#hawkeyeisdead

[natasha-widowbite-romanoff]

wtf i hit ask limit.....WAT THE FUCK

[prettylittledeadspider-blog]

I'm Yours. [... Fer shits and giggles i could not resist]

Natasha stared at the screen before smirking a bit. He was likely drunk, or sent it to the wrong number. But she could toy with him a little. 

[Text - Virgo] I’d love to tie you down, Virg, and drive you crazy. Show you that some knives can invoke pleasure rather than pain, and sometimes pain isn’t always that different from pleasure. I guarantee that you’ve never been with a woman quite like me, and you won’t be able to settle for anything less once I’m done with you. 

[Text - Virgo] Either that, or we can go to iHop. I hear they have endless pancakes on Tuesdays now.

[Text - Virgo] ;]

[risenfromhawksashes-archive]

The Lingering Silence

[I know I didn’t get a prompt but I’m doin’ it anyways, because of inspiration and feels. Deal wit’ it.]

Time. Friend. Enemy. Maker. Killer.

Time. The days drug on now, it seemed, the hours, minutes, and seconds passing by viscously. Every step, every motion felt as though he were dragging himself through thick molasses. Things were so different since he passed on, yet they were the same…But it wasn’t the same he wanted.

Sometimes he couldn’t even be bothered to pull himself out of bed, the lead weights on his body and mind just seeming too insurmountable to fight. He found himself staring on at the ceiling, wondering where he had gone wrong. How he could’ve helped. If he could’ve helped. If only he had been there.

He still manages to pull jobs off, still needs money to eat after all. He doesn’t even bother with his therapy anymore, though. Why try to fix what was irreparably broken..?

More often than not, he finds himself sliding back into his darker personas, particularly the assassin, the cold-hearted killer. There were no thoughts or emotions to contend with, just motion and noise. Aim, draw, release. Point, click, shoot. Simple. Easy. Mindless.

Sooner or later, he resurfaces however, and it’s back to ‘normal’. Or as normal as it ever gets anymore. The new normal, that is. Empty. Quiet. Endless.

He had to leave the old place, there was nothing there but memories to haunt his steps. As though, at any time he could turn around, and there would be Falcon, reading to himself aloud from the couch. Or watching him sketch. Getting drunk with him. That any second, he could walk through that door, exhausted and dropping his bags to the floor, but then their eyes would meet, and they would both never acknowledge the huge sense of relief that flooded through them at the sight of the other safe and at least, mostly whole.

It was just stupid things anymore, the little things. His laugh, rusty from years of smokes and booze, but almost never half-hearted. The way his eyes would crinkle whenever he really truly smiled instead of giving one of his half-assed automatic smirks. How his voice would choke after they got into their one of many arguments, the times when he knew that Kes had truly gotten upset with him. The comforting heat and weight of his body when Kes awoke in a shuddering sweat, and there he was, murmuring calmly into his twin’s ear. That stupid big ass grin he would get on his face, greeting Kes jovially when he came into the kitchen, and there he was, making his stupid fuckin’ pancakes yet again. The entire kitchen smelled like them constantly still. And he couldn’t take the persistent reminders, of what he’d lost. Of what was gone and never coming back. So he’d left.

Steel-gray eyes fell on the calendar over the counter, the big red circle marking the date. Had it been a year already? It felt like so much longer…

The urge took him then, as they so rarely did anymore. He booked the next flight to Alaska, traveling light. There wasn’t much he claimed as his, and even less that cared for. Pulling up to the cabin, he had to take a moment to just breathe, heart stuck in his throat. He could do this…

He got out, boots crunching on frozen gravel, breath puffing out in merry little clouds in counterpoint to his own current state. Tossing his head a little, he trod up the drive into the countryside’s eternal twilight, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets. He could do this….

When his gaze caught on the lone headstone though, his gait jerked to a stilted stop and tried to swallow past the hard lump, and failing that, he finally, slowly drifted over to the grave. Eyes gone dark flickered over the words etched into the satin-finished stone:

FALCON 'Clint Barton' 'In Memory of a Loving Asshole, an Overall Badass, and a Great Man.' 'A man who could only be greater but lies interred, potential unfulfilled.'

