#rwrc

[kii-yan]

UM G NMBFVXSruIa

[robertdowneyjjr]

memories turn into daydreams become a taboo

written for the random words, random characters challenge on @marvelwritingchallenge. character: tony stark; words: memory, complex, suffering.

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Tony hasn’t been back here since the funeral. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to do so, back then, instead opting to stay at a hotel after the service so that he wouldn’t have to return to a cold and empty mansion that was no longer filled with the warmth of his mother’s laughter.

But now, after Siberia, after finding out the truth, Tony feels like it’s finally time --- if for nothing else, then closure.

He steps through the front doors and takes a deep breath. The air is stale, which isn’t surprising. Tony has a cleaning staff come through once a month to dust off all the furniture and air out the rooms, but otherwise there hasn’t been any signs of life in the place for over twenty years. Despite the sun shining bright through the windows, the house feels haunted. The floors need polishing. The curtains have yellowed. The flowers in the garden have long wilted and never bloomed again.

Tony takes his time touring through the mansion, slowly getting reacquainted with the place he grew up in. He visits every room, letting memory after memory wash over him in each one.

Not all of them are happy. He remembers falling and scraping his knee in the garden and running to Howard for help, only for him to tell Tony to get out of his sight. He can still see, clear as day, the tears in Jarvis’ eyes as he had to physically drag Tony from the foyer to the car when Tony screamed at him, crying at the top of his lungs about not wanting to go to boarding school. And he’ll never forget all the times he had curled up in bed, trying to tune out the world as his parents brought the house down with their explosive fights, arguing about Howard’s alcoholism and workaholism, arguing about Tony, and their frosty behavior towards each other that would last for days after every quarrel.

But he can still fondly recall brief moments of happiness that happened in this very house. Sunday mornings Tony spent with Ana and Jarvis in the kitchen, trying to help with mixing the pancake batter only to end up making a mess of things instead. The little blue box he kept hidden in the back of his closet filled with bits of circuitry and machinery that his mother would regularly snag for Tony from Howard’s lab. Bringing Rhodey back home the summer after their first year at MIT, introducing him to his mother and seeing her eyes light up at the sight of Tony finally making some friends.

No, Tony didn’t have the best childhood, with no peers his own age and an absent father, but there were still a handful of memories from his early life that he will cherish forever. His experiences made him the man he is today. Tony wouldn’t trade that for anything.

He’s been wandering around for almost two hours by the time he gets to the last room of the house. He had saved it for last, because he had known that he wouldn’t be able to stay in the mansion for much longer after seeing this room again. Maria Stark’s favorite area in the entire house. The place Tony last saw his parents alive and well, his mother singing her heart out. The music room.

Tears well up in Tony’s eyes the minute the door swings open. He quietly sniffles and blinks them away quickly before shuffling forward to take a seat in front of the piano.

Everyone knows that Tony is a gifted pianist. Howard used to make him play during parties hosted at the mansion, saying that if Tony insisted on such frivolous hobbies, he might as well put his skills to use entertaining Stark Industries’ investors. In the years following his parents’ death, Tony had never performed in front of anyone again, though he does make sure that each of his residences has a spot reserved for a grand piano. Guests are welcome to play when they are invited over, but Tony himself has always waved away requests for him to show off his talent, claiming to have stage fright, of all things. No one calls him out on his bullshit and he’ll always be grateful for that. Even when he’s alone, Tony only ever plays twice a year --- once on his mother’s birthday, and once on the anniversary of her death. And he rarely does so without a few drinks in his system first.

Today, he’s remarkably sober and it’s only June, but he figures exceptions can be made when it feels like life has turned completely upside down.

He flips the lid of the piano open and starts to gently peck out a C scale to warm up his fingers. He mindlessly runs his hands up and down the keys for a bit before shifting to the first strands of a complex tune that his mother had written and taught Tony for his eighth birthday.

As he plays, Tony closes his eyes and thinks back on what he knew about his mother. She was always poised, exuding elegance with every step that she took. She held her head up high but never looked down on anyone, never thought that she was too good or too important for other people. When she went out into the public, she always had a smile ready, though it rarely reached her eyes.

