Arrows (Hawksilver)

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this weeks story is brought to by the front bottoms. who is ready for back story and sadness? trigger warning homophobia internal and external 

(third person)

The two boys sat in the quiet room, it was late, maybe 4 am, bruised and sore. Their mother had left them not even a month ago. "Y'know we could leave," Clint said, glancing at his brother, the voice coming out in a hushed whisper, there was something dangerous in those words, something that tastes like freedom and a lot like pain.

They both wanted to leave, neither of them wanted to stay with their cruel father, but the actual chance of them getting away where very slim,getting away alive was even slimmer. They where both small boys, his brother, Barney, was older by about 3 years, but he wasn't much bigger than his brother.

"Clinton, you shit!" his father called from down stairs, Clint felt his body tighten, nerves taking over, the fear of what was going to happen was burning him, making his body ready to run. He shot up and walked down the stairs, knowing that if he ran it would get him in more trouble than he already was, he stood in front of his father, he was a tall bored man, a large beer gut and an unkempt beard. Clint couldn't help but see himself in his father, they had the same face, the same brownie blonde hair, and such a similar smile it made him sick.

"Where were you this morning?" his father slurred, spit coming off the taller man face, splatting on Clint face. There was a moment of panic.

"Uh? Whatever do you mean father?" Clint muttered, he was not ready to tell the truth that he was actually hanging out with his friends, they were planning on running away to the circus and Clint wanted in on the run away, but it meant getting out when he wasn't allowed to.

"This morning you rat! You weren't home, you ungrateful runt" his father screamed the words into his face, before raising a hand, the palm smashing into Clint's jaw. Knocking him onto his knees, a red hand march showing up on his cheek very fast.

"Father!" it was Barney he was standing on the bottom step, he had purple welts all over his legs, some bigger one poking out under his shorts. Clint's eyes widen in terra, it was one thing to be hit, but to watch his brother ...

"Clint leave," he brother was standing in front of him, pushing him with the back of his hill of his foot. Clint obeyed and ran.

(Pietro)

I was born 12 minutes older than my twin sister, 10 of February 1990, I guess in a way I was always faster than my sister, even before I gained superhuman speed, I would run everywhere, and run my words together, like I simply couldn't be fast enough, I did everything fast, the day I found out my grandfather was going to move in, I sat on a stool listening to my mother talked about her two pesky twins.

"Well dad, she's wired, and he's fast," for some reason, I felt that I should be offended. I was fast and she was amazing.

*months later*

I ran to the door, skidding to a stop, narrowly missing my younger sister, my sister as always waited patiently for my mother to unlock the door, my grandfather stood there before us, he was tall, balding and a mouth full of yellow teeth. His blue eyes held something that i wasn't ready to face, not yet that's for sure. I grasped my sister hand with fear taking over my body. My thin small fingers clutching her hand.

"Sissy boy, huh?" he glanced at my mother with those piercing blue eyes, a look of sickened hatred feel across them. "What sort of child have i raised to raise some sort of SISSY boy? What next? He tells us he's a fag?" I had heard that word on the streets a few times, all I really knew was that the word was something not very nice. Something used to hurt people, and I didn't like that.