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#mutant!reader
feyhunter78 · 1 year
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Healer's Flight
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Description: Your would-be assassin picked the wrong beach to ambush you on.
Reader is an immortal mutant with healing powers.
It’s a beautiful beach, one with pristine sands, and cool breezes, the scent of sea salt on the air, and clear waters reflecting the stars that dotted the night sky. You loved this beach, held its location safe within your chest, nestled beside your heart.
Loved, past tense, because now you were afraid, feet digging into the sand as you ran, heart pounding against your chest like a war drum. You veered towards the water, one foot landing in the surf, your heart taking flight, but then he caught you, yanking you back by your hair.
“I said, stop fucking running.” He growled, his grip on your hair tight, pulling at your scalp, as his arms wrapped around you.
“Let me go, you Nazi bitch.” You fought against him, trying to break free of his hold, but it was useless. This wasn’t a normal low-level assassin, this was an enhanced.
His grip tightened on you, squeezing like a vice grip, and you felt your lungs began to stutter, unable to draw in oxygen.
Tears began to roll down your face, dripping onto his bare arm.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.” He cooed mockingly.
“You’re a monster.” You choked out, nails clawing at his skin.
“Me? I’m not the mutant freak. I’m doing the world a favor by getting rid of you.”
You weren’t a threat to humans, you were a healer, all you did was lie low and try to help those who needed it. That’s all you had been doing for five hundred years.
“K’uk’ulkan.” You whimpered out, as your vision began to fade, hoping the gods would take mercy on you, and allow you a final vision of him before you died.
“Kool-la-what? Are you casting a spell on me, witch?” The assassin snarled, releasing his grip ever so slightly.
Your hand was free, and you gripped his arm, focusing on the spot where your skin connected.
He swore and dropped you, holding his arm close to his chest. There in the shape of your hand was decaying flesh, black and rotted.
You struggled to your knees, desperately sucking in air as your lungs seized. “Yes, I am.”
You weren’t, but he didn’t need to know that.
The assassin lunged at you, and you threw your body to the side, landing in the surf, hands glowing a bright gold.
You pushed the hair out of your face, tense and waiting for his next move, when you heard something whiz by you, then a solid thud. You looked up to see the assassin lying on his back, a spear imbedded in his chest.
Large warm hands pulled you to your feet. “In yakunaj, are you hurt?”
K’uk’ulkan’s low voice was a balm to your panicked mind, and your fingers found purchase in the bejeweled collar he wore, as you collapsed against him.
He scooped you up and brought you further onto the beach, settling on the sand with you in his lap. His hands smoothed back your wet hair, his eyes searching your face.
“I—my throat.” You coughed out, motioning to the mottled bruising that you were sure was already starting to appear.
He gently tilted your head up and hummed in displeasure. “He dared to put his hands upon you? I will throw his body to the sharks; I swear to you in reina.”
“They will fade, do not fret, my love.” You soothed, leaning into his touch.
K’uk’ulkan’s presence made you feel safe, as if no harm could befall you while he remained at your side.
“You are done with the surface world, they do not deserve you, and this has proved it.” He said firmly, his eyes narrowed at the corpse behind you.
“But there are people that need me.” You protested weakly, lightly running your fingers across your throat, speeding up your already enhanced healing ability.
He cupped your face, his warm brown eyes like amber flecked with gold, filled with sorrow. “They do not need you more than I do in yakunaj. I do not know what I would do if you were taken from me.”
You melted under his gaze, the fight draining from your body, leaving only exhaustion in its place. “But who am I if not a healer?”
“You will still be a healer, my people injure themselves often, they are like children, stumbling over every loose stone in their path.” He gave you a weary smile along with his promise.
You smiled back at him, carding your fingers through his thick hair. “That is not true, your people are fearsome warriors.”
K’uk’ulkan rested his forehead against yours. “What can I do to make you come home, and to stay? What must I give you to have my queen by my side?”
Your eyes fluttered closed as you basked in his warmth. It had been four hundred years of this, back and forth, stay or go, rule, or heal. You loved K’uk’ulkan more than anyone, anything, but you’d never been able to pry yourself from the grip of the surface world.
“You cannot buy my heart, you already have it.” You said, taking one of his hands and pressing it to your heart.
“But I do not. It sits in the hands of the surface dwellers, who crush it into a fine powder day after day, while I am helpless to watch.” His fingers curled, finding purchase in the fabric of your shirt, a desperate, pleading grasp.
“K’uk’ulkan…” You breathed, heartbreaking at the anguish in his voice.
“Y/N, you must return with me, if only so that I do not die of worry.” He pulled away and motioned to the corpse. “Look at what has happened, what if I had not been here—in yakunaj, you could have died.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. You were terrified, closer to death than you’d been in a long time. Maybe he was right, you could go with him, take care of his people, then return to the surface in a century or two and check on them.
“I will do it.” You said, closing your eyes, so he couldn’t see the tears of guilt welling up in them. How could you do this? Abandon all those who needed your help?
His thumbs wiped away the stray tears, and he brushed his lips across your forehead. “You will be happy there in reina, have faith in me.”
You looked up at him, bottom lip trembling. “I do, but…”
He shook his head. “No, but, do not let your mind run rampant as it tends to do. You owe the surface world nothing.” His voice was steady, as he leaned down and captured your lips, the warmth of him soothing your worries, and making your head pleasantly fuzzy.
You looped your arms around his neck, head tilting to the side, to deepen the kiss. He tasted of coconut and sea salt, his skilled tongue stroking yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine.
He kept you pressed against him as he stood, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked into the surf, intent on keeping you safe forever.
Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @starlady66
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Old Skool #2
Summary: steve introduces bucky to a girl he’s sure they’ll both like
Warnings: dark themes, non-con/dub-con elements, mentions of drug use, reader deals/struggles with mental health, dealings with trauma, single parenthood, single mother reader (has a genius 4 year old), slow burn (kinda), blackmail, stockholm syndrome, angst, more tags to be added…
(2) Tell Me Something I Don’t Know
“Bucky?” the concern could be heard for miles, the sharp clap of a car door meeting its seal. You look to your left, surprised to see Steve looking around the damaged vehicle.
“In here,” you shudder at the feel of eyes on you. You force yourself to brush it off as you walk away from the sergeant. “Uh, hi Steve.” you naw on your bottom lip, anxiously teetering on your toes as you meet him just past the garage opening.
His blue eyes soften as he looks at you, pale cheeks reddening in embarrassment. The earlier anger you saw when he walked up shocked you, reminding you of the last class. His going to say something, but the other man speaks. “Thanks for answering my text, glad to know you’d still pick me up.”
The ire in James tone has you turning. You look between the two super soldiers. The tension palpable between the two. “We’re not doing this here,” The whisper spoken so personally, it felt like you were intruding.
“Mommy?” You face is pinched as you turn to your daughter. She’s eyeing you skeptically, and you honestly return a look of confusion. You’re by her side within a moment, shaken that there were witnesses to your swiftness.
“Hey baby, I need you to go to your room, go get your blueberry. wait for me.” The secret was conveyed perfectly. You watch her, you pay close attention to her eyes.
You kiss her on the top of her head. The tiny hairs on your back raise sharply. It’s too quiet as you watch her disappear down the hall, but you know they’re there, watching.
When you turn to face them your muscles are taught. You vision sharpens as you pay close attention to them both. “I’m not going to pretend like this was some accident,” You roll your shoulders, “So what do you want?”
“Y/n,” Steve starts, eyes startled, alarmed in a way that makes you watch him closer. His hands are held up placatingly, your eyes dart to James. He’s taught himself. “Please calm down, we just want to talk-“
“Get to the point Steve,” your tone is harsher than you wanted it to be, evident at his stricken expression. The silence is tense, you’re hearing sharp, listening out for your kid.
“It’s really not what you think doll,” The stoic soldier speaks up, his voice raspy from its momentary absence. You narrow your leer at him taking in his entirety. He looms in front of your tool shelf. The blue of his eyes are conflicting, dark and yet dangerously inviting. There was a hunger in his stance, like a predator stalking its prey… further unnerving you.
“Bucky, stand down.” Steve pleads softly. “I don’t want you to scare her, she’s-“ He cuts himself off. A grimace on his face as he looks back at you, ashamed, bashful. “Just stand down-“
“You gonna stop me Stevie?” Bucky’s tone was further unsettling now. Joyful and murderous. A creak in the floorboards throws you into over drive.
You’re behind the door connecting your house and garage in a moment, locking the door and shifting alarmingly fast to your daughter. As the door kicks in your already in your room, slinging your duffle along your body as you cling tightly to Nineve.
“Mom-“ she whimpers but you shake your head hard, silencing her fears. She’s burying her face in your shoulder as you silently slip through the window, closing it behind you with delicate diligence.
Your senses feel like live wire, your body electrified as you speed around the back of the house as you hear the two super soldiers argue and cause a rampage through your small quaint home.
“Buck stop!” Steve sharply reprimands. “She’s not supposed to be like the others, she’s different.”
A dark chuckle shakes the frames of the house as you sneaky into your car. “Then why’d you wait so long to introduce us, mhm punk?” There’s a pregnant pause. “You know I don’t like you holding out on me. Otherwise, I’ll start looking for myself,”
“They’ll kill you if you did. If they found out-“
“You’re gonna tell them?” Another pregnant pause, “Because if you do, you have to tell them what you did too.” Two heavy steps forward.
You clutch Nineve and quickly cover her mouth before she begins to cry. Just a moment baby, Please, you beg with your eyes as you listen to the bickering men.
“You know I wouldn’t do that, but Buck,” There’s further commotion, more rampage. “Buck-“
“Where the fuck is she?” James angrily snarls, “Come out doll.” He taunts.
“Bucky,” Steve hisses sharply. A few powerful thuds and bangs makes Nineve shake violently. Your hand is drenched in tears. Your heart begins to race but you stifle your breathing, calming your self. You’re sympathetic to her senses, but you can’t chance them catching you too soon.
The air becomes densely silent. You turn the key and shift gears, pulling out the garage in seconds. As you’re in the street, shifting gears and pulling off you see the both of them charge after you. Scrambling over themselves to get in their car.
But the head start was all you need. You’re whipping through traffic unnaturally fast as you make your way to the interstate.
Nineve clambers out of your hold, crying and screaming. “What was that?! Momma what was that! Why were they here?”
“Nonny please, stop screaming-“
“Mommy!” She squeals.
“Nineve stop yelling at me.” You reprimand sharply. Her cries quiet immediately. She hiccups and wraps her arms around herself. “I’m sorry.” you immediately apologize.
She’s quieter than normal. “I know that was scary. And I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry you had to hear that.” You let out a shaky breath. “And… and I’m sorry for snapping at you. I shouldn’t have, but I needed you to stop screaming.”
Nineve hiccups, but scoots into your side, clicking the seatbelt over her small lap. She snuggles closer as she wipes her tears. “I’m scared too. And the last thing I need are the bad men coming after us and the superhero’s getting involved.”
“B-but mommy,” She asks, voice shaky with tears. “I was scared of the superhero’s.” her small hands squeeze your side as she tries to hide beside you.
You rest a trembling hand on top of her head, doing your best to sooth her as you turn sharply off the interstate into the forest line. Honking horns and screeching tires the least of your worries. “I know baby, me too.”
When Nineve wakes up, you stop for gas in some fairway station, in the middle of somewhere Minnesota. She rubs her puffy eyes, taking in her surroundings. The area ear achingly silent as you turn off the vehicle. “Where are we mommy?”
“Minnesota, somewhere.” You tell her unsure. You reach to the glove box and grab the envelope. You thumb out enough money to fill the tank. You get out with the key, locking the door as you walk around your car to the pump.
You tense as you pump the gas, looking over your shoulder repeatedly, alert and ready to make a mad dash.
How has life managed to catch up with you so suddenly? You know you can’t keep running forever, but super soldiers? How did they even find out?
Your heart drops to your stomach. It was right in front of you. Steve was in your class, and despite your disregard of titles and accolades, you should’ve been more aware of the circumstances. But still, you felt blindsided. Why? Why target you? And why come after you now? And why was he so unsuspecting at first?
Your thoughts are interrupted but the shift in the silence. It’s impossible for them to have found you, or even caught up to you. Quickly you shake the nozzle and put it away. You close the gas tank opening and hurry to climb into your car. Nineve is dozing again, she’s tightly clutching her stuffed charmander. No doubt her mind is replaying the recent events. Softly your reach out to her as you pull off sharply. “Nonny,” you murmur, you shake her lightly to wake her.
“Yes mommy?” she whispers and rubs her eyes. “Your dreams, they’re scary aren’t they?” you ask carefully.
“Yes.” She says with a weep. You slow the car down to a crawl before turning off into the woods again. You stop when you’re far away enough from the road. You turn to Nineve in the dark of the early morning.
“Listen closely Nineve.” You tell her softly, “I won’t ever let the bad men get to you ever again.” She weeps more and you pull her close, holding her in your arms and cradling her. “I promise, I’ll keep you safe. We’ll never go back to the bad place ever again. Never, ever again.”
“But mommy-“
“No one is ever taking us again. I’ll keep you safe.”
“We should be close.”
“She could be anywhere,” The voices alert you, they’re dangerously close. You look down at Nineve, carefully laying her on the floor of the car. You cover her with the blanket you keep in the back, hiding her and keeping her warm from the chill outside.
You make a rash decision. Locking the car manually so not to alert them of your location. You listen to their feet crunching on the twigs and fallen leaves. Easily sneaking up behind them, watching them and listening from afar.
“You shouldn’t have gone to her house.” Steve grumbles. James scoffs. “I wanted to see her for myself. You got to see her, it was my turn.”
“You were going to grab her. The fuck is wrong with you Buck?”
James stood and turns to look at Steve. He gets in his face, “You know as good as me what it’s like now. How far removed we are from the world around us. And how the horrors we face have gotten to us,” James is sneering now, “Don’t you go cursing at me, you think you’re better than me? Huh? You think because they all trusted you and your heroism that that makes you better than me Steve?”
“I didn’t mean it like that Bucky.” Steve acquiesces. James takes a pause, “I’m the only one who actually knows you Steve Rogers.”
You shudder at the intensity in which they stand. James words eerie as he speaks them with a chill. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
You step back, unaware of your steps. The crunch of leaves and twigs makes them sharply turn. James cheshire grin makes your cheeks got hot, Steve’s blue eyes fill with relief.
James is the first to move, but Steve is close on your heels. “Don’t come any closer.” you step back two feet for the several steps they took.
“I’m sorry we scared you doll, that was my mistake-“
“Save it.” You defensively snap. “Who sent you?” You ask them sharply, gaze shifting between them rapidly. They pause. Confusion as clear as day on their faces.
You’re stunned. Their reactions weren’t at all what you were expecting. “We came here on our own,” Steve speaks up. “I’m sorry, I should’ve went about this a completely different way.” Steve begins to plead, James rolls his eyes.
“Just spit it out Steve.” James agonizingly encourages. “Spare her the bullshit, clearly she can handle it. Right sweet face?”