She wore her masks well --- something that Tony had learned from her early on. “Smile, mio bambino,” she always said. “The world can’t hurt you if you just keep smiling.”

Maria Stark was the strongest woman that Tony had ever known. She never let the world see her as anything but perfect, even through the silent suffering that came with being Howard Stark’s wife.

Tony finishes the final stanza of the song and takes a moment to stare down at the keys of the piano as the last note rings out across the room. His left hand is shaking and his breath gets caught in a gasp.

There are splashes of water on the keys. He hadn’t realized he’d started crying.

It takes a while for Tony to collect himself. His knees feel weak as he stands up from the bench, but he keeps his head held high as he walks out the door and into the hallway. Just like his mother would have done.

Taking one last look at the mansion before getting in his car, Tony realizes that he’s not ready to let go of this place yet, not when it’s filled with some of the best memories he has of his mother. But he also knows that the house can’t stay empty any longer. It doesn’t feel right, and his mother wouldn’t have wanted it to go to waste like this. The house needs some upgrades. A bit of renovation, new furniture. A new life.

The September Foundation is looking for a home. He’ll start from there.

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also on ao3

[everythingisgayandnothinghurts]

Hands to Heal

This was written for the random words random characters challenge for Marvel writing challenge!! This was fun to write yet heartbreaking. Hope you like it.

My character was Bruce Banner and my words were intelligent evening and long

As the years went by it was more and more common for Bruce not to have a full eight hours of sleep.  Hell, he was lucky if he got six on a regular basis. The world seemed to be ending more and more often,  which caused more missions to come up. Even though he bowed out of missions whenever he could due to his green tendencies normally causing more harm than good, he was called upon to help with medical problems here and there.  When the call came through from Steve at four in the morning he was only a bit surprised since four of them had left around nine. Steve, Bucky, Tony, and Natasha had dealt with what had seemed to be a small alien nest in the middle of Kansas. He rolled out of bed and went about prepping the med bay since Steve had said it was a case of major blood loss and that it would require some work.  

“They called finally?” Bruce glanced up at the young voice to see Peter lingering in the doorway. He should have known the youngest avenger wouldn't be sleeping until Tony was back safely.

“Should be back-” Bruce was forced to cut himself short when they heard the whir of the jet faintly above them.  “Now it would seem. “

“Who got hurt?” Peter asked anxiously with his mouth in a pinched thin line.  The worry was rolling off of him in waves, his hands twisting together as his brown eyes fixed to the door now instead.  

“They didn't tell me actually, “ Bruce frowned to himself,  annoyed he couldn't even get a blood transfusion ready without a name.  Steve had made the situation sound quite dire, and yet had left out a very important detail.  Peter suddenly stiffened and Bruce only wondered why for a moment before the shrieking reached his ears as well. The voice sounded much younger than anyone that had gone out on the mission last night and full of the kind of agony you would never want to imagine.  

“What the ever loving-” He was cut short again by the door nearly hitting Peter in the face as Tony slammed it open and held it for Steve bringing in a young girl with brown locks spilling over his arm.  Bucky brought up the rear and Bruce felt a slight stab of worry over the whereabouts of his favorite redhead. They may no longer have any romantic interest, but she was still one of his favorite people on the planet easily.  “Who the hell is this?”

“Civilian, “ Steve said shortly as he laid the young girl down on the bed.  Blood soaked the sheet quickly but the source wasn't immediately apparent.

“You're letting civilians into the Avengers compound now?” Bruce directed toward Tony, surprised his arms weren't full of a worried kid yet.  Peter was busy getting towels and O Negative blood ready for him as a matter of fact. He had adopted the method of keeping himself busy to deal with the stress of these kinds of things.

