#theblackestspider

[taleswrittena]

@the-blackest-spider sent ❰ BED ❱❱ our muses share a bed - for Sebastian

self indulgent meme

status: accepting

Sleep is more of a luxury for the demon than anything else. He doesn't actually need sleep, so he almost doesn't even bother with the bed, completely content with just standing around and watching over her.

They're at some hotel for some misison and apparently the only room they had was a one-bedroom to which Sebastian had told the hotel clerk that is fine because he does not need sleep. It granted him a puzzled look that only made Sebastian smirk at the woman before walking away with Natasha to their room.

In a few moments, he decides he will join her on the bed. She seems restless, as if something is on her mind, and he figures the closeness will help her. Not that he cares much to begin with. At least, not about her comfort. He's more curious about what is making her so restless.

Sitting down onto the bed beside her, he shifts to where he is sitting with his back against the wall, crimson eyes looking at her from his spot. Head tilts as he observes her.

"Something on your mind, Natalia?"

[the-mjolnir-owner]

😍 forever.

Send 😍 if your muse finds mine attractive @the-blackest-spider

"Likewise, kjærlighet."

[traumamade]

He wants to protest and tell her he's fine but something tells him that no matter how much he protests, she'll be winning this battle. So, Leon sighs and relents, moving to lay back down so that he isn't moving too much.

"The mission seemed more important." Leon huffs - he's fine, that's what matters, right? "Besides, I can handle a lot more than you think." In fact, this will be healed completely in a couple of days, he'll be fine.

Though, she doesn't know that. She hasn't seen his healing factor at work so he can not blame her for being so worried. Her plead makes his expression soften and for Leon to give a slight nod of his head, "Alright." He does not promise but it is an implication that he will try.

Once inside and being fussed over by the medical team, Leon's eyes narrow at them in suspicion. He's never really liked medical teams or being looked over or treated like some kind of lab rat.

He insists he's fine and they keep fussing over him which only serves to irritate Leon. Too much medical staff, too much trauma surrounding stuff like that and this time, his tone grows colder.

Anyone who knows him, knows this tone is a threat. If they don't back off, he'll put them on their ass. "I said I'm fine, let me go before I make you."

Relief at the sound of movement, which also instantly sends Natasha into motion herself, moving to stop Leon from doing anything to make the situation worse.

"Hey, try to remain still, okay, I just got the bleeding to stop," her tone was gentle, yet somehow still demanding as she looked down at him, offering an encouraging smile.

"Landing at the Tower now, I let'em know what's going on," Clint informed them while beginning the descent of the quinjet.

The fact Leon was alert, was a good thing and it allowed Natasha to relax a little bit, but it did not take away her concern, or worry, that wouldn't happen until he was patched up and on his way to healing properly.

"Next time, don't wait until you're dropping on me, say how bad it is, please." That last word came out almost begging, and her hand shook ever so slightly while she pushed the hair back from his forehead.

In mere moments, the back of the quinjet was feeling rather crowded, very trusted medical personnel that Tony had on staff came in to collect Leon and also make sure none of the blood Natasha had on her was her own. None of them tried to stop the redhead from following them, she wasn't going to leave him alone.

Inside, Natasha picked a corner and stayed in it while the med team worked to deal with the injury Leon had gotten, green eyes following their every movement, ears picking up everything they said, and of course keeping track of him the entire time.

He's going to be okay, he's going to be okay…

Over and over Natasha repeated that to herself quietly inside her head.

[traumamademoved]

@the-blackest-spider​ sent [ bed ] sender crawls into bed next to receiver

Perhaps Leon gives off the illusion that he is asleep but he’s not. He hears her footsteps as she creeps into his room. She’s lucky that he can recognize her or else she may have gotten a knife thrown at her but he recognizes her scent and the way she moves.

