![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tigriswolfTitle: Bless me now with your fierce tears
Fandom: Marvel movies
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Dylan Thomas
Warnings: violence, death, Red Room horrors
Pairings: implied Steve/Bucky
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 360
Point of view: third
Prompt: any, any, she'd like to know her own origin story
She was not born in 1984. That is all she knows for sure.
.
No. It's not. There's more.
.
Her mother named her Natalia. Called her little spark. Told her to burn.
There is much that has been stolen from her. She knows that.
.
Her hands are stained with blood. She knows that, too.
.
He smiled at her, the one they called her teacher. He smiled at her and showed her the best way to kill.
There is the clean way, he said, the quick way. He glanced toward the window because there were always watchers. We won't be allowed to use it, often, he said.
But, he added, softly, his flesh hand warm her on her cheek as he cupped her face, his silver hand firm on her arm, holding her in place as he showed where and how to cut, when you kill for yourself, do it quickly and cleanly.
She never saw him again, after that day.
Not until Odessa.
.
She was not born in 1984.
.
He smiled at her, the one sent to kill her. He offered her a choice.
She could’ve killed him. Easily.
She could’ve taken everything she learned and sold it to the highest bidder.
Instead, she allowed them to shackle her and told them secrets.
Instead, she took what others had made her and turned into a weapon for herself.
Her hands were stained red with blood and she’d like to wash some of it out.
.
She should have known. Pierce’s smile was a familiar.
.
Her mother named her Natalia and told her to burn.
.
They find Steve on the riverbank. Alive.
.
He never called her anything, her teacher.
She loved him the way children love. He was kind. He was strong.
He once broke the neck of a doctor whose hand drifted to Yelena’s budding breasts. (Yelena. She’d forgotten. No. It was stolen.)
She loved him.
Steve still does.
.
Her mother named her Natalia. She chose Natasha.
Who is she with no masks?
.
There is one debt left.
.
“What are you doing?” Clint asks as she pushes him back into the apartment.
“You need to rest up,” she tells him. “We’ve got work to do.”
Title: time will ease your pain
Fandom: Marvel movies
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Patty Loveless
Warnings: spoilers for Cap2
Pairings: Steve/Bucky
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 200
Point of view: third
Prompt: any. any/any
if my voice could reach back through the past
I'd whisper in your ear:
"Oh darling, I wish you were here"
He's fighting an alien army from outer space and twelve days ago, Bucky fell off a train.
He's visiting Peggy and leaving flowers at memorials and reading names on gravestones and three months ago, Bucky fell off a train.
He's living in DC and running every morning till he can't breathe, and nine months ago, Bucky fell off a train.
He's going on missions and fighting bad guys (at least, he's told they're bad) and a year ago, Bucky fell off a train.
He's going on missions and running every morning he can and watching Peggy forget, and 18 months ago, Bucky fell off a train.
He's watching an assassin rise to his feet and turn around, and a little over two years ago, Bucky fell off a train.
.
He prayed every night that Bucky would come back.
"… Bucky?"
But not like this.
"Who the hell is Bucky?"
.
Four years ago, they were curled up together on a too-small bed, talking about the future.
He prayed they'd be together forever.
.
He wakes up on a riverbank beat all to hell and Bucky is alive.
He breathes through the pain and it feels like his life has finally started again.
Title: Though it be Jacob’s voice, Esau’s, alas! are the hands
Fandom: DCU animated
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Longfellow
Warnings: AUish
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 180
Point of view: third
Prompt: DCU, Jason Todd+/Dick Grayson, Jason called
Three minutes to sunrise, he's gotta be up in less than an hour, and finally falls into bed.
His phone chirps. Of course it does.
Dick groans, rolling over to glare at his phone on the dresser, all the way across the room.
It could be important. He groans again as the phone chirps, letting him know he's got at least two texts. And then a third.
"Fine," he mutters, forcing himself to get up and stagger to the phone. He has to unlock the screen to read the messages for safety reasons and he comes to complete stop, about to collapse back onto the bed as he reads the first text.
I need your help.
Please.
Don’t tell Bruce.
Jason’s been back for less than a year and he has never contacted Dick first.
Dick glances at the window, where the first light of the morning is rising.
