#widow memes

Send me a ❤️ if your muse has thought about mine naked more than once. | Accepting

@hydrasweapon​ left a message:  ❤️ tbh a lot of Natasha being naked aND DOING THE CHOKING THING WITH HER THIGHS

He’s not alone. XD Honestly there’s a whole fan club dedicated to that I think.

MY MUSE HAD BEEN KIDNAPPED AND TORTURED FOR THE PAST WEEK SEND “I’M HERE- I’M HERE, NOW” FOR YOUR MUSE TO SAVE THEM || Accepting

@khakerskayavdova​ left a message: “I’m here- I’m here, now”

Capturing the Black Widow was not an easy feat. There were a handful of times, barely enough to count on one hand that Natasha had ever had someone get the drop on her.

Though when everyone believed you were dead, it was hard to convince them of the mistake they were making.

What she didn’t expect to see when she started coming too, was Faina. Suddenly, Natasha was very awake and her body very stiff. A reminder of the past week. She groaned a bit, trying to move and finding it a little impeded still at the moment.

SEND 💪 TO PICK UP / CARRY MY MUSE  | Accepting

@sentineloftheunderworld​ Left a Message:  💪

SEND A WORD AND I WILL WRITE A DRABBLE OR HEADCANON BASED ON IT ​| Accepting

@sentineloftheunderworld​ left a message: betrayed

“You have to let him go.”

The words rang in her ears. She wanted to scream because of them. But she was silent. She was without emotion.

This was betrayal.

Everything about it was wrong. She considered leaving then, telling Veld and Shinra to fuck themselves. She paced her apartment thinking about it. Her cat taking refuge from the storm that was his owner moving back and forth through the living room as though she meant to wear the carpet down. The sun set, darkness and green glow filling her windows and she took no notice.

But after a while she stopped and flopped down onto the sofa, which was too sturdy for its own good. In the process she knocked the cute plush chocobo from his place and onto the floor. She stared at it for a moment, her mind still reeling.

Vincent Valentine would not just abandon the Turks. Not like this. Something was being hidden, she was sure of it. Something had happened to him…

Her jaw tightened at the thought, the pulse in her neck coming alive. He couldn’t be dead. But why weren’t they saying it?

“I have to let him go… bullshit.” She hissed and then punched one of the pillows that sat on the sofa, somehow resisting the urge to rip it apart.

But what other explanation was there? It was the only way a Turk would leave another behind. Death. She took a breath, slow and deep and then another before sitting up to grab the fallen stuffed toy from the floor and wrap her arms around it, burying her face into the soft plushness of it.

How could she let go of someone who ensured her survival in such a harsh reality? How could they expect her to just go on as though it didn’t matter. It hurt. And worse it was an insult to the man as well as to the Turks. Why was she the only one angry? Surely she wasn’t… she knew Clint had held disappointment, but had resigned himself to the orders from their Superiors. But it was not a waste of time, effort and money to keep looking for their own, but it had been forbidden and anyone caught would receive the highest form of punishment.

Fine.

She would play by the rules, she would do as told because she knew that doing the opposite would also be a betrayal to Vincent’s memory. He would tell her to suck it up, perhaps not in those exact words, but she knew he would rather her be the consummate professional he had trained her to be, than to give it up and put all his efforts in her to shame.

“...”

SEND 💪 TO PICK UP / CARRY MY MUSE | Accepting

@shieldshawk​ left a message:  💪