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ausetevi · 18 days ago

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Largo Descent P2 (Loki x Nebula)

Loki

The girl moved quickly, stiff backed and tense with nerves. Her anxious demeanor drew several inquiring glances. Loki kept pace with her, making sure to keep a sharp eye for any chance she might take to run away.

She led him through the sharp cornered streets for a while before a large, dommed structure came into view. She suddenly folded her hands in front of her, jutting her elbows out and plastering a wide, false grin across her face.

“My Master, Taneleer Tivan, or the Collector as you know him, will be pleased to meet you.”

Loki narrowed his eyes slightly before falling into her ruse with ease.

“Yes, I am sure he will. I trust his eye for . . exquisite treasures.” The girl glanced back at him, her gaze slightly wary as she forced her grin wider.

“Yes, of course. Right this way, my lord . . “

“Loki Laufeyson.” He smiled slightly. The girl’s eyes widened slightly in recognition.

“Right this way . .” She led him through a wide entrance into an otherworldly museum. Loki looked around in slight awe.

Around a dimly lit, wide open and exceedingly high ceilinged space were glass cages in stacks upon stacks. Each one contained something different, some even had living creatures trapped inside. And in the center of it all bent over an examining table, was a man almost as eccentric and strange as his collection, the Collector.

The only thing Loki saw of him at first was a long, white coat which made him look more snow beast than man.

“Miran, what could have possibly taken you so long?” The Collector snapped as he rose to his full height, pushing a pair of multi-lensed glasses above his brow.

“Never mind that now . . At Least tell me you managed to get the Shi’ar polish?” The collector quickly turned, his face twisted in irritation.

‘ I need it for the-”

He trailed off as he saw his new guest, his eyes narrowed with curiosity and suspicion.

“And who, pray tell, might our new . . guest be? . .” His eyes flicked between Loki and the pink girl, Miran.

“My Lord, Loki Laufeyson-”

“An Aseguardian . .” The Collector drawled, interrupting Miran. “And a prince at that. A bit far from the Nine Realms, aren't we?”

Loki’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly at the mention of Aseguard. No matter how he had been mistreated there, it had still been he and Thor’s home.

“It has been quite the challenge to arrive here, Collector, but I have an irresistible offer for you.”

The Collector perked up a bit at this. “Oh? Enlighten me then, mischief god.”

Loki smirked at that and reached into his pocket. Mirran watched curiously as he did. Conjuring an illusion into his hand before slowly pulling it out. A bright, shining star pulsed in his hand casting the room in a blue glow. The Collector’s brows rose and he reached up and pulled the glasses off of his forehead, setting them on the table top next to him. Miran’s lips parted in awe. The Collector took a tentative step forward.

“And what . . Is this?” His eyes gleamed in the abnormal star light.

“The core of an ancient star, saved from the vaults of Odin himself before the fall of Asgard.” Loki said grandly, lifting the false star higher. “Ah . . I see.” The Collector murmured, glancing at the star then back to Loki’s face. Artifacts glinted as Loki turned the illusion slightly in his hand. The Collector watched the movements like a hungry vulture, his hands gripped inside his sleeves.

“What is it capable of?” He leered closer.

“A great many things . .” Loki started as he watched the Collector, amused. A mighty man, but a greedy one nonetheless. Greed was something he could use.

“It can shift the very nature of gravity itself if used right, it can bend the tide of a whole moon to wash out cities . .”

The Collector tilted his chin up at this, his fingers tapping together, eyes focused on the star.

“And . . how much would you want for this?” He mused. Right where I want you. Loki grinned.

“I heard that you have acquired a new addition to your hoard, a map.” The Collector’s gaze snapped to Loki’s face.

“So you've heard . .” Loki nodded.

“I offer you the star in exchange for the map.” Loki stated.

The Collector narrowed his eyes for a second.

“And how do I know that this is not one of your infamous illusions? Hm?” Loki’s smug grin grew at this, he had been practicing his magic.

“See for yourself.” He tossed the star to the Collector who caught it with a single hand. He raised a brow as he felt the warm pulse of the star in his palm, before his mouth pulled into a grin to match Loki’s.

“You, my royal friend, have yourself a deal.” The Collector quickly turned to Miran.

“What are you ogling at girl? Fetch the map. Go, shoo!” He waved her off with a hand and quickly turned back to his table, wiggling his strange glasses back on with one hand. Miran quickly slipped away.

