Yeliza Doesn't Wear Lip Gloss And Only Wears Lipstick On Some Occasions, But Uses Strawberry Flavored

The person I reblogged this from is awesome as fuck.

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“ DON'T FLATTER YOURSELF ” A rasp — dry and sharp. Something close to a smile ghosts along her mouth, but it doesn’t reach the eyes. Hasn’t in a while. Shoulders stiffen, back pressed into the wall behind her as if distance might soften the weight of everything said ( and unsaid ).

“ You always were better at cleaning things up. ” Tone isn't bitter, but there's a tired edge that frays each word like worn cloth. “ I just made sure the kid didn’t fucking die and somehow I am the villain in Fury's narrative. ”

Tension anchoring between shoulder blades. The kind that doesn't go away with retirement or therapy or whatever bullshit word they try to package normal with these days.

“ You think I wanted to get involved ?? ” A scoff, barely breath. “ I left them for a reason ” No names. No need. Not with Natalia. They both did — left that behind. The locked rooms. The orders barked in cold languages. The kind of freedom you only earn by bleeding for it. Something flickers across pallid features — something tight and momentary, she doesn’t look at nat, but the silence between them stretches long enough to say i know you remember it too.

“ but you see a man raise a gun at a kid and you tell me what you do.” A breath pushes out, sharp through her nose, hand twitching near the untouched glass at her side. “ Fury's going to come for me anyway. Doesn’t matter if you’re first through the door or the last. You and I both know how this plays out. ”

The hand finally moves — not to pour, not yet, but to slide the glass just slightly across the kitchen surface. A soft clink, delicate despite everything in her posture saying don’t push me.

“And you're stopping it ?? Means I owe you again. ” A beat. Then, quieter “ And I fucking hate owing you. ”

❛ sounds familiar. ❜ breathy snort flares nostrils though its lined with a tinge of amusement over annoyance. SHE'S NOT HERE TO JUDGE ; no. natalia romanovna is a lot of things , but a hypocrite isn't one of them. hence why she chose to show up first on her own accord before anyone else caught wind of the situation. head tilts off to one side , digits drumming along table surface as widow follows eliza's every move.

❛ and so you stepped in and intervened. ❜ less of a question and more reverberating the FACTS. ❛ kid's lucky you were around then. ❜ there's also that distinct lack of performance in her tone as natalia watches on. a sigh parting lips before she'd removed the sunglasses looming over the bridge of her nose. she means the words that fall from the tip of her tongue. that kid ? he was lucky.

❛ and you know that i hate it when you're listening to my heartbeat. ❜ head now tipping off in the opposite direction. ❛ ------- WELL. since you're listening to it. tell me , does it seem like i'm lying so far ? fury is going to want to rain hell down on you if ... no , WHEN he finds out. i , on the other hand , intend on stopping that before it happens , against his better judgement. ❜

the drumming comes to a halt as all tips of fingers press down against surface at the same time. this game ? this ACT they're forced to put up with for the sake of " diplomacy " ( its exhausting. draining even. ) ❛ NO. ❜ the initial response , single brow now rising up.

❛ no , i don't think you did. i think you were put in a situation where something needed to be done and no one else was willing to do it. that you were dealt a hand and you simply played the cards given to you. i think this entire situation could have been dealt with a lot cleaner than it was , but it was dealt with. and that's all that's important. .... still think i'm lying, or are you finally going to pour a glass ? ❜

                          Eyes watching the movement of the other,  she notes the furrowing brow. She understands, akin. they are both a product of  war.     beneath   their   skin,   the   trenches   run   deep,   filled   with   blood   and   mud.  A   potent   brew   at   the   back   of   the   tongue; war   tastes   the   same   no   matter   who   fights   it.   

Sharp inhale, cold wind settles within lungs. Trust doesn't come easy yet something nestled between the others words allows Eliza to relax. Posture softens a little, shoulders lowering. “ hmm ”  a beat, “ okay, good ... but I will ask you something then. If you weren't following the rumours of a monster that resides up here ... then why are you here ?? ”  russian lit drips from her words as she leans back into her seat, curiosity raises a brow towards the other. If the pale blonde wasn't looking for the dormant beast within then what ... Lips  twitch  into  a  smile  ---------  still  unsteady,  still  unsure  ---------  “ look, you're welcome to spend the night. I have supplies. Take what you need but I will need you gone by the morning ” 

whatever they told you ,  it’s a lie .

