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#inhuman reader
brokenpieces-72 · 2 months
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Stray
Task force 141 x dog! reader
Author note: in this story, you are 100% dog. Not a hybrid (unless we’re talking mixed breed), not a half human half dog. You are a full on dog. Think Lassie or Littlest Hobo. With that in mind, enjoy.
Let me know if you want to added to the Taglist.
The 141 are taking some time straightening out the base, doing general tasks. Ghost is fixing up some jeeps, changing the oil, making sure the engine is working properly, and loading it up with the proper gear. Soap is doing some inventory stuff, after going through weapons he was asked to help in the kitchen, assisting with meal prep. Gaz has a similar task but it was more based on an accident from another soldier who spilled a couple storage totes of ammunition. He had to sort all of them with the soldier’s help. Price was having to go over some files and paperwork that Laswell had sent over to review and fill, as well as writing some reports.
You wander on to base by sheer accident. You overhear noise and strange smells in the garage. The bay doors are open for Ghost’s safety, as he does need to turn on the engines from time to time (carbon monoxide). You wander in and sniff around curiously, while Ghost is under a vehicle lying on a creeper. Your nose picks up his scent, but it’s very faint from all the stronger ones. Instead you find the toolbox more interesting than the oddly masked man in the black t shirt and overalls. You find an odd metallic tasting stick and bite down on it to pick it up. For a while you try chewing it before getting fed up and shaking your head around. The tool gets out of your grip and flies across the room, hitting the metal walls. The loud bang startles you and you bolt from the garage. The lieutenant rolls out from under the vehicle, to inspect the sudden bang. He looks over and sees the torque wrench across the room. Once he gets to his feet to retrieve it, you’ve long since bolted out of there and into another part of the base. Eventually you smell something else. Food? You notice a couple soldiers hauling cargo towards the base kitchen. Not wanting to be spotted you follow them and duck behind the crates waiting for the soldiers to leave before slipping inside. Once you see an opening you wander in and sniff around looking for what you’re sure is meat. At this point though you would take any scraps, your mouth visibly drooling. At this point Soap has been getting the meat cooked and you smell the remaining juices on his hands. You’re tucked behind an island counter, watching him work away. Soap finishes prepping the steaks and gets them seasoned and laid on foil for them to cook later. You still smell those mouthwatering, delicious smells of prepped steaks as he walks to another spot in the kitchen. Then you hear running water, and small something else. No no no, the smell is disappearing! Where did the meat go? Did he wash it down the sink?!
Soap finishes washing his hands and goes to another part of the kitchen where a couple of soldiers are sitting around an emptied box with a few other boxes with potatoes inside. Soap is glad he wore his comfortable cargo pants today cause the chairs were not gonna be comfortable to sit on for long periods. He got a new apron, discarding the old on in a bin. It didn’t hold the same smell, to your disappointment. But those potatoes would do. You just needed to get them away from the boxes. You’d learned from experience that kitchen staff don’t like when you take their food, even when you beg nicely. Soap puts a new apron on, not wanting to get wet stains on his grey shirt, if he missed the box.
You wait patiently, which isn’t really patient. It feels like forever that they’re peeling potatoes but you know more people might come, and you’re really hungry. This would have to be a grab ‘n grub. You eye one potatoe, and it goes into soldier’s hand. Okay not that one. That potatoe then, nope another soldier took it. Dang it. They kept grabbing them before you could lock on to a proper target. Screw it, you’re hungry. As soon as Soap takes out the potato from the box, locked in conversation with the others you make your move. You bolt out of the hiding spot, and snatch the food from his hand, just getting his fingers a bit. Soap looks down, only seeing an oddly shaped mass coming towards him out of the corner of his eye. He isn’t fast enough though to stop you from getting your target, and snatching it from his hand and running off out of the kitchen. You do knock over some boxes and cause a soldier to stumble while Soap is still reeling from what just happened.
Finally you’ve got some food! Your tail is wagging while you’re bounding across the base with joy, looking for somewhere to eat. It’s a little difficult as your stunt got you in a some trouble, so soldiers are looking around to figure out what happened. Nothing to high security but it’s clear you’ve cause a bit of a disturbance and you hear the soldier barking and shouting to figure out where you are. While he’s outside you best go inside and you find another door open, this one leading into the big building. You duck around corners and into rooms as you look for a safe spot. Soon you find one just outside a storage room. The potato is nothing compared to the meat Soap had been making but it would suffice. You continue eating, chewing away until you notice a couple men leaving the room. Not noticing you laying on the floor with a potato you go back to it until you hear someone sighing inside the room. Thankfully you’re able to finish your potato and lick up the rest before peeking inside and noticing Gaz sorting cartridges. They were pretty much everywhere with one right by your paws at the door. Gaz was sitting on a bin collecting groups of cartridges and putting them in groups to oraganize back into bins afterwards. After a good stretch you pick up one of the cartridges in your mouth and bring it over to him. Gaz looks up surprised to see a dog, but pleased seeing what’s in your mouth. When he tries to take it though you pull it away. You offer it again, but pull it back again.
“Come on dog, give. Drop it.” He orders. You don’t and instead step back bouncing with your front paws, and wagging your tail. Gaz gives in and stands reaching for the cartridge and you pull it away again, nearly making him trip over the other ammo on the floor.
“Oi! Come here.” He says, but you’re running off again in no time, making him give chase. By now he knows you’re not a K-9 so he wants to avoid damage while he can. You figure it’s all a game though. You keep running and eventually run past Price’s office who by now hears Gaz calling after you to drop the ammo. He gets up and peeks out of office, seeing only your fluffy tail as you round a corner, while Gaz slows outside his office.
“Kyle you want to tell me what’s going on?” Price asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Cap’n I-“ Kyle starts, but soon is cut off by a ticked off Scottsmen further down the hall.
“Ya bloody food stealing mongrel!” Soap shouts. Kyle and Price exchange a look before heading in the direction of the Scottish anger.
They find soap cornering you with the cartridge still in your mouth. You know you’re in trouble now. You finally drop the cartridge, ears going flat and whimpering.
“Sergeant?” Price asks. Soap doesn’t take his eyes off you, keeping you in the corner.
“We’ve got a rogue dog.” The sergeant calls back.
“Yeah I can see that, ease up on it Soap.” The Captain instructs. You whimper in the corner, barking at Soap now. You just wanted to leave now. You didn’t like someone keeping you cornered, and yelling at you.
“Soap let up.” Kyle insists. The sergeant steps back and as you continue to cower in the corner, giving a few more scared barks. Price shook his head. Clearly a stray that had wandered in by accident and was just hungry and wanting attention.
“What do we do with it captain?” Kyle asks. You look up at the burly man who is asking himself the very same question. Price sighed and stepped closer putting his hand out for you to sniff. There’s more whimpers at first, but you give a small sniff.
“You’re okay… you’re okay.” He says softly, and reaches out to touch you. You whimper again but his gently hand in your fur calms you down. It’s not everyday you get someone willing to pet you, or rather show you kindness. You keep your eyes on the captain letting him pet you. In the process Price was checking your collar for any information. Nothing. The collar was pretty rugged and in leather.
“I think this one needs a bath. Don’t need anyone getting fleas.” He says.
Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @H0n3y_L3m0n @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846
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anika-ann · 5 months
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Back and Forth - masterlist
Pairing: Steve Rogers x agent! Inhuman!reader
Type: enemies-ish to lovers series
Summary: Calling yourself an Avenger would be overstatement, even if you have been joining them on missions quite frequently lately. Calling them your friends would be an overstatement also. Calling you and Steve Rogers friends, now that would be an insult to the entity of friendship – though unlike him, you have enough self-awareness to admit that he isn't the only one to blame for that. Most of the time anyway.
However, the Avengers need your abilities and so you and Steve tolerate each other – or at least you’re trying, your back and forth visibly annoying your colleagues and exhausting you both.
And then you’re thrown into a situation where mere tolerance isn’t an option. That should end well, shouldn’t it?
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Characters to appear: Steve Rogers, ‘reader’, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, mentions of Phil Coulson, Daisy Johnson and few others
Setting: slight AU 'cause everyone lives thank you very much, no Civil War or further, references to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D without a fixed timeline
Warnings: besides canon-typical violence, this series deals with topics which might be trigerring for some people - please, read with caution and resposibility
Playlist 🎵 (NEW)
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STORYLINE:
Prologue 
Part 1 
Part 2 
Part 3.1 // Part 3.2
Part 4.1 // Part 4.2 
Part 5 
Part 6.1 // Part 6.2
Part 7
Epilogue
Number of parts/chapters is estimated. Did I add one extra already? Yeah, but shhh
Dividers by firefly-graphics, moodboard by me - and created for the vibes, for it does not necessarily reflect the reader's appearance.
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Taglist open 🥰
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onyxthecrow · 1 year
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WHAT IS UPPP!!! Love to see a new x reader blog poppin up, could ya do some bob w/ an alien/nonhuman s/o??? Would be appreciated
HEYYY and ofcc!! Also next time if want to specify features like if the s/o has or horns or a tail that would be greatly apprecieted :))
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•he thinks you're intresting and loves learning abt you!!
•also if u have a tail that shows emotions he watches ur tail to see how ur feeling if u dont rlly show emotions with ur face/have problems showing facial expressions :))
•again if u have a tail i feel like if you are comfortable with it he would mess with it in a sense if that makes sense??? Like just twirling it around his finger i hope that makes sense lolz😭😭
•if u have to hide from ppl i feel like he wouldnt rlly mind aslong as you ignore the body parts in the fridge
•he loves just telling you facts abt the human body
•if ur naturally on the warmer side he loves cudding you (not that he didnt alrr just a lil more)
•hes prolly considered feeding you human meat but decided against it
•if you dont know how to cook he tries to show you how too :))
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konigsblog · 4 months
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tw: stepcest, noncon/dubcon, age gap (20s-50s), pet play, creepy-stepdad-könig, pervy-könig, fem!reader, daddy issues (kinda?) gross&mean men :(.
stepdad könig would love to treat his dumb stepdaughter like an animal, to put you in your place.
