A gift from heaven (Loki x Natasha x daughter!reader)

Chpt.13 don't fail

The weight of inadequacy bore down on me like an unrelenting storm. I was never good enough, no matter how hard I tried.

The instructors constantly compared me incessantly to a former Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, whose reputation is an almost mythical figure haunted the halls of the Red Room.

I couldn't escape the endless references to Romanoff's skill, beauty, and success. The memory of her was a looming shadow, a perfect reminder of what I could never be. A perfect agent.

The comparisons were brutal, a constant reminder of my perceived shortcomings. My combat moves were never as fluid as Romanoff's, my aim not as precise, and my ballet not as graceful.

The instructors took every opportunity to highlight the disparity between me and the legendary Black Widow, pushing me to be better, faster, and stronger.

Loneliness crept into my empty heart as I yearned for connection in this cold and unforgiving place. I had no friends, no confidants. Trust was a rare currency, and even a hint of camaraderie was met with suspicion. I  felt incredibly isolated, my only company the echoes of my own doubts.

The constant pressure was unbearable. I was drowning in expectations, gasping for a breath of approval that never came. The sleepless nights were filled with tears of frustration, as I wondered if I could ever measure up. I had entirely lost myself in the relentless pursuit of perfection, and the person I once was seemed like a distant memory.

My longing for an identity, for a connection, for a sense of belonging, intensified with each passing day. The Red Room had stripped away my past, my life, leaving me in a cold and unforgiving present.

I had become a shadow of my former self, adrift in a sea of unattainable expectations, haunted by the memory of Natasha Romanoff, and weighed down by the crushing loneliness of her existence.

One morning I got called into the office of our dear leader.

My heart raced as I stood before General Dreykow in his opulent office, the heavy atmosphere of foreboding pressing down on me like an insurmountable weight.

My latest mission had been a huge failure, a glaring testament to my persistent inadequacy. I had let my team, my so called family down, and now the consequences were about to be laid bare.

I was so scared of what he would might do to me. When the huge door opened I tried my best to keep up a confident posture as best as I could.  When I slowly walked into the room my heart was racing.

Dreykow sat behind his grand desk, his steely gray eyes fixated on me. His face remained an impenetrable mask, revealing nothing of his thoughts or emotions. His fingers tapped a slow, rhythmic beat on the polished wood, an unnerving accompaniment to the silence that filled the room.

"Elinor," he finally spoke, his voice measured and cold, "You've had your share of setbacks, and I've been patient. But patience wears thin. Your latest mission was a disaster. Your failure to retrieve the data was inexcusable."

I swallowed down the hard lump, my throat dry. I had failed, and now I stood on the precipice of my own undoing. My trembling and sweaty hands clenched into fists at both of my sides as I struggled to find her voice.

"I... I can do better, General. Give me another chance, please. I'll prove myself," I pleaded fearful, desperation seeping into my words.

Dreykow's gaze bore into me, as if weighing my worth. After a long pause, he finally spoke, "Very well, Elinor. This is your last chance. We have a new mission for you. You'll be going to New York, to Stark Industries. Your objective is to infiltrate Tony Stark's lab and steal a piece of vital technology that we need. This is a critical mission, and failure is not an option."

I nodded, the gravity of the task sinking in. Tony Stark, a name that carried its own legend. I had heard stories of his brilliance, his technological innovations, and his status as a playboy billionaire. The thought of infiltrating his lab sent shivers down my spine, but I had no choice. I couldn't fail him.

Dreykow leaned forward, his gaze unrelenting. "This mission will determine your fate, Elinor. Prove that you are not a complete failure. Bring us that technology, and perhaps there's still hope for you. Fail, and you'll be dealt with accordingly."

I totally understood the implicit threat. I had no margin for error. This mission was now my lifeline, a last chance to prove myself.

I left Dreykow's office with a newfound determination, a fire burning within me to silence the voices of doubt that had haunted me for so long.

As I prepared for my mission, a suffocating sense of angst and failure washed over me like a relentless tide.

In the small, stark room where I readied myself, my reflection in the mirror seemed to mock her, a stark reminder of all my uncertainties.

My fingers trembled as I fastened the unfamiliar black attire, the fabric feeling alien against my skin. The task at hand was daunting, the weight of my previous failures pressing down on me, shoulders like a leaden cloak. Doubts swirled in my dark mind like a turbulent storm, threatening to capsize me.

The face staring back at me in the mirror was no longer the  typical me that I remembered. It was a face marked by uncertainty, haunted by the relentless comparisons to Natasha Romanoff and the constant pressure to measure up. My breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as I contemplated the magnitude of my mission.

My thoughts were a tumultuous sea of angst. The fear of another failure haunted me, threatening to engulf me like quicksand. My mission to infiltrate Stark Industries was a perilous endeavor, and the possibility of capture or death loomed like a specter in the darkness.

I started to question my own abilities, my worthiness, and my right to even attempt such a daring mission. I was not the legendary Natasha Romanoff, nor could I ever be. The expectations and the pressure were driving me to the brink of despair.

In the midst of this mental tempest, I tried my best to find a flicker of determination, a spark of resilience. I knew that failure was not an option.

The mission had become a crucible in which my past mistakes would be either redeemed or irrevocably cemented.

My heart raced with a mix of terror and determination as I stood on the precipice of my most challenging trial yet, a trial that would either prove me worthy or unworthy to a life of eternal inadequacy in the unforgiving world of the Red Room.