#It's about time Tony saw something in space that wasn't death and destruction

[wristic]

Yellow Light (Part 3)

Pairing: Loki X Reader, Thor X Reader, Tony and Thor being bros Word Count: 2100 Warnings: Tony Stark has no time for your flat Earth theories. (None)

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-

The Bifrost came to its final flash of light. In one last blink there stood Thor and Iron Man at it’s gates. Ripping his helmet off, Tony had both eyes blown wide open. Thor and Heimdall let him spin himself dizzy taking the golden dome in with nothing but space beyond it. The second his mouth finally opened, it didn’t stop. “How does this all work? This can’t be the whole structure to teleport across the universe. What kind of energy does it use? Who built it? You guys live for some thousand odd years right, they still alive? Can I talk to them-they still got schematics-c-can I see those schematics?”

At first Thor looked around confused, exchanging that look with Heimdall. Completely straight faced, he chimed, “It’s magic.”

Tony gave a mock laugh. “Okay, but, all those questions.”

Thor shrugged. “It’s magic. What else could it be?” They stared each other down as Thor walked by him, breaking into a cheeky smile.

As he reached the door Heimdall spoke. “You should know. While Loki has his ways of hiding from my vision… there is an awfully beautiful city reborn on Jotunheim.”

Thor and Tony shared a look of concern but Heimdall only smiled. Stepping to him Thor asked in wonder, “Overnight?” 

Heimdall nodded. “Been a long time since Jotunheim bore a single light in it’s darkness.”

While the news should have been uplifting, Thor sped off. Or tried to.

Tony went to chase him down, but his coming interrogation stopped short as he came face to face with a magnificent golden city, glowing like a beacon against the night surrounding. The wind knocked out of him. Eyes finding the walkway, Tony tapped his toe onto the crystal bridge. It was ever-shifting in a rainbow of colors, rushing to the Bifrost like it was siphoning power from the city. With no rails, he tiptoed near the edge, finding an ocean below. Yet at the edge of the ocean it rolled and waved over and edge into the abyss. Cooling his panic when he realized he was missing an extra set of steps, Thor turned back to see Tony’s wonder.

Snapping back when Thor drew close enough, “Flat. Flat? Your world is flat?” Tony asked sounding more offended than in need of clarification.

Thor couldn’t resist. “Earth isn’t?”

“We have both flown around it many times!!”

Pointing and leading his finger around the perimeter of Asgard he agreed, “Yes, in a biiiig circle.”

“No! No! In a Sphere! In-in-in a-how are we even standing here!? We should be getting crushed by gravity standing so close to the edge… unless… is… is this man made? Is this a man-made city in space?”

Chuckling at his friends hysterics, Thor grabbed Tony's shoulders and lead him back to the center of the bridge. “We’ve a friend to find, and there is a library that can answer your questions better than I can. With certain restrictions of course.”

“Oh of course, wouldn’t want humans traveling the galaxy and making their own space cities.”

About halfway down the long walk Tony broke his wonder to ask. “I know your brother is crazier than a bag of cats but, you wouldn’t have the faintest idea of why he took Coldsnap would you? Building a city on Jotunheim? I thought he hated the place. Didn’t he kill the king there or something?”

Thor gave a half smile to the nickname. But remembering your name, remembering you were in estranged danger with his brother wiped it away. “No one can ever claim to know what Loki thinks. I’m sure it’s a complicated plan. Building a whole city… she wasn’t powerful enough to do that on Earth was she?”

“No. I would think the excursion would kill her before getting anywhere near a city. But it's possible the change in environment takes a lot of the resistance off her.” 

Thor shook his head, thoughts of the worst already tormenting him. “It’s a wonder what Loki could convince or gamble with the Frost Giants in exchange for someone who can reshape their world.”

“Okay, hang on.” Tony held out a hand to stop the rush to the capital. Pointing back he asked, “Didn’t Prince of the Forest back there just say where she is? Why are we not going there now?”

Shifting with embarrassment, Thor rambled. “Well you see, there was this whole thing with, me trying to start a war and then, as you said, my brother betraying and killing their King. So we must get there as soon but as undetected as possible. Lest, you know, war.” Sighing a little frustration he added his own hope. “Y/n is stronger than she looks. I have no doubt she can stand her own against Loki or the Frost Giants.”

Getting a suspicious star down from Tony threw him off. “What?”

He was hesitant, sucking in a sharp breath before forcing out his concern. “So… what is between you and Y/n exactly?” 

Thor was shocked into a small mumble. “What? Nothing-”

“Please. With me it was, ‘Hello Tony nice to see you again’. With her it was ‘how about I stay seven hours for a drink.”

Desperate to avoid the conversation he teased. “You jealous?”

“Hurt,” Tony guilt tripped in return. “A little hurt is what I was. I wouldn’t have minded being invited to a hangout, being in the same exact building and all.” Thor chuckled, but his stomach was still dropping. “You can’t tell me you didn’t get in some trouble for that. Stumbling in at two in the morning smelling of booze and another woman? If I did that to Pepper I would be greeted home with that really pleasant, ‘There better be a good reason or I’m going to murder you’ smile.”

The tone was making his hair stand on end, the thinly veiled accusation an insult, “I am faithful to Jane.”

“I don’t doubt it. I’m just saying what it looks like, and what it looks like, is probably what it looks like to Jane also.” 

Thor stepped forward bristling with offence. “And what does it look like, exactly? Say it plain.”

Instead of backing down, a scoff escaped Tony. “Do I have to say anything?”

Thor wanted to stay angry, keep defending himself and his honor. But what was there to defend when actions always spoke louder than words? Instead his mind strayed, worried what Jane really thought when he came home last night only to leave after years of being gone. Sighing, he shot Tony a terse look before turning and walking on. 

Loki couldn’t stop staring into his hand. He sat in the shadows of your icy and glittering tower, filled with few and sparse things he imported from an old hideout. Even in the darkness he could see it’s pale almost ghostly complexion. It was hard for him not to think if it were blue, he would blend right in, disappear in the ice and stone like his true lineage evolved to do. But he couldn’t will it to come, too set in old fears and denials. Frost Giants, terrorists of Asgard, barbarians born of a hell climate. No one of his adoptive world, and as it seemed of his birth world would have seen the shifting as a cherished thing. Yet in your ignorance you sought a sort of kinship with it.

Glancing to you, sleeping in a bed ironically big enough to fit a giant, he scoffed. What would your reaction be when coming face to face with a real Frost Giant? Would you think the colors so beautiful anymore?

You began to stir, pushing the blankets down like you were too hot. Lifting your hand you began rubbing your eyes. Loki took that as a queue to come to you, sit beside you. Brushing a gentle hand down your neck, Loki helped you wake. A soft grin came to him watching you tense and relax into the touch. “How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy.” Your eyes lazily fluttered open. He liked the way you looked at him when he could do things no one else ever had, the way you worshiped him for it. It was enough to make him want to lavish you in a stream of unending gifts, take you to far off places, give you everything your heart desired if only you looked at him with that same reverence every second of everyday.

Reaching out, you were hesitant at first before running your fingers through his raven hair. Marvel glittering in your eyes, delicately you let every strand sift through your fingers. The action was so intimate it was hard not to play on, to cave under your needs. Leaning toward you, he waited a moment as your face dropped in apprehension. But as he continued to your lips, taking a slow kiss, you didn’t stop him. Your fingers pet through his hair one last time before timidly holding him to you.

It was like you’d forgotten how close you could get, stepping back to a reserve you were dangerous to him. With a smile he scooted his body closer to yours, running his hand up your side to cup your cheek. Yet that didn’t seem to ease you, feeling stiff and finding it hard to look at him. With a bitter smile, he watched his dark thumb caress your cheek. “Are you just now remembering I’m the bad guy?” 

Taking a strangled sigh you admitted, glancing around at the dome tower you created. “I am feeling a touch more sober...”

Refusing to remove himself, to let up his contact or comfort you with a more familiar appearance, Loki tilted his head and asked, red eyes seeming to glow against the blue light. “And how does sober you feel about all this?”

Sliding out from under him, you sat up and looked around. Your features hardened with conviction. “I don’t regret coming here and making this.”

Spinning a finger in the silken sheet bunched on your thigh, he asked “You regret being with me?” Watching you, he couldn’t tell if it was anger or pain that filled you. In need of a real answer, he pushed even if it would hurt. “Regret that it was me to take you here? To touch you so… carnally?”  

Your look to him was chiding, like he was only teasing you. Loki shrugged. “Do you regret me touching you?”

The look fell, unable to look at him. “No.”

“No?”

With a slow touch, you took his hand into yours, letting the connection rest in your lap. Your thumb trained alone his as you shook your head. In one word you echoed all your pent up loneliness inside, “No.”

Loki savored this quiet moment from you. So exposed, so willing and malleable to him. Such a creature of limitless power, turned weak under his slightest touch. Sitting up he pulled your face to him. You ran a hand down his chest and playing with the armor inlaid with leather. He whispered your name, getting your attention enough to look him in the eyes. There was shame in you, frustration for your own hunger that had you caving to his company without a fight. But he smiled to the song of your desperation. 

That song suddenly turned into a very real long guttural roar of a beast that near shattered the walls. While you tensed like a brick, Loki pondered aloud, “Well that seems a bit excessive.”

“What seems a bit excessive!? What was that!?” You shrieked before it came again.

“The locals. I figured they’d come around sooner or later, I just didn’t think with a pet.”

You jumped up out of the bed, rushing to the window and pushing the large glass doors open. The wind whipped in, taking you a moment to adjust your eyes and gasp. Loki came up behind you to see a familiar large lumbering beast with horns, bouncing and scuffling the edge of your city in anticipation. Beside it was a dozen or so Frost Giants, all still and bathed in the darkness, only the glow of the city to reveal their shape. Putting his hands on your shoulders, he asked with a smirk, “Ready to make some friends?”

[bleufrost]

There's Just Time - A Loki x reader Fanfic

Prologue

Summary: You were an explosion waiting to happen who found love in the arms of a hurricane. Loki saw you as an angel that calmed his demons. For you, he was a savior that taught you to trust your abilities, yourself, and others. When he died, you were broken. You clung to any hope possible and watched as it all fell away. With nothing left, stories from your youth flooded back of a mysterious force that controlled time and space, and you knew that you would do anything to see him again...even if that something meant teaming up with the Time Variance Authority to capture the man you love.

Words: 1,297

Warnings: grief, mentions of self harm, death

We know full well there's just time

So is it wrong to dance this line?

If your heart was full of love

Could you give it up?

The day you had found out about his death, a huge hole was ripped open in your heart. It was selfish, but you couldn’t stop the screams from leaving your mouth. Thor needed you to be strong, but you just couldn't do it. Before Loki, you were lost in a world full of directions. He guided you, allowed you to choose your own path, and decided to walk it with you. Tears flowed until you became too weak to stand. It was never supposed to happen. The thought was illogical, but you couldn't stop thinking it: It should have been you.

Loki had just begun to understand his true potential. He had finally stopped hiding behind harsh words and facades of grandeur. It had taken a lot of time and far too much pained yelling, but the effort was mutually offered. He had given you everything in the time you knew him. When you expected nothing, he offered you the nine realms on a silver platter and insisted you were worthy of that and far more.

You knew how much more he had to do. How much potential for good he held in the palms of his hands; fully ready to make life better for everyone he crossed now that his own had been healed. His time was just beginning, and you would gladly trade spots with him if it meant that he was allowed to live a life in which he felt as loved as he should. Even that was selfish though, because deep down you knew a part of you only wanted to switch places so you could stop feeling this immense weight on your heart.

Thor held you for a long time. Neither one of you had been prepared for the onslaught of pain that Loki's absence would present. Neither one of you could handle it. This wasn’t a prank; there were no illusions of magic floating in the wind. This was real, and the agony it caused seemed never ending.

Loki was the love of your life. He had been the only reason your powers hadn’t ripped you to shreds and consumed you. Likewise, you were the only reason his internal battle ever ceased to rage. There was a calmness that grew from your love; and although many couples strive for adventure, the simple nature of living without turmoil was all either of you had ever wanted.

The day you found out about his death was the day you let yourself be torn apart. Your emotions left scars in your skin and the world around you, but no tangible damage could even come close to the wreckage that broke you apart inside.

That wasn't the end for you though. Over time, the pieces were stitched together haphazardly by Thor, Tony and a few other close friends. Some days you sewed on your own patches just because you knew you couldn’t let the ones you love suffer any more than they already had. Other days were not so good. Destruction would lie in the wake of your every move. You chose the most reckless and painful routes to meet your goals, and you didn’t care. If you died, you died. That was it. You were never sure what you believed in terms of an afterlife; all you could hope was that Loki would be wherever you ended up.

For five years this went on in excruciating agony, until one day a plan was hatched. Time travel wasn’t at the top of your list of things to do, but the chance to see Loki again was far too tempting. The only problem was that when you did see him again…he disappeared. It was only for a brief moment that you caught his eye. His beautiful face staring back at yours, and although the immense love was not yet there, you still couldn’t stop the butterflies from taking wing in your stomach.

But then, with a subtle nod and mischievous little wink, he was gone.

Yes, you saw the tesseract. Yes, you noticed when he moved to pick it up. And yes, you let it happen. Why? Well, at the moment it had been a pipe dream. A shot in the dark, in all honesty. You knew it was wrong and the consequences could be completely catastrophic. The thing is, love makes you stupid sometimes. It only makes sense that losing that love would make you desperate too.

When you were younger, you had heard stories of a group of people that controlled timelines. There were events that were meant to happen, and those that were not. These people followed the lines to the very smallest of details in order to ensure that nothing strayed. Loki taking the tesseract was a definite stray. If these stories were true, and again, it was a long shot that they were, there could be some small chance of finding him. All you had to do was play it cool long enough to help your friends. Then you could cause mayhem…controlled mayhem, at least.

So, that’s exactly what you did. There were more intensely painful funerals to endure. More death, destruction, and heartache to take on. It was listening to the final words of the man you looked up to that you decided now was the time to act. You could barely sit through Tony Stark's funeral, the grief and heartache that belonged to you was eclipsed by that of which you felt tumbling off in waves from the others that mourned him. You had almost left when his voice began to ring through the group.

"Everybody wants a happy ending, right? But it doesn't always roll that way...maybe this time. I'm hoping if you play this back, it's in celebration."

The sob that wracked your body was immediate and uncontrollable. There was so much to celebrate, so many reunions to attend, you just couldn't do it. Everyone had sacrificed so much to save the people they loved, and you took this as the go-ahead you needed to sacrifice just a little more. Celebrations could wait, you had a reunion to tend to. Things were back to normal. But he was still gone, and so your work began.

It was little things at first. Starting random energy drains, going out of your way to change people’s moods and attitudes in hopes of messing up their timelines. Nothing worked. That’s when you had to get creative. You started toying with people who could make bigger changes in the plans of cities or even countries. You planted seeds that would grow into trees of deliberate deviancies from the norm. It didn’t work.

Nothing worked and, at the end of the day, it was only by chance that you figured out why. Retracing your steps to watch the damage of a mayor you messed with, you just so happened upon a group of people who seemed to be investigating something. It wasn’t until much later that you’d figure out this was foreseen.

You demanded to know what was going on, they told you that you were under arrest, and from there it’s basically history. It might literally be depending on where in time you currently are. Not that anyone would know.

Now, you work with a man named Mobius. It hadn’t taken a lot of persuasion, which should have been a huge red flag. It wasn’t though, because all of this meant that the stories of the time keepers were true.

All of this meant that your chances of seeing Loki again had just multiplied more times than there are universes.

Your heart, no matter how torn, was still capable of holding the love for Loki that stayed strong all these years. You'd come this far...and you weren't about to give that up.

chapter one |

a/n: hi, hello! im alive! in case you missed my last post, i was gone from this blog for a while and just now started writing again for the first real time in...a really long time. im tagging everyone from my original loki/tom list, but please let me know if you want to be taken off because i understand ive been gone for a serious amount of time.

also, any feedback is so highly appreciated. again, its been forever since ive written, so dont be scared to tell me where i can improve (nicely if you can haha)

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[nitannichionne]

The Captain's Secret (Chris Evans Captain America Fic) Chapter 1: Shwarma

Chapter 1: Schwarma (Cap POV)

CAP POV

Schwarma. It reminded me of gyros, like from the Gyro King in Brooklyn. One thing I realize about food is so much is similar. The difference is what kind of meat, of course, but before that really comes down to what kind of spices are used.

Who would have thought The Avengers-my new comrades in arms-Thor, Iron Man, Hulk (now thankfully Bruce), Hawkeye, Widow and me, Captain America-could be found in a half destroyed Schwarma restaurant? I mean, I get it-we've just saved the world as we know it, as I'm still getting to know it, anyway-and Tony wants to do something we haven't done before, having cheated death and certain destruction. I had to hand it to the guy-he was willing to lay on the wire. He was also very different now.

