Various X Male or Non-Binary Reader

Tony Stark - What Happens After Death.

"With great power comes great responsibility."

Yeah, more like a great pain in the ass. Powers aren't fun. At all. At least if you had mine.

Hello! I'm (M/N) (L/N)! Mutant loser.
You see, ever since I was but a wee lad, I've had the power of seeing ghosts, predicting death, and pulling the dead from where've they're sent after they croak. COOL RIGHT!? Just kidding. You know how freaky it is to see your dead mom following you around at ten? Thinking 'Hey! Moms alive!' When really she's still six foot under? Yeah, not so great. Thankfully  moms little parade only lasted so long. Bless the woman for bringing me into the world and all, but she was really creepy.

Anyway, I'm trying to tell a story.

I work for the Avengers. Usually looking ahead to see if there's gonna be a death on a large mission. Or steering people clear of the lab on days when the place was darker. And my darker I don't mean visually. That's how my whole deal works. I look or touch or taste if they're desperate. And I'll feel a cold darkness to the object or place. Or if I need to pull a dead one up. Touching something that belonged to them usually works fine.

You may think I'm some amazing hero but, actually I was a villain. In the past when my abilities were seen as gain for myself, and other sketchy characters. Looking above any persons head. I see a timer. Always ticking. Years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, to seconds.

I try to help, but sometimes... Being able to predict a death isn't enough...

-

It was a Friday night. The Avengers and I were hanging around Stark tower, talking and joking around. At least until the topic turned grim.

"What do you think happens after death?" Clint asked. Staring at the beverage he held like he was some philosopher.

"I think there's nothing." Bruce answered. Getting a few nods here and there.

"Maybe there's a Hevan and Hell?" Steve asked. A few skeptical looks exchanged. Tony scoffing at the thought.

"Reincarnation?" Natasha questioned. No one argued but no one agreed. It's debatable.

"Why don't we just ask death boy?" Tony asked pointing in my direction. My eyes scanned as the rest looked towards me.

"What, you think I just know?" I asked shrugging. Then taking a sip of my drink. Hiding the fact that I really did know.

"Well, you can recall the fallen correct?" Thor asked. I nodded. Glancing at Thor's timer accidentally. Seeing plenty of time on the gods limit. Not worrying about any future missions for him.

"That I can." I replied finally breaking from my semi-depressing haze.

"Well, phone a dead one. I want to know." Clint said. Now I felt like we were just some group of teenagers summoning Bloody Mary.

"Does it really matter?" I groaned. I glanced over the timers. All having sufficient amounts of time ticking away.

"None of you are dying anytime soon." I continued. A small sigh of relief came from a few.

"I'd still like to know." Steve said a boyish smile stretching his 90-year-old features.

"Ugh, fine. I need some dead persons stuff." I droned looking to Stark. Tony gave me a weird glance.

"Well unless someone else has a dead persons belongings. I'm betting you're the only one. Don't you have like you're dads crap or something?" I asked. He rolled his eyes and excused himself jogging to another room.