Loki folded his hands behind his back and focused on keeping the illusion stable. It had taken much work, making illusions real enough to hold, to touch. But he had done it. It was now only a matter of time if he could keep it up long enough to get the map and slink away. The Collector held the star up closer to his face, studying it through his glasses.

“Fascinating . .” He murmured, tilting it this way and that to examine it.

“And how did your father acquire this stunning trinket?” The collector asked as he studied the illusion. Loki tensed slightly in concentration, making sure to keep the star stable enough to hold.

“He found a powerful, dying star along his conquest of the nine realms. He told me the story once or twice.” Loki made sure to keep his voice steady as he fed the Collector the false tale. His mind raced to keep up with the illusion but his face did not show it. He wandered over to a few of the stored artifacts, pretending to inspect them. A few moments later, Miran came back with a small, intricately carved metal box cupped in her hands.

“Ah, here we are.” The Collector announced as he waved Loki over. Miran opened the small box as the two men approached.

Loki peered with curiosity into the box. Inside was a small, triangular metal chip the size of two finger tips. It looked ancient, with runes scrolled across it to tarnished to decipher. Loki stared at it for a second before glancing at the Collector.

“How do you access it?” The Collector paused for a second, his lips pursed for a second.

“We have yet to figure that out.” Loki’s brows raised.

“Then . . How do you know this is the map to the Heart?”

The Collector smirked at this.

“It was found on a long ago forgotten world in an underground cave system. It was hidden in a chamber with more than a few booby traps, many people died to get this.”

“And?” The Collector rolled his eyes at the god’s impatience.

“And there was writing all along the walls. They were able to decipher enough of it to reveal that this is indeed the right map.”

Loki reached into the box and picked up the small chip, squinting at it. It was cool to the touch and it seemed much heavier than it should be. Out of the corner of his eye, Loki saw Miran glance at something in the far shadows of the room. Before he could look, the Collector was speaking again. He refocused on maintaining the illusion.

“Now then! The deal is sealed, I take the star, you take the map and go on your merry way.” The Collector plucked the map from Loki’s hands and placed it back in the box, Miran snapped it shut. The girl smiled politely at him and held out the box. The Collector gave an impish grin as Loki took it carefully and tucked it into his pocket.

“Pleasure doing business.” He threw the star up in the air and caught it again. Loki bowed his head before turning swiftly, the tail of his coat flaring out dramatically.

“Make sure you take good care of that, stars tend to burn out when not treated properly.” He called over his shoulder.

He was halfway to the door when he felt the muzzle of a gun press against the back of his skull. He froze.

“Hands in the air.” Said a low, raspy voice. Loki’s eyes flicked to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of his new captor.

He snorted as he lifted his hands.

“A gun? Oh, how pedestrian. Surely you can do better than that?” He mused. The gun pressed harder into the back of his head. He grimaced slightly.

“Gets the job done. Now hand it over.” Loki’s brows drew.

“I have no idea what you're talking about . .”

“Ill refresh your memory then.” the muzzle jabbed painfully into his head and he hissed. “The map.”

“Alright alright, no need to be so temperamental.” He slowly reached for his pocket.

Nebula

She watched the trickster's movements like a hawk. She knew what he was capable of, illusions and all. She didn't need to worry about the Collector, the girl had already clocked him in the head and he was crumpled on the floor. The ‘star’ the Asgardian had traded to him had already shimmered out of view, a clever illusion.

The very same Asgardian still had his hand in his pocket.

“If you try anything I'll put a laser right through your skull.” She pushed the gun a little harder against his head to prove her point.

“Ouch.” He said pointedly before pulling the small metal box from earlier out of his pocket, she had spotted it earlier from her hiding place. She kept the gun pressed against the back of his head and held out her other one. Loki slowly lifted his hand to place the map in hers. Nebula took it quickly and gripped the small box tightly. Finally, she thought. She was getting irritated at both the Trickster and the Collector’s games.

“Not so fast!” Miran called from across the room. Nebula heard the tell tale click of a blaster as it was cocked. Her head snapped towards Miran but she made sure to keep a steady watch on Loki out of the corner of her eye.

“What the hell are you doing?” Snapped Nebula. Miran’s hands trembled slightly in her weak grip on the gun.

“I want that.” Her wide gaze flicked to the map. “Give it to me.” Nebula’s eyes slowly narrowed.

“We had a deal. Why the sudden change of heart?” Miran squared her shoulders.

“That must be very valuable if you two are both after it . .” Loki slowly looked over his shoulder at the situation.

“Well well well, this just got far more interesting . . Wouldn't you both agree?“ Miran swung the gun towards Loki.