You give him a pinched look, but nod anyway. His grins darkens. Steve stalls, eyes remorseful. “I- I don’t even know where to be-“
“We’ve been watching you doll.” James says proudly. “Stalking you is the right word. Stevie here has a stuffy for you,” He dramatically stops and leers suggestively, eyeing you up and down, up and down, patiently slow. “And I have to say, I have one for you too. You look great after the kid.” He winks.
You feel raw, unprepared for this kind of confession, you’re completely at a loss of words. Suddenly exposed in a completely light. This couldn’t really be happening.
“No fucking way.” You utter and drop your defensive stance. “You show up to my home, unannounced, ready to what?-“ You look at them incredulously, “Kidnap me?! Terrify the fuck out of my child, because you want to get your dicks wet?”
James chuckles, Steve at least has the decency to look ashamed. James clears his throat, “You’re a smart girl. You’re right Steve,” he hums, “I like her.”
“You’re not serious.” Your blood boils beneath your skin. You feel the heat rise off you rapidly. “No no, you can’t be serious” You repeat sinisterly.
“Y/n,” Steve says your name softly. You level him with a dark glare, your vision tunnels, a red ring firing behind your irises. “Y/n,” He says your name softly again, “Where’s your daughter?”
The questions puts out your flame of fury immediately. Again displaying your hidden strengths your to her within the blink of an eye. She’s waiting patiently as you walk up to the door. You unlock the door and smile at her. She smiles back. “I knew you would come back.”
“Of course I would.” You reassure her. You run your finger over her cheek, catching a stray tear. “Mommy, you were really angry just now?” She asks slowly.
You look over your shoulder, “Yes, I was.” You look back to her, “I need you to get back down okay, stay there until I come back to get you.”
“Are we safe mommy?” She asks worriedly. You nod quickly. “We are, we’re just being followed by idiots” You admonish the two genetically manipulated men. “I’ll be back.”
And surely within the moment, you stop them mid trek in your direction. “Shit doll, don’t scare us like that.” James laughs lightheartedly.
“Is she okay?” Steve asks gently, blue eyes searching your dark ones. He’s intent in trying to gauge your reaction. “She’s fine, she’s safe.” You assure him.
“I’m sorry for scaring you both.” He apologizes. “I- I’m just sorry.”
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” You tell him softly. You look between him and James. The later standing against the trunk of a tree, amusement in his eyes.
“Who are you running from if you don’t mind me asking sweet face.” James asks with a dark grin. He stands straight and walks carefully to you. You allow him to get close, and he towers over you. “Why? Don’t you know?”
“Humor me.” He challenges playfully, the mirth in his eyes contrasting the danger rolling off his shoulders. “Buck.”
“Cmon Stevie, she’s a big strong girl.” James is captivating as he speaks, but you don’t miss the way Steve comes around you, the both of them sandwiching you. You shudder, becoming overwhelmed with them so close. “Right doll?” James eyes become so soft, melting you on the spot.
You nod slowly, finally finding your words when he repeats his question. Completely hypnotized by his gaze, you don’t shy away when Steve presses himself to your back, hands firm on your arms. “Tell us babydoll.” Steve murmurs against you, lips at the top of your head.
“Ethos.”
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eloisegrant · 2 years
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Mission: Find Spector
Steven Grant x F!Reader (platonic for now); mentions of Marc Spector, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson
Summary: Avenger!Reader needs to locate a recent enigma during an incident in Cairo, Marc Spector. Unfortunately, he keeps calling himself Steven Grant.
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, drugs, trauma etc.
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You were part of Hydra since you were 11 years old. They tested on you, tried to understand you, trained you and provided shelter for you. They got close enough by letting you concentrate your powers but, the full potential… Yeah, not even close.
Growing up with powers has made childhood terrible for you. Even your own parents casted you out and called you a freak. Unfortunately , joining Hydra was the easiest way to use your atomkinesis capabilities for some sort of higher purpose. Although in hindsight, higher purpose was never always good.
But of course, when you came face to face with the Maximoff twins who turned to the side of SHIELD and the Avengers, something inside you triggered. Something inside you wanted to be better. To do better. Since the incident at Sokovia, you left Hydra and went undercover as a vigilante fighting your own battles, as well as saving people you thought needed it by following orders or leads. Pretty much a hitman but for people who deserve the boot.
After the Blip, you had met Captain Wilson and Sergeant Bucky at Madripoor, after meeting up with some clients. Chasing after them, noting that these familiar faces were part of the Avengers and you would love to join them. After seeing Tony Stark and the rest of the Avengers sacrifice their lives for the world, you gained more respect. The need to use your powers for good intensified.
“Sorry, remind me how you got your powers again?” Captain Wilson was baffled at your admission, from your past, your powers, all the way to your vigilante activities.
“I was born with it.”
“Born with it?” Bucky inquires.
“Yes.”
The two men stared back at disbelief. They had never met a mutant, only heard tales of people born with remarkable, godlike and inhumane powers. Mutant. Type of term like that was degrading and maybe that was the reason most of your kind hid behind a mask.
But they warmed up to you and eventually took you under their wing. They needed more people like you. Filled with hope and the need to help others. Your powers were just a plus, and they promised they’d help you understand the extent of it.
Its been 8 months since then, the three of you have formed an irrefutable bond. You even helped them fix up the Headquarters since you’ve earned more than enough money through your hidden work and Madripoor acts.
So as you entered the newly renovated Avengers Headquarters by the outskirts of New York, it felt like an acid trip. The airy and modern atmosphere was just enough to look homey and professional, all at once. As your heels clicked and clacked through the marble flooring, Captain Wilson calls out to you by the kitchen.
“Agent Snowflake, c’mere.” Sam jokingly calls you snowflake because of that one time you cried while playing monopoly. They cheated that night, no one fucking wins monopoly. You thought to yourself.
“Its- I’m not a damn snowflake, Sam.” You walked near to him as you roll your eyes. He hands you a smoothie and chuckles at your reaction.
“It’s Captain Wilson to you.” He pesters again, causing you to huff out. Immediately, he swipes a holographic screen right in front of you as you sat on the kitchen table.
You took a sip of the smoothie as Sam plops down next to you. It was an image of a man, who appears to be a soldier. Dark brooding eyes, dark locks and a stern expression. Handsome, sure. No idea why he was being shown to you, though. “What exactly am I looking at?” You shrug your shoulder while giving Sam the side eye.
“American Intelligence, Marc Spector.”
Again you took a loud sip from your smoothie, causing the plastic to squeak, and stayed silent. To be honest, it confused you because, why this was important?
Sam releases a sigh and proceeds to speak.
“He was last seen in Cairo at some excavation site. Thought to be dead after a rampage occured by someone from their group…” He lingers on. “….Till this, was caught in a Museum CCTV in London.” The screen flashes to a blurrier image of a man who was wearing a rugged jacket, messy hair and a weird stance.
“Okay, so? He isn’t dead. Big whoop. Why feel the need to tell me?” The unenthused tone of your voice was evident. You place your drink onto the table and cross your arms. Eyeing Sam as your eyebrows raise up.
“He knows something about the shit that happened in Cairo. Where dozens of scientists, GOOD scientists, paleontologists and whatever-the-fuck-gists, were brutally murdered.” He flashes images of a desert in Egypt filled with lifeless, bloody bodies. Both young and old. People with aspirations, goals, lives to live. All taken away. You felt a pang in your heart.
“We need to know what American blood was doing over there.” Sam looks at you with more seriousness in the tone of his voice. “And who we should approach to stop this.” His eyes were more genuine, and you knew what he was asking for.
“So you want me to get him… right?”
“Bingo.”
“Fine.” You stand up, stretching your arms above your head. “Send me all there is to know about Spector.” Sam smiles up at you, nodding at your tenacity. He knew you were going to be moved by the incident, and he knew you were the right person to send. Not like he had much of a choice but, you were the only viable one.
Hawkeye was nowhere to he found. So was Antman. Spiderman was god knows where, especially since no one knew who he actually was. Doctor Strange isn’t even an Avenger. Bruce went on some sort of vacation and Bucky… well let’s just say you’re the most viable.
~
Landing in London as an Avenger and not as a contractual assassin was kind of refreshing. Of course, you won’t walk around letting people know you’re an Avenger. But Goddamn, it does feel powerful.
You arrived at London around 11 AM. The museum was about a 10 minutes away from the AirBnB you were staying in, so everything was within reach.
As you got situated into your AirBnB, you quickly placed your baggage in the closet and grabbed the most easily accessible outfit. A pair of leggings and a hoodie.
Exitting the lobby of the flat, you made your way to the Museum. Trying to get there before the inevitable crowd of tourists crowd the place. You weren’t quite sure what you were going to try and prove if you came face to face with Spector. All you knew was, innocent people died and this man witnessed the attack.
Stepping up the tall steps that led to the museum, you were happy to know that there was no entrance fee. God knows museums, which are dedicated for learning, shouldn’t be charging. But alas, some still do. The world ain’t perfect.
You kept your eyes open. Ensuring that if you were to catch even a small sight of Marc Spector, you would get to him. But, of course— you gotta keep it lowkey. You moved pass the various pieces of art and artifacts. Finally deciding to stand in front of a Sarcophagus.
Damn, this thing’s golden. Your thoughts lingered as you pretended to care about the piece. Turning around from time to time to spot Spector, and looking back at the writing describing the Sarcophagus.
“Ahh, yes. That’s an interesting piece.”
A voice interrupts your fake acting, making you jolt to your right in order to see the stranger.
“That there is a sarcophagus. Pharaohs were often laid to rest there but only once all their organs, except the heart, were taken out.” It was him. Dressed up in a beige jacket and a funky shirt. The face you’ve been studying for the past few days and the person Captain Wilson wants you to track. Right here, talking to you.
“Uh-“ You stutter out, pure shock covering your face. You look down to his chest and see his nametag. Steven. What? But, this was Marc Spector. It had to be. Those rugged features couldn’t be a simple similarilty.
“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He almost backs away but you pull his sleeve gently.
“No, no, please. Um… why do they leave the heart?” In order to get a picture to study later tonight, you needed him to stay and keep near. You adjusted your hoodie slightly for the nano camera to capture his face. Sideways and frontal view.
“Oh, cause they’ll be judged by their hearts which will decide whether they enter the field of reeds!” He was so chipper. And British as hell. American Intelligence. That’s who Spector was, but this man is British as ever. Maybe its his twin? You debated on whether you should ask him or not, but your thoughts get interrupted
“Steven! What are you doin’? Get back to the shop!” A blonde lady screams from his back which causes the man to close his eyes tight, apologizing to you.
“Sorry, I’m not a tour guide, sadly.” He points to the gift shop and shyly bows his head down.
“No? You sound like you know your stuff.” You complimented the guy and pat him lightly on his shoulder. Praying to God you got the correct pictures to run through and compare on the computer later
“Thanks, it’s cause I like-“
“STEVEN!”
“I-I gotta go. Sorry again!” He shouts as he runs off to the direction of the blonde woman who looked like he was going to bite his head off.
At that moment in time, everything froze and you felt like you met a fork in the road. You needed to head back to the AirBnB and find out what the hell and who the hell this was.
~
Stepping back into your rented out apartment, you phoned Sam while setting up the computer to run data analysis through the pictures you got.
“Y/n? What’s the situation?” Sam beams in through. You put the phone on the side while pressing the speaker mode.
“Uh… met a speedbump.” You injected the nano camera to the side of the laptop and uploaded the images to compare Marc Spector and mystery man, Steven.
“How big of a speedbump we talking about?” You could hear Sam pacing back and forth.
“So I met a man who looks precisely like Spector in the museum…” Your photo uploads and the facial recognition analysis tool finally began to run its course. “…but it was not… Marc Spector...” The program completes the analysis.
Similarity: 100%
“Yeah? Hello?” Sam beckons, confused why you turned silent.
Shocked, all you could do was try and understand the situation. But you only came onto one conclusion. You were bamboozled. Marc Spector probably knew you were headed his way and placed a co-worker’s nametag and left it at that. Or he could have legally changed his name and faked an accent. You weren’t sure anymore. “Cap I’m sending you something.” With a few taps on the keyboard, the information on Spector’s whereabouts was exposed.
“Got it.” He was probably looking at the data because all you heard was, “Goddamn, what is he hiding from..?”
“No idea.”
“You gotta confront him. He gets off work at around 5 according to the footage.” You hear a few clicks from the laptop on Sam’s side.
“Right.” You look at the watch 4:45, “Better get going then.” After Sam’s pleasant goodbyes, the call ended.
Instead of opting for a more casual attire, you wore your work suit. Nothing fancy, it was just a dark blue suit that was made of thick, bullet proof material. It hugged your body tight in all the right places to ensure maximum movement. You wished you didn’t have to use your powers tonight.
~
You stood by the bushes on the side of the museum. Waiting for the so-called, Steven, to walk by. It was 5:06 PM, and he should be here, any minute now. And as if on cue, you spot the man again with his bag draped over his shoulder. Quickly you slid to his feet, causing him to trip over onto the concrete floor. You grabbed him by the legs to drag him behind the bushes, avoiding a crowd. Though, there was barely anyone there, it wasn’t worth the chance.
You pinned him onto the grassy ground and placed your arm on his chest. “Okay, Spector, no more funny games. Why are you hiding? What happened in Cairo?” He was in shock, shaking, startled at the suddenness.
“Wh-what??” He mutters out, trying his best. His eyes flicker, keeping his gaze on you. As if he was trying to focus on who you were. To his surprise, you were the one who complimented him earlier that day. And now, you were about to hurt him or something. “Say, you were the nice lady in the museum! This is a far cry from being nice, lady!”
“Oh quit the accent! Tell me the truth Marc Spector-“
“Sorry, what did you call me?” His question makes you pause.
“Marc. Spector.” You nearly choke over your words because you couldn’t believe this man was still pretending.
“You’re-you’re not the first person who called me that- but I’m sorry, lady. I am Steven Grant. Not Marc.” Your pin on him got softer because the look on his face sincere. It was quite genuine and your mind was stuck. If he wasn’t Marc, the facial recognition program may be faulty or something. But, that’s impossible.
You plopped to his side, sitting beside him. Desperate to arrive onto a proper answer, because this was not making any sense. “You gotta help me here, Steven…” you use the name he constantly repeated. “Marc Spector shares your face, and we need Marc Spector. It’s impossible that you two don’t have a link.”
He sits up beside you and tries to look at you, but a part of him is still afraid since you were nearly choking him awhile ago. “I-I can tell you what I know.”
“You know something?” Grabbing him by the shoulders makes Steven flinch a bit but he calms down.
“Yes…” He stands up and fixes his bag, as you followed his actions. He got a better view of what you were wearing and was genuinely terrified. You looked like you were some secret agent of some sort. “…do you work for the FBI?” He gestures to your attire.
“Uh… Something like that, sure.” You balanced yourself in between your feet. “So, the thing you know…”
“Right, it’s in my flat…” In order to help you not look like a fish out of water during the walk to his flat, he removes his jacket and hands it over to you. “Put this on.”
“Oh-um… thanks.” Carefully, you grab the jacket and wear it. Now your attire just looks like a big jacket and some shiny ass jeans.
“Yeah, now… Follow me.” Steven makes his way back to the main streets, as you follow behind. You typed a quick message to Sam letting him know you’re gathering intel and will send him updates soon.
