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Deviant for 8 Years
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Literature
Teenage Assassin (AU)
Barbara wasn't sure what to think of her current position in this team dynamic. Not on Nat's part, of course. Her sister knew where they were going, knew the target's face, and was recognized as part of his operation. It was a big "duh" that she was in the lead. Which left this Hawkeye and Barbara as the follow up sweep, to guard Nat's back. Barbara didn't have a weapon (and hadn't seen the need to relieve Hawkeye of the firearm tucked under his vest...yet), but theoretically they would be melee and range, a perfect pairing.
Except the stupid man wouldn't stop protecting her.
It was sweet if it wasn't so deluded. Had Nat told him anything about the RRA or just told him where to go, who to grab, and then run? Barbara didn't know and didn't care. Her patience was about to run dry...mostly because they were about to be surrounded.
She kept her back to his, eyeing the incoming insurgents. She couldn't see Nat at all, suggesting they were trying to cut them off from each other. Behind her,
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Literature
Mama and Cy Time
Smoothing down rebellious curls, Rima sang softly the chorus of the lullaby she had sung to all of her children. “May there always be angels to watch over you… To guide you each step of the way…” She adjusted the near-baby in her arms. Avani’s head was heavy against her shoulder. Finally, her very (very) stubborn youngest daughter was slipping off to sleep. Terrible twos indeed. ”To guard you, and keep you, safe from all harm… Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay…”
“That’s my song!”
Avani whimpered against her shoulder. Rima rolled her eyes upward, prayed for patience, and looked back down at her seven-year-old son who was not adjusting well, either to their new home or to the fact he was no longer the baby. Poor boy was also the only son, which meant he was besieged by his sisters near-constantly. She couldn’t blame him for being perturbed that the baby was getting the same lullaby she had sun
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Literature
Little Surprise
Humming softly, Wanda checked the oven to make sure the duck was where it was supposed to be temperature wise. Everything was alright there. She stirred the pomegranate sauce that was bubbling away on the stove, and made sure the risotto and grilled asparagus was ready. Wanda plated the dinner she’d carefully prepared, biting the inside of her lower lip so she wouldn’t ruin the garnet-colored lip stain she’d applied earlier (which theoretically, her teeth shouldn’t do in the first place, but Wanda knew probability a little too well to risk it). She took off the apron and old-button-up shirt she’d put on over her black dress. It was slightly retro, 1950’s in appearance, with a black V-neck top above a white skirt with black rose decals. She’d done her hair in a twist, slipped on a pair of black peep-toes…
Was it too much? She wasn’t certain. They’d been together for a long time, even if they had only been married for a few week
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Literature
Laura's First Christmas
Laura had learned that there were a lot of strange rituals that so-called normal people went through as the weather grew colder. And since she unnerved the people her own age so much, she always just sat back quietly and listened, watched, and sometimes learned about what was going on. Like how a snowball fight wasn’t an actual fight, since the projectiles hardly caused any damage. Or how eating more than was necessarily healthy was apparently traditional on certain days, though it all appeared illogical to her.
So when garlands of greenery began to appear, wrapped around banisters and over trim, she didn’t do more than wrinkle her nose at the subtle remains of dust clinging to them. When a large evergreen tree was set in the main living room and decorated with ribbons and strange round things that were very fragile, she simply appreciated the fresh scent in the otherwise stale air of the mansion and the pleasing colors of the decorations. When whispers and giggles began to
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Literature
Once Upon a Nightmare
For once, Bobbi's leather jacket was exactly the right weight for the weather. Atlanta was warmer in the day than at night, apparently, even in winter, and the evening chill hadn't had a chance to drop too far while they walked to the Morse house. She was sort of in the lead of the team right now. Sort of in the literal sense, because Clint was comfortably beside her, arm around her waist in a deliberate taunt at Nat who was dragging her feet behind them. Sort of in the usual sense, because she was the only one who knew where they were going.
It had been a surprise, getting a phone call from Clark (and Rhonda, who had started to demand to be called Rhonni). He'd wanted her to stop by, spend time with the family. And Bobbi had tried to get out of it, she had. But she'd had the stupid phone on speaker since she had also been trying to fly at the time, and Clint had agreed before she could find a good excuse why not, even pointing out they had a weekend off coming up, what serendipity. Sh
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Literature
Escaping the RRA (AU)
They'd known she was going to run.
Not like her mother, the first Klavdiya. She wasn't going to sell her own daughter to these people, just for her own freedom. Klavdiya would die first. But perhaps they sensed that in her, somehow. That she wasn't going to break like others had, but that she wasn't going to let them decide her future. Their brainwashing and reprogramming hadn't completely taken root in her, at least not to her core like it did some of the others.
Natalia was the one the thank for that. Well, that and Kalvdiya's all-too-annoying stubbornness. But mostly the woman who had been her guardian when they were both students, far beyond the three months required of her, and even now checked on her when she could, when it wouldn't be noticed or remarked on.
It hadn't been recent enough for Klavdiya to tell her that she wasn't going to go through with the graduation ceremony. She wished it had been. Maybe she could have avoided this... Hadn't Natalia also tried to delay it, stal
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Literature
It's the Little Things
Rima scowled as she shoved her brother out her new front door. "Get!" she ordered, trying to ignore the flush staining her cheeks red.
"Now is that anyway for a blushing bride to be behavin'?" he asked, stumbling on to the newly refinished porch. "Literally there, C.C. Don' tell me yer embarrassed about what's gonna happen tonight." His grin was pure mischief, since he knew he was getting under his new Matriarch's skin.
"Darius Lucian Cape!" Rima barked, standing in the door frame. She didn't know how intimidating of a sight she was, still in her wedding dress and her hair flowing behind her, but damn it, she had to try. He'd been teasing her ever since he came in to let them know that he'd unsaddled Mist and Star for them. Nathanial had been spared the worst of it, since he was out talking to the foreman about his workshop at the time, but once he'd come inside, Darius had gotten worse...and vulgar. Rima took a deep breath and crossed her arms. "Ain't Olivia waiting for you? Before it
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Literature
Hawks and Mockingbirds (AU)
"So... Can I keep him?"
"What?" Nat turned to look at her, brow twitching.
Barbara grinned, swinging her legs idly. People in suits had swarmed the center of Columbus's base, leaving the two Russians to stand by the side. Well, Nat was still standing, leaning against the railing. Barbara had hopped up and was balanced on the top rail like it was a bench. She had gotten more than her fair share of looks, and each one had made Nat's frown get deeper and deeper. And as the little sister, it was Barbara's job to be the distraction.
That, and her core personality that Nat had oh-so-willingly helped Barbara protect was inherently cheerful and a little flirty...and Hawkeye--now known to the sisters as Agent Clint Barton--had made an impression.
"Can I keep him?" Barbara repeated, keeping the conversation in Russian. "I promise to take care of him." She fluttered her eyelashes.
Natasha--as Nat had explained her new name back on the jet when Barbara first woke up--rolled her eyes and didn't say
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Literature
