#Avengers: Infinity War fic

[thorst]

The End of the World and Junk • Earth 616 • Darcy Lewis & Thor Odinson (platonic) • Gen • Post Infinity War Canon Compliant • Hurt/Comfort • Darcy POV

Summary: All work and no play makes Darcy a dull girl. But after the Snap, what else is there to do? Go and help a friend in need, it turns out. One the newspapers are tearing to shreds after the battle that fractured the universe. One who had always seemed so indomitable that even after the end of the world, nobody thought to check in on.

Excerpt: Nothing had prepared Darcy for how boring the apocalypse would be. Most everything else, she'd expected. Loneliness was a given, the fear came and went, the sadness unavoidable. But all of these things had always seemed a natural part of the end of the world. Not jarring, but expected.

This was the third day running she'd knocked off from work, made her way home, and proceeded to spend a full five minutes stood frozen in her doorway, keys in hand, realising she had nothing to do and no one to see. For all that it was Friday night, she may as well have stayed at work.

She'd never felt more like Jane. And there was the sadness again.

( READ THE FULL WORK ON AO3 )

[wynnd-citrus]

Tony survives! Anything But “Mr Stark” Pt. 2 :3

[skippylov3rs]

Steve and tony, Avengers 2012.

You have the scene in mind ;)

[irondadfics]

Hi! Could you recommend some post-Infinity War fics where Avengers think Tony didn't lose anyone in the snap, but then he shows them who Peter was?

here you go! Happy reading!

Exposed by Multi_Fandom_Feels

"You lost nothing. I lost everything, everyone. You have no reason to be moping around like you’ve lived through tragedy.” Clint said, anger and envy dripping from his every word. Tony looked up, pain and anger burning in his eyes. “You have no idea what I lost.” - When Clint returns to the compound after the Snap, tensions are high. Tony is grieving, and no one knows why. No one knows what Tony lost that day, and Clint takes an issue with Tony.

You Didn't Lose Anything by lightningbugqueen

“I lost my son and I waited and wished for that snap to get me too, but it didn’t. And now I have to live in a world without my baby in it, and apparently I didn’t lose anyone! Apparently I am one of the lucky souls in the godforsaken world who didn’t lose his reason for living and you know what? That’s bullshit!”  ********************** Or when the Avengers don't understand that Tony lost someone too. Tw: death, grieving, etc.

Bring Him Back by fictionart

When Tony comes back from Titan, he doesn't say a word. This makes Clint really mad.

Hell on Earth by madasthesea

Prompt: please do post!IW where everyone lost someone in the snap, but on paper it looks like Tony didn't lose anyone (Rhodey is alive, I'm pretty sure Pepper and Happy are too), so Hawkeye or someone is pissed until they see Tony and realize he's lost just as much as them

too-bright-eyes and too-dark-eye-bags by Speeps

He’d tried to act as if nothing had changed. As if all he had to do was crank up his speakers, power up his workshop and haul his armour onto his workbench, and then everything would go back to normal. A sixteen year old with too-bright-eyes and too-dark-eye-bags would come bounding in, smile wide as he slung his backpack somewhere on the floor where he’d inevitably trip over it later on.  He eyed the faded backpack that sat lonely on its owner's bright blue chair. Dust clung to its seams.

every promise don't work out that way by LethalBookshelves

"His son." Everyone turns to look at the blue girl. She doesn’t flinch at the new attention, staring right at Clint. Then she turns her dark eyes to Tony’s. “He lost his son.” — Tony’s back on Earth, but not really. He left something—someone—back there on Titan. In his hands he holds the picture frame of him and Peter—young, happy, alive Peter—posing stupidly with cheesy bunny ears at the camera and holding Peter’s Stark Industries certificate upside-down, and he knows exactly what he’s lost. And as he watches his tears fall onto the glass, he knows that he will stop at nothing to bring Peter Parker back. This is the story that shows what happens when he succeeds.

i will restore all that was broken by killerqueenwrites

“He took my kids!” Clint shouts. “And he took mine!” Tony roars back. After watching Peter disappear, Tony is lost. People keep finding him.

[mymelodymia]

hello!!! can i request thor x daughter!reader where she is sixteen, its settled at infinity war and it's like the scene with Tony and Peter when she gets dusted?? if you want to, of course!

Im right here // dad!thor odinson x daughter!reader

Summary: thor comforts you while you are being blipped.

Warnings: injurys, angst, overall just too god dang sad

age: 16

A/N: aahhhh! Thank you for requesting darling!!

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

You threw yourself at the purple giant, he smacked you away like a fly. The impact knocked the breath out of you and you hit a nearby tree, groaning in pain.

You watched your father, thor, stab thanos in the chest and heard him quietly tell thor, "you should have gone for the head!" He said breathlessly before snapping his fingers.

A wave of nausea immediately hit you like a train. You barley caught a glimpse of thanos cowardly disappearing into a portal.

"Dad, i-i dont feel too good" you said holding your stomach, before falling to the ground, too which thor caught you (obviously)

"Dad.." you said as your breath picked up quickly. Your father cupped your cheek to comfort you and keep your eyes on his. He asked a series of questions that all represented "whats wrong?"

"Your hear with me right?" You asked desperately "im here, im right here" your father replied tearfully, looking deep into your big blue eyes.

One single, lonely tear fell down your cheek. Thor whipped it away with his thumb. His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion and fear.

He watched as your beautiful face slowly drifted away into thin air. He let out a pained sob as he looked down at his empty arms. He held them to his chest, he put his arms over his head as he continued to cry, curled up like a ball on the forest floor.

He had lost you, the one thing he cared about in life, his only light, your death was something that would follow him for a long time. He never truly got over it. Just distracted himself with video games and beer.

That is, until one day, 5 whole years after the biggest heartbreak of his long life, bruce and rabbit showed up.

What they said gave him hope...(avengers theme song playing)

+•°+*°•+

A/N: haha cliffhanger!i'm working on a part 2 with a happier ending 😄

Tags

@white-wolf-buckaroo // @animealways // @tonystark-au // @yummyangy // @zebralover // @carellmcu //

[korraofthereef]

WE LIVE BECAUSE OF HIM

synopsis : what if on the final recording Tony left for his family, he largely mentions that the entire reason he did everything he did was for his kids. Plural. As in Morgan and Peter Parker.

Except. . . No one knows who Peter Parker is…

it’s been a while, but Pepper misses hearing her late husband’s voice so she pulls out that one specific recording. The one that mentions a boy no one knows exists.

Should I work on this fic? Yes… no…?

[donaweasley]

I Will Find You

"I will find you."

With a promising squeeze of her hand, he had repeated the words "I will" before pushing her further into the escape pod, and fading away into his usual green glow.

That was the last time (Y/N) had seen him, or even heard from him. That was on the Statesman. When the ship with Asgardian refugees was under attack, (Y/N) had wanted to stay back and fight, for she was the commander of the army under Loki's rule. But her king - the only one she had truly been loyal to - had ordered her to mind the safety of the people escaping to Earth.

"We Odinsons will handle it here," he had said with his usual confident smirk.

But, for the first time in her life, she could not trust her king. Her fear - or maybe it was her instincts - had told her otherwise.

Several months ago, when Loki used to sit unchallenged on the throne of Asgard, he had described to her, in confidence, the ruthlessness of Thanos's ambitions, the extent to which this Titan could go in order to fulfill his dreams. And he was not the least ashamed to confide in her that he was scared of him; that even the thought of that monster scraped chills down his spine.

Despite all these, Loki had gone off to fight him. To save his people. To save his brother. All (Y/N) could do was beg the Norns for his safe return.

But apparently, the Norns did not hear her pleas. Thor had returned but without his brother, without the love of (Y/N)'s life. Without her betrothed.

New Asgard was built and, even though it took a lot of emotional effort and time, the survivors had gradually started calling it home.

But not (Y/N). Her home had a heartbeat. It had a warm embrace and caresses of soothing lips. Her home had magic radiating from his fingers.

And it was all gone. She had no home now.

----------

The story is complete! Read it here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was an excerpt from a new WIP. Couldn't wait to share it! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@finnishjerseygirl @modestlyabsurd @dryyoursaltyoceantears @evelyn-kingsley @huntress-artemis

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

I wonder sometimes if people realize that part of Stephen's search through the 14 million timelines was his effort to find any other way than for Tony to have to die.

That given the man he is, Stephen would willingly have made that sacrifice himself, which entailed an even more extensive of search of the timelines--but then he discovered that could never be, because he was the only Sorcerer in position on the battlefield to hold back that wall of water.

And that, after his search confirmed that it had to be Stark sacrificing his life,

Stephen made damn sure that Tony got every moment of happiness, fulfillment, and love in those five years with Pepper & Morgan. Because it was the right thing to do. And because that is the good man that Stephen is.

[aeterna-auroral-avenger]

Avengers: Infinity's End

Fic Summary - What if there were seven Stones instead of six? What if only two years had passed instead of five? What if the Time Heist was never really an option? What if Endgame played out a little differently yet the same as we know it?

This story has been in the works quite literally since I drove home from the cinema after watching Infinity War all the way back in 2018. It started off as a fix-it, no matter what the MCU outcome would be, and then I watched Endgame and fused my fix-it with the movie. So some of this will be familiar, and much will be brand new.

bio post (since this post will be pinned for a while) -> check here

Infinity's End Soundtrack || Infinity's End Original Score

Chapter List - Updated 9/16/2024

A Ghostly Plea

Multiverse Jumpers

Bittersweet Reunions

The Strange Butterfly Effect

Two Years Prior

The Decimation

Half Dreaming

More chapters under cut

8. A Vision in Darkness || 9. Meet and Greet and What the Hell Happened Here || 10. Search and Rescue || 11. A Bribe for Brunch || 12. Spoiler Alert (Sorta) || 13. The Hulk in Shirts || 14. They're Still Out There || 15. Time Travel? || 16. Nightmares, Oreos, and an Answer || 17. Full Team || 18. The Awakening || 19. Seven || 20. Still Worthy ||

[triscribeaucollection]

Can’t Breathe In

(SO. What if, way back during Infinity War, the group on Titan fighting Thanos managed to get the gauntlet away from him? Say, for example, Peter yoinks just a tad harder at the right moment, pulling it and the four already-retrieved Stones off. There’s still the problem of keeping them away from the purple bastard, so Strange opens up a portal back to Earth, tosses the kid, the gauntlet, and the Eye of Agamotto through for good measure, before he and Tony and the Guardians do their level best to put Thanos down for good.

One thing leads to another, all roads converge in Wakanda, and there ends up being a knock-down drag-out free-for-all fight between the present Avengers and the remaining Children of Thanos for six Infinity Stones in one room (Shuri having just enough time to cut Vision free of the Mind Stone before shit hits the fan).

Stuff is exploding, containers are breaking, half a dozen all-powerful artifacts tied to the foundations of Existence are flying through the air, and a certain Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Doofus manages to grab two at once.

Things get... interesting, after that.)

---

Peter is so screwed.

Even if he survives, even if he manages to change enough things to save the day for everybody else, he is so screwed, because he did the one thing Doctor Strange explicitly said not to and at this point it’s definitely going to kill him.

Just. Slowly. Because that’s Parker Luck for you.

Panting through the pain, Peter manages to finish scrawling out the last of his future-notes, doubled up at the very bottom of the page. Then he promptly drops the pencil and grasps at his head, whining faintly.

Some of it’s definitely a residual after-effect of accidentally grabbing two Infinity Stones at once and super accidentally activating them. The rest is a miserable combination of adjusting to no longer having his powers, adjusting to once again having asthma, and of course the bout of bronchitis his thirteen year old body happened to be dealing with when Peter’s sixteen year old mind got dropped into it.

Zero out of five stars, do not recommend.

A hand knocks on his bedroom door, and Peter barely bites back an instinctive whimper. “Y-yeah?”

“You okay in there, kiddo?”

And there’s the other thing. Ben is still alive.

Ben is alive, May isn’t a widow, and Peter really needs to make sure they both stay that way.

But he also needs to warn Mister Stark about everything that’s coming.

“I- I guess,” Peter says miserably, and it’s enough to make his uncle open the door and step inside. The kid’s heart stutters just at the sight of him: familiar concerned expression, rumpled well-worn clothes, brown hair that’s only just started to turn gray around the ears.

“Well, you must be feeling a little better, at least,” Ben mutters, glancing between Peter at his desk and the abandoned bed. “I’m ducking out to run a couple errands, kiddo, shouldn’t be gone too long. Want anything?”

He takes as deep a breath as he can manage at the moment. “Actually- yeah. Could you drop off a letter for me?”

Ben raises an eyebrow, mouth quirking up a little at one corner. “A letter?”

“Mmhm.” Peter reorganizes his papers real quick, then folds the four sheets in half before taping them closed. On top goes a post-it note, and one final scribble: for FRIDAY or Happy Hogan, please.

...after a moment’s consideration, ‘please’ gets underlined an extra time.

Ben’s second eyebrow has risen as well by the time Peter turns back, holding out the makeshift envelope. “Where am I taking this, kiddo?”

“Manhattan. Stark Tower.” He can see the startled blink, and hurries to go on, “It’s really important, Ben, please. If I could take it my- myself-” His lungs choose that moment to induce a coughing fit, and Peter practically doubles over as his whole body shakes.

One of Ben’s large hands settles between his shoulder blades, rubbing up and down until Peter can breathe again. “Okay, buddy,” his uncle murmurs, gently tugging the papers free of his grasping fingers. “Okay. Stark Tower. I can do that. Might take me an extra hour, though- are you going to be okay by yourself?”

Rather than speak and irritate his poor throat, Peter raises a thumb’s up.

Ben grins, just slightly, and ruffles his hair. “Go on back to bed, then. I’ll top off your water cup and head out.” A+ plan. Truly phenomenal. Peter drags himself out of the wobbly desk chair and shuffles over, dragging the same blanket he’d brought along with him in the first place. Toppling over onto his old mattress is easy; so is making an unintelligible noise of gratitude when Ben sets down a refilled plastic cup. And from there, Peter slowly... drifts... off.......

...only to lurch back upright in a panic, mere minutes later, because he addressed the notes to Friday.

FRIDAY, the AI who doesn’t exist yet. Instead of JARVIS, the one who does.

Several curse words drop from his mouth, as Peter scrambles to try and find his- his phone. Which he does not have yet. Because it was a Congrats On Starting High School present after he turned fourteen. Because of course.

Nothing for it, then. As miserable as he feels, Peter needs to get dressed, go after Ben, and swap out the incorrect post-it for a properly addressed one.

When asked, he will very much blame his current fever and illness to explain why he didn’t go out into the living room, and use the landline they still possess at this point in time to call his uncle and fix the error. But that’s later, and this is now, and Peter fumbles for his jeans and a mostly clean t-shirt.

---

Ben Parker would like to claim he isn’t a terribly gullible person. Nor a distrusting one, either. But this feels like a delicate balance between the two, as he takes the subway to cross from Queens over to Manhattan, and then walks a couple blocks to a particular nigh-infamous building. ‘Stark Tower’, ‘Avengers Tower’, either way, the gleaming structure easily attracts attention, even when you aren’t a rubber-necking tourist.

The sheaf of papers crinkles in his back pocket.

If Peter weren’t so sick, Ben probably wouldn’t be humoring him like this. Then again, if Peter weren’t sick, he’d more than likely have found a way to sneak off to Stark Tower himself to deliver the mysterious letter. Taking a deep breath, Ben steps through glass doors, and does his best not to hunch his shoulders or otherwise look nervous around so many people in business attire.

Even so, his thrift store outfit and old leather boots draw at least a few stares.

The young woman at the desk he goes up to at least smiles welcomingly, and Ben does his best to return the expression. “Hi there. This is going to sound weird, and I apologize in advance, but my kid’s sick and begged me to drop off a letter for him.”

“A letter for whom, sir?”

“Ah-” Ben pulls the folded papers from his pocket, miraculously managing to avoid losing the post-it note on top. “-Friday or Happy Hogan? He wrote down both their names, but I’m afraid I don’t know who either is.”

The woman’s face does something complicated when she sees the taped letter, but thankfully doesn’t laugh or scoff. “Well... Mister Hogan is Mister Stark’s head of security, but I’m afraid I haven’t heard of anyone named Friday who works here.” Something chimes on her computer screen, and she glances away to tap a quick reply.

Ben can’t help but blink. “Security? Huh. I would’ve figured a scientist or something...” Well, to be completely honest, he figured a feverish Peter would write directly to Tony Stark, considering how many Iron Man posters occupy the kid’s bedroom walls. But a security man just makes no sense at all.

“Pardon me, but what was your name, sir?”

“Parker. Ben Parker. Uh, like I said, I’m really just humoring my kid while he isn’t feeling well - I understand if you can’t actually get this to Mister Hogan-”

“On the contrary, sir,” a British voice says out of nowhere, making Ben jump. “I have already taken the liberty of summoning the appropriate individual to meet with you.”

He stares at the young woman, who looks startled but not nearly as confused. “That was Jarvis,” she quickly explains, “Mister Stark’s AI. Jarvis runs most of the building’s automatic functions, but- he doesn’t usually speak to guests without prompting.”

An uneasy feeling creeps up the back of Ben’s neck.

‘Jarvis’ doesn’t talk again, and the young woman directs him to wait by the end of the welcome desk for whoever’s coming down to meet him. It’s awkward, to be sure, especially as more people idly glance in his direction.

But then an elevator dings, and Ben turns, and shock overwrites literally everything else.

