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[that-hawk-guy]

“Well maybe when I come back…if you’re interested…we could make those pizza dates a dinner date or two.”

He hoped she’d understand what he means.

Agony

@scarredbookworm

The sun slipped beneath the jagged skyline of the ravaged city, casting long, ominous shadows over the rubble-strewn streets. Clint Barton, known to the world as Hawkeye, perched on the edge of a dilapidated building, his keen gaze sweeping the area. The Avengers were in the thick of a mission to secure a stolen device that threatened global security, and every second counted.

“Clint, you’re good to go,” Natasha’s voice crackled through his earpiece, a steady presence in the chaos below. But his focus was elsewhere—on Kate. She was down there, leading their team with her signature blend of confidence and tenacity. The way she fought made him proud, igniting a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t shake.

Just as he prepared to vault down, an explosion erupted nearby, sending a shockwave that rattled the ground. Dust and debris filled the air, and instinct kicked in. “What just happened?” he barked, adrenaline surging.

“Ambush!” Kate shouted, urgency lacing her words. He could see her dodging debris, her eyes scanning for threats. Panic gripped him; he had to get to her.

“Kate, move!” he called out, but it was almost too late. From the swirling dust emerged an enemy soldier, weapon aimed directly at her. Time slowed to a crawl as Clint’s heart raced. He couldn’t let her get hurt—not on his watch.

In a split second decision, he launched himself forward, adrenaline propelling him into action. He let an arrow fly, but it felt like an eternity. The soldier’s grin was menacing, and Clint knew what he had to do.

With a desperate lunge, he shoved Kate out of the line of fire. She tumbled to safety, but in that same instant, pain erupted in his side. He gasped, the realization hitting him like a freight train—he’d taken the shot meant for her.

“Clint!” Kate’s voice rang out, filled with horror and urgency. He caught sight of her, scrambling to her feet, but everything around him began to blur. The world felt distant as warmth seeped from his wound, overwhelming him.

He fell to his knees, the ground rough against his palms. As darkness crept in, he locked eyes with Kate, wanting to convey everything he felt—the gratitude, the pride, the love. But words failed him as he fought against the encroaching shadows.

He hoped she’d remember him, that she’d carry on and fight with the same fire that had always inspired him. As the world faded to black, the last image etched in his mind was of her.

[that-hawk-guy]

And this started a routine. After missions or just on Friday nights when the nights were long Clint would find himself here with Kate enjoying the pizza and her company.

When the time came for him to go home for a bit he was actually a little bit down about it. He’d love to see Lila but Kate had become a good friend…and dare he say someone important to him.

He just wasn’t sure what his next step should be or if there was a next step.

Agony

@scarredbookworm

The sun slipped beneath the jagged skyline of the ravaged city, casting long, ominous shadows over the rubble-strewn streets. Clint Barton, known to the world as Hawkeye, perched on the edge of a dilapidated building, his keen gaze sweeping the area. The Avengers were in the thick of a mission to secure a stolen device that threatened global security, and every second counted.

“Clint, you’re good to go,” Natasha’s voice crackled through his earpiece, a steady presence in the chaos below. But his focus was elsewhere—on Kate. She was down there, leading their team with her signature blend of confidence and tenacity. The way she fought made him proud, igniting a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t shake.

Just as he prepared to vault down, an explosion erupted nearby, sending a shockwave that rattled the ground. Dust and debris filled the air, and instinct kicked in. “What just happened?” he barked, adrenaline surging.

“Ambush!” Kate shouted, urgency lacing her words. He could see her dodging debris, her eyes scanning for threats. Panic gripped him; he had to get to her.

“Kate, move!” he called out, but it was almost too late. From the swirling dust emerged an enemy soldier, weapon aimed directly at her. Time slowed to a crawl as Clint’s heart raced. He couldn’t let her get hurt—not on his watch.

In a split second decision, he launched himself forward, adrenaline propelling him into action. He let an arrow fly, but it felt like an eternity. The soldier’s grin was menacing, and Clint knew what he had to do.

With a desperate lunge, he shoved Kate out of the line of fire. She tumbled to safety, but in that same instant, pain erupted in his side. He gasped, the realization hitting him like a freight train—he’d taken the shot meant for her.

“Clint!” Kate’s voice rang out, filled with horror and urgency. He caught sight of her, scrambling to her feet, but everything around him began to blur. The world felt distant as warmth seeped from his wound, overwhelming him.