❝  I'm  getting  so  tired  of  hearing  those  words.  ❞   Mumbled  mostly  to  herself.   Under  her  breath  in  a  thick  accent  that  can  be  recognized  anywhere.   She  used  to  be  more  cautious  about  it.   Better  at  masking  the  accent.         (  she  gave  up  on  that  when  it  became  less  of  a  problem.  )   Pale  blonde  head  turns  to  look  over  her  shoulder  to  @spybiote.   Her  brow  furrowed  ,  as  if  trying  to  read  and  animals  behavior.   Maybe  that  was  what  she  was  doing.         (  maybe  that  was  simply  what  she  had  done  by  default  for  so  long.  )   She's  ready  to  hear  her  out  at  least.   She  of  all  people  would  know  what  that's  like.   ❝  Я  последний  человек,  которого  вам  нужно  в  этом  убеждать.  ❞   It's  not  cruel.   Not  angry.   But  serious.   The  only  mode  she  seemed  to  have  anymore.   There  had  been  a  time  when  that  face  lit  up  bright  as  fresh  winter  snow.   Now  it  only  wore  expressions  of  caution  ,  and  exhaustion.   ❝  We  don't  have  to  talk  about  it.   I  won't  ask  questions.  ❞

Just a quick clarification for anyone writing or plotting with me — Yes, Yeliza did marry her universe’s Bucky Barnes and they did a daughter together (RIP). That said, she fully understands that every Bucky variant is different, with their own unique backgrounds, experiences, and lives. She doesn’t see any of them as a replacement for her husband, and they definitely aren’t automatically shipped just because of who he was to her. There’s so much more room for different dynamics between them, depending on the story we build together!

NAMES YELIZA GOES BY

Yeliza/Eliza

The Hybrid ( specifically during her time under the KGB )

Mayhem

April ( for certain muses and this must be discussed before )

Yelizaveta Voronstova

Changeling ( specifically norman osborn )

If your muse had a sound track who would feature on it? For Yeliza it's Florence And The Machine and Ashnikko and Poppy

*   ━━━━━━━━━━━━ @warender: ‘ you’re getting sloppy. ’ !!!

GLOVED KNUCKLES SKIM AIR — deliberate, restrained. She could end this if she wanted to, could drive Yana down into the dust like an afterthought. Instead, she lets the former widow dance along the frayed edges of her patience.

The words land harder than any strike. Something coils in Yeliza’s chest — pride, or perhaps the restless thing curled beneath her skin, thrumming to be unleashed. A grin cuts across her mouth, thin and wolfish. Fine. If that’s the game Yana wanted to play.

The next strike comes faster, knuckles grazing ribs with just enough force to leave a memory. “  Careful, ” she scoffs as her posture squares back up, “ poke the beast too many times and you might just get bitten. ”

LEANING BACK AGAINST THE KITCHEN COUNTER; elbows resting behind her. Posture relaxes but only a little. There was a time Eliza would joke about how they were cut from the same cloth - soviet made, coarse and unyeilding. Stitched into two different patterns. Eliza used to laugh at that. Now it just echoed.

Her voice, when it came, wasn’t defensive. It was deliberate. ❛ I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be, doing something no one asked me to do. ❜ A beat . ❛ Sound familiar ?? ❜ Brow raised in her direction

The bottle caught a glint of light on the counter, untouched. She didn’t offer to pour. Didn’t ask why Natalia was really there — because they both knew that game was past its prime. She exhaled, slow. Deliberate. ❛ Last week … I was making sure someone’s kid didn’t end up in a grave meant for their father. ❜ Her eyes flicked up, sharp and unblinking. There was no performance in her tone, no effort to soften the truth.

❛ I’m not gonna insult you with a lie. You came for answers, so I won’t dance around it. I'll tell you what you want to hear but first, I want you to answer something for me. ❜ she pushes herself up from the counter and circles around to grab the bottle of wine, eyes glance to the label then back to the redhead ❛ I want the truth, and besides, you know I can hear your heart beating and if you lie ... i'll know ❜ A faint curl of bitterness tugging at her mouth. ❛ Do you really think I wanted to play boogie monster again ?? ❜

❛ and here i thought you LOVED my visits. i even brought a bottle with me this time around. ❜ rehearsed smile is met by rehearsed smile. this dance being all to familiar to natalia ; the smoke show. the faux smiles and forced courtesies. it was always more refreshing when the point was forced to the forefront over the litany of games that needed to be played.

❛ SEE. i know you're retired. but some people aren't too convinced still. like fury ... april. where were you last week ? and before you give me the scripted and rehearsed answer , i'm trying to help you. no one knows i came to you FIRST. ❜