“Mister Parker?” Tony Stark asks, walking briskly towards him. Behind his glasses, the man’s eyes dart to either side of where Ben is standing, and they flicker slightly with something he would almost call disappointment. “Hi, welcome, sorry to startle you, but we’d better have this conversation in private. Jarvis said you’ve got a letter?” Wordlessly, Ben holds it up. Stark huffs, quickly plucking it from his fingers, but doesn’t bother to do anything besides tucking it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. Then he claps a hand on Ben’s shoulder, and steers him straight into the waiting elevator. “How’s Peter?”

The shock is still going strong. That’s the only explanation for why he blurts out the single word response, “Sick.”

Stark’s head snaps around. “Sick? With what? How bad is it?”

“Bronchitis,” Ben barely manages to say, most of his brain power currently occupied trying to reconcile the fact that Tony-Iron-Man-Stark apparently knows his nephew. “Not- not too bad, this time. How do you-?”

“J, you downloaded the kid’s medical files, right?” Stark asks the open air. 

“Yes, Sir,” the same disembodied voice as early rings out. “This would be Peter Parker’s fourth bout with bronchitis in the past three years. Records indicate he is taking appropriately prescribed medication and has been home from school for the past two days.”

“Good, that’s good.” Still, Stark’s expression is twisted unpleasantly, and Ben can only stare in a sort of detached fascination. “Double check that our pharmaceuticals division doesn’t have anything better for him, J.”

“Of course, Sir. I also need to inform you that we have received confirmation from Prince T’Challa of Wakanda, and reassurance that his family is taking the necessary precautions.”

“About time Pink Panther got back to us. Anything from Fury and our super-duper wonder spies?”

“They have yet to emerge from the secondary conference room. Mister Barton’s only communication at this point has been to request another round of takeout and coffee, as it looks to be, and I quote, ‘a long-ass day on top of a long-ass night’, Sir.”

Stark snorts. “Got it. Approve whatever he and Nat want. Anyone in the lounge?”

“Negative.”

“Right, take us there, then.” Sighing, the celebrity finally turns to actually face Ben. For a long moment, he only stares. “It’s different, seeing you in person. Good different. Peter actually say anything about the letter?”

“...no,” Ben manages to answer. “No, and I don’t- no offense intended, Mister Stark, but what the hell is going on?”

“Tony, please.” A flash of genuine pain crosses Stark’s face, before he returns to the bland observing expression. “And none taken. I’ve had a lot of people ask me that question since two this morning.”

The unease returns, this time in Ben’s stomach. At 2am, he and May were woken up by Peter shouting in his room - a fever dream turned nightmare, or so they assumed.

He doesn’t particularly care for the coincidence.

“So tell me, Ben Parker: do you believe in time travel?”

---

Peter is so, so screwed.

He left the apartment without his key. Without his shoes. And the longer he attempts to keep shuffling down the city sidewalk only in his socks, overwhelmed by noises and smells and the bright sun overhead, the more it becomes abundantly clear:

He messed up.

Majorly messed up. On top of his other major screw-up, and the more he tries to squint at street signs without the glasses he also forgot at the apartment, the more his head pounds and his nose runs and his chest hurts.

Eventually it’s just- too much. Peter coughs weakly into his elbow, and scoots into the first alley he can find.

---

Once, not so long ago, Ben didn’t think aliens or superheroes existed outside of books and movies. Time travel isn’t that far a leap in comparison.

But the more Stark keeps talking, the less Ben takes in, overwhelmed by a couple of things the celebrity breezed over, which stand out all the more for his lack of emphasis. First and foremost: Tony Stark cares about Peter. Knows him. Likes him. Invites him on weekend visits to work on personal projects. Illegally hacks medical databases to double check that the boy is getting appropriate medication for his current illness. Ben might actually laugh if it weren’t for the second thing:

He’s going to die.

Stark doesn’t outright say that, of course, but he tip-toes around the fact that he knows Peter well enough to care about him, and he knows May well enough to be wary of lying to her, but today is the first time he’s ever laid eyes on a living, breathing Ben.

Peter is going to be a superhero. May is going to be a widow. Peter caused some kind of magical accident that sent the Avengers back in time three years. May is going to be a widow. Peter apparently wrote out four pages of notes about incoming disasters for nothing, because Stark and his teammates have been scrambling for the past ten hours to prevent all of it and more.

May is going to be a widow.

Eventually, Stark must realize Ben’s only absorbing every fourth sentence or so, because he abruptly finds himself pushed down into a sleek leather chair, glass tumbler in hand. He doesn’t bother to check exactly what kind of alcohol he’s been given; it burns going down, and that’s good enough to restore some clarity to his overwhelmed mind.

First thing’s first. “Peter has superpowers?”

“He will. Probably. We know when and how he gets them, at this point it’s just a matter of making sure he’s in the right place at the right time. If he still wants- I mean, I’ll be honest, I’d probably sleep a little better knowing the kid isn’t swinging around Queens stopping muggers in the middle of the night, but I also know there’s only a point oh two chance he’ll willingly avoid becoming Spider-man again.”

Ben nods, swallowing down his initial reaction to that word-vomit. “Okay. Okay- next question.”

“Shoot.”

“How do I die?”

Stark promptly winces. “...alright, poor choice of words on my part. Look, Ben- can I call you Ben?” He nods. “Thanks- look. I don’t know all the details, but Peter definitely will, and between the two of us I can guarantee you won’t this time. Hell, I’ll get you a nano-tech bulletproof vest if I have to, but we’re going to make damn sure you live to a ripe old age no matter how many burned casseroles May tries to fix for dinner. Alright?”

Something in the back of Ben’s mind whispers that it can’t possibly be that simple, but he’s willing to take the other man’s words at face value for the moment. “Alright.”

“Sir? Captains Wilson and Rogers have returned, with two guests.”

“Hot damn. Okay, Ben- just hang tight for a minute, I need to say hi to Ruby Tuesday and her delinquent brother, and then we’ll see about getting Peter up here, yeah?” Ben doesn’t have a chance to respond before Stark is up and moving, heading for the elevator just as it slides open.

Captain Rogers is apparently that Captain Rogers, and Ben’s eyes widen so much he half-wonders if they might actually fall out of his face.

Steve-Captain-America-Rogers steps out of the elevator, face tired but triumphant, dressed in civilian clothes rather than his iconic uniform. That’s definitely The Shield slung across his back, though.

Behind him comes another man, dark-skinned with short hair, rolling his eyes as he finishes saying something to the people behind him. Both young, on the thin side - the girl’s hair is long and dark, the boy’s shifting from a similar color to silvery-white in a way that doesn’t look like a dye job. He’s nervous; she’s relaxed. Stark approaches them with stiff shoulders and a careful smile.

“Tony,” the girl says warmly, and half the tension drops away from Stark’s frame.

“Wanda,” he replies, stopping short of arm’s reach. “You’re okay?”

“I will be. I have Pietro again.” She reaches out, and catches the boy’s hand where he meets her halfway. “Ultron?”

“Shut down for good. Never even got the chance to wake up and cause trouble.”

The girl lets out a low, shaky sigh, squeezing her eyes shut as she nods. “Good. That is- very good. Vision?”

“We’ve got him. Sort of- no body for him to land in like the rest of us, obviously, but Cho’s putting one together, and there’s a copy of his consciousness tucked in with Jarvis right now.”

“One moment please, Miss Maximoff,” the AI says. A moment later, what sounds like the exact same voice speaks again, but with a great deal more emotion. “Hello, Wanda.”

“Viz,” she replies, a smile slowly spreading across her face. “You are alright?”

“I am much better, now that you’re here.”

Well didn’t that sound adorably sappy. Some small sound must escape Ben’s mouth, because a moment later the girl, Wanda, is looking right at him with a frown. “Who is this?”

“Ben Parker,” Stark promptly answers, shifting in place to make a sweeping gesture. “Better known as Spider-man’s uncle. He came to drop off some notes from the kid, who apparently didn’t realize we all got swept back in time thanks to his stunt with the Mind and Time Stones. Speaking of whom- Jarvis, have we got eyes on Underoos yet?”

“Yes, Sir. But I am afraid Peter Parker is not in his Queens apartment.”

Like a storm blowing out a candle, Stark’s face turns immediately grim. “Beg pardon?”

“Facial recognition picked him up eight blocks from his home building, moving slowly. Approximately nine minutes and thirty-four seconds ago, he entered an alleyway without any available security cameras. To my knowledge he has not yet emerged.”

Ben couldn’t say when exactly he got to his feet, but he suddenly finds himself standing next to Stark, hands clenched to keep from shaking. The other man meets his panicked gaze, and a flicker of understanding passes between them. “Show us, J.”

A holographic screen pops up. Footage plays. Ben barely pays any attention to Captain America stepping closer, too focused on the little figure helpfully highlighted by Jarvis.

(Peter isn’t even wearing shoes.)

“What, did he feel the need for a Delmar sandwich?” Stark grumbles, before the image zooms in. It becomes abruptly clear that Peter isn’t feeling suddenly better - his face is tight with desperation, mouth open to breathe, and every few steps he pauses to lean against a wall, eyes screwed shut. Ben feels a vice grip squeeze his heart, especially when his nephew staggers between two buildings, disappearing with his head down, arms tucked in close.

“Yeah, he’s not doing so hot,” the other man beside Captain America states.

“Understatement of the year, Wilson. Alright, everything else is on pause, I need to go get him-”

“I am faster.”

They all turn to stare at the boy still standing halfway behind Wanda. Even she looks surprised. “Pietro?”

He shrugs, a small nonchalant twitch, belied by the concern in his eyes. “I am faster. Show me a map from here to there, and I can pick him up without attracting attention.”

Ben glances at Stark. The celebrity offers back a flat smile, face carefully blank. “I mean, he’s not wrong. Speedy Gonzales here could probably run to the other end of Long Island and back in a couple of minutes.” There’s a moment’s hesitation, and then- “Your call, Mister Parker. He’s- your kid. First and foremost.”

...after a long, painful moment, Ben turns back towards Pietro. “Please.”

---

It feels like his life is just one big mistake after another.

Arguing with his uncle, distracting him at exactly the wrong moment, and paying for it with a funeral. Ignoring Mister Stark’s orders, almost causing all those people on the ferry to die. Not pushing harder to get a message through to Happy, almost allowing the plane to be stolen.

Grabbing the first two Infinity Stones to go flying past his face, in a room full of aliens trying to steal them and Avengers trying to protect them. Peter can still feel the burning in his hands, like catching a pair of electrified cables except dialed up to eleven, and every time he tries to take a deep breath it just gets worse. Not even the spider bite had caused him to hurt this much.

Wind whistles, short and sharp. A train going by- or maybe just a single car? No, wait, that didn’t make any sense-

“You are Peter, yes?”

Slowly, agonizingly, he manages to peel one eye partly open, and squints at the guy crouching in front of him. Familiar, but- not in the way that meant Peter had seen him somewhere before. “Y-yeah?”

“I am Pietro Maximoff,” the guy says. “Tony Stark and your uncle are upset you left home.”

Ah.

Well. On the one hand, Ben clearly made it to the Tower. On the other, Peter’s probably going to be in a lot of trouble for this. On the third- on a metaphorical third hand, Peter hurts. He can’t even bring himself to say so to this guy, Pietro- Maximoff, does that mean he’s related to Wanda- and instead whines, hands pressing tighter against his head.

“I am going to take you to them,” Pietro goes on. Peter lets his eye squeeze shut again, and jerks his head in a short, shallow nod. Hands carefully drag him out from his hiding place between two dumpsters, and then he’s being picked up, cradled close like a much younger kid. Normally he’d protest, insist that he’s sixteen- or thirteen- but honestly, Peter can’t bring himself to care.