You weren’t sure what this Steven guy would know about Marc Spector, but since they shared the same face— there had to be something more to it. So all that was left to do was wait.
-✨-
Part 2
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russosafehaven · 1 year
Text
Monochromatic Prisms: Part One
A/N: I’ve never done an ‘x reader’ or even a fanfiction before so hopefully this isn’t too bad?? I’m much used to writing my own stories!! Anyways hope anyone who finds this enjoys it.
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Series Title: Monochromatic Prisms
Chapter: Part One - Every Story Starts Somewhere
Song: You’re own your own kid
Pairings: Matt Murdock x Reader (Platonic), Foggy Nelson x Reader (Platonic), Karen Page x Reader (Platonic), Daisy Johnson x Reader (Platonic), Yelena Belova x Reader (Platonic), Danny Rand x Reader (Platonic), Wanda Maximoff x Reader (Platonic), Pietro Maximoff x Reader (Platonic). Some of these are only mentioned!!
Word Count: 2094
~
The stairway was dark, as it usually was when stumbling home at 3am. Living on the top floor was a burden in this moments. Muttering to yourself as you continued the hike up the stairs, cursing yourself for being sloppy and getting shot.
Upon reaching the top floor, hands fumbled in your pockets for the keys to your apartment. In the dark, it was hard to identify the keys but eventually you found the right one. As always the door was a bitch to open. Jerking the key trying to turn the lock until finally it opened. The door swinging wildly as if it was out of control. Your hand shot out, feeling around for the light switch so that the room wasn’t so dark.
Heavy footsteps pounded in your ears as you made your way through the living room. As you found your way to the kitchen, you leaned on the bench for support. On the countertop there was a small white tin. A first aid kit. On the lid there was a range of stickers. It was decorated by Danny, a vigilante and CEO in his mid twenties. It was his gift to you when you had saved his life.
Pulling the tin over and ripping your shirt off, you found the suture kit as well as some tweezers. Not bothering to clean the tweezers you shoved them in and started to fish around for the bullet. As contact was made you began to pull it out. A harsh scream threatened to leave your throat. With a ugly squelch the bullet and tweezers left your body, replaced with a spurt of ruby liquid. Your hand slammed on the bench feeling around for a rag of some sorts. It was then you realised you didn’t have one near. Hesitantly you reached for the tea towel instead holding it over the wound on your stomach. The bullet had missed anything vital but regardless had hurt like a bitch. It was moments like these you regret giving your powers up, missed your team. Unfortunately you thought it was for the greater good, take a drug to suppress your powers and live your team until you could bring Frank Castle in.
Once the bullet hole was closed up neatly, you wandered over to your couch. Collapsing on the soft cushioning and reaching for the TV remote. As you flicked it on you searched for Netflix and tiredly typed in Brooklyn 99. Your favourite show at the moment next to various other sit coms. Lazily you drifted off to sleep not quite caring about the episode.
The next morning there was a burning pain in your stomach. It shot you up and your eyes didn’t get a chance to adjust to the light. You rushed over to the sink holding your head over it as the contents of your stomach poured out. As tears welled in your eyes from the stinging acid a knock at your door pulled your thoughts away. Grabbing the dish cloth you wiped your face opting to clean the mess later.
The walk to the door was short but taxing on your body. You opened the door and were greeted by a pair of red glasses. A grin was donned as the man made his way into your apartment.
“You’re worse than me, it’s nearly 1pm- is that blood? There’s copper in the air”
You silently damned yourself for forgetting your best friends “powers”. Instead of lying you laid out the truth.
“Patrol was rough last night, got shot and passed out after stitching myself up”
The man shook is head as he walked over to you. Gently throwing his white cane onto the small side table by the couch. Gently, he placed a hand around the wound site. Feeling the warmth rising to the area.
“You need to be more careful, especially without your powers I- I don’t know what’d happen if I lost you. Again”
Silently your mind reminded you of what happened just over 12 years ago. You were 16 and he was 18. He had received a scholarship into Columbia Law and left you. Despite his promises to stay in contact he never did. That same year, the other member of your trio had ran away from Saint Agnes. Leaving you to fend for yourself.
“You did fine the first time Matthew”
It came out harsher than you had meant it to, venom dripping as you said his name. His hand that was placed around the wound left tentatively. As if he didn’t quite want to let you go.
“That’s not fair, you know it’s not fair”
Like yours was, Matthews voice is also harsh. To an extent it was understandable. He had gone off for college and left his time at the orphanage behind. It wasn’t his fault he and the other had left the same year. Exhaling, you walked over to Matt, wrapping your arms around his waist. As you nestled into his chest he returned the gesture.
“I’m sorry for leaving you Dragon”
A smile formed on your lips at the mention of your childhood nickname. When you first met Matt at Saint Agnes he was 9 and you were 7. You had been wandering the halls late and night when you bumped into him. In your hands there was a purple dragon with blue accents, back then it was your life line. You had let him feel it to work out what it was. Since then the name Dragon had stuck. When you were 16 and wishing him off to college, you had snuck the plush animal in. A good luck charm of sorts.
“You’re here now Matthew, that’s all that matters to me”
A chuckle released from the two of you. For a moment, the world was just the two of you. Childhood best friends relishing in one another’s touch. That was until the door flung open revealing a distressed Foggy Nelson.
“Matt you went to check on them hours ag- oh hello you two, now can you bring your asses to the office! We’ve still got a case yknow?!”
The case in question was the Frank Castle case. You had left your old team when the murderous vigilante first started terrorising the city. In fact you had done your best research right down to finding his old home. To your knowledge he had a partner, a Billy Russo who hadn’t been caught yet. Yet Frank was caught and Matt being the idiot he was convinced Foggy to take on the case. You shudder at the memory of when you first saw Frank in hospital. You had a photo of him and his family that you had slipped into his hand when the rest of Nelson and Murdock’s employees turned around to discuss something. Your first impression of the vigilante was odd to say the least. He wasn’t quite the monster he was described as but you also didn’t need telepathy to see he had been hurt, deeply.
“Yeah sorry Foggy, I uh, got mugged and shot last night. Lucky me right?”
Foggy’s eyes flicked down to your waist. You only had a pair of sweatpants and a “cropped” tank top on. The pants hanging low enough to reveal the messily stitched wound that was above your adonis belt.
“Holy shit, are you sure you don’t need a hospital?“
His voice was laced with concern. Despite being aware of Matt’s “extracurriculars” you had decided against telling him you were an Ex-SHIELD Agent who currently operated as a vigilante. Matt, who had made his way to the kitchen to grab some water let out a chuckle.
“This isn’t funny Matt, they could be seriously hurt”
As Matt removed his glasses, placing them on the bench as he knelt down to find a glass, he started to respond to Foggy. Since you were kids, you had always hated the hospital after your year in the group home, you had come back to Saint Agnes different and both your friends could tell.
“Good luck getting them to a hospital Foggy”
Foggy huffed and you wandered off to your room. Peeling the sweat pants off and replacing it with more business casual attire. You hadn’t bothered closing the door, allowing the conversation to continue.
“Please don’t tell me you have an alter ego too”
The blonde exclaimed as you walked out of your bedroom. The button up shirt fit snugly, as did the black dress pants. The top few buttons of your shirt were left open, as they always were when it was just another day in the office.
“Foggy-“
You hesitated for a moment, taking a breath in. You battled internally whether to tell him the truth or not. Your eyes darted over to Matt who had picked up on your racing heart.
“Foggy I think it’s best you sit down. Matt can you call Karen, you all deserve to hear this”
Matt picked up his phone, calling Karen. Foggy’s brows burrowed in confusion. Despite Matt knowing about your past, you made the executive decision of acting as if he didn’t. You had left your team to bring Frank Castle in, you had given up your powers for this mission. It was time to tell your now closest friends the truth. At first, hunting down Matt and joining his firm was means to an end. Over the past few months they had became great friends. Foggy was always in awe of your baking, you and Matt loved reconnecting and Karen became your favourite drinking buddy.
“Hey what’s going on? What aren’t you telling us?”
You sighed, telling Foggy you wanted to tell all three of them together. It was only twenty minutes until Karen came knocking on your door. Matt had let her in, walking her over to the couch.
“What’s happened?”
Her voice was delicate yet firm, something you admired in the woman. As you started to think about how you wanted to phrase this, you started fiddling with your hands. Gently cracking your bones. A common nervous stim.
“I’m going to say something and it’s going to make me sound like a horrible person. You may hate me, you might shun me and honestly I get it, but I need you to know that it wasn’t my intention for this to go this far”
Karen have you a confused look, just as Foggy had done. Matt adjusted himself on the couch, trying to get comfortable as he prepared himself for less than savoury reactions.
“I am a former SHIELD Agent. I was hired when I was 22 years old, at the time I was on the streets. I had these powers I didn’t understand, I had always just seen myself as some sad mutant orphan. At first, I was scared around SHIELD. Until that is I was reconnected with Skye Johnson”
The name elicited a reaction from Matt, he wasn’t aware you had found Daisy again. She had ran away from Saint Agnes a day before he left for college which had left both of you distressed.
“Skye was my other best friend from Saint Agnes. At the time, we hadn’t seen each other for what… 6 years? Except she had changed, her hair was shorter, she had powers and she had discovered her parents wanted to name her Daisy. When we were 23, I met the twins Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, they were 21 years old. Mutants, an evolution to the human. Another year passed and now there’s Danny Rand, a 20 year old with these magic powers. A glowing fist that granted him super strength or some shit like that. I took him under my wing, just like I took the twins. Then when I’m 25, there’s Yelena Belova. A former Red Room assassin who, at the time, was 23. When I started to train with her, I started to form my team. The Outcasted. You had me, Prism. Daisy - Quake, Wanda - Scarlet Witch, Pietro - Quicksilver, Danny - Iron Fist and finally Yelena - the White Widow. We were good, it was an adjustment but we get along well. We were family. When I was 26 I discovered I was initially born in another reality, all of this. This world was fiction to me. It fucked with my head for a while. According to Strange, I tried to kill myself when I was 16 in my old world. Instead of dying, the multiverse put me here. Restarted my clock or some shit, and the infinity stones of this world? They were absorbed into my skin. Now they just sit in a cuff around my arm, but they gave me my powers. The following year I was caught in the carousel shooting, the one that killed the Castles. I only survived because the stones let me. Anyways, it hit me that Frank survived. When the Punisher made his first kill. I felt responsible, I mean fuck I could’ve done something that day you know? Fought to protect everyone, but I was weak. I didn’t fight. So I took this stash of drugs a friend of mine was working in. If I inject one vial a day it suppresses my powers, renders me unable to use them. So I stole them all, it’s lasted me this long. I made myself a whole new identity just so I could hunt Murdock down, fight in the streets of New York at night just for one fucking lead. Get a job with him, because maybe it would give me a fighting chance to help Castle. I know Matt, know him well. Catholic guilt makes him love helping strays”
As you trailed off, all three of them stayed silent. Foggy stood up making his way to the kitchen, more than likely to calm himself down. Another twenty minutes passed before someone spoke up and the silence made your skin itch.
“What made you decide to tell us now?”
It was Karen, you could hear betrayal in her voice yet also sympathy. You placed your hands down on your thighs, throwing yourself back in my chair. Staying quiet for a few moments, you answered her question.
“I couldn’t hide this shit from you guys any longer. It was meant to be a simple mission, joining Nelson and Murdock was just means to an end. I wasn’t meant to form attachments, but being around you guys… I had a family again. I couldn’t keep lying anymore. Plus Foggy found out I got shot so that was another reason”
At the sound of his name, Foggy looked over at you. His eyes staying still on your form. A sharp sting came from your stomach. You tried to ignore it but couldn’t avoid a grimace forming on your face. Karen let out a hum, mulling over what had just happened. It was a lot to take in, it always was.
“Promise me one thing, just one thing”
You looked back at Foggy who was still standing in the kitchen. His face was unreadable yet you can’t imagine it was pleasant. You nodded at him no verbally telling him to continue his sentence.
“Tell us when you need help?”
Your mouth opened to respond but closed almost immediately. The thumping in your chest felt like it was going faster and you felt everyone’s attention on you.
“Of course Foggy, I give you my word”
After a year of working alone, you found your faith in a team again. You knew Foggy wasn’t fond of helping Castle, but hopefully you could convince him otherwise. Karen got up from her sit, making her way over to yours as she sat down.
“I can’t say I approve of what you’re doing, but you do have experience. Just don’t get killed okay?”
You let out a small chuckle which made the other three let out small chuckles as well. Another team, another family. Maybe this trust thing was worth it. Matt shot a smirk your way, surprised that neither of them reacted in distaste, although you spoke up about it upfront. Matt left Foggy to find him half dead.
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inkblot-inc · 2 years
Text
Fish Are Friends Not Food
Summary: Reader is a mutant with the abilities and characteristics of a tiger shark. You’ve grown up in the hands of HYDRA to be a killer. Nothing more, nothing less. When the Avengers come upon you at the HYDRA base, Natasha is one of the two tasked to help you adjust to life among other people
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mutant!TigerShark!Reader
[AU Masterlist] This is Part 1
Warnings: darkish themes; very brief mention of mutant poachers (it’s literally a blip), mention of cannibalism (not in detail, but it’s mentioned), hypnotism, manipulation, mention of suicide (again, not in detail, but it is there), and you know…violence
Note: this is just the backstory for who I'm from here on going to call Jaws, AKA the reader, and how they met the team; how they met Natasha
Word Count: A little more than 2k
*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit
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You were born and raised on a small island in the middle of the southern Pacific Ocean (a “child” formation to a certain living island) with several older siblings, you being the most temperamental of them
You were out for a weekend dive with your siblings by the coast of the island when there was a torrential downpour while you were fairly young.
That downpour soon became a hurricane, and as far as you could tell through the flashes of lightning, no one else made it off of the island before it was flooded and ultimately destroyed.
You wound up swept onto the Galapagos, where you scavenged to survive for about a year before poachers got to you.
You were sold to a man named Dr. Faustus, where you then lived in a saltwater tank the height of your body and just as wide.
Dr. Faustus altered a few things in your body, largely wanting to preserve what he called the “novelty” of your being. You only knew your instincts had been heightened, you felt stronger, you healed faster than normal, and you could smell, hear and see a lot more things than you could before
“How the gills on your neck interact with the rest of your immune system is truly a marvel….” blah blah blah. It all started to fade into the background with the other things you couldn’t completely focus on.
To actually explain what he’s talking about: The gills on your neck are your primary source of breathing, having been raised in and around the water up until this point. Your nose is really only utilized on land. The way to describe the feeling of this to you is like walking around holding your breath most of the time. Doable, but uncomfortable after a while. That’s why you only fully feel comfortable in the water. (I imagine it could be the other way around experience-wise if someone with an aquatic mutation was raised largely on land (who’s logically doing that) but this is the basic idea.
Through hypnotic suggestion, he made use of your unruly temper and trained you to be his executioner of sorts. It was also the only way you’d get fed.
“You kill them, you get to eat. That’s how this works, so-” he’d toss his latest victim in the tank with you. “It’s chow time, haifisch spawn.”
This went on for several more years before you got further training to go into the field. Again, exclusively executions
Because there was no time where you would have normal interactions with other people, your response to almost everything was violence.