Where are you? he replies, and What do you need?
He fucked up majorly, before. They all did. Jason didn’t trust anyone enough to ask for help. He won’t make that mistake again.
Title: figures dancing gracefully across my memory
Fandom: Marvel movies
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: pre-canon through post-Avengers; implied bad things happening to children
Pairings: Natasha/Clint
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 345
Point of view: third
Prompt: MCU, Clint/Natasha, he doesn't have a clue where the SHIELD rumor came from that Natasha didn't have a lot of personal stuff she didn't use for work because moving her in to his place has just proved that rumor ludicrously wrong
Note: follows this
Clint keeps everything in its place because that's the easiest way to keep track of things. He's lost or left behind too many things over the years to take any of it for granted.
For some reason, though, everyone at SHIELD thinks he's messy. Maybe it's because he dresses comfortably when not on the job, or because his tiny little postage-stamp of a room is packed to exploding with stuff? Whatever. It's not like he actually lives there. And anything he keeps on-site is disposable, anyway.
Clint Barton is a nice guy but he doesn't trust anyone. He learned that the hard way.
.
Until Natasha.
.
He could have killed her from a mile away. She can kill him any time he steps into reach.
He brings her home, offers a dozen sound reasons for her continued survival, and plans how to save her and go to ground if Coulson, then Fury, then Fury's bosses decide to put her down.
.
Natasha has no belongings beyond her weapons. It’s not like Clint has much more than that himself, but she – well. He sees things that remind him of her, that he thinks she’d like, and he picks it up and brings it home. She always smiles a little confusedly and examines the thing or reads it or listens to it, and it’s just… Clint wishes he could go back in time and kill everyone who ever contributed to that adorable frown on her face as she looks at the spider full-body puppet.
“What is it?” she asks.
“It’s a toy,” he says.
.
Slowly, Natasha’s things migrate to Clint’s safehouse. SHIELD doesn’t know about it because he trusts Natasha but nobody else. (And a lot of them would call that stupid, but whatever. He knows people. He’s learned the hard way.)
Clint gets a dog that’s as hard-worn as he is. Natasha comes home with a stray cat.
The safehouse is home in a way nothing else ever has been.
.
Clint’s things still have their places. Natasha gleefully spreads her out in a mess.
He understands and never complains.
Title: the magician played me tricks of the blood
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Anne Sexton
Warnings: AUish – written with only knowledge of season 2 and Zelena does not exist
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 740
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, any/any, When you get that look nobody is safe / it's why I first fell in love with you
When Jefferson first met the Dark One, he was apprehensive, of course. The most powerful creature of darkness in all the lands, summoning Jefferson for a contract?
To be utterly honestly, Jefferson was a little disappointed to meet the Dark One. Rumplestiltskin was dangerous, yes, but easy enough to deal with – even when making deals.
“There is more to you than meets the eye, portal-jumping thief,” Rumplestiltskin mused once.
Jefferson had laughed.
.
Rumplestiltskin arranged for the heartbreak of the young, magic-learning queen. Jefferson played his part dutifully because the pay was good.
Not long after, he heard that the young queen had become a terrifying force of darkness, and he smiled.
.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” his mother asks from the other side of the mirror.
“Exactly what you wanted me to,” he says, smirking at her.
She shakes her head. “I have everything under control. Cease this madness at once.”
He laughs, loud and long, and turns away from the mirror, and said, “Should have thought of that years ago.”
.
Jefferson has a daughter. No one ever met her mother. He moved into the cottage with an infant and told everyone the mother had died suddenly.
She died, but it wasn’t sudden. It was the price she paid for the deal.
He does love the girl. He named her Grace for an old saying: there but for the grace go I.
.
When the queen traps him in Wonderland, Jefferson knows it is his punishment. He’d always known it was coming.
When the queen cuts off his head and orders him to make a portal, he knows that is his punishment, too.
.
“You can end this,” his mother says from the other side of the mirror. “You know that you can.”
The hatter is mad. The portal jumper is broken.
It is his mother’s son who raises his head and bares his teeth and turns away and away and away.
.
In Storybrooke, he sleeps for years. His mind was never at rest in Wonderland. But in Storybrooke, there is nothing to do but rest and study.
