A torre Stark estava borbulhando como sempre, com o sol da manhã iluminando tudo através das paredes de vidro.
Empolgada, mal conseguia conter o sorriso bobo enquanto apertava o botão no elevador. Apesar da caixa de metal ser espaçosa, estava cheia de agentes com suas papeladas falando em seus comunicadores.
Dei outra olhada na linda capa do meu livro antes de aperta-lo contra o peito novamente, em completa certeza de que chegaria são e salvo para apresentá-lo aos Vingadores.
Steve sempre perguntou sobre as histórias contemporâneas, sorri ao pensar como ficariam felizes que finalmente o terminei -de novo- e estaria disposta a emprestar meu pequeno tesouro quando as imensas portas do elevador se abriram.
Toda a torre era de tirar o fôlego, mas esse é meu lugar favorito. Sua tecnologia transbordava das mesas e telões exibindo os projetos mais fantásticos, com os membros mais importantes pelos corredores. Continuei minha jornada passando pelos projetos de novas armaduras e laboratórios com substâncias coloridas até a enorme sala de reunião dos Vingadores.
Dei mais uma olhadinha em meu peito antes de entrar em silêncio. Estavam todos sentados numa mesa oval prestando atenção em Tony que explicava algo importante, atrás estavam alguns gráficos e anotações.
— Precisamos acabar com essa organização. Isso vai terminar o mais rápido possível, não se desviem do plano e nos vemos em algumas semanas. -O vingador se afastou da mesa, exatamente como previsto a reunião terminaria agora. Me aproximei enquanto todos recolhiam seus pertences.
—Bom dia pessoal! Olha! Eu trouxe o livro que prometi! -ergui a capa para eles, mostrando meu livrinho favorito.
— S/n não é a hora certa, depois tudo bem? - Natasha murmurou, sem dar muita atenção. Observei Clint sair sem nem dizer nada.
— Podemos ver isso outra outra hora, S/n. As coisas ficaram urgentes. -Disse Steve, me dando uns tapinhas nas costas antes de ir. Mais da metade ja tinha ido embora, apressada.
— Até logo S/n. -Bruce acenou parecendo tão sem graça quanto eu, antes de encostar a porta por último.
Suspirei, admirando a cidade fervilhando de pessoas e carros. Eu não deveria me sentir tão chateada, eles estão cuidando das pessoas, tem coisas mais importantes que um livro estúpido. Continuo repetindo isso na minha cabeça numa tentativa de parecer menos triste.
— Ei S/n! -Tony voltou, esticando sua cabeça entre a brecha na porta. — Não se esqueça de vigiar o Loki.
— Claro, senhor Stark. -ele deu uma piscadinha e sumiu novamente. Olhando o sofisticado relógio ja estava até atrasada 2 minutos, então voltei ao grande elevador, apertando os botões do subsolo desta vez.
Diferente do penúltimo andar, o subsolo era mais simples, focado em enormes portas de aço com senhas elaboradas e cartões de acesso. O número de seguranças era dobrado, e o de armas também.
E lá estava o Deus da trapaça. Preso em sua enorme cela com vidros reforçados que seria do Hulk, primeiramente. Assim que as portas se abriram, o mais alto exibiu um familiar sorriso debochado.
— Olá, querida. Fiquei com saudades... -ele se aproximou.
— Não seja idiota Loki, eu estou aqui desde o início. Deixada de fora das missões porque preciso vigiar o Deus chifrudo! -Bufei, sentando na cadeira, pronta para mais um turno.
—Algum vingador precisava assumir a tarefa, não é mesmo? Tenho sorte que tenha sido você. -o moreno, diferente de mim, parecia com bom humor e notou rápido um objeto incomum acima da mesinha.
—Trouxe um presente para mim? -inclinando a cabeça para ler o título escrito na lombada —Nunca ouvi falar desse.
— Não é presente nenhum! Mantenha-se bem longe do meu livro! -Loki me olhou surpreso.
— Se é tão importante oque esta fazendo aqui?
— Vou empresta-lo aos Vingadores.
— Mesmo assim, por que o trouxe aqui agora? -o Deus arqueou uma sobrancelha. Quase podia ver as engrenagens rodando em seu cérebro. Mas eu não podia dizer a ele sobre o mal entendido de meia hora atrás, muito menos da missão que me deixaria como única vingadora na Torre por alguns dias.
— Não importa. -murmurei, tampouco querendo tocar no assunto. Estava decidida a ignora-lo hoje.
— Se iria emprestar, deve ser bom. Qual a sinopse? - Quando não respondi, Loki deu umas batidinhas no vidro chamando atenção para o grande bico em seu rosto. Tão fofo, que levantei da cadeira e fui em sua direção.
Encostei parte da capa no vidro e ele se abaixou um pouco para ler a sinopse sozinho. Seus olhos verdes iam e voltavam acompanhando as linhas antes de se fixar nas meus.
— Parece uma história muito interessante. -sorriu de canto.
Afastei a capa do vidro e me virei de volta, escondendo o sorrisinho de ao menos uma pessoa ter reconhecido o potencial da minha história. Mas então me sentei séria na cadeira, passando as próximas horas decidida à ignora-lo.
Quando finalmente terminei meu turno, ja estava começando a anoitecer e entraram cinco guardas para cobrir meu lugar. Normalmente, o tempo passava entre minhas conversas com o Deus da mentira. Hoje, no silêncio, estava mais cansada e com dor de tantas horas na mesma posição como se o tempo tivesse passado mais devagar. E esse estresse não foi embora.
Com horas de filmes assistidos, refeições, exercícios, meditação e até uma corrida noturna, nada parecia me tirar uma sensação de inquietação e falta de sono, e foi as 3 horas da manhã que descobri oque tinha de errado: esqueci meu livro.
Precisava ir buscá-lo então troquei para um roupa decente e tirei o carro da garagem, dirigindo tranquilamente pelo trânsito vazio iluminado pelos postes e faróis, com alguns bares também abertos.
Apesar de durante a madrugada a Torre ser notavelmente calma, ela nunca foi totalmente vazia. Os corredores estavam mais livres, mas alguns agentes ainda trabalhavam em suas mesas até tarde, e os seguranças cumpriam seu dever. Sem disputa pelos elevadores, foi até mais rápido voltar a cela de Loki, onde havia o esquecido na mesa.
Quando as portas se abriram, Loki estava deitado na cela, sem dizer nada. Os seguranças se olhavam entre si de forma confusa.
— Esqueceu alguma coisa? -perguntou um.
— Eu... -a mesa estava vazia. Imediatamente me ocorreu que se soubessem de qualquer objeto pessoal aqui, estaria ferrada. Tony arrancaria minha pele.
— Vou fazer algumas horas extras. -contornei.
