#mjolnirswield

                    "        you're  following  me.        "        he  stated  as  he  stepped  out  from  behind  rogers'  blindspot.  his  voice  scratched  uncomfortably  against  his  throat.  too  long  without  speaking.  he  shook  off  the  discomfort,  keeping  himself  well  out  of  arms  reach.        "        i  want  you  to  stop.        "

THE STORM HAD BEEN COMING FOR AWHILE and there was no turning back. it had been building over time, an odd tension between them like the way the air felt thick before a hurricane. they had been assigned different missions now and while they had learned how to do their jobs around the other, that didnt mean that it worked. when it came to protecting civilians and each other, they were completely on the same wave length. they both had a penchant for self sacrificing recklessness, there was no doubt about that—but thats where the camaraderie ended. he was a mess of boy scout morality and stubborn ideals that made her want to punch him that that pretty face of his.  “ are you trying to say that it was my fault? ” she spun around toward, an expression of righteous anger and astonishment. the mutant they were tracking was in the wind again, mostly because the captains scruples on forcibly getting the information out of someone turned into a series of events that ended with someone tipping their mark off. at least, thats how she saw it. with a pull of the leather strap, she placed her shoulder holster onto the small hotel table with a clunk. “ i know youre geriatric but i didnt think your memory was going. see, what i remember is that we—” she pointed between the two of them as she walked up to him, not caring that she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. she shouldnt have taken off her boots yet. “—had the means and opportunity to find out where he was hiding out but YOU— ” her pointer finger poked into his solid chest. “—didnt like it! ”     

SHE MIGHT HAVE MISCALCULATED THE EFFECT plucking at the tension that came so easily to them. before that night, it had been suffocating, filling the spaces between them until they clawed at each other to breathe. she had spent her life fighting for every inch the world had to give until the miles she had gained meant nothing without the struggle. somewhere she had carved a chasm inside herself to fill with all her anger, her rage, until she could pull from it like a well. it was as bottomless as it was ruthless. he had that anger too, that fight that came from his bones. so that night she had given him a choice—we can fight or we can fuck, but this tension needs to end so pick one. he did and it was good, well, way better than good. it reminded her that if he wasnt a good man, she wouldnt have even suggested it. plus, it was hard to go toe to toe with someone youve seen naked.  the problem? she was painfully aware of him in a way that had nothing to do with anger. the necromancer watched him walk across the room toward her, the blue button up stretched over the swell of his biceps and across his chest in a way that almost looked like it was a size too small. she knew that wasnt the reason. her dark eyes drank him in, remembering how his thighs felt under her hands, how his skin tasted, the way he sounded when she— he stepped into her space and she took a sharp inhale at the hum of power that was suddenly much closer to her than she had expected him to stop. she set her lips into a frown, controlled except for the heat she couldnt take from her dark eyes. with a wall behind her, she had to crane her next back to look up at him with how close he was. he leaned down, bending to place his lips next to her ear. the smell of his cologne and the hum of power under his skin felt like a someone had wrapped her in a blanket. her power knew his now, how it thrummed at the proximity almost begging her to touch him. she didnt and it wouldve been stifling if not for the fact that she could almost feel the small smile on his lips. “ are you going to stick to the plan this time? ”  had he said that weeks ago, she wouldve been tempted to threaten the whole mission if he didnt get out of her face and stop treating her like a child. to her surprise, and probably his, that anger wasnt there this time. there was no tension filling the spaces between them, not the kind of tension that was there before. she didnt feel insulted or think that he was going to ruin everything. instead there was a sense of tentative trust and enough rapport that made him more into a friend than a potential enemy. good sex would do that.  “ this time we go by your plan, captain, ” she whispered, her cheek brushing against his in the closeness, his title rolling off her tongue like warm chocolate. “ when it goes wrong, im going to take it out on you. ” somehow, those words no longer sounded like a threat when she said it like that. maybe ‘friend’ wasnt the right word.

despite her firm belief that she is not a hero, anita tends to have a lot of brave moments. one of them that is in both the comic and the book is that she put her life on the line to not only help correctly raise a corpse but to save another necromancer from execution. this man was being forced to raise a witness from their grave by a sect of vampires so they could find out who slaughtering their kind while they slept. the man was abusing the zombie who is just a frightened person, unsure of why theyre back in the living. the zombie cant get any words out and the man keeps beating it for answers. the vampires are threatening to kill him if the zombie doesnt speak. anita leaves her stake out to confront them, promising to do a better job if they let the man live and put the abused zombie back in the ground. she ends up raising another witness and getting some answers, ultimately saving the mans life. come to find out, he was already dead and using voodoo to keep himself from alive by killing innocent people. that was part of the reason his blood to wasnt strong enough to keep his zombies focus when animating it. all to say is that she has a lot of courageous moments because she does feel a deep compassion for people despite her prickly exterior. shes hard headed, stubborn and a little arrogant so she’ll be the first to put her life on the line for others. now if “others” were people she deemed as “bad”, that compassion doesnt stretch as far. 

❝  have  you  spoken  to  thor?  ❞    the  question  comes  almost    too    casually,    almost  suggesting  that  perhaps  everything  is  fine.    that  the  king  of  asgard  has  not  fallen  to  his  grief.    ❝  i've  not  seen  him  since  my  return  from  vanaheim---    is  he  well?  ❞

q:   how does your muse handle grief ? not well. anita doesnt know how to express sadness. whenever she had in the past, its been used against her or it would make her necromancy act out which would only alienate her more. her grief comes in the form of anger and fury, especially if people are around. for instance, when someone close to her died, she didnt cry at the funeral or even in the moment. she was pissed off at the asshole who were playing up their grief by throwing themselves on the casket and she was ready to cut down the persons killer without hesitation. thats what everyone saw. but when she went home, on her own, she cried in the shower. she cant allow herself to just feel sadness or grief, everything in her wants to take action, to make it right or fix it.  she has a very complicated relationship with the dead and the living so her grief with such things are just as complicated.