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whenever your mother is away, your stepfather has full control over you. you're so easily manipulated and influenced; you'll listen to whatever he says and preform it eagerly, just to make him happy in the hopes of getting some validation from a male figure in your life. stuff that consists of you being humilated and taunted, embarrassed and degraded like you're worth nothing, that your only job is to be good for your perverse, greedy, selfish stepfather.
he even has a cage in the basement, something your mother doesn't know about. she's away on a business trip for her work, unaware and fully trusting of her husband to leave him with you. he'll collars you, putting you into the dog cage and locking it there. if you're hungry, he'll treat you to his special. just open your mouth, let him cover your eyes-- oh, and relax your throat a little, schatz!
you're always on edge around him. you know exactly what he's like, his disgusting and deranged needs for his college stepdaughter.
fighting sleep in the dog cage in fear that he'll sneak down and take advantage of you when you're unexpecting and easy. he's done it before. you were awoken to the feeling of pain down between your thighs. feeling sensitive and raw, you opened your eyes, hearing heavy breathing. unable to see who it was, you listened... and when you struggled against him, a familiar voice whispered beside your ear, in an attempt to soothe you. “it’s alright, liebling.-- let your stepfather take what he deserves, prinzessin...”
you can only shake and sob when you're underneath him. it's humilating — humilating to sit in a bath while he watches from above, scarily and eerily perving on you. his hands never leave, the reach lower ‘til they're pumping inside you. and when you're quiet, he pets you like an obedient dog, a good dog learning. he always brushes aside your worries selfishly for his own gross, disgusting needs...
“relax, my dear. let me fill this pretty pussy..-ja, you take it so well, no need to panic, my girl.”
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I was thinking, so before sebastian’s heat actually kicks in his bird side (since he’s a crow demon) will start to be more noticeable. Like when he’s doing his chores he’ll find like a shiny thing and take it to his room. So if you go into his room before his heat there are a lot of shiny things just sitting there.
Yess, ok honestly I think he’d make a lil nest in his room AND your room bc he wants two nest incase you have a large clutch this season (he completely forgets humans don’t lay eggs) and he sings to you on an almost daily basis.
Crows mate for life, making him extra protective of you when his mind is clouded in his pre-heat state.
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Sebastian (preheat/inhuman behavior, slight implication of breeding)
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You had a long day and wanted to sleep, but your bed was COVERED in blankets, pillows, feathers and…fur? You looked closer to see there were ‘fluffy’ clothes on your bed too. Your bed had none of these on it when you woke up this morning and there’s only one person who has access to your room!
“Sebastian!”
You shouted, intentionally sounding more upset than you actually were to get him to hurry to your side. Unsurprisingly he was standing beside you in a moment. “Yes Master? What’s wrong?” You gesture to the bed and Sebastian gives you a blank stare in response.
“Why is my bed covered in rubbish?” You huff out, walking over to your drawer, removing your necklace and rings, placing them ontop of the drawer, you weren’t gonna wear em to sleep. When you turned around, you saw Sebastian staring at the bed, looking a little offended by your remark.
“It’s not rubbish, it’s to soften the nest. It also helps retain heat so the eggs won’t get cold.” Sebastian says, turning back to you with a smile. You scowl back at him.
“Nest? Eggs??? What the hell are you talking about? Are you planning on getting chickens? Why would we keep them in my bed?” You shove the ‘rubbish’ off your bed and get onto it. “We are not turning my bed into an incubator!”
When you looked back to Sebastian, he’s glaring at the spot on the floor where you shoved his ‘nest’. He looks back to you with a crestfallen look. “They aren’t pets, they’d be our children…” You give him a confused look. You hear a low growl escape him when you start to pull apart the ‘nest’ on the floor. You feel an arm wrap around your waist and you’re pulled off of your own bed.
Before you can protest you’re placed in a chair and Sebastian is re organizing the nest, this time putting it on the edge of your bed. Sebastian turns to you, picking you backup and tucking you into your bed. You had enough room to sleep with the ‘nest’ in your bed, but it was less than comfortable.
Fuck it, you’ll sleep somewhere else tonight. Why not the couch? Haven’t slept there in a while, maybe it’s comfier than you remember?
You got up, walking back to your drawer, not taking your eyes off Sebastian. You go to grab your necklace from the drawer, but you felt nothing when your hand landed on the drawer. You look away from Sebastian to see that the jewelry you had half hazardly left on your drawer was gone…
“Sebastian.” You glared at him. “Where is my jewelry?” Sebastian huffed as if he was annoyed. “What are you upset about? It’s my jewelry!” You hiss at him, turning to face him only to see he’s five feet from your face.
“Oh Master…I apologize I grabbed it when I walked in here.” He holds out his hand, delicately handing it to you. “It was just so tempting to take it, my bad.”
You grabbed it from him and paused, staring up at Sebastian. “What the actual hell is wrong with you? You’ve never done this shit before but now you feel the need to act up?”
Sebastian gave you an innocent smile, lowering his head a bit. “But where will we keep our eggs if we don’t keep them here? We can protect them better here.” He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you towards the bed.
You hiss at him. “I don’t know what you are talking about! Eggs go in the fridge, we,” You gesture between the two of you. “Don’t, and won’t have any eggs, understand?”
He looks surprised by your response and grumbles out something before speaking to you again. “But…it’s the best time to have them, besides-“ He pauses , shaking his head. “Oh that’s right, humans don’t go into heat, it’ll just be me…”
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mrsrookhunt · 6 months
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♟ Monster Rook Hunt 🪦
Rooktober part three! Tempting @v-anrouge in again lmaooo
Three classic monsters, one extra-extra double pickles Rook.
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Vampire!Rook
Congratulations on winning your way into this man's heart and onto his dinner table.
You're so gorgeous to him.. you make him blush, you make him stutter and gasp, you make him feel his heart flutter and his mouth water.
Absolutely thinks you're more like a creature he can't hunt, a full meal he can only have a snack from, and it is vaguely annoying to him. It's like gardening, but with the extra requirement of cuddling the plant after picking the fruit from it.
But Rook is nothing if not a man dictated wholly by his not beating heart.
Depending on whether he was born a vampire or turned, how he treats you will be different.
If he was born as a vampire: You're a snack, that's all he's been taught. He may treat you kindly but he won't fully understand human needs and love. He'll probably attempt to love you the way other vampires show love. Enjoy those blood bags he set in front of you with wide eyes and a besotted smile, waiting for you to make the first move on your shared meal.
If he was turned a vampire:
"MY LOVE, MY LOVE, I HAVE BROUGHT YOU A GIFTTTTT" and it's a 4-course meal of all his favorite foods as a human he hopes you can enjoy the same.
So extremely and extraordinarily attentive. You may be his meal, but you're also his lover, and he treats you with every bit of love and affection he's been preparing for 350 years to give.
And he's also definitely turning you into a vampire. Don't worry, he'll keep an eternity filled with his antics.
Werewolf!Rook
Very in-touch with his wild side (what's new).
You may or may not have met him at a gas station in the woods when you threw an apple core into the wooded area next to the pump, and a shaggy golden wolf came bounding back to you with wide eyes, a wagging tail, and the apple core in his mouth. Your first game of fetch. Call it a date; that's what he did anways.
Your idea of cuddles is different to his. You may like to lay on his chest and watch a movie. He may like to completely tangle all of your limbs together and bury your face in the crook of his neck, because, Rook. Don't worry maybe you can hear the movie playing.
All of your meals are hand-hunted by your one and only. In human form, he's out hunting, a good thing, since otherwise he's harassing you with incessant French. In wolf form, he just wants to lie down on the bed and be docile. Is it a show so you're not afraid of him? Maybe. I guess it's an excuse for you to stay with him for a few years forever to find out.
He would love if you were into gardening. He takes pride in hunting food for you, and would be thrilled to use some home-grown herbs to make a meal you could both be proud of.
He's very rugged. It's a fight to make him wear nice clothes. If it's not practical ripped up and some hand me down from GOD KNOWS where, he doesn't want it.
Also, shaving. I hope you enjoy stubble because he will not be getting a clean shave. He can tell you he's 'just shaved', but you wonder how many nanometers of hair he even took off.
More like a golden retriever than a wolf. If it weren't for his superb hunting skills he'd be a disgrace to the werewolf community altogether.
And we could talk about how many kids he wants but let's keep this PG
Mummy!Rook
Snuggles? Snuggles.
Rook can't speak very well like this. But he can certainly show you the depths of his affection with body language alone.
You should be honored he came back from the dead just for you. You should probably be less honored that the museum has warrants out for your arrest now because, apparently, you can't take a mummy home, even with his consent.
Have you eaten? Have you?? He keeps trying to shovel food in your mouth with every passing moment that he's allowed in your fridge. Something about 'eating like royalty'. You don't know, honestly. The gauze makes it hard to hear him.
From what you've gathered, he was a highly-revered huntsman in his time. Not high enough to be buried in a pyramid, but high enough to be buried with great respect to his body.
You're not sure what brought him back, honestly, his love for you, your being unsure of whether he was a real mummy or a replica, some cheesy artifact bringing him to life ...we'll never know. His desire to prove you wrong may or may not have been at 100%
Did I mention he loves snuggles?
Do NOT try to remove the wrap. It's not for security reasons. It will not harm him to remove it. HOWEVER HE WOULD RATHER NOT UNDRESS UNTIL MARRIAGE THANK YOU.
Try suggesting he put on clothes over his wrap. It's not comfortable. It's like when you have long sleeves and you try to out a jacket over them. But if it's comfortable for him... just buy two sizes larger and try to ignore it.
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Part two coming soon!
Suggestions for monsters are more than welcome!
