memory
The public celebrates Natasha.
Clint laughs at the statues they build, at the wakes they hold. He scoffs at the businessmen and politicians who say that they owe her their lives.
Fuck yeah you do, he thinks, chucking a plum at the TV screen.
He thinks of the hundreds of Shield agents who called Tasha a commie behind her back, the ones who whispered that she was a traitor, a spy, a killer, a mercenary without mercy. The ones who looked at him as if he’d painted a target on his back, just by happening to see something in a girl brainwashed to kill.
He thinks of the people that praised Captain America but tore Tasha down, calling her a spy, a traitor, a b*tch and a sl*t. He thinks of the men bitching about her being a hero, the right wing cowards too scared to fight themselves, but all too willing to tear down Tasha.
He thinks of how Tasha released her entire record, her crimes, her murders, her darkest nightmares, to the public. For anyone to see.
He thinks of Tasha not caring about anyone but the people she’d sworn to protect. Not caring about the opinions tossed at her, not caring about anything other than keeping people safe.
They call her a hero, they say that she saved billions, and Clint laughs.
Of course she did, he thinks, looking up at her statue. She was always a hero.
After all, there was always a reason Clint chose her in the first place.
Tag: Endgame
I really wish I had my hammer. Quite unique. It was made from this special metal from the heart of a dying star. And when I spun it really, really fast, it gave me the ability to fly.
You know, if you’re about to tell me to look on the bright side, I’m about to hit you in the head with a peanut butter sandwich. (inspired by x)
You know, if you’re about to tell me to look on the bright side, I’m about to hit you in the head with a peanut butter sandwich. (inspired by x)
the world does not forget natasha romanoff.
she has never been as loud or as public as tony stark, but everyone heard about her releasing shield’s files, everyone saw her protecting the earth for five long years when all of the other original avengers had walked away from the fight.
the black widow was not a shiny metal philanthrobot, or any kind of supersoldier, or a rooftop-jumping archer, or a god from an era long gone.
she was a spy; she tried to stay in the shadows, to keep to herself.
she was the last avenger for many of them.
she was their hero, and she still is.
it is quiet, at first, the grief. there are no mobs of people, no wailing in the streets.
but when the first iron man mural appears in new york city, a black widow one goes up right across from it.
slowly but surely, monuments appear, most homemade and small, but still there.
she is in textbooks and museums and articles, not always the focus but never left out.
if tony stark is the hero who’s name they shout, natasha is the one they whisper about, quiet reassurances and cries in the night.
she was a protector, fierce and selfless and loyal, fighting for a world that had never done her much good.
they will never forget that.
All Things Considered | Tony and Natasha
The Heart and Soul, who tried to keep the family together when no one else did. You can rest now.
