers sonnets of adoration, and in the chaos, his laughter is the melody that soothes your soul. With him, love is an adventure, an uncharted territory that he's eager to explore with you, hand in hand, through the trials and triumphs of life.

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 | 伏黒恵 ─ 𔒌

Megumi's love is a sonnet of gentle whispers and soulful gazes. His affection is like a melody, soft and haunting, weaving its way into the very fabric of your being. He expresses his love through words, each one a testament to the depth of his feelings. With him, love is a quiet symphony, where every note resonates with the promise of understanding and unwavering support.

𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 | 虎杖悠仁 ─ 𓐐𓎩

Yuji's love is a ballad of laughter and playful affection. His love is a dance, filled with joy and lighthearted moments that linger in your heart. He expresses his affection through kindness, each one a reflection of his boundless energy and unwavering loyalty. With him, love is an adventure, where every step is a testament to the strength of his love and the depth of his devotion.

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 | 宿儺 ─ 𓇢𓆸

Sukuna's love is like a forbidden sonnet, dark and intense. His affection is a double-edged sword, dangerous and all-consuming. In his eyes, you see the storm of centuries past, but within it, there's a tempestuous passion that threatens to unravel your resolve. His touch is a promise of protection, and his gaze, a whispered confession of possessiveness. To love him is to dance on the edge of darkness, where danger and desire intertwine in a hauntingly beautiful ballet.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 | 七海建人 ─ ☘︎

Kento's love is a gentle melody, composed of unwavering support and quiet devotion. His affection is a steady lighthouse in the tempest of life, guiding you home with every glance and touch. He expresses his love through tenderness, each one a testament to his undying commitment. With him, love is a tranquil river, flowing with the promise of constancy and security, where every ripple tells the story of a love that stands the test of time.

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 | 夏油傑 ─ 𓆉

Geto's love is a tapestry of shared silences and stolen glances. His affection is like a vintage love letter, filled with wisdom and longing. He expresses his devotion through the gift of time, sharing quiet sunsets and starlit nights with you. His love is a sanctuary, a place where your vulnerabilities are cherished, and your dreams take flight. With him, love is a journey of understanding, where every moment is a verse in an epic poem written just for you.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 | 伏黒甚爾 ─ 𓆤

Toji's love is a sonnet of subtle gestures and unspoken emotions. His love is like a rare flower, blooming in the most unexpected places. He expresses his love through tender touches and silent reassurances, each one a confession of his unyielding devotion. With him, love is a secret garden, where every whispered promise and stolen moment is a testament to the depth of his feelings for you.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 | 脹相 ─ 𖤣𖥧

Choso's love is like a carefully crafted poem, each word a reflection of his understanding of your heart. He expresses his love through giving, each gift a token of his adoration and appreciation. With him, love is a canvas waiting to be painted, where every stroke of his affection creates a masterpiece of cherished moments and treasured memories.

𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔 | 乙骨憂太 ─ ✉

Yuta's love is a gentle hymn, filled with compassion and understanding. His affection is like a warm embrace, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety and acceptance. He expresses his love through quiet moments and heartfelt conversations, each one a testament to his unwavering support and unyielding strength. With him, love is a haven, where every breath is a reminder of the depth of his feelings and the beauty of his soul.

MASTERLIST

@fragileheartbeats . Don't plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

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deception-united · 1 month

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Let's talk about writing fantasy.

Fantasy is one of my favourite genres, to read and to write. But the worldbuilding required and the existing tropes can make it difficult to craft a unique, compelling novel. There are a number of less-discussed nuances that might not always be at the forefront of writing discussions. Here are some tips to help you out:

Ground it in reality: Even though fantasy allows for boundless imagination, grounding your world in elements familiar to readers can make it more relatable and believable. Making it too otherworldly can make it difficult to understand or follow, and will likely make it much more difficult to interweave the explanation of your world and its society into the text seamlessly.

Consistency: Fantasy worlds can be complex, with their own rules, magic systems, and histories. Ensure consistency in your worldbuilding, avoiding contradictions or sudden changes without explanation. I find it helpful to keep a world bible or notes to track details and maintain coherence throughout the story.

Character-driven plots: While epic battles and magical quests are exciting, don't forget that compelling characters drive the heart of any story. Develop multi-dimensional characters with strengths, weaknesses, and personal arcs that resonate with readers (see my post on character development for more).

Avoid clichés and stereotypes: Fantasy often draws from familiar tropes and archetypes, but try not to rely on them too heavily. Subvert expectations and breathe new life into old conventions by adding unique twists or exploring lesser-known mythologies and cultures. Make it your own!