He fell to his knees, the ground rough against his palms. As darkness crept in, he locked eyes with Kate, wanting to convey everything he felt—the gratitude, the pride, the love. But words failed him as he fought against the encroaching shadows.

He hoped she’d remember him, that she’d carry on and fight with the same fire that had always inspired him. As the world faded to black, the last image etched in his mind was of her.

[that-hawk-guy]

Clint hesitated. “Actually…let’s sleep on it first. I wanna try something but tomorrow.”

He had seen snippets of set traveling by sand and wanted to try it.

**Shadows of the Archer**

In the dim light of a rundown motel room in New Orleans, Clint Barton sat at a battered table, tracing the rim of a chipped coffee cup with a restless finger. The air felt thick with the weight of secrets, and the shadows in the corners seemed to pulse with a life of their own. Within him, Set—a powerful entity of chaos and darkness—coexisted, a constant presence that Clint had learned to navigate but never fully accepted. The god didn’t fight to break free; instead, he lingered, a silent partner in Clint’s life, complicating every decision.

Outside, the vibrant sounds of the city—jazz spilling from bars, laughter echoing down the streets—felt like a world apart. Clint had once fought alongside the Avengers, but now he was a fugitive, not just from those who sought to exploit Set’s power, but from the turmoil within himself. He had to hide his true nature, especially from the one person who mattered most: Kate.

His thoughts drifted to her, the way her fiery spirit ignited something within him. He loved her deeply, but the fear of revealing his truth held him captive. What would she think if she knew he shared his body with a god? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

A soft knock at the door broke his reverie. Instinctively, he reached for his bow, muscles tensed. But he recognized the voice immediately.

“Clint,” he heard Kate call, her tone laced with concern. He hesitated, battling the urge to retreat into the shadows of his own mind. The conflict within—between the archer and the ancient entity—was an ongoing struggle, and he didn’t want her to see the cracks in his facade.

Taking a breath, he tucked his bow away and opened the door. Kate stood there, her expression a mix of determination and worry. Her sharp eyes searching his, trying to pierce through the walls he had built. He knew exactly what she was asking without her even speaking.

“I’m okay, just… laying low,” he replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask. But as he spoke, he felt the familiar warmth of Set’s presence, a reminder of the power that flowed through him. When he used that power, golden hieroglyphics would appear on his skin, and his eyes would glow with an otherworldly light. It was a sign of the chaos within, and he was terrified of what it might mean for their future.

He wanted to reach out, to tell her everything—the battles he fought within himself, the love that both exhilarated and terrified him. But the words caught in his throat, tangled with the fear of what Set could do. For now, he would play the part of the loyal Avenger, but he knew that the shadows were closing in, and soon, he would have to confront the truth of his existence and the love that could either save him or consume him.

@scarredbookworm

[that-hawk-guy]

“I’ll take a coffee black,” Clint said. “And we’re ready to order our pizza if that’s okay?”

“Sure. What can we get you?”

“I’ll have the works without fish or pineapple and my friend here will have sausage and olives.”

Agony

@scarredbookworm

The sun slipped beneath the jagged skyline of the ravaged city, casting long, ominous shadows over the rubble-strewn streets. Clint Barton, known to the world as Hawkeye, perched on the edge of a dilapidated building, his keen gaze sweeping the area. The Avengers were in the thick of a mission to secure a stolen device that threatened global security, and every second counted.

“Clint, you’re good to go,” Natasha’s voice crackled through his earpiece, a steady presence in the chaos below. But his focus was elsewhere—on Kate. She was down there, leading their team with her signature blend of confidence and tenacity. The way she fought made him proud, igniting a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t shake.

Just as he prepared to vault down, an explosion erupted nearby, sending a shockwave that rattled the ground. Dust and debris filled the air, and instinct kicked in. “What just happened?” he barked, adrenaline surging.

“Ambush!” Kate shouted, urgency lacing her words. He could see her dodging debris, her eyes scanning for threats. Panic gripped him; he had to get to her.

“Kate, move!” he called out, but it was almost too late. From the swirling dust emerged an enemy soldier, weapon aimed directly at her. Time slowed to a crawl as Clint’s heart raced. He couldn’t let her get hurt—not on his watch.

In a split second decision, he launched himself forward, adrenaline propelling him into action. He let an arrow fly, but it felt like an eternity. The soldier’s grin was menacing, and Clint knew what he had to do.

