#chernayavidua

[russiasredguardian]

@chernayavidua continued from (x)

his answer was another fleeting kiss to her shoulder. lips brushing the curve of her shoulder blade as the morning's light crept across the room. for a beat, he found himself caught between the present and the past; there had been mornings like this before.

back then, in a different apartment. a different city - different lives, and yet somehow she still fit against him exactly as she had back then.

his gaze drifted lower, just below her shoulder blade, to a scar that he didn't recognise. small and pale, not old enough to belong to the woman he'd married. alexei brushed his thumb over it; a knife? maybe. it was clean, definitely not a bullet. he knew the shame of a bullet wound only too well.

there's a fleeting moment where he considers asking her about it, but if they were to start questioning the provenance of their respective battle scars, well, they'd be a while. instead, alexei leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the mark.

tightening his arm around her waist when she shifted, his other hand cupping her breast gave a brief possessive squeeze, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth when she griped at the early hour.

' you still murmur in your sleep. '

[sevenbulletsavior]

❛  01 .   a  kiss  to  say  hello . + ❛  03 .   a  kiss  after  a  long  time  apart .

Five months. Five long, quiet months with Nat being gone with no word from her, no texts to check in or no quick phone calls to say hello. Even if Karen was aware of the realities of Natalya's work, it was hard to reconcile her heart with those realities most of the time. Five months meant she had a lot of time to find ways to keep herself busy (outside of work), and she'd done just that, spending far too many hours baking one too many loaves of bread she would never be able to consume on her own.

Foggy and Matt gladly accepted them, as did the myriad of people who frequented Josie's on a weeknight or weekend when Karen walked in with a tote bag full and another day marked off on her calendar as she awaited Nat's return home.

She'd been elbow-deep (figuratively) in the next round of focaccia she was making when the knock sounded from her front door, pulling her from thought as she considered toppings. Karen paused, looking over at the entryway and then using her elbow to tap the screen of her phone to see if she missed any texts announcing someone's arrival to her apartment. She hmphed as her hands wiped traces of oil onto her apron, moving towards the door as another knock rang out.

"Coming!" she yelled out, tapping her phone on her way to the door to kill the music. Another knock and Karen was about to let out a little tirade regarding etiquette but the words fell short as @chernayavidua stood there bundled in her winter coat and smiling like a Cheshire cat. She was going to say something, was about to let out a ohgodI'mgladyou'rebackit'sbeensolong but hands were grabbing at the apron, tugging her close, and suddenly her words were stolen as Nat was kissing her as if they had not seen each other in an eternity.

[clawsextended]

@chernayavidua asked: ❛  but i do care about you ... a lot.  ❜

her eyes light up. incurable bright. brighter than imagined. she can’t help the way her teeth take in the flesh of her lower lip to gnaw the smile culminating under control before it can explode outright. she can’t keep it inside her body — it struggles to contain itself. she scuffs a heel noisily against the concrete with an idle sway back and forth. it clicks against gravel.

“oh, really?” the cat can’t help the meek shyness she feels. tasha’s words shoot straight for her heart and pierces it so deeply she can barely contain herself. she reaches out, touching a cheek lovingly with thoroughly scarred fingertips. her voice is mirthful, “you’re sweet. i care about you, too. and you’re so kind. also thoughtful. —sorry. just making an important point or several.”

[webheadedhero]

plotted starter for @chernayavidua

sometimes blending in had it's less obvious disadvantages, like the commute. he tried to save using his powers to get to work for the days that he was really running behind...or when he really wanted to get home. lamenting about the fact that he had to walk home, everything seemed to be moving slower today. classes, grading, everything. knowing his luck, the only thing that wouldn't drag today would be his limited free time. pulling his brows together as he got closer to his building, shifting the strap on his messenger bag, studying the frame of the woman waiting outside.

not exactly cutting the image of someone who moonlights as a vigilante with his tweed jacket and button shirt, hanging his head for a second and letting out a quiet groan. making eye contact as he got closer. tilting his head to the side and raising a curious eyebrow at her, " tutoring hours are tuesday and thursday..." giving a half smile before he spoke again. " you uh--you haven't been waiting long, have you?" pressing a finger so he could buzz himself into the building, holding the door open for her and motioning her inside. " I haven't checked the news today, but I'm guessing there's not some pressing emergency...right? this isn't a visit to tell me that you need all hands on deck?"

[esoterium]

@chernayavidua || that's a meme right there || accepting!

blood, sender cleans blood off of receiver. / for steve

there's always something so unsettling about the quiet that falls after the last shell casing hits the ground when the fight's, finally, over. it's as hollow as the bent brass kicked aside by tired foot inside a worn, scuffed boot. the ride there only takes about an hour. feels like a little eternity inside his chest, though. steve's limbs are heavy. like gravity's come up, wrapped itself around each one and is trying to drag him underground with every step and swing of his arm. it takes him forever to climb the stairs to the place she told him she'd be if he needed her.

he's got no idea if she's still here.

but the little key in the pocket of his uniform says he hopes so. maybe counting on it. no, not maybe. he IS. by the time he gets to her floor (cause with the messy state he's in? he can't just walk into the building and take the elevator) he's showing his discomfort in the way he grimaces and crinkles his nose while rolling his shoulder outside the short hallway that leads to the only door on this floor. her door.

the little key's pulled from the pocket on the inside of his vest. dirty, weather-beaten fingers hold it delicately and it wobbles as he puts it in the lock and twists. she's standing on the other side like she knew he had to take a second to compose himself the best he could as he gave himself the task of letting himself in.

a dull thud and his helmet hits the floor. there's bloodstains on it but they've long dried and mostly flaked off by now. he wish so much could be said about the ones dried along the corner of his mouth. the coagulated mark cut above his brow that won't leave a scar because of what's in his veins but damn sure looks like it should even though the road gave it a little bit of a healing grace. scuffed up knuckles and a bruised up face. this one took a little out of him. they haven't gotten to what's underneath the suit. bruises mostly. though the outline of brown red across a diagonal streak near his shoulder says at least one jerk landed their mark on a weak spot.

she takes his wrist and pulls him to the bathroom letting him have his silence like she knows he needs until he's the one who speaks up. the tub's running warm water by then, she's busying herself with taking off the top part of his vest. sometimes the captain and the soldier truly do show how alike they can be from growing up together. and she understands. she knows. "probably shoulda called you this time. honestly? barely knew where this was coming from..." a small grin. tired, guilty. "guess retirement's outta the question. least for now."

