from bauble bc I like to steal things?
A writing meme:
Pick a trope from this list and provide a fandom/pairing and I'll tell you something about the story I'd write for that combination (i.e. write a snippet from the story or write not!fic or tell you the title and summary for the story I would write) Current fandoms: Primarily MCU/Avengers, but I want as many prompts as possible so ( Read more... )
Pick a trope from this list and provide a fandom/pairing and I'll tell you something about the story I'd write for that combination (i.e. write a snippet from the story or write not!fic or tell you the title and summary for the story I would write) Current fandoms: Primarily MCU/Avengers, but I want as many prompts as possible so ( Read more... )
Of course, Clint hasn't said much of anything since he got back from his last mission. She doesn't know what went on, and she won't ask until she feels like he wants her to, which she knows might never happen. There's a semi-lively bar scene, which they forgo in favor of turning in early and going out before the sun comes up to explore. The lines of strain in his forehead and around his mouth lighten by increments every hour they spend not talking, just feeling the dirt and dead leaves crunching under the soles of their boots, letting the scenery soak in.
Then Thor pounds a crater into the woods right in front of them.
"Godammit," Darcy says. Because Thor is one of her favorites, but Clint has gone stiff. Not like he's in shock, more like he's preparing himself to go back out there and he's not ready for that.
As Thor uncurls, she notices a bundle tucked inside one arm. "Please tell me that's not a bomb," she says.
"Lady Darcy, Clint Barton," Thor begins, before the bundle lets out an unmistakable wail.
So, not a bomb in the conventional sense, anyway.
"Are you sure this little guy is what you say he is?" Darcy asks. She tickles his soft, blue belly and he lets out a giggle, his feet waving in the air. "The giant part must come out later or something."
"On occasion there has been a child born who is different from the rest," Thor says, looking up at the sky. "I am told that my brother, he was thus."
"That's why Loki wants to kill him so bad," Clint says quietly.
Instead of confirming, Thor just looks even more unhappy, like the storm clouds behind his eyes have grown darker and started rumbling.
So this innocent kid made the mistake of embodying everything a deranged supervillain hates about himself. Darcy meets Clint's gaze. And wasn't that an awesomely unwelcome reminder of Clint's extra-special insight into Loki's dysfunctional brain.
Thor coughs. "I am asking a great deal," he says. "But I trust no one in this realm more than my shield brothers, and you."
"And me." Darcy preens a little before she realizes. "Wait."
"You will ensure his safety to the best of your ability?"
"Go," Clint says, waving him off. She just stares at him. "Doesn't take a genius to see the man's busy."
Thor nods at them, huffing and half-smiling his gratitude, and he calls his friend the key master to reopen the bridge.
Having hurriedly scooped the baby up to shield him from the sudden wind, Darcy loosens her hold a little to look at her new responsibility. "Aw, man," she says, running her finger along one chubby cheek. "He didn't tell us his name."
Clint's smile is weary and almost a tiny bit wicked. "Or how long this will take."
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