With a desperate lunge, he shoved Kate out of the line of fire. She tumbled to safety, but in that same instant, pain erupted in his side. He gasped, the realization hitting him like a freight train—he’d taken the shot meant for her.

“Clint!” Kate’s voice rang out, filled with horror and urgency. He caught sight of her, scrambling to her feet, but everything around him began to blur. The world felt distant as warmth seeped from his wound, overwhelming him.

He fell to his knees, the ground rough against his palms. As darkness crept in, he locked eyes with Kate, wanting to convey everything he felt—the gratitude, the pride, the love. But words failed him as he fought against the encroaching shadows.

He hoped she’d remember him, that she’d carry on and fight with the same fire that had always inspired him. As the world faded to black, the last image etched in his mind was of her.

[that-hawk-guy]

Clint smiled softly. “I’d like that. All those times we pretended to be a couple on a vacation were torture. All I wanted to do was kiss you and more.”

**Shadows of the Archer**

In the dim light of a rundown motel room in New Orleans, Clint Barton sat at a battered table, tracing the rim of a chipped coffee cup with a restless finger. The air felt thick with the weight of secrets, and the shadows in the corners seemed to pulse with a life of their own. Within him, Set—a powerful entity of chaos and darkness—coexisted, a constant presence that Clint had learned to navigate but never fully accepted. The god didn’t fight to break free; instead, he lingered, a silent partner in Clint’s life, complicating every decision.

Outside, the vibrant sounds of the city—jazz spilling from bars, laughter echoing down the streets—felt like a world apart. Clint had once fought alongside the Avengers, but now he was a fugitive, not just from those who sought to exploit Set’s power, but from the turmoil within himself. He had to hide his true nature, especially from the one person who mattered most: Kate.

His thoughts drifted to her, the way her fiery spirit ignited something within him. He loved her deeply, but the fear of revealing his truth held him captive. What would she think if she knew he shared his body with a god? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

A soft knock at the door broke his reverie. Instinctively, he reached for his bow, muscles tensed. But he recognized the voice immediately.

“Clint,” he heard Kate call, her tone laced with concern. He hesitated, battling the urge to retreat into the shadows of his own mind. The conflict within—between the archer and the ancient entity—was an ongoing struggle, and he didn’t want her to see the cracks in his facade.

Taking a breath, he tucked his bow away and opened the door. Kate stood there, her expression a mix of determination and worry. Her sharp eyes searching his, trying to pierce through the walls he had built. He knew exactly what she was asking without her even speaking.

“I’m okay, just… laying low,” he replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask. But as he spoke, he felt the familiar warmth of Set’s presence, a reminder of the power that flowed through him. When he used that power, golden hieroglyphics would appear on his skin, and his eyes would glow with an otherworldly light. It was a sign of the chaos within, and he was terrified of what it might mean for their future.

He wanted to reach out, to tell her everything—the battles he fought within himself, the love that both exhilarated and terrified him. But the words caught in his throat, tangled with the fear of what Set could do. For now, he would play the part of the loyal Avenger, but he knew that the shadows were closing in, and soon, he would have to confront the truth of his existence and the love that could either save him or consume him.

@scarredbookworm

[that-hawk-guy]

Clint smirked. “Sounds good to me. I want everything on it hut anchovies and pineapple.”

Agony

@scarredbookworm

The sun slipped beneath the jagged skyline of the ravaged city, casting long, ominous shadows over the rubble-strewn streets. Clint Barton, known to the world as Hawkeye, perched on the edge of a dilapidated building, his keen gaze sweeping the area. The Avengers were in the thick of a mission to secure a stolen device that threatened global security, and every second counted.

“Clint, you’re good to go,” Natasha’s voice crackled through his earpiece, a steady presence in the chaos below. But his focus was elsewhere—on Kate. She was down there, leading their team with her signature blend of confidence and tenacity. The way she fought made him proud, igniting a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t shake.

Just as he prepared to vault down, an explosion erupted nearby, sending a shockwave that rattled the ground. Dust and debris filled the air, and instinct kicked in. “What just happened?” he barked, adrenaline surging.

“Ambush!” Kate shouted, urgency lacing her words. He could see her dodging debris, her eyes scanning for threats. Panic gripped him; he had to get to her.