Magic has consequences: Magic adds wonder to fantasy worlds, but it should also have limitations and consequences. Consider the societal, environmental, and personal impacts of magic on your world and characters. A well-defined magic system can enhance the depth and realism of your story.

Worldbuilding through storytelling: Instead of dumping large chunks of exposition, reveal your fantasy world gradually through character interactions, dialogue, and plot progression. Show, don't tell, and let readers piece together the intricacies of your world as they journey through your story (check out my previous post on worldbuilding for more tips).

Embrace diversity: Fantasy worlds should reflect the diversity of our own world. Include characters from various backgrounds, cultures, and identities, and explore themes of inclusivity and acceptance within your narrative.

Conflict beyond good vs. evil: While the battle between good and evil is a classic fantasy trope, consider adding layers of moral ambiguity and complexity to your conflicts. Explore themes of power, redemption, and the consequences of choices made in the face of adversity.

Research is essential: Even in a world of imagination, research plays a crucial role in grounding your story in reality. Whether it's drawing inspiration from historical events, cultural practices, or scientific principles, thorough research can enrich your worldbuilding and add depth to your narrative. Even fantasy worlds and elements require some sort of basis to make them more believable.

Revise: Like any genre, writing fantasy requires extensive revision and polishing. Be prepared to revise your manuscript multiple times, seeking feedback from beta readers or critique partners to strengthen your story, characters, and worldbuilding.

Happy writing!

#writeblr #writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writing resources #creative writing #plot development #worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #fantasy #fantasy writing #deception-united

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anantaru · 10 months

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Wriothesley being rough with his s/o (thank you for your masterpieces miss yoru😋😘)

cw. rough n needy, fem! reader

a/n. wrio is cumming and so am i

you could feel how wriothesley was affirmatively humming and pondering against your warm skin, an aimless, tinkering tune playing over your neck and collarbones as rapid tremors travelled down your entire back, taking your breath away, goosebumps emerging on your frame right after.

effortlessly, he keeps your hips down with his bare hands, pinning you to the bed while rushing himself into your cunt, no hesitation, not doing it soft nor sluggish, for some specific reason it almost gave the impression away as if wriothesley was somewhat selfish and indulgent with your body tonight, taking you so fucking well that your shaking legs were about to turn numb and harvest a deep rooted burn of fatigue, yet he was the one splitting them apart, because— he required enough space in order to fit in between you.

you take him deeper and moan into his mouth when he bites your lip, gracefully milking his throbbing cock, your eyes glossed over with boundless crystalline pebbles as you scratch a long, deep line on wrio's defined back, your nails sauntering up and down his flexed muscles while he's pistoling his cock into you— not hard enough to break his skin but edging pretty fucking close to it.

the blistering, fiery heat of his body against your own figure was way more than enough to make any little complaint die inside of you— it's easier to see that wriothesley underestimates his own strength at times but you do not push him away and welcome it, sighing into his messy kisses, noticing his grunting— his sounds edged within sharp, low rumbles that rattle into your flesh.

it's intimate and adds greatly to the stimulation on your cunt. wrio breaks the kiss, and you thirst the look on his handsome face, the husky exhales whenever you ran your fingers over the frazzled, large muscles on his back;

"you're making me lose my mind."

he grins without shame, covering his face in your neck, the thought of having the oh so distinguished lord of meropide blatantly admit this to you, no, simplified— filthily moan it into your ear without any shame while he hides the pink, pretty blush on his face was intoxicating, your hips jerking forward at the obscene sounds, twisting your insides around his girth as you feel hot and sticky all around him, liquids dripping down your thighs, drying up, making a mess, and most importantly, fueling the arising lust in the air.

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin impact wriothesley x reader

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mirnightghost · 10 months

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Tw: blood

...it was supposed to be a comic, but a lot went wrong, so..keep this little description:

Sticky, warm blood spread across his chest, trying to hide the terrible wounds left by the cold metal. The eyelids grew heavy, and the boundless darkness crept up to forever take the knight into his silent realm of death. "Ambrosius...I'm...sorry."

Hands gently but tightly wrapped around his body. "Shh, it's okay, it's okay"

Oh, that voice. So dear to him voice now repeated these words with pain like a mantra, as if it could change something. But breathing became harder and harder every moment. “Oh no no no no don’t leave me. Bal, please don't leave me alone!"

