Avengers fic: Fanmail
Title: Fan Mail
Characters/Pairing: Avengers
Rating: G
Word Count: 1940
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, though I'd love a Tony!
Warnings: None
Summary: The Avengers all receive fan mail.
Please check out my friend's awesome companion piece here: http://ncc1701a.livejournal.com/24042.html
Fury
The Avengers received a phone call one afternoon as they were watching television. Nick Fury. They looked at each other as Steve answered the phone, expecting a new mission of utmost importance which required their collective skills at ass-kicking. So, when Steve's eyebrows raised in surprise, they instantly wanted to know what was going on. Steve put Fury on the speaker phone, to get him to reiterate.
“We need you to come to HQ, we've got some packages for you.”
“Can't you just call them cool new gadgets like they usually are?” Clint asked in response.
“Because they aren't. Just get over here and pick them up.”
“Ahh, I see you've finally reached the conclusion that mine are better and you should just stop trying,” Tony announced with a smile.
The phone disconnected.
The team all looked at each other for a moment before all running towards the door.
Everyone sat around the table in the control room of the Helicarrier, excited to find out what was going on. Fury walked out, followed by a number of agents, each carrying at least one sack, full of... something. As Fury reached the head of the table, each agent deposited between one to three of these sacks in front of and around each of the Avengers.
“These,” Fury said, “are each full of letters for you.”
The Avengers all looked at him for a moment in disbelief.
“...So we have fanmail?” Bruce asked, his tone giving away the fact he clearly had not taken in what Fury had said.
“Yes. Lots of it. So, we've decided to give it to you so we don't have it taking up space anymore.”
Thor looked around in confusion.
“Friends, what is this fanmail you speak of?”
Natasha answered his question, “Basically, people write to you to tell you how much they like you, and stuff like that.”
“Ahh, I see! People who wish to inform you of their adoration of your acheivements!”
“Yeah, along those lines,” she replied.
Tony piped up, “We have fanmail. This is so cool.”
Bruce
Bruce thought the mail was flattering, though he didn't like how 85% of it was labelled to “The Hulk.” Oh well, fans are fans, I guess. Most of it seemed to come from little kids who thought the Hulk was really cool, and how being big and green and smashy was totally awesome! There were a few from some older fans, one of whom touched him with the line, “I can identify with you, I think. I feel like there's a big green rage monster trying to burst it's way out of me as well sometimes.” Luckily, Bruce thought, his didn't actually become one literally.
At least receiving fanmail meant there were people out there who not only were not scared of him, but wanted to actually correspond with him. He made sure that he replied to as many as he could, making sure he didn't lose the feeling that people appreciated him.
By far his favourite was the letter from a woman who thought he was quite the handsome scientist.
Clint
Clint couldn't decide whether he was offended or not by most of his letters. Most of them revolved around some form of back handed compliment or criticism. A lot talked about how they thought archery was 'totally gay' until he came on the scene, and that they're 'totally gonna buy a bow now'. There were some great letters from archers who had always been teased, but now had some form of validation in terms of 'Yeah, well one of the Avengers is an archer and they're awesome!” Then came some of the more pretentious letters from classically trained archers, who still use longbows. Apparently he wasn't a real archer, because if he was any good he wouldn't be using that fancy bow or special technological arrows.
Clint smiled. He was an Avenger. They weren't.
Steve
Steve was finding it difficult, flitting between sorrowful remembrance and happy. With some creeped out coming in as well. A good number of his letters were from old servicemen and veterans, many of whom fought in the Second World War knowing Captain America was on their side. They were truly touching, though it was strange for Steve to think that these letters from people now in their eighties and their nineties were describing events that to him happened less than a year ago. These men were his age when they were experiencing what they were writing about, yet now they were great-grandparents. It was inspiring to read some messages from current soldiers, men who had heard stories of him since they were a child and who now had a chance to see their hero in action.
There were a number of letters from children who wanted to be just like him and do good and kill baddies when they grew up, and a number of teens who had heard all of his messages about volunteering and helping those less fortunate who had found a new direction in life. It was nice to know that he could still make a difference seventy years in the future, when he felt he may have been obsolete or unneeded. It had in fact been one of his greatest fears once the truth of his position had become clear.
He chose to ignore the messages about how his chest looked so 'firm' and how his ass was 'delicious' in his uniform.