“Kate, move!” he called out, but it was almost too late. From the swirling dust emerged an enemy soldier, weapon aimed directly at her. Time slowed to a crawl as Clint’s heart raced. He couldn’t let her get hurt—not on his watch.

In a split second decision, he launched himself forward, adrenaline propelling him into action. He let an arrow fly, but it felt like an eternity. The soldier’s grin was menacing, and Clint knew what he had to do.

With a desperate lunge, he shoved Kate out of the line of fire. She tumbled to safety, but in that same instant, pain erupted in his side. He gasped, the realization hitting him like a freight train—he’d taken the shot meant for her.

“Clint!” Kate’s voice rang out, filled with horror and urgency. He caught sight of her, scrambling to her feet, but everything around him began to blur. The world felt distant as warmth seeped from his wound, overwhelming him.

He fell to his knees, the ground rough against his palms. As darkness crept in, he locked eyes with Kate, wanting to convey everything he felt—the gratitude, the pride, the love. But words failed him as he fought against the encroaching shadows.

He hoped she’d remember him, that she’d carry on and fight with the same fire that had always inspired him. As the world faded to black, the last image etched in his mind was of her.

[that-hawk-guy]

“I don’t feel any drain. I think it all comes from Set…maybe we should take a trip to Egypt. See what happens…”

**Shadows of the Archer**

In the dim light of a rundown motel room in New Orleans, Clint Barton sat at a battered table, tracing the rim of a chipped coffee cup with a restless finger. The air felt thick with the weight of secrets, and the shadows in the corners seemed to pulse with a life of their own. Within him, Set—a powerful entity of chaos and darkness—coexisted, a constant presence that Clint had learned to navigate but never fully accepted. The god didn’t fight to break free; instead, he lingered, a silent partner in Clint’s life, complicating every decision.

Outside, the vibrant sounds of the city—jazz spilling from bars, laughter echoing down the streets—felt like a world apart. Clint had once fought alongside the Avengers, but now he was a fugitive, not just from those who sought to exploit Set’s power, but from the turmoil within himself. He had to hide his true nature, especially from the one person who mattered most: Kate.

His thoughts drifted to her, the way her fiery spirit ignited something within him. He loved her deeply, but the fear of revealing his truth held him captive. What would she think if she knew he shared his body with a god? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

A soft knock at the door broke his reverie. Instinctively, he reached for his bow, muscles tensed. But he recognized the voice immediately.

“Clint,” he heard Kate call, her tone laced with concern. He hesitated, battling the urge to retreat into the shadows of his own mind. The conflict within—between the archer and the ancient entity—was an ongoing struggle, and he didn’t want her to see the cracks in his facade.

Taking a breath, he tucked his bow away and opened the door. Kate stood there, her expression a mix of determination and worry. Her sharp eyes searching his, trying to pierce through the walls he had built. He knew exactly what she was asking without her even speaking.

“I’m okay, just… laying low,” he replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask. But as he spoke, he felt the familiar warmth of Set’s presence, a reminder of the power that flowed through him. When he used that power, golden hieroglyphics would appear on his skin, and his eyes would glow with an otherworldly light. It was a sign of the chaos within, and he was terrified of what it might mean for their future.

He wanted to reach out, to tell her everything—the battles he fought within himself, the love that both exhilarated and terrified him. But the words caught in his throat, tangled with the fear of what Set could do. For now, he would play the part of the loyal Avenger, but he knew that the shadows were closing in, and soon, he would have to confront the truth of his existence and the love that could either save him or consume him.

@scarredbookworm

[that-hawk-guy]

Steve and Thor both reached her at the same time, helping her move things and hoping that Clint was okay. It’s times like these that they are reminded—often brutally—of how human Clint is.

When his broken body appeared, Steve actually cursed. Clint had never looked so bad. He came on the comms.

“Banner! We need a med evac! Stat!” He gasped.

“What’s going on?” Tony cut in.

**Last Arrow**

Clint Barton crouched on the edge of the crumbling building, his heart pounding in rhythm with the distant thud of explosions. He scanned the chaotic streets below, his bow taut in his hands, every sense heightened. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of destruction, but all he could focus on was the mission—and Fan.

She was down there, moving with an elegance and precision that took his breath away. Each step she took was deliberate, her eyes sharp and unyielding as she directed their team through the chaos. He admired her strength, the way she made every fight seem like a dance, and for a moment, the weight of the mission faded.