There’s a distinct lurch, and a thousand sounds bombard his ears, horns and voices and wheels turning and doors opening and it’s way WAY too much too many too soon-

-and he checks out.

---

Ben doesn’t quite stare at his watch the entire time Pietro’s gone, but it’s a near thing. Steve Rogers takes a moment to introduce himself, along with Sam Wilson and Wanda Maximoff, but thankfully none of the Avengers try to force any strained small talk. Stark barely makes a sound at all - he keeps on staring at the blue-tinted holographic screens, eyes glued to the replaying clip of Peter stumbling into that alleyway.

It’s a relief when Pietro blurs back into existence in front of them, Ben’s actual physical nephew held securely in his arms.

But only for a split second.

Because Peter looks awful.

In the time since Ben left their family’s apartment, his kid has somehow managed to slide from pale to almost ghostly white, tremors wracking his entire body. He doesn’t react to Ben or Stark calling his name, eyes screwed shut and fists pressed hard against both ears, breathes coming short and shallow.

“Jarvis, vitals,” Stark orders, gesturing for Pietro to set his burden down on the nearest sofa. Peter whines when the young man lets go, but Ben slides right in, one hand carding through his nephew’s hair while the other presses flat against his scrawny chest. He doesn’t pay attention to whatever the AI relates to Stark; there’s just Peter, and his ragged breathing, and his pounding heart.

“Okay, kiddo,” Ben murmurs, soft but hopefully loud enough for the kid to hear. “We can make it through this, and you’re going to get better, if only so I can ground you until you’re eighteen.”

Peter’s next breath comes out more like a huff than a gasp, and one corner of his mouth turns up, just slightly.

“Only eighteen?” Stark leans a little over Ben’s shoulder, not quite intruding though it’s pretty clear he’d like to. “I’d make it twenty-five, at least.”

“M- Mis’er S’ark-”

“Hey, kid. Fancy seeing you here, when you should be tucked up at home in a nice warm bed. What’s the idea, huh, giving me and your poor uncle a matching pair of heart attacks?”

Peter coughs weakly, eyes still closed. “Wrote- wrong. Fuh-friday, not- Jarvis.”

Ben sees Stark stiffen in the corner of his eye, and holds back a sigh. “Friday’s the name of another AI?”

“Back-up for Jarvis,” Stark mutters. “I would’ve switched to her in a few days, if we were still following the original timeline.”

That manages to make Peter’s face scrunch up with confusion. “-what?”

“We all came back in time, kid. Whatever the hell you did with those Stones, they picked up every Avenger plus a few bonus people and tossed our minds back to the good old days before we’d even heard of Thanos. Possibly those Guardian idiots too, but we haven’t been able to make contact with them yet.”

“Oh,” Peter croaks, finally cracking his eyes open. “Good?”

Rather than answer, Stark sucks in a startled breath, and Ben feels his stomach swoop unpleasantly. From the abrupt silence behind them, where the others had been murmuring amongst themselves, he figures everybody’s equally stunned.

Peter’s eyes are glowing.

The kid just stares upward for a moment, obviously aware something’s wrong. “...Mister Stark? I don’t- feel so good.”

To Be Continued...

[starkslove101]

CHAPTER 23: ''Here I am alone between the heavens and the embers''

~SONG TO LISTEN TO WHILE READING (If you want of course):  In the stars - by Benson Boone~

Tony.

My ears were still ringing as I was staring up at the ceiling, tears streaming down my face. The empty bottle of whisky fell out of my hand, onto the ground with a hard thud, some of it spilled on the floor.

I couldn’t move, my body was numb and it hurt to breathe. This couldn’t be happening. “Ms. Potts is at the door, sir” J.A.R.V.I.S.’s voice echoed through the intercom in my bedroom. “Shall, I let her in?” J.A.R.V.I.S. suggested. I didn’t answer. So Pepper was able to override his system and walk in.

Her heels clicked on the marble tiles, causing me to grab my forehead. My head was falling apart. She stopped at the head of the sofa, staring down at me, judgment eminent on her face. It was mixed with a sorry look on her face, however. A big sigh left her lips as she crouched down and grabbed the bottle off the floor putting it down on the table with a hard thud. “Tony” she sighed. “You have to get up now,” she said, her voice stern. I ignored her. No muscle in my body had the energy to move.

Every time my heart pumped, I hoped it be my last as I could not fathom the pain I was feeling. No amount of alcohol could numb this pain.

Pepper got upset and grabbed my arm. She pulled me up into a sitting position but I had no intentions of moving or being cooperative so, I just sat up, slumped like a sack of potatoes. “You have to get ready now, your flight leaves in an hour” I leaped for the bottle of whisky and chugged the last of it down.

She got tired of me just ignoring her and she grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and dragged me to the adjoining bathroom, into the shower. I came down with a thud. Before I could protest she had opened the faucet and cold water came down pouring all over me. As I was sobering up, my emotions hit me all at once. I started crying. “I don’t-” I cried. Pepper sighed and crouched down next to the shower door.

“Tony, you have to go” She turned off the faucet. I was leaning up against the wall behind me. “Your flight leaves in an hour”

“I can’t” I sighed. “She can’t be gone, Pepper.” she had a hurt look on her face. It was only then, that I noticed that she was fully dressed in black. She noticed my eyes darting over her clothes and then they met hers.

“You’re not alone” She squeezed my shoulder and stood up. “Now, go shower. I’ll try to push your flight for another thirty minutes” she said, her voice stern, again. It took everything in my body for me to get up and shower.

About an hour later I stepped onto my jet. My tie felt way too tight around my neck, almost like it was suffocating me, so I kept fiddling with it until I just couldn’t take it anymore and took it off. Much to Peppers's protests.

“It’s not like she’ll see it” I spit. Pepper’s breath hitched as her hand clutched her necklace. I walked to my seat and sat down. I was left staring at the empty seat in front of me. A big lump formed in my throat.

