There are nights wherein Clint Barton remembers.
No, not just remembers. He relives.
Those moments when he betrayed the world. Those moments when he was controlled by Loki. His muscles relive those moments, from the tension in his shoulders as he drove away from Director Fury and Agent Hill, to that sudden jolt when Natasha knocked him out.
It was these nights where he would wake up, his bedsheets drenched with cold sweat, or perhaps, maybe he would not even sleep. Tossing and turning in his bed, from one position to another, until finally giving up and sitting up.
Glancing at the door, he sighed. Perhaps everyone else forgave him, but he knows, and these restless nights are proof, that he will never truly forgive himself.
The loud, angry voice of a certain Brit echoed throughout the house, causing two young boys to quake in fear. The boys were near identical physically, but complete opposites personality-wise.
The older of the twins, the one with the sky blue eyes whimpered as the owner of the voice, a man with a mop of sandy hair and piercing emerald eyes, stood at the door to their shared bedroom. "E-Engwand..."
"Don't 'England' me!" The green eyed man hissed, causing both boys to cower in fear behind a small polar bear cub. "I know it was you!"
"Me?" Bright blue eyes widened in confusion, "What did I do?"
England snorted. "As if you didn't know. Really, America, I thought I taught you better."
The older boy looked to his twin, and then back to his guardian. "E-Engwand, I weawwy didn't do anything!"
"America," the Brit sounded like he was losing his patience, "if you just admit to breaking the vase downstairs, I won't punish you as badly as I will if you continue to lie to me."
"Engwand, I pwomise --"
"C'etait moi, monsieur Angletewwe," the younger twin, the one with the calm violet eyes, mumbled.
"Canada, for God's sake, lad" England groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I told you to stop speaking that --"
The young Canadian squeaked, embarrassed by his slip up. "I-I'm sowwy, M-Mr. Engwand... B-but it was m-me..."
"Yes, yes, I heard you the first time," he let out an exasperated sigh, "Seems like I owe you an apology, America." He knelt down and patted the young boy on the head, smiling softly. "I'm sorry for falsely accusing you. Now, as for you, Canada," he turned to face the other boy, who was quivering in fear, anticipating his punishment, "you aren't allowed to play outside for a week. And no dessert tonight or tomorrow, either." He gently rested his hand atop Canada's head, too, smiling. "It was brave of you to step forward, Canada. I'm proud of you."
And both colonies knew then that, maybe, being England's colonies wasn't so bad.
For almost his entire life, Tony Stark was alone. The public saw that Howard would bring Tony around everywhere as a child, raving about his accomplishments and the such, like how a father should do for his son. However, it was only for publicity. Anyone who knew anything saw that Tony was a depressed kid, always trying to make his father and mother proud, but yet, he always seemed to be failing at that.
"You're my greatest creation, Tony."
No. Howard's greatest creation was Captain America, the man who Tony had been fighting with for his father's attention since day one.
Yes, Steve Rogers was his enemy. He was the reason why Tony had such a miserable life.
And yet, if that were the case, why is it that whenever he sees the blond captain, his breath hitches, and his heart skips a beat? Why is it that he's always aiming to please the first Avenger with all of these gifts and technology upgrades? Why is he always trying to get the captain to give him that shy, yet grateful smile?
"Thank you, Tony," is what Steve would always say after he receives yet another gift from the self-proclaimed genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. And it would always make Tony's knees weak and cause his tongue to melt in his mouth.
It was frustrating, this onslaught of emotions he was feeling. And that frustration is probably what lead him here, in his office with a near empty bottle of whiskey in his hands. A humourless laugh made its way out of his lips as he looked around the room for any more available alcohol. He stumbled out of his chair and walked around, finally finding that hidden bottle of tequila in another drawer. Humming quietly, he popped off the cap, and was about to take a swig of it until a large, strong hand gently grabbed a hold of his wrist.
Whining, he turned to face the owner of set hand, and then he pouted at the star spangled man. "Steeeeeeeeeeeeeeve..."
"I think you've had enough, Tony," the blond said softly, slowly taking the bottle out of the other man's hand, "you're already incredibly drunk."
This wasn't fair. Steve was too nice. "It's not enough, though!"
A blond eyebrow was raised. "Not enough? Tony, look at you --"
"I'm still awake! It's not enough!" Tony hissed at him, his eyes narrowed. "Lemme go, cap. I'm tired of this... Of everything. Lemme go!"
Steve frowned, and instead just pulled him in closer. "I'm not letting you go, Tony... You're a good man. You have to stop doing this to yourself..."
The smaller of the two let out a choked sob, and hid his face in his hands. "Please... I just... I'm so tired..."
"Then, we'll sleep," the good captain smiled, resting his forehead against the other man's, "we'll sleep since you're tired, and then we'll start off tomorrow with a new beginning."
New beginning? Tony looked up at Steve, and when he only got a wide grin and a look in his blue eyes that said that there was no way Tony was going to be able to get out of this, he smiled back, and hid his face in Steve's chest.
