Ill Keep You Safe.

I’ll keep you safe.

05/10/21

Homelander X Innocent!Reader (female). 

This was request by the lovely @queenieheartsbitches​, they requested that I do Homelander x reader fic where the reader will be naïve and innocent. This Fic will have a dark tone to it so please read at your own risk. I am so sorry it took so long, but it is what it is. if you enjoy please leave a comment about what you liked and don’t be afraid to reblog and reach out for some requests of your own. 

Words: 2.4K

Summary: Homelander has the need to protect the last piece of innocence left in his life, keeping her away from the darkness that is Vought. He grew up with her in the labs that made him who he is today, yet they had completely different upbringings. But she is his, no matter what. 

Warnings: Dub/Con elements, language, menstrual cycle and blood, manipulation, mentions of violence, Homelander basically using the readers naivety against her. 

[Masterlist] - Part Two

1994

The first few years of (Y/N)’s life was spent in a glass box; fitted with a bed, table, and chair. If she wasn’t being tested on or testing her powers, they kept her in that box. Food was passed through a slot to the side of the door, she had a limited number of toys that were her only friends for a while. She named them Bricky and Blocky, they were two dolls that didn’t have faces. In fact, they didn’t have any defining features at all, but she was attached to the two toys like no mans business.

When she was eight, her best friend entered her life, she called them Doctor Brookes. The Doctor was a smoothed face woman in her late thirties, with high cheek bones and hooded-almond eyes, her thick black hair was always kept up in a neatly wrapped bun at the back of her head with a pen always sticking out of it at an angle. The moment (Y/N) met the Doctor she noticed how tall and slender the woman was, she found the doctor breathtakingly beautiful. But there was something dark behind the Doctor’s eyes that always made her take caution with the way she spoke and moved. But the Doctor was the greatest friend (Y/N) ever had. Next to John of course.

When (Y/N) was nine years and eleven days old she awoke to pain in her stomach and blood flowing from her thighs, she did the only thing she could think of and screamed. After the hysteria was over, Dr Brookes came to the glass box and sat her down on her lumpy bed and explained how her body was changing, but it was different.

“Your body is changing, you will turn into a woman, but you won’t be like every other woman out there (Y/N). Do you understand?” The red lipstick was captivating, (Y/N) watched her mouth move as the words poured out.

“All the test we have been doing are making you better and your body is finally healing. You will become powerful little warrior.”

‘Warrior, huh no ones ever called me that before,’ her mind was racing as she thought of the days and years to come.

“Will it hurt?” Her voice was timid as she clutch Bricky and Blocky to her chest, her little heart was starting to ache with how fast it was beating.

“Of course,’ the doctors hand was places delicately on (Y/N) warm cheek, ‘but you will power through it. Won’t you little one?” Brown eyes bored into (Y/N)’s and held her gaze with a look that left a chill to run down (Y/N)’s spine.

“Yes Doctor.” White teeth came into view as the Doctor’s red lips were pulled up into a smile. There was a twinkle in her almond-hooded eyes as she clapped her hands together before standing up from her crouched position in front of (Y/N).

The glass door opened suddenly, and Doctor Vogelbaum stepped through his white coat twisted at the back and ruffled. He cleared his throat and beckoned Doctor Brooke to come over, quite words were exchanged before they both glanced over to (Y/N).

“Is she ready?” The man stalked towards the little girl sat on the bed and crouched down to inspect her, Doctor Brooke said something to him but (Y/N)’s attention was on the coldness of his eyes. She winced when he harshly pinched her round cheek and squeezed.

“Good, she’ll be a wonderful weapon for Vought.” (Y/N) shook her head violently and protested, “Doctor Brooke said I’d be a warrior!” His mouth pulled into a snarl and his yellow teeth were barred together, the anger radiating from his face made (Y/N) pull Bricky and Blocky up to her face.

“You little girl,’ the dolls were ripped from (Y/N)’s grip,’ will be the weapon we made you to be, you can pretend you are a warrior, but you were made to be a weapon.” Doctor Vogelbaum turned and walked away ignoring the wailing from the little girl trapped in the glass box.

2019

“Can we go to the carnival later, I heard they had deep-fried chocolate bars.” His ridiculous cape blocked (Y/N)’s view of the TV screen. She sat, with her legs propped up on the glass table watching the trailer for Vought’s newest hero addition. But her vision got cut off when John came storming into the meeting room muttering about how ungrateful everyone was. As far as (Y/N) was concerned John wasn’t talking about her because she was always grateful, Doctor Brooke had taught her to always be grateful for what she had. No matter the circumstances. So, when John came in, tense and disturbed (Y/N) brought it upon herself to make the best thing in her life happy. And the carnival always made her heart fly.

“John,” her feet swung off the table and carried her to the Supe. His frame was tense, telling her all she needed to know, reaching out (Y/N) placed her hand on John’s bicep and gently stroked. Her effect on the man was visible even a blind man could sense the soft spot the legendary Homelander had for this woman.  The man in question deflated and mumbled a quite “fuck”.

(Y/N) tutted and lightly pinched the man, “watch your language J,” she trailed her hand downwards and swiftly turned the hunk of the man around until he was facing her, without question she wrapped her arms around his torso and nestled her face into his neck. After years of getting use to (Y/N)’s behaviour John still tensed when she pulled him into one of her loving hugs. He hesitated before wrapping his arms around her body, he wasn’t in the mind set for physical contact right now but that was him, the woman in his embrace was nothing like him.

Nothing.

He was raised in a lab, constantly being tested on and his only comfort was a blanket and the occasional faces he saw, that reminded him that he wasn’t forgotten. His mind was drilled and filled with war strategies and how to win people over, his mind was not filled with empathy or love and affection like most people. On the outside he was what everyone in America needed, he seemed like he had the life he wanted and the people, he showed the world how happy he was doing his job and how grateful he was to save the people of the US of A.

But on the inside, it was a whole fucking mess.

Letting out a deep sigh, John dropped his head on top of (Y/N)’s, letting her heart calm his racing mind. The scent of her was soothing, it strangely gave him a comfort of home. He lost himself to his thoughts as he stood there with her in his arm, hearts harmonising into a domestic beat. He slowly remembered how different they were, two completely different humans and yet they fit together so perfectly – he seems to think so anyway. He couldn’t bare to let her go, when he first met her the thing that stood out to him the most was how vulnerable she was. Standing with the smile of a god on her face, (E/C) eyes wide and brimming with innocence that he knew would disappear quickly if she befriended him.