Now it was like a prayer. A prayer that heavens will never hear. But the knight in dark armor heed this prayer. And hundreds of thoughts and words that he would like to say ran through his mind. And then everything went quiet. And he plunged into darkness.

I have to say that I am not a writer, so the structure of the text and the words may seem strange. Sorry~

Anyway, I would like to share with you the context of what is going on here and why!

I thought that, as in all existing societies, there will always be those who are against changes. It so happened historically that not all people are ready for changes, because changes are always scary. And, of course, no matter how heartbreaking the scene with Nimona is, you can never get the respect of the entire kingdom. Especially the elite, which can lose control. Since Ambrosius remained the only "main" person of the kingdom, he did the main work of changing people's minds. And that part of the elite that was against it, saw it as a conspiracy. Allegedly, Ambrosius did this not for the benefit of society, but for the benefit of his partner. Therefore, the ranks of the conspirators grew and became stronger. And when they gathered enough strength, the uprisings/resistance to new arrangements and power began.

And it is in one of the clashes with these conspirators that Ballister is mortally wounded...or not?

Yes, yes, you understood correctly, I have two endings. Of course.

Anyway, I find this concept more interesting, as it brings me a little closer to political things, making things darker and therefore more interesting. After all, what is happiness worth if you don’t have to fight for it?

▪︎

Oh...I don't think I want to write about how difficult it was to draw all this...just say i'm glad I finished it.

Thank you for your attention

See ya~

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camille-lachenille · 3 months

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I was thinking about how, in fanfictions and in the fandom in general, Elrond is often depicted as a pure Noldorin lord, if not a die hard Fëanorian. And while I do enjoy Fëanorian!Elrond, the more I think about it the more I am convinced Elrond is not the fëanorian one of the twins. Elros is. Elros who adopted seven eight pointed stars as the heraldic device of his whole dynasty, a symbol still used 6000 years after his death. Elros who had Quenya be the official language of Númenor. Elros who decided to leave Arda for an unknown fate after his death; not Everlasting Darkness but not the rebirth in the bliss of Valinor either. He choose to go to a place Elves aren’t supposed to go, just like Fëanor and his sons went back to Beleriand. Elros, the mortal man, who decided to forge his own path in the world.

And I am not saying Elrond didn’t, because Eru knows how much strength, patience and stubbornness Elrond must have to become who he is in LotR. But when I first re-read LotR after reading the Silm, he did not strike me as Fëanorian at all (except for the no oath swearing rule that seems to apply in Rvendell). In fact, Elrond, and all three of his children, are defined by being half-Elven. Elrond is so much at the same time they had to creat a whole new category for him. He is described as kind as summer in The Hobbit, but also old and wise, and his friendly banter with Bilbo in FotR show he is also merry and full of humour. Elrond is both Elf and Man despite his immortality, and this is made quite clear in the text.

But. If I had to link him to an Elven clan, I’d say Elrond is more Sinda than Noldor, and even that is up to debate. Rivendell, this enchanting valley hidden from evil thanks to his power, is like a kinder version of Doriath. Yet, the name of Last Homely House and Elrond’s boundless hospitality make me think of Sirion: Rivendell is a place where lost souls can find s home, where multiple cultures live along each other in friendship and peace.

In FotR, Elrond introduces himself as the son of Eärendil and Elwing, claiming both his lineages instead of giving only his father’s name as is tradition amongst the Elves. It may be a political move, or it may be a genuine wish to claim his duality, his otherness, or even both at the same time. But from what is shown of Elrond in LotR, he seems to lean heavily in the symbols and heritage from the Sindar side of his family, rather than the Noldor one. I already gave the comparison with Doriath, but it seems history repeats itself as Arwen, said to be Lúthien reborn, chooses a mortal life. Yet Elrond doesn’t make the same mistake as Thingol by locking his daughter in a tower and sending her suitor to a deathly quest. Yes, he asks Aragorn to first reclaim the throne of Gondor before marrying Arwen, but this isn’t a whim on his part or an impossible challenge. Aragorn becoming king means that Middle-Earth is free from the shadow if Sauron and Arwen will live in peace and happiness. Which sounds like a reasonable wish for a parent to me.

Anyways, I went on a tangent, what strikes me with Elrond is his multiple identity. Elrond certainly has habits or traits coming from his upbringing amongst the Fëanorians, and he loved Maglor despite everything. The fact he is a skilled Minstrel shows he did learn and cultivate skills taught by a Fëanorion, that he is not rejecting them. There is a passage at the end of RotK, in the Grey Havens chapter, where Elrond is described carrying a silver harp. Is this a last relic from Maglor? Possible.