"Ever died before or come close?" Tony asked, chewing thoughtfully. He came out of deep thought and glanced at us. We'd all come close before. Hawkeye and Black Widow in Budapest, Thor literally died and his father brought him back, Bruce was stopped when "the other guy" spit out the bullet he shot himself with, and me...?

A block of ice. I don't even think I felt dead or that I was dying, I froze so quickly. But I'll never forget that first breath, that first feeling of consciousness the second time around.

Hawkeye sighed, reclining in his chair. "Nobody in outer space like you, man."

Thor raised a hand just slightly but let it drop to his lap. Hawkeye raised a single index finger, and nodded. He stood corrected.

Tony was quiet then. I wondered what he saw up there, but I was too tired to ask, and he didn't look ready to talk about it. I knew that look. Some soldiers try to move past things too quickly, some drown in it. He looked like he was doing both. Even when traumatized he was an overachiever.

I just sat there, aching all over. I barely ate my food. All I wanted was a hot shower and a warm bed. Food could come later. It's not like I had to be battle ready anytime soon...I did a quick check of myself: cuts, bruises, but I could still fight if I had to. I took a deep breath and took a bite of my food. Not bad.

The sounds of stones and rubble moving brought all of our heads up from the feast. It wasn't the rhythmic sweep of the broom, that was making me sleepy.

"So how is it?" Nick Fury asked, his eye searching our faces for answers. He was assessing our conditions. I braced, unsure if there was still one more battle or assignment coming.

I gave a small shrug. "It's alright, but I'd rather have a cheeseburger."

"It's off the bucket list, that's for sure," Tony replied.

"Aye, I'll give you that." Thor threw the rest of his food on the paper plate. "I still don't understand what kicking a bucket has to do with death, though."

Hawkeye laughed, and Widow smiled. Bruce rolled his eyes, setting his food down on his plate.

"How is Loki?"

"Locked up nice and tight with a metal gag on, at the moment," Fury's smile was almost devious, but faded a little at Thor's frown. Loki was still Thor's brother. They acted as such, almost as if Loki went out to play with the wrong kids, and big brother was taking him home to Dad. Blood was thicker than...wait, no, they weren't blood, but they were brothers. I thought of Bucky, and I felt my heart wince. I missed that. "When we get him into a more permanent cell, we'll consider removing it."

"He and the Tesseract are going back to Asgard." Thor wasn't asking.

I looked at Fury, who nodded in acknowledgment. I felt myself relax. We really had no business with that thing. We could barely handle the tech we had, were still studying it. The Tesseract was other-worldly.  I didn't want it here.

"Alright."

I did a double take at Fury.

"If there is something I've learned over the years, you can't argue with gods, you can only make deals with them."

Over the years? Who else had he been in contact with?

It's JUNE! Chris Evans Month as far as I'm concerned...and bit my own. Enjoy the ride! The Chris Evans stories are strarting as of now, and let me know if you want to be on the newly forming master list.

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[a-fools-jester]

Falling Forever

"We're falling forever, we're far from together tonight The light at the tunnel is a runaway train The stars that we wish on are only airplanes The love that we're chasing is a heart break away Cause we're picture perfect in a broken frame" -Alex and Sierra, Broken Frame

The team comes home and Tony struggles to balance raising a teenager and dealing with their betrayal.

Chapter 1: We’re Falling Forever

Tony could not deny the shock that ran through his veins when he opened the door and saw who was standing on the other side. In hindsight, he should have listened to Friday. [“Sir, I really should warn you before you open the door-” Friday had tried, but Tony didn’t care who was on the other side, only how fast he could make them go away so he could go back to the medical ward and make sure that Peter was breathing. He muted her and told himself he’d feel guilty later for doing that to her. She'd come so far in her development that Tony learned the hard way she was capable of having her feelings hurt. And harboring a grudge. Cold showers at 5 am while on the way to a meeting? Not fun.] So needless to say he walked up to the door without any idea for the shock he was in for, his breath leaving for a second as he saw a familiar set of blue eyes. 

“What are you doing here?” Tony demanded- or that was what he'd planned on doing but his voice raised hardly more than a whisper, eyes belying the emotions coursing through every atom of his body. He couldn’t have expected the pulsing ache that went through him as he saw Steve Rogers standing there in front of the door with a duffel bag in hand and a baseball cap on, looking at him with those hesitant baby blues that used to show Tony the way home. Steve looked different, his bright eyes muted, his stance taking up less space than they'd used to before, back when… 

