So I'm still sorting out mod duties, but I'm getting there! We still need a few more codemonkeys, so if you're interested, please PM me. Thanks
( Read more... )
She'd marched into her life like a tornado, the whole red-haired maddening mess of her. Every conversation they ever had was incomplete - interrupted - supercharged.
Natasha was a clattery collection of espionage stories, morning coffee and too many black bras. She ate junk food most nights, and complained about it after, and she was always there.
There was always hell on her mind, always something getting angry, and she would hold Pepper's hand (or her foot, or her calf) and just talk until long after Pepper went to sleep.
Fill - Sleeping, Seepingicarus_chainedSeptember 5 2012, 22:00:51 UTC
[Reader's choice of fandom, I've no idea what this is from:]
"All this," the man said softly. Kneeling in the ashes of a scorched earth. "All this, brother, just to rob me of my dreams?"
"Your dreams made you weak," the other answered. Cold and pitiless, his blank gaze falling over a shattered landscape without so much as a flicker of remorse. "There were none among us who did not see it, brother. They had slipped inside you. Poisoned you with foreign thoughts. Made you long for ..." A twist, emotion. Contempt. "For gentle things. For all their soft poisons." A lift of one lip. "You must see that. You must know what they did to you."
The kneeling figure shook his head, face twisted in a grieving mask. "You had no right," he whispered, soft and desperate. "You had no right. This was my dream, brother! They gave it to me, and it was mine. This was ... this was my dreamHis companion stared down at him. One fist knotting, a hard, cold clench of pain, as he looked down at the crumpled form beside him, and what remained of the brother he
( ... )
Comments 120
Reply
Reply
out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
- Sylvia Plath; Lazurus Lady
Reply
Natasha was a clattery collection of espionage stories, morning coffee and too many black bras. She ate junk food most nights, and complained about it after, and she was always there.
There was always hell on her mind, always something getting angry, and she would hold Pepper's hand (or her foot, or her calf) and just talk until long after Pepper went to sleep.
"I want one," Tony had said.
But, "She's mine," thought Pepper.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
"All this," the man said softly. Kneeling in the ashes of a scorched earth. "All this, brother, just to rob me of my dreams?"
"Your dreams made you weak," the other answered. Cold and pitiless, his blank gaze falling over a shattered landscape without so much as a flicker of remorse. "There were none among us who did not see it, brother. They had slipped inside you. Poisoned you with foreign thoughts. Made you long for ..." A twist, emotion. Contempt. "For gentle things. For all their soft poisons." A lift of one lip. "You must see that. You must know what they did to you."
The kneeling figure shook his head, face twisted in a grieving mask. "You had no right," he whispered, soft and desperate. "You had no right. This was my dream, brother! They gave it to me, and it was mine. This was ... this was my dreamHis companion stared down at him. One fist knotting, a hard, cold clench of pain, as he looked down at the crumpled form beside him, and what remained of the brother he ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment