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Zzz
Clint rolled over onto his side, molding himself against Coulson's back and burying his face in Coulson's neck. His eyes were closed and for all intents and purposes, he was asleep, but his mind was very active. His arms tightened around Coulson's middle and he made a soft, whining noise. "No, Loki, you can't have him. He's mine."
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"Who?"
Send me a “Who?” and my Muse will forget yours.
Grant took a step back from the man in front of him, all of his muscles tense. “Who are you?” He almost growled, eyes narrowed at the man. “And why the hell are you here?”
"They found out about us."
Clint lifted his arm off his face where he’d slung it across his eyes when he’d flopped down on the couch in Phil’s office. He turned his head, sitting up a little and blinking at Phil. “Oh. Uhhhh. Huh.” He didn’t really see the big deal. So they knew. “I mean, is that bad? They were gonna find out eventually.”
"Mmm"
"Good 'cause I've had dirty thoughts about you too, babe."
Drabble prompt: 5) Your muse and mine meet on a battlefield.
In another lifetime on a parallel world, Loki’s faithful watchdog remained by his side rather than splitting off to wreak chaos on the helicarrier. An alternate Clint, with dull, listless, clouded blue eyes hung back in the shadows as his master taunted Thor, and watched without recognition as Coulson boldly strode forward and made his threat, angling the big bazooka looking thing at Loki.
In another lifetime on a parallel world, it wasn’t Loki’s spear that pierced Coulson’s heart—it was Clint’s knive, lovingly given as a birthday present a number of years ago, a knife that had been honed to perfect sharpness, a knife that had, at one time, carried a tag with “Just in case Cupid’s arrows run out” written in little ant but perfectly legible letters. The tag had been stashed somewhere in Clint’s belongings, in a keepsake box he’d started using not too long after he’d let Coulson and Nat into his life.
In another lifetime on a parallel world, Clint Barton wiped his blade clean of his lover’s blood on the man’s own suit jacket and calmly reclaimed his place by his master’s side.
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trueshieldbeliever said: Fffhjd, k’fgklfJHDN dammit Barton. I wasn’t prepare for those feels.
NOBODY WAS PREPARED FOR THOSE FEELS. NOT EVEN ME.
Drabble prompt: 2) My muse is given a chance to go back in time and re-do one single event.
It’s a once in a lifetime chance, and he knows he’s never going to get another. There are a lot of things he’d like to change though, and he doesn’t know how to choose. Plus, he’s seen a lot of time travel movies. He knows there are consequences to his choices. If he stops his mother from dying, will it effect him joining SHIELD? If he runs away from the circus and joins the Army with Barney, will he still become Hawkeye? If he saves Coulson from getting shish kabobed, will the Avengers still band together and defeat the Chitauri?
He swallows hard, his eyes focusing on the time travel device in his hand. It’s now or never. If he’s going to use this, it has to be now before somebody arrives to try and talk him out of using it. He straps the device around his wrist and flips it open, punching in time coordinates to take him back to the moment Coulson was stabbed.
He’s gonna save his man, even if it kills him in the process.
✉
Send me a '✉' for five times my muse didn't text yours, and one time they did
[ Text ; Coulson ( unsent ) ]Â I might need your help with something. Have you heard from Hill at all?[ Text ; Coulson ( unsent ) ]Â I hear you're in charge now.[ Text ; Coulson ( unsent ) ]Â Have you heard from Barton, at all? I haven't in almost three weeks...[ Text ; Coulson ( unsent ) ]Â How's the team?[ Text ; Coulson ( unsent ) ]Â This is weird. I think I might actually miss all of you guys.[ Text ; Coulson ]Â You probably don't recognize the number, but this is Natasha...