His time on the run must have taught him a few things about being invisible and trying to make yourself smaller to avoid conflict. Tony wondered if Steve suddenly felt like he did- unseen, unheard, invisible to everyone he came across, on the run from something that couldn't be outrun. Did things like this even affect the great American hero? Steve shuffled around a bit before he answered, taking in the sight of Tony as if he’d been away from him for a hundred years and not little more than half a year. “It’s... the day that we move in. The Accords-” The Accords. Of course. Tony had fought tooth and nail to keep the Avengers free and to amend the Accords so that they would be less of a rigid contract with a genie and more of a terms of service that could easily be tiptoed around if they knew what they were doing. It recognized enhanced individuals as humans who deserved rights and it was a way of giving them rights while also ensuring that these individuals were willing to work within the guidelines the government set for the protection of all people. And today was the day that the entire team of Avengers was scheduled to go back to the Avengers tower, staying under Tony’s “guidance and observation until further notice” as per the contract to make sure nobody would go rogue again. To make sure that nobody would break the rules and cause more destruction than necessary, they put Tony as the makeshift leader of the group that until now had been composed of him, the War Machine (Iron Patriot), Vision, and- unofficially- the Spiderling that Tony took under his wing. Until Steve earned the right back, Tony was technically in charge of the entire team. Which, of course, would mean absolute horseshit because it wasn't like any of the Avengers really gave a shit what Tony had to say when Steve Won't-Rest-Until-Justice-Is-Served Rogers was in the same room with his moral compass and his ability to detect evil a mile away. “Right, of course. You’re obviously here, where’s the rest of-” Tony didn’t say the word Avengers, didn’t dare to taste the bitter poison of the word, and he didn’t know whether he should call them your team instead or if that was something Steve Rogers would find hurtful. Tony just wanted to get out as fast as possible, everything else came in second. Steve seemed to understand though because he nodded. “They’re on their way from the van, sorting out baggage and belongings,” he responded and Tony nodded absently, looking around. “Okay, great, so Happy will sort all of you out with your own rooms and whatnot, Vision will be over the moon to be helpful after being restless for last few days, so if that’s all I’ll just-” he pointed behind him to show that he was going to bounce without saying it. “Tony,” Steve said with a sigh. “Please don’t… shut me out, I’m-” “No,” Tony cut in before Steve could go off on a sentimental rant about this. “No, we’re not doing this right now. We can’t do this right now because I have to go back to the medical ward right now- don’t take this personally, Cap, I’m fucking elated you got your head outta your ass but I have a boy upstairs that went sky-diving without a parachute and while tied to a boulder, so I really have to go.” Steve’s eyes were confused before Tony turned around and resolutely did not look back. If he looked back he might forget how to breathe, forget everything he'd forced himself to learn in the past few months, like he isn't coming back and he isn't mine and never really belonged to me like I belonged to him. Peter was just as Tony had left him: unconscious, arms covered in bandages, breathing with an oxygen tube in because he was hardly breathing when Tony found him. The silence of the room was a stark contrast to the rest of the tower and the dull blue and gray colors gave the room a melancholy feeling. Tony sat back down on the seat he’d been occupying the entire time that Peter had been here, watching the boy’s chest rise and fall slowly. If he didn’t watch him breathe, Tony worried that he might stop. If Peter stopped, Tony would too. As he stared at Peter on the hospital bed, Tony’s thoughts began to wander to the part of his mind he tried to keep closed off, full of crushed dreams and overflowing guilt and heaps of trauma from decades' worth of betrayal and mistreatment. The fact that the Avengers would now be living in the same building hit him in the gut, a slow, steady thrum of blinding panic filling his lungs like ice water until he couldn't breathe, suffocating him. 1, 2, 3, 4… 1, 2, 3, 4… Inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale. For god's sake, let's not do this right now, alright? They’d be staying here. He’d see them every day on his way to get coffee and when he was going to his room or going to his car. He’d see them, all of them, and he’d remember the events he’d been trying his damnedest to avoid thinking about. They'd look at him with venom and hatred that he deserved. They'd spit vitriol that would always hit too hard because of who they came from, because in the mouth of anyone else it was okay but from his friends? His family? They would always be sharper than glass on their tongues. And he'd come apart like clay in the hands of a careless child. There wouldn't be enough of him left after that, wouldn't even be enough shattered pieces for him to try and pick himself back up. A dozen, a gross, and a score- he mentally recited, trying to center himself with numbers before he kept going down that route and lost himself completely. He couldn't do that right now. He couldn't be selfish right now. Peter needed him. All of them would be living together again for the first time in what felt like forever. When he’d agreed to this part of the Accords he really hadn’t given it thought, agreeing just for the sake of agreeing because it meant that the Rogues would be free again. People he once considered family would be free again. And he hadn’t quite comprehended what it meant until now. His heart sped up in his chest, images of the way the arc reactor sputtered out in his chest back in Siberia flashing in his mind. Too fast, too fast, too fast, his mind raced, thoughts shooting like fireworks around his brain. He couldn't stop remembering everything he'd been trying so hard to forget. -plus three times the square root of four- He remembered the blood in his mouth, spilling down the back of his throat, lips throbbing from where Steve's bruised knuckles had connected. He remembered that those same porcelain knuckles had once carded through his hair with the utmost gentleness, eyes loving, voice soft as magnolias and tender as dawn. He remembered the way Steve used to pull him against his chest, pressing his lips against a place in Tony's neck that always made him go weak in the knees. -divided by seven- He remembered Steve hovering over him like a reaper with a shield in his hands and a savage look in his eyes that Tony had never quite seen before, his eyes singing a song of death and ruthlessness. It was something feral and untamed, something as controllable as a hurricane and as easy to subdue as a storm. Tony raised his arms up then and he had a choice to make: blast Steve Rogers to hell with the repulsor or let him