But he was wrong, they had known each other for a long time, and she is still the same wide-eyed innocent motherfucker he met when he was young. He didn’t know if it was the way he was conditioned when he was younger, but his saviour complex was completely different when it came to (Y/N). To this day, he refuses to let Translucent anywhere near her, he made that mistake once and the rage he felt was other worldy and the pain he left Translucent in was something the sadist in him was extremely proud of.

“John?” her voice was muffled, and it almost went completely passed his ears, but he heard it and recognised the discomfort in her tone. He then realised that through his mindless wonder, he had subconsciously tightened his grip on her. Breathing a quick ‘sorry’ he let her go and watched curiously as she scanned his face. He knew what she was thinking, (Y/N) didn’t hide her emotions as well as she thought she did.

“What is the matter now?” her hand gently caressed his cheek, the smile on her face grew slightly as she felt John lean into it. She could feel the tense jawbone constrict and relax as he exhaled softly, she didn’t even blink when she felt John’s hands come down to rest on her hip. She was use to these administrations of affection, something that other people had a hard time wrapping their heads around. She never understood why. But she just guessed it was just down to the past these two shared, the lack of a parental figure – but it was more extreme in Johns case. Nevertheless, she still understood the crave for any kind of physical contact, the need to be heard and held.

“I just. It’s nothing my Dove. I just want to hold you.” And with that he brought is forehead down and rested it on top of hers, (Y/N) looked up through her eyelashes and observed how relaxed his face was, no hints of the stress or burden that were holding him down when he came in. It made her happy to see that he was able to relax when it came to her, it made her happy that he was able to fall apart and trust her enough to put him back together. She was suddenly distracted by the fingers that were tilting her chin upward, even more taken back by the lips that pressed gently onto her own. She pulled back and looked at the man in front of her, a warmth slowly caressed her cheeks.

“Sorry, you just shocked me a little you didn’t ask like you usually did.” Her eyes were cast downwards, watching the floor sparkle in the afternoon sun. (Y/N)’s eyes stayed down when those same fingers came back to tilt her face upwards.

“(Y/N), look at me.” (E/C) shot upwards meeting a breath taking blue, “I’m sorry I forgot, I just need you to make me feel better, is that okay?” the man asking the question watched as the woman in front of him bit her lip before nodding her head. Gently, he moved his thumb upwards and rolled her lips out from the torture of her teeth, and gently rubbed it. He smiled wolfishly when (Y/N)’s face took on a flustered look and she nodded her head slightly, a breathless whimper slipped past her lips as John gently surged forward and captured her lips again. He cupped her face and brought himself flush to her, every time he does it, he never gets over the taste of her – sweet and innocent.

(Y/N) had to suppress the noises threatening to slip past her lips as she brought her hands up to Johns chest, she couldn’t tell if her heart was beating so fast it was making her ears ring or if it was John who was having this effect on her. But either way she loved it.

She remembered the first time he kissed her, he had just come back from a taxing recon and he was pissed – excuse the bad language, she listened to him rant and rave about the incompetence of people and how no one understands the extent of his job. And after all that he still was tensed she could practically see the muscle damage through his posture, so she jumped onto him and hugged him with everything she had. She didn’t know how long they were stood there, but what she did know was that one second she’s hugging The Homelander-earths mightiest Super, and the next his hand is holding her cheek and his lips are planted on hers. John knew that was her first kiss, she quietly asked why he had done it, and he explained how she - (Y/N) (L/N) makes him feel happy, healthy, and so much better.

“I love how you make me feel like everything is going to be fine, and I need this. Don’t you want me to feel good?”

And she didn’t want to make him feel hurt, and since then whenever he needs her, she is there.

Always.

Because she loves him, as much as he loves her, and she is willing to give him everything he asks for and so much mor-

“Ms (L/N), I need to borrow Homelander for a minute.” The voice of Stillwell projected loudly into the vast room, making (Y/N) jump back in surprise. Her (E/C) eyes looked at the woman standing in the doorway, hands on her hips and face scowling at the scene in front of her. She didn’t know what it was but Madelyn never like the two of them together in the same room, (Y/N) knew if she had it her way Madelyn wouldn’t have the two of them on the same planet.

“I’ll see you later Dove,” with a quick kiss to the forehead (Y/N) watched as the man she was just kissing practically skip out of the door, with tears burning at the back of her eyes she turned around and sluggishly made her way back to the chair she was occupying moments ago.

Laying back, she looks back at the screen, still showcasing the show she was watching. But her mind was casted to the pair that had just left the room, she knew deep down in her stomach that something was going on between the two of them. But her heart couldn’t handle that. Rising her hand into the air she could see the red wisps dancing around her hand, moving her fingers slightly she watched as the sun started to dim and not long after the familiar rumble of thunder announced itself. She absentmindedly weaved her fingers around, her focus on the television, but her attention every now and then would listen to the calming storm raging outside the windows. The grey clouds encased the city below, the thunder clashed loudly in the air as rain fired down.

(Y/N) smiled slightly and closed her eyes, listening to the storm outside. She felt at peace as she waited for her John to come back, she felt at peace as the storm inside her slowly started to dissipate.

(Y/N) remembered the words of Doctor Brooke, and how right now she felt anything but a warrior. But she knew that as long as she had John, she will be okay.

Satan’s Angel

Johnny Storm x WOC!Reader

Summary: She was hidden from the world at the age of 16 when something within her awoke. Something demonic. But she has her brother to hold onto when things start to get worse, because he’s there for her. Right?

warnings: language, blood, violence, mentions of medical problems. mentions of needles, abuse and torture. 18+

WC: 2.2K

masterlist I Chapter 2

So I wrote this ack in my Quotev days, and I decided to edit it - because it was atrociously written. And I’m now posting it on here so I hope you enjoy my loves 

-619x

The world has never been in my favour, I realise that now.

I should’ve realised it years ago.

But standing here looking my estranged brother in the eyes; I finally realise that the world has led me on a path that had to end this way, no matter how hard I tried to swerve and dodge the upcoming circumstance, I would always end up staring at my brothers empty eyes, with my hand deep in his chest.

Killing him. Killing my brother.

She sat there, waiting for the pain to embrace her like a long-lost cousin. She knew it was time; her heart was spasming, she could hardly breathe. Her eyes were watery, tears sliding down her face.

Yet she sat there at the edge of her bed staring out the window that occupied the whole wall opposite her bed. She could see the mountains from her bed so clearly. It was as if she was there.

If she was there.