But while Elros choose the path of mortality and showed clear Noldorin influences in the kingdom he built, Elrond is happy in his undefined zone he lives in. He is an Elf, he is a Man, he is Sinda and Noldo and heir to half a dozen lost cultures and two crowns. He is the warrior and the healer, the only one of his kind in Middle-Earth. And that is why I will never tire of this character and I love so much fanworks depicting him as nuanced and multiple yet always recognisable as Elrond.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #the lord of the rings #peredhil #half elves #elros #elrond and elros #elrond #elrond peredhel #one blorbo to blorb them all #half baked ramblings by a sleep deprived tolkien fan #tolkien meta

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just-aake · 2 months

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Boundless Devotion - Part XV (Final)

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

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

Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Words: 8179

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You endure, and you stay.

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

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

Wanda and Pietro

Yelena and Kate

Carol

Even Queen Melina

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

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

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

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

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

Natasha

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, but I want to,” you insist.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Three days,” Natasha responds gently.

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

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

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

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

At your confused expression, Natasha continues her explanation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, giving her a content smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natasha nods with mock seriousness.

"If you say so."

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

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

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

"Wait, Natasha.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I do.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about his guards?” Natasha suggests.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dreykov chuckles in amusement, unfazed by her words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At her silence, he answers his own question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do have one more question for you.”

The door opens for her to leave as he continues.

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One day, she promises.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you mind giving us a moment alone?”

You nod in understanding, softly excusing yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, it is,” she replies honestly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Melina waves her hand dismissively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yelena turns to your group with a satisfied grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To visit a friend.”

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

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

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

He chuckles ruefully, giving you a look of disbelief.

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

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

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

“Y/n!”

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

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

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

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

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

Carol raises an amused brow at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you leaving after the coronation tomorrow?”

Carol nods in confirmation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“May I have a dance?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natasha raises an intrigued eyebrow, curious about your intentions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She leans in closer, her breath mingling with yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Epilogue

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

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

“A letter arrived for you, sir.”

“Is it about the next shipment of parts?”

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

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

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

The assistant hesitates before explaining.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jarvis!”

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

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

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

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

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

Again, thank you to all of you for reading!

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

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

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perpetual-stories · 2 years

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How to Use Character Flaws to Enrich Your Writing

Readers identify with characters who are relatable and peppered with imperfections. When a writer crafts believable character flaws, they open the door to interesting conflict, engaging personalities, and ample character development.

What Is a Character Flaw?

A character flaw is a trait that prevents a character from being perfect.

Sometimes this fatal flaw leads to a character’s demise or at least undercuts their character strengths and presents a prominent setback they must overcome.

Any character can have flaws, including a protagonist, antagonist, love interest, confidant, deuteragonist, tertiary character, or foil.

Why Give Your Characters Flaws?

A character’s flaws serve many functions, particularly ensuring that the character is relatable and engaged in inner conflict. Carefully crafted flaws can do the following:

Make the character relatable to an audience of readers or viewers

Present an obstacle that must be overcome during the course of the story

Create character weaknesses that another character in the story can exploit

Create an obstacle that prevents a character from immediately solving a conflict

Set off a character arc that allows a character to grow and change

Provide quirks that distinguish characters from one another and make them memorable to audiences

Emphasize broader themes that are amplified via specific character flaws

Create comedy—from Homer Simpson to Michael Scott, the best comedic characters are hopelessly flawed

What Is an Example of a Character Flaw?

In the Thomas Harris novel The Silence of the Lambs (and its subsequent film adaptation by director Jonathan Demme), Hannibal Lecter has what could charitably be called a personality disorder: He is a cannibal and a sadomasochist.

Lecter’s character flaws, however, are somewhat offset by his brilliant mind, which he uses to help the main character, Clarice Starling, apprehend a serial killer tormenting Appalachia.

Lecter is an example of how in fiction, even characters with the most severe personality flaws can embody a degree of three-dimensionality.

12 Character Flaws to Use in Your Writing

The array of possible character flaws is boundless. Here are 12 time-tested character traits that inherently generate conflict:

Perfectionism: A finicky perfectionist is never satisfied. They can rarely accept that a project has been completed, and they rarely accept the finished work of others. Perfectionism is a great flaw for a detective, a doctor, or an office worker.