The dip of the bed lets him know she has crawled into his bed and blue eyes flutter open as his head turns to look at her. Is this the first time he’s had her in his bed? The last time they were in a bed together, it had been her room and not this one - the one assigned to him.

Not that it matters anyway.

“Mm. Can’t sleep? Or did you just miss me that much, Bambina?”

[agentsterling]

Sterling hadn't been expecting to feel entirely different overnight since they lowered his dosage of PTSD meds. He was functioning basically the same as the higher doses of meds made their way out of his system. Sleep was still elusive but with a baby in the house that was to be expected. Still, when he did sleep it was deeper and he stayed asleep longer as far as Ara allowed it. Even she was beginning to sleep a little longer each night as she got older. He could see the change in her as each day rolled by and soon he began seeing the changes in himself.

Some not for the better.

He first noticed his walls starting to come down one morning after he'd had one too many cups of coffee to compensate for the sleepless night before. A headache and lack of sleep were subtle trigger enough on their own but he began to notice a gentle buzzing of the light fixture above him in his office, something he'd never really noticed before in the higher dosage of meds. It wasn't altogether triggering but the buzz, in his more fragile state, reminded him of the buzz of electricity from the car battery Merc was about to touch his chair with in that warehouse. The moments he resigned himself to a most violent death.

Hours later he felt the heel of his left leg began to bounce rapidly with his increased agitation and he rubbed his face of the cold sweat that started gathering on his forehead. He put down his pen and tried to breathe through it, using those techniques his therapist had taught him. It helped some, but he wondered if perhaps he should go home for the day. It only seemed to be getting worse and his focus was suffering because of it.

He had decided to stop by the break room that afternoon to grab a slice of an agent's birthday cake they were storing in the fridge when someone beside him began running water from the sink. His grip on the handle of the refrigerator door tightened and his breathing shook with the effort to stay present. This was what he was doing this for. To confront his triggers and finally ride through them. He knew he would have bad days like this but the hope was that he could get through them without incident. If he went home every time someone around him ran water he couldn't function and he couldn't have that. He had to calm down.

Sterling groped the air beside him and took a seat at one of the break room tables to steady himself but when a familiar voice he hadn't heard in a while echoed in the room he visibly jumped in his chair.

‘You know they aren’t going to find your body, right?’

Sterling pressed the heel of his left palm into the side of his head, a habit he picked up to ease the pressure of the headache Merc's voice usually brought.

"Stop it." He whispered to the auditory hallucination in his head. He'd been told to ignore Merc. He'd been told to drown him out with music or conversation, but that's usually when he got louder. Deafeningly so. He was afraid to try it now, in public, but he closed his eyes and tried to breathe through, ignoring the voice. However, the voice ignored his request right back.

‘Repeat after me, Agent Sterling.’

He slammed his fist into the table of the break room as if hoping to startle the voice into submission when all it accomplished was making him look unstable. His eyes stayed cast down and the perspiration on his pale face increased the more nervous the voice made him. He ran his fingers into his hair and kept them there, gripping his head. Breathe, Sterling. Breathe through it. It's ok. You've got this.

“Sorry.” Sterling whispered, not looking up but holding out a hand to anyone who might still be in the room. He didn’t mean to surprise or startle anyone because he was having a bit of a break down.

@the-blackest-spider

[storiesungmoved]

@the-blackest-spider​ sent “ Okay ,   you  being  dramatic  is  not  going  to  help  us  find  a  way  to  fix  this . ” (for Grimmjow because clearly we need more threads and Nat wants to poke at him specifically lol)

“Oh, us?” There’s a pull at his lips as he tries to fight the smug and michevious smile that threatens to cross his features. “Funny. Last I heard there wasn’t an us.” More like a her against him and now all of a sudden they’re an ‘us’?’ A welcome change of events but not something Grimmjow is going to just let happen without some teasing first. “Thought you wanted as far away from me as possible. Now you want my help? Heh. Say please.”