-Oct. 16th, 2023
-Kaori
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yoitscro · 7 months
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Homestuck Beyond Canon
Just as a side note,
Regardless of how you feel about Homestuck 2/Beyond Canon from the past, the new team should be treated with basic decency.
If you're not interested, then look forward to other future Homestuck projects, or other franchises that you enjoy entirely. But don't be one of those people who wish for the downfall of another indie thing that isn't made for you.
It is arguably made for people who like Homestuck Beyond Canon versus the entire fanbase. Just like how Hiveswap is made for Hiveswap fans. You can say it doesn't need to exist, but you can dismiss any kind of art like that.
I highly doubt this new team is coming back to cause strife. They're here to make something for fun regardless of its previous footprint. It is, at this point, an officially acknowledged fanventure. I assume yall know how to respect fanventures.
Be normal and keep your past grievances out. Obviously, critique will come, and isn't outlawed, but don't be daft. Since we all have had over a year to do other things and hopefully have a healthier way to interact with this series as a whole, I hope people realize that repeating the same behaviors as before, whether or not they like the direction of things, will only bring back familiar toxicities. At that point, you'll be straight up stupid to scratch your head and wonder why things die out if you start scrutinizing the character of artists and writers that are a degree away from (if not already in) your same fan space.
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wannaeatramyeon · 9 months
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Lookism ✨delusions✨
Gun Park: Mass murderer? NO. Grumpy and soft? YES.
Goo Kim : Crazy, sells his soul and you for some cash? NO. Fun, slightly chaotic, loyal to you and soft? YES.
Samuel Seo : Unhinged and mentally unstable? NO. Easy to fix, and soft? YES.
Vin Jin : Asshole that kicks puppies? NO. YOUR asshole and soft? Yes.
DG: Calls security on you? NO. Shares everything with you including his past and soft under that hard exterior? YES.
Ryuhei Kuroda: Sexual harassment? NO. Simp and soft (not in the way it matters)? YES.
Eli Jang: Tragic figure that puts Hostel above everything? NO. Happy family with you and Yenna, and soft soft soft? Yes yes yes.
Johan Seong: Slaps you away? NO. Follows you around like a lost puppy and soft under his edgy demeanour? YES.
Jake Kim: Sweet and soft? Well... yes. Sweet and soft. (Delusion off the charts with this guy.)
...Seong Taehoon: Kicks you in the face? NO. Find you adorable and not cringe? YES.
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captainsophiestark · 7 months
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Weirdest Day Ever
Daisy Johnson x Reader
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Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for Fictober 2023!
Fandom: Marvel
Day 12 Prompt: "I'm not saying I didn't like it."
Summary: Daisy and Y/N broke up a long time ago rather than attempting long distance. Now, with a nudge from a terrigen crystal, the very thing that tore them apart might bring them back together.
Word Count: 1,694
Category: Angst, Fluff
Requested by @trekkingaroundasgard! Thanks for the request Nicola, and I hope you like it!
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
The weirdest day of my life, to date, was the day I saw my ex-girlfriend on the news three times in the course of twenty-four hours, as a new superhero working for SHIELD. And until I bit into a takeout sushi roll from my favorite restaurant, I thought nothing could beat it for the number one spot.
Then I'd started transforming.
Inhumans and inhuman transformations had been in the news once or twice lately (at least one of my ex's appearances had been in connection with it), but I hadn't really thought much of it. I'd certainly never imagined I might be one of them, a latent alien gene just waiting in my genetic code. But as a chrysalis started to form around me, fear took over, and I knew what came next.
I didn't know how much time passed for me while I was totally crystalized, but when I came out of it, I collapsed in a heap on the floor. It had felt like floating, through time and space, with no anchor. My body was exhausted and a little sore, and my head hurt. I looked around, finally glancing at a clock to see about four hours had passed.
What the hell was I supposed to do now? Seriously, what did somebody do after a transformation like that? What was the normal reaction?
Slowly, I got to my feet, waiting for some crazy, obvious sign of my change. I walked to a mirror on unsteady feet to find that I looked the same as before, if a little shakier than when I'd been trying to enjoy my favorite food for lunch in peace.
I frowned down at my hands, experimentally shaking one out in front of me to see if anything happened. When it didn't, I flared my hand out, fingers spread wide.
That's when the new weirdest day of my life really kicked off.
A bright purple forcefield bubble appeared around my hand, growing rapidly in size the longer I left my hand extended. I watched it in fascination, until I heard a crashing sound behind me and whipped around to find the door of my apartment busted open. A dozen people in military tactical gear broke through the door, headed right for me.
Reflexively, I flung my hands up in front of my face. With my new powers, the forcefield responded, exploding in a circle around me and knocking the strangers backwards and off their feet. My sushi clattered to the ground, and I leapt over it as I raced past the stunned soldiers and through the door.
I heard shouts from behind me followed shortly by thundering footsteps. My pulse roared in my ears, beating a million miles an hour as I burst into the stairwell and ran down as fast as possible. I had no idea what my plan was, other than 'get away', which felt like a decent first step.
I barreled through the lobby of my apartment building and into the street, the people chasing me not far behind. I staggered a little, unsteady on my feet, more tired than I'd normally be thanks to the use of my new powers. I glanced over my shoulder, then flung my hands up to defend myself again as shots—hopefully nonlethal—fired at me. They bounced off my forcefield, but each hit still felt like a punch in the gut with the effort it took to deflect.
I screamed, flinging my arms out harder and farther away from me, sending another wave of purple force pushing my attackers back. It nearly knocked me to the ground, too, but I managed to stay on my feet and keep running.
I staggered around a corner and into an alleyway, hoping to lose them by going off the beaten path. I realized after a few steps, however, that I'd also just walked into a dead end. I turned around to go back the way I'd come, only to have my exit blocked by the soldier-looking people.
I stumbled backwards, almost tripping over my own two feet and going down. I managed to catch myself at the last second, heart pounding as my attackers advanced. I flung my hands out, but even the smallest forcefield had me seeing spots now.
I was trapped. No way out. And then, my day doubled down on the weirdness.
Like a fever-induced hallucination, my ex-girlfriend Daisy Johnson, formerly known as Skye, landed in front of me in a full superhero pose. She stared down my attackers, who hesitated at the sight of her, long enough for her to level a blast of her own superpower and send them flying backwards. She turned to me with a grin, and when I swayed a little on my feet this time it wasn't just because I was dizzy.
"Hey. Long time no see," said Daisy. She started walking towards me and I just watched her, still not totally convinced this wasn't a dream.
We'd only broken up because she was taking off with SHIELD, and I was moving across the country for work. We'd decided long distance with spies probably wasn't a good idea. To have her magically reappear in my life, right when some crazy latent superpower had been awakened in me... it felt too good to be true.
"Y/N? Are you okay?"
I shook my head as Daisy reached me, putting her hands on my arms and gently squeezing to try to ground me back to reality. It didn't really work.
"It's okay," she said, glancing over my shoulder before stepping even closer to me. "It's gonna be okay, I promise. We're gonna get you out of here."
I nodded. Despite not seeing Daisy for the past few years, I trusted her. I knew she'd get me out of here, that I could feel safe with her. As a result, the adrenaline quickly faded, and my light-headed exhaustion only got worse.
"It's... good to see you again," I muttered, giving Daisy the best smile I could muster. She returned with a confused frown, and I thought I saw her mouth my name, but the sound didn't make it past the encroaching blackness. The next thing I knew, I was toppling towards Daisy, the rest of the world completely slipping away.
****************
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the splitting pain in my head. I frowned before I even opened my eyes, memories of the events right before I blacked out only making my headache worse. I heard a snort, and my eyes flew open.
Daisy. Sitting on the edge of the bed I was laying in, looking at me with a fond smile. She'd swooped back in to save my life, and she looked absolutely fantastic doing it.
"Out of all the reactions of Inhumans we've saved, scowling before even waking all the way up might be my favorite," she said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. I sat up, my heart racing faster at the sight of her.
"You... saved me," I breathed. She nodded a little, her worried eyes scanning me from head to toe.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner."
"No, Daisy, oh my gosh," I scooted forward, unable to resist the pull towards her. After everything that had happened, to have her suddenly back in my life after I'd literally been attacked? I didn't want to waste another minute without her. "You saved me. You came at the perfect time, please don't apologize. I- I'm so happy to see you again."
She smiled at me, the small, soft smile that had been reserved just for me for so long when we were together, and I found myself leaning forward, pulled towards Daisy by some gravitational force. I brought my hand up to the back of her head, tangling it in her hair as I kissed her softly, every happy moment from our lives together rushing back. After a second, she pulled away, a rueful look on her face.
"Y/N-"
"Oh my God. Daisy, I am so, SO sorry. I wasn't thinking, I shouldn't have just kissed you like that, I-"
"Whoa." She held up a hand, stopping me in my tracks before I could really get rolling and rambling. I stared at her with wide eyes, and she gently took one of my hands in hers before giving me a soft smile. "It's okay. I missed you too, and when you kissed me... well, I'm not saying I didn't like it. But we haven't seen each other in a while, and you just survived a really, really big trauma that's gonna take some time to process. I think it might be a good idea if we take things a little slower."
I nodded, breathing a sigh of relief.
"Yeah... yeah, you're probably right. But Daisy? I do still want to head that way, if you do, of course. You know, back towards... something like what we had before."
She sighed. "I want that. For sure, I want that. But maybe you should take a little more time to process, make sure it's actually something you want and not just the delayed adrenaline dump or something-"
"Daisy." I shifted a little on the bed, taking my turn to stop her worry train before it got rolling, taking both her hands more firmly in mine. "Honestly, while forcefields will probably be a sick power, this whole experience has completely sucked. Every single minute of it... except for the fact that it's brought me back to you. So... if you're sure, I'm sure."