“Shut up! Now, give me the map.” She said defiantly. Her eyes were wide and nervous, but Nebula saw the desperate edge in her wild eyes, like a cornered animal. Desperate people were dangerous. She huffed and slowly lifted her hands.

“Miran, you're making a mistake. Put the gun down before I make you.” Nebula warned. The girl did not listen.

“You think you can threaten me? That he hasn't done enough already!?” She cried, swinging the gun towards the Collector. That single moment of distraction was all Nebula needed, she sprinted with inhuman speed at Miran who turned too late. The cyborg maneuvered behind her, wrapping an arm around her throat. Miran yelped in surprise and dropped the gun which clattered to the floor, clawing at Nebula’s arm. Nebula held fast, watching as Miran’s eyes fluttered and rolled back, her movements slowed. The girl slowly sank and Nebula let her flop to the floor. The Trickster had been watching the scene with keen interest.

“Impressive . .” He glanced Nebula over. She glowered at him.

“Perhaps I underestimated you, it seems you can be creative without a mere gun.” Nebula reached down for the blaster, pointing it at him. Loki smirked.

“Give me one good reason not to kill you right here, right now.” She hissed.

Loki spread his arms wide, chuckling darkly.

“Because we both need to get off of this trash heap, don't we, dear Nebula?” She tilted her head.

“I can do that without you.” She cocked the blaster. Loki’s smirk widened at her threat.

“I'm sure you could . . But you wouldn't get very far with the Collector’s minions after you. Not to mention the countless others after that little treasure.” He nodded to the box gripped in her other hand. Nebula slowly considered his words. They had a certain logic to them . . No.

“I will not be twisted by your words!” She snarled. Loki’s mouth twitched slightly, almost imperceptible. The only reason she caught it was due to her cybernetically enhanced vision.

“Just listen to me for a second will you? I will not go anywhere without that map and neither will you. We both need it. How about a truce, a minuscule alliance until we are off of Knowhere, yes?”

Nebula glared at him for a few seconds longer. She knew he would stop at nothing till he got the map. . . Besides,it was better to have a god of disguises on her side rather than against her. And this way she could keep a closer eye on him. She lowered the gun slightly.

“This doesn't mean I trust you.” He grinned.

“I'd be highly disappointed if you did.”

#Loki x Nebula #loki laufeyson #Marvel #MCU #Lovestory #Enemies to lovers #Nebula #Gaurdians of the galaxy #Thor #Enemies with benefits

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alastors-radioshow · 2 years ago

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Alt!

Send me “alt!” and I’ll introduce you to a character I’ve rped in the past, want to play in the future or are currently playing somewhere else!

"Well, well, well.. How very extraordinary. I did not figure that I would be making my appearance in this hellscape, but one can be proven wrong, I suppose.

For those of you who are unaware.. I am Loki of Asgard. Burdened with glorious purpose. Or so I would have said, approximately eight years ago. I cannot exactly claim to be thrilled to be here, but alas. Here we are."

#nebula-gaster #alastors-radioshow #::Guest Muse::#::M - Loki::#::On Air:: - Ask #//I only have Loki on Discord or in other private settings. He's refused to be part of tumblr lol

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thegirlwhowaited-dw · 6 years ago

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"Are you an Avenger!?"

“Am I a what?”

#c: Nebula guest Star Muse #chopperpirate

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gripefroot · 4 years ago

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Library

He always knows where to find her.

It’s become a game, after all these years - almost a cat and mouse to keep the blood warm and anticipation high. For there is never a shortage of anticipation in the waiting; not for her, and when she sees his face, not for him, either. Like clockwork, the chime that seems to pause all time between their duties to carve out their love again and again, always reassurance. A pause. A breath. A sigh. Before time starts again.

Sometimes it’s a garden, sometimes a deserted corridor, sometimes a courtyard beneath a starry sky. Sometimes the forest. Sometimes a guest chamber at the palace. Sometimes she’s the cat, pretending to both of them she’s capable of sneaking up on him while he keeps vigil alone. And sometimes it’s simply behind the carved wooden doors of their own chambers, behind those velvet drapes while the Nine Realms spin on around them -

But tonight, it’s the library.

Tonight it’s past midnight, with the city gone dark and slow and quiet, and it grows difficult to stay awake. With the first chill at the onset of autumn, the crackling fire in the great stone hearth is welcome - amongst the ancient tomes and dusty shelves she’s made a bed of furs, a soft place to land within the fire’s glow.

Though it might put her to sleep before he even arrives.