Her chest moved erratically, her cheeks soaked with tears, yet she sat calmly; pondering, wondering, daydreaming about a life outside these four walls that kept her trapped in her own mind.

A mind that kept her sane and crazy all at the same time. She would dream up stories of a handsome young prince saving her with a fiery kiss. Or most times it was a nightmare, a world made of purple skies and vibrant green grass, set aflame; with bodies lying across the ground as she ran with some man, her hand in his so he wouldn’t lose her, the other hand on her belly housing a precious creature. She never got the end of the nightmare because she would wake up just before a monster jumped on top of her.

She would always jolt up, sweat weighing heavy on her skin, a scream rising up her throat along with bile and the feeling on nostalgia. She hated how she knew the place she was dreaming of yet couldn’t place a finger on it.

Before she could ponder anymore, she felt the first flicker of pain, it started at the bottom of her spine, and oh-so painfully started to spread across the rest of her rigid body. She drew in a ragged breath as the pain wrapped a hand around her heart and squeezed. She clenched her eyes shut tight and tried soothe her breathing, but the hand around her heart squeezed harder. She gasped out in pain and rolled forward; landing on the floor on her knees as her hand started to scrape at her chest, desperately trying to remove the hand off of her heart. It was as if it was laughing at her attempts because next thing she knew, the hand squeezed so hard she fell forward onto her hand and screamed.

She screamed so loudly, black dots clouded her vision and danced around her. Her throat felt sore, but she didn’t stop.

She couldn’t.

Her body shook as sobs replaced the screaming in a matter of seconds. She hated this, for the past eight years it just seems to be getting worse. Ever since she surpassed her sixteenth birthday, all it has ever been was pain, pain and pain. It was tenfold as worse as it used to be. Before her sixteenth birthday it was like a build up to the pain she was feeling now. Minor headaches, to migraines, to temperatures either too hot or too cold. No one knew what was wrong with her. Not even the best doctors’ money could buy. And if it wasn’t for Victor she wouldn’t be here, with round the clock care to make sure she is okay, she knew that he loved her even though he wasn’t around as much as he used to be. She knew.

Of course, he loves you. Your all he’s got, and vice-versa.

The thoughts echoed around her head, bouncing painfully off her head.

The vibrations of the floor let her know that the people were on their way.  Moments later she felt her body being lifted from the floor, she felt herself slump against the broad chest of some man, she given up fighting against the pain and just let it take over her system. She couldn’t stop the tears, the echoed the lack of control she had over her own body as the gushed down her paling face.

“Hush now, close your eyes. I’ve got you.” The deep voice vibrated through her body, it felt oddly familiar and through all the pain she managed to look up into the familiar blue eyes of her brother.

“Vic- “her words fell short as she lost the energy to speak, instead she used all her energy to place her hand onto his smooth cheek.

“Hush, it’s okay. I’m here now.” With that statement she let her eyes roll to the back of her head, as the pain drowned her in its last tidal wave.

  Victor released a long ‘huff’ as he stopped at another traffic light. He regretted coming back to New-York at 14:00 pm when the streets would be busy with the afternoon rush. He rhythmically tapped his fingers against the arms rest and looked on through the divider, he smirks as he saw his driver’s hand gripping the wheel tightly out of frustration too.

His attention was quickly drawn to his phone when he heard the ringtone brake through the silence in the car; reaching into his jacket he removed his phone from the inside pocket of his black Louis Vuitton suit jacket.

‘Her vitals are erratic again; she’s going to go into Comatose. But I think it’s best if you came over. You can get the samples you need.’

The text message was all he needed for him to clear his throat and say;

“Michael, turn back around to the airport, please. We’re going to visit my sister.” With a nod from Michael, the car was swiftly turned around and quickly driven back to the airport. He sent a text to his pilot, telling him to ready the helicopter that will bring him to the facility he has in the Alps, which is coincidentally where he is keeping his sister.

Victors blue eyes grew stormy as he remembered how much pain his sister has been through in the past few years, the undiagnosed tantrums her body would throw sent his sister into an unbreakable cycle of pain and then unconsciousness. He knew deep down that one day she’ll have an episode that she won’t concur.

He remembers the first time it happened; he was stepping through his front door. He barley even had time to take his jacket off before he heard a scream that made his blood curl, rushing upstairs he was met with a sight that had the breath taken out of him, there hunched on the bed was his sister.

Head clasped between her hands, nails digging into her skin as if she was trying to peel her own skin off, her lower face was covered in blood from her nose, and her eyes were screaming for help, for an escape that she was so desperately seeking.

Victor rushed forward and attempted to prise her hands off her head. But was met with a force that had him crashing into wall next to the door. He looked up and saw his sister looking at him with unnatural black eyes and a hand pointed towards him with her palm open. Her eyelids fluttered before they were back to their normal hue.

“Help me…” her voice came out hoarse and timid before she convulsed onto the ground.

Surging forward Victor managed to catch her head just in time before it hit the corner of the bed frame. His vision was blurry as he looked at his sister, her head cradled in his lap as he tried to steady her from the excessive shaking.

His ears picked up the sirens and then the sound of the door getting thrown open as paramedics came rushing upstairs.

Yet he couldn’t move, his body wasn’t registering what was actually happening.  

Their voices all became mumbled as he watched them pry her out of his grip, he tried to speak but his mouth wouldn’t move it just stayed there, hanging open like a fool.

He continued to stare at the group of paramedics struggling to hold his sister still as he felt two pairs of hands under his arms to haul him up.

‘Come on son.’ The voice sounded so distant and foreign to him as he let the two strangers support his weight as it appeared his own legs couldn’t do that. He hazily watched as the world around him moved without some much of a struggle. Next thing he knew he was sat on the curb with a blanket wrapped around him. Apparently for the shock.

Fuck that.

His head snapped to the side as he heard the shouting of the paramedics as the rushed his unconscious sister out of the house; one split off from the group and came over to him.

“Are you the boyfriend?” Victor shook his head, eyes trained on his sisters’ body being hauled into the back of the ambulance.

“Brother,” he managed to rasp out.

“Okay then that’s even better. Can you tell me anything about her?” His eyes stayed trained on his sister as the paramedics sorted her out in the back, the doors were wide open so he could see what they were doing.

“Yeah, yeah.” He numbly nodded. Half listening to what the man was saying.

“Any mental illness, inherited disorders from the family?” Victor continued to shake his head; the man continued asking questions, but they all had the same answer. A shake of the head from Victor Von-Doom.

