well hello to you again, beautiful.

mmh…

Funeral for a Friend

dailybugleparker:

agent19:

the-other-eight:

iron-liver:

ms-marvelous:

starsandshields:

flameonhumantorch:

mariahillshield:

As Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., it was mandatory for Maria Hill to show her face at Clint Barton’s funeral. She’d had to attend far too many in her lifetime, in her career, and she was sure that she’d be attending many more. She listened as Steve spoke, her heart going out to him as the tears rolled down his face. She knew he didn’t like to show too much emotion in the public eye, but Barton was a close friend and a coworker so Maria understood the overflow of compassion in his words.

Cocking her head slightly to the left of her, she surveyed Natasha Romanov, more commonly known as the Black Widow. The name held a portion of irony at such a time as her and Barton had been long time lovers. They were in love, whether they openly admitted it or not. Natasha herself had confessed it to Maria, but it was too late… Barton had already been gone. Maria didn’t doubt for a minute that the feeling was shared. Clint had many lovers, but none could take away from the way he felt for Natasha; it was fairly obvious.

Romanov’s face adorned a look of sadness, but also of great strength. Maria could almost hear the woman internally berating herself not to cry. And they both knew that she wouldn’t. She’d never allow herself to look so weak. Not in front of a crowd, and not even to herself. It was just the way she was programmed.

Maria faced forward again, stepping just an inch closer to her S.H.I.E.L.D. colleague, their shoulders bumping. Natasha looked up as if broken from a reverie and flashed a tight smile. Maria simply nodded in response and looked ahead as Steve wrapped up. She hoped to move past this day, this week, this tragedy and make things right. As right as they could be made, that is.

She hadn’t a clue how they would ever recover from such a loss. Clint Barton; a great man, friend, and agent. He never missed. Which would explain how he touched each and every one of their hearts.

Rest in Peace, Barton.

Tony didn’t dare to look at anyone as they lowered the Coffin into the ground.  The others milled about for a while afterward and discussed good times and bad with the Archer while he was still on this plane of existence.  He slowly made his way forward, dropping Pepper’s hand as he walked up to the edge of the cratered earth that would be Clint’s final resting place.  His fault. His fault that this had even had to happen.  He stared down into the dark where the oak coffin contained his colleague, his friend… and there were so many thoughts racing through his head he could barely contain himself. 

“Hey.. man.. remember all those times you threatened to kill me? God only knew how I’d be turning this around.. Hah.. Like that time you shot and the bullet barely missed my head.. I thought you were gonna kill me then.. But I guess it’d have been for the better if you did.. I.. Damnit, Clint, why didn’t you run?  You’re good at that… avoiding it. I’m — I’m sorry for calling you a squishy human.. You really were more than that.. You didn’t need my help.. ” He sank slowly to a crouch next to the grave and dug his fingers into the dirt, grabbing up a handful and letting it scatter into the hole as the gravediggers glared at him.  The service was done and he should have just left like everyone else was doing.  Tears were coming now, and his breath hitched. 

“I guess I really am an idiot..” he choked, and smiled. “You had that one right, man..” He trailed off as he felt Pepper’s hand on his shoulder, and he stood up, with a breath through his nose that shook his shoulders.  He turned and slid an arm around Pepper’s waist and allowed her to lead him from the grave site as the grave diggers begun their work.

This Mockingbird Don't Sing: Funeral For A Friend

the-other-eight:

dailybugleparker:

The New York skyline was blanketed with deep grey clouds. It seemed too perfect that they would fall on the day in which the Avengers had to say their final goodbyes to their fallen comrade. Atop a small hill within Cypress Hills National Cemetery, a flag draped coffin lay…

Pepper slipped silently into place beside Tony as Bobbi finished her succinct eulogy.  Sitting amidst the intimate group of the deceased Agent’s teammates, the svelte woman felt more than a bit out of place.  However, she maintained such a meticulously graceful posture that her unease was barely visible.  Truth be told, her exterior visage during the funeral would most likely later lead Tony’s partners in crime to wonder whether or not she had actually known the deceased man at all, mistaking her poise for insincerity.

She glanced at the grim and gaunt faces of the men and women whose eyes were glued to the understated yet tasteful casket, carefully avoiding Tony’s gaze.  Although this was a part of Tony’s life in which she had not yet been able to totally immerse herself, but she had been somewhat acquainted with Clint Barton.  Thus in the short moment when her eyes met Rhodey’s in the crowd, the sudden rush of familiarity coupled with the plain grief resplendent upon his face almost overwhelmed her.  The sorrow visible only in her eyes was completely honest as she bowed her head slightly in recognition of her friend’s pain before finally resting her gaze upon the solemn casket.

Pepper never wondered for a second whether she should or should not say anything to Tony; she knew that her silent camaraderie would speak more than her words ever could.  She simply sat in silence, grieving imperceptibly for the injustice and untimeliness with which an acquaintance’s life had been taken.

Tony was there. That was the most he could say, he wasn’t giving the eulogy himself because he didn’t feel like it was his place. He was the reason the rest of the team was grieving, after all.  He had been so foolish.   The if’s started taking over, filling his mind with what could’ve happened had he tweaked the situation any one bit. His head fell downward after Peter’s speech, his name dropped in it made a pang of guilt flush inside his chest, and it only intensified as Peter’s eyes grazed him.  He could feel the weight on him, whether it psychosomatic or not. 