It’s in the rustle of leaves outside the columned windows that he does - quiet as a shadow, as is his way, but her ears are tuned to how the world curls around him. The leaves, then the silence. She knows that silence as well as she knows his smile or his laugh, and so she’s smiling as she stirs beneath the furs, blinking open her eyes to see him beside the hearth, lifting the helm from his head as his eyes glow golder than the flames.

“I am sorry I am late,” his voice rumbles, and his gaze doesn’t leave her face.

“No matter,” she murmurs back. Then a sudden yawn slips through her lips, which she tries to hide with the back of her hand.

“I kept you waiting.” There’s a wry twist of his lips, as he now unbuckles the scabbard at his waist. Into a chair beside his helmet, and though he likely means to keep it from her - there’s a flash of a wince on his handsome, sculpted face, and she swings her legs over the side of the sofa. A quick tug frees the silken, burgundy folds of her dressing gown from beneath her, and she stands.

“Come, husband. Let me help you undress.”

His smile turns grateful - taking him by the hand, she guides him to sit atop the furs, where she can kneel behind him to unlace his golden pauldron at the back of his neck. His head droops as she slides it from his shoulders, setting it carefully upon the stone-flagged floor.

“I would return the offer,” he says softly. “But it seems you are already undressed.”

“Not all the way,” she laughs in return, and clicks her tongue in chiding. “I could not wait bare-skinned in a library where anyone might walk in! That is only for you.”

Beneath his arms are the ties to his cuirass - nimbly she unlaces those as well, practiced after so long. Then, quietly, he says, “No one will disturb us this night, my love.”

“Then we must make the night count.”

The cuirass is put aside, and her lips find the nape of his neck - chainmail cold against her chin, but his skin is warm and husky-scented. He hums at the sensation as she works to free him of the heavy mail, his chest vibrating. The scent of the cold cosmos, of starry nebulas is so recognizable - so him.

Once the chainmail is lifted, she curls around him, sliding into his lap as he smiles fondly down at her. Cheek against his soft, worn leather tunic, she whispers, “What did you see tonight?”

“Everything,” he murmurs back, his lips against her hair. “I saw war and famine and destruction. And I saw love and children and open hearts. I saw worlds die and worlds born. The stars are aging, and I heard the music of their closing.”

The hair that sculpts his jawline is coarse beneath her palm, as she draws his face near to hers - a kiss, his taste sliding musky over her tongue, his arm tightening ‘round her waist. The cold vambrace is hard with only her thin dressing gown to protect her, but it doesn’t hurt - it merely feels like him.

“And,” he says when he pulls away, nuzzling his nose against hers. “I saw you waiting for me.”

She smiles. “I counted on it.” She catches her hand in his, weaving their fingers together where they fit so perfectly; the callouses meeting her soft skin in a thrilling stroke. Then, drawing his hand close, she begins to remove his vambrace, next.

The fire crackles - the only sound apart from the song of leather ties, and his deep, even breathing. Forehead resting against her head, she knows his eyes are closed as she ministers to him.

“The king,” he starts to say, and his voice breaks. “The Allfather joined the stars today, my love.”

Her fingers pause, and the library suddenly seems frigidly cold, as though struck with a winter wind - shivering, she burrows herself deeper into her husband’s arms before sliding the vambrace over his hand. His embrace tightens as he moves to unlace the vambrace behind her back, where she can’t reach.

“And what do you see of us, now?” she asks boldly.

“I see...a cloak of darkness. I see pain.” His eyes open again, and she tilts her chin to peer into the golden depths - how well he sees her, after centuries of watching the universe. And she sees him, too, his grief and sadness lined around his eyes, the furrow of his brows, the downward tilt of his lips. Perhaps he knows more than he says, but her utmost trust in what he chooses to share is unsurpassed. His sight can be a burden, she knows, and in her love she seeks merely to ease it.

Thumb against his bottom lip, urging it to lift. “Then let us enjoy the light while we have it,” she suggests, and when he smiles, it aches - but he kisses her, all the same, large, calloused hands exploring where they already know along her waist and back and neck. He drinks her sighs as greedily as he always has, and against his palm she can feel the steady thumping of his heart.

When she’s growing breathless and his voice is ragged, he tips her back onto the furs. The sight of him standing above the sofa to remove his leather tunic and breeches draws her in like a moth to flame - and she welcomes the burning with open arms, at the exposure of his glinting skin, the heat against her skin. How he fumbles with the ties of her dressing gown, this night, and groans aloud to discover that she had mysteriously forgotten to wear a nightgown beneath it.