bring the shield down. If he fired that blast, if he activated the lasers, if he decided to use his suit for one last fatal blow, he would have been the only one leaving that bunker alive. -plus five- He didn't fire the blast. Steve brought the shield down against his arc reactor instead and in the end, it was Tony that was left behind in the unforgiving bunker, unable to breathe, no way of finding his way back home. Alone and cold again, as usual. Steve left as if they weren't… As if what they had wasn't… -times eleven- When Tony got back home, he'd found Rhodey waiting with his arms open just like all those years ago back when it was a desert and not an icy terrain. Searing heat and not frigid cold. Afghanistan and not Siberia. The Ten Rings and not Steve. The one thing that stayed the same is that no matter how ragged and broken he was, Rhodey was there to pick him back up from the ground in spite of his own paralyzed legs. So Tony got to work, distracting himself, working himself to the ground, trying to perfect the EXTREMIS formula. And when he managed to get it to a stable and more reliable formula, he tried it on himself first and then gave it to Rhodey to make up for the legs he'd gotten hurt because of Tony. -is nine squared - "Now you can lose them a thousand times and they'll grow right back," Tony had joked. They were invulnerable, and it reminded Tony so much of a certain super-soldier he had to keep himself from grimacing every time he remembered the man who had laughed with Tony in bed one night and was gone on a search for the past the next. With the strength of the super-soldier serum coursing through his veins, Tony suddenly understood how it felt to not have to cower in front of others. He understood how it might feel to finally have that power and go fuck you to anyone who wanted to shoulder him around. It was a power and a responsibility he had to learn how to properly harness so he didn't burn from the inside out or burn half the universe away. -and not a bit more. "Sir?" Tony heard through the haze in his mind and he blinked, taking in the scene of the hospital room. Belatedly, he realized he was gripping his own thigh and released it, forcing himself to take a few breaths like he'd practiced before. Lucidity came over him like rain against paint, spilling colors and sound back into Tony's brain. The heart monitor beeping, the smell of lemon-scented cleaner, the feeling of the chair under his legs. He was okay. Everything was okay. Peter was still asleep, but Tony wasn't alone in the room anymore. He met Happy's eyes and stood casually, hands in his pockets. "Happy, just the man I wanted to see!" he said with a fake cheer in his voice as he walked over to the other man. "How did our team of rogues react to being housed once more in the same building as the horrible bloodsucker Stark?" Happy rolled his eyes. "They were confused why you weren't there, Rogers debriefed them, and they went on their merry little way. I came here to ask about the kid. And about you." Tony laughed, pointing a finger at Happy. "You, my friend, care a lot more about him than you let him know. You always act like you'd rather be anywhere but with him but we both know you've got a soft side, Hap. We both know he's grown on you. He does that, the little shit. Can make anyone love him, I swear he is not human, he's some seductive… innocent…. thing." "Eloquent as always, sir," Happy replied, not responding to his claims and looking at Peter instead. "How long till he wakes up?" Tony shrugged, taking his own pulse inconspicuously. "No clue. Probably tonight if the universe doesn't completely hate me." Happy walked to the table and made himself some coffee before he took a seat in front of Peter. Tony walked over to the window seat and plopped himself down, taking a sip of the coffee Happy handed him. Neither of them spoke as they sat there, watching Peter and listening to the steady beat of his heart. The hours passed by agonizingly slow, but when Peter finally opened his eyes he almost wept for joy. "Oh sweet mother Maria, Peter, how do you feel?" he asked, finding himself with an armful of shaking spider boy. He couldn't even resist it- he was too relieved to push the kid away and besides, he just bounced back from his first real near-death experience. "You almost gave me a heart attack, you know that? Fighting on a goddamn plane without telling me again - I swear, I'll never let you out of my sight again after this. You're benched until I'm sure you're smart enough not to go on planes to catch assholes using magic which means that they could fly and you can't, got it? You can't just- After Rhodey, I mean, I- For god's sake, Peter, you could have died." Peter nodded into Tony's neck, holding Tony like he was scared that the older man would leave him if he let go. He still felt like he was falling when he closed his eyes. And the way that the piece of broken metal had landed on him reminded him too much of the fallen building, which already gave him nightmares. "I'll be alright. I'm sorry, sir, I'm so sorry. I didn't- ah, I mean, you know- I didn't think that they would-" and he sighed in frustration when the words wouldn't form quite right, stumbling from his tongue rather than flowing easily like he wanted them to. "I didn't think about the possibility that they'd blow the entire thing up. I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. It won't happen again, I promise. Please don't be angry." Tony tried to keep up the act of being angry for a total of five seconds before he crumbled under Peter's soft eyes looking into his own with a mixture of repentance, hurt, fear and hope. Honestly, he wasn't even that mad and the relief far outweighed any anger he felt about Peter's stupid stunt. "Alright, I'll assume that the whole this-" Tony gestured to Peter's bandages and tubes, "-is enough to teach you a lesson. But if you do this again, I'm going to be pissed beyond belief." Peter melted back against the bed and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Stark. You're the best." "Thanks, I've been told very many times and they're all very right," Tony responded, loving the laugh he got from Peter, loving the way that Peter looked at him as if he was the best thing in the world. Maybe, just maybe, things might be okay. "Oh, and heads up, the Avengers are now… in the building, so try not to faint if you see Captain America in the kitchen at 6 am drinking green tea and whatever garbage healthy stuff he eats." Peter's eyes didn't widen with excitement like Tony expected though, instead, they averted and Peter nodded solemnly. "Oh. Okay." He didn't meet Tony's eyes for a while but Tony decided not to think of it, pulling out his phone and typing up some updates to Peter's suit that he had in mind so that they would be better prepared to deal with a situation like this in the future. Apparently, one parachute wasn't enough. He'd have to install more ways to ensure that Peter would survive from falling from an aircraft- which wasn't exactly something they taught in the hefty parenting books Pepper bought him. - Tony decided early on that he would not be the one tiptoeing around his own house. Not this