The person sent to go with you on a mission is being kind of irritating? Strangle them. Maybe a bit mouthy? Bite their hand off, that simple.
“I guess today’s the day you learn how to use a zipline with one hand Jerry,”
Do you get reprimanded for these stunts? No, not really. Jerry needs to learn to shut his ass up.
Killing was quite literally the only thing you were used for, otherwise you would sit in the water and just float. There was nothing to do, and nothing for you to think about. You could barely remember the faces of your brothers and sisters, and while underwater you could only catch the faintest whisper of what you know by now is your mother’s voice.
“There’s my baby, where have you been?” “You know what happens when you lose your head,” “remember not to stray too far now,” “I love you guppy.”
Those would be the words to lull you to sleep when lights went out and you closed your eyes
Progressing into adulthood you only become more savage with your marks, and you were given one final “upgrade” from Dr. Faustus.
You underwent the process of having your teeth and jaws bonded with a small settlement of adamantium they had gathered.
The whole bonding and recovery process took a few months to fully adjust
By now you didn’t even have to “preserve your kills for later” anymore, as one of Faustus’ rewards was giving you actual food to eat.
Compared to the other subjects he had in the building, the food you got was basically considered Michelin star: A1 steaks and the like, but to you, it was more of the same. One was ethical and one wasn’t. One came to you breathing erratically and the other was dead long before it wound up in front of you.
Safe to say that you became Faustus’ most prized subject. He didn’t beat on you because he didn’t have to. You were also his novelty mutation of humans, he wouldn’t risk a life like that for his own curiosity. He would just use hypnosis and psychological warfare to get what he wanted, and it worked well enough.
You’d called this place home for over a decade before the biggest shift in your life would happen in meeting the Avengers
----------
The Avengers had finally zeroed in on the location of the last HYDRA base that had been sitting in New York.
It was basically under their noses for years, basically taunting them. Even combing through streets and buildings, they were coming up empty.
Then, Tony got a hit on one of the files that was publicized back during the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. Something about a shipment of extreme importance to New York City that was encrypted as tight as Fort Knox. They decided to head to that location next
The base was underground, actually pretty close to Times Square: a lot of traffic, not many eyes following specific people, a good spot to be hidden for sure.
Around this time, Faustus had been notified of the oncoming assault from Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Rather than fight them off, have them potentially interrogate his subjects and employees for intel and give away his research for HYDRA, he had your tank soundproofed as he broadcasted his hypnotic suggestion throughout the building to get all the people occupying the building to kill themselves. He issued his last order to you to kill the intruders coming into the building, thereafter he killed himself.
You were on the move, and like a predator stalking its prey, you went up into the rafters to get a good view of your targets. As you came up to attack the man in the spangled suit, your closest target, there was a sudden tingle in your head before you saw red.
Now, when Wanda tried knocking you out, it did maybe the exact opposite. You launched yourself at the man in front of you in a frenzy, your breathing erratic as you swung at him with killing intent. You were moving so fast that he was just barely blocking it with his shield.
“Alright guys, Wanda and I are gonna need backup like now!”
More people came in, you could kept note of their positions in the room before you refocused on the person in front of you.
Someone struck you from behind. It barely tickled, but you felt it. You turned around to snap the limb of the person behind you with your teeth, just missing their arm.
“WOAH JAWS!” The lady that was behind you yelled out involuntarily as you continued to bare your teeth at her. You suddenly felt a blast to the chest and you were knocked into the body of the first man you were fighting.
“Did we get them?” “They were hit with my repulsor blast from pretty close range, I’d say-” you almost sprang up all the way when the man you landed onto put you in a chokehold on reflex.
“AGH SHIT!” You bit him on the forearm to get free when you got knocked out with his shield to the temple.
The avengers gathered together to regroup and take in their only living occupant in the HYDRA base.
They decided to take you back to the compound for further questioning and an analysis, Tony noticing there was no damage where he hit you with his repulsor blast.
As they all made their way back to the quinjet, Steve carrying you over his shoulder, Nat stopped next to him and stared at your unconscious form and then up at him
“Be sure to watch your language next time Jaws starts to get the upper hand on you,” she smirked as she walked past to get on the jet.
----------
When you awoke in the medbay of the compound, Tony and Bruce were in the room looking over your DNA and trying to make sense of your mutation and what led to it.
Tony turned to you, “So, Swim Shady, care to tell us how you got the gills of a fish, but no fins?”
Safe to say you almost killed Tony several times they were trying to get information out of you.
The timid man in the corner, Bruce, wasn’t even worth your time to focus on. He didn’t seem too keen on getting close to you either, which was just as well.
They called in the two women you saw back at the HYDRA base, and your eyes narrowed on the shorter redhead and stayed on her.
“Good to know you can remember faces, Jaws,”
There was an irritating feeling in the pit of your stomach while looking at her, but you chalked it up to being hungry.
With whatever they had strapped to this bed, you weren’t able to remedy that anytime soon with all of them keeping their distance.
Wanda avidly decided to pacify you from her stance by the door
After Wanda used her powers to put you in a calmer, more receptive state, Bruce and Tony were able to continue their inquiries.
You weren’t very talkative by then, but you gave clipped responses
“The gills?”
“Born with them,”
“The teeth?”
“Born with those,”
“.....You sure you don’t have any fins?”
“I’ve never had any fins. Stop asking.” and so the questioning went.
After having Sam call, confirming that all the people in the HYDRA base including the "Dr. Faustus" that you mentioned were dead, the next step was what to do with you.
After Tony’s idea to ship you out to the circus was immediately shot down and further ignored, they ultimately came to you with two options.
Since you were manipulated and raised under HYDRA, they could work with you to help you readjust into the rest of society and basically unlearn all the bad and maybe even use your abilities for good *wink wink, nudge nudge*
Or you stand trial for all of the murders you committed while under HYDRA as the sole survivor in the base (which would most definitely wind up with you being put to death, maybe The Raft if they were being generous)….
Ah yes, what a hard decision indeed.
You decided to let them help you, not that you knew what that all would entail, having grown up surrounded by morally questionable individuals since the tender age of eight. It was then put in place that Wanda and Natasha would be the ones to help you.
Wanda with her wiggly woos seemed like the most logical choice, and Natasha was the least frightened of what you could do
The others were largely nuisances anyways, Tony would’ve lost a limb by now had Wanda not been soothing your amygdala while he was prodding you for information. Steve already had the bite mark on his right forearm from when they apprehended you. It was definitely going to scar, and he didn’t want to potentially get any more if he could help it. And Bruce? Out of the question for obvious reasons.
Clint, Sam, and Vision were still coming back from sweeping the HYDRA base for any clues to other bases and anything they might’ve missed. So while the rest of the team handled whatever else needed to be handled, Natasha had you unstrapped from the bed and had Wanda make sure that you were still pacified before she led you to what would be your room for the rest of your time in the compound.
The entire way there, there was a subtle apprehension to being stuck with these people you didn’t know. But that same feeling in the pit of your stomach appeared when you looked down to watch as Natasha led you away by the hand, But this time it wasn’t so irritating…
You still chalked it up to just being hungry.
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Text
Ghost of Us — Chapter 1
Masterpage <last next>
This is the sequel to my book Ghost of You. Go check it out before reading this one.
Pietro Maximoff x fem!Mutant!reader
Warnings: PTSD, vague mention of torture, blood, little violence, alcohol, alcohol as a coping mechanism, liquor store, alcoholism, suicide talk, angst, trauma, grief
Word Count: 3284
If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know :)
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Dying is easy.
Coming back it's the tricky part.
But what's even worse is the situation I found myself in at the moment.
I released a yelp as Strange's eldritch whip came in my direction and I quickly dodged behind a table which seconds later exploded into million pieces leaving me defenseless in front of a frustrated wizard. I slowly crawled backward until my back hit the wall and winced at the intensity of his gaze.
"Get up."
"I'm fine here, thank you very much."
"Now." He demanded, magic illuminating his hands orange. Reluctantly I stood up and faced him before I sprinted away from him racing towards the door. As expected, it did nothing since seconds later I was face down spitting dust a whip wrapped around my leg pulling me towards Strange.
"Fight back." I moved my head out of the way as a magic disc crashed beside me hitting the side of my face and causing blood to pour out of my cheek. The surprise of actual blood was overtaken by anger, as ghosts made their apparition around us. I felt my powers in the tips of my fingers, in the deep of my stomach, they wanted to crawl out and unleash death. The temperature rose and the light faded away.
"That's enough for today Strange," Wong stated as he appeared behind us. His voice snapped me out of my trance and the spirits disappeared. I blinked once, twice. Since coming back from the land of the dead this type of thing has started to happen more frequently and I was afraid to repeat a scene worse than the one back on my last day on the compound after seeing...
"I leave you two for three hours and you somehow always find a way to destroy everything." He snapped as Strange finally released me. I quietly stood up and tried to clean the dirt out of my clothes.
"He started it," I mumbled.
"It's her fault."
"How's that my fault? You attacked me," I snapped, gritting my teeth as I crossed my arms defiantly.
"If you would simply do what I've taught you and fought back then we wouldn't be having this conversation," Strange grunted, narrowing his eyes.
"Well if you got it into your thick skull that I'm not a freaking wizard then we wouldn't be having this conversation either."
"You're insufferable, anyone ever told you that?" He hissed, his jaw clenching.
"Only every day of my entire life," I commented, raising my chin, a smug smile forming on my face.
"Oh now we're playing the victim card, aren't we?" He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "How creative, now I can't say anything without sounding like an asshole."
"Whoops."
"I hate you." He fumed, swearing under his breath.
"Why? I'm lovely." I grinned cheekily as Strange made to reach me. With a yelp, I hid behind Wong, who looked anything but amused. His brows furrowed together in annoyance and I could see a sneer starting to form on his face.
"Okay, that's it. Get out, both of you. I don't wanna see any of you." He snapped and forcefully shoved us out of the room and finally slammed the door on our faces with a loud thud. We stood still for a moment.
"So, you want something to eat?" I grinned
"Don't talk to me." His nostril flared as he turned around and walked away.
"Idiot."
"I heard that!"
"I wasn’t whispering," I announced smirking.
***
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror as I splashed water on my face, erasing any trace of blood that could remind me of my past. But I wasn't fast enough as the sight of bloody water running down the drain brought me back to the days at the asylum. I tried to shake the images out of my head as I forcefully shut my eyes. My breath quickened as memories of being tied down to a table as they sliced me open invaded my brain. I could still remember the feeling of the blade against my skin as if it was yesterday. The pressure on my wrists as they were being tied down. The chill on my exposed bloody back as air met it. How my screams left my throat feeling raw. Their faces as they stood above me...
But a knock on the door stopped my brain from finishing that memory. With shaky hands, I opened the door only to be met with two green eyes. A grimace appeared on my face as I took in his unwanted presence. His eyes however focused solely on my bloody cheek and then on my probably crazed eyes after my little episode, but he knew me enough not to mention it. We faced each other for some awkward seconds until he spoke.
"Need a hand with that?" He nagged.
"Do I look like I need your help?" I barked back and regretted it immediately as I felt blood dripping down my chin.
"Was that a rhetorical question or do you really want me to answer that?" Strange debated, amusement evident in the way his eyes lit up.
"Whatever" I sighed and rolled my eyes as I opened the door completely to let him in and sat on the toilet.
He stepped inside the little room and searched for the first aid kit inside the drawers. When he found it he kneeled in front of me and took the alcohol out. Gently he wiped the blood off my cheek and then rubbed alcohol on it. He looked at me expectantly, waiting for my reaction, and was surprised when he found none.
"It doesn't hurt," I explained. And it didn't, not really. Not even when alcohol came in contact with the open wound.
"You have a high pain tolerance I see." He noted warily.
"I do." And I did, ever since I knew what real pain was, little things like this felt like a joke. For some minutes nothing could be heard as he cleaned my wound and surprisingly gave me two stitches until a loud sigh could be heard from him.
"What?" I snapped annoyed as he sighed for the fifth time.
"I didn't say anything."
"Then stop breathing so loudly," I grunted as I stood off the toilet and made my way to the mirror to gaze at the repaired damage on my face.
"I just don't understand why you're holding back." The sorcerer pondered crossing his arms above his chest.
"I'm not."
"I don't believe that and neither do you."
"Honestly? I don't care what you think." I snapped glaring at him. Restrained anger danced in my eyes as we stared at each other. Suddenly recognition dawned on his eyes.
"Ohh, so he's why." Strange acknowledged. I tensed and froze at his mere mention.
"It's been 8 months Y/n." When I said nothing he continued.
"I think," he began hesitantly, "it's time to get over him."
"I am over him." I denied
"I'm not blind nor deaf, I can see you crumbling before my eyes. Do you think I can't hear you screaming every night in your sleep? Do you think I don't notice the alcohol stench in your room? The bottles? Well, I can. Why do you think I'm trying to teach you control?"
I didn't answer, I was speechless as shame burned through my veins as I recalled all the sleepless nights filled with Pietro's memories and the bottles I drank to erase any trace of him and the last 12 years of my life.
"Because every night you lose it." He softly answered himself.
"Leave me alone."
"Not until you realize how stupid all of this is!" He exclaimed, his hands raised in exasperation as if begging God for patience. "You're wasting your potential grieving over someone who doesn't know who you are."
"I'm warning you Strange. Stop talking." Warning seeping through my teeth.
"I'm sorry to break it to you but that stupid little dead boy doesn't deserve the power he still holds over you." He snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You don't understand." I looked away, shame filling my veins. I hate it, the power Pietro still had over me.
"Explain it to me then, why put yourself through all of this?"
"Because I loved him and he's gone and it hurts" I roared as the lights flicked and the mirror tremble. The air filled with static.
The silence was so loud. I could feel his eyes burning on the back of my head. My hands twitched at my sides, unrestrained power tingling at my fingertips. I tried not to show it, but I know he saw straight through it. He always did. His features softened at the shaking of my hands.
"That day, you told me to make it stop. You told me you would come if I made the pain stop. But if you keep holding back there's nothing I can do to help you."
I knew he was right, of course, he was right. I was holding back. I was hiding. But what was I supposed to do? For twelve years that's what I was thought to do. If I didn't, I was punished. My whole life has revolved around me having to hold back, for my and everyone's sake. Back then I didn't know what I was capable of, and I still am not, but if I have the power to bring someone back, who says I can't do the opposite. The thing is, maybe I don't want to find out.
What's the point of using these abilities, if all they do is bring me pain. I want, no, I need to forget him. And if alcohol is the way, I'll gladly take it, even if it'll just work for a few hours.
"I don't need your help Doctor." I exited the room and smashed the door behind me as I made my way to the nearest liquor store.
The walk was painfully long. Even after 8 months, everywhere I looked I could see his face, literally. There were dozens of posters with his face adorning the street. People were bedazzled when they learned the Pietro Maximoff was, somehow, alive, after 7 years of being considered dead. I walked faster as I always did every time I got too close and before I knew it I was entering the store, the bell ringing as I opened the door.
By then I knew all aisles by memory so I rapidly searched for the tequila and made my way to the front, where the same man was always working. He acknowledge me with a nod and I did the same as I took money out of my pocket and gave it to him. Without a word I took the bag with my newly bought alcohol and left the store.