[executiioner]

ANITA HAD NEVER QUESTIONED HER SEXUALITY. sure, she could objectively admire a hot woman and if she swung that way, wouldnt mind seeing them naked. but the desire to find out how deep that curiosity went was never on her to-do list. she was busy and men were stupid, that worked for her. so when natasha all but swept her off her feet, playing the role of the flirty elite sneaking off with her lover, the marshal had a hard time not blushing down to her toes. she was never good at undercover work, her face never allowed her to lie but they had trafficker to hunt down and rubbing elbows at a gala with fake IDs was how to do it.

she had been caught snooping through one of the offices upstairs, well, she thought she was caught. instead her partner in justice pulled her into a searing kiss just as the security opened the door. they both knew the widow couldve easily taken every one out without anyone downstairs hearing a thing. instead anita could taste the champagne on her tongue, her breasts pressed against her own, her body trapped between the assassin and the oak desk.

" ladies, you need to move back down stairs, this is a restricted area. "

@chernayavidua liked for a sinday starter !

[ofeden]

@chernayavidua said ' they're hard to come by. / for james krees also hi hello, welcome back~

THE COOL FEELING OF METAL RESTING IN HIS HANDS , a familiar one — a weapon that not many are able to get their hands on , but he is . he’s worked his years tirelessly to garner access to that which others could only dream of and this gun held like precious gems in the palms of his hands ? this is likened to the elixir of life . the purest diamond of the smuggling world . now ? he’s handing it off to the black widow . of all the spies in the world . ❛   bet you realize how lucky you are , huh ?  ❜  the ego doesn’t exactly refrain from glowing in his gaze — after all , it’s a prize   ❛  but then again , guess it helps you out knowing the right kinds of people , huh ?    ❜  he debates a moment , sliding the weapon across the table towards her , but can’t resist taking one more look at it in admiration , ❛   beautiful thing too — but not going to lie , it’s going to be a pain in the ass to hide . good news is , most records of this weapon existing are virtually in the proverial , digital dust   ❜  another reason why it’s so hard to come by . nobody in their right mind would announce that they own one . he just happens to like being on the good side of this particular spy . ❛   you want to give it a test run ?   ❜

[devilisln-moved]

Are there any plot tropes you are sick of/refuse to RP? If so, what are they and why?

Is there a character that the rest of your fandom adores that you just don’t like/are indifferent to? Who is the character and why?

I mean, there are certain story tropes in general I don't care for. Amnesia, body swaps, that whole misunderstanding thing they do in romantic comedies or just for cheap conflict, god i fucking hate that. Also, I think i'm an acquired taste, the way i like to write ships. I'm not a huge fan of constant conflict within a ship. Like, of course no relationship is perfect, but like constant turbulence is fucking exhausting to me. I'm boring. I just don't want my couples to kiss and fuck, I want them to be happy and supportive to each other. I would rather the angst be related to some kind of external conflict, not some insecurity within the relationship. That being said, I don't oppose to much, you know (aside from the really fucked up shit I prolly don't have to detail)? I'm just not likely to cater to that sort of thing without discussion. In other words, I think I prefer to find like minded individuals because I can be very eager to please and I often find myself in situations where I'm treated as a doormat lmao.

2.Okay, okay, okay, stick with me here. I like Frank Castle, okay? I like the idea of exploring such a damaged man, his trials and tribulations, his complicated relationships with other heroes. Love that shit. However, the fandom that rose up around him with season 2 of the Netflix series really pisses me off. I hate how it brings up the old "no-kill hypocricy" (and god forbid "well how does Matt know he's not killing people and isn't beating up people without fully understanding their personal history and working with cops is pretty shitty too? Yeah, I agree, it's...called nuance and the core internal conflict of most vigilante stories) discourse and the bloodthirsty nature of the way they talk about justice. I get it, I do, there's something cathartic about Frank's vengeance, yet i really wish they'd step back and think about what they're saying or at least be more honest about it. There's also something i find really irritating about the Kastle ship. I don't have a dog in the fight. i don't really care for Karedevil, either. But it 9/10 it turns into another reason to compare Frank and Matt, and much as I hate to say it, it also feels like they're using Karen as a mouthpiece, when the fact of the matter is Karen is a very messy character in Netflix's Daredevil. I could probably write an entire essay about her being the inversion of the femme fatale, but my point is, Karen is a good person with her heart generally in the right place, but she's also a recovering drug addict, dealing with the guilt over her brother's death, etc. She's no paragon of virtue, and her attraction to Frank, regardless of how you put it is related to her internalized identification of herself as a killer (yes, she really, actually is, given the whole Wesley ordeal, but her desperate violence in self-defense is quite different from Frank stalking, planning, and enacting explicit, targeted murder, but I digress). So yeah, it's complicated. I like Frank Castle, but I don't like the way fandom tends to interacts with him. It's like everyone becomes Garth Ennis, y'know?