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you were born to bleed, little soldier.

[unmichka]

encountered june 1999 in connection with ███████ (FILE #99/06/TSC 78), 𝗦𝗨𝗕𝗝𝗘𝗖𝗧 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗔 is a graduate of the 𝗠𝗢𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗪-𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗧 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗖𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗠𝗬 known as 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗠 (FILE #00991287b).

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УМНИЧКА: priv + indie + sel portrayal of yelena belova, 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘞𝘏𝘐𝘛𝘌 𝘞𝘐𝘋𝘖𝘞 from the from the 𝘔𝘈𝘙𝘝𝘌𝘓 𝘜𝘕𝘐𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘚𝘌. a blend of: earth-616 / mcu / headcanon, with particular inspiration taken from black widow: breakdown, the black widow (2020) comics, & thunderbolts*. crossover/au, oc, & multiship friendly. 21+, dark themes will be present. spun by z. any pronouns. 24. pst.

⁰¹ CARRD ⁰² PROMPTS ⁰³ BOARD ⁰⁴ STUDY ⁰⁵ BIO 01 + 02 ⁰⁶ BLOGROLL

weaving webs with: BOBRVYNOLDS ♡ ANTIPERSONAL OXENTRATE HELLFIRESVAULT ♡ KAIJUUKID JUBETHANG ♡

[unmichka]

/ sometimes i want to write yelena being nice and sweet to her partners but honest to god this is how she's moving in a lot of these relationships

[trappedinmyclitt]

This man has me giggling… I have to kill him

[breakrooms]

Impact is always the worst part.

Smack bang in the middle of their newest crater, Eddie winces. They let themselves hang in the agony of rubble--their shoulders braced and their breath hitched--waiting for the bloodrush to leave their ears. Eddie half expects to open their eyes to golden lights, though it would seem the heavenly father has already abandoned their latest attempt at self-indulgence.

Instead, in the hazy fog of their own wake, Eddie's eyes open to a flash of blonde. A woman. Two of them? No, three. No, actually, just one. Everything is spinning. Right. Time to make contact. Rubble falls away from their rigid frame as they bring themselves to a sitting stance. Distinctly off balance, Eddie can't stop themself from swerving sideways. An immediate groan of dissatisfaction escapes their crusted lips. Weak and whining, like a kicked puppy on the side of the road.

The woman speaks, earning an immediate flinch. Eddie's head throbs. Usually people scream. This is... remarkably subdued. Blue eyes--well glazed over from the healing concussion--finally track down the actual position of the speaker. Two tentative hands raise. "Don't be afraid... It's... ah, stars above, give me a minute."

Eddie curls forward, confident they can hear their humanly bones crunch in the process. A grunt, a grumble, a groan, and their up. There they stand, clutching themselves as they tilt their head. "You are remarkably calm. I didn't knock you on the way down, did I? You're feeling alright?"

[unmichka]

Remarkably calm. Yeah. Yelena eases back a step, then another, one hand lifted to waist-level like she's trying to call an unruly dog to heel. The fall rattled her brain, and now she's seeing things. That's what's going on. That, or she's finally, fully cracked.

A quick sort through the evidence does little to assuage that concern. Alive. How--are they a super soldier? No. Maybe. Could Bob fall that far? Bucky? And then their voice. Rattled, as one might suspect. British, as Yelena had not suspected.

"Afraid? Jesus." Yelena begins, then stops. "What? No. I mean, yes, the shockwave did, when you--I'm sorry, did I drive through a skydiving zone by accident?"

[unmichka]

/ since i'm writing 616 yelena a lot more lately, quick char. note that i don't typically use the adaptoid arc (for a couple reasons, but one of the big ones is that it's logistically tricky). all that really means is that for 616 threads, lena doesn't have her rogue lite powers unless we decide it would be fun for her to :p

[unmichka]

❝ Y'know? You really ain't helpin' the all super spies are fuckin' hot as hell stereotype; I'm sure not complaining though. ❞ (OOOOO JUBES YOU ARE SMOOTH WITH IT.)

“Flattery's the oldest trick in the book, Jubilee,” Yelena observes, sweeping a lock of hair behind her ear. "Do you really expect me to fall for that?"

She should know; it’s one of the most reliable tools in her own arsenal. Which makes the slow smile tugging at the corners of her lips spectacularly bad form. But really, can it be her fault? They're cozied close--closer than she should be--at a high-top bar, Yelena's hand resting on a half-drunk mule. Every time Jubilee shifts her head, the low lighting catches in her hair, iridescent like spider silk.

“Spot me? The gum, not a light.Still trying to quit, but you know what they say about bad habits." Yelena leans forward, eyes bright and conspiratorial. Under the bar, the toe of her heel bumps lightly against Jubilee's. "They're damn hard to kick."

[unmichka]

i prefer to be alone than in bad company. (cherry)

Yelena kills the ignition on her bike and hops off, dumping her work bag unceremoniously on the nearest bench. Quiet afternoons are fewer and further between these days. Her motorcycle of all things has suffered the lack of attention. The wheels make a painful click click click as Yelena guides it into an empty work bay.