His mind started to lurch, and he felt sick again. Realization sinking in once more that all these people were gathered to mourn someone he had killed. He murdered Clint Barton, be it by accident or not, it was his technology that had ended his life.  The urge to turn and flee was almost irresistible, and as he turned his head to begin his walk of shame from the ceremony, there was Pepper.

She always knew just when he needed her, and he offered her a low smile, lacing his fingers with hers and staying his ground, turning back to look at the ceremony itself. 

Tony stalked into the War Room in Avengers Tower with his arm full of paperwork, hastily shoved into a manilla folder. He wanted to be sure everyone had arrived and dealt with smalltalk before he got in, he was in no mood for interruption.

“Gentlemen. Ladies. I’ve called you here to discuss the course of action we will be taking.” He made his way around the long table in the center of the room to the head of it, nodding to those gathered inside. He nodded to Carol at the end of the table and slid his file of paperwork onto the table before him.

“Loki, Self-proclaimed god of Mischief and other worldly entity has … ” He struggled with the words, his grip on the back of his leather chair tightening slightly. “arranged things in a way that we’ve lost one of our own. This must not be allowed to be accepted.” He stared down for a moment, losing his voice and his train of thought.  He stifled his emotions and mentally slammed the cork back into that bottle. He needed to be strong for just a little while, and he needed to lead.

“My dad, always said,” he paused, shaking his head and clicking his teeth, deep in concentration as he leaned forward on the chair. “And probably most of your dads, the best defense is a good offense. I’ve been working with a few teams on trying to find the location of this… fugitive, and so far have come up with nothing. We’re likely going to have to either wait for him to show his slimy head again or we’re going to have to bait him out.” He paused,  scanning the room. 

“I know— I know that this is probably the last thing most of you want to hear, and god help me, no one wants to try to find this son of a bitch more than me, but, that’s not something we can really do at this moment.” He glanced over between Peter, Bobbi and Natasha with somewhat pleading eyes. He knew that they were probably hurting just as bad as he was in the scheme of things, but he needed their patience if his ideas were going to work.

“If anyone has any ideas, I’d like to hear them now.” He tapped the paperwork on the desk and slid around into the chair before the table. “This is for after the little brainstorming sesh.” He glanced over, noticing Johnny.

“Any ideas for us, Storm?”

xblackwidowx:

iron-liver:

xblackwidowx:

But you and Tony do seem to be really close

Right Tony, laugh. That much I laugh each time you two have those converstaions/discussions/fights.

I will laugh. That’s hilarious.

xblackwidowx:

But you and Tony do seem to be really close

russian-black-widow:

iron-liver:

russian-black-widow:

iron-liver started following you

Hey there Tasha.

You may call me Natasha, Mr. Stark.

How about Nat?

And come on, call me Tony.

(Source: theoffensiveginger)

take responsibility for every shot: the pornstache is gone!

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

((Oh god can you crop this convo? I would but I’m on my phone, its getting really fucking long.))

Ah.. well…

Hm.

Would it be okay if we both took a breath and I called you Tasha again?

(I’m on mine too but I hope I cropped it right) Sure you can take a breath and call me Tasha.

…you’re still mad at me though..

((Thank yooou, my phone can’t do it. And I hate to spam peoples dashs that bad.))

Mad? No. Irritated and baffled at why you’re such an ass? Yes.

….I’ll accept that.

What can I do to make it up to you?

You’re a big boy I’m sure you’ll think of something, even though you’ll probably screw it up.
I say that in the nicest way possible.

And you’re a beautiful woman who can snap me like a twig. I say that in the most fearful way possible.

Anything you want, its yours, help me out here.

Why are you so scared of me? I’m not going to hurt you unless that’s what you want.

Hopefully there’ll be a safeword involved.

But seriously…. uh.
I’m sorry.

So that is what you want? How fun.
It’s fine, no need to apologize. I’ve heard worse insults

Yeah, but I didnt mean it.

You know me.. my mouth starts running.

I know, that’s why nothing you say ever really means anything to me.

Oh.

I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t take your insults personally.

Oh well. Okay.

What’s wrong? It’s something I said isn’t it?

No, no its just me. Don’t worry your pretty ginger head.

(Source: arrowsftw)

take responsibility for every shot: the pornstache is gone!

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

noir-widow:

iron-liver:

((Oh god can you crop this convo? I would but I’m on my phone, its getting really fucking long.))

Ah.. well…

Hm.

Would it be okay if we both took a breath and I called you Tasha again?

(I’m on mine too but I hope I cropped it right) Sure you can take a breath and call me Tasha.

…you’re still mad at me though..

((Thank yooou, my phone can’t do it. And I hate to spam peoples dashs that bad.))

Mad? No. Irritated and baffled at why you’re such an ass? Yes.

….I’ll accept that.

What can I do to make it up to you?

You’re a big boy I’m sure you’ll think of something, even though you’ll probably screw it up.
I say that in the nicest way possible.

And you’re a beautiful woman who can snap me like a twig. I say that in the most fearful way possible.

Anything you want, its yours, help me out here.

Why are you so scared of me? I’m not going to hurt you unless that’s what you want.

Hopefully there’ll be a safeword involved.

But seriously…. uh.
I’m sorry.

So that is what you want? How fun.
It’s fine, no need to apologize. I’ve heard worse insults

Yeah, but I didnt mean it.

You know me.. my mouth starts running.

I know, that’s why nothing you say ever really means anything to me.

Oh.

I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t take your insults personally.

Oh well. Okay.

(Source: arrowsftw)