There is no ambient magic in Storybrooke, only that which resides in skin and blood. His third and final punishment is that he remembers when no one else does, not even the queen or the imp. Only the mad, portal-jumping hatter.
He knows his mother. This is not only his punishment.
.
The miller’s daughter is named Regina. Her mother’s plan is to ensure her name comes true.
What only the mother knows is that she carried twin children to term and bore them both unto the world on a night of no moon.
.
The Curse breaks. Everyone remembers. Magic fills the air.
.
“You arrogant child,” his mother hisses from the mirror.
He spins the hat and smiles.
.
“Jefferson,” Regina says, before her heart breaks, before she is queen, before she is anything but a girl who dreams of happiness. “I cannot trust my mother.”
“No,” he agrees, “you can’t.”
.
Jefferson is an orphan who raises himself after escaping the orphanage. He begins as a pickpocket and graduates to magic with ease. He dreams of his mother; none of the dreams come true. His mother is a monster who watches him from mirrors, when she chooses to. He can never contact her first.
He knows he has a sister. She is kind-hearted. Soft. It’d break her to know her brother was cast out to find his own way at barely a day old.
He chooses the name Jefferson because it sounds strong and the name on his blanket is foolish.
.
The miller’s granddaughter is named Regina and she does, indeed, become queen.
The miller’s grandson is named Rex and nobody even knows he exists.
.
The mad portal-jumping hatter watches a ship draw close to shore. He has his darling Grace again.
His mother’s plans were always so intricate, webs of lies woven together until nothing at all was clear. Rumplestiltskin and Regina’s plots weren’t quite as cluttered, but all of three meshed quite nicely together.
The funniest bit of all is that each of them needed a portal and someone daring (mad) enough to jump through.
Rex wasn’t born with Regina’s aptitude for magic but he did have a small talent of his own, and, honestly... a hat is a hat is a hat.
The Queen of Hearts has come to Storybrooke. The Dark One and the Evil Queen are already present.
The board is set.
Fandom: Marvel movies
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Dylan Thomas
Warnings: violence, death, Red Room horrors
Pairings: implied Steve/Bucky
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 360
Point of view: third
Prompt: any, any, she'd like to know her own origin story
She was not born in 1984. That is all she knows for sure.
.
No. It's not. There's more.
.
Her mother named her Natalia. Called her little spark. Told her to burn.
There is much that has been stolen from her. She knows that.
.
Her hands are stained with blood. She knows that, too.
.
He smiled at her, the one they called her teacher. He smiled at her and showed her the best way to kill.
There is the clean way, he said, the quick way. He glanced toward the window because there were always watchers. We won't be allowed to use it, often, he said.
But, he added, softly, his flesh hand warm her on her cheek as he cupped her face, his silver hand firm on her arm, holding her in place as he showed where and how to cut, when you kill for yourself, do it quickly and cleanly.
She never saw him again, after that day.
Not until Odessa.
.
She was not born in 1984.
.
He smiled at her, the one sent to kill her. He offered her a choice.
She could’ve killed him. Easily.
She could’ve taken everything she learned and sold it to the highest bidder.
Instead, she allowed them to shackle her and told them secrets.
Instead, she took what others had made her and turned into a weapon for herself.
Her hands were stained red with blood and she’d like to wash some of it out.
.
She should have known. Pierce’s smile was a familiar.
.
Her mother named her Natalia and told her to burn.
.
They find Steve on the riverbank. Alive.
.
He never called her anything, her teacher.
She loved him the way children love. He was kind. He was strong.
He once broke the neck of a doctor whose hand drifted to Yelena’s budding breasts. (Yelena. She’d forgotten. No. It was stolen.)
She loved him.
Steve still does.
.
Her mother named her Natalia. She chose Natasha.
Who is she with no masks?
.
There is one debt left.
.
“What are you doing?” Clint asks as she pushes him back into the apartment.
“You need to rest up,” she tells him. “We’ve got work to do.”
Title: time will ease your pain
Fandom: Marvel movies
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Patty Loveless
Warnings: spoilers for Cap2
Pairings: Steve/Bucky
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 200
Point of view: third
Prompt: any. any/any
if my voice could reach back through the past
I'd whisper in your ear:
"Oh darling, I wish you were here"
He's fighting an alien army from outer space and twelve days ago, Bucky fell off a train.