“Okay can you tell me how old she is?” Victor looked down at his Rolex, his eyebrows furrowed in sadness when he realised what day it was. The watch read back 03:45am.

“October 31st, she turned sixteen forty-five minutes ago.” He finally looked over at the paramedic and noticed how young he really was, said paramedics face contorted into a look of unease. Victor sent him a look of confusion which lead to the boy looking away.

“Sorry sir, it’s just three am is considered the ‘witching hour’ in my religion, and it clashes with it being Halloween today as well- ‘the paramedic turned around and noticed the look on Victors face and cleared his throat- ‘Sorry sir. Happy birthday to her, you can ride with her if you wish.”

And with that the young boy scurried off.

Looking out the window, Victor noticed they were about to touch down on the landing pad. Exhaling unsteadily, he rolled his shoulders back preparing himself what was to come.

If only he knew.

  The steady, rhythmic beeping of the EKG machine soothed Victors heart as he stood by the window and looked out onto the scenery that was suspiciously calming. Now he understood why his sister made him replace the tiny window for this huge one. It was once a wall, but with the extra light and the view it made the room less constricting, less likely of a panic attack for her.

“Hey.” The soft voice barley reached his ears, but he heard it and he couldn’t be happier. Spinning around he marched to her side and plonked himself down onto the chair that he’d been sat in for the past fourteen hours.

“Name?”

“(Y/N) Von-Doom. Victor?”

“No, Birthday?” “Monday, October Thirty-first, three am. Victor please.”

“Favourite person in the world?”

“Steve Harvey.”

“Hey, what happened to it being me”

“You wouldn’t shut up. Your making my head hurt Victor.” She raised a hand to rub her temple, only to hiss in pain as her muscles burned. Tears clouded her vison as she remembered what happened.

“Did anyone get hurt?” She was met with a ‘no’ from her brother. She mumbled a response that Victor couldn’t hear. He watched her as she looked out the window; eyes glassed over and distant, like she was somewhere else.

“I can’t do this anymore,” her voice was quiet, lacking emotion. It caused Victors heart to beat faster. He couldn’t let her go. Not now.

“(Y/N)?”

“I mean, here. Here in this room. Because these episodes are getting stronger, I can feel it. I probably won’t survive the next one. Or fuck, the one after that. Who knows Victor. I need to leave, get out of here. I don’t care where, I just need to leave.” Her sobs grew louder as did the EKG machine, he tried to soothe her, but it only grew worse.

Doctors and nurse appeared in a matter of minutes, they checked the vitals and the machine only to see her hysterically crying.

“Ma’am, you need to calm down for me please.” The nurse’s voice was sweet, almost taunting to (Y/N). She sighed when the girls crying grew louder. Nodding towards the older man in a pair of grey scrubs she quickly caught (Y/N)’s attention as the Doctor came forward and injected her with a mild sedative.

With in seconds the room grew quite as they all watched (Y/N)’s eyes close slowly.

Just before she went completely under; Victor cupped her cheek.

“I need you. So, I promise I’ll find out what’s going on. You’ll get out of here soon. I promise.”

He watched her eyes close completely and looked out of the window, leaning back against the chair he spoke one last time before closing his eyes:

“I promise.”

——

Chapter 2

Her

Chapter two: crimson

UD- 24th June 2021

Big Thank yo to my translator, @primavera-allegoria​ this story wouldn’t be completed or written if it wasn’t for you. So thank you.

Summary: AU series were Bucky is safe and sound after AOU, (Y/N) (L/N) is a troubled woman with a haunting past, and its coming back to enslave her. But she doesn’t care, her interest is in a certain Captain America lead to a night that set off a series of unfortunate twists and turns. Can she come out on the other side, with her past a secret and a family to come home to. Or will she burn and take everyone down with her.

Warning!! this chapter contains scenes some may find upsetting and disturbing read at your own risk.

Word Count- 4K+

If you have any question please ask, reviews are welcome let me know what I can approve on and what you like.

 [Masterlist]

 Chapter I-Forest : Chapter III-Hiraeth

 __

The rebuilding of stark Tower 2012

“You know Tony, I would love to find an apartment in New York, but I can’t leave a child by itself for more than an hour, legally” (E/C) eyes cast downwards at the plans of the new compound, (Y/N) refused to wipe the smirk off her face as she heard the dramatic intake of breath behind her.

“Are you calling me a child.” She could picture the look of disdain on his face, his mouth wide open in mock shock and hand on his Arc Reactor. (H/C) textured hair bounced around her shoulders as she shook her head in disbelief. She walked over to the large window that overlooked the rubble that once was New York.

Heaving a sigh, she wrapped her arms around her torso and clenched tightly, her eyes became glassy as she withheld the tears threatening to come down her face. Her mind was running too fast for her to keep up with, the thought of what she could have done circled her head in a taunting manner. ‘I could’ve saved people, children.’ The guilt was evident in her eyes but not on her face, no she hid that well.

“You knew it had to be done,” obviously not too well, “there would’ve been more damaged with you and Banner out there, chaos. And we can really only just about control Banner. I did it to keep you safe.” The remorse was clear on his tongue she just refused to listen.

“So, knocking me out with that heavy duty sedative was your best option? I felt like a piece of shit when you did that with no explanation Tony! And to mention the fact that you left me in my room without so much of a note, do you have any idea how scary it was to wake up to you falling out the fucking hole in the sky!” her face was contorted into a painful twist as she grew closer and closer to Tony, her index finger jutted out and repeatedly jab his arc reactor. The strength behind it surprised him and led to him placing his hand onto her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down.

The veins in her body started to hum a soft crimson, her eyes filled with tears as she gasped for air. She could feel her body starting to change, the heat building up begging to be released was a sign she needed to breathe.

“You and I both know that the consequence would’ve been too much for everyone to face given our current situation.” His voice was soft as if he were talking to a wounded animal; he caressed her elbow and brought her head to lay on his chest. The soft humming of his reactor brought comfort to her. (Y/N) thought back to the moment she locked eyes upon the figure of a falling Iron Man, she couldn’t put into words the emotions that coursed through her body as she watched him fall. The scream that left her mouth shook the whole room, yet it was unheard with all the chaos flying around the city.

“I know, I am just pissed off that’s all. You promised not to do that again,” her voice was petite, the vulnerability flowing off her in waves.

She pulled her head away from his chest and looked up at him, a smirk slowly making its way to her face; “And fuck you for not taking me to get some Shawarma.” She pulled herself away from him and punched him in the arm playfully. She laughed as she watches his mouth form an ‘O’ as he rubbed the pain away.