The true weight, the reality of it all crashed onto his shoulders then, and his legs shook then crumpled, sinking him to his knees before the stone. He’s really gone…

He dug deeper into his pocket after a long, breathless moment, tugging out the two cheap friendship bracelets he gotten him and Falcon as a little joke, just after he started his very last mission..before he’d received the news. Just a little pleather strap, a steel charm dangling from it. ‘Friends Forever’, the two tiny halves of a heart read together, completing each other. But apart, they were nothing. Just a jumbled mess….

One unsteady hand set them at the base of the stone, slowly releasing them from its white-knuckled grip. He didn’t need them now, anyhow. He didn’t think he could ever be put back together again…

God, he missed him, so much…If only he could hear his voice again, just one last time, to drive it deep into his brain so that he could never, ever forget. Already he was losing those little nuances, those strange and unique inflections to his speech, the comforting gravel to his voice. Already, it was fading…

And so he spoke then, trying to capture the feel of it, rambling on to him, as though he were there to listen and not as if it were falling on deaf and dead ears. He grasped the stone, resting his forehead on the cold, cold granite, and he spoke to Falcon, just once more.

“‘Ey Falc…Missed y’las’ night….Heh. Had one a’those real bad dreams, yanno? T’sstupid, I know…’Cept I woke up…an’ y’still weren’t there…so…I guess it kinda came true after all. Cinna does okay some days, I think. M’never quite sure…Heh. She’s such a quiet one. God, yanno, I can’ ev’n drink milk anymore. T’sth’stupidest ass thing and y’d’prolly laugh t’know. But ev’ry time I take a drink, I think a’ you, an’ all that ridic’lous shit we’ve gone through over it…an’…an’it jus’ kinda gets stuck in m’throat….An’…well, shit, I jus’ can’ drink it anymore, s’all…..” He trailed off, the rest of his words, his stupid little speech caught in his throat like the knots twisting his gut, squeezing as hard as the steely hand around his heart, and he swallowed hard, and still it stayed. He couldn’t do this…

He never quite believed in that whole Heaven and Hell shit…but if it existed, he certainly hoped Falc was..up there…because it was surely Hell down here….

And what did he have to live for? Loki? That was a fantasy, a dream from a bygone era. This is…was real. Something he could touch. Something he could feel and be felt by. Something that knew him like no-one else had or had bothered to. Everything he ever really had, everything he had ever truly loved or needed was gone…It was all here, buried in this cold, unforgiving earth…and he was alone. Again. In the cold. In the growing dark. And…he didn’t want to be alone anymore. It hurt too much….

"Oh god Falc…I need you…I NEED you…and yer not here! Oh god…"

He curled up against the gravestone, shoulders shaking, silent tears streaming down his face, and curled his arms over his head.

Oh god I miss you so much…The words never even make it from his head as the quiet, gut-wrenching sobs finally escape him in little choked gasps, his entire frame shuddering. He cries and cries until he can cry no more, and even then soft, dry and heaving sobs still emerge…The tears freeze to his face, his body chilled in place, but even this pain is nothing in comparison…And even when his last breath is drawn from him, he can almost hear Falcon say in that quiet sadness of his, 'Y'stupid lil' shit, what'm I gonna d'with you..',and a tiny smile cracks onto his face. I’m here, Falc. I told you I would be. Even to the very end…

[ladytesseract]

.

[thewomanbehindtheiron]

Falcon and Rescue //Never Trust SHIELD\\

Pepper Potts hung up the phone, sick of hearing their words. SHIELD could use a woman like you. You have a suit, why don't you use it for the force of good? We know you're busy being CEO of STARK Industries and being Stark's nanny, but you owe us at least one simple mission.

She didn't owe them anything, at least that's what she wanted to tell them. Pepper found out that although their relationship ended, Tony made her a suit. When she saw the red and silver version of the Iron Man Armor, the Mark 1616, she agreed to using it on two conditions. One, weaponry is a minimal. She refuses to be a weapon. Second, she only uses it when it's a must. After Tony was kidnapped it became a must and she saved him, earning the nickname Rescue. Sadly SHIELD caught o. They have been urging her to join. She refused, knowing SHIELD was known for their lies. Did she owe them though? They did save Tony's life afterall.