Cousins to the End
"How are you not baking in all of that?"
Looking up from his History reading, Lupus gave a smirk to Cy. "What's wrong, cousin? Need someone to throw a pitcher of pumpkin juice on you again?" he couldn't resist teasing her. She stuck her tongue out at him in response, lounging in an armchair dressed in just her blouse and skirt, even her socks tucked into the pair of shoes resting by her chair. And there was still a thick layer of sweat at her temples. He, however, was still in his complete uniform minus robes, including his sweater vest, and looked completely cool.
"You swore not to bring that up again," she reminded him.
"You promised not to bother me until I finished studying for my History of Magic exam," he countered without looking up from his page with a frown. History of Magic was easily his worst subject. Lupus had a horrible problem keeping all the names and dates straight. It wasn't helping to have Cy chattering in his ear while he tried to read.
"Can't w
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Literature
Scars That Once Were
Rogue was full of little quirks. Some, like the clothes and the meditation, were because of her mutation. And some were the scars of foster care and the numerous kidnappings, like sleeping under her bed. And thanks to all those idiosyncrasies, some of the less healthy ones were ignored or just put off as her having a bad time with the psyches that particular day.
Not that the psyches were particularly helpful, today of all days. Logan was growling and grumbling about something, the rest of the male ensemble were sulking, which left Carol to baby-sit the more violent (towards Rogue, anyway) psyches. Valentine’s Day was a sucky time to realize you were a copy living in somebody else’s head. Even for Rogue, the day was awful.
Bloody Valentine’s Day, she’d called it growing up. It was the anniversary of her parents’ deaths. And now, she knew it had almost been hers too, though unlike them and the others of the commune, hers was meant to be intentional.
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Literature
Onward to Happily Ever After
Carol finished twisting her hair up on the back of her head with a couple more hair pins. For the most part, the angel-braid was enough to keep it up and out of her face, outside of the shorter layers left out to fram her face, but she liked to be thorough. Plus, hair pins were handy things to have on hand. She'd already finished what little make-up she was bothering with, lining her eyes and staining her lips dark red. Only for Hank would she go through this much fuss and muss for one evening.
Speaking of Hank... She frowned, reaching for her jewelry box. How had she let him talk her into this again? Dating him meant going along with the politics sometimes, she understood that, but usually she was much harder to be talked into going. "You're going soft, Danvers," she told her reflection with a sigh, putting her crystal drop bracelet on. "He pouts at you, you give in. Thank God you can't have kids, you would be S.O.L." The matching earrings were a little trickier to put in, if only bec
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Literature
Bratty Behavior (AU)
There was a shrieking giggle, but not from Clint. Frowning, Bobbi stared from her vantage place on the stairs leading down to one of the sparring areas, leaning over the rail. She hadn't missed with her water balloon, that much was obvious. Clint was completely soaked, shoulders drawn up towards his ears from the sudden shock of cold water, and there was a ring of water around him on the floor. The two giggling lower ranking agents weren't quite as wet, sadness, but her point had been made. (Namely, distract him from flirting with people who weren't her. Just because she had to put up with the knowledge of him dating other people since he wasn't taking her hints didn't mean she had to watch it.)
With Nat gone on a mission, Fury refusing to let her go on missions yet as he was determined to somehow get her into a civilian life, Clint was her only source of entertainment. Well, safe source. She could bug some of the other agents--Coulson and Hill both showed remarkable patience with her
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Literature
The Rebirth of Klavdiya (AU)
They said her name was Klavdiya now, not Barbara. Mommy had told her that she was going to live with these people from now on, and they would teach her things she needed to know. The woman who had picked her up at the airport had been cold, and her backpack had been taken away...along with everything else from her life. Instead, she'd been told that she was going to have what was provided for her, and that was it. Even those things weren't to be unique to her, but rather things given to her to use. And that was the only explanation she had been given. The rest of the flight had been silent. Barbara had fidgeted a little, at least until the scary lady had glared at her. She just didn't like being still...
Now they were at what they called a school. It didn't look like the school that Barbara had gone to in California. There, it had been warm and sunny, with a big playground and classrooms with big windows that they hung paintings on to help them dry. This place had snow on the ground, l
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Literature
Thunder and Lightning Return
Fandral huffed as he finished tying off the sky skiff, the wind tugging at his cloak and making the ship sway, though the previous tethers held. He tightened the last knot for safety's sake and straightened up, hearing his back pop. Maybe he was getting old. The chill of autumn certainly hadn't felt so biting before. He remembered when this time of year was his favorite, when he almost lived on his skiff, caring for nothing more than the open sky, chasing the blurs of gold and red that were the leaves on the wind. And for a few years, there had been a high, infectious laugh weaving in with his own, one that got a little deeper as the owner got older. Now it was only his, and it made the whole experience ring hollow for him.
Damn. He really missed the little lightning bug.
Shaking his head at himself, Fandral turned from the docks and towards the road back to Asgard proper. Who would have thought? The handsomest of the Warriors Three, pining over a girl. Though really, it was less pinin
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Literature
Night Shadow Deal
Sif placed her basket on the table, already nearly overloaded with other dishes, eyeing the placement crtically. Unlike the others, which had to have either a heated or chilled clay tile underneath them to keep them to temperature, her bread could be served at room temperature, though it was better warm. Either way, it was dense and rich with dried fruit and spices. “Her bread” being a relative title for it. The recipe was her mother’s, and Sif’s ability to bake it was in honor of her. It was one of only a handful of domestic skills that Sif had, since she had been running around with the princes and the Warriors Three rather than lingering in her mother’s kitchen.
She regretted that now. Sif stepped away from the table, watching as other women added to the wide spread for the upcoming feast. Not out of pride, since she doubted she would be some great cook or house-minder. The people of Midgard had called her the Goddess of War and the Hunt, even mortals a
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Literature
Pet--A Rose, a Frost, and a Smee
Hitching her skirts up with one hand, Roisin huffed in annoyance and scrambled up the boulders. Why couldn't she wear trousers like a boy? It wasn't fair that she was in a chemise, stockings, petticoats, dress, slippers, apron, and shawl...and they were in trousers, a shirt, socks and boots optional. Much easier for climbing up and down the craggy countryside that came from their village being on the coast. Not. Fair.
A protesting yip came from her apron, where her second hand was holding it bunched up. "Sorry," she quickly apologized, though she was sure it didn't mean anything to it. "We're almost there, I promise!" Her Irish accent wasn't as strong as others--from her mother running the local inn, more than likely. "Mam would have pitched a fit if I tried to keep yah, but..." She trailed off, hoping she was right.
The house she wanted was high up on the hills, where the sheep had plenty of grass to graze. Stopping outside the house, Roisin yelled at the top of her lungs, "SMEE!"<
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Activity


