fic: Connection Day - Chapter 1, Rating: M, No warning (this chapterpurely_distelFebruary 28 2013, 19:35:45 UTC
Name: Connection Day Rating: Mature Warning (whole story): Character death, violence (not more than normal Clintasha fic though) NO WARNINGS for this chapter Characters: Clint, Tasha, Bruce, Tony, Steve Words: Chapter 1: 3459 Notes: Thank you, alphaflyer for being an amazing beta!
Link to AO3 hereHe’s got his hat pushed deep into his face and his collar high as he makes his way through the tunnel that leads him from the factories to his next destination, Breakfast Hall IX. Somewhere far above and outside his reach, he knows the dark clouds are closing in and the wind is howling furiously, tearing at whatever is left on the tortured surface. He knows because they tell you it’s the truth. Clint can nearly imagine the feeling of fresh air on his face, of clear rain splashing on his cheeks and if he wills himself to it, he might even imagine he remembers the feeling of sun-warmed skin. But he can’t feel any of these things, not really. He hardly even remembers them. How could he when he has spent the last 30-odd years of his life so deep
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Rating: Mature
Warning (whole story): Character death, violence (not more than normal Clintasha fic though)
NO WARNINGS for this chapter
Characters: Clint, Tasha, Bruce, Tony, Steve
Words: Chapter 1: 3459
Notes: Thank you, alphaflyer for being an amazing beta!
Link to AO3 hereHe’s got his hat pushed deep into his face and his collar high as he makes his way through the tunnel that leads him from the factories to his next destination, Breakfast Hall IX. Somewhere far above and outside his reach, he knows the dark clouds are closing in and the wind is howling furiously, tearing at whatever is left on the tortured surface. He knows because they tell you it’s the truth. Clint can nearly imagine the feeling of fresh air on his face, of clear rain splashing on his cheeks and if he wills himself to it, he might even imagine he remembers the feeling of sun-warmed skin. But he can’t feel any of these things, not really. He hardly even remembers them. How could he when he has spent the last 30-odd years of his life so deep ( ... )
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