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***
Darcy had a new hobby — fan art. Specifically, Avengers fan art. Oh, she was not a creator of it, but she considered herself a connoisseur, and took on the self-assigned role of curator. She collected it, shared it, and enjoyed tormenting the others with it. Some of it was beautiful, of course, some of it was funny as hell, and some of it was a little horrifying, but she appreciated the spirit behind it all and the giddy fannish love from which it came.
Tony and Steve were the biggest fans, though she was pretty sure Steve wished Tony would stop sending him the ones where the two of them were doing naked things together. Thor accepted it easily enough, but then he was a prince who was entirely used to having portraits and statues of himself around, so his commentary was largely confined to remarks on artistic merit. Bruce just sighed, which was Bruce’s default reaction to pretty much everything. Clint was the easiest to torment, because he didn’t like being noticed by anybody and the fact that there were strangers actively looking for photos of him and drawing pictures of him and otherwise thinking about him made him twitchy as hell. And Natasha was just baffled by the whole thing.
"Look! Look!" Thor laughed, pulling a picture from a stack of art Darcy’d just brought back from a local con. "Look at tiny Loki! He is so small and so fierce."
Darcy looked up from the comic she was perusing and grinned over at Thor. The print was from a series of the Avengers as kids. Not entirely her style, but the Loki one was too cute to pass up because, even if he was an evil asshole, Thor still loved him and she knew it would make the big guy happy.
"The little snarl," she pointed out with a laugh of her own and Thor nodded his agreement.
"It is a fine representation of Loki as a child, though he did not wear the helm then." Thor smiled fondly at the picture. "May I have this one to hang upon my wall?"
"Of course, I bought it for you." Darcy smiled back and enjoyed, almost as much as Thor’s happiness, the thought of Jane’s reaction to the new addition to their decor.
"You have my thanks."
Tony, on her other side, was also digging through the pile of prints. “Where are the naked pictures of my Adonis-like physique?”
Darcy’s lips twisted in disgust and she made a gagging noise. “I am not buying naked pictures of my father. You want that, you go next time.” She reached into the pile, flipping through some of the prints until she found the one she’d bought for herself. “Here, this one is my favorite.” It was cartoon-Tony being chased by his robots.
"You had this commissioned, didn’t you?" He scowled at her.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," she told him with as innocent a smile as she could manage. She actually hadn’t, because the universe was kind and she hadn’t had to.
Tony and Steve were easily the most popular subjects, because they’d both been public figures forever, so there was a lot for people to work with. And Tony was insanely popular because he was Tony and even when people hated him they were often moved to express that in pastels. But, mockery was good, too, and frequent. And in this picture, it was mockery with love.
Thor looked over her shoulder at the picture and chuckled. “It is as though the artist has been in your workshop. I believe I saw a similar scene just days ago.”
"I was manfully retreating from an impending explosion and they were covering my back," Tony corrected with a sniff. Thor looked unimpressed and entirely too amused. Tony pointed a finger at him. "Can it, Point Break."
"I have seen that film, I do not understand the comparison."
Darcy rolled her eyes at both of them as they continued to snipe at each other. Tony was more than a little Loki-like and Thor had millennia dealing with his brother, so they’d both fallen into the odd, and maybe unexpected, habit of picking on each other when the opportunity arose. They seemed to enjoy it, and since it never devolved into violence, she ignored it.
Turning back to her comic, and tuning them out, she flipped through the pages. It was okay, she supposed. Hawkeye and Black Widow fighting some nameless, possibly pointless villain. The art was pure 80s four-color, which was probably the point of the whole piece — going for the vintage cheese-factor feel. But, it was one of the last panels on the last page that made Darcy cringe. In a completely terrified way. As in, people were going to die.
"Oh crap," she muttered, wincing but unable to look away from the panel.
"What?" Tony asked, snatching the book from her hands. His eyes scanned the page, and she saw the moment he found what had her so horrified. The look of glee on his face was unholy and so very dangerous. "That is the best thing I’ve ever seen."
He pulled out his phone to take a picture, but Darcy grabbed the book away from him. “Dad, do we have to talk about this again? You’re a superhero, not a supervillain. Don’t you understand? People will die if she sees this. Actual people will actually die for real.” She shook the comic at him.
"You’re exaggerating," he told her with a roll of his eyes.
"I’m not willing to risk it. So, be a good superhero and help me save some poor, profoundly stupid, and yet entirely innocent person from a horrible death by never, ever showing her this. In fact, I think we should track down and buy all the copies so that there’s never any danger of her ever seeing it."
While she was engaged with her father, Thor had plucked the pages from her hand and was perusing them with a small frown. “The art is fair, and the colors very vibrant, which I greatly enjoy. The representation of Natasha is well, though I do not know that the likeness of Barton is very close.”
"The subject, Thor. The subject," Darcy muttered, pulling out her own phone and finding out where else the book might have been sold, while Tony just made exasperated noises in his throat.
"Ah, yes." And then even the mighty God of Thunder winced a little. "I find that scenario unlikely."
"Which is what makes it funny," Tony said, spreading his hands wide.
"I do not think Natasha will find it so amusing," Thor countered.
"Look," Tony said in his ‘how did I become the reasonable one here’ voice. "I know that I give her all the crap about being a creepy murdery lurking horror, but she’s, you know, not actually a creepy murdery lurking horror. Nobody will die. I promise."
"Because you’re going to help us make this disappear?" Darcy asked.
"Because Natasha is not actually a psychopath," Tony said, throwing his arms up in frustration with maybe a tiny touch of confusion about how he was unexpectedly cast as the person defending Natasha’s sanity.
Thor was still examining the page with a frown. “She had such an injury a fortnight ago. I believe she tended it herself with the assistance of a wall. I did not know the extent of the injury until we returned.”
"Exactly," Darcy nodded.
"I do not recall her clinging to Barton in such a manner."
"I don’t think it’s an actual attempt to recreate that fight, Thor," Darcy pointed out gently.
"I do not recall her ever clinging to Barton in such a manner," he corrected, giving her a slightly impatient look. "Nor do I recall her ever complaining of injury." He closed the book and, placing it warily on the coffee table, said, "If such a thing was drawn of the Lady Sif, I would fear for the loss of lives, too."
"Oh for God’s sake," Tony grumbled. "It’s not that bad."
"Okay, if you’re not going to help, could you at least promise not to hinder?" Darcy pleaded.
"No." Tony smirked at her.
"Superhero, dad. Superhero!”
"Yeah? I’m going to super-heroically leave you two to your weird little panic party. Have a ball, kids." He stood up and grabbed the picture of Pepper in the Iron Man armor and strode out without another word.
It took Darcy and Thor a full five minutes before they realized he’d taken the comic book, too.
"Oh god," Darcy moaned while Thor patted her comfortingly on the back.
"It will be well," he assured her, though he sounded like he wasn’t entirely sure he believed that.
"He is such a damned troll."
Thor thought about that for a long second before nodding sadly. “Though he bears no resemblance, his actions are surely that of a troll.”
"Right?"
"Indeed."
"Thor, I think we have a mission. Take down my dad."
"Regretfully, I am forced to agree, Darcy Starksdottir."
"I’ll get the robots. You get myuh-myuh."
"Mjölnir."
"That’s what I said."