“It's funny you think Cap really gives us choices. “ Tony said dryly, leaning against the far wall with his eyes fixed on their guest. “He had her on the jet before I even had a chance to tell him he was-”

“Can we just save someone?” Steve's voice was much sharper than usual and Bruce nearly flinched at the unexpectedly harsh tone.  He had gotten the blankets off of her as well as the clothes and nearly lost his stomach at the sight. The blood was coming from her gaping abdomen with the organs just about spilling out of her.  Burns covered what skin he could see and they were oozing and appeared to be nearly third degree. Peter appeared at his shoulder and he couldn't contain his gasp at all. Tony moved to pull him to the side and presumably into his arms, but Bruce laid a hand on Peters shoulder first.

“Since you gave me nothing to work off of in the middle of the night I'm going to need his help if I have any hope to save her.  Peter has learned a lot. “ Peter had expressed interest in the medical world as a surprise to them all and Bruce had a feeling he would end up making some brilliant devices for the medical world down the line.  

“Peter isn't even qualified in any way to actually help her, “ Steve still had that harsh tone to his voice that made it nearly unrecognizable. He had been off lately with the increase in missions and the strain was getting to the captain.  

“Let them work Steve, “ Bucky's voice was still soft as he none too gently pulled Steve away from beside the table.

“You have to save her Banner.  I watched her parents die and she can't…  not like this. “ Steve glanced at them all one last time before he was dragged away to change out of the uniform covered in dried blood.  

The shock was keeping this young woman awake and her wide green eyes stared at him in pain and fear.  

“Darling what's your name?” Bruce asked gently as he got the supplies for an IV ready to hopefully get her knocked out before the pain could kick in any more.  She was panting heavily to keep from screaming and tears rolled down her pale cheeks.

“Am I going to die?” She asked with her voice shaking and the words barely intelligible. “Where are my parents? Where am I?” She was shaking like a leaf and Peter was staring at her in horror.

“Just tell me your name, “ Bruce coaxed gently to keep her gaze on him.

“E-Evelyn, “ She said shakily and he slipped the needle into her vein without the girl noticing considering her other injuries.

“Evelyn, you are going to be just fine. “ Bruce could only pray he was actually telling something close to the truth. “I'm going to give you something to help you sleep and when you wake up we will have you feeling so much better, okay?”

“Mommy and Daddy?” Her voice got younger in that moment if that was possible.  She was likely not yet a teenager but in that moment she could have been younger than eight easily.

“It's going to be alright, “ Bruce told her softly once again.  He swallowed thickly and had to put aside her wide eyes and get to work as quickly as he could as she finally went to sleep.

“I can start dressing the burns, “ Peter got into quick and careful action to peel off what charred  flesh he could as Bruce tried to cauterize the wound and wonder how he would even patch this up enough until Helen and her team could get here to do the proper work.  This girl had no real chance… and he would have to watch her die under his hand.

Peter still hadn't gotten used to the smell of burning flesh, but he was doing much better than last time and kept his focus on his task.  Bruce was busy searching for any damage to the organs he could repair so he could pack and wrap the abdomen as quickly as possible. His gloves were quickly soaked in blood and the squish as he worked made his eyes burn. This girl wasn't even Peters age yet and Bruce's heart broke often enough working on him from time to time. At least Peter had Tony to hold him through it, but if this girl ever woke she would be completely alone in the world like so many of them had been before finding one another.  He had to wonder if it would have been kinder to let her go with her family. If she was this damaged then he could assume she was probably one of the only survivors from her city.

No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than the monitor flat lined almost the minute he had gotten her bleeding under control and the wound packed. He was no true professional but he had always hoped he had learned enough to make a difference in situations like this.  

He wasted no time in starting CPR, praying for this young girl not to die under his very hands.  Peter looked lost as his hands hovered over her body and his large brown eyes fixed to the monitor holding her vitals.  He didn't want Peter to watch someone die, but he couldn't even find enough breath to tell the young man to leave. Her body jostled as he tried to get her heart to start working on its own once again. The moments seemed to stretch on forever as he kept praying and hoping in a way he hadn't for ages.  

He was barely aware of gentle hands taking him by the shoulder until he was forced off her small body and could only stare at her pale skin and the wave of her hair as it trained nearly to the floor. Peter was crying across from him and holding her pale and lifeless hand.