Outside I entertained my options and decide going back to the sanctum was not a good idea so I settled by walking directionless until I found someplace to sit. Minutes felt like hours as the sun set down on the horizon, obscuring my surroundings.
Some time passed and I found myself alone in the dark, my only company being the ghost of us. And those horrible posters that made no justice to the color of his eyes.
As the first tear made its way through my face I opened the bottle and took a sip that burned my throat and for just a second made me forget that once again I was alone in a world where no one would ever miss me. It wasn't funny, but I couldn't help the laugh that left my mouth.
"You were right dad," I began speaking to no one in particular as I felt my hands start to shake as the reality of my situation sank in. "I am a monster, unlovable." I croaked, my hand finding the almost full bottle and taking a longer sip.
"I think I get it now, why you abandon me." I kept going, way sober to have this realization, so I took another sip. "I wouldn't want to have me as my daughter either."
"I wonder if they miss me" Another sip. "I bet they don't." I chuckled as I lazily took one more.
"Maybe" I whispered to myself as if I was telling a secret. "Maybe everything would be easier if I just" I took a deep shuddering breath that made my lungs ache "disappeared."
"Don't say that." Blurted a childish voice from somewhere above me. I looked up and honestly, I was not a bit surprised to find a teenager in a red tacky suit hanging off a tree, upside down. I sighed and drank some more. It had been a long day.
"Mind your business kid." I sighed as monkey-boy got down from the tree.
"Are you okay?" He softly asked, but I refused to answer. Maybe if I acted like he wasn't there he'll disappear. Like everyone else. HA.
"I can call someone for you if you want." He continued, unaware of my morbid internal sense of humor. How ironic, I concluded. That a total stranger was the only person that cared enough to ask.
"There isn't anyone. Not anymore, at least." I refused to look at him as I admitted the truth. I kept gazing to the front as we sat in silence. I didn't want to see his pity, the pity that clouded Wong's eyes after he found me curled up crying after a particular nightmare, or in the way Strange would halt giving me shit after a panic attack.
But to my surprise, I was found instead with understanding.
"It sucks, doesn't it? Miss them and don't be able to do something about it, but remember them." Red-guy whispered, his voice becoming melancholic with every word. I looked at him and wonder if there were tears in his eyes every time he spoke about this.
"What's the point of remembering if it only causes pain? That's just cruel." I uttered playing with the hem of my shirt, a lonely tear falling. That was all I was gonna allow myself at the moment, one tear for the man I lost and for the life I never got to live.
"It is. But what about all of the happy memories? Those memories made me who I am, who would I be without them?" Bug-kid stated with so much confidence, that I couldn't help to wonder about him again, is the absence of us, affecting him someway? I shook my head at the thought, I don't think I ever was that important.
"Maybe they're gone, but you aren't. So live, if not for yourself, for them." the boy instructed with, what I think, was a smile behind the mask. He looked healed, I wonder if I'll ever be like that.
At the distance, the sirens could be heard which put an end to our conversation. Spider kid stood up and I came to the conclusion he couldn't be older than 15 years. Yikes, I just poured all my bottled-up trauma on a teenager.
"For the record? I don't think you're a monster, someone capable of loving as hard as you did can't be one." That was the last thing he said after he went swinging through the city.
As fast as he left tears clouded my vision. Because he was right. About everything. My life wasn't over, it had barely begun. Pietro was gone but our memories weren't. It didn't matter that he couldn't remember them. It didn't matter, because I could remember for both of us. My Pietro wouldn't have wanted me to stay like this forever, I know that. So out of respect for him, I had to live, and that I would do. No one was ever gonna take my life away from me again, the choice. I had to live for myself and I would fight for it, because of him.
And drowning my fears and pain in alcohol was not gonna do anything to solve my problems. It didn't help my abilities, it just made them unstable. I needed control, and for once in my life, I would take it.
I stood on wobbly legs and with all my force threw the alcohol bottle to the ground but to my embarrassment, it only bounced and didn't break as I expected. To my dismay, it kept rolling and eventually stopped before someone's shoes. I recognized those ugly shoes and their owner.
"That was embarrassing," mocked Stephen Strange a few meters from me. Any day I would've told him that having to walk with that face was embarrassing, but ant-boy's word rang strong in my head.
"I should have died that day, didn't I?" I knew the answer, but I had to ask, because maybe he knew why, maybe he knew the reason why so many failed, but I didn't.
"But you didn't." He stated, his voice rang through my body and told me everything he wanted to say but wouldn't. In some sick/ Stephen Strange way, he cared. He could've just left me there that day, but didn't. He could've sent someone else to get me today, he sure has more important things to do, but he came. I looked at him through my tears and realized, that in all of these past months there wasn't pity in his eyes, it was a way softer stare. I wonder if that's what a father is supposed to look like because at that moment he sure looked and act like the one I needed.
"No, I didn't," I repeated as if I had just realized. And I think to some extent, I just had. All this time I had been blinded by my grief that nothing else mattered. I was grieving and don't think I would ever stop, but life keeps going and so should I, if not for me, for him, for my Pietro.
"Teach me."
"Gladly."
***
~~1 year and 4 months later~~
"That was amazing!" I laughed, stepping through Wong's portal, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I recalled our latest mission.
"It was meh," Wong replied as he close the portal once we were on the New York's sanctum after 2 weeks of chasing some dark wizards. I looked around me and inhaled deeply, a smile on my face. I was finally home.
"Are you kidding me? I totally nailed that." I scoffed
"Nailed what?" Strange asked making his appearance before us. My smile widened at the sight of my teacher.
"Oh Stephen, you should've seen me. I was amazing." I gushed as I approached him and explained the latest mission and my accomplishments to him.
"Good."
"Don't sound too excited, I may think you care." I gave him a nasty look at his lack of interest. But after a few seconds without a come back I realized something was wrong.
"What's wrong?" I asked, unease rising inside of me. My first thought was someone died, but then I realized all the people I care about were in the room and they were pretty much alive. But Pietro wasn't. I paled and felt my heart skip a beat.
"You're not gonna like it." He sighed and looked at me. By the moment I was sure I was as pale as an albino salamander.
"They need our help, well, more specifically, yours." I was so relieved at the knowledge that he was okay that I didn't register what he was saying.
"What, who?" I scrunched up my face and tilted my head. Strange gave me a long look. Uneasiness gnawed at my insides, but nothing could've prepared me to hear that name come out of his lips.
"The Avengers."
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bolontiku · 2 years
Text
"YouTube"
Avengers AU - Quick Fic
Characters: Loki x Mutant!reader
Posted: June 20th
A/N: this is a draft dump, since I have not written anything.
WARNINGS: ??
Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.
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Loki raised a brow.
You were a force to be reckoned with on the field, he had been partnered with you since you had come along. It seemed the two of you worked well together.
He found you crass and annoying, constantly chattering and the way you smiled… and yet here he found you alone in the common room. The lights turned out with the screen giving off the only bit of light. It seemed that you were constantly surrounded by others even when you followed him around. There was a bowl of cereal sitting beside you empty and the large screen in front of you showed an unmoving doll.
"-icked this doll up at the local thrift shop…"
He rolled his eyes and leaned against the doorframe, you had yet to pick up on his presence, which he found odd as you seemed to always find him in a matter of seconds. He looked back to the screen, a doll captivated you more than he?
In truth, he did not know much about you. Thor had brought you up several times but he ignored his brother's cajoling and brash laughter. You had worked solo before, and with others, though the latter he had heard you had trouble with. He scowled and made a mental note to look into your dossier, out of professional curiosity. One should know what they could of their teammates.
"- did you see it?" The whisper from the television set caught his attention once more.
The music from the TV built into tense string work. You made a small noise, quickly tucking your feet up under you and tugging one of the various blankets up around your neck, leaning slightly forwards. Were you in distress? He reached out and ran his fingers along the back of your neck, "Y/N-"
Your scream reverberated off the walls and he stumbled back as your small curvy frame jerked off the couch and you flew onto your feet.
Loki raised his hands, staring down the barrel of your psionic weapon. "Ah, tut tut!" He admonished you, two long fingers pushing the gun out of his face slowly.
You dropped your head and arms, exhaling loudly, the gun disappearing. "Why would you creep up on a person?!"
Loki furrowed his brow, "your powers?"
You dropped back onto the couch with a frown, "psychic abilities are always on but that doesn't mean I don't get distracted, I hear a million and one thoughts if I don't block it out sometimes. Am I not supposed to be safe here?!"
Loki said nothing as you settled and turned only to find your hand wrapped around his wrist. He grunted softly as you dragged him to the couch beside you. "It is a doll Y/N."
"An evil doll that moves by itself."
He said nothing as he settled beside you, surprised that you could make such an adorable face. Had you not faced evil countless times? And yet… he felt a shiver run down his spine as the doll moved an inch on the screen. What was it about innocence being twisted in such a way? "What is the purpose of this?" He asked with a huff.
"Shhh!" You scolded him, "YouTube scary marathon. You're stuck here now." You kept your eyes glued to the screen and kept your hand secured around his wrist, using your powers to recover your blanket and drape it over the both of you.
The narrator's voice settled over the room and Loki found he was more interested in the way your fingers felt wrapped around his wrist than what was on the screen.
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volturitrash · 8 months
Text
Volturi, not ✨️gods✨️ but likes to believe they are: What a wonderful surprise
Alfie, deviant with godlike powers: I was promised churros and hot guys
Aro: Bella is alive after all and Jane has brought us a gift
Alfie: The only gift you're getting is a knuckle sandwich and hellfire
Caius: *red string of fate strikes*
Alfie: No
Marcus: It is to my knowledge, dearest brother that-
Alfie: NO
Marcus: they are mated
Alfie: mated my foot you brainwashed excuse for a vampire. Who tf turns into a glitter fairy under sunlight what nonsense am I in right now??
Alec, definitely did not question the sparkly factor: you are under the scrunity of the Volturi it would do you well to-
Alfie: make myself king and get this nonsense over with? Yeah I've got a doctor's appointment in the next 12 hrs and I've never seen Carlisle angry and I don't wanna see it now.
Aro:
Caius, the local yandere: No
Marcus: But yes
Alfie: Can I go home? I'm going home *opens portal to god knows when*
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dearest-painter · 9 months
Note
Okay yk what call me tmnt anon because I'm on a roll w this au/hj
Want some angst? ( kinda) the spider crew meets the spider mutant!reader BEFORE their mutation and all have their time to bond with the reader like peter B definitely took reader too all the best fast food places and spent hours showing them photos of ( their little sister) Mayday trying his best to convince them it would be cooler with the spider gang as they could have friends their age.
Miguel and jess would be there for the reader in their own way either miguel teaching them Spanish or jess cooking or teaching reader life lessons.
Gwen and hobie would try to teach the reader to play their respective instruments and miles and pav would be there every second they Could to hang out with the reader whenever leo and mikey weren't on their tails .( also spider gang hangouts don't stay spider only hangouts for long because donnie defo has a tracker on the reader )
But one day all that bonding all that sneaking off to hang out stops because the reader just disappears from their usual spots their apartment? Empty
And the spider gang goes to interrogate the turtles only to see reader newly mutated they still look the same (ish) but w more eyes, fangs and spider like arms..
This not only gives the turtles an advantage over the spider gang because who can protect the mutant reader better than other mutants!
TMNT Anon I love this so much, NEVER STOP SENDING THESE IN I LOVE THIS AU SO FUCKING MUCH!
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huesohnobro · 2 years
Text
You Don’t Love Her
Chapter 1: A Business Meeting
Natasha Romanoff x GN (except for one line where Reader is referred to as a woman) Nightcrawler! Reader
Content warnings: Red Room Natasha, violence, blood, manipulation, mentions of organ harvesting, demon/mutant reader, cult and mob shenanigans
For as long as you can remember, your life has been hell; not that you minded, hell has been quite kind to you. Born of a rather infamous shape-shifting mutant and a father whom you’ve only had the pleasure of hearing about in ancient texts, you’ve grown comfortable with the… peculiarities… surrounding your past. These peculiarities made up more parts of your life than you could count on the six fingers of your hands, and these peculiarities led you to such compromising positions as the one you found yourself in now. Lips curling into a smirk, your tail flicked with glee at the sight before you; it wasn’t often that one of your men brought you a worthy sacrifice, especially not one so vibrant as the flame-haired woman who stood before you. You could tell you weren’t what she was expecting, you often tended not to be. Your eyes followed the woman’s own with a vague interest, watching as they trailed from the prehensile tail now wrapped around the arm of your chair to your gloved hands, each owning two less fingers than your average person. You hummed as her eyes trailed up your form, usually by now those brought before you had begun to hyperventilate; though you suppose that the red-headed woman had known what she was in for. Few of your previous sacrifices had been bold enough to request being brought to your feet, and even less had been bold enough to stare directly up at you with much else than poorly restrained horror.
No, this woman was different, she seemed as though she could care less about the azure hue of your skin or the fangs that had ripped into the flesh of many a sacrifice before; she had only come for business, not to ogle at the spectacle of your mutation. Your smirk widened as you watched her, eyes flickering briefly to the guard posted at your door, nodding your head for him to leave.
“I was wondering when I would have the pleasure of seeing the lovely Black Widow. I’m shocked that you have the audacity to seek me out again after what you pulled.” You leaned forward onto your desk, hands folded neatly below your chin as you rested your weight onto your elbows. Unwrapping your tail from your seat, you gestured it towards the empty chair seated in front of your desk, giving the assassin an expectant look. She sat down quickly, her shoulders squared as her gaze pierced into you; emerald green burning with the color of envy. The intensity of the look would’ve made a lesser woman cower.
You have never been the lesser woman, why start now?
Charming grin met disinterested stare as the Black Widow finally spoke up, and it was then you had begun to understand why she was described as enthralling. A Russian accent coated her words like a warm honey, it would’ve lured you in had it not been for the circumstances surrounding this meeting. “It isn’t audacity, so how about we skip the smooth talk and get to the reason that I’m here.” Chuckling, you shook your head in faux disbelief, the sound rumbling through the air. “Ah Ms Romanova, still so cocky even after all of our time together. Its cute really.” A dark haze began to rise from your seat as you spoke, the scent of sulfur tainting the air as you licked over your teeth. The redhead had been a thorn in your side for months now; shipments had been halted and sacrifices had been slower coming as of late. You’ve had to remind the people under your protection exactly what they were paying for more than once recently. Raising an eyebrow, you waited for Natalia to continue the conversation, sighing in slight disappointment when the assassin remained silent.
So this was the game that Natalia wanted to play? No matter, you’ll get her to break. You always do. You sighed out slowly, your eyes lazily trailing over her seated form as you kicked your legs onto your desk, your body turned slightly to the side in your chair. “Do you know how difficult you’ve been making things for me Natalia? I thought we knew each other better than that….” It was a lie of course, hell you only learned her name from a piece of information one of your men had stumbled upon while supervising a delivery. You had only spoken to the spy through business transactions through which you ended up paying her idiot of a boss off to stay the hell away from your territory. Clearly either you didn’t pay him enough or the man was a fool, your mind rested firmly on the latter. The red-head scoffed, placing a hand on the desktop to rest; a distraction, you thought, she was reaching for something. “We don’t know each other at all, L/n. I suggest you drop the act before I change my mind on the orders given to me.”