“That looked like it hurt Tony,” (Y/N) whipped her head around at the new voice and immediately relaxed once she saw it was Pepper, the strawberry blonde gave the other lady a hug on her way to Tony. They exchanged a few words before Pepper came back to (Y/N).

“I’m going back to Malibu for a few weeks, wanted to know if you wanted to come?” The woman held a look in her eyes that (Y/N) had seen before; pity, the fact that Pepper was the one to find (Y/N) in her room with the window smashed, the furniture broken and all over the place with her sat, stark naked in the middle of it all. Pepper saw the struggle clear on (Y/N)’s face when she stepped into the room. The pain. The horror. The ongoing battle within her as she tried to claw her way out of the disorientated state, she was in.

“I don’t know, I still have to do clean up here- “

“Don’t worry about it I’ve got it, go you deserve it Foss,” (Y/N) winced at the nickname and walked out the office. The two adults watched the head of (H/C) curls disappear into the mass of construction and working bodies.

“JARVIS pull up surveillance please, from her room.” Pepper’s voice was filled with an emotion that Tony couldn’t place. It didn’t matter the moment the wall in front of them filled up with an image of (Y/N)’s form sleeping in the bed.

His face showed the confusion on his face as he looked at the surveillance footage- “why am I watching (Y/N) sleep Pep?”- his eyebrows screwed together as he looked from her freckle covered face to the video.

“Just watch.” Her voice held authority that Stark did not question.

The tape speed forward for a moment, the images past quickly from her getting up and looking around the room in confusion, to her trying to open the door, to then turning around and seeing the Chitauri flying around outside her large window. She tries the door handle one last time before slowly walking to the window. Hands on it as she surveys the scene unravelling in front of her.

“Pepper?” Tony’s voice is full of question as he watches the tape pick up speed again to the moment (Y/N) catches him falling out of the sky. The veins in her body starts to pulse a deep crimson as she slams her fist against the window in anguish.

It happens to quickly that Tony orders Jarvis to rewind and slow down the tape. Pepper takes a seat on the raised platform surrounding them and places her head in her hands.

But he doesn’t notice; he’s got his eyes focused on the image of (Y/N) hunched over in pain as her body starts to become overwhelmed in light as she screams in fear, the room starts to shake. A crack forms on the window, then one crack turns into five and then five turn into hundreds of spider webs turning the triple-glazed-Tony-Stark proof window into shards that fly across the room and fall onto the people outside. The clothes burn off as her body becomes too hot, all the pent-up energy finally being released. Crimson ribbons start to flutter around her body creating a circle that envelopes her trembling body as she hunched over in pain, the furniture in the room starts to shake as it lifted off the ground and hovers in the air.

All of a sudden, the ribbons that were once dancing around her erupted outwards as her upper body was flung upwards and a silent scream left her body. Everything broke; the bed, the table, the desk, and the walls dented.

She falls to the floor quickly, her head bounces from the immediate impact. The tape fast forwards again, and throughout her body doesn’t stop glowing, humming softly as it heals itself of self-inflicted injuries. The tapes stops suddenly to (Y/N) waking up; she arches of the ground and whips her head back and forth trying to grasp onto the perplexing situation at hand. But the confusion plastered on her face is clear as glass. A shard of bright light appears in the corner of the video before slowly becoming wider, drowning the dark and bleak room in artificial light.

(Y/N)’s face turns slowly to the figure in the doorway, a series of emotions flash across her face as she tries to understand everything, anything at all.

“Tony?” The plead fell on death ears as the 176 second clip was rewound and replayed over and over again; the already clenched jaw became slack before tensing again. His forehead creased in anguish as the image of the vulnerable woman stained is mind.

“Tony?” He exhaled violently through his nostrils before hanging is head low, he screwed his eyes shut and counted to ten in his head.

‘You fucked up’

‘Again’

“I…I promised her, I’d protect her and let nothing happen to her again Pep. I promised.” His voice meagre as he inhaled deeply trying to ignore the quaking of his lungs. He looked up at the paused video, millions of thoughts swarming his already distressed head. Taking a step back he cleared his throat.

“Jarvis.”

“Yes Sir?”

“Delete the footage, erase it.”

“Permanently sir?”

“Yes”

“And what of the Bedroom Sir?”

“What bedroom Jarvis?”

“Of course, sir.”

He looked to his left at the strawberry blonde, sat calmly watching his body, waiting for it to crumple. She was reading him like always but this time she couldn’t quite understand the writing on the pages, it kept shifting from one thing to another.

“We don’t speak of this Pepper, she doesn’t remember the surge, she just remembers waking up and seeing me fall, and that is as good as it gets,” his voice was low, a whisper of a whisper. His dark brown eyes met her blue in a silent agreement.

An agreement to protect what could destroy everything. And nothing at the same time.

“Jarvis?” He raised his eyebrows at nothing waiting patiently for the response.

“You were never here sir.”

With a nod he turned and left, never looking back as he marched to find something to preoccupy his mind from combustion.

Silence met Pepper’s ears for a few minutes before the silence was filled with a small sniffle, wiping her hand underneath her nose she looked up to the ceiling blinking a few times to calm herself. She needs to control herself for her sake. Before she screams.

Nodding to no one she gets up.

Smooths out her skirt.

And leaves.

March 14th, 2015

Medical bay, New Avengers Compound, Upstate New York.

“We had to heavily sedate her so there would be no chance of a surge of any kind like you suggested Tony, her body is damaged though. He put some kind of poison in her system that is unnatural.”

His heart stuttered as he listened to the Doctor speak, ‘unnatural, what does she mean?’.

“I tested it and I couldn’t find any kind of natural compound in the substance I extracted from her blood, I don’t think it was her body trying to decompose it if that is what you’re thinking because whatever they put in her, it’s. I’m so sorry Tony,”

His heart became erratic the sound became claustrophobic, ‘what does she mean she’s sorry?’.

“It’s aim was to halt her reaction, the deadly kind so they could do something, but it did more than that Tony, it’s made her weak. She’s broken and I don’t know how to fix her.”

His heart burst, the pain was so great it became numb, it was so great he saw black spots as his vision swam, it was so great he forgot that the team was down the hall.

It was so great that he screamed.

His heart and lungs felt heavy as he forced in air to stop him from falling, he looked up at Cho and grabbed her by the shoulders, he looked into her fear painted eyes and begged, pleaded with her to stop lying.

“Tony, there is nothing I can do, it’s all up to her biology now. My machines can’t fix her, they’d kill her or make it worse. I’m sorry.” She placed a consoling hand on his cheek, a mockery to him as the apology felt empty, scares of emotion.