A smile steadily grew on Daisy's face, mirrored on my own until we were positively beaming at each other. SHIELD had been the thing to tear us apart, but now, it had brought us back together. There was some interesting kind of poetry to that, but I didn't care enough to analyze it. All that mattered to me was that Daisy and I would be side by side, working through all the weirdness together, today and for every new weirdest day that was sure to come our way in the future.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury
Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @luv-ghostie @songbirdcannabe
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lustful-mortal · 1 year
Text
C.N.M. | You selected to... [ACCEPT]
M. Minotaur x F. Reader
Main Story- Cow-ard no More!
CAUTION Σ(-᷅_-᷄ ๑) | Non-consensual hug & Crying
"I…I don't know what to say." You quietly spoke as your fists eased up, allowing the fabric to slip back into place.
The minotaur's ear drooped slightly at your reply, but he watched as your form relaxed and decided to go for it again. He couldn't give you up when you were right before him. So, swallowing his nerves, he straightened his posture, lowered his head, and inched the crown closer to your chest.
"Please…" He sighed and clenched the crown as his nerves crept up again, "Please consider my confession. For as long as I've been on this land, I have never come across a woman as enchanting as you. Your beauty puts Scylla's to shame. Not to mention your voice…" he sighed blissfully and looked up at you tenderly and glanced away once more, "It's like…like hearing a harp playing for the first time. No matter what is playing, it pulls you in with its soft melodies. I wish to hear it till my last breath. And your eyes, oh your eyes, they're as bri-"
"Please, that's enough!"
The minotaur could have gone on and on for hours about how wonderful you were, but he may have crossed the line as he stopped his speech of adoration at your words. Despite his fluttery feeling at being inches away from you, your comments unpleasantly pulled at his heart. He lowered the crown and lifted his head to apologize. But he was quizzical as you turned your head away the moment he made eye contact with you. Curiously he leaned his head to the side to catch a peak of your face, a grin tugging at his lips instantly.
You were embarrassed, not repulsed or weirded out. Your cheeks were a deep red, resembling the hue of cherries, and your hand was over your mouth, trying to cover up a smile of delight. He felt his skin burn up at your visible reaction to his words.
It was the first time anyone had complimented you in such a way. You've heard praises at gatherings that you dressed beautifully, but other than that, the only one who gave you compliments on your appearance was your mother. Though as appealing as his words were, you knew next to nothing about this man, beast-man??
Taking a few deep breaths, you moved your hand away from your mouth and pressed it against your thundering heart, "What's your name?" you timidly asked, keeping your head turned.
The minotaur's ear perked up at your inquiry, "Myron!" He quickly answered. Your words were not exactly an answer to his confession, but it was a start to something he wanted to build up with you.
A shiver ran through him as he heard you mumble his name a few times, testing it out. After a while, you turned to face him and placed a hand toward his. Without hesitation, he put the flower crown in your palm, his face heating up at the slight skin-to-fur contact.
You had to use both hands as the flowers were more oversized than the beast-man palms. You stared in awe at the semi-transparent petals that sparkled under the morning sun; their white stems tightly tied around each other to keep their shape, and the center of each flower held a golden beak-like body. It was the first time you had ever come across such a flower.
You continued to admire the crown before Myron cleared his throat, "Does this mean you will allow me to court you, dearest?"
You adjust the crown on your head, and by doing so, you acknowledge that you want something more with him.
"I will, but I ask that you take things slow with me. You are my fir-"
As you were about to confess that this would be your first connection, he stood up quickly and wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around.
"This is wonderful!" He laughed gleefully before setting you down after a few spins.
"Let's go notify your parents. I want to make my intentions clear to them immediately!" He grabbed your hand and began trekking in the path leading to your house.
"N-no!" you dug your heels into the dirt to stop him. Despite your strength being nothing compared to his, he still stopped to look back at you in confusion.
You wanted to avoid going through the arranged marriage the king had planned for you, but you knew things would go south quickly if he found out you had chosen Myron over a neighboring prince.
"We can't go back! My…my father has plans to marry me off to a kingdom not far from here. If I go back with you by my side, he…" You shakily sighed, unsure how to tell him what the king would do to a peculiar looking being like him.
Myon could tell something bothered you from how your hand tightened around his, but he knew his words could persuade the king to break your marriage off if he confessed to him how much he truly loved you. He tried walking again, but you kept refusing to have him see the king, pleading until you found yourself crying over it. He was unsure why it was so difficult for you to want to go with him, but in the end, he gave up.
It seemed his heart could not go against your crying form as he picked you up, pressing you against his chest and made his way home.
After all, he could come back another day on his own.
Y/N, your decision has... - spared the life of, servants, guards, the King and your mother. - worried your ex-fiancé.
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Author Note ( ´⌣`ʃƪ) | Scylla (skai·luh) was a beautiful naiad who was claimed by Poseidon and poisoned by a jealous Amphitrite who turned her into a sea-monster.
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Note
Your bird adeptus reader posts have me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure theyre so good
Okay okey I see your Bird Adeptus Reader and I raise you one Dragon Adeptus Reader, bonus points for that “not quite mastered shapeshifting yet” human disguise that has reader running around with dragon features.
This doesnt have to be considered a request but I feel compelled to share my thoughts with you in gratitude for the absolutely fantastic works you put out okey brainrot time lets go
Bumping foreheads with Foul Legacy like cats (lets be real here dragons are just lizard hardware running cat software) and having to be extra careful because of y’all’s horns so that makes it even more special. Or reader kneeling to like meditate or something, their tail is swishing behind them, and Legacy goes “!” before swatting at reader’s tail because he’s just Abyssal Moth Beast hardware running cat software.
A Dragon Adeptus would likely be very durable as well, so Legacy doesn’t have to worry about squeezing reader while cuddling or knocking into them by accident; they’re still soft and squishy and cute, but very very sturdy and able to handle all that Moth Affection.
Mutual purring, also another good thought. Legacy likes shiny objects, reader is compelled to hoard shiny objects: you really cannot lose in this situation.
It’s cat-like creatures solidarity babey!!
*unlocks your enclosure* i like the way you think anon
amongst dragons and dragon-type creatures you're considered a bit of an oddity. dragons are grand, powerful beasts that command attention or at least respect, like your secondary caretaker Zhongli (Cloud Retainer is still your adoptive mother- just because you're not the same type of adeptus doesn't mean you're not her child!) but you're smaller with softer scales and a long tail with a tuft on the end of it, still plenty durable and armed with sharp claws and adeptal powers, but you don't really have the same intimidating presence as most dragons. that's just fine with you, though- you're far more content keeping to yourself and spending time with Foul Legacy, who, in contrast, looks strong and vicious but has the softest, sweetest personality you've ever encountered, and that includes the few humans you've met and your fellow adepti
you both share several of the same habits, being essentially cats covered in either scales or armor with you being slightly more put together so you can listen to people's wishes and prayers, meditating for a couple of hours each day. whenever you sit down and close your eyes Foul Legacy always sneaks up behind you, not to spook you or anything, just to playfully bat at your tail as you work- you've taken to handing him a brush whenever he does, feeling him happily comb through the tuft of fur on the end. once he tied a little bell around it and broke into chitters of delight when you stood and instantly started jingling. you got your revenge by adoring his horns with some of the ribbons and ornaments you have for yourself- although, he seems to rather like it, so now you take a few minutes each day to pick out accessories for each other's horns, and you have plenty of shiny items to choose from
napping together is essential, particularly in sunny patches of grass. the warmth makes both of you drowsy and lethargic, Legacy nuzzling his head against your cheek and your tail wrapping around his leg. if you're particularly tired you'll change into your draconic form and completely curl around your very happy Abyssal beast, your purrs synchronizing with his. you also nap together in the most smushed clingy positions, since you want to be as close as possible- someone's face is always buried in someone's neck or chest, at all times. Legacy does make a point to be more alert in sleep than you are- you seem to fall into the deepest sleep whenever you doze, maybe it's something to do with you being a reptilian adeptus- just in case someone comes walking by, so he can wake you and help you cover your horns and tail
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anika-ann · 5 months
Text
Back and Forth - part 1
Part 1 - Snap Back
Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 7400
Chapter summary: 
In which the mission goes to hell and you and Steve clash. Again.
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Series masterlist
Warnings: blood, canon-typical violence, mention of gunshot wounds, hints of unhealthy relationship to pain, mention of death, some angst
A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance
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Steve Rogers was a very large man. Over two hundred pounds of muscle, over six feet three tall, he towered and loomed and hovered above everything and everyone. And yet, his body seemed too small to contain the huge ball of righteous anger, too small to contain the magnitude of the jerk he was being at the moment.
It must have been one of his greatest talents.
And you understood. You understood why he was pacing around, his face the perfect storm with lightning flashing from his eyes, his voice thundering; the mission was a failure, fire and destruction left behind without the important data retrieved. Hell, you understood a little too well how much of that was your fault therefore he had every right to be angry with you.
And yet. Yet, you couldn’t comprehend how that supposedly righteous man spitted around words full of rage when he was to blame himself too.
He was the one to pull you out. He was the one to shake you and break your concentration before your spectre, able to waltz behind locked doors without a key, could deliver the drive to another agent. He was the one to make you snap back, your astral projection dissipating.
Yes, your spectre had been barely walking. Yes, it had got shot in the gut and you really damn felt it. Yes, you – it, really – had been hanging on a tread, with you already at peace with the fact that once you’d snap back, you’d wake up in a hospital bed, because your body wouldn’t handle the strain. Yes, maybe you would have failed anyway, snapping back before you could do what you were supposed to. But now you’d never know, would you?
Because Steven Grant Rogers, Mr. Captain America with the ego of the size of his very moniker, couldn’t have handled you straying from his explicit order to get out earlier.