— Deveria ter avisado antes, é o protocolo. - Informou outro.
— Eu sei, mas não imaginei... qual é, vocês não querem uma folga? -Rapidamente os guardas acenaram em concordância e me entregaram o posto com facilidade apesar dos olhares desconfiados.
Assim que todos deixaram o corredor, e eu estava à sós com o Deus da trapaça, fechei a cara.
— Onde esta? -exclamei, apontando para mesa vazia.
— Onde esta oque? -perguntou ele, com a maior cara de pau. Me aproximei de sua jaula, batendo forte no vidro. Ja sentia o nervosismo subindo pelo meu sangue. Realmente quer
— A limpeza só vem amanhã e os guardas nem sabiam de nada, realmente quer jogar esse jogo? -Imediatamente sua ilusão deitado desapareceu e o verdadeiro Loki se mostrou de pé. Seus dedos apontaram para a mesa, e ao me virar, ali estava meu pequeno amontoado de páginas.
— Seu idiota -quase rosnei. Voltando para conferir, lá estava ele do jeito que deixei. Sem folhas amassadas, rasgos ou qualquer rasura.
— Se comprometeu em outro turno só por isso? Acho que consigo entender, é um dos melhores livros que ja li na vida. Me arrisco à dizer que é um dos melhores em Midgard.
Arregalo os olhos me virando na hora, um misto de surpresa, raiva e alegria passavam pela minha cabeça. Loki agora esta com as mãos para trás, divagando sua opinião tranquilamente.
— Oque? Você...?
— Sim. E é fantástico. O plot no final foi muito bem construído, não acha? -comentou. Por mais raiva que estivesse subindo ao meu sangue, não consegui conter o sorriso que estampou meu rosto. Mas então um pensamento pior ocorreu em minha mente.
— Como fez meu livro passar pela jaula?
— Vamos fazer um acordo, eu não revelo nenhum dos meus truques, e também não conto que você esqueceu qualquer coisa aqui dentro. -ele piscou seus olhos verdes para mim.
— Esta tudo bem, S/n -Loki continuou.- Agora que ja se comprometeu em ficar aqui, vamos conversar. Estava louco pela sua volta.
— Conversar sobre oque? - arqueei a sobrancelha. Uma espécie de sentimento reconfortante se instalava em mim.
— Você sabe sobre oque. -convidou, e não resisti em arrastar minha cadeira o mais perto possível de sua cela para me acomodar confortavelmente do outro lado do vidro.
Eu posso estar muito ferrada depois, mas agora uma noite com meus personagens favoritos em pauta e os olhos verdes de um certo deus pareciam bem seguros. Pelo menos, só por essa noite.
Pepper took a moment in the kitchen after Tony's message to compose herself. She didn't want little Morgan to see her cry. Placing her hand against the counter, she steadied herself and took a shaky breath.
"Pepper?" you called, hand placed on her shoulder and squeezing it softly. She needed comfort, that was clear. "I know, it doesn't seem like it. But things will be ok" you whispered to her. Hugging her as she turned to you. "You'll be ok, so will Morgan. You guys have an amazing extended family and they'll be here for you both" you promised her.
"You're too good" she whispered softly as she pulled away, wiping her tears from the corners of her eyes. "Come on, don't be alone. Come back out to everyone" you urged you, bringing back out to sit down with Laura and her kids who were playing with Morgan. Looking out the window, you saw the rest of the avengers. Gearing up to send Steve back with the stones.
Coming out to them, you stood beside Bucky as he disappeared before returning a few seconds later. Smiling as you recognised the old man in front of you all. Steve smiled as he saw you, chuckling a bit as he shook his head. "You're very bold. Staying this long" he said, confusing the men around you all. "Probably. Did the wedding at least turn out ok?" you wondered, rocking back and forth on your feet. "You'll have to go see yourself" he nodded a bit.
"I don't understand" Clint chimed in then. Feeling as if there was something he was missing. "Time travel is a little more advanced in the future," you told them all with a grin. Clicking your watch to turn into a more sophisticated machine. "Unlike Steve, we don't have to age as much anymore when travelling around" you glanced at Steve and smiled.
"Who are you," Bruce asked then, looking between yourself and Steve. Who seemed to understand exactly who you were. Before you could answer, Morgan ran up and jumped into your arms. "Ok sweetheart, so remember what I told you. What are we not going to do when we're 11" you tell her. Causing the child to giggle with laughter and repeat what you had told her. "Cut our hair." You nodded slowly, glad she had listened. "Because we regret it to this day" she added and you laughed in return with her.
"Your... Morgan?" Bruce answered his own question. "But why?"
"Four year old me lost my dad. I had the power to get to know him, the real him. So I jumped around time, from 2008 to now. To see him at his highs and lows. With mom, with Happy and Rodey. With his friends" you explained. To you it made sense. You had the technology and the time to do it. In your own timeline, you had missed around 3 days worth of time. Meaning you didn't age at all.
"Well, I better get back. I'll be late for our wedding" you said before kissing Morgans head and letting her down. Watching her run back off to Pepper who by now seemed to be a bit more stable. You knew the next few years would be hard for her. But she would be ok.
"And who do you marry," Thor asked. It was probably the least important question at that current moment but the thought had come to him. "Well, if I told you everything about the future. You'd never have any surprises" you teased him. Grinning a bit as he rolled his eyes. You pressed on your wrist pad again, your iron suit forming around your body. It was similar to your father's ones. Red but instead of gold, you had silver.
W.E.D.N.E.S.D.A.Y. spoke loudly then "Mark 424 is ready for the time jump." You nodded slowly and took some steps away from everyone.
Looking up at them all, you took in their faces. The Avengers, Shield agents, other heroes. It had been worth it. Getting to know them all. Being their friend, their ally. "See you all..." you said before stopping, saying soon seemed a bit silly. Morgan, younger Morgan, was there with them. She would never leave. "At the church, I guess" you chuckled. Morgan waved to you then from the porch of the house. Calling out to you and waving like a mad thing. You waved back before putting on your helmet. Pressing the button on your suit and jumping forward to the future.
You landed exactly where you wanted. The hotel room with your dress and things to get ready with. Pressing the core of your suit, it folded away to be the silver bracelet on your wrist again. You looked at the time. Just past noon, plenty of time to get ready for your wedding in three hours. You had missed three days, but no one knew you had gone. You had only told your brother, Peter. And he covered for you, you were sure.
"Sweetie, are you back?" Pepper asked as she came into the room, hair in curlers and in a dressing gown. She smiled as she saw you brushing your hair. "Yeah mom, I am" you replied. Sitting down and smiling back at you.