His eye landed on the shell of a human, his (Y/N) laid there motionless, mindless, and uncomfortably beautiful. Her dark complexion paling and lifeless.

His stomach felt twisted as he dragged in a broken breath, it settled uncomfortably within him as he continued to stare at the woman he has known since 23, he could remember the way the dimly lit dinner made her eyes shine so brightly with pain. He felt at peace for a moment when he saw the conflict flitter across her face as he drunkenly plonked down opposite her in the sticky leather booth.

They related to each other on so many levels without a word spoken, the loss and torment they both endured was what helped them come together. But their undying love and friendship was what kept them together.

The beeping became unbearable, it mocked him with the intensity of it obnoxiously loud beep. He gritted his teeth and looked down at the monitor, it looked clean and untouched, beautifully innocent for a machine.

Unlike her, lying in that bed covered in swells, darkened colours and bumps, a majestic art-piece for the psychopaths of the world.

The rhythm of the beeping was fast, it sounded like the machine was running out of breath to keep up with her heart rate. He spent years trying to keep up with her, yet this was the closet he’d been to see her so…peaceful.

“Heal for me,” he gasped out as the tears finally dripped down his face. Placing a delicate kiss on her forehead he turned and walked out the room – if he started any longer at her he would do something; he didn’t know what yet, but it wouldn’t be good.

His footsteps echoed viscously in the hallway as he marched down towards the group of heroes sat in the living room; waiting, begging, pleading that she would be okay. They better pray some more.

Natasha was the first to see Tony enter the room, she kept quiet and just watched him, standing there- catatonic. Her eyes followed the figure as it went towards the island that separated the living room from the kitchen. Those eyes were swimming in tears as they watched Tony hunch over the island, his shoulders wide and stiff as he started hard at the marble countertop.

“Tony?” Eyes snapped to the red head that asked the question, then followed her line of sight to the billionaire that looked too quiet. No one moved as the man in question looked up to meet the questioning gaze of his teammate. No one moved as he turned his back towards everyone.

But everyone flinched when the figure lurched forward and grabbed the flowerpot off the stand and throw it across the room, next were the plates and decorations on the island, they flew across the room and landed in a million pieces.

Chairs, books, spoons, and pots danced in the air and crashed onto the floor.

It went on for minutes, the display of vulnerability became too much for Tony as he stopped and looked at the mess he made, back facing the team, he looked down the corridor he came from minutes ago. It was littered with piece of broken porcelain and china.

His face remained stoic as an image of (Y/N) appeared in front of him, broken and shattered in a million pieces, too many for him to put back together.

He couldn’t fix her. No one could.

He turned to the team, “I want background on the man that did this, everything. I want no place let untouched you hear me?” the silence answered his question. He looked at his team- “Where the fuck is Rogers?”

Bucky looked at Sam and then at Natasha. They exchanged a conversation that Tony was too tired to pick up on.

“He left with K-” Nat shot the solider a look before standing up and placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“He left with her, before any of this went down. He doesn’t know.” Her perfectly arched eyebrows came together as she observed the conflict smothering Tony’s face.

With a nod the billionaire rubbed Natasha’s hand and walked away to his room not uttering another word.

But everyone felt the pressure he left behind, the severity of the situation weighed heavily on their shoulders as they all, one by one, slowly got up and put their plan into action.

But their eyes were all focused on the corridor Tony had come from, because at the end of it lay their friend and teammate fighting for her life.

March 15th 13:41pm, Downtown New York

 Steve Rogers is a man of many things, loyalty and honesty is just some of them. But ever since he woke up in a different century his views have changed, not drastically but the influence of a few certain men and women can do a lot to a man.

But it wasn’t just those people that caused his views to change slightly, it was the way the world changed, the way the people changed and their views on the world. How women walked around covered in tattoos and piercing, some women walking around in barley anything.

How men no longer seemed to show women respect, grabbing them when they see fit, how the world had forgotten about all the lives lost during the war.

All his friends.

Within the first month of him awakening from the ice he had hopes that some of his past was able to hold out, anything and within minutes of that thought crossing his mind reality slapped him hard in his perfect face. Everything he knew was either changed or gone and that was that, no bullshit. And he was kind of glad about that, he knew he had to figure out what to do and he need that distraction, any distraction would be welcomed with opened arms.

After the attack of New York, he made it a priority to learn about what he missed and gain new skills, cooking being one of them. And he did, he prided himself on that, all the new skills he learnt being able to use the tablets and phone that are interactive and portable, learning that things taste so much better when there not boiled. And that he really, really feels out of place.

Although Stark offered to house him in his tower after the attack of New York, he declined. He found comfort in the separation between work and, and he didn’t really have a life outside of being Captain America. He didn’t have anything because everything in that apartment was already there when he moved in, including the food.

He worked his frustration out in the gym not far from where he lived. The same place Nick Fury asked for his helped, where he found his purpose again. But he still felt empty. So, he did what any sane person would do.

He talked to Natasha.

Now Steve Rogers is a man of simple things, he finds happiness in other people’s happiness, find love in the fact that the world is safe from the biggest threat from his time.

“You need to get laid Rogers. Simple.”

What does a man like Steve Rogers say to that, he wasn’t exactly what you would call experienced or a natural in that area of ‘expertise’, Hell he’s never seen a woman naked before let alone touch a woman with that intent. But the more Natasha explained it the more it made sense to him, the feeling of not knowing what he needs, feeling empty.

So, he tried it.

A lot.

Steve Rogers is a man of many things, honesty, sexual prowess, and loyalty are just a some of those things that have made him the man he is today, the very same man who is waking up in a bed coated in the scent of apples and cinnamon and a sprinkling of sweat covering his back.  

“Turn it off,” the scent was intoxicating, so homely and warm. It reminded him of his mother’s apple pie. The way she sang as she made one once they got home from church, the love that went into a single slice made his heart grow with warmth. The scent was accompanied by the beeping that was increasingly getting louder and quicker not to mention slightly irritating.

“Turn it off,” a hand slapped him haphazardly on the shoulder as he cracked open an eye to look at the flashing red numbers that read 13:42. The numbers kept flashing in a sequence, they mean nothing to him just random flashing numbers. He wondered if he kept staring at them then maybe they’d start to say something to him.

Suddenly a hand came slithering past his head to push a button on top of the cubed alarm-clock. Bright red nail-polish was decorating the long nails perfectly, the manicured hands attached to the slender arm wrapped around his shoulders and a hot kiss was placed on his left shoulder.