“it's over Bruce, “ Tony said to him softly, still gripping his shoulders and he could swear it was the only way he was still standing.  His knees felt weak and he fought weakly to do something, anything, to let this not be the end. They had all lost enough over time and he had always wanted to have hands that healed rather than harm.  He had warred with himself enough over the green other half he had almost no control over and the medical training had been all that had helped him. The thought that he could help someone else even when the same hands could tear a human apart effortlessly if the Hulk chose to do so.  “You did all you could Bruce. Steve was an idiot to bring her back. “

“She was just a girl, “ Bruce whispered as he let himself be guided to a chair and fought the burning behind his eyes. The feeling of worthlessness washed over him like it hadn't in years now.  She had barely been under his care for an hour and she was gone. Tony was now holding Peter close and whispering to him softly as the boy openly cried. He shouldn't have seen any of this and once again he was too useless to stop that from happening as well.  

He felt completely numb by the time Tony returned except for the way his heart ached horribly in his chest.  He kept hearing her young voice screaming, pleading, and terrified. He could only picture the screams of people the Avengers once again failed to save. The destruction and horror witnessed before their lives were taken from them forever.  Having a dark side wasn't a new thing for him, but having it so visible to everyone else was.

Tony's footfalls were soft and even now as he quietly came across the room.  Evelyn's corpse was still in the room with them since Bruce hadn't had the strength to get a body bag out yet.  Helen's team would be here within the hour probably on a useless call and maybe she could do it this time since he just couldn't.

Bruce, please don't do this, “ Tony begged softly as he crouched in front of him.  His brown eyes were darker than Peter's, but just as kind at the moment. “You don't have to feel responsible for this.  Steve had some guilt complex and he never should have out saving her on you. He's frustrated that lately our missions have cost so many lives of innocents.  It doesn't give him any kind of right, but I can at least kind of forgive him this one.”

“I told her it would be alright, and I couldn't even keep her alive through the night. I was so useless and helpless to save her. She was just laying there bleeding faster than I could stop it. “ Bruce's voice was hoarse with unshed tears.

“You are so far from useless or hopeless my friend. “ Tony said quietly.  “Peter and myself both owe our lives to you several times over by now. My life in more ways than medically.  Steve knew she was a lost cause when we got here. He sent you on a fools errand and I'm sorry.”

“Steve wasn't the only one who wanted to see some good for a change, “ Bruce felt tears slip down his cheeks and that was the cue for Tony to sit next to him and pull him close as well.  He must have been tired from staying awake all night for that journey halfway across the country but his hands were firm as he held him close. He clutched on to his best friends arm tightly and tried to remember more good than bad that his hands had done.

[sciencelings-writes]

Mama (Just Killed a Man)

Prompt 1- Natasha Romanoff: thoughtful. ride. Powerful.

My entry for the Marvel Writing Chalange!

Mama (Just killed a man)

The first time Natalia had killed someone was in the red room. She had been taught to detach herself from everything. They would never humanize their targets. They would be called ‘it’ and other dehumanizing things. Targets didn’t have feelings, lives, souls… They were just targets and nothing more.

Natalia felt nothing when she killed the target. It was many years later when she figured out who it had been. It had been an american man that had been abducted from a neighbouring country. He had a family… he was only missing as they never found his body.

It was too long ago for Natalia to find it in herself to care. She had killed enough with no thought that none of it ever mattered. It had been ingrained in her head that life meant nothing. So taking life meant nothing to her.

There were countless missions where her bullets ended lives and she didn’t bat an eye. So far, being emotionless had only helped her. It was necessary when she was conditioned to be a professional murderer. The smell of gunpowder and blood was something she was very well acquainted with. The smell became comforting in its recurrence.

Natalia had literally killed hundreds before she was confronted with her actions. She was on the radar of an american secret intelligence agency called ‘SHIELD.’ At first she thought that it wouldn’t be a problem. Americans weren’t as serious as the KGB. They didn’t raise their agents from birth like the Russians did.