“Clint, you’re clear to move,” Natasha’s voice crackled through his earpiece, but he barely registered it. Instead, he was captivated by the sight of Fan. She ducked and weaved, dodging debris with a grace that made his heart ache. He wanted to be down there with her, fighting side by side, but the orders came first.

Just as he prepared to leap from his perch, a thunderous explosion erupted nearby, rattling the ground beneath him. Dust and debris clouded his vision, and instinct kicked in. He reached for his bow, adrenaline surging through his veins. “What was that?” he barked into the comms.

“Ambush!” the urgency in Natasha’s voice snapped him back to reality. He needed to get down there, to help them regroup, but a sinking feeling settled in his gut. He could see Fan, her expression now a mix of determination and fear as she scanned the chaos around her.

“Clint, get back!” Her voice rang out, a command laced with panic. His heart dropped. She was in danger, and he couldn’t abandon her.

He turned to jump down, but that’s when he heard it—a low rumble that sent a chill racing down his spine. The building beside him began to tremble, bricks and steel creaking ominously as the structure threatened to collapse. He felt time slow as he turned back to Fan, his breath catching in his throat.

She was looking at him, her eyes wide with realization, and in that moment, every emotion surged through him—love, fear, regret. He wanted to reach her, to tell her everything would be okay, but the ground shook violently, and he knew it was too late.

“Fan! Get down!” he shouted, but the roar of the collapsing building drowned out his voice. He could see her instincts kicking in; she was diving for cover, but he was rooted in place, caught between the urge to run and the pull of her gaze.

As the structure came crashing down, Clint felt the weight of inevitability settle over him. This was it. He could see the dust swirling, the darkness creeping in. In those final moments, he held onto the image of her—brave and fierce, a light in the encroaching shadows.

He took a deep breath, hoping she would remember him, even when the world went dark.

@fan-maddson

[that-hawk-guy]

“Shouldn’t be a problem. I could also rent a truck and deliver it myself,” Clint offered. “Be a nice drive…but I wouldn’t ask you and the baby to come.”

The Unexpected Delivery

Clint Barton, known in the shadows as a skilled assassin, found himself in a precarious situation. As he sped away from his latest target, the flashing lights of a police car appeared in his rearview mirror. With his heart pounding, Clint knew he had to think fast to avoid capture.

Pulling over to the side of the road, Clint watched as the police officer approached his vehicle with a stern expression. In a split-second decision, Clint concocted a wild excuse. He rolled down his window and with a look of panic, he blurted out, "Officer, please, my girlfriend just called me and she is in labor! I need to get to the hospital right away!"

The officer, taken aback by Clint's frantic plea, quickly escorted him to the hospital, sirens blaring as they raced through the streets. Clint's mind raced with the weight of his lie, hoping to evade the law and reach safety.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Clint rushed inside, his heart still racing from the close encounter with the police. As he caught his breath, he noticed a young woman sitting in the waiting area, clearly in distress and very pregnant. And alone.

He approached her cautiously, holding out his hands. “Excuse me Miss? Are you alone? I…sort of told this officer I was coming here for my pregnant girlfriend that doesn’t exist.”

His words were sheepish.

“But if you’re alone and need support, I’m more than happy to be here for you,” Clint said awkwardly. “I understand if you don’t want that though. I mean…you probably think I’m weird.”

@fan-maddson

[that-hawk-guy]

Clint flushed slightly. “Sorry…I didn’t even think that it may hurt you. No one ever talks about that.”

The Senator’s Daughter

@fan-maddson

Clint knew he was lost the moment he saw her for the first time. How else would a sixteen year old carney react to such a beautiful girl? Especially one way out of his league. But he truly couldn’t help himself.

He often found himself searching for her in the crowds when he realized she was seeing multiple shows on different nights. If she was there, he’d show off a little bit. If she wasn’t, he kept it simple.

He knew Barney suspected he had a crush. Clint just needed to keep it a secret. There’s no way she’d go for a guy like him.

[that-hawk-guy]

Clint watched her curiously, listening to her complain about the weather. Inside set stirred, also amused. Clint had a fleeting thought of stopping the rain but he may mess that up.

His track record isn’t too great really. He can’t control it enough. But he wished he could. Maybe that’s what he needs to do? Practice where no one will get hurt.

Especially her. Clint had discovered Fan a long time ago, even if she never realized it. He kept his distance and only looked her up when the world got bad. But never approached her.