time. So he simply continued on with his daily routine and didn't pay much attention to the fact that each of his previous friends- turned enemies- turned technically subordinates were now in the same building as him. For the most part, they seemed to avoid him as well. He'd only seen them in passing and he'd shared a brief nod or conversation with each, almost always small talk, never about anything which could threaten the fragile peace they had. Sam was the one that tried to initially talk to Tony, leaving him a book on self-help and panic attacks that Tony promptly shoved into the deepest corner of his walk-in closet. Rhodey was the one who Tony spent most of his time with, training with him, bouncing around some ideas, doing whatever they both decided to do. Even if said thing was playing board games or flying around the city and throwing water balloons. It was about being together, not about what they were doing together. Or so Tony said to Rhodey when he would complain about the activity. Or other times, it was Peter beside Tony, tinkering with him in the lab, sitting beside him for a meal that Tony couldn't say no to if he wanted to set a good example, talking science with him or persuading Tony to help him build Lego sets in spite of Tony's attempts to complain and explain the word "reputation" to him. Peter was a constant source of warmth for Tony, always happy to see him and be with him even if Tony was hardly a pleasant person to be around most of the time. Still, Tony found himself caring a lot for his "ward" he still didn't really know how he came to have- it was an accidental adoption brought about by circumstance, really. When May had died and left Peter with no other suitable guardian, it was all Tony owed Peter to give him a house and food and a stable source of income. Of course that, somehow, came with nights spent worrying over the little hero and driving lessons that almost gave Tony a heart attack every five seconds and days spent doing nothing but ended up being enjoyable nonetheless even if all they achieved was finally finishing a movie marathon. And that was enough for Tony. Everything was less important compared to that. Of course, that was not taking into account the looks he got from the others from time to time. He tried to ignore it, he did, but sometimes they were so transparent that he wanted to turn around and snap. But he didn't snap and he kept a lid on his temper and he made sure not to be affected by the looks of confusion and anger and regret and contempt on their faces. Steve Rogers was the worst though because Tony knew what his facial expressions meant even if he could only use the tips of his fingers to trace them. Tony saw the wistful look in his eyes, the regret, the shame, the frustration he tried hard to push down. But most painful and disturbing of all, Tony saw the longing in his eyes when he leaned forward- to touch, to reach out- before he stopped himself. Steve Rogers was a bruise and he made Tony ache just looking at him. There were too many things to be said between them, too many words that had built up and turned sour on Tony's tongue because he'd bitten them down too long. There was a conversation to be had about trust and secrets and betrayal. About putting your hands on your lover and leaving them to die for someone else without so much as a goodbye and not turning back even when they called your name- as a plea or a curse didn't matter, if they whispered it or snarled it was irrelevant. If you loved that person you should at least have the decency to spare them a parting glance before you closed the door behind you. But when Tony looked into Steve's mournful eyes, all the words clattered against each other until all remained was a jumble of letters and vowels and white noise in Tony's brain. So he said nothing except "good morning" and "good evening" and " bless you" and "excuse me" and "goodbye". He said nothing about arc reactors flickering out in his chest or about videos watched in Siberian HYDRA bases that showed a murder that had been kept secret from him or about the long shadow that Bucky Barnes cast. Steve didn't try to talk to him either. It was always "morning, Tony" and "hey, Tony" and "bye, Tony" and "night, Tony". So Tony focused on making sure Peter was capable of keeping himself alive when Tony was gone for longer than 5 minutes and that his inventions were used for good things like giving the sick and dying a second chance at living a normal life and giving the incapable the means to even out the playing field. "Tones," Rhodey called and he looked up from his phone to look at him. And then beside him, where two people stood with ridiculously bright smiles that felt a bit out of place for 6 in the morning. "You got a few visitors looking to book a room." Bruce and Thor stood there, looking like friends that just got home. It struck Tony how they were both actually happy to be there, with their smiles and gentle eyes. Tony didn't hesitate before he got up and walked over, placing a hand on Bruce's shoulders. "Bruce, are you okay? How have you been?" he asked, opening his arms up when Bruce moved to embrace him without missing a beat. "God, I missed you. Where have you been, man?" "I was on this planet called Sakaar for a few years as the Hulk and then Thor showed up there so I guess he sorta woke me up? And then we went back to Asgard to fight his sister who was trying to kill everyone and he lost an eye and the entire planet burned so we're here now with a lot of Asgardians," Bruce explained and Tony struggled to take in everything he was rambling about. Was Bruce high? What the actual hell were they talking about? Thor nodded, agreeing with everything Bruce said as if he'd just said something perfectly sensible. "Yes, and my father died as well and my sister Hela broke my most cherished hammer. And a crazy old man cut my hair off. Ah! And my brother Loki is here with us and also needs a place to stay for the next few days until he finds somewhere more suitable and acceptable. He has proven his goodness, Man of Iron, and I assure you he is no enemy. His hand was forced when he attacked Midgard, verified by our trusted Heimdall, who sees all and knows all the events that go on within the universe. He has been freed from his spell though, so I can assure you he will not be a threat any longer." Tony watched as Loki stepped from the shadows, hands clasped behind his back, looking far less evil and perhaps a bit more charming now that he was wearing a warm blue outfit and a smile that reached his eyes rather than bearing a sneer and a murder stick. "Hello, Anthony." "Tony's fine," he responded with a small smile. And that was that. "Everyone else calls me that, so… I don't know, welcome aboard, I guess? You know most of the old Avengers here, I'll assume, because we were all trying to take you down: Cap, me, Natasha, and Clint. The new ones are Vision, Rhodey, Spider-boy aka Peter Parker who's in his room, um… Bucky isn't here right now, there's Wanda, and… Wilson." Tony finished pointing at each of the ones he mentioned before he looked at Loki, who was giving him a puzzled smile. "I could give you either the seventh or eleventh