She thought they wouldn’t be an issue.

The agent that went after her was an issue. He was odd, he used a bow and arrows rather than a gun and was almost effective. More effective than anyone else had ever been. He was well trained and he had even managed to restrain her. Of course, that was after a car chase in Moscow and several injuries to them both.

She was extremely surprised by the call he made. He was sent to kill her. She was a danger to people around her. But, he didn’t. Instead he gave her a chance. He opened her eyes. He had managed to start to decode the wiring in her head that had been implanted in her since before she could remember.

She was also pretty surprised by the call she made. She accepted his offer to join their organization and she figured out pretty quickly how much she was being manipulated. She had believed that she had been in control but she had been a puppet the whole time.

It was jarring. But she didn’t let it show. Somehow, someone figured out that she had acquired a feeling. The agent that had decided not to kill her, Agent Clint Barton, had figured out that something was wrong.

It was funny that the first person she had opened up to in her life would be a man that had been sent to kill her. Clint had no reason to be nice or trust her, she was an international assassin that had killed a whole lot of people but he acted like she was… well, human. It was something she had never felt before. She liked it.

After the shock, she felt crushing guilt. This was when she researched thoughtfully everyone she had been sent to kill. Every single one. It wasn’t exactly a quick trip. She found her own file and looked at everything they had on her. She had been labeled as a stone cold killer, priority level alpha.

This was when Natalia decided to change. She legally changed her identity to Natasha Romanoff to symbolically leave her old life behind. It was a powerful moment for her. She never thought that she was capable of change. After being the same thing fulfilling the same purpose for so long, it felt odd to be something else. Her new life was not completely dissimilar to her old one, she killed less, spied more, got close to more people, but she was finally in control.

She was listening to Clint excitedly talking to her about one of his scars that he had acquired over the years. They were between long missions and enjoying each other’s company for the short time that they could, discussing silly names that they could use as a cover. Clint had come up with one involving so many names for male genitalia that Natasha couldn’t help but softly chuckle at his enthusiasm.

They had been mostly separated on missions, save the first few where Clint was only sent to keep an eye on her and make sure she wasn’t a double agent. She had proved her allegiance when she took a bullet for the guy during her first mission for SHIELD. This would change though.

They both got a text simultaneously, on the highest tech available, a blackberry. The text was encoded but didn’t take long for either of them to figure out.

‘u redy 4 a team mssn?!’

“We really shouldn’t have let Fury have a phone…” Clint muttered.

“Whatever partner. I think we had too much free time anyway.”

“He only has one eye! That’s why he types like shit!” He proclaimed.

“He can shoot as good as anyone else with a single eye and you think he can’t see a tiny phone screen?”

“I thought it was more of an intimidation thing. The bullets are too afraid of him to miss their targets.”

“And your aim is based on how well your arrows are groomed? Come on Clint, you take care of your arrows more than you take care of yourself. You have a brush specifically for their feathers and you don’t even own a comb for yourself.” Natasha said as she stood up from her seat.

“And I’ve never missed a target.” Natasha almost flinched at the word. It was different when the word was referring to her.

“You missed me.” She shrugged.

“I wasn’t aiming for you.” Clint said simply. “So, what do you think Fury has planned for us?”

“I bet he’s going to put us in language training instead of actually getting us to go on a mission. That’s fine, I need to work on my arabic anyway.” She shrugged as she helped him up.

“I need a nap. I’ve been in Australia for way too fucking long…” He yawned and stumbled a bit when she pulled him up.

“You always need a nap. Come on, we have work to do.”

“You’re buying my coffee.”

“We have employee perks Hawkass. Infinite free coffee. It’s not even that bad.”

“We have that?” Clint gasped.

“Yeah, hurry up.”

It turned out that Fury just wanted to very seriously show them a movie that had a guy that looked a lot like him but with two eyes.

Natasha had been thrown into the wild ride from since she had been conscious. She dreaded the day her life would be truly boring.

Eventually she would pray for boring.