Barbara wasn't sure what to think of her current position in this team dynamic. Not on Nat's part, of course. Her sister knew where they were going, knew the target's face, and was recognized as part of his operation. It was a big "duh" that she was in the lead. Which left this Hawkeye and Barbara as the follow up sweep, to guard Nat's back. Barbara didn't have a weapon (and hadn't seen the need to relieve Hawkeye of the firearm tucked under his vest...yet), but theoretically they would be melee and range, a perfect pairing.

Except the stupid man wouldn't stop protecting her.

It was sweet if it wasn't so deluded. Had Nat told him anything about the RRA or just told him where to go, who to grab, and then run? Barbara didn't know and didn't care. Her patience was about to run dry...mostly because they were about to be surrounded.

She kept her back to his, eyeing the incoming insurgents. She couldn't see Nat at all, suggesting they were trying to cut them off from each other. Behind her, she heard the archer swear. Glancing, she frowned when she saw that he had run out of arrows.

Okay, she was done being the nice girl.

Reaching behind her, she grabbed his gun (and there was a second clip next to it on his belt, bonus) and instantly slipped into the mindset of the assassin. Cold and calculating, she raised the hand gun and started to empty the clip, going for double-tap kill shots. He jumped and swore, but she only stayed peripherally aware of him. Eliminating all threats, she cleared their immediate area and set out at a trot down the hallway, changing clips on the fly so she had a full one in case of another group.

Sure enough, they'd set themselves up for a bottleneck. Too bad, so sad. She positioned herself on the outside of the door, taking chances between pauses to weed them down and then jumping into the room itself. One after another, down to the last who laid down his gun and raised his hands, begging for his life.

Barbara leveled the gun at his forehead.

"Wait!" Hawkeye grabbed her shoulder, twisting her towards them. He stared down at her in disbelief. "He's asking for mercy, girl."

She tilted her head, re-aimed the gun even without being able to see her target, and fired twice rapidly. Mercy was weakness and had been beaten out of her years ago.

But it was impossible not to notice the disappointment in the man's grey eyes...and that hurt, under her assassin's mask. He took her by the wrist and dragged her further in the complex, seeing the same signs she did that pointed where Nat had been. Barbara wasn't the only one leaving a trail of dead bodies. "What did they teach you in that school?" he complained under his breath, probably thinking she wouldn't hear him.

Barbara twisted her wrist out of his hold and darted ahead of him, standing on the outside of the door at the end of the hall so she wouldn't be seen once it opened. "Don't ask," she said grimly. He didn't need to know...and didn't really want to know, probably.

But he didn't let it go. "Well, SHIELD agents accept surrenders," he told her...or more like tried to order her.

"I'm not SHIELD," she reminded him. And she hit the mechanized switch to open the door.

The sounds of hand-to-hand combat came through. Barbara tucked the gun into the waistband of her skirt. She'd long since gotten used to the ridiculousness of the world's elite assassins being school girls in white shirts with Mary Jane collars and red ties, and black and red pleated skirts. Didn't stop her from wearing shorts under her skirt. She had some decency, and she just had to not get caught deviating from uniform.

Besides, the skirt worked well as a temporary gun holster. Grinning, Barbara darted into the room, grabbing the man that could only be Columbus from behind in a grapple. He wasn't expecting her weight, and he threw her to the side, but it gave Nat an opening to move in and give him a sock to the jaw. Unfortunately, he hadn't needed Nat for the muscle, and knocked her to the side. She paused, looking exhausted, and jerked her head in Barbara's direction. She was more rested. Her turn to at least stall him until Nat could catch her breath and regroup.

Barbara was more than happy to fill that void. It was where her and Nat were different. Nat was excellent at stealth and shooting, whereas those were Barbara's weakest. Her own specialty was tactics...and brawling. Her mask of calm stayed in place, but inside, she was cheering. She had a lot of rage, and she was more than happy to throw most of it Columbus's way.