floor, up to you. Which do you prefer?" Loki frowned, crossing his arms in front of him. "You are offering me shelter?" "You said you needed a place to stay, Loreal, so tell me which you'd prefer so I could have it set up by dinner." Loki blinked at him, baffled by the welcome he'd received without Tony missing a beat. He'd expected that he'd need to beg and barter to receive shelter from a man he threw from a building, but instead he was greeted with a "Tony's fine" and told to pick which floor he'd prefer, not questioned about who controlled him, how, or asked questions to verify the credibility of his story. It was quite odd, but with a gentle prod of mind magic, Loki figured out the answer lay in the strained relationship between Tony and the rest of the previous Avengers who now stood there with either confused, curious or distrustful looks on their faces even if none of them spoke up about Loki's stay. How curious. "I would prefer 11th if the choice is actually a choice." "Of course the choice is a choice, I'm not here to dangle options just to pull them away last minute for shits and giggles," Tony said, before raising his hand. "Fri, you heard? 11th floor, personalized furniture, whatnot. Give him the Thor or Bucky deal but make it match the files I have on hand for him to be better suited for him. Leave a magazine for him to be able to customize it." "I'm on it, Boss," Friday responded. "Alright, so… Thor, you're the top floor and Bruce you're the first basement level. Is this still okay with the two of you?" At their nods, he flashed them a thumbs up. "Nice to have the two of you back, I'll have some more things ordered for you. Friday is my new AI, so you can ask her for anything you might need or if you need to contact me." "Mr. Stark can I go to the museu-" Peter walked in and froze, eyes widening when he saw the two men he hadn't met before. "Mr. Stark is that-" "Thor and Bruce Banner and Loki, yes it is, kid, go nuts," Tony said, clapping him on the back and pushing him towards the three. Peter stared at them all in awe, eyes wide with wonder as he approached them. Tony thought he looked like a kid that just went to a candy store for the first time, smiling as Peter fawned over all of them, excitedly rambling. "Hi! I'm Peter, or uh, Spider-man. It's nice to meet you, sir," Peter gushed to Thor, looking at him. "Say, your hair is a lot shorter than the news says it is. Did you cut it? I like it better like this, with a little lightning thing on the side. Do you still have your magic hammer?" "I'm afraid I do not, for it was destroyed in a death-match with my eldest sibling, Hela who was bent upon destroying our planet." "Oh, okay. Mr-Dr Banner! Hi, I'm Peter. I read all of your works and journals and I loved all of them, especially your articles on biochemistry! I'm a huge fan, my school holds an honor day for you, Mr. Banner, sir," Peter said as he shook Bruce's hand, who stood there blushing, visibly flustered as Tony flashed him a smile. "You're a hero amongst scholars and- and an Avenger too, which is so awesome when you think about it. The Hulk is the coolest thing ever! It's an honor to finally meet someone who helped revolutionized modern science." "Finally meet someone who revolutionized modern science?" Tony muttered, crossing his arms. "Wow, way to go for the pride, kid. Right in the arc reactor." "Uh, thank you very much, that's very kind of you, Pete- Peter. You've read all of my works?" Tony nodded. "Yep, he read yours and wouldn't shut up about all your theories and discoveries for weeks. He's a huge science nut and did the same thing for my journals and all that jazz though so I wouldn't let it go to your head, Brucie." "Wait- is this, I'm sorry, I have to ask because this is all pretty... confusing. Is he your son? How old is he? 12? How long were we gone?" Bruce finally asked the question that had been bubbling in his mind from the moment he saw Peter walk in and Tony flashed him a smile that Bruce knew to be rare and had to be earned. It was genuine and unfiltered, which begged the question of who this kid was and how he'd managed to earn Tony's affection. There was a murmur of agreement among the others in the room, and Tony looked at them to see they were all waiting for an answer. Seemed most of them wondered but none had dared to ask. He shrugged. "It's a long story. Son? Technically, yes, because his last legal guardian died and that left me to take him in. You were gone a few years, which is good because a shitstorm is what you missed if we're going to be brutally honest. Avengers broke up, then they were legally mandated to come back here under my ever-so-watchful eye so they came back here a week ago. There's really no need to recap all that, you could google it if you want to see us acting like street punks at 7/11 fist-fighting to claim their turf. Press called it the 'Civil War' if you're interested." "Broke up? What, like the Beatles?" Bruce asked, looking around to meet Clint's eye, who nodded jerkily before turning back to his oatmeal. "You guys broke up?" "I'm 15, not 12," Peter replied with a frown, walking over to Loki and giving him a smile. "Hi, Mr. Loki, I'm Peter. I heard a lot about you." Loki internally winced. The only thing this small child could have heard was how Loki went into a rage and tried to destroy Midgard with his army of chitauri and got beaten into the ground, defeated. Or perhaps how he was Thor's less important and less powerful brother, a simple god of mischief, adopted Jotunn son of two Asgardian gods. "Did you?" "Yeah! Can you explain how your- uh, it's called cider, right?- works? Is it something you inherit from your parents? Can I learn it? Do you think you can show me how the cider works?" The silence around the room was almost hilarious because nobody, not even Stark, could have expected that those were the words that Peter was going to say. There was something beautiful about a kid's charm and innocence and naivete, and though Tony would have scolded him any other time for asking a murderous magic man to teach him magic, he couldn't bring himself to do so when he saw the brightness in Loki's eyes that looked ridiculously close to watering. Thor was giving his brother a soft smile, unseen by either Peter or Loki, and the rest of the Avengers couldn't even bring themselves to look away from the scene playing out. "It is called seidr. I could explain it further if you… wish," Loki responded, visibly caught out of his depth by the curiosity and genuine interest in the boy's eyes. Tony returned Peter's beaming grin, happy that his geeky son would get to do whatever geeky stuff he wanted. The kid loved fantasy and sci-fi after all, so learning magic from an actual god must be a dream come true for him. From the shadows, Tony saw Cap with a small, sad smile on his face before he turned around and left the kitchen. Tony knew he'd be going to the gym by the tense set of his shoulders and the way he walked like his fists were itching for something- anything- to make contact with until his mind stopped its course of destruction. Tony watched him until he turned a corner and disappeared.

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