A new beginning... With Steve...
He liked the sound of that.
She was stuck again. Stuck in this room, where the shadows clung to every corner, and evil whispers can be heard.
She brought her hands up to her ears, trying to block out those whispers. Trying so hard to make them go away. She was scared, but she held it in. She held in everything she was feeling, like a beast in it's cage.
A choked sob is heard, and she opens her eyes, wide and frantic. She hugged her knees to her chest, desperately trying to remember why she was there. She did not like this. She was lost. She did not know.
Her body shook with rage. If she did not know why she was there, why was she there, then? Why was she abandoned? She gathered the courage to open the door, ever so slightly.
She smiled as she saw the light of a warm home. She quietly stuck her head out, and then looked around, searching for that reason.
The beasts snarled.
She froze when she heard their voices. Their voices, praising each other with such a warm tone. She listened as they laughed with each other and sang together, then she knew. She knew why she was put there.
She pulled her head back into the darkness, staying at the small amount of light emanating from the small crack. She was not needed. She sighed sadly as she said it to herself over and over again.
"I'm not needed."
"I was never needed."
"No one loves me."
"No one did."
"No one does."
"No one will."
And then she snapped. The beasts have been let loose: her rage, her fear, her sadness, her despair, her sorrow, her pain. They have all been let out as she opened her mouth and let out a silent scream.
Her eyes went wild as tears streamed down her face at the realization. She turned away, unable to look at the light anymore. She dropped to the cold, hard floor and held herself in her arms.
She knows now that she can only depend on herself. She knows that she cannot trust anyone else. She knows that she does not need anyone else. She smiled to herself.
She did not know that before. That's why she is so hurt.
That was before. This is now. This will not happen again.
And then the beasts let out a victorious howl.
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One more? Oh, I hate it when you go to the freaking groceries one day, and then the next day, when you look for something to eat, there's nothing in the freaking house for you to eat. Why the hell does this happen? D:
- Current Mood: annoyed
- Current Music:Mr. Therapy Man - Justin Nozuka
You know. With William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy and DeForest Kelley. The awesome ones, you know.
I don't watch any other Star Trek. Well, the 2009 version was pretty nice. I have to admit. I really only like this Enterprise crew rather than the ones from TNG, etc.
So, yeah. Just wanted to let you know. :D
- Current Mood: amused
Okay, so, I've noticed that whenever I like something, people always compares me to it. For example, today I got my hair cut and everyone was all like: "Oh, you look like Adam Lambert!"
No. No, I don't.
Seriously. Jeez. First of all, my hair is far too short. Secondly, his hair isn't styled like mine. If you guys keep track of this crap, you'd know he kind of changed his hair from the Idol Tour.
I understand that they may just be saying that because they know I like him, but it's really freaking annoying.
Like, when I used to be IN LOVE with the JoBros, they were always like: "Oh, you look like Joe Jonas!"
Holy crap. I really didn't. I just put on some random tie. Like, frig. I like these people, bit I don't want to be compared in appearance with them.
Because they're guys and, um, if I'm not mistaken, I'm a girl.
It's not just celebrities I'm compared with. It's also freaking ANIME CHARACTERS.
That's right. I have been compared to Anime characters even when I'm not cosplaying. Fantastic.
From InuYasha to Pikachu. PIKACHU. Yes, that little small mouse from Pokemon. I have no idea how the hell I look like a little yellow mouse with lightning powers, but apparently, I do.
What a life, seriously. It really irritates me.
And look, I'm probably just really irritated right now, so I'm just writing down whatever first comes to mind. I'll probably feel bad later.
Ugh. Whatever. That's my update. Take it or leave it.
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Okay, so, I'm really tired, but no one is turning off the TV, so I decided I might as well update.
It's been a while since I properly updated, hasn't it? XD
Anyway, so, yeah, I went to Band Camp in November. It was pretty freaking live, and I would LOVE to go back. I've made alot of friends there, and I really wanna spend some time with them again.
I'm playing Pokemon Red again. Love the Pokemon games. I have a team of a Wartortle, a Nidorina, a Pidgeotto, a Pikachu, and a Paras. I need a fire type. Rawr.
So, yeah. I really am tired, and I can't think, so I guess that's all I'll say for now.
So, peeps, if I don't update before Christmas and/or New Year, have a great holiday season, and God bless in this coming year.
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The bees and the mosquitoes follow me where ever the hell I go, and it's really freaking scary since they can like, eat you. They will. No jokes. They will EAT you.
It's not fair. They always follow me. I am scared crap-less of them.
Oh, but if I have my tennis racquet with me, then I'm fine, since I have something to swat them with.
But, when I'm not armed and ready, I am such a big chicken. xD
Speaking of chicken, I believe chickens are really, really yummy. Except for the plastic-tasting ones from like, banquet halls. The chicken there is good sometimes, but alot of the times, it tastes like plastic. I think I have a problem. XD
- Current Mood: apathetic
- Current Music:Thriller - Fall Out Boy