You were still shaky on your feet, barely having beaten your dizziness and having been walking the fine line of consciousness for way too long, hurting like hell the whole time, but good god, did you have the energy to fight that blonde disaster screaming you down. Especially since he was doing so in front of everyone as you remained seated on the stretcher and kept pulling at the i.v. with custom-made saline to get it from your arm and make the situation at least a bit less humiliating for you.
The audacity. The audacity it had to take for him to call you reckless and scold you for not disappearing faster despite the fact there had been another set of files that caught you eye and needed to be copied. His utter confidence that his plan was as flawless as the first kiss in the early era Taylor Swift songs; confidence that you would have got out safely and the Hydra agent would have never caught you off guard if you just listened to your Captain.
Well fuck your Captain.
You knew you were a failure. You knew that in the end, you were to blame for not getting the intel out in time before the base blown up, the flash drive lying somewhere in the corridor abandoned. Tony Stark might like to tell you that with your abilities defied the basic laws of physics, namely the law of conservation of matter and energy, but you didn’t defy them that much. You couldn’t carry things back by simply grabbing them as the spectre and snapping back to your real body; you had tried countless times, but that wasn’t how things worked, even if you wanted them to – and surely Captain Rogers did as well.
But he was the one to make you snap back. And he was able to do that, because despite the poorly masked hate he appeared to feel towards you at times, he still often made the strategic decision to be the one protecting your actual body; your paraconscious, softly levitating body, completely vulnerable to an attack. Apparently, he was the only one who could be trusted to do it after all.
Whoever called him a golden boy and actually meant it had to be an idiot.  
“You should have let me do it! I would have been able to get it to Lincoln or someone else!” you argued, hands pushing at the stretcher to stand up at last, wincing at the ghost of a sharp pain tearing at your abdomen. Never mind that, that was nothing new – Rogers’ unsolicited attack and complete lack of accountability were.
He only scoffed at your argument, crossing his arms on his stupidly wide chest. The bragger. The impossible cannot-do-wrong arse-
“Would you? You were going to pass out! I know the signs by now-”
“So what?!”
“So what?!” he echoed on full volume, throwing his arm out just as wildly as the whole tantrum. “I carried you out of there because you couldn’t walk!”
How dared he-
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you feigned regret, lowering your voice as you finally managed to rise to your feet. “I must have been such a terrible imposition to your superstrength!”
“That’s not the problem and you know it!”
Then what was his problem, you wanted to ask, but you knew that question was futile. You knew the answer already and it was annoyingly fitting to a considerably newer Talor Swift song: it was you. You were the problem he had. And the even bigger problem was that he couldn’t have you delivered back express to Coulson, because lately it seemed this team needed someone with the ability to project more than the new SHIELD did. He was stuck with you; with your apparently incapable ass.
“Do I?!” you questioned. “Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t just walk off a massive blood loss!”
Rogers winced as you spitted out the words; good. Maybe he’d think twice before yelling at you next time when the Quinjet hadn’t even touched the ground yet and everyone could watch your failure in HD since he served it to them on a silver platter.
You winced too as you breathed in deeply and fresh claws of pain dug into your abdomen again; really not good. But not unusual, even as there was no trace of the bullet wound on your body – because it wasn’t your actual body that got hit, not really. Still, the pain remained.
Yet, that was nothing to stop you from staring at Rogers as he glared at you with hard eyes, leaning forward, jaw so damn tense you might cut yourself on the tendons if you touched it.  
“You wouldn’t have suffered-- that if you’d have just followed orders!”
“Oh really?! Get over yourself, oh Mighty Captain!”
“Get over-” he repeated as if he couldn’t comprehend you just said that, breathing in deeply to ground himself and failing spectacularly since his voice was still full of accusation. “You should have brought us intel and instead we have nothing!”
You stepped forward to get your retort across almost as quickly as you felt everything in you recoil in guilt – because Rogers was right. Of course, he was right. And you knew that. You wanted to scream and cry and throw up and take a damn nap or maybe just wake up from this fucked up dream but you couldn’t, could you?
You could barely do anything.
“Well, I’m sorry! Okay?! I couldn’t do it and I’m fucking sorry! I know I fucked up! I should have pushed through more, I know, and you have no idea how pissed I am at me! But maybe I would have been just fine, if--- you shouldn’t have stopped me!”
“I wouldn’t have to snap you back if you just did what you were supposed to do!”
You grinded your teeth. Stupid, big-headed pig-headed supersoldier, if he had had any idea-
“What were you going to say just now?” he demanded, standing even taller than before, the mask of anger and disappointment shifting towards challenge.
Fight me. Yell back. Try telling me I’m wrong, when you know I’m not.
Goddamn him. He was so damn self-assured, so overconfident it would get him killed one day and you’d be there to watch like a useless dumbass, because you couldn’t do the one thing every single agent on this team should do: have your teammates’ back.
But you couldn’t tell him that. You couldn’t.
Your shoulders sagged, exhaustion washing over you.
“Doesn’t matter,” you said, minding your volume even as most Avengers and other agents got the memo and tried to give you as much privacy as possible. Bless that useless gesture. “I told you, I’m sorry. I know I need to learn to push myself more despite the pain when the stakes are high, but it’s…” You caught a flash of a new emotion you couldn’t decipher in his eyes and you looked away, scoffing, frustration flaring up again. “Why am I even telling you, what would you know about that, huh?”
What would the perfectly mighty walk-it-off Captain know about you peasants and your struggles. Ziltch. He was perfection personified, never wrong, never weak, never-
The sharp intake of breath had you snap your gaze back – and your heart stumbled in your chest. One brief glance at him and you regretted your words instantly. For one, you were too well-aware of the fact that they were bullshit. For two, you might as well wave a red cloth in front of an already enraged bull.
Steve Rogers bristled, teeth practically bared like those of an animal; he snarled like one too, but it was the tone that had cut you. The tone said so much more than his actual words and that message was like a muleta for you for a change.
“Is that what you think? You think I don’t feel pain?!”
“Maybe you don’t feel anything at all!” you snapped, throwing your arms up, gritting your teeth and closing your fists at the sharp bite at your belly at the movement. For fuck’s sake- “It sure as hell looks like it to me, to everyone! Especially since you’re yelling at me right now! I know I fucked up but it’s not easy on me either!”
The realization that he was acting like an asshole must have been quick – he froze for but a split second – but the fact he cared little for that was even faster, his counterattack coming in hot.
“Well, allow me to correct you, agent, I do feel pain – and I don’t have the luxury to switch it off when I snap back into my real body because I only have one!”
And you laughed. The burst of sardonic laugh tasted like hysteria on your tongue, actual tears burning in your eyes.
Switch it off. Switch it off as you pleased. God, that was funny. That was hilarious. So hilarious you wanted to cry. You pretended that the palm that you lifted to your face was to muffle the laughter and not to check whether some of your tears didn’t escape.
“Ooooh, ohohohooo, you think being me is so great, don’t you? Walk a mile in my shoes, Captain, we’ll see how you’ll like it!” you spat, laughing again. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t only walk, would you? You’d fucking dance en pointe and throw in a few grands jetés en tournant just for the kicks, huh? Because you are Mr.Perfect!”
Despite your challenging words, his demeanour changed in as if you snapped your fingers and the reason for that had your chest tighten in panic.
He noticed the tears. You could tell because he blinked, eyes suddenly roaming your face, his voice falling so quiet you barely heard it all of sudden; but perhaps that was only due to the ringing in your ears, the pulsing in your temples.
“That’s not--- I didn’t mean to--“
You cared shit about what he meant or didn’t mean at the moment. He saw you weak. Again. Not only you had failed, hadn’t handled the mission physically, now you were falling apart mentally right in front of him.
He was going to bench you. Worse, he was going to send you express to Coulson despite needing someone with your abilities and he would never ask you to join the Avengers again.
Fight. Show him you have the fire. Show him you’ve got what it takes. Don’t let him think you gave up.
“Well guess what, Captain, I feel pain too and I don’t have the luxury to heal in a few seconds!”
“I don’t heal that-“ he objected lowly and that was the last drop. The last drop and you cracked.
“I KNOW, okay?! You heal faster than anyone, but you still need to heal, because you can get hurt and you can get killed!” His eyes went wide and you gulped; he heard your voice break. Fuck. “Even if you don’t act like it, because you’re the mighty Captain, after all-“ you added quickly to divert his attention.
And the distraction worked. Too bad it didn’t work for you, words still spilling since the dam had been broken.
“Would you stop calling me-“
“Not all of us can be perfect soldiers, the ultimate heroes! Not all of us can do what you do, just push through everything! We fail, we hurt and we barely survive only to disappoint people like you!” you cried out.
It was the line about disappointment, you were certain – something in his expression shifted again and this time, all fight left your body for good, something inside you breaking. The new emotion on his face almost looked like compassion and you didn’t need that. You didn’t need the demigod amongst men and women to pity you and feel for you, especially not now. Not now when you didn’t deserve it because he was right and now this? You hadn’t been fast enough and strong enough – and he might have scolded you for in front of everyone, but now it seemed as if he regretted that because he needed to be the bigger person just to be fucking more perfect and you couldn’t bear it. You never could.
There was a reason why you always jumped to defence when he showed disappointment in you.
Your voice came out as but a whisper, but you made sure it was firm one. “I failed. I disappointed you and everyone else, I know. I’m sorry. I shall accept the punishment as you see fit even if that doesn’t make up for my failure.”
Nor blind nor deaf, Steve’s demeanour changed too; his eyes were suddenly as kind as his words and that was the worst part.
“I have no doubt you tried your best, Spectre, and that’s all we can ever do. The only punishment which will come is one for not following orders.”
You couldn’t help it. You should have, since you were already in such a mess, most of it of your own making, but hearing him utter those words, him of all people. The irony. You scoffed.
And like a charm, all of his benevolence evaporated in an instant; his back straightened, head held high.
“You’ve got anything to say?”
The words prickled at your tongue but you swallowed them. No. Don’t say it.
“No, sir.” Good girl.
