Holy freaking...*flails* I SHOULD NOT HAVE SAT DOWN TO READ THE ENTIRETY OF THIS VERSE AT ONCE. I am having serious problems here, Bee, on account of my brain. being. destroyed. You put Natasha reclaiming herself in this thing and you. You.
Right, did I just say the relgious dynamic came out more clearly in Bob's fics in this verse than yours? Should have kept my mouth shut lol. I added some thoughts on relgion in a comment to Bob over here but yours has slipped right into it now as well with the ritual washing, the cleansing, and "It can't work like that," he says. "Not here." like this is a time and space about, sacrisanct.
Which sends me back to: Sometimes the blood is the only thing that can wash it off. Because ritual murder, scarfice as cleansing, blood on the altar. Now Clint is almost showing her a new form of religion, so, okay, bear with me here: Clint's in love with Natasha. That's been clear. But she's been devoted in her own way, the pair of them devoted to this trust between them, she's joined him in worshipping that, but he's also at many times been worshipping her and she hasn't been doing that, so it's almost like she's one religion, she has the faith, but it's this harsher thing from an old time, an old world, and here he shows her another, doesn't ask her to convert, but worships her in his own religion. And she doesn't 'convert'. It's not a language that she understands, but when she tries to translate it she isn't really translating it into her religion, of blood on the alter, but back to the ropes and the worshipping of the trust between them, the middle ground. Then at the end she kisses him, with the (holy) water like a blessing, which isn't his ritual, because his is one of no contact like this, and it isn't her ritual, it is again a middle ground and THAT becomes a habit, a new ritual, or a new part to Clint's ritual. Again with them building something between them and together. Yeah, if that makes any kind of sense *grins*.
Also, I LOVE this line: You can't remember if this shade of lipstick is yours or meant for someone else and that Clint can just tell when she's herself again and that he has that power, that she gives him that power to bring her back to herself (and to him, but to herself). (She's been reclaiming herself in blood, in the red of ledgers, and here's Clint and he's, what, offering another way? Yeah, hazy on how this fits in the reclaimation theme, brain getting frazzled, but it's there.)
Re: Fic: my skin is not my own (rated PG-13 for implications of sexin')
Right, did I just say the relgious dynamic came out more clearly in Bob's fics in this verse than yours? Should have kept my mouth shut lol. I added some thoughts on relgion in a comment to Bob over here but yours has slipped right into it now as well with the ritual washing, the cleansing, and "It can't work like that," he says. "Not here." like this is a time and space about, sacrisanct.
Which sends me back to: Sometimes the blood is the only thing that can wash it off. Because ritual murder, scarfice as cleansing, blood on the altar. Now Clint is almost showing her a new form of religion, so, okay, bear with me here: Clint's in love with Natasha. That's been clear. But she's been devoted in her own way, the pair of them devoted to this trust between them, she's joined him in worshipping that, but he's also at many times been worshipping her and she hasn't been doing that, so it's almost like she's one religion, she has the faith, but it's this harsher thing from an old time, an old world, and here he shows her another, doesn't ask her to convert, but worships her in his own religion. And she doesn't 'convert'. It's not a language that she understands, but when she tries to translate it she isn't really translating it into her religion, of blood on the alter, but back to the ropes and the worshipping of the trust between them, the middle ground. Then at the end she kisses him, with the (holy) water like a blessing, which isn't his ritual, because his is one of no contact like this, and it isn't her ritual, it is again a middle ground and THAT becomes a habit, a new ritual, or a new part to Clint's ritual. Again with them building something between them and together. Yeah, if that makes any kind of sense *grins*.
Also, I LOVE this line: You can't remember if this shade of lipstick is yours or meant for someone else and that Clint can just tell when she's herself again and that he has that power, that she gives him that power to bring her back to herself (and to him, but to herself). (She's been reclaiming herself in blood, in the red of ledgers, and here's Clint and he's, what, offering another way? Yeah, hazy on how this fits in the reclaimation theme, brain getting frazzled, but it's there.)