The Shadows

The rain drummed steadily against the roof of the small, dimly lit café in the heart of New Orleans, creating a rhythmic backdrop to Clint Barton’s thoughts. He sat in a corner, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee, steam curling upward like whispers of what once was. Outside, the world brimmed with life, but inside, he felt isolated, caught in a web of secrets that threatened to ensnare him.

His gaze fixated on the door, heart quickening as it swung open. She walked in, a burst of light in the dreary weather, her barista uniform a stark contrast to her vibrant personality. Clint couldn’t help but feel drawn to her, a beacon in the chaos of his life. The warmth of her presence momentarily pushed aside the shadows that clung to him, but the heaviness of his secret weighed him down.

He wanted to be open, to share the truth of his existence with someone—the ancient god of chaos that shared his body, the fear of losing control, and the golden hieroglyphics that danced upon his skin whenever he tapped into that power. But the words remained lodged in his throat, a turbulent storm brewing just beneath the surface every time he even tried.

As the café lights flickered, shadows danced across the walls, and he felt Set stir within him, a reminder of the chaos that lurked just beneath his skin. Clint forced a smile, hoping to mask the turmoil brewing inside. It was easier to act like everything was fine, to play the part of the loyal Avenger, than to confront the truth that might shatter the fragile shadow he was living in.

He watched her, feeling a mix of admiration and longing. She was everything he wanted, yet everything he feared.

@fan-maddson

[that-hawk-guy]

“Me too…so to your place first?” He wondered, “so you can grab what you need and all that?”

The Unexpected Delivery

Clint Barton, known in the shadows as a skilled assassin, found himself in a precarious situation. As he sped away from his latest target, the flashing lights of a police car appeared in his rearview mirror. With his heart pounding, Clint knew he had to think fast to avoid capture.

Pulling over to the side of the road, Clint watched as the police officer approached his vehicle with a stern expression. In a split-second decision, Clint concocted a wild excuse. He rolled down his window and with a look of panic, he blurted out, "Officer, please, my girlfriend just called me and she is in labor! I need to get to the hospital right away!"

The officer, taken aback by Clint's frantic plea, quickly escorted him to the hospital, sirens blaring as they raced through the streets. Clint's mind raced with the weight of his lie, hoping to evade the law and reach safety.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Clint rushed inside, his heart still racing from the close encounter with the police. As he caught his breath, he noticed a young woman sitting in the waiting area, clearly in distress and very pregnant. And alone.

He approached her cautiously, holding out his hands. “Excuse me Miss? Are you alone? I…sort of told this officer I was coming here for my pregnant girlfriend that doesn’t exist.”

His words were sheepish.

“But if you’re alone and need support, I’m more than happy to be here for you,” Clint said awkwardly. “I understand if you don’t want that though. I mean…you probably think I’m weird.”

@fan-maddson

[that-hawk-guy]

Clint stilled to give her time to adjust, kissing you softly. “I love you, sweetheart. You say when you’re ready..”

The Senator’s Daughter

@fan-maddson

Clint knew he was lost the moment he saw her for the first time. How else would a sixteen year old carney react to such a beautiful girl? Especially one way out of his league. But he truly couldn’t help himself.

He often found himself searching for her in the crowds when he realized she was seeing multiple shows on different nights. If she was there, he’d show off a little bit. If she wasn’t, he kept it simple.

He knew Barney suspected he had a crush. Clint just needed to keep it a secret. There’s no way she’d go for a guy like him.

[that-hawk-guy]

Clint nodded. “Your secret is safe. I have some…not even Fury and Coulson know. I’ll probably tell you one day, but not yet. It’s…sensitive info.”

Agony

@scarredbookworm

The sun slipped beneath the jagged skyline of the ravaged city, casting long, ominous shadows over the rubble-strewn streets. Clint Barton, known to the world as Hawkeye, perched on the edge of a dilapidated building, his keen gaze sweeping the area. The Avengers were in the thick of a mission to secure a stolen device that threatened global security, and every second counted.

“Clint, you’re good to go,” Natasha’s voice crackled through his earpiece, a steady presence in the chaos below. But his focus was elsewhere—on Kate. She was down there, leading their team with her signature blend of confidence and tenacity. The way she fought made him proud, igniting a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t shake.

