𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓐 '𝓜𝓲𝓭𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓪𝓷'
↳ (13 avengers x reader)
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｡･:*˚:✧｡ You crash land on Asgard, not knowing who you are or where you're from, and especially not knowing what a 'soulmate' is. May the Allfather guide you on your journey ac...
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y/n = your name
italics = thoughts
Suicide Hotline Number: 988
⊱ ────── {⋆⌘⋆} ────── ⊰
No, this isn't right. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be alive. You thought this as you tossed and turned on the way-too-soft mattress. The rain outside pelted the glass of the high rise.
I should've died instead of those innocent people. I should've just let them torture me instead... Kill me instead...
You listened to the rain for a few more minutes. Your head felt too empty to be storing centuries worth of memories. Centuries... and yet only the past century really stung.
You remembered how broken your father was when your mother died. You remembered him telling you to spare yourself the heartache. Yet now you were here, lying in a bed in the tower.
You could disappear again, but that would hurt both you and them. You'd have some of them in a century or two, but not all. What was this odd feeling of impending doom?
The unfathomable scenarios that kept racing through your head. The unthinkable consequences of the few solutions you could come up with.
How did a god sleep?
{⋆⌘⋆}
You found yourself in the kitchen at some point. The tower looked different at night. The city looked different at night, too.
You brushed your fingertips on the cool countertops, hoping to feel... something. But yet, nothing.
You glided your hand on the faucet, contemplating the burn of boiling water. Deciding against it, you slid your hands towards the knife holder.
What you were about to do, was it worth it? Would it remedy anything? How would they feel if they knew?
Hurt? You felt so empty, there wasn't a shred of care. So empty that the thoughts disappeared into the void of nothing.
The knife gleamed in the city light as you held it against your palm, admiring it. It made you feel mortal, just holding it. It felt better. But not good.
The small voice in the back of your mind, the one you never bothered to listen to anymore, urged you upwards. Away from the others' connection and away from the cameras. Cameras Tony used to protect everyone, but cameras that did not want to see what was going to happen.