He lost himself in the tingle that covered his back; the goosebumps that enveloped him in a warm embrace, he was happy this morning in his own little world. The nails gently ran down his abdomen and danced around his belly button. The chills sent a smile to his face.

Turning around his eyes swept across the face of the woman that lay beside him with her leg draped carelessly over his hip. The storm in her eyes became more apparent as the sun draped its warm caresses over their laying figures. The (E/C) was like liquid heaven, whispering to him to come take a swim.

“You want pancakes or something else?” Emerald green. Her eyes were emerald green not (E/C).

‘What are you doing?’

“Steve? Are you awake in there?” his eye flickered up to meet hers; a smile was plastered over her face, her lips looked dry from the amount of alcohol she consumed last night. She giggled and rolled over, so she was sat on the edge of the bed, stretching she reached forward to grab his shirt that was hanging off the edge of the bedside table. Slipping it on she pranced out of the door and disappeared.

“Fuck.”

Sitting up he looked over the bedroom that was covered in personal effects including the lace violent panties she wore last night. The room smelled of sex and a fruity perfume that hurt his head, last night it made his head flutter but right now it burnt his nostrils with how pungent it was. He grabbed his boxers lying next to his feet and pulled them on before walking out of the bedroom and into the open-planned living, kitchen area.

His eyes were drawn to the blue fabric swishing back and forth on the small figure at the island, her hair was up in a messy bun, strands sticking out everywhere as she bopped her head back and forth. Flour was smudge on her thigh and on the back of her neck; she looked over her shoulder at the sound of him sitting down at the island. He smiled back and just watched her. He felt calm this morning, he didn’t know what it was, but he felt oddly calm.

 “You want a smoothie with it as well baby?” He just hummed, too busy watching his hands fiddle with the small Vibranium bracelet that always adorned his wrist. It was given to him on Christmas three years ago when the team did secret Santa, it took a small amount of explaining for him to understand what it was.

It was a small navy-blue plush box wearing a black ribbon tie, the letter just said ‘I noticed the ones you buy keep breaking, this unbreakable like my bond with you x’ he had a hunch about who it was from and the look of surprise on (Y/N)’s face told him, it had been on his left wrist ever since.

His thumb and forefinger rubbed the links subconsciously as he thought about (Y/N)’s words last night, how the emotion on her face looked raw and deep, he was perplexed by her to say the least. He knew about her, but he didn’t know her, and god did he want to. It seemed that she kept him at an arms distance compared to everyone else, at first, he thought it was Tony’s influence but then he saw that she had Stark wrapped around her finger. He then concluded that it was him, he was the reason she didn’t trust Steven Grant Rogers.

She trusted Captain America, when they were both on the field, she trusted him. But the moment he put the persona away and the shield down, she was back to keeping him at a distance.

“Your phones ringing.” He looked up at the sound of her voice and watched as she pointed to his phone charging on the coffee table on the side of the couch.

He numbly walked over and unplugged the phone but was a second too late to accept the call. She never called him, she never really said anything to him outside of work except a goodbye and a hello. His mind was racing as he selected redial and placed his phone to his ear as he turned around and walked back over to the island.

“It was Buck,” his husky voice drifted through the air, he nodded his head as the red smoothie was placed in front of him. Placing a kiss on the top her head he muttered a thank you as she walked past heading to sit down to eat her food.

“Thank fuck Rogers, I’ve been trying to call you all night.” He scoffed at the tone he was greeted with.

“Good morning to you to sunshine, I was a bit busy last night punk.” He smiled over his glass as he heard the clattering of a fork behind him.

“I need you in here right now Steve.” He chugged down the rest of his smoothie and sucked in a breath. He booked the weekend off, if it was an emergency, they knew the protocol.

“I’m off all weekend punk, you know this. If this is about the unfinished paperwork hand it to (Y/N), she knows the detail, she can finish them for me.” He heard silence on the other end of the phone, he called out Bucky’s name thinking the line went dead but him clearing his throat told him that he was silent for another reason.

“She can’t do that right now Steve, she’s down. Someone got to her.”

The thick glass in his hands shattered, breaking into tiny shards. Cutting his hands and his heart.

______

Taglist;

@vicmc624

Siren’s lullaby

Geralt of Rivia x WOC/reader

Summary: (Y/N) seeks the Witcher to help her capture the woman that shed the blood of her family. She may have the voice of an angel but her intentions are far from heavenly.

Warnings: Blood, violence, murder, torture, language, nudity, discrimination, abuse/assault  your media consumption is your own responsibility, you have been warned 18+

WC- 1.6K

Masterlist 

I am hosting a little competition of sorts, I will pick five people to have their character be in my story just fill out this form- HERE. 

The ocean flourished under the caress of the afternoon sun; waves lulled softly against the side of the ship as they foamed back into itself, the voices of the men drowned out the song of the birds as they ran about fixing sails and tying ropes. A man sat on the railing of the figure-head and watched carefully as the water rippled around them. His tanned skin glistened with sweat under the sun as he sharpened his knife, his eyes and mind were elsewhere.

A whisper of lust and flesh floated in the air, dancing around his head as he looked of into the distance, his hands worked independently – sharpening the knife on the flat stone he found in the hull of the ship, the motion came naturally to his body after years of repeating the same motion. The whispers grew quietly into a song of men floating to the treasure at the bottom of the sea, where gift beyond men were to be found. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought a ghoul was sat beside him, lips pressed against his ear and lulling him with unforeseen riches.

His eyes casted downwards, watching as the blues and greens mixed together creating an illusion of a fantasy that was always told in fairy tales. A lost city and civilisation of merepeople. He remembers the stories he use to hear from the elders, the upper-body that of a human, and the lower half was that of a fish with tails almost twice the size of their body, decorated in intricate scales and colours, with a fin at the end that helped them propel through the waters. Their hair a celadon-green and nipples of light-green. He remembered how many elders and others of his race were enamoured with their looks calling them nymphs of the sea, singing about their looks and the great power they hold.

But he was a child then, naïve, and simple-minded. Now he’s a man and the branding on his left forearm reminds those he crosses paths with that he is a dangerous man.

“You never think you are going to fall in sir?” his accent catches itself on the syllables, making it seem more pronounced and thicker. The man in question looked over his shoulder, throwing a hearty laugh to his crewman he put his knife back in it pocket and swung his body around before jumping back onto the deck.