“Clearly, you do,” Rogers opposed, eyes dark as they watched you sharply.
Well, then. Bad girl it was.
“Do I? Fine. You’re a big fat hypocrite.”
You might have as well stuck a bar into a bee hive and poked around, aiming for the queen. Rogers went from slightly annoyed to ballistic in a split second, back in your face.  
“Excuse me?!”
“Excused. I bet you were aaaaaaall about following orders in your time, weren’t you?” you mocked him, knowing you were so on point it had to burn him – that was, if he took a moment to actually consider your words, the words of the inferior, painfully imperfect being. “Even now. Never reckless, never out of line if you feel like it’s the right thing to do. Never pushy with your superstrength, never just removing people who stand in your way, because you can and you will get away with it, because you are the saint who does no wrong, not at all-“
It was his turn to scoff, his eyes burning with bright blue flame of righteousness – and disdain.
“You think being me is so great, don’t you?” he threw back your earlier words, bitter, clearly regretting the sympathy he had found for you earlier. He crossed his arms on his chest again, shaking his head, a sardonic smile on his lips. “You have me all figured out.”
“Yes. Yes, I do. So I know you’d do the same in my place and I know that’s why you’re so angry with me. We always get mad when we’re offered a mirror, don’t we?” you pressed, mirroring his bitter smile indeed.
Something flashed in his eyes, voice dropping low. Dangerously low. “I am angry. You have no idea, Spectre.”
Good. Then you had at least something in common.
“Well, so am I. You have no authority to decide when I have enough-“
“As your captain, I actually do-” he interjected, raising his voice again and you just rolled your eyes.
You were insanely grateful for the familiar sensation of slight popping in your ears, the gentle swing of the floor under your feet. You’d be more grateful for it if you didn’t have to stifle a cry, when your body naturally attempted to balance it out and didn’t feel the burn in your abdomen, but you couldn’t always get what you wanted, could you?
Case on a damn point.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, right,” you said, looking straight into your captain’s eyes, sticking your chin out defiantly, saccharine voice of obedience dripping from your lips, heavy with sarcasm. “Well, if you, sir, have anything else to say, say it now, because we’re landing and I’m about to take a shower and sleep for a week. That is if I am allowed. Or do I need to submit an official request?”
You couldn’t tell whether he wanted to shout again or do exactly what you suggested you would do; because suddenly he, too, seemed dead tired, as if your shouting match exhausted him more than the mission or your failure. He stared at you, silent, for a few long moments – a few too many, almost enough to make you feel guilty again for calling him out on his bullshit, enough to make you consider apologizing for that.
Then he sighed. “No, you don’t, Agent. I hope you’ll rest well.”
You blinked, your heart skipping a shocked beat. His voice was surprisingly soft and sincere, his gaze roaming over you head to toe, seemingly concerned.
Did you just break him? Kindness was far from uncommon in him – once you’d calm down, you’d be more inclined to believe that again, you knew as much – but the sudden change genuinely startled you.
“Uhm… thanks,” you muttered, too taken aback to talk back as you walked backwards. He truly looked worn down to a bone, his brain no doubt racing, already figuring out how to fix the mess you had left behind. He looked like he needed a goddamn nap himself. Except you didn’t think he’d take it; that was part of his problem.
Hypocrite.
You swallowed the you too and simply nodded sharply before you walked away, emotions swirling wildly; and at the centre of them all, remorse and puzzlement, wrapped in a familiar sensation of agony.
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Winter Soldier was a moniker Steve Rogers loathed; but the reputation which came with that name was not unearned.
When Bucky appeared behind his shoulder out of nowhere, no sound having been made, Steve nearly jumped out of his skin; and it was a true testament to how upset he was that he hadn’t heard Bucky sneak up on him despite his slightly enhanced senses.
“Well, that went spectacularly,” Bucky hummed, instantly making Steve groan internally.
He did not want to deal with this – he wanted to forget about this whole ordeal. The fact itself that Bucky was cheery about a sleeper Hydra cell simply because he had an opportunity to tease him about what had just gone down only added to his annoyance.
He was tired. He was mad. He was confused. He was disappointed – both in you and himself. He was… frustrated. So frustrated; then again, those emotions and the last one in general were no news in your presence, much like many others, but those in particular he wanted to ponder over even less.
“Bucky, don’t,” he warned his friend lowly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye as they made a slow way out of the jet.
It was a waste of words, really: Steve didn’t know what he was thinking, believing the warning would actually discourage Bucky from speaking.
“You know, maybe if you told her that the main reason why you’re so pissed-“
“Buck-“
“- is the fact that she’s challenging your authority which makes you question yourself, and that you’re terrified every time she gets hurt or loses consciousness, be it her projection or, god forbid, her real body, because you care juuuust a little too much for her, then maybe… “
Steve loved his best friend; but if looks could kill, the one he shot him at the verbalized implications, however truthful, could have murdered him on spot.
“Just saying,” Bucky said, shrugging as he kept up with Steve’s sudden strut, a grin audible in his voice. “Communication is key.”
“You need to stop hanging out with Sam,” Steve grumbled. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Bucky snorted, causing Steve’s head to whip in his direction in annoyance. Didn’t Bucky have a lady to tend to? Why did he have to stick around and poke around Steve’s already exhausted brain and feed the already messy whirlwind of emotion? Oh right. Bucky would say it was payback for all the years Bucky spent saving Steve’s puny ass from the back alleys.
“Right. Just like you had no idea what she was talking about when she called you a hypocrite, because you wouldn’t do the same, try to deliver all the files you could even if it meant you’d bleed the heck out, right? Your real body, that is, because you only have one…”
Goddamnit Bucky.
“Bucky, that’s enough.”
“Nope,” his friend quipped, smiling charmingly at the group of agents they passed in the hallway and briefly, Steve imagined what they had to look like; a brooding Captain practically running away from the sunshine-like Winter Soldier. Clint would call them comedy gold; and Steve didn’t give a damn. Today had been a clusterfuck of disasters with you and him in the centre of it.
“It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. Steve just shot him another glare as they rounded the corner, the corridor now blissfully empty. And sadly, endless with nowhere to hide. “Too bad, punk. You might be the Captain, but you’re still my friend. I’ll be bothering your reckless ass and call you out till the end of the line. And I’m telling you – you two need to get your shit together and make up. And maybe you should finally tell her you’d like to make out. But if I were you, I’d start with that apology.”
Steve stopped so abruptly Bucky nearly collided with him. The flare or anger – because goddammit was Bucky right in certain things and it was truly bothersome to hear those – licked at his gut. As he turned to give his most loyal and precious friend a piece of his mind in return, he found him with a knowing smirk on his face. Why were they friends again?
“Really? An apology?” Steve questioned, the idea absurd even as guilt had already joined the party a while ago. “For what exactly? She should have--- one of those days, she’s gonna-” Steve swallowed against the lump in his throat. He did not like the way the sentence could end. How you could end. But he’d scream at you again before he’d admit that; you brought out that side of him for some reason. You brought out a lot of things, most of them unpleasant. Most of them. “She should have followed orders.”
Bucky’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline – which wasn’t too high given how much he’d let his hair grow, but it still served the purpose of irritating Steve.
“Sure she should. And if you have always followed orders, I’d be dead.”
Steve winced as if he got punched in the gut, all flames of anger put out at once. Bucky just shrugged, unbothered by his hypothetical death.
“That’s a fact, punk. And here’s another: your mother would have boxed your ears for treating a lady the way you just did.”
And this isn’t you, Steve heard the unspoken words and with those he couldn’t argue.
The truth was, Steve didn’t recognize himself around you. He hadn’t more than once but it had never got as intense as it had just now. He felt almost possessed, an astral projection of his own, except he couldn’t control it as it raised its voice like that, in front of the whole team no less. And the worst thing was, it wasn’t a projection; the blame was entirely on him as he failed to contain the onslaught of emotion so sharp and large that he just let it all out. Almost all of it.
The one urge he tried to contain was the one to just slam you to a wall and scream the whole truth before he’d vent his frustration with you in a completely different way, with nips of teeth on that lower lip of yours, always pouting a bit when you got into one of your not so frequent but not so rare arguments, having you scream his name in ecstasy instead of defiance, a breathy whine of Mighty Captain without the snark. He was sure that would have raised a few eyebrows, but hopefully the room would clear in three seconds flat after your back would have hit the wall.
In all honesty, the whole scene had been surreal as it was; Steve had had trouble recognizing you as well. You had disagreed with him a few times, yes, you challenged his authority and questioned his decisions, yes; he had a pretty strong feeling that he was most definitely not your favourite person and more often than not, he didn’t quite understand you – but you had never so blatantly disobeyed an order. You had never endangered a mission or your teammates, never played this much of a Russian roulette, even if one might call you an overachiever which sometimes came with a bit of recklessness by default.
It was true that you could be unpredictable at times; one day you followed instructions to a tee, dutiful, meticulous even; another day, you stood firmly in opposition. One day you dotted on others in almost an overbearing quality, another day it was like you evaporated from the face of Earth, completely absent. But what came over you today, Steve had had no idea – you had been not only reckless, but to a great point, careless. Steve’s mind was blown, but not in the good sense.
That said, he was not pleased with himself either, particularly with the fact was that he had acted impulsively during the mission too. You were definitely right to call him out on it; but that didn’t mean he liked it.
He glanced at Bucky, who was watching him with one corner of his lips still raised knowingly, only fuelling Steve’s ire. Despite all that, Steve knew Bucky was right. And unlike when he was in your presence, he didn’t feel the need to deny that completely.
Sarah Rogers, god rest her precious soul, would have been profoundly disappointed in his behaviour and she would have let him hear it too, despite the infinite kindness and forgiveness she had carried in her heart.
“I know,” Steve sighed. “I shouldn’t have--- she’s just so- I-“
“I know, punk,” Bucky said forgivingly. “I know. That girl has some serious fire in her and she’s not the easiest to deal with, even if she means well, no doubt. Who does that only remind me of…?”
