fic - kill it with fire; avengers
Fandom: The Avengers/MCU
Title: Kill It With Fire
Chapter: N/A, complete oneshot
Characters/Pairings: ensemble + Jane/mild, unimpressive Thor/Jane
Genre: Crack, Confusion
Rating: T/PG
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I probably don't own it.
Prompt: The Avengers, ensemble, Thor discovers the horror that is the Furby from a comment here by magisterequitum.
Notes: I don't even know, guys. I don't even know. I swear I'm still working on important stuff
“Let’s play hide and seek.”
Thor jolts from sleep, but Jane sleeps on beside him with naught more than a snort and a wiggle. A long moment passes in silence and he is ready to settle back into slumber when the words come again: “I’m coming!”
He flings his arm out to summon Mjölnir. The war hammer jerks into his grip, heavy and familiar and as loved as anything he has left. Deciding not to wake Jane is easy; while handy in many situations, she does not tend to handle direct combat well.
“I can see you!”
A giggle.
“You’re not very good at hiding. I’m coming for you!”
Thor has by now pinpointed the source of the noise and, at the threat, hurls Mjölnir. The hammer smashes through the tall piece of furniture where Jane had stored the clothes provided for him and into the common room on the other side of the wall. Light pours through the new entry, illuminating Natasha, who is holding a piece of popcorn to her mouth.
A second later, after Thor has summoned his hammer once more, Clint pokes his head up from the sofa.
“The hell?” he mutters, glancing discreetly at his partner to make sure she’s alright. His attention flicks back to the dust still settling around the Asgardian, missing the redhead’s dirty glare.
Jane materializes at his shoulder, but Thor is still on guard.
“Honey, what-?” she starts, but he motions at her to be silent. The threat could still be viable, after all, though that idea is laughable. Very little has been able to survive Mjölnir thus far.
But he can still hear muffled words coming, in that same voice. His eyes narrow and he barely registers that Bruce Banner has appeared from the opposite hallway, hair messy and eyes sleepy. Thor moves forward to kick some of the debris out of the way, and the thing speaks again.
“I hope you hid well!”
“Wait!” Jane cries as he lifts the hammer again. “It’s just Mick!”
“What?” he says, confused. His weapon is still half-raised.
“My-” Jane makes a frustrated noise, waving her hands in mad circles. Then she moves forward, into the pile of what had just been a wall and furniture. She pokes around in the rubble for a moment before pulling something out with a flourish.
“Mick,” she says, presenting the thing to Thor.
Natasha barely smothers a snort but Clint doesn’t even bother trying to hide outright laughter. Banner walks away, mumbling under his breath, but Tony, who has snuck in unseen, says loudly, “A Furby?”
The thing is small, oddly shaped, and covered with some kind of fake fur. It has enormous plastic eyes and a hideous plastic beak, and overall, Thor thinks it is heinously ugly. He is in love with it immediately.
Then it speaks.
“I found you! Let’s play again.”
He takes it gingerly from Jane’s hands, entranced.
“Are you not offended, Mick?” he asks it. “I attacked you without provocation-”
“It’s a toy,” Natasha tells him. She’s made her way to the couch, and Clint, who is busy stealing her popcorn. She swats his hand out of the bowl.
“It’s ingenious-” he begins, ready to proclaim the marvels of Mick for all to hear. It’s a talking toy.
“Come back to bed, Thor,” Jane urges, taking his hand. Mick gets dropped on the way to their room.
“You’re paying for the damage, Thunder Thighs,” Tony calls after them.
--
The next morning, Steve, rubbing his eyes sleepily, sees the damage when he comes in for breakfast. Random wreckage, he can understand-a world-class spy; an indestructible alien with an even more indestructible war hammer and a protective streak bigger than his biceps when it came to his girlfriend; a semi-hedonistic, mostly settled-down multi-billionaire; a giant green rage monster wearing an eccentric scientist; and Clint co-existing under one roof tends to accrue a lot of damage to almost everything else under that roof.
A shrill voice demanding he play, however, is something for which he is completely unprepared, and he wishes he had his shield so he can defend himself.