Unfortunately, he'd been too worn down by Nat. He went down easily enough, underestimating her and overestimating the power of his reach and height on her. She dropped him to the floor...and reached for the gun. Leveling it at him, she tilted her head when he smiled. "Should have known the RRA wouldn't like me playing with their toy for so long," he said. "Well, finish your job."

"Barbara," Hawkeye called from the direction of the door. "Don't."

"You are not the boss of me, Agent," Barbara called back, keeping her eyes on Columbus so he wouldn't do anything sneaky. And he wasn't. But then, neither was the RRA. His words and her training both haunted her, as did her emotions. This... This was personal. "You took my sister from me," she told Columbus. Squeezing the trigger, she fired three times.

Once to the right shoulder. Twice to the left leg.

She lowered the gun so it was pointed safely at the ground, ignoring his cries of pain. He wouldn't hear her, but she needed to say it. So Hawkeye would hear her, and Nat. And the core of herself that had been saved from the brainwashing. "I want you to suffer. But you took other people's sisters, brothers, husbands, wives. They deserve to watch you suffer too." She blinked and she let the mask fall, and some of her emotions back. Exhaustion muffled most of them, but... it was a good kind of tired. Barbara sought Nat's eyes and managed a weak smile. "Some elite assassin I turned out to be, huh?"

Nat stood up and walked towards her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders in a loose hug. She had to nudge Barbara's head so it would be low enough for her to kiss her forehead, breaking Barbara's brain. When had she gotten enough height on Nat that the stupid heals she insisted on wearing into combat didn't let her stay taller? "I suppose since you never graduated, you can be a pseudo-assassin," she said with a small smile.

"No more killing?" Barbara said hopefully.

"Not for you," Nat agreed, though she didn't sign herself up for the sanity.

But that was okay. Barbara let Natalia move her to the side as Hawkeye locked down the room and called in a full detail from SHIELD. It was enough to know that no one was going to make her kill again. Now she just had to figure out how to stop herself from doing it out of instinct.
Teenage Assassin (AU)
Poor Bobbi has the training, but never fully committed like Nat did.
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Smoothing down rebellious curls, Rima sang softly the chorus of the lullaby she had sung to all of her children. “May there always be angels to watch over you… To guide you each step of the way…” She adjusted the near-baby in her arms. Avani’s head was heavy against her shoulder. Finally, her very (very) stubborn youngest daughter was slipping off to sleep. Terrible twos indeed. ”To guard you, and keep you, safe from all harm… Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay…”

“That’s my song!”

Avani whimpered against her shoulder. Rima rolled her eyes upward, prayed for patience, and looked back down at her seven-year-old son who was not adjusting well, either to their new home or to the fact he was no longer the baby. Poor boy was also the only son, which meant he was besieged by his sisters near-constantly. She couldn’t blame him for being perturbed that the baby was getting the same lullaby she had sung for him for so long.

He was missing a puzzle piece though. She raised both of her brows at him, reminding him without words to watch his tone when speaking to her, and watch his volume while in the youngest two sisters’ room. He had the good grace to look sheepish at least.

Avani had settled at last into real sleep. Enough that Rima felt safe putting her down in the crib, murmuring soothingly the whole way. She hovered for just a moment, making sure the baby was actually going to stay asleep this time before she rounded on Cy.

He hovered in the doorway. She crooked her finger and beckoned for him to follow her. Just in case he had any ideas, she rested one hand on his shoulder—her little boy had gotten so tall on her, even at seven. She steered him up the stairs, into the proper nursery. It was meant for guests, but Rima had long since monopolized it to keep her children entertained. Angel had finally entered its autumn years, which meant thunderstorms and lots of them. They’d had to adjust to the change in their lives that would last until her children were starting families of their own, including keeping children inside more often than once very couple of months.

All three of the girls were thankfully out riding, most likely together. Rima wasn’t surprised. At fourteen, twelve, and nine (respectively), all three girls were coming into their femininity far better than Rima ever had. Estelle was even debuting later this year, and Roxy was in practice for hers.

It just left poor Cyrus out on his own more than he probably liked. Caught between two extremes, and just when he thought he had something of his own… Rima sighed, half-throwing herself into the rocking chair kept there for when Rima or Nate would read to the children before bed. “Alright, little man,” she beckoned, holding out both her hands. “Looks like we’re overdue for a talk.”

He was pouting, but he came forward easily enough. Rima held his hands in hers, winding their fingers together. “Now, yah know quite well I‘ve sung that lullaby to all of yah,” she scolded, gently as possible. “What’s the fuss really about?”

Cyrus fidgeted, not looking at her. “I dunno.”

Unlike her father, who never accepted that answer from any of his children, Rima listened. She squeezed his hands gently. “Well, try and talk to me ‘bout it.”

That was the keys to the flood gate. “Everything’s weird here!” he finally spat out. “Stell’s always talkin’ about dresses and dancin’ and all that girly stuff, and so’s Roxy, even though she hates wearin’ skirts. And Tu isn’ spendin’ as much time with me anymore, and stupid Avi keeps takin’ yer attention, and Father is busy with getting his carpentry goin’ again, and it just ain’t fair! I wanna go home!”

Oh, her poor little man. Sighing, Rima pulled Cyrus into a hug, not letting him stay stiff on her. Soon, he had his arms around her neck, sniffling in her shoulder. “Oh hun… Yer sisters are just growin’ up right now. They’ll settle down after Estelle’s big party. And Avani is almost big enough that I won’ be so busy with her.” He nodded against her shoulder, and she felt some of the tension ease out of him. “And if you know if yah ever need me or your father that we’re right here.”

“I know… I just forget sometimes…” And there was her Cy, the only one besides Estelle who had picked up Nate’s Core way of talking—though Tu was quickly picking it up too.

“It has been pretty frantic around here,” Rima agreed with a sigh. They hadn’t moved until she was well into her second trimester and almost too far along to move at all. The house had barely been settled by the time Avani came along—early, early enough that they had worried about her for quite a while. She’d also scared the dickens out of them since her hair hadn’t grown in black, like all the other children, but instead a blondish brown. Probably the closet they would ever get to Rima’s hair color in their offspring, but it had made Rima worry for quite some time.