Just as he prepared to vault down, an explosion erupted nearby, sending a shockwave that rattled the ground. Dust and debris filled the air, and instinct kicked in. “What just happened?” he barked, adrenaline surging.

“Ambush!” Kate shouted, urgency lacing her words. He could see her dodging debris, her eyes scanning for threats. Panic gripped him; he had to get to her.

“Kate, move!” he called out, but it was almost too late. From the swirling dust emerged an enemy soldier, weapon aimed directly at her. Time slowed to a crawl as Clint’s heart raced. He couldn’t let her get hurt—not on his watch.

In a split second decision, he launched himself forward, adrenaline propelling him into action. He let an arrow fly, but it felt like an eternity. The soldier’s grin was menacing, and Clint knew what he had to do.

With a desperate lunge, he shoved Kate out of the line of fire. She tumbled to safety, but in that same instant, pain erupted in his side. He gasped, the realization hitting him like a freight train—he’d taken the shot meant for her.

“Clint!” Kate’s voice rang out, filled with horror and urgency. He caught sight of her, scrambling to her feet, but everything around him began to blur. The world felt distant as warmth seeped from his wound, overwhelming him.

He fell to his knees, the ground rough against his palms. As darkness crept in, he locked eyes with Kate, wanting to convey everything he felt—the gratitude, the pride, the love. But words failed him as he fought against the encroaching shadows.

He hoped she’d remember him, that she’d carry on and fight with the same fire that had always inspired him. As the world faded to black, the last image etched in his mind was of her.

[that-hawk-guy]

“I haven’t really messed with it that much,” he admitted. “Just found I could manipulate it some on accident. And I think it lasts as long as I do…unless I will it to dissolve.”

**Shadows of the Archer**

In the dim light of a rundown motel room in New Orleans, Clint Barton sat at a battered table, tracing the rim of a chipped coffee cup with a restless finger. The air felt thick with the weight of secrets, and the shadows in the corners seemed to pulse with a life of their own. Within him, Set—a powerful entity of chaos and darkness—coexisted, a constant presence that Clint had learned to navigate but never fully accepted. The god didn’t fight to break free; instead, he lingered, a silent partner in Clint’s life, complicating every decision.

Outside, the vibrant sounds of the city—jazz spilling from bars, laughter echoing down the streets—felt like a world apart. Clint had once fought alongside the Avengers, but now he was a fugitive, not just from those who sought to exploit Set’s power, but from the turmoil within himself. He had to hide his true nature, especially from the one person who mattered most: Kate.

His thoughts drifted to her, the way her fiery spirit ignited something within him. He loved her deeply, but the fear of revealing his truth held him captive. What would she think if she knew he shared his body with a god? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

A soft knock at the door broke his reverie. Instinctively, he reached for his bow, muscles tensed. But he recognized the voice immediately.

“Clint,” he heard Kate call, her tone laced with concern. He hesitated, battling the urge to retreat into the shadows of his own mind. The conflict within—between the archer and the ancient entity—was an ongoing struggle, and he didn’t want her to see the cracks in his facade.

Taking a breath, he tucked his bow away and opened the door. Kate stood there, her expression a mix of determination and worry. Her sharp eyes searching his, trying to pierce through the walls he had built. He knew exactly what she was asking without her even speaking.

“I’m okay, just… laying low,” he replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask. But as he spoke, he felt the familiar warmth of Set’s presence, a reminder of the power that flowed through him. When he used that power, golden hieroglyphics would appear on his skin, and his eyes would glow with an otherworldly light. It was a sign of the chaos within, and he was terrified of what it might mean for their future.

He wanted to reach out, to tell her everything—the battles he fought within himself, the love that both exhilarated and terrified him. But the words caught in his throat, tangled with the fear of what Set could do. For now, he would play the part of the loyal Avenger, but he knew that the shadows were closing in, and soon, he would have to confront the truth of his existence and the love that could either save him or consume him.

@scarredbookworm

[that-hawk-guy]

Clint regarded her. He reached towards her and stopped just shy of her.

“I can do something but that’s it. A cheap trick. Hang on…”

He focused and the runes on his arm began to flow golden, and smile gold leaked into his eyes. Sand started to appear on the table, confined to a small space and started to take shape.

Soon a cat was there.

