Avengers Imagines

Blood In Your Eyes

(A/N: The above image is just something cool I found on Pinterest. Please take it with a grain of salt and try to visualize the description provided in the narrative, but in the same spirit.)

You were born with blood in your eyes. Tiny red flecks floated over the (Y/E/C) of your irises, moving around as if they were alive. Some days you would see red spots wherever you looked and on others, you would spend hours seeing the world through a thin red film.

Mostly they would steer clear of your vision. You almost forgot about them. Almost. Doctors had no answer, nor did they have a cure — the only thing they were certain of was the fact that the condition was harmless and barely any damage was attributable to the stagnant spots of blood.

The only person to offer any sort of an explanation was your mother. She told you her great-grandmother and her mother before her had also been born with blood in their eyes. Both women had endured great suffering in their lives.

"You are meant to cry them out." Your mother used to tell you, "One day you will."

You hated her for it, for repeatedly offering the implication that one day you would suffer pain so deep, literal blood would flow out of your eyes. Then she died. It was the first death you had experienced and had trouble coming to terms with it. You cried for days, but the blood stayed, stubborn yet vibrant.

It was only a matter of time before your dad followed. He had been sick for a long time and you anticipated for it to happen sooner or later. That did nothing to ease the grief, you were much closer to him then you ever were to your mother.

You refrained from crying at the funeral in fear that the bloody tears that would almost definitely come from it would cause a scene but even in private, all that ran down your face was salty, clear liquid.

Losing both your parents at such a young age and having no one to fall back on left you with very limited options. Yet you endured, such was your nature and your fate. You made something of yourself, took what you could and made the most of it.

For someone who had been through so much and knew for a fact that worse was yet to come, you were overwhelmed to fall in love, with Tony Stark, of all people. He thought the world of you, when even you yourself did not. The blood in your eyes fascinated him to no end — he considered it a part of you, not some deformity that was to be ignored for you to be lovable.

Be that as it may, you found yourself cursing the feeling often. Tony was getting into potentially fatal circumstances left, right and centre; so much that you had lost count. When it started with him getting kidnapped in the Middle-East, you were worried out of your mind and upon his return, you chalked it up to a one-time occurrence.

It only got worse from there. In the time to come, he proceeded to fly into a wormhole that opened into space. You were certain you had lost him the time your house was bombarded into the ocean. But Tony survived, only to get into a fantastic fight with Steve and be left for dead.

Apparently all that had happened until now was relatively tame. Your former boyfriend now husband managed to get into a fight with the Mad Titan, which included but was not limited to throwing around of extraterrestrial moons.

You had cried every single one of those times and many, many more; waiting, praying for the blood to leave your eyes so you knew the worst had passed but it stayed — sprinkled on your irises, sparkling in the sun, the way Tony liked it best.

When the time came, nothing could prepare you for it. Tony Stark died saving the entire universe and not a single tear came. Neither blood nor water — your eyes remained as dry as the Aral sea.