Only now when she was a healthy, energetic little bundle of terror did Rima feel that strain easing, making it possible to see past her own nose. Thank God the Darksider practically ran itself under Seb, with just expense reports for her to sort through, and Olivia could handle Darius like a pro.

But it seemed Cyrus had gotten overlooked in the jumble a little too much. Cursing herself, she gave him another hug before pulling back. “What’s say you and I take over the kitchen for a little while?” she asked him with a grin. “We can surprise everyone else with special Mama-and-Cyrus cookies.”

His eyes lit up, and he half-dragged her out of the playroom. Laughing, she rushed him, bringing up into her arms despite him almost being too big for it. They snuck past Avani and Tu’s room, and the housekeeper was more than happy to let them make a mess of the kitchen for an hour.
Mama and Cy Time
...I honestly forgot about this one. o_o
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Humming softly, Wanda checked the oven to make sure the duck was where it was supposed to be temperature wise. Everything was alright there. She stirred the pomegranate sauce that was bubbling away on the stove, and made sure the risotto and grilled asparagus was ready. Wanda plated the dinner she’d carefully prepared, biting the inside of her lower lip so she wouldn’t ruin the garnet-colored lip stain she’d applied earlier (which theoretically, her teeth shouldn’t do in the first place, but Wanda knew probability a little too well to risk it). She took off the apron and old-button-up shirt she’d put on over her black dress. It was slightly retro, 1950’s in appearance, with a black V-neck top above a white skirt with black rose decals. She’d done her hair in a twist, slipped on a pair of black peep-toes…

Was it too much? She wasn’t certain. They’d been together for a long time, even if they had only been married for a few weeks. But the last time had been such a…well, it had not been pleasant. And she wanted this to be better. For both of them. So she’d probably gone a little overboard, but in her defense, it was easy to go overboard in her case. The twins were six and required constant attention. The mutant situations might have hit a temporary standstill, but there was no way of knowing when the next match would strike.  The school was full and flourishing, which meant as teachers they were busy. If she went a little over the top on her and John’s first date night since they’d gotten back from their honeymoon…surely no one would blame her.

Or they would at least not look at her too hard and be suspicious.

Sighing, she set the plates on the cart and pushed it out to the table set up in the arboretum. Rogue was there, helping, while Remy had the kids…for now. Wanda would be relieved when the Southern Belle joined her husband so she wouldn’t fret herself to pieces over what the thief was teaching her kids. “Finished?” she asked as she picked up the plates off the cart before Wanda had even stopped it. “It sure smells good.”

“Hope so,” she said a look at the set-up Rogue had fixed. “Has been a long time since self bothered with duck.”

“First-pronouns, Wanda.”

She made a face at the reminder. When she was nervous, she sometimes slipped back into the bad habit. And it would be a major red flag for John if she was doing it when he came downstairs. “Right, right,” she acknowledged with a restless sight as she smoothed her skirt. “I had better go find John and let him know supper is ready.”

“And Ah’ll go put the cart back in the kitchen ‘fore Ah rescue our kids from Remy,” Rogue assured her with a wink before doing exactly that.

Letting out her current breath with a whoosh, Wanda self-consciously smoothed her hair before she walked over to the small sitting room where she’d last seen John.

And he was exactly where he’d been before. Typing like a maniac on a laptop, his focus narrowed down to the words in front of him as he tried to get them to match the image in his head. At least he’d changed into a dress shirt and khakis, even if the shirt’s sleeves were rolled up and the khakis were a little wrinkled. She watched him in amusement for a moment before she walked over, draping her arms over his shoulder. “Supper’s ready,” she told him quietly, trying the gentle approach to pull him from his frenzy.

“Right,” he said absently, his fingers not stopping at all.

So much for subtle. Wanda rolled her eyes and rested her hands over his. Once given a chance, she tangled her fingers with his, making it impossible for him to type. “John, it’s date night. Supper is ready.”

“Oh, oh right!” he said, slowly coming out of his writer-place. Shaking his head, he smiled at her sheepishly. “Just let me save, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed kissing him on the cheek. She let go of one hand, not trusting him entirely if she let go of both not to go back to typing. He quickly saved and closed the laptop.

He set it down on the table in front of him, and stood up, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist. “You look amazing.”

Wanda wrinkled her nose. “You always say that.”

“It’s always true.”

Rolling her eyes at his corniness, she couldn’t stop smiling anyway. “Come on, I cooked,” she reminded him, bringing him with her to the arboretum by the hand.

Both his brows rose at the elaborate setting, and then at the tricky dinner she’d distracted herself with. “Okay, what don’t I know?” he immediately asked. Trust John to realize that she was over-fussing because of something on her mind.

“Don’t know what you are talking about,” she tried to say breezily, taking a step towards the table.

“And you’re dropping first-pronouns.”

She mentally began cursing in multiple languages.

John wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his forehead against hers. “Wanda, whatever it is, we can handle it. Till death do us part, right?”

She breathed out slowly, nodding her head a little. Looking at from under her lashes, she gave a small, hesitant smile. “John… I… We…” Oh, why could she never find the words? “Well, Lani and Will are going to have a younger sibling.”

“Yeah, we’ve been talking about having another kid, what about it?” Bless her John, he could be so dense.

Laughing, still a little nervous, Wanda wrapped her arms around his neck so he wouldn’t move. “John. Lani and Will are going to have a younger sibling in about eight months.”

It took a long moment for that to click in his head, but she knew when it did by the slow, wide smile that crossed his face. “We’re going to have a baby?” he breathed. She quickly nodded her head, her smile becoming much surer. And then shrieked in laughter when he whooped and picked her up, spinning her in a circle in his excitement.
Little Surprise
Another Christmas present, this time for NarnianQueenForever
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Laura had learned that there were a lot of strange rituals that so-called normal people went through as the weather grew colder. And since she unnerved the people her own age so much, she always just sat back quietly and listened, watched, and sometimes learned about what was going on. Like how a snowball fight wasn’t an actual fight, since the projectiles hardly caused any damage. Or how eating more than was necessarily healthy was apparently traditional on certain days, though it all appeared illogical to her.