She was walking down the street, rubbing her face. This was stress she didn't need. Pepper wasn't a solider or a spy. She didn't want to be a hero. She was a businesswoman. What the businesswoman didn't know was that SHIELD agents were stalking her, following her and taking in every move she made.

[themightyvolstagg]

 hawkeye-is-dead said: OoC: [ senpaiplz. yer still bein’ ridiculous. ]

//Am I?

[daughteroftricks]

Jormungandr looked up and gave a toothy grin towards the fractured hawk. His eyes blinked from yellow reptile slits to a rough crystalline green. "So you are my Mother's toy" Jormun said, in a sneer of the mention of Loki. He stood, circling the bird with a predatory glance "Though I see why he likes to keep you-" he paused, stepping forward and invading his space "Caged" he hissed out with a smirk.

[askthewintersoldier-blog]

Since you liked that pancake ask, now all I can imagine is Falcon and Yasha going on a self-assigned mission after a Pancake Overlord.

I really need sleep.

[insywinsywidow]

SHIELD FILE: hawkeyeisdead

It had been a long time since Natasha had seen any of the Avengers in person, she had spoken over the phone and so on, but not actually seen them. She'd decided to be as busy as possible to get her mind off the events of New York. But, if there was one person she missed more than all of them, it was the one she saw before her now. "Clint?" 

[frostbittendivinity]

.

[prettylittledeadspider-blog]

Tapping his fingers anxiously, Falcon held onto his phone. Shit, this was way harder than it needed to be. The blinded archer let out a sigh, having given up just trying to dial her number, finally going ahead and just using voice controls to call his 'partner'. "Call Scorpio." // [Incoming Call][Virgo]

Natasha was just enjoying a nice bath, unwinding after a long, hard day at work. The water had taken a pinkish hue from the blood she had washed off herself. Virgo’s ringtone started, jarring her out of her reverie and she reached over, regarding the phone with an odd look. She answered and cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder. 

"Virg," she greeted, hoping the smile couldn’t be heard in her voice. "This is unexpected. Is everything ok?" They rarely did calls unless they were either too drunk to text or in a rush for one deadly reason or another. 

[risenfromhawksashes-archive]

F C B

"Hm…Well, shit. These’re easy! Falccy, Cinna-bon, an’ sweet delicious bacon~…..Fuck, now m’hungry…"

[ladytesseract]

OoC: [ oi. no. you're worth at least three potato ]

//AND YOU ARE WORTH AT LEAST THREE CARROT

AND A CAMEL 

[silvertonguesonofnone-blog]

We'll See Just How Deep the Rabbit Hole Goes...

His feline companion regards the archer with a lazy curiosity from its perch beside where the note had lain, nonchalantly washing a paw, and seeming oblivious of the small dark box that had rested beneath, plain and unassuming. However, this note, unlike the others, had not been scribbled on bits of scrap paper, but rather on a more proper stationary, and it read:

My sun, my sun,

Bright as I am dark. You blaze your own path as I reflect on things long past. Able to nurture or deprive, as I can only take, greedy, needy. Shining on, reaching out, touching as I withdraw into the dark, brooding deep and selfish. Though you may continue on your span, burning out in a dazzling flare, I shall continue ever on, cold and dark, alone in the void. In all truth, I fear I shall simply cease, for what is darkness without light?

For all that you remain upon this azure sphere, could you, would you stay with one such as I? Would you be my light within the dark? Can I ask this of you? Tell me true....

~The One Called 'Sir'

The small ebon-furred cat observes him quietly now, as his eyes pass over the note, the very tip of its tail twitching, until finally it lightly bats at the box. Were he to look inside, he would find a small band, fitted perfectly to his ring finger, and the entirety of the ring is a silver serpent twining over a golden feather, shaped in intricate detail, with a simple knight's crest at the apex, carved from a stone shaded the same steel-blue of his own gaze, with emerald hints within. The ring is simple, yet complex, as was befitting. The tiny cave is quiet now, even the roaring of the falls beyond the entrance seems softened, as though their entire surroundings was holding its breath.

[themightyvolstagg]

hawkeye-is-dead said: OoC: [ senpai plz you’re ridiculous ]

//You. Are. My. Senpai.

[askthewintersoldier-blog]

Didn't realize what my dash was missing until you came back...