You can't roller stake in a buffalo herd

Fic: The Tiniest Avenger

Fandom: Marvel movie-verse (genderbent)

Rating: PG-13 (for mild language) 

Summary: Toni Stark lives in the land of giants. 

Notes: This came from a fem!vengers discussion with Cait about what they would look like as girls, and how everyone tends to make Tony still be pretty tall and well toned. But since he’s the smallest (Bruce might be smaller when he’s not Hulked out but ignoring that), I thought it would be kind of amusing if he was just this tiny little girl. Thus, this ficlet/doodle combo.

Also, someone needs to take both Word and Photoshop away from me immediately.

“

Toni actually doesn’t notice it at first. It’s never really been an issue for her. After all, up until after the Afghanistan unpleasantness, which led to the Iron Man business and then SHIELD involvement, her life was sort of normal. Not normal in the sense that she had parents who worked the usual nine to five jobs and came to all her ballet recitals and then she eventually went to college with kids her own age and continued on to an average job where she actually had to think about where her money was coming from and going. Nothing like that, but Toni had been a normal—if a bit admittedly egotistical and eccentric—business woman surrounded by other business people.

But now that she’s on the Avengers team, surrounded by extraordinary people, Toni realizes that she is really freaking short.

She gets her first inkling of it standing next to Steph one day. Captain Stephanie Rogers, Toni knows, started out life as even more of a shrimp than Toni, but Project: Rebirth had turned her into a five-foot-ten, golden haired Amazon. But the thing about Steph is that you don’t notice it until she’s in full costume, going all Captain America on the bad guys’ asses. Because when she’s in civilian mode, she’s a calm, sort of shy presence. She stays out of the way unless something requires her attention. And it’s usually not a problem with Steph until Steph starts doing things like picking her up to drag her away from her workshop or up to dinner or bed.

Toni’s never felt weird about being small standing next to Hulk, because, holy crap. You’d have to be the size of the Empire State Building to not feel small standing next to that mass of green muscle and ovary rage (she figures that the Hulk is what guys see when the women in their lives are PMSing).

But Jesus, Toni starts to notice that it’s just everyone around her. Clio Barton’s a good head taller than her, and obviously Tasha Romanoff’s way up there in the clouds.

Toni really doesn’t think too much about it. When she’s in her armor, it adds a good five inches to her height and makes her seem thicker. So, it’s not a problem until the Asgardians start bringing it up every time they see her. Loki refers to her as miniscule, as a puny mortal, and Toni knows the tall, voluptuous woman means it physically, not just in that usual way that villains go off. Sif and the Warriors Three treat her like she’s a freaking toy dog that needs to wear a sweater to survive even in temperate Malibu and can’t walk so it has to be carried in a purse, and Thor (now there’s a woman who’s got size. Thor is six-foot-three, hard muscled, and even more golden than Steph) constantly refers to Toni as her “tiniest friend.”

It’s insulting. And Toni will no longer stand for it.

The next time the Avengers are called out, it’s to aid the Fantastic Four against Dr. Doom who’s made some deal with Kang. Steph calls for the team to assemble, and Toni runs down to her shop, shouting over her shoulder that she’ll meet them there. The others pause for a moment in confusion, because when she’s in the Tower, Toni usually has immediate access to her armor all the time.

But they don’t have time to wonder and wait, as downtown is getting pretty trashed. The Avengers arrive on scene and jump into the fray of Doom Bots. Steph’s tossing her shield around left and right. Hulk and the Thing are throwing cars, using Mrs. Fantastic as a slingshot. Clio and Tasha are covering long range sniping, and Thor’s calling down the thunder.

Suddenly, a huge hunk of metal falls from the sky right into the middle of the fray. It’s red and gold and absolutely giant, a good ten stories tall at least. The entire battle stops. Johnnie falls clear out of the sky and has to be scooped up by one of her brother’s forcefields before she crashes into the whatever-it-is.

They’re all—Doom and Kang included—staring up at it dumbfounded. It looks like something from that Transformers cartoon that Darcy made Steph and Thor watch—he said under no uncertain terms should they watch the live action movie because it sucked, but Steph figures those robots might look like this in real life.

Their comms crackle with Clio’s voice, asking what in the hell’s going on down there, and Steph isn’t sure how to respond until the thing’s speakers flare up, and Iron Man’s mechanical voice declares, “Yeah, who’s short now, bitches? Bring it!”

Steph’s reaction is involuntary. Her red-gloved hand smacks to the middle of her forehead, slowly dragging down over her face. “Toni, no,” she whines.