A know-it-all attitude: An arrogant, self-righteous know-it-all has great potential to fall flat on their face, whether comically or dramatically. High school stories often feature a know-it-all foil to the main character. These archetypes work particularly well in comedy, especially when the know-it-all suffers from a broader lack of intelligence.

An inability to move on from the past: Many police procedurals and superhero stories feature heroes haunted by their past, such as murdered parents or the victim they could not save. This major flaw presents obstacles as they work to solve crimes—but when the obstacles are overcome, the story’s happy ending feels earned.

Laziness: Laziness is a flaw that leads to obvious conflict, some of which can be quite funny. Lazy sloth detectives and doctors can be either hilarious or the source of grave conflict, depending on the tone of your storytelling. A lazy character in a position of authority can generate a lot of tension for your plot.

Physical vulnerability: Some characters suffer from a physical weakness that can escalate into a fatal flaw. Superman’s tendency to wilt in the presence of kryptonite hamstrings him, while the great warrior Achilles was undone by his fabled heel.

Low self esteem: People who fundamentally dislike themselves make for fascinating characters. Jesse Pinkman’s self-loathing leads him down all sorts of dangerous paths in Breaking Bad. On the other end of the spectrum, the young adult author Judy Bloom has crafted gorgeous character arcs from youthful characters, like Linda Fischer in Blubber, who begin their journeys with low self esteem.

Vanity: Vanity is the undoing of many real world characters, and so it also works beautifully in fiction. Politicians, artists, models, and athletes in stories are routinely undone by vanity as they gradually develop a bad reputation. Ordinary people can be wrecked by vanity as well, so it’s a common character flaw in many forms of fiction.

Lust for power: Unbridled thirst for power has undone many a character, from Mr. Kurtz in Heart of Darkness to Frank Underwood in House of Cards. Power is intoxicating, and characters who seek it are both relatable and easy sources of conflict.

Lack of maturity: Many character arcs begin with a person in a hopeless state of immaturity who then grows over the course of the story. Immaturity can also manifest as rudeness, like when a bigmouth makes tactless remarks.

Fear: Common in action dramas and comedies alike, fear—be it cowardice in the face of duty, a specific phobia of spiders, or an irrational fear—is a great character flaw that naturally drives a story.

Hedonism: Some characters cannot resist temptation, whether that involves an illicit drug, food, or a fetish. Sometimes this excessive desire is due to addiction—it’s no secret that many famous protagonists are alcoholics—and sometimes it’s due to a general lack of self-restraint and willpower. For a character like Fyodor Karamazov in The Brothers Karamazov, hedonism and lechery make him both tragically amusing and subtly sinister.

A gruff exterior: Some characters seem initially impenetrable because they are taciturn, standoffish, or even hostile and lewd. Typically these characters house a vulnerable interior beneath their coarse shell. Bringing out that vulnerability and lack of self-worth can be a strong driver of story.

Please like, comment, reblog and follow for more!

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #original writing #writers on tumblr #writersconnection #writerscommunity #short story #storytelling #writersupportingwriters

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mintsuwu · 2 months

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Yet another part of the Smiling Critters Family Headcanons!!

Bobby Bearhug

Teddy Bearhug, a charismatic figure, serves as the mayor of Critter Ville, a role he fulfills with unwavering dedication and a genuine desire to solve any challenges that may arise within the community. With his outgoing nature and friendly demeanor, Teddy is beloved by all who know him. He embodies the spirit of unity and cooperation that defines Critter Ville, always ready to lend a helping hand and listening ear to those in need.

Opposite to Teddy's effervescent personality stands Ivory Rosemary Locklaw, a woman of quiet strength and unwavering loyalty. Due to her quiet and mysterious nature, many of the residents of Critter Ville equally respect or fear Ivory, but some don't understand how someone like the mayor married her. Though she battles with social anxiety, Ivory's love for her family knows no bounds.

In her younger days, she often found solace in solitude, until Teddy's persistent warmth and understanding broke through her barriers, leading to a deep and enduring love between the two.

Together, Teddy and Ivory foster a home filled with boundless affection and support, instilling in Bobby the values of kindness, empathy, and community service. The Bearhug family's unwavering commitment to the well-being of Critter Ville earns them the adoration and respect of their fellow residents, who appreciate their tireless efforts to make their town a better place.

However, not everyone in Critter Ville harbors such goodwill towards the Bearhugs. A family of foxes known as the Vixeniques holds a longstanding grudge against them stemming from Vanny's father past rivalry with Teddy during a political campaign. Despite this animosity, Teddy remains blissfully unaware, treating Vanny and her family with the same warmth and kindness he extends to everyone else. And so does Bobby- Even though Vanny does not reciprocate those feelings as she is bling with envy due to Bobby having everything she could ever ask for... But they will resolve their differences later on don't worry(?