Thor
Thor sat on the bed in his room, letters and packages spread all over the floor. He'd emptied the sacks onto the ground as soon as he got into his own space, and it looked like half a forest had been felled. He was surrounded by opened letters, piled as neatly as possible on one of his tables, the ripped envelopes strewn across the bed behind him. He thought he was getting the point of this fan mail thing, on Asgard it was easy to travel to see warriors of whom you had heard stories to feast with them. On Midgard, people were limited by many things and so could not talk to you of your victories face to face.
Many of his letters were interested in his prowess in battle, with questions about Mjolnir, his armour and what Asgard was like. A few came from people who still subscribed to the Viking religions. A number came from women who wished to know him in a more intimate manner, however Thor was betrothed to Jane and so out of respect for his lady he made sure to remove those letters from the ones he wished to keep.
Any drawings or picture we was sent were instantly pinned to his wall, and soon you could hardly see the décor of the room any more. He made sure that he replied to each letter, even if it was just a short paragraph thanking them for their praise, and answering their questions. He especially took time and care to answer any letters from children, who made him feel like a real hero when they told him how they inspired him.
Natasha
Natasha had been expecting it. Most of her letters were creepy. Not just creepy, but skin-crawlingly creepy. Details of what men would love to do to her. Threats of violence. Insinuations about her sexual orientation or how she would behave in the bedroom. Some of the messages included pictures, not exactly pleasant either. Most of them got binned straight away. She took any details she could from the threatening letters and either wrote them down for SHIELD to deal with later. Yes, she could deal with them by herself, but she thought it would be much more satisfying if SHIELD had their own little ideas put into practice. She could deal with what the internet said to her, but when it got to the point where they were actively finding addresses to send things to, she wasn't going to just sit back and ignore it.
The messages she enjoyed reading were mostly from women. She always found it affirming when she got messages from other women and girls, telling her how much she inspired them, and how she motivated them to keep going when other people wanted to hold them back. She chose one from a teenaged girl to tack to her wall. “It's an inspiration to have such a strong woman to be able to look up to, and I hope to follow in your footsteps and become all I can be.”
She made sure she replied to those letters.
Tony
Tony sat in his workshop going through the piles of letters and packages. He was wallowing in the attention, unbelievably excited to be reading fan mail, especially after the large amounts he had sent to various childhood heroes. Thank god none of the others had found those files! He'd received a few letters here and there, but nothing like this.
He had all kinds of messages. Questions on how to make an iron man suit, questions about his favourite suit, how he came up with the idea, why did he choose red and gold... They wanted to know everything! Who, what, where, when, why and how.
There were a few invitations to parties, weddings, that kind of thing. None of which really caught his eye, he was a busy man. He had evil guys to kill, after all.
One letter caught his attention, written by a nine year old kid and his dad.
“Hello Mr Stark, I don't know if you remember this, but you saved my son during the attack at the Stark Expo. He was wearing an Iron Man mask and repulsers and one of those unmanned things was going to shoot him, but you came in and dealt with it. He's hardly stopped speaking about you since, you're his hero. He's sent you a painting of you in your suit with him. I hope you like it.”
The writing clearly changed to the boy's at this point, “Thank you for rescuing me Iron Man! You are really cool, I want to be an Iron Man when I grow up because I want to save people like you do! I hope you like my drawing, I labelled it so you would know which one you are and I am!”
Tony lifted the letter to reveal the drawing. Not bad for a nine year old! He smiled as his eyes watered. “JARVIS, scan this and set it as my desktop background please.”
“Yes, Mr Stark.”
He turned back to the letter, “You are the coolest person in the whole world and one day I am going to work for you making cool stuff like suits and flying cars! You are the best! Joey.”
Tony sat for a moment, rereading the letter. He remembered that kid. He remembered that whole night so vividly. The kid, faced with what was essentially a big monster, stood his ground. He was going to go far, Tony thought. Maybe he'd invite him over for a tour of the tower.
He got out a pen and paper, and absent mindedly swiped the rather large pile of panties off of the side of the desk and into the bin. Fans. As he started to write, Pepper appeared through the door of his workshop. He looked over to her, “Oh hey Pepper. Do you know if we have any spare Iron Man merchandise I can send this kid?” She smiled. Proof Tony Stark has a heart.