it's a new dawn, it's a new day (part 3 - complete)
Darcy wears black to the All-Father’s house, with a sprig of mistletoe pinned to her hat band.
There is one guard at the door. Darcy expects to be frisked, but he only watches her climb the steps. When she reaches the top, he nods once and says, “You may pass” like this was a test Sif forgot to warn her about.
In the entryway, she realizes that the walls to this house must be thicker than she supposed.
She couldn’t hear any of the screaming from the street.
Darcy takes a seat on the very edge of a leather armchair worth more than her apartment.
“How can I help you, Miss Lewis?” Odin Borsson folds his hands and smiles.
Darcy opens her handbag and lifts out the Tesseract by its chain. She sets it down on the All-Father’s desk with a thump“I’m here to trade,” she says
( ... )
Thor catches shadows and sees a face in between striped blinds. He thinks he's dreaming.
The only thing that he's sure is real is the cigarette smoke lingering in the air.
His face buzzes like bad static. He's everywhere. He's nowhere else. Thor wants to reach out, but his fingers only touch air. At the back of his mind a voice taunts him, glassy eyes and a crooked grin.
The man with the fedora hides in plain sight, his greatcoat screaming guilty, get him, he's right there. But then Thor dares to breathe.
And then he's gone.
Thor wakes in the middle of the night. He lives under a starless sky, lives in a house where the shadows are long and endless.
"Brother?"
If Loki smiles, he can't see him.
They meet in a four-walled restroom deep within a three-cornered restaurant. The tiles are beaten, black gashes against stained white linoleum.
"You can't hide forever," Thor says. His reflection looks back at him, eyes steely, almost pleading. The tap runs, water rushing against the sink, spilling over.
"It ain't about the moonshine," says Boyd Crowder, at thirty five, at thirty eight, at forty one.
Ava Crowder has hair long and clean and gold as Harlan sunlight over their long-famous mountain, until she goes into town one night and comes back with it cut to brush her chin.
"Ain't a kid no more," she says, and Boyd kisses her until his lips feel numb, brushes at her temple, does not say, you have always been a woman to me, my love."It were never 'bout the moonshine," says Boyd Crowder, shotgun cocked, knife sheathed inside a sleeve, blood on his knuckles and a that calm, calm smile on his face
( ... )
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This was absolutely beautiful. You not only got the atmosphere, but you also got me to fall in love with this fill. ♥
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He takes her out to dinner, takes her dancing, takes her into the homes of the city’s power brokers.
“Where did he find you?” asks a blonde in a green evening gown.
“Now, now, Amora.” Loki slips an arm around Darcy’s waist. “What have I told you about taking things that don’t belong to you?”
“And does she know how you treat things that belong to you?” Amora leans in until she can whisper against Darcy’s mouth. “Ask him about ( ... )
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Darcy wears black to the All-Father’s house, with a sprig of mistletoe pinned to her hat band.
There is one guard at the door. Darcy expects to be frisked, but he only watches her climb the steps. When she reaches the top, he nods once and says, “You may pass” like this was a test Sif forgot to warn her about.
In the entryway, she realizes that the walls to this house must be thicker than she supposed.
She couldn’t hear any of the screaming from the street.
Darcy takes a seat on the very edge of a leather armchair worth more than her apartment.
“How can I help you, Miss Lewis?” Odin Borsson folds his hands and smiles.
Darcy opens her handbag and lifts out the Tesseract by its chain. She sets it down on the All-Father’s desk with a thump“I’m here to trade,” she says ( ... )
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
The only thing that he's sure is real is the cigarette smoke lingering in the air.
His face buzzes like bad static. He's everywhere. He's nowhere else. Thor wants to reach out, but his fingers only touch air. At the back of his mind a voice taunts him, glassy eyes and a crooked grin.
The man with the fedora hides in plain sight, his greatcoat screaming guilty, get him, he's right there. But then Thor dares to breathe.
And then he's gone.
Thor wakes in the middle of the night. He lives under a starless sky, lives in a house where the shadows are long and endless.
"Brother?"
If Loki smiles, he can't see him.
They meet in a four-walled restroom deep within a three-cornered restaurant. The tiles are beaten, black gashes against stained white linoleum.
"You can't hide forever," Thor says. His reflection looks back at him, eyes steely, almost pleading. The tap runs, water rushing against the sink, spilling over.
This time Loki does smile ( ... )
Reply
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"It ain't about the moonshine," says Boyd Crowder, at thirty five, at thirty eight, at forty one.
Ava Crowder has hair long and clean and gold as Harlan sunlight over their long-famous mountain, until she goes into town one night and comes back with it cut to brush her chin.
"Ain't a kid no more," she says, and Boyd kisses her until his lips feel numb, brushes at her temple, does not say, you have always been a woman to me, my love."It were never 'bout the moonshine," says Boyd Crowder, shotgun cocked, knife sheathed inside a sleeve, blood on his knuckles and a that calm, calm smile on his face ( ... )
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