[storiesungaa]

@the-blackest-spider​ gets a starter​ from Ada

The world has gone to shit again because of course it has? When is it not going to shit? With greedy corporations in control and villains everywhere - and not just the super villain kind - it’s hard to keep the world from going to hell in a hand basket. 

Once more there’s a zombie outbreak. This time within the city of New York. Home of the Avengers - Ada wants to laugh, those so called super heroes have never seen this kind of thing, they won’t stand a chance against mutated zombies. The only one that really stands a chance is her former friend (enemy?) Natasha Romanoff. 

Which is why she’s here, at an agreed upon meeting place, to speak to the other Spy. Too many ears at the Avengers Headquarters, the spy had refused to talk there. She’d chosen a secluded spot, away from zombies, and what little zombies were here she cleared from zombies.

Footsteps approach, entering the old abandoned warehouse and Ada spins around, crossbow aimed - arrow at the ready and finger near the trigger before she sees it’s Natasha and it lowered. “About time you showed up.” She states, placing the crossbow in its spot upon her back.

“I believe someone within SHIELD has done this.” Straight to business, as usual. “I need your help getting the virus.”

[khakerskayavdova-a]

@the-blackest-spider​ requested a starter.

                ❝ the people responsible for red room. the ones who made us the way we are... would you ever forgive one of them? ❞

               the words technically, grammatically, form an understandable phrase in english. but they feel like nonsense as they come out of her mouth. worse than nonsense, even. illogical. unhinged, perhaps. and as soon as the words are out she almost wants to take them back. 

[traumamadearch]

As I said, I don't know a lot about Leon, but as fair as I'm concerned you make him come to life like you do with any character you write, and you manage such a good balance with his struggles and issues and also having him be able to joke and flirt and all that, you don't focus on just one part of who he is, you explore him and give us all an in depth portrayal.

Anonymously send me your favorite detail about how I play my character.

I will publish and respond OOC.

ahhh thank you so much! he's such a multilayered complex character and I am so happy you think I do that justice <3

[storieswrittcnarch]

@the-blackest-spider​ sent Seeing Cloud was something Natasha tried to avoid, but today it was not going to happen. Green eyes cut to the familiar blonde head before returning to the citizen of the slums before her that had stopped her during her patrol to make her aware of recent robberies being done by the bandits, “thank you for bringing this to our attention, we’ll look into it,” and she wasn’t just saying it to pacify the man, she intended to head for the tunnels and do just that. // ask and ye shall receive :)

Seeing her, Cloud almost wants to turn around and walk away but the irritation that spikes up at her taking a job from him is enough to make him stay. Mako-infused eyes narrow at the woman before him as the citizen thanks her and then walks away. A beat of silence while he waits for the man to walk out of earshot before Cloud is turning his attention back to Natasha.

“Torturing me wasn’t enough? Now you have to take my jobs from me?”

[taleswrittena]

tag drop

[the-mjolnir-owner]

@the-blackest-spider continued from here

“I should say it more often,” he admitted, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, “life is very fleeting and we believe we have eternity available for us. But we don’t.”

[traumamade]

it feels like a lazy day and he had finally gotten some decent sleep so when she pokes his cheek, he groans at her interrupting it. He was so close to drifting right back to sleep when she poked him like that.

Blindly, with his eyes closed, he tries to swat gently at her hand as if to silently say 'stop that' and when she pokes his cheek a second time, blue eyes flutter open to look at her.

"Mm. The plan was to sleep more but clearly, that's not on your agenda." He muses, although playfully. He's far from irritated about it, he should probably get up anyway. "I don't know. I'm not used to having days off."

@traumamade Liked for a Starter

A day to lay low and just do whatever was a nice thing to be sure, but Natasha never knew what to do with those kind of days, how to function like a quote normal person, whatever that was. Her idea of normal was, well, chaos for the fly, as the saying went.