Steve glared at him, unimpressed – he was aware, thank you very much. Not only opposites attracted. Though he was quite certain this attraction was one-sided; and completely insane.
Bucky just grinned and patted Steve’s shoulder.
“Take a nap, Steve. We all deserve one, even if things didn’t go as planned. We’ll get them next time – as a team. Share some of that burden you strap to your shoulders every time to strap on that shield, would you? It can do wonders, believe me.”
“You really do need to stop hanging out with Sam and spend more time with Nat,” Steve uttered, a small smile gracing his lips.
“Shut up, punk, you love me mental health conscious.”
A full grin attacked Steve’s lips now, troubles forgotten momentarily, unlike the fact why Bucky Barnes was his best friend.
“Jury’s out, jerk” 
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Even as you felt the fire of rage slowly dying, you tried to feed it; because it kept you on your feet. You had not in fact went to lie down, even as you felt those feet dragging more than walking to Natasha Romanoff’ office. She didn’t spend too much time in it, always having better things to do than paperwork, but you knew she’d want her report to be done as fast as possible to move on exactly to those more important things.
And you knew that as long as she was there, her office was conveniently the best place to talk, the camera system disabled.
“Well, hello,” the redhead hummed as she had Jarvis let you storm in, breathless for more than one reason.
Your abdomen was throbbing, but you didn’t have time for that. It wasn’t like you were going to bleed out from a non-existent wound.
“We need to go back there and fix it.”
The infamous Black Widow only raised her eyebrow at your dishevelled state and frantic words, leaning back into her chair. You admitted you had to be a sight to the devil himself since you probably looked like hell, but you rarely let that stop you.
“Water under bridge, Spectre. The base is blown so there’s nothing to go back to and the rest of them will go deep under-“
You shook your head, stalking to her desk, leaning onto your hands, fingers spasming at the bite of pain. Bad idea. And bad phrasing.
“No, Natasha, we—” She scanned you head to toe, her other eyebrow arching as well as you had boldly invaded her space, practically asking to be removed. Violently. You didn’t have the energy to lean back, not right away. You weren’t friends, so you had no right to be so close, but she’d get over it, you were sure. The worst thing to happen would be her breaking off your wrist or something. “What I mean is that we have to act now and get those files. All of them.”
Her gaze zeroed on your face, unnervingly searching and seeing, head tilting to side in genuine curiosity.
“What exactly was in those files that it made you hesitate? You rarely ignore orders,” she stated matter-of-factly, causing you to retreat and step back. Oh. Crap. Black Widow in offensive. She walked around the desk, leaning her weight onto it, crossing her arms over her chest. “What did you see, Spectre?”
You gulped; there was no way around it, even as panic made your breathing even harder. There were so many things wrong with what you were about to say and you had no capacity to analyse why you felt the way you felt about it, let alone why you felt even worse about the fact you were the reason why you hadn’t got the intel to others.
“Steve’s initials.”
Even as her brows had smoothened, they arched again now, eyes growing wide. You swallowed against the lump in your throat.
“I tried to copy it and just opened it for a bit, too immersed to notice the unfriendly. Naturally, I got the bullet for my trouble before I neutralized him, but that’s beside the point,” you said, not missing the corner of her lips twitching. “They were… Natasha, they weren’t just some photos or whatever. Those were… they were inventing some shit. It was physics, chemistry, half of the things I didn’t understand, but I don’t think they were replicating the serum – I think they were trying to neutralize it, neutralize Steve specifically.”
And there was no way I was going to leave that there, was left unspoken, but she heard it. Of course she did; this was Natasha Romanoff you were talking to. She didn’t need you two to be friends to read between the lines of what you were saying.
“I see,” she said slowly, the damn intensity of her gaze not relenting. “And you didn’t tell Steve that when he was yelling you down, because…?”
“It was irrelevant.”
“Bullshit.”
“He wouldn’t believe me.”
She scoffed, glaring you down. “That’s bullshit too and you know it.”
Okay, that was fair. But believing was a lot different from taking action. His damn pride would have still had him snapping you back to your real body even if you had yelled at him through the comms what kind of intel you had been carrying on the drive before he messed it up for you – and him. What the heck had he been thinking, breaking your concentration like that? The utter confusion at his actions – because surely it couldn’t have been he had been so angry with you to endanger the mission – only made the matter of your fight worse.
Natasha was right, however – that was just water under bridge. You sure as hell weren’t about to go ask him what possessed him to be more insufferable than normal and you could hardly fly to the pile of debris you had left behind when the place blew up to search for scraps of hard drives.
“Fine. I didn’t think he’d take it seriously,” you admitted at last.
“Now we’re talking,” Natasha said, nodding, a small smirk appearing on her lips, making you frown.
She sure was taking it in stride all of sudden, almost as if--- was she amused? You hoped that was only a mask and in her sharp mind, she was already building a battleplan. She had to. She was one of Steve’s closest friends, real friends, you knew as much. Sometimes her nonchalance truly irritated you. Would it kill her to show more emotion?
Hypocrite.
“But that’s not enough,” she added. “Steve, bless his heart, can be an ass, but not a complete idiot. Any other particular reason why you’d keep it from him?”
Your face was a mask of neutrality. Or you hoped so.
“Nope.”
Natasha watched you sceptically and you swallowed against the lump in your throat.
Naturally, there was a plethora of reasons and on top of them sat the fact that he’d know. He’d know how much you cared. He probably figured out anyway and maybe he wasn’t one to make fun of you for that – scratch that, he definitely wasn’t, he was too much of a good guy for that – but that meant nothing. Caring for people was dangerous; caring for people when you failed meant they’d be taken away. Having people to care for – good people – was a privilege, a reward, one that could easily be confiscated unless you reached perfection.
And yes. You knew Steve Rogers was a good guy, even when he decided to yell at you in front of everyone and challenged you and made you want to smash him against the wall and bite into his stupid plump lower lip and then cuddle him and tell him he didn’t have to be so strong and that people cared about his safety too. Of course you knew he felt pain, but he just never showed it, and it was just so damn irritating, because you needed him to be only human too, so you wouldn’t feel so pathetic despite your powers, so you’d feel a little more worthy. You were well-aware that your way of thinking wasn’t healthy, especially since Steve was a person you could never and should never compare yourself to because that standard was just impossibly high, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try to meet it. That didn’t mean your family hadn’t set the standards just as high. Perfection was not an unreachable standard, even as it always seemed to be out of reach for you.
However, knowing that precisely that was one of the main reasons why you admired Steve as much as you wanted to punch him to his perfect teeth didn’t help you coexist with him or stopped you from acting like a five-year-old in his vicinity.
On top of that, you were fully aware of how disappointed he would be in you for failing in one particular task which you were sure he considered the most important one: to have your teammates’ six. And you wouldn’t handle that; you were selfish even to that point. To have Captain Rogers learn you hadn’t been strong and fast enough to retrieve data which increased the chance of keeping a key member of your team safe and watch his reaction up close would break your damn barely patched up heart.
Natasha continued to watch you as you zoned out, her smirk growing. “Right. No other reason at all then.”
Oh, she knew about it all, alright. You had no doubt. She might not show much emotion, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t mastered reading other people’s tells. If you had any emotional capacity left, you’d be ashamed at how your face burned under her watchful gaze.
“Will you please tell the others about the files?” you asked instead, causing her to tilt her head to side a fraction again.
“I will, but why should I? Why, when you can be the one to do it? If nothing else, you should tell Steve,” she said, almost motherly you supposed – not that you’d know. “Those were files about him – he deserves the truth and to hear it from you. I’m sure he’d be less angry with you too.”
Somehow, her last suggestion was even more terrifying than Steve Rogers being all in your face and snarling. You attempted a smile, masking the anxiety curling in your gut by exhaustion.
“Maybe. I just… it might be childish, but I don’t… I don’t have the energy for that now. Tell me what else I can do and I will, but not that.”
She watched you silently for several long moments, a small smile curling up her lips – almost a compassionate one. What was it with people and their damn compassion today? You had fucked up. Why was Steve the only one to acknowledge that and why was he relatively nice about it in the end, just like Natasha now? Frankly, as much as you preferred not being completely on Black Widow’s bad side, earning her pity was exponentially worse.
“You know, most things are not going to go away just because you pretend that they don’t exist. Least of all feelings.”
It’s been working out pretty well for you, you wanted to throw back, but Bucky Barnes, the love and the lover who was one of the few people who could slip under the hard shell of Natasha Romanoff, would probably argue with you that it worked for her the best when she did let someone in. But unlike you, Natasha Romanoff did not make mistakes and was an epitome of perfection herself so she could afford that. Natasha Romanoff was terrifying; you’d like to watch someone try to mess with her.
You, on the other hand, were no Black Widow. You could and even had to keep pretending in order to exist.
“Just watch me.”
She sighed, letting her hands fall to her sides. “Go to bed, Spectre. I know you still feel that gunshot wound.”
You froze.
Your heart skipped a beat – several beats, you were sure – because your chest suddenly hurt, panic clawing up your throat anew.
She knew. She knew.
How did she--- how? You always fought so hard to hide it, as much as of a pain that was; horrible pun included.
Yes, you sure as hell still felt the gunshot wound. With every move. With every breath. Every time you had strained your muscles to yell back at Steve.
The pain of whatever injury your spectre sustained alwayslingered. Ironically, it was only thing you actually were able to carry when you snapped back. It stayed with you for a while; not the whole time that it would take for the wound to heal, but it still took days sometimes, days of pain whose intensity slowly faded away. An invisible aching wound – like a pain in a phantom limb. There was no evidence of an injury in your body, but your brain still registered it. No therapeutic approach had worked when you finally accepted that despite what you had been taught, this wasn’t normal; only for having to accept that with no solution in sight, it actually was normal. Then again, what was normal when you only had one sample to examine?