She helped you get ready, fixing your hair and makeup, fanning out the dress. "Your father would be so proud of you today" she whispered, tears coming to her eyes as she thought of what he was missing. Walking you down the aisle, dancing with you, instead, you asked Happy to be in his place.
"I know, mom. I know" you replied. Knowing exactly what your father would have felt.
IM GONNA CRY YOU GUYSS! Thank YOU so much to all of you!
Thank you so so so much to all of you who have liked, commented, reblogged and followed me! I am very very happy to have made it this far! I know It had been long time without me writing and that I have half written stories.... But really, your support only makes me want to keep writing for you and bring you better stories! You make me want to improve, and that's the best thing of all.
Thank you so much for everything, for the almost 500 followers.
Thank you for giving me a chance!
You are all the best! Again, thank YOU! ❤️
Have all a wonderful day/night, stay safe and remember that you are all awesome and loved! 🥰 Xxx
Ps. #1: out of topic but if by chance any of you needs someone to talk about anything, my DMs are open for everyone! We can be friends!
Just realized that the She-Hulk show is going to hopefully humanize Bruce. We may actually hear him be referred to as Bruce and Hulk instead of just Doctor or Banner. Seeing Bruce through Jennifer’s eyes could be the best thing marvel has done for his character.
(Infinity war AU: Loki lives and leaves the Statesman with Bruce Banner. Multi chapter fic, enjoy the ride babes xo)
taglist: @woahthisguy (ask to be added if u like!)
When Loki woke, part of him still thought that he was on the Statesman. Still aboard that cursed vessel, with smoke filling his lungs and the maddening glare of the stones shining before his eyes. Rays of sunlight filtered into his vision, and he felt broken wood under his fingertips - but part of him still expected to see Thanos’s golden boot step into his vision. Still expected to see his brother, bloodied and bruised, a lifeless body tossed beside him. Expected to hear his last pained scream as the power stone touched his head, to smell the ozone building in the air and to see the final flash of lightning that would signal his brother’s journey into Valhalla.
What he heard was the sound of birds.
Muffled by walls, but there. Birds, nature, the faint sounds of traffic and conversation bleeding in through the ringing in his hears. He opened his eyes, grunting slightly as he felt splintered beams digging into his side from where he fell. A neat hole in the ceiling signalled his entry; he stared up at the familiar sun and sky, and let his eyes fall shut again with a groan.
But not just anywhere in Midgard. He inhaled the musty air, coughing out the dust from his throat. Magic - he could sense it everywhere. It clung to every surface of this place, seeping into the floorboards with a familiar sense of order and learning. Not just magic - sorcery.
Loki sat up. Pulled himself out of the hole he’d created in the floor, and almost buckled under the weight of the familiarity of this place. The Sorcerer’s Home. Where he’d been suspended in animation for over half an hour, only to be dropped onto the marbled floor and told that they were going to see Odin. He remembered Thor’s voice, then. That was one of the last times he’d sounded like himself. Before the Norns had twisted the last few strands of their monstrous tapestry, and brought their world crashing down around them. Around Thor, to put it more aptly. Loki had shed no tears for Odin. Hadn’t felt the same coiled rage in the pit of his stomach as when Frigga had died. But it had signalled the beginning of the End, for them. The beginning of Ragnarok. The twisted path that had dragged them from Midgard to Sakaar to Asgard and finally to a barely held together spaceship crawling through the stars.
And then to oblivion.
Loki flexed his fingers, stepping onto the cold marble floors, and allowed himself a moment of respite. This wasn’t good. Out of the frying pan, and into the proverbial fire. Midgard may have meant refuge for Thor, but not for him.
Voices sounded from outside the doors. Loki stepped quickly, pressing himself against the wall - not that it would do any good. The Sorcerer had sensed them from oceans away, last time. He could pluck him out of thin air if he so chose, and deposit him at his feet. But it felt right, at least. Sensible. Slinking his way in and out of the shadows was what he was used to, and he needed some familiarity right now. Stability in any form; even if it was just a repeated motion from a lifetime that was now obsolete.
“The Avengers broke up. We’re toast.” Smooth, honeyed tones from beyond the door; a voice that could have been roughed with anger, but the edges smoothed down into something more palatable. Stark.
“What do you mean, broke up? Like a band? Like the Beatles?” Another voice sounded off - this one inquisitive, confused, but still with a certain fog - like someone coming out of a long sleep, trying to recount a dream that was fading rapidly. Banner, then.
Loki leaned back against the wall, silently cursing his luck. Of all people he encountered, it had to be Stark. Someone who Loki’s last fond memory of was tossing him out of a window - and even that was marred with the faint blue tint of the mind stone’s power. He couldn’t even enjoy throwing Stark out of that window. Couldn’t even take credit for it, really.
He shifted his fingers again, feeling the familiar steel of his dagger morph into life in his hands. That brought a little comfort, at least. Even if he knew in his heart he wasn’t in much shape to fight off the Avengers right now.
He had Banner to vouch for him - maybe. But Banner didn’t have the same trust in him that Thor had. And Thor wasn’t here to echo that sentiment to his allies, because Thor was dea-
“Thor’s gone.” Banner’s voice resounded off the walls again, subdued and uncertain.
Loki didn’t know why that word suddenly made him so angry.
Gone implied things. It implied uncertainty; that they didn’t know where Thor was, or what had happened to him. Gone implied that Thor could come back. Gone implied hope.
It wasn’t Banner’s fault. He didn’t know any better, didn’t know the full extent of what Thanos could do.
And maybe that’s what drove him out of the shadows, moving just beyond the doorway to stand in the light.
“Thor isn’t gone. He’s dead.” Loki almost winced at his own voice - rough and jagged and far from the silver tongued smoothness he was used to.
But the look on Stark’s face almost made up for it. Alarm creeping into the eyes beneath the sunglasses, a memory of when Loki had last seemed glorious. Unstoppable. A raging inferno fanned by the mind stone, laying waste to Midgard’s streets with an army of monsters at his side. Memories of grand speeches and golden horns. Stark’s hands twitched, grabbing onto a small cord at the collar of his shirt that would probably unfold into some trinket or other, meant to blast him across the room with a quippy one liner to follow it.
Banner’s eyes widened for a moment, but softened just as fast, and he took a few steps forward. Not all the way - he was still too smart to move all the way - but enough. Enough for a placating gesture, at least.
“We don’t know that, Loki. He could’ve escaped, he could’ve-”
“Correction - you don’t know that. I do. Thanos wouldn’t leave someone like him alive.” Loki shook his head, a hollow laugh forcing its way out of his lips. “He was too much of a threat.”
“The Tesseract?” The voice of the sorcerer from his side caused Loki to turn, meeting Strange’s scrutinizing gaze with what he hoped was a mask of steel.