He's visiting Peggy and leaving flowers at memorials and reading names on gravestones and three months ago, Bucky fell off a train.
He's living in DC and running every morning till he can't breathe, and nine months ago, Bucky fell off a train.
He's going on missions and fighting bad guys (at least, he's told they're bad) and a year ago, Bucky fell off a train.
He's going on missions and running every morning he can and watching Peggy forget, and 18 months ago, Bucky fell off a train.
He's watching an assassin rise to his feet and turn around, and a little over two years ago, Bucky fell off a train.
.
He prayed every night that Bucky would come back.
"… Bucky?"
But not like this.
"Who the hell is Bucky?"
.
Four years ago, they were curled up together on a too-small bed, talking about the future.
He prayed they'd be together forever.
.
He wakes up on a riverbank beat all to hell and Bucky is alive.
He breathes through the pain and it feels like his life has finally started again.
Title: Though it be Jacob’s voice, Esau’s, alas! are the hands
Fandom: DCU animated
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Longfellow
Warnings: AUish
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 180
Point of view: third
Prompt: DCU, Jason Todd+/Dick Grayson, Jason called
Three minutes to sunrise, he's gotta be up in less than an hour, and finally falls into bed.
His phone chirps. Of course it does.
Dick groans, rolling over to glare at his phone on the dresser, all the way across the room.
It could be important. He groans again as the phone chirps, letting him know he's got at least two texts. And then a third.
"Fine," he mutters, forcing himself to get up and stagger to the phone. He has to unlock the screen to read the messages for safety reasons and he comes to complete stop, about to collapse back onto the bed as he reads the first text.
I need your help.
Please.
Don’t tell Bruce.
Jason’s been back for less than a year and he has never contacted Dick first.
Dick glances at the window, where the first light of the morning is rising.
Where are you? he replies, and What do you need?
He fucked up majorly, before. They all did. Jason didn’t trust anyone enough to ask for help. He won’t make that mistake again.
Title: figures dancing gracefully across my memory
Fandom: Marvel movies
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: pre-canon through post-Avengers; implied bad things happening to children
Pairings: Natasha/Clint
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 345
Point of view: third
Prompt: MCU, Clint/Natasha, he doesn't have a clue where the SHIELD rumor came from that Natasha didn't have a lot of personal stuff she didn't use for work because moving her in to his place has just proved that rumor ludicrously wrong
Note: follows this
Clint keeps everything in its place because that's the easiest way to keep track of things. He's lost or left behind too many things over the years to take any of it for granted.
For some reason, though, everyone at SHIELD thinks he's messy. Maybe it's because he dresses comfortably when not on the job, or because his tiny little postage-stamp of a room is packed to exploding with stuff? Whatever. It's not like he actually lives there. And anything he keeps on-site is disposable, anyway.
Clint Barton is a nice guy but he doesn't trust anyone. He learned that the hard way.
.
Until Natasha.
.
He could have killed her from a mile away. She can kill him any time he steps into reach.
He brings her home, offers a dozen sound reasons for her continued survival, and plans how to save her and go to ground if Coulson, then Fury, then Fury's bosses decide to put her down.
.
Natasha has no belongings beyond her weapons. It’s not like Clint has much more than that himself, but she – well. He sees things that remind him of her, that he thinks she’d like, and he picks it up and brings it home. She always smiles a little confusedly and examines the thing or reads it or listens to it, and it’s just… Clint wishes he could go back in time and kill everyone who ever contributed to that adorable frown on her face as she looks at the spider full-body puppet.
“What is it?” she asks.
“It’s a toy,” he says.
.
Slowly, Natasha’s things migrate to Clint’s safehouse. SHIELD doesn’t know about it because he trusts Natasha but nobody else. (And a lot of them would call that stupid, but whatever. He knows people. He’s learned the hard way.)
Clint gets a dog that’s as hard-worn as he is. Natasha comes home with a stray cat.
The safehouse is home in a way nothing else ever has been.
.
Clint’s things still have their places. Natasha gleefully spreads her out in a mess.
He understands and never complains.