“You insult me Mayarnde, all these year on this beauty and you still think I can’t balance myself right.” With a slap on the back, he moved towards the centre of the ship giving orders, joking with his men. The hour of peace brought clarity to his mind, something he needed from the past two moons. He thanked the stars for the peaceful journey, but deep down he really knew the reason, he would be foolish to deny it.

He made his way to back of the ship where the door to his quarters stood red wood splintering with age and the constant battle from the sea. It looked like it could do with a new glaze. The money he was getting paid after this trip would be enough to completely redo the entire ship and there would still be some left over.

“Maybe a visit to a brothel, the men could use the release.” He scratched his head as the thought occurred to him, he hadn’t laid with a woman for two moons. None of his men had, usually when they make a quick stop to grab some previsions, they have time to visit a whore or two. But their current guest was adamant on getting to their destination as quickly as possible. And god was he suffering.

He shut his door behind him and looked over his quarters, the desk was covered in parchments and writing utensils, the table in the middle of the room was completely covered by the map – markings plotting their course and other annotations that made little sense to him, his windows were open letting the warm breeze dance around. The parchments on the dark wooden walls fluttered as the wind gently swayed by, the sound of scribbling told him that someone had awaken.

Taking off his coat and throwing it onto the back of a chair, he wandered over to the map and observed the new markings, a thick circle marked out the city Cintra telling the man that was their final destination. It caused his eyebrows to raise, all this time and not once had he seen any city marked like this one.

“So, he is here then, the one you are looking for?” his violet eyes looked up to the woman hunched over the desk, reading new parchments that had only just arrived by raven. Her (H/C) hair was set free, coiling around her face and down to her navel, her deep-toned skin shone with a light sweat as she sat in the embrace of the sun. He watched her for a second noting the strange celadon-green highlights that would catch the sun every once in a while.

“Mhmm, Minoa told me that she heard talks of him in the area. Last, I know is that no one had seen him for weeks.” She shrugged her shoulders, not once looking up at the man in front of her. “But if Minoa said he was in the area that he is. It kind of her thing.” Her voice always brought a strange sensation over the man. He couldn’t exactly place it but, it felt relaxing almost peaceful.

“When do you want to dock because I saw land. So, we can reach there by the end of tomorrows light.” He rested his hip against the table, his sole focus on the woman. He only now notice that she was wearing his tunic with her trousers. It suited her, it suited her really well.

He really needed to visit a brothel soon.

“We can dock tomorrow, let the men rest, fuck a few whores and drink to get their shit back together. But I won’t leave the ship for a few days.” The language that came from her mouth never ceased to amaze him. When he first met her, he was taken aback by the way she dressed – tunic and trousers but the way she wore them made it seem perfectly fit for her. Her gaze was captivating and pierced his soul as she spoke to him. It trapped him in a trance. She had the air of a regal and noble lady, but the mouth of a sailor. It helped his men feel at ease.

The past two moons had been hard, the constant stopping and starting that only she knew the reason behind. But she helped his men through it, she had plenty of coin to keep their bellies happy throughout their trek across the great sea – meat and drinks that only the finest in life would eat. She was stronger than everyone thought too, she didn’t slink away into the quarter and stay there for the past two moons, she slaved away like the rest of the men. And her fighting skills were beyond anything he’d ever seen.

And he has seen some shit.

She finally looked up from the parchment and held his gaze, her plump lips spread into a soft smirk as she watched the man in front of her dumbly nod his head.

“Sorry Captain Saria, I forget you are not used to a woman using such language. I keep forgetting that, and I will most certainly need to fix my tongue once we land in Cintra.” She puffed out a laugh and bit her bottom lip. It had been some time since she’d been around people. Her life was normally quite and simple, in her term anyway.

She pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes, letting them rest for a moment. She didn’t even remember blinking in the last few hours.

“(Y/N), what exactly are you looking for?” his violet eyes bore into her figure, he waited with bated breath for her to answer. And when her eyes met his, it took everything in him to not falter. It always amazed him how magnificent her eyes were, they could be the most tantalising feature throughout her entire being. One eye a breath-taking colour of (E/C) and the other celadon-green. It did give him some comfort, knowing that there was another out there from an ancient race. Throughout most of his adventures around this world he hardly saw anyone who looked like him, his elven bredrin had become scarce on this harsh world.

He was lucky with the life he has now.

“This man, he.” She put the writing pointe down and stood up from the chair she had been in for the past hour. She came in font of the desk and swiftly pulled herself to sit on top of it. She watched as Captain Saria looked her over, his violet eyes gazed at the shoulders that became exposed when the tunic slipped down.

“We have a lot in common, we are two beings that aren’t accepted in this world, Saria, he is going to help me find the woman that killed my family, my blood.” She brought her left arm forward and used her right hand to slowly roll up the sleeve of the tunic. An angry, jagged scar set itself along the expanse of her forearm. she delicately traced it with her fingers, a light mummer of pain made itself known. She had ran from her past, detached herself from everything she knew and it had worked. She became something she never dreamed of, she doesn’t even recognise her own reflection. (Y/N) looked back up at Saria, his eyes were dull, the sympathy felt mocking to her.

“I am the only one left out of my colony, I had to flee my home and become something I hate because my own home is unsafe. She took everything from me, and I intend to make her suffer.” (Y/N) let her arm flop back down. Her eyes clouded with the memories of her past, the laughter and pain, the children, Her blood.

Her people.

“And the Witcher is going to help me find her.”

__________

Let me know what you think my darlings. if you wish to be tagged let me know in the comments. 

❤️❤️ I love all of you who have shown your love for my work. And I don’t think you understand how much it means to me that you reach out.

I think all content creators can relate to this.

In my opinion, I don’t think followers really understand how much your requests/likes/reblogs/etc. and random asks mean to me. It’s just so refreshing and nice to know that people enjoy what I’m doing and support me.

People that go the extra mile and send an ask or message letting me know they liked my stuff honestly makes my day. I love reading tags and stuff…it’s honestly so cute….

And people who ask about how I’m doing or send me random questions or cute asks….I just want you guys to know it honestly makes my day. I just love all the interaction and such. It makes running a blog so much more enjoyable.

And Fanart/Fanwork? Honestly that’s one of the greatest things to receive. To everyone that draws or writes, please don’t feel too insecure to send it end! No one is going to criticize you over quality. It’s so sweet that you even thought about making something…I will always appreciate it no matter what, and I’m sure all other content creators feel the same.

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A beautiful piece by Nikkolas smith.

Rest easy Mr Floyd. I and the world will forever remember you. 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