So when garlands of greenery began to appear, wrapped around banisters and over trim, she didn’t do more than wrinkle her nose at the subtle remains of dust clinging to them. When a large evergreen tree was set in the main living room and decorated with ribbons and strange round things that were very fragile, she simply appreciated the fresh scent in the otherwise stale air of the mansion and the pleasing colors of the decorations. When whispers and giggles began to happen around her, she noticed but wasn’t certain of the reason. Annoyed with the noise, she’d taken to hiding on the grounds except for when she had to be in the mansion. Which thanks to her rather cranky personality when the noise level was irritating her wasn’t that often.

Today, she woke up with a start as footsteps pounded outside of her room. It took a long moment for her to remember that she wasn’t in the facility anymore, or in the academy, that she wasn’t in danger. Letting out her breath slowly and carefully, she swung her feet down from the bed with a scowl. She wasn’t supposed to get violent with her fellow students. She wasn’t. But right now, for the first time, she was tempted.

Opening her door, she glared at the…now empty hallway. What was going on?

The sound of loud footsteps caught her attention. Turning her head, she felt her body tense instinctively as her original entered the hallway, a cigar in his mouth. It wasn’t like she could help it. Her instincts hadn’t quite accepted yet that he was supposed to be a paternal alpha, especially since she hadn’t had one before. He looked as worn as she did by all of this fuss. He raised both eyebrows at her. “Aren’t you going downstairs with the rest of them?”

She returned the expression. “Why?”

He blinked. For once, she’s surprised him. “It’s Christmas.”

“What’s that? I have no understanding of that word.” She’d read it before, but not without any sense of context.

Logan stared at her with an expression she didn’t know how to read. “It’s… complicated,” he finally told her, “More than it should be, but… Why don’t you go downstairs, and…” He grasped for words.

“Observe?” she suggested.

“Yes. Observe. And then if you still don’t understand later, we’ll talk about it, alright?”

Considering it, she finally nodded in agreement. Logan gestured for her to walk down the hall, and she pivoted to do so, back straight and feet light as if to spite his loudness.

Downstairs, it wasn’t hard to find the other students. She winced at a particularly loud, high squeal of excitement. Did she have to go there…? Glancing behind her, Logan stared right back at her. Yes, she did. Grumbling, she snuck her way  into an empty armchair in the corner that was unofficially hers. It wasn’t difficult. Almost everyone was gathered around the tree she’d noted before, the students on the floor and the teachers who were still here on the sofas around it. There was paper, shiny and matte, printed and solid colors, ribbon everywhere… Her confusion was only growing.

Finally, she figured out that the students (and teachers, though not as many) had been given gifts, wrapped in the paper. But why? The very concept of gifts confused her, but on a day for no particular reason? She didn’t understand…and was guilty. She hadn’t gotten anything for anybody. Bringing her legs up against her chest, Laura hoped she would go unnoticed by the others.

No dice (an expression that made no sense to her). Jubilee noticed her, and smiled, though Laura could smell how nervous the teen was about something. “Laura, there’s one here for you too!” she called out.

That made no sense. Who would have gotten her a gift? Scarier thought, what had they gotten her? Dubiously, Laura accepted the package. At least it was plain, brown paper, though the bright red ribbon was pretty. The ribbon came untied, and the paper came undone without needing any urging from her. It hadn’t been taped.

Her throat caught and she stared at the gift in her lap.

It wasn’t the simple, cardboard book hidden under her bed, splattered with blood. It was hardback, leather with old-fashioned paper, the title character embossed on the front in gold along with the title and writer. A child’s fairy tale, about a non-human entity capable of conscious thought becoming a real boy, the story her mother had told her and Laura had clung to as her only hope of growing beyond being Weapon X-23. It wasn’t the simple story she had grown up with, she knew quickly just because of the sheer depth to the book. This wasn’t a passing gift for a child that was bonded to the giver tentatively through genetics. It was thoughtful, and carefully picked out.

And Laura hadn’t a clue what to say.

The leather and paper had held on to the scent of the one who wrapped it. Her original. But why…? She’d… She’d wanted to kill him! She still did, when the parts of them that were feral came into conflict.

“Thought you could use a new one,” he said gruffly from where he lingered in a doorway, watching what was going on. “Your other isn’t for every day, right? This one could be.”

Laura looked at him, her eyes itching and not sure at all what to say, lacking the social understanding to express herself.

Rogue, thankfully, solved that problem for her. She’d opened a similarly wrapped package and squealed at the contents (Laura wasn’t able to get a good look at it). Running up to Logan, she gave him a cautious hug—cautious due to her mutation, not their feelings if Laura was to judge. “Thank yah, thank yah, thank yah!” she said repeatedly before darting back to where her present was lying.

That was helpful…in a way. Laura carefully unfolded her legs and walked to where her original was standing. She…wasn’t comfortable initiating contact. But she knew what to say now. “Thank you,” she said quietly, still feeling as if the words were inadequate for what she was feeling. Her mouth was stretching in that strange way that she now recognized as the muscles pulling back to smile.

He returned her smile, and gently patted her on the head. She hated being so short compared to him—his actions slightly reinforced that she was a member of his pack, and thus he was alpha. But for once, she didn’t mind it. Instead it made her feel…warm. “You’re welcome,” he told her, and she could feel the sincerity without taking in his scent to know it was there.