“Thanos has it. And the power stone.”
“Then he’ll be coming for the rest.” One gloved hand drifted idly to the necklace around Strange’s neck, his face setting in grim resignation.
“I’m sorry, am I missing something? Why are we all standing here talking to this guy? Last time I checked, he was working with Thanos, and was very much in favour of - I don’t know, murdering us all?”
Stark finally jarred himself out of whatever train of thought he’d been following, moving forward to grab Banner by the arm - like a mother, reaching out to snatch her children from sticking their hand into a campfire.
“Tony, it’s fine. Well, it’s not fine. But Loki’s with us on this one.” Banner shrugged his shoulders, batting at Stark’s hand with a twinge of embarrassment.
Stark scoffed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.
“So I’m just supposed to trust him because, what? It’s a ‘long story’?”
“Oh, God no. But he is on our side.” Bruce frowned, gesturing at Loki listlessly. “Look, do you think he’d look like that if he was working with Thanos?”
Loki shot him a glare, but tilted his dagger upwards to try and catch a blurred glimpse at his reflection. Even in the unclear mirror, he couldn’t deny that Banner was right. Soot smudged along his cheeks, rimming the glaring red cuts on his face with black. Dark circles stamped under his eyes, there was blood beneath his fingernails. He looked unhinged.
A stretch of the neck, a flex of the fingers, a flash of gold, and he was whole again. The grime still clung to his skin, but it was hidden now, at least. He tilted his chin up, spreading his hands out wide.
“I am not here to pick a fight with you, Stark. Nor any of Midgard. But Thanos must be stopped, and you’re going to need more than the Avengers to do it. You can kill me, or imprison me, but buried beneath that colossal ego of yours, you know you need me.”
Stark’s jaw clenched, and for a few moments Loki expected the flash of a cannon and the impact of a missile hitting his chest. What he got instead was a sigh, tight and constrained, and a small nod in Banner’s direction.
“Fine. But if this blows up in my face, you owe me like...a million cups of coffee.”
Banner shrugged, and the three Midgardian’s continued their discussion.
It wasn’t a discussion Loki wanted to participate in - and by their hunched shoulders and wary looks, it wasn’t one he was privy to, either. Which was just fine by him. He tapped his fingers against his elbows, and wandered about the room.
So many artefacts that he hadn’t paid attention to last time. This room hummed with magic, every table, every chair, every floorboard was steeped in it; like fragranced smoke clinging to a curtain.
He overheard some of the conversation, of course. Talks of a great battle between their Captain America and the Iron Man; a rift between the team that had grown into a chasm - one that strangely he hoped would be mended. Not for their sake, of course; it would just be easier to fight Thanos if they all united as one, and fought together rather than apart, and -
Norns, he was starting to sound like Thor. He shut his eyes, shrugging his shoulders to try and rid himself of the sentiment. It was funny what a few moments of desperation could do to you. The death of his mother, and he worked with Thor again. The death of his father, and he saved a world he swore to hate. The death of his brother, and now he was talking of comradery with the Avengers.
Banner kept casting looks at him from across the room. Worried looks, but not for his own safety - at least, not entirely. Banner looked worried for him, and for some reason that filled him with vitriol, anger that was acidic and spiteful.
Banner thought he was exaggerating. He still saw Thor as a golden hero, unbreakable and untouchable. He didn’t know.
He didn’t know that it was better for Thor to be dead. That when Loki said that Thor’s fate was sealed, it was not out of spite or doubt of Thor’s strength; it was out of hope. Loki would rather kill Thor himself than have him die at the hands of Thanos.
At least Loki’s steel would have been kinder. The flash of silver and the seconds it took for the blood to leave the body would be a mercy, compared to the dazzling pain of the gauntlet. Seconds still felt like seconds, when you were stabbed. The infinity stones stretched those seconds into hours. Loki knew from experience.
Before, he might have relished at the thought of causing Thor pain. Wherever this sentiment had come from, these feelings of care and brotherhood, he wanted them gone. They’d settled on his skin with the dust from Asgard, baked into the clay of his being in the fires of a supernova, watched from a spaceship window. If he had nothing from the beginning, he would’ve been fine. If Thor had died at his hand, hating him, he would’ve been fine.
Thor had died believing in him. And that was so much worse.
Screams erupted from outside, and all four of them glanced towards the doorways.
“God, already? It’s been what, five minutes since you two crash through the window and now we’ve got more party guests?” Stark rubbed at his forehead, probably nursing an oncoming migraine.
“I guess they move fast. Let’s go.” Strange and Stark headed towards the doorway of the sanctum, but Banner lingered behind.
The scientist paused at Loki’s side, looking at him with a gaze that was suddenly inscrutable. No easily provoked anger that Loki could stoke into a wildfire to keep the sadness at bay. No mistrust. Just a hint of sadness, and a twinge of concern in his voice when he asked:
“Are you alright?”
Loki’s hand lifted to his face, feeling the wetness of tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He stared at his fingers, before wiping them against the material of his jacket.
No time for this. Not right now.
“I’m fine.” Loki gritted his teeth, flipping his dagger in his hand.
Loki didn’t take much stock in legacy. He’d had his fair share of prophecies and purposes, and none of them had quite worked out the way he’d wanted - or expected. Fates could be changed with the flip of a dice - his birthright had been to die one moment, inherit the throne the next. He was destined to be the doom of Midgard and the saviour of Asgard and somewhere along these severed threads of prophecy he’d realised that it was all just chaos. He’d rather be an agent of that, than a warrior honouring the stories of someone else.
Thor’s story felt different, though. If he was going to honour anything in his life, maybe his brother could be the exception. Maybe he could help protect this fragile blue planet from this destruction; just this once.
Loki gripped the dagger harder, until his knuckles turned white.
Midgard waited on the other side of that door. A place that he had chosen to conquer, and Thor had chosen to care for.
If it didn’t die today, he knew it’d be a matter of time before it died from something else. But he wouldn’t let it be lost today.
Thor believed in him. He’d died believing in him.
Honour that, then. Honour his stubbornness, if nothing else. What better legacy was there to leave Thor with, than postponing the dying light of a planet just because?
Chaos and stubbornness. What better combination was there than that?
Series Masterlist | Character Refrence
Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)
Word Count: 1849
Warnings: Pregnancy and minor language on chapter.
Synopsis: Almost 40 years after Elise Cooper first crashed into Natasha Romanoff outside the library at Columbia University, she and the Avengers are adapting to a near-immortal life together with their large brood of children. Yet things aren’t perfect. Life is moving on without them and they’re starting to discover who isolating being immortal can be.When Angela comes and asks Thor to take the throne of Asgard once more, the group leaves Earth in the hopes that they will find their Happily Ever After there.