You laughed at that, making slightly bewildered eye contact with her. “Natalia please, you know you can't kill me. Why even try?” Your eyes twinkled at the thought of an attempt, the sulfurous haze rising yet again. How long had it been since the last attempt on your life? The last you could remember was when a sacrifice was brave enough to believe a knife would save her. It was a shame you had to bury it into her chest, she was gorgeous. Her valor would have made her an excellent member of your organization, had she not wasted it on such a futile stunt. No matter, that attempt had ended the same as they always do.
Maybe this one would be a bit more interesting. Then again, if the Black Widow wanted you dead, you likely would have been by now.
Your confidence made the red-heads cool demeanor falter, jaw setting in frustration. You chuckled at that; she wasn’t where you wanted her but, you’d get her there. “There’s no act cariña, I’m simply waiting for you to explain why Dreykov is having his spiders harass my cargo. He has enough people to run his operation. I don’t see why he feels the need to take from mine.” As you spoke, Natalia couldn’t help but think of how you worded things in such a sterile manner. Cargo was far too innocent of a word to describe what you dealt in, even as a killer Natalia knew this. To refer to blood and the organs that sustain it as cargo was almost cruel, to refer to the corpses who carried the blood and entrails as cargo was demonic. But, that was what you were wasn’t it? Dreykov’s interest in the corpses was overshadowed by a general desire to see himself at the top, and if that meant halting your shipments, then so be it.
“He is not taking from your living, I don’t see the harm in missing a few bodies from your pile.”
Your face twisted into a grimace, irritation and a dampened anger practically blazing behind your eyes. Is that all she thought this was? Some pile of bodies that you used for god knows what? The thought of such a waste in resources made your blood boil. Your cargo was more than a shipment of cadavers, you refused to have your international deliveries, the lives you’ve saved, the money you’ve earned, be reduced to some form of mortuary obsession.
You should kill her where she sat, have one of your men prepare her for the altar- no. That would be a waste of the woman known as Natalia Romanova, you could use her far better elsewhere. Taking a deep breath, you repositioned yourself in your seat, staring directly into the eyes of the woman sitting across from you.
As green met the pupiless expense of your eyes, Natalia began to understand why so many people found you physically appealing. As physically off-putting as your infernal traits should be, there was a certain softness to the edge that surrounded your features. If she stared for long enough she could make out just a hint of blue fur coating your face, almost like the fuzz of a peach. Had it been under different circumstances this meeting could have even been pleasant, but Natalia had a job to do, orders to listen to, a home to return to. If she was reading the anger etched onto your face correctly, and she knew that she was, her description of your business had struck a bit of a nerve.
Good.
“You may not see the harm, but my clientele does. Not only is Dreykov fucking with my business, but hes fucking with my people. Last I checked, my shipment guards wound up disappearing with my cargo.” Your tail flicked with an animosity of its own, a livewire attached to your body. Standing up, the low lighting of the office shadowed your face, your eyes practically glowing as you glared down at the spy. Her neutral expression followed you up, a slight raise to her eyebrows in challenge. Clenching and unclenching your fists, you put a special sort of venom into your next words.
“I only have so much time in my schedule to dedicate to my followers, and you of all people should know how long it takes to brainwash someone.” A tensing of shoulders and jaw from the redhead eased a smirk back onto your face, yes. You knew what to do now. Taking a step backward you allowed yourself to fade into the dimension of smoke and brimstone, the world disappearing for a moment until you reappeared in the dimension you belonged to; this time, you found yourself leaning over the back of the assassin’s chair. Tracing your hands carefully down her arms, you felt her muscles tense as your fingers danced across them.
“That's right, you would know wouldn't you? That must've been difficult for such a young girl.”
Natalia’s hands quickly grabbed her pistol, her body whipping around to face you; only to be met with a cloud of smoke as you danced through dimensions and appeared behind her yet again. The room filled with the smell of sulfur, your laugh waltzing along the dark clouds created by your power. This time your fingertips traced along her jaw, her hand reaching over to grab at your body in retaliation. Before she could touch your skin, you disappeared into smoke yet again, your voice echoing on the residue.
“You want more from life don't you? More than just killing and hiding in the shadows like a dog?”
A flash of light and the ringing of a gunshot hit the air, the bullet lodging itself into a wall as you teleport away.
“Dreykov doesn’t take very good care of you does he? Ripping you girls away from your lives.”
Another shot
“From your families”
A shuddering breath, a flash of metal as she switches from a pistol to a combat knife once holstered on the spy-suit’s thigh.
“Making you into machines, into monsters.”
Over and over Natalia made attempts to touch you, grab you, harm you, anything to shut you up, prevent you from speaking again. Over and over she failed to touch you, your body always just out of reach of her blade, of her hands, until finally she met her mark, blade piercing into the warm flesh of your palm. A silver edge now coated in crimson stood from the back of your hand, the cool metal of the hilt pressed against your palm as you held it there. You and Natalia stood as if frozen, wild eyes switching from your bloodied palm to the calm smile on your face as you stepped closer to her. Cupping her jaw, you watched as Natalia’s pupils shrink, your ears just barely picked up on a change in her breathing. Leaning into her, you allowed for your body to press into hers just enough for there to be a light weight against her.
There was no need to overwhelm the assassin after all, not when she had fought so hard for her prize. Not when she looked like that, all heavy breathes and ferocious glares as she stood under you.
“I understand what it’s like to be a monster, cariña. I know that deep down you aren't one.” You took a step back, gently grabbing her wrist in an effort to release the knife from her grip. You felt resistance, the Black Widow was not one to fall for such petty tricks after all.
But they weren’t petty at all, were they?
Ripping the knife from your palm, Natalia shoved you away, sweeping your leg quick after to take you to the ground. This time you allowed it, falling onto your back and giving no resistance as her boot was forced into your sternum. The look in the assassin’s eyes almost made you laugh as she pointed the gun to your head, her pupils still hadn’t fully gone back to normal.
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now.”
Her hands were steady as she spoke, her finger tensed on the trigger. She could end it all right now, wipe that smug grin off of your damned face, all she has to do is pull the trigger-
The thoughts were interrupted by something long and prehensile wrapping around her leg, a sharp tip pointed at her thigh. Switching her gaze briefly, Natalia’s eyes were met with the sight of your tail wrapped around her calf, the tip swaying gently against the material of her suit. Turning her gaze back to your face, she watched as your eyes trailed over her one final time before answering. “If you killed me now, you wouldn’t have anyone to love you after you leave all of this behind.”
You reached your bloodied hand up, resting it on the side of her thigh as you unwrapped your tail from her leg. You knew she couldn’t kill you, you'd fade into nothingness before she could try, but the thought was still there. The thought was all you needed.
Holstering the gun, Natalia walked forward, the entirety of her weight resting on your sternum for a moment before she made her way to the door. As she walked away, you tilted your head back to see the bloody print of your hand on her thigh, the sight leaving as the door closed. You stayed on the floor, smiling to yourself in gleeful victory. Dreykov could attack your shipments, could kill your men, could interrupt the tributes of the people from reaching you, but he couldn’t stop Natalia from letting you live. Staring up into the ceiling, you began to laugh to yourself.
The thought was all you needed, and you were most certainly in the thoughts of the Black Widow.
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randomhumanoid512 · 2 years
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So @inkblot-inc I did it…
Yes that is a Jaws beanie because it’s Jaws
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feyhunter78 · 1 year
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Dearer than I?
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Description: You must choose between betraying your dear friend or your dearest love. Got bored during my last half hour of work, and that TikTok audio has been stuck in my head, so here's my attempt to purge it from my mind. Enjoy!!!
His hand is outstretched, patient but pleading, his eyes, dark and intense, but somehow still soft as sunlight settling on the ocean floor.
Your arms are wrapped around yourself, tight and desperate, attempting to keep yourself from metaphorically spilling onto the sand, a bloody mess of grief and regret, of anger and loss.
“Please in yakunaj.” His voice is a whisper, breaking at the end, and it feels as if someone has taken a spear and jammed it through your chest.
You want to look away, you’re desperate to, but cannot. His eyes always draw you back, he need not open his mouth to sing, you were ensnared by a single glance, by the kaleidoscope of warm colors weaved within his eyes.
The invisible thread that exists between you and him keeps you pinned in place. “I would be betraying Shuri, she is my friend, I owe her my life.”
“You would betray me, instead?” He asked, voice still soft, as if it would pain him to raise it.
You wished he would yell, scream, rage, do anything, be anything, but this soft broken K’uk’ulkan that stands before you.
You swallow hard, blinking away tears, your lips move but no sound escapes.
The waves crash on the shore, the nightbirds sing, the wind swirls between the two of you, and you take a step forward. Towards him, the man—the god—the mutant—whatever the hell he is, and he takes in a quick breath, chest expanding as you draw closer.
“I love you.” You manage to utter, your heart in a vice grip, the pressure of the choice you must make weighs so heavily upon you, and you wish to collapse, to drown, rather than make it.
“Then take my hand, burn the world with me.” He pleaded, the moonlight bathing him in her soft glow, shining off the gold he adorned himself with.
All his focus is on you, every flicker within his eyes, every rise and fall of his chest, every syllable that passes through those perfectly formed lips, is for you.
“I would be betraying Wakanda, the very country I left my home to protect, the one who embraced me even though I did not bear her blood.” You stressed, praying he would understand, that somehow, he would make the decision for you.
“And you believe Talkon would not do the same? That they would not welcome you with open arms, that my people would not rejoice in the fact that I have found my queen?” His fingers twitched as if he wished to take your hand, to press it to his heart as he often did when making silent promises.
“I didn’t say that—”
The anguish is clear in his low voice as he cuts you off. “You are mine, my queen, you have stolen my heart and held it captive within your chest. I cannot retrieve it without cracking open your ribs and ripping it out, and to do so—to do so would end me. I cannot fathom harming you in reina, do not force my hand, I beg of you.”
Tears slip down your cheeks, your heart pounds against your chest so strongly for a moment you think that perhaps he is right, his heart resides beside your own, for your heart never possessed such strength. “If I could return it to you, I would, K’uk’ulkan I would never wish you pain, never wish to force your hand.”
His tone is angry now, words sharp as the weapons his people favor, but his eyes remain swirling pools of grief. “I do not want it back, it is yours. I want you. I want the woman I love by my side, where I can protect her.”
You’re on the brink of sobbing, of falling to the sand and crying until your tears flow, so heavily you become one with the sea. “I cannot betray them; they are dear to me.”
His fingers curl inwards, slowly, mournfully. “Dearer than I?”
You shake your head, mind a whirlwind of choices, of answers, of guilt and grief, and want.
You want to be with K’uk’ulkan, you want to ease his pain, to smooth out the furrow of his brow, to sit by his side and be his queen. You are both immortal, if Talkon remained hidden, you would rule together for eternity.
“No, no one is dearer than you.” You admit, half-adoringly, half-helplessly.
You are helpless against the torrent that is your affections for him, helpless to the call of his heart to yours. He’s wrong, his heart does not reside within your chest, beside your own, for yours has slipped between the cracks of your ribs and into his own. He carries your heart as you carry his.
“Then I do not under—”
It’s your turn to cut him off. You take his hand, unfurling it, and bringing it to your cheek before you kiss him. Fervently, desperately, wishing to drown in him before your grief chokes you. “No one, there is no one dearer than you.” You assure him, willing your heart to return to your chest, to free him from this torment.
Your heart gives no answer except beating in time with his, two drums of war echoing each other’s call.
He cradles your cheek, his free arm wrapping around your waist, crushing you against him. “In reina, in reina, in reina.” He whispered over and over as he brushed soft, grateful kisses to every inch of your skin. “I love you, only you, I am yours.”
“I am yours, your queen.” You echo, letting him take you under, the world muffled by the sea.
You would not face Shuri, would not return to Wakanda until she was long dead, perhaps then you could seek forgiveness from her grave.
Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @starlady66
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chiscribbs · 6 months
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I had an idea for a one-off Rise episode plot and just wanted to quickly sketch up some visuals for it.
The plot goes as follows: Donnie attempts to invent a cloning machine and, due to some kind of science-y mishap, ends up cloning himself...a lot. But there's a catch to this - the clones aren't exact copies of Donnie, they each possess just ONE of the various facets of his personality (i.e. brainy, broody, sarcastic, passionate, dramatic, mischievous, etc.) and a small portion of his mystic powers. Don tries his darnedest to keep the whole situation under wraps while he searches for a way to fix it, but some of the more rambunctious Donnies quickly escape and begin stirring up trouble in the Lair, so it doesn't stay a secret for very long. To make matters worse - the real Donnie starts to slowly disappear (something having to do with his existence being divided among the Donnies or blahblahblah fake science explanation). So, while he and the scientist Donnies continue to look for a way to reverse the cloning effect, his brothers and Co. set to work gathering up all the other Donnies so they can put them back where they belong and keep Donnie Prime™ from vanishing.
Hilarity, wholesomeness (and some mild angst) ensues.
(Note: I meant to include April in that second-to-last image, but ran out of room. Just know that she, Splinter, and probably Casey Jr. are all there, as well.)
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eloisegrant · 2 years
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡:
𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐃𝐞 𝐥𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐲𝐚
Mutant!Oc, Filipino!OC, Marvel!OC
NOTE: Due to the lack of Filipino representation in Marvel comics, especially in the mutants catalogue, I decided to create my own. So please, enjoy this angst, action-filled and exciting opening to my original character, Sampaguita De La Hoya.
A lso, please feel free to insert yourself as Sampaguita.
WARNINGS: Swear words, mentions of drugs and alcohol, abuse, post-traumatic stress disorder,
TRANSLATIONS:
Ganda -> Beautiful
Kuya/Mang/Manong -> term for elder man or brother
Ano? -> What?
WORD COUNT: 3k
(Images are not mine, credit goes to the respective owners xx)
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𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
In the Philippines, certain families stay atop others. Certain individuals have more power and money, that was just how this system worked. Enter, Francisco De la Hoya. He was one of the most influential people in the country. Being the Governor of the city of Manila, meant he was the head honcho of any and all operations in this beautiful exotic country.
Second to only the President.
So when his beautiful daughter was bought into this world, it was only fitting for a gala to take place. Heaven on earth, that was what the aunts, uncles, guests and even common folk called their beautiful daughter.
She was an angel with the prettiest eyes, a fitting addition to the De la Hoya family. As such, the birth of new life is supposed to bring love, health and prosperity.
However, as the night grew darker and the party guests left. A worry-filled revelation came to their attention.
Within the airy halls of the De La Hoya mansion, the echoing murmurs of Francisco De la Hoya and his wife Kristina filled the air. Their family doctor was explaining the horrific discovery made in their 2 week old daughter’s DNA– a mutated form of a Homo-sapiens gene that has been renamed the X-gene.
“No it isn’t possible.” Francisco passes back and forth in his office, cigar in hand, pointing it to his wife to light it up with a lighter.