--
also here
Title: Kill It With Fire
Chapter: N/A, complete oneshot
Characters/Pairings: ensemble + Jane/mild, unimpressive Thor/Jane
Genre: Crack, Confusion
Rating: T/PG
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I probably don't own it.
Prompt: The Avengers, ensemble, Thor discovers the horror that is the Furby from a comment here by magisterequitum.
Notes: I don't even know, guys. I don't even know. I swear I'm still working on important stuff
“Let’s play hide and seek.”
Thor jolts from sleep, but Jane sleeps on beside him with naught more than a snort and a wiggle. A long moment passes in silence and he is ready to settle back into slumber when the words come again: “I’m coming!”
He flings his arm out to summon Mjölnir. The war hammer jerks into his grip, heavy and familiar and as loved as anything he has left. Deciding not to wake Jane is easy; while handy in many situations, she does not tend to handle direct combat well.
“I can see you!”
A giggle.
“You’re not very good at hiding. I’m coming for you!”
Thor has by now pinpointed the source of the noise and, at the threat, hurls Mjölnir. The hammer smashes through the tall piece of furniture where Jane had stored the clothes provided for him and into the common room on the other side of the wall. Light pours through the new entry, illuminating Natasha, who is holding a piece of popcorn to her mouth.
A second later, after Thor has summoned his hammer once more, Clint pokes his head up from the sofa.
“The hell?” he mutters, glancing discreetly at his partner to make sure she’s alright. His attention flicks back to the dust still settling around the Asgardian, missing the redhead’s dirty glare.
Jane materializes at his shoulder, but Thor is still on guard.
“Honey, what-?” she starts, but he motions at her to be silent. The threat could still be viable, after all, though that idea is laughable. Very little has been able to survive Mjölnir thus far.
But he can still hear muffled words coming, in that same voice. His eyes narrow and he barely registers that Bruce Banner has appeared from the opposite hallway, hair messy and eyes sleepy. Thor moves forward to kick some of the debris out of the way, and the thing speaks again.
“I hope you hid well!”
“Wait!” Jane cries as he lifts the hammer again. “It’s just Mick!”
“What?” he says, confused. His weapon is still half-raised.
“My-” Jane makes a frustrated noise, waving her hands in mad circles. Then she moves forward, into the pile of what had just been a wall and furniture. She pokes around in the rubble for a moment before pulling something out with a flourish.
“Mick,” she says, presenting the thing to Thor.
Natasha barely smothers a snort but Clint doesn’t even bother trying to hide outright laughter. Banner walks away, mumbling under his breath, but Tony, who has snuck in unseen, says loudly, “A Furby?”
The thing is small, oddly shaped, and covered with some kind of fake fur. It has enormous plastic eyes and a hideous plastic beak, and overall, Thor thinks it is heinously ugly. He is in love with it immediately.
Then it speaks.
“I found you! Let’s play again.”
He takes it gingerly from Jane’s hands, entranced.
“Are you not offended, Mick?” he asks it. “I attacked you without provocation-”
“It’s a toy,” Natasha tells him. She’s made her way to the couch, and Clint, who is busy stealing her popcorn. She swats his hand out of the bowl.
“It’s ingenious-” he begins, ready to proclaim the marvels of Mick for all to hear. It’s a talking toy.
“Come back to bed, Thor,” Jane urges, taking his hand. Mick gets dropped on the way to their room.
“You’re paying for the damage, Thunder Thighs,” Tony calls after them.
--
The next morning, Steve, rubbing his eyes sleepily, sees the damage when he comes in for breakfast. Random wreckage, he can understand-a world-class spy; an indestructible alien with an even more indestructible war hammer and a protective streak bigger than his biceps when it came to his girlfriend; a semi-hedonistic, mostly settled-down multi-billionaire; a giant green rage monster wearing an eccentric scientist; and Clint co-existing under one roof tends to accrue a lot of damage to almost everything else under that roof.
A shrill voice demanding he play, however, is something for which he is completely unprepared, and he wishes he had his shield so he can defend himself.
--
also here