She returned to her chair and carefully began to turn the pages, reading the familiar story that somehow changed a little with the more elaborate writing. That night, her new book joined the old one. The same story from both her parents, both expressing the strong belief that she was more than just a weapon. That, more than anything, gave her a feeling of warmth that made no sense, logically, but all the sense in the world at the same time.
Laura's First Christmas
Christmas present for a friend. :D
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For once, Bobbi's leather jacket was exactly the right weight for the weather. Atlanta was warmer in the day than at night, apparently, even in winter, and the evening chill hadn't had a chance to drop too far while they walked to the Morse house. She was sort of in the lead of the team right now. Sort of in the literal sense, because Clint was comfortably beside her, arm around her waist in a deliberate taunt at Nat who was dragging her feet behind them. Sort of in the usual sense, because she was the only one who knew where they were going.

It had been a surprise, getting a phone call from Clark (and Rhonda, who had started to demand to be called Rhonni). He'd wanted her to stop by, spend time with the family. And Bobbi had tried to get out of it, she had. But she'd had the stupid phone on speaker since she had also been trying to fly at the time, and Clint had agreed before she could find a good excuse why not, even pointing out they had a weekend off coming up, what serendipity. She'd smacked him upside the head as soon as she hung up, but she wasn't going to disappoint her little sister now. She also wasn't going to do this alone. Her adopted family and her blood family were about to have to meet and play nice.

She looked over her shoulder at Nat. Bobbi had even forced her big sister to promise to be nice to the adults. (She wasn't worried about Rhonni.) Clint, curse the man, was almost bouncing in excitement. She understood why. He was an orphan raised by carnies who hadn't exactly been warm and cuddly. Her family making effort to integrate her made him giddy by association. That didn't make it right that he was more excited about her family than she was...

They reached the front door, and since they were dressed like civilians, Bobbi figured they should come in the civilian way, and rang the doorbell. It was a long, awkward moment of waiting before Susan threw open the door, scowling. "You're late," she said in lieu of a greeting.

Well wasn't that just peachy. Bobbi raised both of her brows back at her. "I'm sorry, I was busy not dying," she said sarcastically...though kinda meaning it. Their team had been sent off right before they'd left on a mission that couldn't wait until Monday. And South American gun runners were the worst, since they always had their merchandise on hand to try out on you. "Do you want us to leave?"

She pressed her lips together, then glanced over her shoulder. "You were supposed to come alone."

"I was told this was family movie night." Bobbi reached over and grabbed Clint's hand. "My team is my family too." In many ways, but she wasn't going to explain to Susan. Her step-mother didn't like it, judging by her expression, but a cry from Rhonni about them missing the movie made her step back, letting the three other adults into the room. Nodding, Bobbi led the way through the house to the den like she lived there herself. She'd gotten familiar with the layout during her little break in a few weeks ago.

The den was dark, the lights all out except for the light from the TV and the digital clock of the DVD player. Rhonni beamed and waved at Bobbi from the couch. "Hurry, they're about to tell what happened to the prince!" she whispered.

Bobbi froze, hearing and feeling Clint almost run into her. Not noticing her reaction, Clark unpaused the movie, and the narrator started the story about a prince who had been cursed. Bobbi knew the words by heart...and could hear the messages behind them even without them being there this time.

Clapping her hands over her ears and clenching her eyes shut, she tried to block it out. Fear. Rage. Fight. Control.

"Zaversheniye yego!"
she half-ordered, half-pleaded. But it kept ringing through her ears, with memories of the past to reinforce it. Saying Belle's lines over and over again, pain if you got them the least wrong. Scenes that should have been innocent or even funny instead inspiring feelings of fear. "Zaversheniye yego!" Where was Natalia? Natalia helped her fight it, had helped her remember who she was after a morning of reprogramming. "Natalia!"

Hands grabbed her shoulders. It was like a snap as Bobbi--Barbara--was smothered out by Klavdiya. Her face a smooth mask, she jerked down, away from her attacker, and swept her legs out, knocking him off his feet. She looked around. Four threats, one minimal. One was familiar, but she couldn't place why. Right now, it was only eliminate threats. The familiar one, the redhead, approached cautiously, prepared for an attack. Klavdiya recognized her as the greater threat. Circling carefully, she looked for a weakness, blocking the words sh was saying. Not seeing anything to exploit, she decided she needed to take her by surprise. She rushed her, going for a punch first. The redhead dodged, tried to use her arm to throw her.

Klavdiya let the throw roll her, and then came at her from behind, grabbing her by the head. She got the appropriate grip, preparing to snap her neck.

A hard force grabbed her from behind, throwing her on to the floor with a thud. She gritted her teeth to keep from crying out as her head whacked against the carpet. The male from the beginning had recovered. He pinned her legs to the ground first with his knees, then her shoulders with his forearm, both her wrists in one hand. She glared up at him, sneering. "Vy dumayete, chto vy vyigrali?" she asked.

He said something over her head to someone--probably the redhead--refusing to break eye contact with Klavdiya. He broke it only briefly to glare at something, but when she tried to use the opportunity to free herself, she was right back to the center of his attention. She kept her face smooth, though there was something about his that was even more familiar than the redhead's... And then he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers hard. Startled, her body stiffened under his, wondering what this was about.

But she knew this kiss. They hadn't had much of a chance, because... Because her sister didn't like it. Bobbi breathed in slowly, kissing Clint back gently to let him know that she was back in her right mind again. He pulled back, and she gave him a weak smile, blinking to keep tears back. She licked her dry lips. "Did I mention I really, really can't stand Disney movies?" She closed her eyes, trying to get her brain to settle.

"I'm sorry," Clark said from somewhere to the side, sounding shocked. "It... It was your favorite, before..."

Bobbi shuddered. Before she'd been remade and it had been part of the process. Opening her eyes, she glared at Clint. "Are you done pinning me to the floor?"

He snickered and said, "For now, if you promise not to knock my feet out from underneath me again. I hit the wall on the way down."