One thing she found acceptable about such a day, was waking up with a familiar warm body next to hers. Often times it was almost a race between them as to who got up first to start the day, but at least together they were getting some sleep, the together part helped immensely.

Stretching a little, Natasha turned onto her back and looked up at the ceiling, most of the time it was Leon's room that he had been given in Stark Tower they ended up in, sometimes hers but rarely. Either way, she helped herself to whatever shirt he had been wearing that day to sleep in.

"We have a day off…" Natasha commented, reaching over to lightly poke Leon's cheek, "Well unless something happens, but what do you want to do, hm?" She poked him again, clearly in a teasing, playful mood.

[traumamademoved]

@blackstardiopside​ sent [ INCAPACITATE ] : sender knocks out receiver's attacker. (She's using her handgun up and screaming a lot at the attacker)

One minute he’s struggling with his attacker, the next the attacker drops like a fly and the stranger is yelling at the attacker, a string of things that Leon finds hard to keep up with. He probably could have handled this himself but the sight before him is so amusing to him.

“Hey - you knocked them out. They can’t hear you but I can. Though, not for sure for how long with the way you’re screaming.”

[agentsterling]

Sterling and the team got to the safehouse a bit before Eira and wasted no time laying Germaine out on the wide kitchen table. It was so eerie seeing him so still like this again. It seemed lately Germaine was far too often in this state and Sterling was starting to deeply regret adding him to the team, for the android’s own safety. He’d never needed repairs like this before and of course never so frequently. He wondered if SHIELD would get to the point where they would fight to have him decommissioned from the repair costs alone. But perhaps Eira helping would keep that discussion at bay. 

He still wasn’t sure if he could fully trust Eira as much as he felt he could in his gut, but he also didn’t fully trust Nat with all her secret agendas and side missions. Perhaps leaving the two of them together to work on it would hold each other accountable for making sure Germaine was repaired properly. 

And with Hartell in the mix, knowing he had Germaine’s best interest at heart, well, it seemed everyone would keep the other in check. It was a solid team. 

When he heard the door he quickly opened it for her and checked behind her to make sure she wasn’t followed before ushering her in. 

“He’s right this way.” He said, guiding her with a gentle hand on her upper back. “Eira Sparks, this is Agent Ray Hartell, you know Agent Romanoff, and this is Agent Germaine Shepherd, your patient.” He motioned to the very realistic looking man laying face up on the kitchen table. 

@hxrbingxr

[huntingbounties]

Tracking Nobody

@the-blackest-spider

     Are you following or falling out?      I could be right, I could be wrong      I couldn't care at all      Saving my life or wasting my time      Won't make a difference      We dig so deep, we have gone through the bottom

      Roman’s lips moved to the words of the song playing through his earbuds as he stopped at a rack of clothes, his hands pushing some of the coats apart to get a look at the color of a black one he spotted. The sleeves looked well and intact, the elbows patched over decently enough. His last encounter with a knife left his old jacket in ribbons. Shame, he grew to really like it. The inside pockets were a big bonus. 

      He parted the jacket to feel the insides, his fingers looking for little slits in it when his eyes caught a familiar red. His hands stopped what they were doing as his blues focused in on the person on the other side of the racks from him.

      Natasha. 

      Last he saw her, they were chasing the same trafficking mob boss at a shipping depot. She allowed him to take the hand he wanted once they finished him off, but the body was left to be hers. As far as he guessed, she must’ve been a mercenary like him chasing some price on the bastards head. He didn’t expect to see her again, but whenever he did see her type of people a second time, it didn’t mean well for him.

      His jaw tightened as a hand pulled one of his earbuds out, eyes locked onto the woman perusing through the clothes that were definitely too big for someone her size. Sure, she could’ve been looking for something for someone else and this was just a coincidence, but believing in such things was what got many people in their business killed. 

     His blood ran cold. The music that he was breathing to now meant little. She had his full attention. 

     “Romanoff.”