gericault
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“I’m sorry,” Ritchie said, not knowing why.
Paul said, with strange, distant eyes, “George hasn’t strung that many words together in months.”
Memory: the black-haired, black-eyed boy perched birdlike on a pub stool, chattering away. Ritchie felt dimly nauseous. “Changed,” Paul said, “our Georgie has,” as if he could see into Ritchie’s mind. “You understand now, don’t you? Why we have to get out?”
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I have seen him in the watch-fires by gericault
Fandoms: Civil War Series - Jeff Shaara & Michael Shaara, Gettysburg (1993), American Civil War RPF
10 Feb 2024
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He felt Hancock’s presence between them, even as Armistead’s desperate hands searched under his coat, under his shirt to his skin. Ghost of a living man. Ghost of love. Don’t think about that. Hancock was not the only one.
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Tommy had worked his right shoe off and was running his toes up Nick's thigh, a familiar glaze of panic over his eyes. Anyone who'd ever been in police custody would've had the same look. He was struggling against the cuffs, a slight whine in his breathing, hips lifting off the floor. "Hey," he was saying, "hey, big man, you ain't goin' nowhere, right?" His tongue was flicking snakelike behind his teeth, and there was a fierce glint in his eyes, a bright flare of desperation, casting a deep shadow: a look Nick wouldn't want to meet in a sealed cell. "Right?"
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you keep flipping the coin and it comes down heads by gericault
Fandoms: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
29 Nov 2021
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Suddenly, and as clearly as if he read it in the histories in the Benning library, Ron envisions this strong, sad-faced man bleeding into grey French earth, and then gathered up, dead, by the enemy, bound for a mass grave. He wants to seize the sergeant’s hand and drag him away from Herbert Sobel’s company, make him impossible promises, swear on God that although he may die he will never be led foolishly and his life will not go to waste. Ron stands very still. He is a stranger to himself. He can’t remember ever wanting anything so much, except death.
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Bull takes a long swig. Compared to the grain alcohol he used to nurse in the hayloft with his older brother on warm summer nights, it tastes like cranberry juice. A trickle runs down his chin, but he's indifferent to it.
Johnny blinks and swallows hard. Bull smiles, chuckles, almost inaudibly, at nothing in particular, and tugs gently at Johnny's sleeve.
"Stayin' or goin'?"
Recent series
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this is not our fate by gericault
Fandom 1960s Music Scene RPF, Bob Dylan (Musician), The Band (Band 1968)
01 Jun 2017
- Words:
- 2,823
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 1
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i say it will rain on us again by gericault, theonlytwin
Fandom Shichinin no Samurai | Seven Samurai (1954)
07 Nov 2020
- Words:
- 33,842
- Works:
- 6
- Bookmarks:
- 7