Chapter 2: Anger Issues
When Marya returned home from school that day we were all ready to meet her. Marya was sixteen years old, a little taller than I was, with dark hair and light brown eyes - just like Bruce. Those weren’t the only things she’d inherited from her biological father. She was extremely intelligent and had been skipped ahead a grade in school. There had been talk about skipping her ahead more than that, but it wasn’t something encouraged in schools due to the strain it has on children’s emotional and social development. So instead she was finishing up high school with her peer group while taking college courses as electives.
She also had her own little green problem.
Her powers worked differently from Bruce’s. She could turn into a hulk, and that transformation could be triggered by extreme negative emotions - not just anger, but when she was really sad or anxious too. Unlike Bruce though, she never had to worry about sharing her body with another person. When she changed she was always herself and generally she had such precision control over the transformation that she could do it on command, much as Bruce could after the bonding ceremony all those years ago.
She looked around suspiciously at us as we called her over to the couches by the large window, typically the place where we had family meetings. It was usually where we spoke to the kids if they had done something they probably shouldn’t have. We took an approach with our parenting where they didn’t usually get in trouble for misbehaving. Rather we tried to think of a real-world consequence for what they’d done. For example, if they were fighting they had to sit down and listen to each other’s grievances and then work out a way to both come to an understanding about how the other feels and try to make each other feel better. It didn’t always work, but we figured it was better than arbitrarily making them go sit in the corner. So it made sense that she’d think she was in trouble for something.
“What’d I do?” She asked, dropping her backpack on the ground while she stood looking at her gathered parents.
“Why don’t you tell us?” Sam teased. “And we’ll tell you if that’s it.”
“I’m not falling for that,” Marya snarked, folding her arms across her chest.
“Honey, sit down,” Steve said, gently. “You’re not in trouble. We just need to tell you something.”
Marya sat down carefully, looking at everyone with deep suspicion. “Is someone else pregnant? Are you trying to populate Earth with just our family?”
“No,” Clint laughed. “What the hell?”
I rolled my eyes. “Honestly, honey, I sometimes think the same thing,” I said. “But that’s not what this is.”
“Your Aunt Angela came to visit today,” Steve explained. “She’s giving up the throne of Asgard.”
“Does that mean Riley’s going to be queen?” Marya asked, looking over at Thor. “I can’t believe my sister’s going to be the queen of a whole other planet.”
Thor shook his head. “Riley is still too young to rule by Asgardian standards. My people - our people - would consider that the equivalent of having Zak as their king. I have to step up and take the lead.”
“Which means, we are moving to Asgard,” Steve finished. “I know that...”
“What?” Marya yelped, interrupting Steve as she blinked at us. “When?”
“Within the month,” Steve said.
“But I have school!” Marya shouted. Her fists clenched and she started to turn green at the edges. “And what about my friends? You can’t just take me away from everyone I ever knew!”
“Mar,” Bruce said, gently. “Deep breath. Get that under control.”
“Don’t tell me how to feel!” Marya shouted, slamming her hands on the coffee table and sending a large crack through the heavy wood. I jumped a little, startled at her violent reaction, and the green started to creep into her arms starting at her hands, making her muscles swell and double in size.
Sam moved forward and crouched in front of his daughter, taking both her hands in his and looking into her eyes. “Marya,” Sam said with a gentle yet commanding tone. “I know you’re upset, but you need to talk about this rationally. If you can’t talk about it, you’re gonna have to go to your room to cool off first.”
She started crying and pulled her hands out of his. “It’s not fair!” She cried. “I don’t even get a say about whether or not you take me away from my friends. My whole goddamn planet?”
“Honey,” Steve said, wrapping his arm around Marya’s shoulders. “I know this is tough. I really do. But we’re partially doing it for you.”
“I don’t see how taking me from my friends is somehow supposed to be good for me,” she grumbled.
“Alright, kid,” Natasha said. “I’m going to give you some harsh truths here. You’re going to lose them anyway. Maybe not all of them anytime soon, but the ones you would have kept in your life you’d have had to watch age and die. Just like we all have done and are with our friends and family. We want to save you what’s happening with Rose. We don’t want you to have to fall in love and then watch them fade out while you’re stuck looking like you can’t buy a beer.”
Marya started crying harder and fell into Steve’s side and Wanda glared at Natasha. “You didn’t have to be so harsh,” Wanda snapped.
“Well babying her wasn’t doing it either,” Natasha argued. “She needs to hear it. She might not like it, but going to Asgard is what’s best for her.”
“Can’t I even finish school?” Marya begged. “I could stay with Eddie - or Rose. Or one of my friends. And then… then I’ll come.”
“There will be school for you on Asgard,” Thor said. “And it will teach you things that far outreach anything any of you have learned on Midgard. Riley and Pietro both attend and they learn of the world tree, and alien languages, advanced mathematics, and magic. You are already holding yourself back to fit in, daughter. You would never have to hide any part of you in Asgard. Not your intelligence, and not this -” he tapped her arm where it was still tinged with green.
“And I’ll make it so you can talk to your friends here. We’ll set up a line of communication,” Tony added. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure my kids don’t go without Tumblr and Instagram. Imagine how many followers you’ll get posting selfies in Asgard.”
“I already have a tonne of followers, dad,” Marya sniffed. “I’m a Skjodbærer.”
“Yes, you are,” Tony said. “And don’t you forget it. The whole universe is yours.”
“We’ll make sure we come back to visit,” I said. “We all still have friends here, and places we like to spend our time.”
“Yeah, who’s going to annoy Katie-Kate if I’m not around?” Clint joked.
Marya let out a small laugh that was still more tears than actual laughter. “I’m sure she’d hate not being annoyed by you.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Clint said and patted Marya on the thigh.
“We aren’t doing this to punish you, Mar,” Sam soothed. “I promise. We’ve all been talking about this for a long time, and we were going to wait, but your dad can’t anymore. He has to go and rule his kingdom. And sometimes we have to give up what we want to do for what we need to.”
Marya let out a long slow breath and nodded. “I know. I know, dad. They’re still my friends though and I’m still sad about it.”
“I know,” Wanda said. “Being sad is normal.”
“Can I have a goodbye party?” Marya asked.
“Look who you’re talking to,” Tony teased. “The biggest.”
She sat silently for a moment and nodded again. “If I really hate it, can I come back again?”
“You need to give it a proper chance,” Steve said.
“I will,” she assured him. “I just… I don’t…”
“If you really hate it, you can come back,” I said, cutting Steve off before he had a chance to reply. “We won’t like it, but our kids being happy and healthy is the thing we want most. We just think… in the long run, this is the best option for that.”
“I know,” Marya said. She looked around at anyone and kicked at her bag. “Can I go now?”