Title: the magician played me tricks of the blood
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Anne Sexton
Warnings: AUish – written with only knowledge of season 2 and Zelena does not exist
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 740
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, any/any, When you get that look nobody is safe / it's why I first fell in love with you
When Jefferson first met the Dark One, he was apprehensive, of course. The most powerful creature of darkness in all the lands, summoning Jefferson for a contract?
To be utterly honestly, Jefferson was a little disappointed to meet the Dark One. Rumplestiltskin was dangerous, yes, but easy enough to deal with – even when making deals.
“There is more to you than meets the eye, portal-jumping thief,” Rumplestiltskin mused once.
Jefferson had laughed.
.
Rumplestiltskin arranged for the heartbreak of the young, magic-learning queen. Jefferson played his part dutifully because the pay was good.
Not long after, he heard that the young queen had become a terrifying force of darkness, and he smiled.
.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” his mother asks from the other side of the mirror.
“Exactly what you wanted me to,” he says, smirking at her.
She shakes her head. “I have everything under control. Cease this madness at once.”
He laughs, loud and long, and turns away from the mirror, and said, “Should have thought of that years ago.”
.
Jefferson has a daughter. No one ever met her mother. He moved into the cottage with an infant and told everyone the mother had died suddenly.
She died, but it wasn’t sudden. It was the price she paid for the deal.
He does love the girl. He named her Grace for an old saying: there but for the grace go I.
.
When the queen traps him in Wonderland, Jefferson knows it is his punishment. He’d always known it was coming.
When the queen cuts off his head and orders him to make a portal, he knows that is his punishment, too.
.
“You can end this,” his mother says from the other side of the mirror. “You know that you can.”
The hatter is mad. The portal jumper is broken.
It is his mother’s son who raises his head and bares his teeth and turns away and away and away.
.
In Storybrooke, he sleeps for years. His mind was never at rest in Wonderland. But in Storybrooke, there is nothing to do but rest and study.
There is no ambient magic in Storybrooke, only that which resides in skin and blood. His third and final punishment is that he remembers when no one else does, not even the queen or the imp. Only the mad, portal-jumping hatter.
He knows his mother. This is not only his punishment.
.
The miller’s daughter is named Regina. Her mother’s plan is to ensure her name comes true.
What only the mother knows is that she carried twin children to term and bore them both unto the world on a night of no moon.
.
The Curse breaks. Everyone remembers. Magic fills the air.
.
“You arrogant child,” his mother hisses from the mirror.
He spins the hat and smiles.
.
“Jefferson,” Regina says, before her heart breaks, before she is queen, before she is anything but a girl who dreams of happiness. “I cannot trust my mother.”
“No,” he agrees, “you can’t.”
.
Jefferson is an orphan who raises himself after escaping the orphanage. He begins as a pickpocket and graduates to magic with ease. He dreams of his mother; none of the dreams come true. His mother is a monster who watches him from mirrors, when she chooses to. He can never contact her first.
He knows he has a sister. She is kind-hearted. Soft. It’d break her to know her brother was cast out to find his own way at barely a day old.
He chooses the name Jefferson because it sounds strong and the name on his blanket is foolish.
.
The miller’s granddaughter is named Regina and she does, indeed, become queen.
The miller’s grandson is named Rex and nobody even knows he exists.
.
The mad portal-jumping hatter watches a ship draw close to shore. He has his darling Grace again.
His mother’s plans were always so intricate, webs of lies woven together until nothing at all was clear. Rumplestiltskin and Regina’s plots weren’t quite as cluttered, but all of three meshed quite nicely together.
The funniest bit of all is that each of them needed a portal and someone daring (mad) enough to jump through.
Rex wasn’t born with Regina’s aptitude for magic but he did have a small talent of his own, and, honestly... a hat is a hat is a hat.
The Queen of Hearts has come to Storybrooke. The Dark One and the Evil Queen are already present.
The board is set.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2015-02-27 04:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-02-27 03:49 pm (UTC)Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2015-02-27 02:38 pm (UTC)And Clint/Natasha, like this, feels so natural. They so would get each other. More than the others can imagine, and quite subtly. <3
(no subject)
Date: 2015-02-27 03:49 pm (UTC)Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2015-02-28 02:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-02-28 03:12 pm (UTC)Cool.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-02-28 03:15 pm (UTC)