**Shadows of the Archer**

In the dim light of a rundown motel room in New Orleans, Clint Barton sat at a battered table, tracing the rim of a chipped coffee cup with a restless finger. The air felt thick with the weight of secrets, and the shadows in the corners seemed to pulse with a life of their own. Within him, Set—a powerful entity of chaos and darkness—coexisted, a constant presence that Clint had learned to navigate but never fully accepted. The god didn’t fight to break free; instead, he lingered, a silent partner in Clint’s life, complicating every decision.

Outside, the vibrant sounds of the city—jazz spilling from bars, laughter echoing down the streets—felt like a world apart. Clint had once fought alongside the Avengers, but now he was a fugitive, not just from those who sought to exploit Set’s power, but from the turmoil within himself. He had to hide his true nature, especially from the one person who mattered most: Kate.

His thoughts drifted to her, the way her fiery spirit ignited something within him. He loved her deeply, but the fear of revealing his truth held him captive. What would she think if she knew he shared his body with a god? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

A soft knock at the door broke his reverie. Instinctively, he reached for his bow, muscles tensed. But he recognized the voice immediately.

“Clint,” he heard Kate call, her tone laced with concern. He hesitated, battling the urge to retreat into the shadows of his own mind. The conflict within—between the archer and the ancient entity—was an ongoing struggle, and he didn’t want her to see the cracks in his facade.

Taking a breath, he tucked his bow away and opened the door. Kate stood there, her expression a mix of determination and worry. Her sharp eyes searching his, trying to pierce through the walls he had built. He knew exactly what she was asking without her even speaking.

“I’m okay, just… laying low,” he replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask. But as he spoke, he felt the familiar warmth of Set’s presence, a reminder of the power that flowed through him. When he used that power, golden hieroglyphics would appear on his skin, and his eyes would glow with an otherworldly light. It was a sign of the chaos within, and he was terrified of what it might mean for their future.

He wanted to reach out, to tell her everything—the battles he fought within himself, the love that both exhilarated and terrified him. But the words caught in his throat, tangled with the fear of what Set could do. For now, he would play the part of the loyal Avenger, but he knew that the shadows were closing in, and soon, he would have to confront the truth of his existence and the love that could either save him or consume him.

@scarredbookworm

[that-hawk-guy]

Clint nodded. “Sounds like a dangerous power to have. I won’t tell anyone. That’s…you can be hunted for that.”

Agony

@scarredbookworm

The sun slipped beneath the jagged skyline of the ravaged city, casting long, ominous shadows over the rubble-strewn streets. Clint Barton, known to the world as Hawkeye, perched on the edge of a dilapidated building, his keen gaze sweeping the area. The Avengers were in the thick of a mission to secure a stolen device that threatened global security, and every second counted.

“Clint, you’re good to go,” Natasha’s voice crackled through his earpiece, a steady presence in the chaos below. But his focus was elsewhere—on Kate. She was down there, leading their team with her signature blend of confidence and tenacity. The way she fought made him proud, igniting a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t shake.

Just as he prepared to vault down, an explosion erupted nearby, sending a shockwave that rattled the ground. Dust and debris filled the air, and instinct kicked in. “What just happened?” he barked, adrenaline surging.

“Ambush!” Kate shouted, urgency lacing her words. He could see her dodging debris, her eyes scanning for threats. Panic gripped him; he had to get to her.

“Kate, move!” he called out, but it was almost too late. From the swirling dust emerged an enemy soldier, weapon aimed directly at her. Time slowed to a crawl as Clint’s heart raced. He couldn’t let her get hurt—not on his watch.

In a split second decision, he launched himself forward, adrenaline propelling him into action. He let an arrow fly, but it felt like an eternity. The soldier’s grin was menacing, and Clint knew what he had to do.

With a desperate lunge, he shoved Kate out of the line of fire. She tumbled to safety, but in that same instant, pain erupted in his side. He gasped, the realization hitting him like a freight train—he’d taken the shot meant for her.

“Clint!” Kate’s voice rang out, filled with horror and urgency. He caught sight of her, scrambling to her feet, but everything around him began to blur. The world felt distant as warmth seeped from his wound, overwhelming him.

He fell to his knees, the ground rough against his palms. As darkness crept in, he locked eyes with Kate, wanting to convey everything he felt—the gratitude, the pride, the love. But words failed him as he fought against the encroaching shadows.

He hoped she’d remember him, that she’d carry on and fight with the same fire that had always inspired him. As the world faded to black, the last image etched in his mind was of her.