“One thing first,” Steve said, tapping the table where she cracked it. “What are we going to do about this?”
Marya sighed and looked at it. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“And…?” Steve pressed.
“And… I’ll go see if I can find someone who can repair it. If I can’t, I’ll shop for a suitable replacement. And… and I’ll volunteer at the soup kitchen for the Sundays before we leave as a stand-in for the fact I don’t need to earn money to pay for these things.”
“Good girl,” Steve said. “Dinner will be at 6.30.”
Marya stood up and grabbed her back. “Okay.”
“Marya,” I said. “We love you.”
She smiled a little and nodded. “I love you all too.”
We watched her disappear up the stairs and Bruce sat back and ran his palms over his scalp. “I really need to help her deal with her anger.”
Bucky patted his arm. “It’s usual teen stuff. We’ve seen it before -” he gestured to me “- we’ll see it again.”
“Yeah, but when any of the others got upset we didn’t have to worry about them breaking the building,” Bruce said.
“Umm… do I need to remind you about that tantrum Riley had that meant we had to remodel her room,” I said.
Bruce chuckled and nodded. “Right. I guess.”
“It won’t hurt to work with her more,” Sam said. “But don’t think that her having a temper is on you. She’s hyper-intelligent and smart kids often deal with anxiety because they’re always thinking ten steps ahead about all the potential terrible outcomes.”
“Tell me about it,” Tony snarked.
“Yes, Tony, you’re a genius, we all know,” Bucky teased.
“I do not like that I am the reason for her distress,” Thor said. “We could always go back to how it was before Angela took the throne.”
“And barely get to see you?” Clint said. “I don’t fuckin’ think so.”
“That’s not going to happen, Thor,” Steve said. “We’ve been talking about this for a while. It’s time. Sometimes kids have to move because their parents are. It’s not fun for them. But she will adapt and it is better it happens sooner than for her to fall into this society's expectations for when she should be doing things.”
Thor nodded, though he didn’t look completely convinced.
“Alright,” Clint said, clapping his hands. “Enough about moody teenagers. We have a lot to work out.”
“It’s going to be a big change,” I said. “But we’ve gotten really good at those, and in my experience, they always worked out for the best.”
Summary: The reader has some very unhealthy eating habits that they avoid sharing with the team. One day, however, it catches up with them and the team expresses their support and concern.
Warnings: Disordered eating, food intake restriction, mentions of body insecurities, brief mentions of nausea and vomiting
A/N: This fic is in NO WAY meant to promote or glorify eating disorders and/or disordered eating. As with all of my fics, this is based off of my personal experiences. The feelings and things I experience/have experienced may be different from those of other people. Please do not consider this to be a 100% accurate representation of disordered eating. Everybody experiences these things differently.
If you feel that this fic may cause you any distress, anxiety, relapse, etc. PLEASE do not read it. You know yourself best, make the choice that is right for you. If you ever want to talk about anything, my inbox is always open and I’m more than willing to talk about anything.
The number flashed at you from the LED screen of the scale. “Ugh, it’s mocking me,” you thought to yourself. You turned around and stared at your reflection in the mirror. You stood in just your underwear, as you ran your hand over your relatively flat stomach. You had worked very hard to obtain this figure- and you were damn proud of it- when you looked in the mirror and saw your flat stomach and thin body reflected back at you, you felt a surge of confidence- you felt content. However, no one’s body always looked like that, and of course whenever you would eat a meal your stomach would expand, making that slim, fit looking stomach disappear.
Realistically, you knew this was normal- it happened to everybody- and you also knew that if you were to gain weight, it wouldn’t be the end of the world; you would still look perfectly fine no matter how your stomach and waist looked. But it was an obsession, and no amount of logic or reasoning could assuage the immense terror and nausea you felt when you even thought about gaining weight. You were at a healthy weight for your height and age- and you weren’t anorexic or bulimic- you still ate.
However, your diet and eating schedule were terrible. And honestly, you did it on purpose. You knew that in the long run, eating (or more accurately, not eating) like this would probably have the opposite of the desired effect on your body. But you just couldn’t explain the dizziness, nausea, and anxiety that filled your body when you considered having a normal diet and meal intake.
You were actually a little worried that you may have completely screwed up your body with your unhealthy habits. You had been doing this for years- and now, you hardly ever got hungry anymore. Sometimes you felt those aches and pangs of hunger in your stomach, but for some reason you liked it. It made you proud of yourself in some sick way, because you knew you were depriving your body of what it needed, and slowly causing your ribs to become more visible and your wrists to become bonier. You knew that something was wrong with your mind- you were sick- but you had no desire to fix it. Oftentimes, even the smell of food was enough to make you feel sick and nauseous.
Had you lived by yourself, this would’ve been fine; however, you were a resident of the Avengers compound and were almost constantly surrounded by at least one person, if not more. This meant it was very difficult for you to hide your incredibly unhealthy eating habits.
Most days, you forgot to eat until 3 or 4 pm; the thought genuinely slipping your mind because you just didn’t feel hungry. You had no want or need for food, so you generally forgot. Until you got a splitting headache, that is. You rarely ever drank enough water- you basically survived off of coffee.
As a team member of the Avengers, you were required to attend training sessions several times a week. Your skills were mainly in physical combat and working with technology. You usually brought water to these training sessions- you weren’t that foolish- but the lack of substantial nutrients in your body made the sessions that much harder.
You had periods of time when you would eat slightly more food and on a semi-regular basis. But after screwing with your body for so long, your desires and cravings (or lack thereof) for food were unpredictable.
Today was a training day and you were set to work on hand to hand combat with Steve. You often cursed the super soldier for his intuition and knack for observing others and picking up on their feelings and concerns. This had nothing to do with Steve being a super soldier, he was just a naturally observant person; which meant that he always noticed when you felt worn down from having little to no food or water that day.
Today was a particularly intense training day, and after 30 minutes you were already drenched in sweat. It didn’t take long before your movements and reflexes became sluggish. It was 3:30 in the afternoon at that point and you had eaten nothing but a few almonds today. Steve seemed to notice your exhaustion, and called for a five minute break. You both walked over to a table and chairs off to the side of the training area and took a seat.
“Hey Y/N, are you sure you’re alright? Did you get enough sleep last night?” Steve wearing a concerned expression and staring at you with that intense gaze of his. You looked away from his eyes because you found it very difficult to lie when making direct eye contact with him. Something about his expression and demeanor made you feel nervous and heavily scrutinized. You settled for simply nodding.
“You sure? You seem like you’re dragging a little today. We can take a break if you need to and come back to this tomorrow,” Steve offered. You panicked, fearing that it would raise suspicion if you agreed to that.