"Klutz," she accused. She didn't get what he'd found so funny, so she was going to ignore it. "I'll try to keep it to the practice mats." Clint nodded and got off of her. They shifted so she was being held in his lap, and Bobbi hid her face in his neck as Natalia--no, Natasha, she went by Natasha now--tried to explain to Bobbi's father why his daughter had almost tried to kill everyone in the room, without losing her temper.
Once Upon a Nightmare
Agent Carter is full of little nuggets about how the RRA trains its girls.

Russian Phrases in italics mean: "Shut it off!" and "You think you've won?"
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Eva-Emaria's Profile Picture
Eva-Emaria
Rebecca
United States
Fantasy is my life.


Current Residence: Um... Near OU now instead of on campus
Favourite genre of music: Rock/Alternative
Favourite style of art: Anime/Cartoon
MP3 player of choice: I've been converted! I use Google Play on my Samsung now.
Favourite cartoon character: While Sesshi-kins and Kaiba-hun are still favs, I've gone back to my childhood of the 90's. Bring on the Bugs Bunny!
Personal Quote: "Oh dear." I also call people duckie... or hun, or darlin'... child if you've really done something silly...
Interests
And last, but certainly not least, the only unofficial member of the guard. I guess you would call her a page at this point, and then she'll be a squire in her teen years...? I don't know, but yeah.

Name: Elspeth “the Bold”
Age: 10
Height: 4’ 3”
Weight: 70
Swan Type: Blacked-Neck ( www.williamoptics.com/wo_gal/c… )
Weapon Specialty: Learning broadsword and shield
Home Region: Unknown (the Lake)
Parents: Starr and Val
Personality: She definitely lives up to her nickname. Fear isn’t even in Elspeth’s vocabulary, and just watch her charge right into any situation with a hellion’s whoop. An active little thing, she loves dancing and darting all over the village, running around with other children in little flocks. But she’s still a little girl, and any kind of pain will send her into tears. She has a plush white rabbit lovey that she hides under her covers until bedtime named Snuggles, who if he’s any less than pristine white, tears will be had. Her favorite food is apple pocket pies, and like all children everywhere, it’s a chore to get her to eat her veggies. She has no real concept of diplomacy, and with a child’s bluntness, she will say what she thinks, though thankfully she has been taught not to offer an opinion unless asked.
Bio: Adopted by a cousin of her birth mother as just a baby when her mother returned from her cape being stolen pregnant, Elspeth is being raised by who she considers her real fathers, Starr and Val. To avoid picking a favorite, she hasn’t taken either of their names for her surname, and as a result is referred to somewhat jokingly as “the Bold” instead. The Lake is the only home she’s ever known, especially among the male guards, Daddy-Val serving as one of them while Daddy-Starr serves as their quartermaster. Starr is teaching her how to use a blade (it’s…early days yet).

Elspeth has quickly come to idolize the Champion’s Guard, and is quite insistent that one day she will serve with them, maybe even be Lady Champion. She made a bit of a pest of herself with Eira for a long time. However, because Eira is used to small children, she quickly sought out Elspeth’s parents and reached an agreement. While Eira is in the Lake or anywhere horribly formal, she serves as a page or squire of sorts, eventually getting training under some of the guards. Elspeth takes her duties quite seriously, and is quickly becoming a favorite among the guard members. She isn’t old enough to have her cape yet, but can’t wait to turn thirteen so she can and be considered a real swan maiden.

Eventually, Elspeth will grow up and serve as Eira’s second, once Tore, Jordis, and Rowen have all retired.

Part 1: eva-emaria.deviantart.com/jour…
Part 2: eva-emaria.deviantart.com/jour…
Part 3: eva-emaria.deviantart.com/jour…
Part 4: eva-emaria.deviantart.com/jour…
Part 5: eva-emaria.deviantart.com/jour…
Part 6: eva-emaria.deviantart.com/jour…
Part 7: eva-emaria.deviantart.com/jour…
Part 8: eva-emaria.deviantart.com/jour…
Part 9: eva-emaria.deviantart.com/jour…
Part 10: eva-emaria.deviantart.com/jour…
Part 11: eva-emaria.deviantart.com/jour…
Part 12: eva-emaria.deviantart.com/jour…
Part 13: Here

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:iconbeastthedog15:
Beastthedog15 Featured By Owner Jan 11, 2017
Happy B-Day Mate
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:iconeva-emaria:
Eva-Emaria Featured By Owner Jan 11, 2017
Why thank you!
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:iconpinkythepink:
pinkythepink Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2016  Professional Artisan Crafter
:love: Thank you for the favorites, it really means ever so much to me that you enjoy my artwork! I invite you to add me to your watch so that you can see all the future beaded and stitched pieces I have planned! :blowkiss: Just think of the sparkles... :squee:
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:iconeva-emaria:
Eva-Emaria Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2016
Thanks, I just saw the pretty and had to favorite. Thank you! (I'm former playdays/rodeos, trust me, sparkles are my krptonite.)
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:iconpinkythepink:
pinkythepink Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2016  Professional Artisan Crafter
I understand. :stare:
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:iconrav3g1rl17:
RaV3G1rL17 Featured By Owner Jan 11, 2015  Student General Artist
Happy Birthday!! birthday cake happy DA B-day :3 Happy Birthday Godliek :D 
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:iconieshianicole33:
Ieshianicole33 Featured By Owner Mar 19, 2014  Student Writer
Oh, I forgot to mention: I'm writing a Sly Cooper fanfiction too! I have it on my DA profile if you want a link!
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:iconmorigalaxy:
Morigalaxy Featured By Owner Jul 13, 2013  Professional Digital Artist
:icongardevoircurtsie1plz::icongardevoircurtsie2plz::icongardevoircurtsie3plz::icondbthx4::icondbthx5::icondbthx6:
:icongardevoircurtsie4plz::icongardevoircurtsie5plz::icongardevoircurtsie6plz::icongardevoircurtsie7plz:
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:iconobsidiandevil:
obsidiandevil Featured By Owner Jul 2, 2013
thanks for the fav
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:icontixielix:
TixieLix Featured By Owner Jun 19, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the kitties fave ^^
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