The stewardess came in asking If I needed something. “Yeah whiskey” Pepper protested but I shushed her. The woman went and got the beverage. When she put it down on the table. “Can you leave the bottle too?” she put on a soft smile, but she had a sorry look on her face.

I caught a glimpse of Pepper, looking at me with a very disappointed. But I couldn't care less. A big sigh left her lips as she kept toggling on her phone. I think she had given up on keeping me sober. I took the glass of whiskey and drank it like a shot—the residue burning in my throat.

It wasn’t so long before Pepper shook me violently. “Tony, we’re almost there. We’re landing soon.” I groaned as my head was pounding and the light was bright. She handed me a glass of water and some aspirin for me to take before we touched down.

“You’re too good for me, Pepper. You shouldn’t putting up with me” I sighed.

“It’s my job, Tony. You pay me to do this” she said. They weren't exactly the comforting words I needed to hear. But I guess I deserved that. I haven’t been the greatest boss or nicest person. And All of that didn’t matter since the one light in my life was gone.

Ransom’s death wasn’t something I saw coming and it was something I had trouble coming to grips with. Even though everyone told me that she fought till her last breath. But that her injuries were too severe for her to recover from. Even for someone as strong and resilient as she was. My eyes burned when I thought of her, laying there in that hospital bed as the heart monitor flatlined. The feeling of Thor and Ahmed holding me back, as they tried to fight back tears, didn’t leave my head as it kept playing repeatedly in a loop. Followed by the look of her pale and bruised face before the nurse put a blanket over her body covering her.

I couldn't believe she wasn’t here anymore. The light of my life, my better half. I had failed the one thing I promised my father. I couldn’t even protect her.

I was supposed to protect her…

With that thought, I got off the plane. I was wearing sunglasses, to try and hide my horrible hangover and my red puffy eyes. I was greeted by an army, comepletly dressed in black, with sad faces. 

Next part

[wynnd-citrus]

Tony survives! Anything But “Mr Stark” Pt. 1

[sarahrogersevans]

Came Back For You- Nomad Steve Rogers xreader Fan Fic

Summary: Steve came back home from Wakanda to see Y/N because he missed her and didn’t wanna be away from her any longer

Warnings: angsty and fluffy, mild swearing, not many warnings

~Steve’s POV~

I was really glad to be coming back home to see Y/N though being in Wakanda was amazing but I didn’t wanna be away from Y/N anymore, I missed waking up next to her every morning. I got to her apartment after Bucky dropped me off and he looked at me and said “are you sure coming back here is a good idea Steve? If anyone sees we’re back we’ll be arrested.” I got my bag and walked out of the quinjet and patted Bucky on the shoulder and said “don’t worry Buck just go and lay low somewhere we’ll figure this out I’ll see you later ok?” Bucky nodded and closed the door to the quinjet and I watched him fly off and went inside Y/N’s apartment building and found her apartment number and knocked on the door hoping she still lived here. I haven’t seen her in a year and I was really nervous that she might not remember me or that she would be with someone else by now.

~Y/N’s POV~

*Knock Knock Knock*

Oh, who’s that?? I wasn’t expecting anyone to come over to my place tonight, I got up from the couch and went to answer the door and I was shocked when I saw who was at the door. “Oh my god!.. Steve?! What are you doing here???” Steve smiled at me and said “Hey doll, I missed you and came back for you. It’s so good to see you Y/N you are as beautiful as I remember.” I hugged Steve and said “I missed you so much Steve, I’m so glad you’re home by the way I love your beard it looks so good on you.” Steve blushed and rubbed the back of his neck and said “oh yea? I think I look like a mess but I’m glad you like it sweetheart.” I smiled and Steve moved closer to me and said “I hope it’s ok that I wanna kiss you?” I cupped his face in my hands and said “yea of course it is Steve I miss your kisses.” Steve leaned in more and kissed me and I got pinned against the wall and Steve whispered “I worried coming here that.. you’d move on after I left and that I’d lose you but I’m glad I didn’t doll you’re my everything and I love you I never forgot about you, I missed waking up to you every morning.” I cried and hugged him not wanting to let him go. “I never moved on Steve.. I never wanted anyone else I love you, you’re the love of my life I’ll always be here I promise you ok?” Steve kissed me and said “This is why I love you Y/N, I’m never letting you go again and no matter what it takes nothing will keep me away from you I swear.” We just stood in the middle of the living room hugging like we were never apart I loved having Steve back in my life and I’m glad he felt the same.

I couldn’t get over how amazing Steve looked with his long hair and his beard, I ran my fingers through his hair and he looked into my eyes and said “what are you thinking about honey?” I smiled and said “I just really love your long hair and your beard, I love your new look, I’m glad you’re home Steve I really missed you.” Steve kissed my forehead and said “I’m never leaving again I promise doll I’m here.”

I was getting tired and Steve noticed and said “why don’t we lay down on the couch Y/N, you need the rest.” I nodded after yawning and he helped me sit down with him and I laid my head on his chest and cuddled up close to him and said “Steve.. I’m scared if I close my eyes that you’ll be gone.” Steve rubbed my back and said “don’t be scared doll I’m gonna be right here the whole time, take a nap ok? I love you.” I felt better after he pulled me closer and I closed my eyes to Steve playing with my hair gently.