“You mostly hide it well, don’t worry,” Natasha’s voice snapped you from your dark thoughts, uncharacteristically soft. “Your secret is safe with me. But that doesn’t mean it should.”
“It definitely should,” you said in at instant, eyes hard despite the tell-tale burn of tears you felt. If anyone knew – anyone else, that was, apparently – you’d be done. Benched forever.
I do feel pain and I don’t have the luxury to switch it off when I snap back into my real body, Steve had thrown at you. If he hadn’t noticed, you were good; you had indeed hid it well enough and that was all that mattered; despite bickering and yelling, he was still willing to work with you. But that would change very quickly; and he had the authority to kick you out of this team and this business completely.
Sure, Natasha had the power to bench you and even fire you as well, but judging by the way she was looking at you now, no matter how disapprovingly and somewhat proud at once, she wouldn’t. It would be okay – as long as she’d keep her mouth shut about it just as Andy had. Andrew Garner, the only person who had known your painful secret and encouraged you to engage with various therapy approaches to rid you off your burden. He had taken the secret to the grave, never having told nor Coulson, nor the rest of his team.
The one person who had known about this was dead; and if that wasn’t a clear enough message that no one else was supposed be trusted with this, you didn’t know what else would.
“It should,” you repeated, inhaling and instantly regretting it. You swallowed as Natasha didn’t miss the tiny hitch in your breath. Dammit you needed to get better at hiding it. And you would. “Please. Tell me what else I can do.”
Perhaps it was your true superpower to make people sigh, not to project into another room, because the redhead observed you for another long moment before sighing again.
“I meant it, Spectre – go to bed. After I’ll tell the others, we might need you. Rested. With as much as you can give.”
One corner of your lips rose in a tired defiant smirk. “I can give everything.”
The look Natasha gave you before you spun on your heels told you that precisely that was both the blessing and the problem. But you didn’t need to be told more than twice to go to bed.
As you walked out, trying your hardest to walk completely straight and not hunch over even a bit, you heard Natasha’s completely exhausted sigh.
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Next chapter
Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist
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Alright folks, life's been quite busy so this was born through sweat and tears and I don't think it will get better any time soon, but hopefully the result will be worth it 🥰
There are and will be a few distant references to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. I think you should be fine whout having watched the show.
Thank you for reading 🥰 As always, if you have he time and energy, I'd greatly appreciate your reblogs and feedback, be it even a key smash or yelling at me should the need arise 🤭
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skullywullypully · 9 months
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Y/N with super inhuman strength
Miguel: Do I even weigh anything to you? Y/N: No; it's like holding a couple of grapes.
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mediocreanomaly · 10 months
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DILF!Knives doesn't need sleep. but with a small army of kids, he begrudgingly at first takes downtime which turns into an annual thing. just imagine; him buried for the most part by them all in a 'family syncing' session, all of them lazing like a particularly eccentric tomcat and his kittens 🥺 his marks glow vividly, as do the ones on his biological kids that have them, any adopted little ones already fast asleep from his soothing purrs. yes, purrs.
if you aren't a Plant, you won't be able to pick up on it, but they are communicating on a deep level 🥺 if you bring up the warm smile he makes and his tender gaze, he'd vehemently deny he actually enjoys these sessions, it's adorable 🥺
HELLO??? ARE WE TELEPATHICALLY BONDED BECAUSE I WAS JUST WRITTING "Vash and Knives Purr" PROPAGANDA
I love reminding people the twins aren't human, Knives especially since he leans more into his Plant nature. but yes! I think with his gaggle of children despite his icy exterior they'd be able to understand him alot better due to their plant genes. People often find Knives brooding or staring off thinking he's pissed off or upset when one of his children happily run up to wrap themselves around his leg. Because what do you mean you think my father is upset? He's obviously very happy today can't you feel that energy? you can't? oh.
As for the sleeping I think Knives does actually enjoy sleeping but mostly because (and hold onto your hats for this one) he has plant nesting instincts. He has this huge plush bed that can hold you him all his children and then some in it. He has a bunch of soft pillows and blankets (all white because he refuses to be seen looking like a circus threw up on him) and has them placed for optimal comfort. Just...don't bring up the fact he's nesting. Despite him not caring about his Plant instincts if you use any cute words for them he will deny and deny hard.
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I liked the Sebastian nest thing, could you write a version of Claude in heat? Since he's a spider it would be weird.
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Aight!!
Spiders make silk ‘beds’ to hold their eggs (and mate over typically as it’s saferish than regular webs since only the ones who knit it know which webs are sticky/dangerous to step on)
Spiders (males) will bring fresh food to the female they want to court and might even give them a massage to discourage the female from eating them
(Another observed behavior is males going down on females repeatedly)
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Claude (preheat behavior, monster/inhuman behavior, inappropriate amount of webs (arachnophobes beware ((I AM ONE-)))
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You knew sometimes you wake up to weird things, but you weren’t expecting to wake to to see a layer of well woven webs covering the entirety of your room. It made your skin crawl at the thought of touching it. You got up, freezing upon realizing even your bedsheets were covered in something, though it appeared to be more silk like than web like.
You threw your bedsheets aside and stood up on your bed. “Claude! Hannah!” You shout, genuinely frustrated at this. Hannah was the first to show up, covering her face as soon as she saw the webs everywhere. You could hear a light laugh escape her. “I’d this funny to you?” You shake you head, staring her down.
“Oh, absolutely not. Here, I’ll help you get past them.” She carefully stepped over a few webs, stepping on what appeared to be thicker web, walking across it with ease. You hesitantly moved to step off the bed only to be picked up. “Sorry, but we can’t let you get stuck to the webs.” Hannah Carries you outside the room.
Your relived to be placed down, when you look back you notice the webs stop just at the doorway to your room. “Gross, get rid of the webs.” You huff out. Hannah places you down, letting you take a few steps ahead of her. “Please get me some clothes to change into as well-“
“We aren’t getting rid of the webs.”
You hear Claude hiss out. You glared at him. “And why is that? Why the hell do you think I’d let WEBS stay in my ROOOM??” You nearly shout at him. Hannah quickly steps aside, heading to get you a change of clothes.
Claude shook his head. “Are the webs hurting you? No. Leave them alone, besides, we need soft bedding for the eggs you’ll lay.” You give Claude a confused/disgusted face.
“I’m not going to lay eggs? What the hell are you talking about?” You slap his hip. “What is going on in your head to make you think I’m going to lay any eggs?”
Claude huffed. “We can deal with it later.” He walked to your side, wrapping an arm around you. He leaned down nuzzling the side of your face. “I’d rather not argue with you now.” He kisses the shell of your ear, sighing into your ear. “Let me get you something to eat, can’t have you hungry.”
He gently picks you up and carry’s you to the dining room, to your surprise, there’s a feast layed out before you. “Claude. It’s 9 A.M., why is there so much food I thought demons don’t eat-“
“Yes demons don’t eat food.” He interrupted. “But it’ll be hard for you to bear our young if you aren’t well fed.” You shake your head, lowering your head into your arms.
“Claude how sense are you? I’m not going to have kids!” He seemed taken aback by your domineer. You took a deep breath and faced away from him. “Do you think we are going to fuck here and now then have a kid by tomorrow? You know it takes nine months for humans to give birth right?”
He freezes at that. “You wouldn’t have one child, there’d be dozens, and besides, a demon human hybrid would take less time to incubate, I’ll help you with laying the eggs, don’t worry-“
“Claude do I need to slap you to make you listen to me? Humans don’t lay eggs, humans need nine months before birth for more than just the development of the child-why do you suddenly want a kid anyway???”
He shuffled in place. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I want a child with you?” He winked at you, a smile spreading across his face.
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valentine-cafe · 5 months
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. ˚◞♡ 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒎 — copper resentment ( zhao talisen 164 )◞ ₊˚
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍵 ꒱ tw: dark content, possessive behaviour, yandere behaviour, hair-yanking, forced kissing (?)
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“so,” a tall, slender figure leans back on tanned arms. the never-setting sun cast upon copper and pearl jewellery alike — reflecting on the water where long, silk robes float.
“my darling thought it was a good idea to try and escape. . . well, if you could call that pitiful attempt an escape, that is.” copper eyes find yours as the calamity tilts his head back from the glimmering sun — the dusky backlight setting a shadow upon his serene face. the calm before the storm.
with but a swipe of his finger, your body is tugged across the shore and through the waters. it all happened so fast, barely enough to allow for any reaction other than a yelp from you. all you felt was a large cold hand snatching your wrist and holding your form that fell forward — forearms on his lap.
a look of ice is upon talisen's face, and yet it somehow still seems serene. as he leans forward your legs submerged in the water feel a stir and you bite back a whimper. eyes locking, breaths bating, you await the catastrophe.
yet all that comes is a tender stroke to the side of your face and a soft kiss. one that has you quivering yet melting into your calamity lover.
gentle, like a light breeze through a calm stream.
perhaps you overreacted.
perhaps. . .
a sharp pain etches your scalp when strong fingers abruptly snatch your hair. your head is pushed closer and is forcefully tilted so that he kisses your lips with a newfound hunger. a certain control. a claim — reminder, that you are his.
talisen gives a squeeze to your wrists yet not a single care to your whimpers once his tongue pushes into your mouth and he wretches your head closer.
"mine," is all he glowers.
after minutes of heated, possessive kissing — the copper calamity parts, yet snatches your jaw instead. his tight grip holds your face, delicate fingers squishing into your cheeks as he remains but a breath away from you. slitted pupils pouring a thousand promises and threats into your glossing eyes.
“if you ever pull that stunt again. . .” his” his voice lulls, enchanting as ever yet with a venomous undertone nonetheless. like a poisonous honey as his thumb rubs at your cheek.
“I will simply have to take worse measures. and we wouldn't want that. would we, baobei?”
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