“She’s what we call a mutant, sir.” Doctor Malayo points at the documents on the table carefully. Kristina gasping in anguish, terrified that she had given birth to a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“What will the media say if they find out my daughter is one of those-” he exacerbates, “those things!” He slams his fists on his desk, causing the items to rattle. “Magnus, Mystique, Angel… that blasted brotherhood of demons! Those monstrous genetics running within my beautiful baby… It sounds like a joke.” A fumed Francisco runs his fingers through his raven hair.
“They won’t find out…” The doctor stands up and walks towards a large refrigerated case. Opening it, a loud click, a large bright light illuminating several vaccines.
“These are still in the testing phase, but have a 100% success rate.” The couple stare at the small man, prompting him to continue his statement. “It successfully suspends the x-gene for at least 24 hours.” He holds one of the small injections in his hands, “...thereby physically hiding her mutant gene.
“But she will still have the gene?” Kristina pleads to the physician, anxious and grieving at the realization that their life is no longer perfect.
“You will need to administer this vaccine everyday. On the dot, same time, same routine.” Doctor Malayo emphasizes every word. “She will have to believe it’s to keep her alive.”
Ethically speaking, this was a terrible arrangement. Injecting and forcing a child through unusual and downright dangerous substances, just to cover the truth. A las, the De la Hoya’s were willing to do anything to keep their pristine image, pristine.
Francisco and Kristina exchange glances as they hear their dear baby’s coos through the monitor. With a firm nod, they turn to Dr. Malayo, “Give us all you can get.” the patriarch demands.
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐀 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭
“Okay, ganda, this’ll just be a pinch and a burn.” Thea, an elder in house maid of the De la Hoya’s smiles at a now, 21 year old, Sampaguita
“Of course,” she sighs, pulling her sleeve up, “it always is.” she jokes around, rolling her eyes.
Thea could feel her chest clench at the sight of Sam’s arms, the shots would be delivered on either side of her arms, today was the right arm’s turn and it was a horrendous sight. Purple, green and blue veins, some nearly popping out of poor Sampaguita’s arm. The in-house helpers definitely felt bad about this entire situation, but they were on a paycheck.
Money was a difficult find, and they were all desperate for it. But, Thea may just not have the heart to go through with this.
“It just sucks that I have these illnesses you know like…” her words trail as she tries to remember what illness it was– all these shots were making her think woozy, making her paler than usual and made her weak.
Thea is quick to remind her of the fake illness they’ve strategically concocted for the girl, “Ms. Sam, it's for your blood deficiency, Anaemia… these vaccines are iron supplements…”
“Yes of course…” Sam sighs as the shot hits her shoulder for the nth time of her life. Had I just been born normal, I wouldn’t be like this. Poor Sam was just accustomed to the shots, but she still couldn’t accept it.
Thea removes the shot and places it in a metal dish, “Alright, ganda. You can go now.” She stands up, wiping her hands on her apron, “Goodluck today on your thesis defence!” She smiles at her resulting with a big smile coming from Sam’s lips.
Her small frame wears a long black leather cloak over her cream turtleneck, it’s November and Manila has been getting a little chilly. Her heeled footsteps echoed and trailed through the big oak hall, down the massive staircase approaching her father’s office right by the front door.
“Father… Mother…” She knocks shyly, “I’m off to college now.” Her hands do an awkward wave in order to get a little bit of a reaction from her parents.
All she gets is a look and a small nod from both of them, before looking back into their computers.
A deep sigh escapes her lips, they were never the supportive bunch, never even bothered starting a conversation or giving her any type of admiration— but they did provide her with all and more a girl her age could ask for. Nevertheless, she had an important day today and that couldn’t be overshadowed by her petty emotions and issues with mommy and daddy.
Fernando, their driver, opens the main door and readily offers to drive the only child to her college, “Thank you Mang Nando but, I’m feeling confident about today and…” she takes the keys from the man’s hands, “I’ll be driving myself!” She cheerfully squeals, running to her car.
What her parents lacked in emotional support they gave back with material things. Sam’s car was the newest Land Cruiser in the classical pearl white, a 21 year old having such things was seen as a little bit of a splurge on their end.
As Sam settled into her seat her phone vibrated, Rodrigo- the caller ID stated.
With a sigh, she starts the car and answers the call through the infotainment system.
“Sammy?” Her friend’s careful voice beamed through the car speakers.
“Ano? What do you want Rodrigo? I’m about to drive.” She buckles her belt and puts the car into drive. Rodrigo had always been a pain in the ass, but Sam loved him for it. They have been friends since the first days of elementary school, so their bond was a very irreplaceable one.
“Ah well I won’t distract you too much…” his breathlessness was abundant, maybe he was running down the halls. “Just called to let you know that you’re after 5 more people so… You’re safe.” He warns Sam causing her to smile as she exits their mansion’s front gate.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Her hands clasp the wheel as she makes a hard turn onto the main road. With that, the phone call ends.
The drive was normal, it was supposed to be normal. Heck, it was not a complicated road to drive through. However a growing interruption began to take wing a few minutes in.
Sam’s eyes begin to twitch as she reaches the first stoplight, a little weird for it to happen but she pushes on. It's probably my allergies. Pressing the gas, her head feels a sudden weight, as if it was pushing down into her, causing her to pull the car to the side, the safest area for now. A traffic enforcer notices the abrupt halt of Sam’s car and approaches her window, knocking on it lightly.
With a soft squeak, Sam, breathless due to the sting she feels on her head, looks at the officer and presses the windows down. “Ma’am are you alright? You’re on the freeway.” He leans against the car.
Sam couldn’t even respond, her vision began to get brighter as her breathing began to get heavier.
“Ma’am? Do you need assistance?” He repeated to her, her whole body felt heavier than usual. Am I having a heart attack? Please… Not now.
The enforcer scratches the back of his head, confused with Sam’s irresponsiveness and begins to dial for help, “We’ll see to it that you’re kept safe, Ma’am, just a mome-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR A FUCKING SECOND!” She shouts at the top of her lungs, glancing to the front, shakily trying to regain power over her body. She half expected the guy to shout back or call for assistance from the other enforcers but heard nothing. Great, I offended the guy.
“Hey listen, Manong I didn’t mean to shout at you-” Her eyes looked back at the enforcer, who was standing impressively still. “Huh?”
She waves her hands in front of the man, “Kuya, don’t be so playful! I didn’t mean to freak out, you were just talking too much.” Exasperated, she tries to lighten the mood. But no, the enforcer was still frozen, impressively still. It almost looked like the guy was playing a joke but it took a fly landing on his hand for Sam to notice, he was really stopped in time.
She heavily breathes as she realises, even the cars surrounding her were in a halt. “What the actual-” Looking up from the sunroof of her car, a bird was also paused in motion. Her back pushes against the seat as she tries to understand what the actual hell was going on.
Were the avengers here? Am I dead? Is there a God? WHat tHE heLL iS HaPpEning??
Her fingers slowly massage her temples, trying to calm herself down and understand what was happening, “There is a perfectly logical explanation…” She bites her fingernails. “Why would the world just stop?” She plops her head down between her shoulders, “How do you fix this?” In a way to cope with this situation, Sam begins to joke around, “Ha, it's not like I can magically tell them to start moving again-” as the words came out of her mouth the enforcer and all the cars, birds, every single object and being, started to move again.
“Just a moment.” The enforcer completes his sentence causing Sam to get shocked at the situation. I… did… that???
“Kuya uhh… No need, please. I’m fine!” She smiles at the man, “See!” She puts two thumbs up to show the man that she was a-okay.
He tries to get a word in but Sam closes the window before she could even hear it.
As she speeds away she couldn’t help but twitch at every slightest sound, it was as if she could hear people’s thoughts, their breathing, the people’s footsteps meeting the pavement and how different shoes would resonate different sounds. To get her mind off of it, she turns on the radio but it blasts too loud causing her to accidentally press the gas a little too harshly.
“Putang-in-!?” She hits the brakes as quickly as possible, upon seeing a group of people crossing the street. Her eyes make their way to look at the volume of the music.
6.
WHAT
DO
YOU
MEAN
SIX!!?
That nearly blew off her eardrums and the sound system was just at SIX? If the world doesn’t begin making any freaking sense she is gonna lose it. Just as she pushes on the gas she spots a pharmacy and decides to parallel park quickly to grab some sort of calming syrup. Something that would calm down her thoughts and just mellow her down for a bit… isn’t that just liquor? Ah, anyhow, she was going to get something to calm her nerves.
Placing the car onto a brake, she leaves swiftly and runs inside the pharmacy, “Hi, umm..” She places her hands on the counter, “Do you have anything to calm a person down, something fast acting and easy?” She jitters between her two toes.
The pharmacist smiles and looks at Sam up and down, “You mean something like liquor?” She distastefully responds.
“No, miss. Medicine.” Her voice was stern and irritated. Sam wasn’t about to deal with this woman’s jokes right now, even if she’s literally shaking with every word, looking like a druggie.
“Well we don’t think you should get some given your…” There the pharmacist was again eyeing her up and down, “...condition.”
Before Sam could respond she heard a thought, literally.
‘How embarrassing.. These kids just do drugs left and right, no care in the world.’
“I’m not a druggie!” She screams upon hearing the thought, “Shut the fuck up and give me something to calm me down!” Her scream causes the woman to fly back to the organized shelves of medicine. The mere voice erupting from Sam’s lips caused what seemed to be a localized earthquake.
Scared and confused, the woman grabs ‘calming pills’ that were purely herbal, “He-here, don’t even pay! Please! Get out!” Sam immediately grabs the box and panics, shuffling out of the pharmacy.
Gaining a few judgemental glances from the elderly people along the aisles, she storms out of the pharmacy to her car.
Just then, Rodrigo rings her up yet again through the car.
“RODRIGO PLEASE!” She grabs her flask and takes 3 herbal calming pills at once, willing to do any and everything to mask this sensation. “I AM NOT OKAY RIGHT NOW.” Quickly, she maneuvers the car back to the road, trying her hardest not to crash into something.
“I’m sorry, so sorry, Sam! It’s just because you’re up after 2 more…” Rodrigo’s nervous voice panicked at both Sam’s angry voice and her thesis defence.
She ends the call, rather than continuing the conversation. Whatever was happening was much more important than this fucking thesis.
Her eyes finally adjusted and cleared back up, making a U-turn back towards her house.
->
Mr. And Mrs. De la Hoya weren’t expecting anything major to happen this day. With his upcoming announcement to run for president, he was too focused on the paperwork.
So they definitely didn’t expect their daughter to barge through the house, panicking and in tears.
“Kuya! Ate! Help me please!” Sam supports herself onto the nearby long table by the foyer. Trembling, Shaky, panicky and terrified. “Please!” Her abrupt tone made Thea and Nando rush to her side, as well as the other household maids.
They rushfully supported her, bringing her to the living room. Causing her parents to follow and observe the situation that was unfolding. Not out of care for her but rather for themselves.
“What’s wrong Miss Sam? Can you breathe properly?” Lily, another housekeeper, grabs a cold pack of ice placing it on Sam’s forehead.
She couldn’t understand why but the sensation of the ice made her forehead twinge and made her scream at a guttaral level. “STOP!”
Her voice, causing the numerous people surrounding her to fly to the opposite sides of the room. The couch she was on slid as well to the far end of the living room.
Francisco and Kristina were taken aback, covering their faces with their arms at Sam’s ridiculous gesture. Fearing the worst, they were worried that the vaccines she has been receiving were no longer working. Or someone chose to keep her from the dosage.
Some of the housekeepers were injured slightly, refusing to stand up. But older maids like Thea, rushed to Sam– still a bit cautious.
“Sampaguita!” It seemed like a miracle for her father to call her name out like that. Like it has never been an action anyone in the household was used to.
Her father’s voice made her trembling calm down, a mix of confusion and fear across her face. “Did you give her the dosage!?” He directs his questioning towards Thea.
“I-I did!” Thea nearly breaks into tears from the demanding voice of Francisco. Unfortunately, he did not believe a single word that came from her mouth.
“Marites, get Sampaguita’s medical basin!” He orders another maid, who rushfully heads up the stairs. His gaze never leaving Thea who was trembling by Sam’s feet.
“Father, don't punish Thea! She gave me the vaccine!” Sam protests, her voice causes another, milder rumble to boom through the house.
He shushes her by narrowing his eyes to her direction.
Marites held in hand a vaccine that had most of its remains in. Causing Francisco to shake his head, gently walking towards Thea before smacking her face with his backhand.
“FATHER!” Sam defends the old maid by standing between her and her father. “So I don’t get the vaccine today, why punish Miss Thea?”
Francisco shakes his head as he looks down to his daughter, “It’s more complicated than just that, Sam.”
She wasn’t interested in banter but rather just getting to the bottom of all this. Why she was exhibiting such abilities, why Thea missing a vaccine was so threatening and why this has been the most conversation her and her father have had.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
The room fell silent. Nobody was willing to say another word. If Sampaguita found out that she was being medically and physically abused all throughout her life; they would be facing several issues.
Her disappointment, her pain, her fury and her powers. What exactly were they and how would they impact all of them?
“You might want to sit down…”
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russosafehaven · 1 year
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Save Me
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Title: Save Me
Pairings: Billy Russo x Mutant!Rawlins!Reader
Warnings: Torture, Canon Typical Violence, Mutant!Reader, Sexual Assault (Mentioned), GN!Reader
Word Count: 3576
Billy Russo Taglist: @snowkestrel
~
He gave you a warm smile before placing his lips to your temple. Small tendrils start crawling up his legs, tugging him closer to you. As he looked down you followed his gaze. Blushing before turning around and going back to covering the toast in a layer of cinnamon sugar. Strong arms wrapped around your waist and a head pressed into your neck.
“Your monitor went off like fucking crazy. I was in the area, wanted to check up on you. Tell me what happened little ghost”
Little ghost. Something this man had called you since he discovered your ability to phase through walls and go invisible. He found you a being of beauty while you found yourself a monster.
Nightmare, back in the lab. Wanted Billy” Your voice was quiet and desperate. He turned you around and pulled your face towards him. His gaze was harsh and yet so soft. Full of need and want.
“I’m here now. How about we finish your snack and then we go to the unliving room. Put on one of your shows”
Unliving room, another thing he joked about. To him you were the incarnation of the unliving, a gateway to the dead. Your shadows were morbid beauty and he loved every moment of it. So he started calling living rooms ‘unliving’ around you. A small nod later and Billy helped you cover the toast with the cinnamon sugar. Dipping his finger in and bringing it to his mouth to taste. When you were finished he took you to the lounge room taking a seat on your couch. It was an old design, something almost victorian to match the rest of the house.
“What shall we watch little ghost? Friends, Brooklyn 99, Parks and Rec, Modern Family. Take your pick baby”
His arms snaked around you, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. He was your sun, your north star. You knew every murder, every kill, every sin he had committed but around you he was brighter than light itself. He lit up your world and was your absolute everything.
“Modern Family please Billy”
His lips pressed onto the top of your head. He opened up Disney+ and found Modern Family in your recently watched. The two of you loved watching it together, Billy having grown up in a group home and you being in your situation. Together you imagined what life would be like if you lived somewhat average lives. Would you have ever met each other? Or would you be strangers?
Alright here we go, while we’re here I found a way I might be able to take Rawlin’s down” You took the remote from Billy’s grip. Pausing the episode. The plate collided with the table as you placed it down and you turned over to straddled Billy.