“No no, I’m fine, I wanna train. Come on, let’s get back to it,” you said, standing up quickly. That was a big mistake; not only were you running on no food, but you were also anemic, which meant that standing up too quickly was never a good idea.
Your ears began to ring and you felt as though you had put your head underwater. Everything sounded muffled and distant and your vision swam before your eyes. You felt your breathing pick up and saw spots in your vision as you felt your body grow incredibly warm. Oh no- this is how your body reacted whenever you were going to pass out. You didn’t want to do that- that would DEFINITELY raise suspicion. Your brain sluggishly decided that you should try and sit back down. And with that, you collapsed to the floor, as everything went black.
When you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was a lot of bright light. You squinted, your head aching from all the lights and sounds. You groaned and rubbed your eyes, yawning.
“Well, look who finally decided to wake up!” Tony said jovially. Your eyes were closed, but you could tell that he was smirking at you, just from the sound of his voice.
“Y/N, what the hell happened?” another, gentler voice asked. You knew that voice- you were still groggy, so it took you a second to place who it was. Bucky, that was Bucky’s voice. Slowly, you opened your eyes and saw the entire team gathered around you, all packed tightly together. You stared at them, looking slightly dazed and confused.
“W-what happened?” you asked, struggling to recall what you had been doing before waking up here.
“We were training and you stood up and then just passed out. You probably would’ve hit your head if I hadn’t caught you,” Steve said, the worry evident in his voice. Slowly, it all started coming back to you and a look of complete horror made its way onto your face. Suddenly, Bruce spoke up.
“Y/N, you passed out from dehydration and a lack of food; were you starving yourself?” he asked. You quickly turned your head towards your left to look at him.
“No, no I wasn’t!” you protested quickly. You technically weren’t lying; you had been eating, you had just been eating in very small increments, on an incredibly irregular schedule.
“Come on Y/N, seriously. We’re not mad at you, we just wanna know the truth. We’re worried about you,” Sam said, sounding as though he was trying to avoid scaring you off.
“I know, I know. I promise you guys, I’m not starving myself and I AM eating. I mean look at me, have I lost any weight? I still look the same as always. I was just being stupid and forgot to eat enough before training that day, alright?” The team scrutinized you with suspicion, exchanging looks.
“I’m FINE guys, I promise,” you said again. After a minute of silence, Bruce just sighed.
“You need to be more careful in the future Y/N,” he said, still eyeing you suspiciously, as though he didn’t believe you were being completely honest.
Ever since that fateful day, the team kept a much closer eye on you, especially in the kitchen and during mealtimes. You tried to follow your same routine as you usually did: take a small amount of food, eat that (to avoid getting a headache), grab something small and unhealthy with very little nutrients, make yourself some coffee, and escape to your room. But the team wasn’t having it.
On Wednesday, Sam made some dish with rice, which he said was a family recipe. Everyone piled their plates with food, gathering around the island in the kitchen where the food was sitting. You filled your plate with a small portion- truthfully, it did look good- but today was one of those days when even the smell of food made you feel queasy and nauseous.
You scooped a bit of rice, and you were about to head to the table, when you felt Bucky gently- but firmly- grip your arm to prevent you from walking any further.
“Nope,” he said casually, reaching around and grabbing your plate with his other hand.
“Hey!” you exclaimed, your voice filled with irritation. He released your arm, so he could add more food to your plate- a lot more- and handed it back to you. Holy shit- there was no way you were going to be able to eat all of that- and it wasn’t just due to a fear of gaining weight. Your appetite had shrunk A LOT since you had first started restricting your eating. You honestly couldn’t remember when it started, but you knew that you definitely couldn’t eat as much food as before. Bucky seemed satisfied with himself, and you made your way back to the table quietly.
You noticed as you sat down that your hands were shaking slightly. You hid them under the table, hoping that no one would notice. You ate the amount that you would normally eat- which was about as much as you could stomach- and left the rest of the food untouched.
“Hey,” Tony said, using his fork as a pointer and directing it at you. “Finish your food,” he said, sounding jokingly stern. You felt like a child being reprimanded.
“It’s super good Sam…” you said, trailing off as though you were preparing to add a ‘but’ in there.
“Oh what, so now you’re saying my food isn’t good?” Sam said, pretending to be offended.
“What no- I-”
“No no it’s fine, I know what you were about to say. You were gonna say ‘it’s super good Sam, but I’m so full’ or something. The classic excuse!” he exclaimed overdramatically, as Steve and Bucky laughed at his antics. You knew he was just joking, but you were already so anxious and hyper-sensitive that you suddenly felt the burning sensation of tears build behind your eyes. Oh fuck no, you were not going to let yourself cry in front of the entire team. You blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears that were forming. Only Wanda and Natasha- bless their hearts- seemed to notice your growing distress.
“Hey guys, cut it out,” Natasha said. Her tone was stern enough that the three men stopped their laughter and glanced over at you.
“Hey, Y/N/N I was joking, you know that right? I know you don’t hate my cooking,” Sam said, his voice kind and gentle. You didn’t say anything, just nodding and continuing to stare at your plate. Wanda rubbed your shoulder gently. She leaned close so that only you could hear her and said,
“You okay? Do you want to go to your room?” You nodded and she got out of her seat and took your hand, helping you up and guiding you out of the room with her hand on your shoulder. The rest of the team (with the exception of Natasha) stared after you in stunned silence. As you walked away, you heard Bucky mumble,
“Wow, way to go Sam.”
“Me!?” Sam exclaimed slightly louder. “You stole her plate!”
“Will both of you knock it off?” Steve said.
Several hours later, there was a knock at your door. Wanda had stayed with you the whole time, talking about your eating habits and why you felt the way you did about your body. Wanda glanced towards the door, and then back at you.
“Do you want me to open it?” she asked.
“Yeah, I guess so. It’s probably Sam,” you said, sounding tired. Wanda got up from the bed and walked over to the door and opened it.
“Oh- hello- okay you’re all here,” she said, sounding slightly surprised.
“Can we come talk to Y/N?” you heard Bucky ask. Wanda looked back at you once again, silently asking if you were okay with it. You simply nodded and sat back against your wall, clutching a pillow to your chest and hugging your knees. Bruce, Tony, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Natasha all entered and stood a couple feet away from your bed. They stood in awkward silence for a moment, before Sam finally spoke.
“Hey Y/N/N, we just came to apologize for everything. I’m sorry for messing with you and I hope you know I’m not really mad at you. If anything, we’re all pretty worried about you.” You nodded and said,
“Yeah, I know. That’s not what it was about.” You looked at your knees and began picking at a thread on your jeans. After another moment of silence, Steve said,
“Well… could you tell us what it was about? I understand if you don’t want to, but we just want to know what’s going on so we can help you.” You turned to look at Wanda, who nodded at you. Even though no words were exchanged, you could tell she was saying: “You should tell them. You can trust them, they’re your friends.” Sighing, you nodded back at her and turned to face the team once more.