BONUS: As Ivory and Catnap share that "eerie" energy and both are pretty much introverted, they actually get along quite well! She understood how Catnap was struggling to fit into the town when he first arrived and she inmediately dared to reach out and provide him of support. So she sorta became like a motherly figure or cool aunt to him. Which is kind of special because Catnap doesn't normally open to others too much, but he likes to spend more time around certain people like Dogday or even Loola. They hang out sometimes to have cake & vibe(?

#fanart #oc #headcanon #poppy playtime #smiling critters #smiling critters oc #the smiling critters #bobby bearhug #poppy playtime oc

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ego-meliorem-esse · 8 months

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Stormy Eyes

The 7-year-old looking boy with boundless energy, stood atop the hill, looking down at the small church where a somber funeral was taking place. In his small hand, Alfred clutched a single flower, a blue daisy. The daisy, a simple tribute to his best friend, Davie. Alfred had returned from London with excitement, eager to share his discoveries and stories, only to discover the devastating news of Davie's passing. His young heart ached, and the weight of grief hung heavily upon him.

Throughout his short life, Alfred had always been a whirlwind of activity, his mind racing from one thought to another, his body in constant motion. His father, Arthur, had observed these tendencies with a watchful eye, understanding that his son's boundless enthusiasm often came with moments of restlessness and broken vases.

As Arthur approached his young son, he saw the boy's restless fidgeting, his hands twisting the flower stem, and his gaze darting in all directions. He knew with how much enthusiasm and excitement Alfred carried and took care of the flower on his long journey to Boston. So, having Alfred bend and break the stem was a certain cause for concern. He recognized his boys fidgeting and what it stood for. An understanding that had developed over years of being Alfred's father and mentor.

"Alfred," Arthur said sternly, yet without a hint of annoyance. His voice carrying the weight of centuries of history and responsibility. Arthur looked down from the hill to the quaint church where a crowd of silhouettes gathered, and with an almost inaudible "Ah." understood the weight of the situation. He looked down at his son, his eyes softened with concern. "I'm sorry lad."

Alfred's response was not in words but in frantic fidgeting. His young mind was trapped in a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, rendering him staring down at the destroyed flower stem he seemed to cherish only a few hours before.

Seeing his son's distress, Arthur's concern deepened. He slowly kneeled down, reached out and gently held Alfred's face in his hands, physically anchoring the restless child and forcing their eyes to meet.

"Alfred," Arthur said firmly once again, his voice breaking through the chaos in Alfred's mind. "Focus, my son. You must."

Alfred's tear-filled eyes finally met his father's, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Arthur could see his son's eyes trying to suppress more tears from welling up. The effort was unsuccessful, because as soon as Alfred took a breath, all the supressed tears fell all at once. Through all that his boy didn't make a single sound.

Arthur's words continued, his voice carrying the weight of wistom obtained by blood and violence. "My boy, your life will be a lonely but fulfilling one. You will meet many people, nations, enemies and friends along the way. Each one will leave a mark on your heart, just as your friend here did." Arthur didn't dare look away at the funeral for the friend he just mentioned in fear of loosing Alfred to his own mind once again.

Arthur's voice almost quivered as he spoke of Alfred's lost friend. "Remember them, Alfred. Remember them all, and carry their memories with you. Your existence, my dear boy, is both a solitary journey and a shared one. You are not alone in this world of nations."

He paused, his grip on Alfred's face unwavering. "Your restless spirit is a part of who you are, Alfred, and it's a gift. Use it to carry the torch for those who have gone before us and for those who will come after. You have the strength within you to focus when it truly matters. Because, my son, when you do, miracles will happen."

He released his son and instead of going back to fidget with the plant, Alfred stood still and kept looking at his father.

As the funeral procession continued below, father and son remained standing on that grassy hill. Arthur's words seemed to echo back and forth in the young boys mind, his ocean eyes finally resembling calm waters. In that moment Arthur was reminded of stormy nights at sea and the calm morning that followed.

He was always good at sailing through the storm.

#hetalia #hws england #hws america #meli speaks #myart #my art #historical hetalia #i hate hate hate the anatomy here pls dont focus on that im begging #will i ever let these two live a non dramatic life #no.#my wriring #meli writes #hetalia fanfiction #alfred f jones #arthur kirkland

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