“How? Billy how? You can save me?”
You stared into his eyes. Waiting for a response. A chance to be free was what you had wanted for years. Now you had Billy to go to, you craved it more. The day you met Billy was one of your favourites. Even if the memory stung.
~ “You are nothing but a fucking weapon you understand me?!”
A knife ripped into your thigh, pulling through the skin. Your father had brought you on what he said was a work trip. Only he just wanted to use you as a ploy. Colonel Bennet was torturing you while your father watched. Waiting for you to react.
“Fucking stupid little mutant cunt can’t even understand that. You are nothing without us you understand? That’s why you were sold to us”
A punch to your jaw. Rage boiled underneath your skin. Shadows started to crawl up the colonels legs as you retaliated. Your father stood silent in the corner, the patch covering his eye still stained with blood. You remember watching it being punched out. A rough mission and he spewed bullshit to the men who were hanging by threads. One of the lieutenants punched him, almost killing him. You wish he had succeeded. Maybe then you’d be free, on the streets sure. It was better than nothing.
“There they are”
A scream erupted from your throat and you pulled yourself from your binds. The rope fell to the ground as you launched at the colonel. You punched him, holding him to the ground with your shadows. He tried to fight back but his punches just went through your body. In the corner of your vision you see your father dip out of the tent. You continued throwing punches and a shadow wrapped around his throat, slowly beginning to choke him. Before he could pass out you were pulled off of him.
“Maybe next time you’ll be useful in the field”
Your father spat the words out at you and left you alone with the man who pulled you off of Bennet. Tears welled in your eyes and you wiped them with the dirty rag you wore on your body. A hand cupped your face and you looked up to see a handsome man. His eyes were a gorgeous dark brown, almost black. His hair was the same shade and slicked back to perfection.
“Lieutenant Billy Russo, take it you’re the secret weapon Agent Orange is always mentioning”
He wiped your tears as he spoke and you nodded in return. Small hiccups started to fill the awkward silence. Billy chuckled at the sounds you made as you tried to cover your mouth. He pulled your hand away and wrapped you in his arms.
“It’s okay. This shit is almost over, I don’t know what Agent Orange is gonna do with you. Something fucking fragile as you shouldn’t have to deal with this…”
He trailed off pushing you away and looking at you in a whole. Scars ran up and down your body, some were self inflicted and some were from torture sessions or experiments from Stryker. You watched as the Lieutenants eyes opened wide. He went to say something but was distracted from the fabric divider opening again. You hugged yourself in an attempt to hide. It was a survival mechanism, make yourself as small and possible.
“Hey Bill, mail got passed-“
The man stopped talking and Billy’s arms left you. Trembling slightly you reached out for one of his arms. Clutching at the rough material of his uniform his body turned back to you. A small grin crossed his face as he held out an arm to you, letting you hold onto it. He looked back at the other man. Frankie… shit man. Agent Orange, this is the weapon he’s always talking about”
The man, Frankie, steps closer to you and Billy. The fear causes you to inch closer to Billy, using him as a shield. Over the years you had developed a fear of men. Stryker experimenting you in your childhood, the men who had assaulted you, Bennet and your father. You didn’t trust them easily. You didn’t understand why Billy felt different, he seemed so warm. Didn’t act violent towards you, he was gentle and sweet. His dark eyes had this odd warmth to them.
“Jesus fuck… that’s a kid. What kinda sick shit is this?”
You flinched at Frankie’s swearing. They both had picked it up as Billy wrapped a hand around you. The other man had knelt down, passing a letter to Billy and reaching a hand out to you.
“Hey kid, my names Frank. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m gonna help Bill get you out of this mess okay?”
~
“Yeah I can save you. Get you out of here and take you to see Frankie and his family. You’d love the kids, bet they’d love you too. I can show you so many places baby”
You smiled at the prospect. Being with Billy out in the open sounded like a dream come true. You looked up at him and grinned. He reached down and placed a kiss to your lips.
“I know it sounds real exciting. There’s this guy Frankie found. Ex-NSA analyst or some shit like that. Anyways he’s found enough proof on Rawlin’s and what happened in Kandahar. Asshole even managed to pull some of your records. For it to work you’re gonna need to testify. Now I know it’s a lot, but just think about it”
As soon as he finished you nodded furiously. You didn’t care what you’d have to do as long as it meant that you could be with Billy. It took a few weeks for Billy to set everything up. When he told you that you were set to testify he had pulled up in his Rolls Royce. A woman with brown hair in soft curls stepping out of the passenger seat. You watched as the two of them made their way to the front door. Listening for the click of Billy’s key as it was unlocked.
“Little ghost, I’m here to get you ready” You ran over to Billy, wrapping your arms and a few shadow tendrils around him. Holding him firmly he returned the favour and placed a gentle kiss to your head. Mumbling out a small ‘mine’ he chuckled. As he peeled you away he turned you to face the woman.
“This is Maria, Frankie’s wife. She’s here so we can help you look a bit more presentable for court. Not that you don’t look great in my boxers and that shirt, but that won’t go over so well with the judge”
He gave you a smirk and you waved to Maria. She pulled something out of the bag that was on her shoulder and held it out to you. In her palm was a chain necklace with two dog tags on them. You picked them up and flipped them over, they read Billy’s name. His information engraved on them.
“Frank and Billy, well they always stored their military things together. When Bill here told us about you and that he’d be needing my help, I thought you’d like them. So when you’re up ok the stand a part of him is there with you”
You looked up at Billy who’s mouth was hung open. He hadn’t known Maria was doing this and he couldn’t help but ache in gratitude. Pulling them over your neck, you inched towards Maria. Shyly giving her a hug in thanks. She returned it and gave you a gentle squeeze, the way Billy does. It made you wonder how much he spoke about you. As she let you go, a warm smile graced her features. Her eyes lit up with a motherly glow that you hadn’t ever felt. Billy pulled you back to him and led the two of you to the unliving room. From the bag, Maria pulled out a range of items. Makeup, hair brushes, several outfit options and some jewellery. Everything looked so delicate and fragile. You looked up at Billy who stood behind the couch you were seated on with Maria next to you. He had this sly look in his eyes and it made you giggle.
“Let’s start with your hair shall we?”
Maria’s voice filled you with joy. She had this aura of love around her that you couldn’t describe. Billy must have noticed how comfortable you felt as he had left the room and was walking around in the kitchen.
~ You sat uncomfortably on the stand. Someone held a bible out to you, gesturing to hold your hand on it.
“Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?”
You nodded, hoping it was the right thing to do. The judge made a motion and the lawyer helping Billy, Foggy, stood up and walked over to you.
“Can you state your name for the record please?”
He looked at you, shooting you a comforting smile. Before going in he and his partner, Matt, introduced themselves to you. Although you felt a closer connection to Karen she was just their paralegal and wouldn’t be questioning you. So it was imperative that you felt safe with Foggy and Matt. You repeated your name and from the table you see Billy raise his hand into a thumbs up.
“How long have you know Agent Rawlin’s?” You took a deep breath in. Knowing what was about to come. Maria and Billy prepped you for this moment, asking questions that you might be asked, teaching you how to maintain eye contact if needed and whatever else.
“I’m unaware of the time frame as when I was sold to William Rawlins, he did not allow me access to a clock of any kind. All I know is that I was around 12 years old when he brought me and I’ve been with him since then”
Foggy gave a curt nod and you took another deep breath. Your entire life was about to be on display for the world to see. This case would change the minds of how people viewed the CIA and you knew it. Billy had told you that most of the time they’d try to cover it up by payouts or whatever else. However they fought tooth and nail to take this to court. Just like Frank and Billy promised you when they first saw you.
“So he brought you and then kept you unaware of the passage of time?” You gave the blonde man a firm nod. He started to make his way over to the jury, facing them as he spoke.
“Are you aware why William Rawlins brought you?”
You took a breath, fiddling with the fabric of your garments. Your life was about to be on display for the world to see.
~
After the session had ended, the jury found Rawlins guilty and served him 30 life sentences in the Raft. You had run into Billy’s arms whispering an abundance of thank you’s. When Matt and Foggy walked over you gave each of them a hug too. In the short time you’d known them, you’d decided they were trustworthy. A friend of Billy’s was a friend of yours. The two men were pleasant to see you light up as loud as you did. When Rawlins was brought out in cuffs he’d tried to get to you, but Frank had stood in front of you with Billy holding your shoulders from behind.
Billy held your hand, walking you out of the building and to his car. His Rolls Royce Wraith, his prized possession since he had opened ANVIL. Frank and Maria had followed the two of you, the two former marines discussing something as Maria stood in front of you. She held out her arms and pulled you into a hug.
“You did absolutely amazing. Can’t imagine how that must have been for you darling. It’s all over now, Billy’s actually thinking about you two staying with me and Frank for a few days. How does that sound?”
You looked up at Maria, the way she so gently called you darling made your heart flutter. You didn’t know how many years older than you she was, but she took on that maternal role you lacked. She had noticed the way you looked at her like that and accepted the role, treating you like a little sister. Nodding eagerly, she smiled and wrapped an arm around you. Trotting you over the Billy and Frank who were having their own playful spat. Maria told Billy that you were fond of the idea and he nodded, pulling you in by the waist for a hug.
Billy walked you around to the passenger seat of his car, opening it for you and helping you climb in. You looked down, unsure what to do. You heard him let out a small chuckle before pinning you in with the seatbelt, explaining it to you like you were a small child. In some ways you were, your years in captivity had left you so unaware of basic experiences that it made sense for Billy to see you as a child.
You listened as Frank and Maria climbed into the back seat, talking with one another. As Billy pulled out you stared out the window. This was the first time you were experiencing New York and you were already in love with it. You smiled giddily like a little kid who just got candy as the buildings swam past. A hand reached over to you thigh, rubbing it and you look over to meet Billy. He shoot’s you a smile and you can’t help but fall against his shoulder. Rubbing into him like a cat. From behind you a chuckle escapes from Franks lips.
“Billy the Beaut wrapped for a girl, never thought I’d see the day”
You turned around and shot Frank a questioning look. Billy’s hand shot out to hit Frank on the knee, his eyes trained in the road.
“Back in the day Bill here was flirting with anything that could move. Men and women, left and right. That day in Kandahar when I saw him with you, shit kid. That was the first time he got emotional with someone other then me and Maria. You woke something up in my boy here and even if it was in shitty circumstances, I’m glad he met you”
Heat rushed to your cheeks and you look back out your window. Trying to hide your embarrassment. Conversation was made for another forty minutes until you were pulling up in a houses driveway. It was a little ways out of the city and in a nice area. The other three got out of the car and your door was opened by Maria. She offered you a hand and you took it.
“Welcome to our home darling, can’t wait for you to meet Lisa and Junior. They’re gonna love you”
She passed you off to Billy who led you inside. This was your new life and you couldn’t be happier. All those years of torture and restraint were gone. You had Billy, Maria, Frank and soon enough you’d have a niece and a nephew, or so Maria told you to call them. Things had changed for the better all to the help of two lieutenants, a housewife, two pro-bono lawyers and a former NSA analyst who helped hack into Rawlins files.
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inkblot-inc · 1 year
Text
Sisters
Summary: [JAWS AU] Simply a little addendum I have around Jaws meeting Yelena (timeline wise, also known as the Black Widow Alternate). The brain's whirring right now aight- (first arc)
Pairing(s): Natasha Romanoff x Mutant!TigerShark!Reader, Mutant!TigerShark!Reader x Yelena Belova (platonic)
[JAWS AU Masterlist]
Warning(s): none that I can think of, maybe a language warning? Yeah we'll put that just in case
Note(s): There isn't any real dialogue here since this is more of my stream of consciousness to fill in some timeline details. Not really proofread cuz I'm really just talkin through text to speech and skimming for spelling errors💀. Hopefully it makes sense/is coherent at least, but since I was thinkin about this stuff, I’ll just add it to my list of dissertations o7
Word Count: more than 700, I know that much
*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit
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Alright lets' go Black Widow Alternate!
(That really just means I'm talkin about how the events of Black Widow go down in the JAWS AU....at least the pertinent details. i.e What happens when we deviate from canon blah blah blah)
Because Civil War doesn't happen in the JAWS AU, The Avengers are still together as a team and are able to take down the Red Room in the original way Yelena intended (“I kept checking the news, expecting to see Captain America bringing down the Red Room” but that actually happens here). This still serves as Natasha and Yelena's reunion as they get in contact with each other via the pictures Yelena sent.
Because Natasha isn't on the run (again, no CW = no accords...atm, and no Ross), she's not really stressed in that way. Natasha more so has to grapple with her own guilt at leaving her sister behind to go through life in the Red Room without her to look after her and even not trying hard enough to look for Yelena after getting out.
Natasha tried not to look back after Budapest, remember now.
Natasha tries to deflect and justify this in her own mind by trying to detach herself and saying that she and Yelena were never really sisters, just like how they were never really a part of a family with Melina and Alexei.
It was just a mission.
Natasha continues trying to push the narrative that her years in Ohio are in her past and that she couldn't wait to put them behind her to forget them when she got out. Natasha doesn't actually believe any of this. Those years spent with Yelena, Melina, and Alexei were very real to Natasha and she looks back on those times with fondness and regret they couldn't have lasted longer. However, Natasha is of the school of thought that if you say something enough times, maybe you'll start to believe it. Maybe.
Yelena immediately calls bullshit on Natasha's "I'm allergic to you" attitude, but it doesn't make Natasha's attempts hurt any less. To be so close again but treated like something other. Natasha's continued trying to push her out of her life is what gets to Yelena, that paired with seeing the people in Natasha's "present" makes Yelena self-conscious in ways that make her uncomfortable and that she usually deflects with humor and sarcasm.
It's Jaws that continues to reach out to Yelena. Not in the traditional sense, but they've taken to including Yelena and going out of their comfort zone to get to know Yelena during the red room mission (very similar scene to the Yelena and Nat beer scene talking about their lives). Yelena was protective and just a bit teasing when she found out that Jaws was Natasha's partner for sure. The ice breaker between Jaws and Yelena boiled down to Yelena doing a trick shot off of Jaws' teeth into a vodka bottle....with a bullet.
Whether or not Yelena thought she would kill Jaws by shooting them in the mouth is up for discussion...
Part of Jaws' interest in Yelena is because she is in some way part of Natasha's life, and even they can tell that Yelena is important to her without a doubt. The other part of Jaws cultivates this relationship with Yelena because she passes the vibe check, and not once has she referred to Jaws as a freak or a monster, which is what usually happens when people meet Jaws for the first time. Yelena couldn't care less about it. Wildly intrigued for both the right and the wrong reasons, but still-
Natasha seeing her "past" and "present" coexisting together pushes her to face her own feelings of guilt and even inadequacy head on (thinking of the " It was real to me too" scene) to repair and rebuild her bond with her little sister. Natasha also apologizes for not looking for her after she escaped the Red Room and trying to reduce her time with Yelena to a bad memory she kept trying to forget.
Yelena's focus afterward is freeing the remaining widows, of which she knows she can ask for her sisters and the avengers help. She is undecided whether or not she wants to officially become an avenger, but it is not off the table. Yelena and Jaws have become close over the course of the red room mission and even after, which makes Natasha very happy.
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