“Okay. But you have to let me explain everything before you say anything,” you said, your tone cautious. The team all nodded and gave various responses of understanding and agreement.
Sighing, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself to share one of your biggest secrets/insecurities.
“Okay, well… I don’t know when it all started- I remember figuring out that weight was something people were insecure about- and by 7 years old I had started scrutinizing my appearance a lot, and keeping a close eye on how I looked,” you paused, still picking at the strings on your pants and refusing to look up at your friends.
“I remember I had a crush on this kid in 7th grade who used to make jokes about my weight and jokingly called me fat. Realistically, I knew I wasn’t fat, but since I cared so much about that kid’s opinion I began to wonder what they saw when they looked at me. What everyone saw. If they could make jokes about me being fat, I figured that that meant there had to be some truth to it. Otherwise, why would they joke about it? When I finally hit the 100 lbs mark somewhere between 7th-8th grade, I started to panic. Even though I knew it was normal for my age, I didn’t like the fact that I was gaining weight even if it was healthy. My weight would fluctuate a lot and if I complained about it, my parents told me I should exercise more or eat healthier foods, or snack less after school. I rarely ever had breakfast, and the school lunches weren’t very filling. So after school, I would go home and basically eat a small meal, and my mom would criticize me for it.
When my anxiety got really bad in high school and I got diagnosed with anemia, I felt nauseous a lot, so I usually didn’t want to eat much because I felt so sick. And then, I realized that my body was starting to look the way I wanted it to since I was eating in very small amounts. I could never completely stop eating… I was afraid of what would happen to me, and it tended to cause really bad migraines. So I always ate at least a little bit. But there were…” you hesitated, and then corrected yourself. “There ARE days when I don’t eat for a full 24 hours- sometimes even longer- and I’m proud of myself. I know I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it. Of course, no one has noticed because I still eat, so as long as no one looks too closely, they can’t tell that anything is abnormal. Which is what I want, because anytime someone tells me to eat more or criticizes my eating habits or tells me that what I’m doing is really unhealthy and dangerous, I start to panic. Because I don’t WANT to fix it. I know I should want to- and I should do something about it- but I don’t want to.” You were quiet for a moment before adding,
“Today was the first time I’ve ever passed out. I’ve never gone that far before. I don’t know what happened. I think my appetite has changed a lot since this all started. I can’t eat as much food as I used to and oftentimes I just don’t feel hungry. There are a lot of times when I can’t think of a single thing I want to eat- everything makes me feel sick- even though I can tell I should probably have something. So, yeah, that’s everything,” you finished quietly.
The room was silent for a minute before Tony sat down and pulled you into a side hug.
“I get it kid. For me, it has nothing to do with weight or insecurity- I just forget to eat. I get so wrapped up in my work and everything I have to do, that it just completely slips my mind. I don’t even feel hungry, so I don’t notice until I start to feel really weak and tired. Or until Bruce or Pepper remind me to eat or bring me food,” he added, with a grin in Bruce’s direction. Bruce chuckled a little.
“Yep, that’s what I’m here for. Reminding Tony to eat, sleep, and shower; if it weren’t for me, he would look like a homeless man,” Bruce said jokingly. The team laughed a little, glad to have something to break the tension a little.
“Hey, I know I won’t ever fully understand what it is you’re feeling, but I do want to help you. Can you promise me something kid?” Tony asked, giving you a serious look. You stared back at him curiously.
“Can you promise that you’ll try something for me?” Slowly you nodded, not entirely sure what you had just agreed to.
“Let’s help each other out. I won’t push you to eat a huge meal or criticize what you’re eating, but I want to check in with you a few times a day to make sure you’ve had something to eat and some water. And in return, you can help me make sure that I don’t forget to eat. Pepper’s been on my ass about it for years, telling me how unhealthy it is. So, if you let me help you, I’ll let you do the same for me. How does that sound?” Tony asked. You bit your lip and considered it for a moment. You did want to help Tony, and holding each other accountable for your eating habits didn’t seem so terrible. And he did promise he wouldn’t judge you or tell you what to eat. You still had control- you didn’t have to feel so trapped- like a small child being reprimanded by their parents.
“You promise you won’t judge me or get mad at me?” you asked with uncertainty.
“I promise,” Tony said, giving you a light squeeze. You thought about it for another moment before leaning your on his shoulder and saying,
“Okay. I promise.” Tony smiled down at you.
“Good. I’m proud of you kiddo,” he said.
“Would you feel okay about the rest of us checking in on you sometimes? Just making sure you feel okay and you’ve had some water or something?” Bucky asked. You considered him for a minute, looking at his concerned expression and let out a barely audible sigh.
“Yeah, okay. Just don’t judge me or make me feel bad, okay?” you said, looking around at the group. They all nodded, still wearing various expressions of concern and sadness on their faces.
“Alright, now stop looking at me like I just told you I have a terminal illness. I don’t need any pity,” you said, your tone playful. The group laughed at your joke, glad to see you were starting to get back to normal again.
“You know we love you, right Y/N/N?” Sam asked. You nodded and smiled at him.
“Yeah, I know. I know you guys are just looking out for me and I appreciate it. I love you guys.”
“We love you too Y/N,” Steve said with a smile. Smiling contentedly, you leaned into Tony’s shoulder again and closed your eyes, feeling calm for the first time in a while.
bruce banner is my favorite because sure he's the "reluctant hero" but he exhibits that in the FUNNIEST way possible bc whenever the other avengers do not have him in their direct line of sight poof he's gone
@thunderbringer sent: you can’t do this on your own.
"That isn't---" Bruce pauses, grimacing. He won't say it Isn't True, exactly; that remains to be seen. But Thor's statement is... imprecise? After all, the Physicist's technically never on his own anymore...
Not what he meant, Banner, Bruce admonishes himself. He turns to look up at the earnest concern in the Asgardian's face, the sheer disapproval for this plan writ clearly in the lines of his expression. God, has Thor ever had to hide a single emotion in his entire life? The scientist's own mouth pulls downward at the corners, and he tugs off his glasses to busy himself with cleaning the lenses (all the better to avoid the taller man's gaze).
"... You know I can't die. Nothing can actually kill me, and..." And? And Hulk is... Well. They're expendable. Both of them. Bruce sighs, chews his lip. It's better this way. Take the risks so others don't have to.
Glancing past Thor, to the idling airplane waiting to transport him over the drop zone, Banner shuffles a shrug, "It's just a little radiation," He says, making a bid at a joke (and oh, it’s a terrible one), "... what more harm could it possibly do to me?"