"I hope that's a compliment and not your way of telling me to get out. I've been trying to get down here all month." She nods at a point just over Cherry's shoulder--the sleek, bumblebee-yellow body of a familiar car. Yelena whistles. "We had the same idea. Demon's looking pretty. Just maintenance today, I hope--no problems with her?"

how not to drown

[bobrvynolds]

Bob laughs in the driver's seat, though it's barely heard from the engine out. He rolls up the window and unlocks the passenger seat door, allowing Yelena respite from the heat.

"Val sent you off to the middle of nowhere for exactly what reason?" He nods over to the cup holder by her side, where an iced black coffee awaits, and drives off into the highway. "Wet tissues in the glove compartment."

[unmichka]

"No reason," Yelena huffs. "Absolutely none! I was supposed to find stupid file for her, but the bunker was empty. Only dust bunnies left." She slumps down into the seat and shoves her sunglasses back up. The last thing she wants to do is parse through a failed mission.

In the corner of her vision, the iced coffee sweats. Yelena grumbles under her breath, then grabs it. She's not mad at Bob and she knows it, even if it takes a few minutes of A/C and ice-cold caffeine for her to realize it. She's mad at--well, most everything else. Val. The job. The stupid-hot East Coast summer. Herself.

And Bob. A little bit. For how nice he is, in spite of her. Yelena sighs. "...You did not have to drive all the way out here. I could have taken the train."

[unmichka]

Religion has never been a concern for Yelena. There are forces and higher powers at play, oh yes, she has seen them. Met a few, shook their hands. Watched on the news and out her window as they battled it out over disputes far, far above her pay grade. Once, she’d even stepped inside one, let the cold expanse of the void seep under her skin. A dozen-odd weeks had elapsed since, and a too-dark room still sent dread crawling up her spine.

But believing in those things is a matter of empirical evidence. Thor exists; portals splice together the universes; the sun rises and sets each day. All true, even if the particulars test the bounds of her comprehension. Seeing is believing, after all.

But right now, Yelena isn’t quite sure she trusts her eyes. She edges toward the crater bisecting the highway. Smoke curls off the asphalt. Her bike—knocked clean onto the shoulder by the impact wave—sputters behind her. If this is an alien invasion, she thinks, I’m quitting.

It’s not. Maybe. The body curled in the broken road looks suspiciously human. Except no human could survive falling from—wherever they fell. Yelena peers up at the sky. Wide and empty.

Yelena steps back, ready to flee the scene, when the body moves. A shift, a groan. She almost jumps out of her skin.

“What the hell are—you’re alive?”

one angelic fall for @breakrooms

[unmichka]

"women know even the things we do not see."

"How poetic. You sound like a tetushka.” Yelena sits her chin in the cup of her hand like a petulant child. Natalia's always been cleverer than her, a truth she only begrudgingly acknowledges. She begrudges it even more when she finds herself trailing behind the point of a conversation. “Yes. They do. It is what makes them good spies. It is what makes us good spies." There’s a moral somewhere in the adage, one she’s meant to have found. That was their way, her and Natalia. Yelena traces her lip absently. “Feminine intuition, whatever that is. At least, that is what they say. But we are more spider than woman these days, yes?”

how not to drown

[brittany]

Jennifer’s Body (2009), dir. Karyn Kusama

[unmichka]

a twitter gem c/o @/nadiathenerd

[ghostlypetal]

ghostlypetal

[bobrvynolds]

Open Starter

"God, sorry. I know the truck's loud as hell. I haven't uhh.. got the money to replace the engine, or whatever's wrong with it. D'ya still need a lift?"

[unmichka]

Yelena pushes her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, squinting at Bob over the top. It's blistering today. Heat shimmers on the hood of his truck like a sheen of sweat. She's down to her tank top and her bad mood.

"What?" Yelena cups a hand to her ear, leaning in like she can't hear over the truck's growl. "Does not matter. You will play music louder anyway. Now unlock the door before I die."

[unmichka]

“Can I do your makeup?”

There's a ghost in the kitchen. Yelena almost drops her coffee.

Childhood is years behind her, and what memories she has have gone foggy with the effort of forgetting. But she remembers that face, from pictures if nothing else. Natalia. And then, no. A blink and the image clarifies--heart-shaped face and a tumble of red hair. Not Natalia. Little Clara. Not so little anymore, she supposes; the girl must be around Yelena's own height now. And she's evidently grown as light on her feet as any widow. Yelena hadn't heard her walking up. All that ballet was paying off.

"Hi, Lisichka." She nods in invitation, mug now safely set on the kitchen table. "Are you practicing for your recitals? Come. Let's get my bag. You can make me look pretty."

[unmichka]

< why would you do this to me? > < i wanted to save you. > < and i hope you burn in hell for it, romanova. >

on yelena belova natasha romanova the black widow black widow: breakdown (2001) | unknown | black widow (2021) | a conversation about identity - atlas

[reeyyyyyyyyyyyyy]