Hey lovelies!!! I thought I would do a Nomad Steve fan fic 😁💙 I hope you all enjoy xx

Taglist:

@lokiandbuckysdoll

@jessybarnes

@chrisevansdaughter

@writersblog20

@delicatecoffeepeanut

@sunshine-on-my-mind

@anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount

@vrittivsanghavi

@imyourbratzdoll

@marvelstarker-mha98

@acklesgurl-love

@nana1000night

[carsonian]

Avengers film posters (ish) but it's just Steve and Tony and the things they've said to each other that I registered as turning points. A few of these I feel mirror the other's experiences either in parallel or as a foil. These boys are complex, got multitudes & whatnot

[bedlamsbard]

running through plot ideas for The Next Big Fic in a "well everyone ELSE did this ten years ago but I haven't done it yet" *shows up ten years late with Starbucks* kind of way

[lunarbuck]

This song is literally perfect for a bucky one shot! Probably a sad and angsts one 🥺👀

Thank you so so much for the request!!

this song is legit so sad 😭 i'm sorry in advance y'all

Our Song

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader (any race)

WC: 977

Summary: nothing is the same after the snap

Warnings: THIS IS SAD!! ANGST NO HAPPY ENDING, takes place post-infinity war… , mentions of death and loss, grieving, referenced death

A/N: legit cried while writing this.... and yeah i said no happy ending but in reality, we all know what happens during end game so like,,, you catch my drift? all I'm saying is that eventually things will get better but they don't in this one shot lmao

main masterlist | bucky one shot masterlist | requests are OPEN

The dog tags around your neck sway and clink as you climb through your bedroom window onto the roof. 

The moon is high in the sky on this beautiful cloudless night, and you can’t help but stare at it. 

You find your way to the middle of the roof and lay down flat, pressing yourself against the plaster. Your fingers mindlessly fiddle with the dog tags, running the pads of your thumbs over the words pressed into the metal.

It’s only been a week, and it still doesn’t feel real.

Wakanda is nearly silent tonight, still mourning all the lives lost. It happened so quickly. You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

You weren’t even there to make sure he wasn’t in pain; you were cooped up with a few families in town, staying safe.

Your mind constantly replays what you think happened, the way he faded away in bits and pieces like sand in the wind. He must’ve been so confused, so scared.

You’d met Bucky a year ago after his deprogramming ended. You worked in the palace, and he often visited T’Challa and Shuri. It was inevitable that your paths would cross.

Bucky was perfect. So kind and caring, he would go to the ends of the earth for you. He’d pluck the stars from the sky; he’d keep the world from turning. And you’d do it all for him too if only he asked.

“I’m so sorry,”   Steve choked, face twisted in pain.

“No,” you whispered. “No, no, no.” Arms wrapped around you from behind as your legs collapsed, slowing your descent. You couldn’t breathe. There was no more air in the world.

Steve fell to the floor in front of you and placed his hands on the sides of your head. His tears cleared tracks in the dirt on his face.

You still couldn’t breathe.

“He- he- he put up a good fight.” The arms holding you released you, and you threw yourself at Steve, burying yourself in his chest.

He held you tightly, shaking with his sobs.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye.” Steve held you tighter, and you gripped him harder like you were the only thing tethering the other to earth.

Steve didn’t speak for a long time, only whispering, praying, “‘Till the end of the line. ‘Till the end of the line. ‘Till the end of the line.”

‘Till the end of the line.

You struggle to take a full breath as tears spill from your eyes. Your chest shudders, your heart aches. The Wakandan grieving process is a celebration of life. It recognizes the pain but reminds everyone of the beautiful life the individual lived.

As you suck in gasping breaths, you try to remember Bucky the way he’d want you to remember him.

Smiling, laughing, happy. You try to remember the way he’d wink at you after telling a dirty joke or making you blush. The way he’d wrap his arms around your waist and lift you up, spinning you around. The way his lips felt pressed against yours, soft and sweet.

You can practically see his eyes in the stars, gleaming down at you.

Even though it’s difficult, you push yourself up, standing and stretching your limbs to the sky. You pull out your phone and scroll through your playlist until you find the song you’re looking for. 

Won’t you lock me in your heart 

And throw away the key

Cause I love you forever

Through eternity

You sway with the breeze, holding the phone close to your chest. Images of Bucky’s bright eyes and beautiful smile flash through your mind at the sound of the song the two of you would dance to nearly every evening.

He’d spin you around the kitchen and sing along, always the hopeless romantic.

You know that even though he’s gone, he’s still yours. He’s still your knight in shining armor, your beautiful Bucky. And you’re still his, his best girl. But it’s hard to convince yourself that as the weight of his absence presses down on you.

You don’t know how you’ll move on, how you’ll ever open yourself up to someone like you did with Bucky. There’s no one out there like him, no one for you now that he’s gone.

Today, Steve left Wakanda to head back to New York. He offered to bring you back with him, but you can’t bear to leave behind the place where you’d met Bucky, where you’d fallen in love. You can’t fathom living in a world without Bucky, one where he’s not at your side.

Each night this week, you’ve repeated the ritual. You hold on to whatever you have left of him, a ratty old henley, his dog tags, a hairband. You listen to the song even though it tears you in half, and you stay up all night. Each night, you wait for a sign, something… anything that will tell you that he’s okay.

Tonight, it still hurts, but the song brings you a new comfort. The stars shine down at you, and this time you can see his eyes, his smile. His soul, etched out in the constellations. 

He’s there, just harder to see. You can live with that.

I have searched for a lifetime

For the one I could call my own

Now I found you, my darling

And I’ll never be alone

Every night, you dance with the ghost of what used to be, what you used to have. Maybe one day, the pain will lessen. Maybe one day, it’ll all make sense. Today is not that day; today doesn’t need to be that day. All you know is that tonight, Bucky is with you in the stars, and that’s all you can ask for.

We’ll be sweethearts forever

Through eternity

—

Every night I’m dancing with your ghost.

Every night I’m dancing with your ghost.

please message me to be added to a taglist! mucst be 18+

Everything tags: @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @emi11ie @paulasocean @silverfire475 @lovingchoices14 @nekoannie-chan @jen-with-a-pen

All Bucky taglist: @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @hawsx3 @meetmeatyourworst @harrysthiccthighss @goldylions @late-to-the-party-81 @luxeavenger @cloudyfeel @searchf0rtheskyline @keliiii @urmom4130

strikethru means I couldn't tag you for some reason :/

p.s. i intend to write a part 2 bc I want them to have a happy ending!!!

songs referenced in this fic:

Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Alex Sloan

Through Eternity: Jerry Fuller