“I thought you could not wait bare-skinned,” he kisses into her skin, and her fingers clench around the back of his neck as she gasps.

“And I thought you could see me, husband,” is all she manages to quip in return, but the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest soars through her whole being, much like his kissing. Every breath of his that caresses her every each of body sinks through the skin and muscle and sinew to light her very bones onto fire - liquid gold that courses in her veins, pumping by her heart - her heart is his, and his is hers, and they’ll always be one as they always have before -

“I would rather touch you,” he pants, and kisses the tip of her nose, which she scrunches. “Feel you.” And his thick, corded thighs part hers as his fingers dip below - proving his touch to make her back arch, her eyes squeeze shut - the fur against her naked back scraping so soft and gentle, but he’s gentler.

There are days and nights when passion snaps and cracks faster than a whip - hungry and thirsty and desperate - but tonight is not that. Tonight drinks deep from a cup of wine, heady on the tongue and dizzying.

His fingers emerge glistening as her head spins - he tastes first, and then with a crooked smile offers to her - she catches his hand in hers to lick him clean, holding his golden gaze as she does so and earning a hearty chuckle.

“So sweet,” he purrs. “Always so sweet, my love.”

A curtain seems to fall around them, glittering like stars and trapping them safely within - she’s always safe within his arms, held secure from the ills of the world with his protection and his love. Centuries made good, one after another, since before worlds began - and yet, the awe is always the same when they’re bound as husband and wife and knitting their hearts together tighter and tighter each time.

With a grunt he twists their tangle of limbs so that she can fly - mounted tall on his veined length and eagerly watching the emotion play on his face as he stares up at her. Firelight glowing against his skin, his lips curled into a smile as she takes the lead. Soon his head falls back, eyelids closing slightly though she can see a slit of golden orbs beneath - with her teeth biting almost painfully into her lip, she sighs with him, moving, moving, moving, to hear him murmur her name entwined with words of love.

He touches her everywhere he can reach, and when he strokes her breasts it’s the strike of flint against steel - her cry of climax echoing within the library walls and bouncing back - a witness to tomes on the study of love that this, this is what it is. This is what it’s meant to be. More than dusty theories or monotonous commentaries; this is the action and the living and the life.

He’s smiling when she catches her breath again.

“You grow more beautiful each time,” he tells her, his hand cupping her face - releasing a sigh with a shaky laugh, she catches his wrist and twists her head to kiss his palm. “No, ‘tis true, my love,” he adds, one eyebrow quirking high. “I can see it.”

“Flatterer,” she says fondly, and bends over him to kiss his mouth - his laugh and hers caught between their lips and forgotten as the wave of heat courses again.

And so it goes until the first pink tendrils of dawn break through the frosty windows of the library - over and over again, between musing exchanges on this or that, between tender kisses and companionable silences. As he must leave at dawn, she insists that he sit on the edge of the sofa so that she can rub out the tension in his shoulders that comes from the weight of his armor - they have only a few moments more until the end.

“My love,” he says, as she presses her thumbs deep into his muscles. “You might visit Njal today.”

“I saw our son for luncheon only yesterday. Has something changed?”

A pause - and then heavy as the earth, “It will.”

She does not like that tone of voice. She knows it - she knows the foreboding. But she also knows that nothing at all will convince her husband to share more information. And so she merely breathes in, and leans forward to kiss his whiskery cheek from behind.

“I shall see him again, then. If he is not too busy training with the einherjar.”

“Take our daughters with you.”

“And will not join us, husband?” she asks.

“I will. But I will be late.”

“How late?”

Another pause. Still she tries to knead out the knots he carries - but they are more stubborn than she is strong, and so she takes to kissing his shoulder blades, for that comfort, at least.

“I will join you by sunset tomorrow.”

“I shall hold you to that.”

He turns his head, then - his smile, though stilted, is all the assurance she needs. Whatever will come, will come - they have weathered wars and death and pain before, and they will again. Her heart aches for the future, for the unknown, for the questions bubbling inside - no, she has never been able to imagine his burden, and she never will. But in that burden he still seeks her, still loves her, and when he lifts her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles, she wishes for magic to pause this parting forever.

“I must go now. But I will return.”

Hope is a golden shroud. She helps him to dress once more, and kisses him farewell - soon early risers will be seeking the library, and so she slips away after he is gone, shadow by shadow, to leave this meeting place.

The next time they meet, it will be in the forest fleeing for their lives, but she doesn’t know it yet.

#heimdall #heimdall x reader #heimdall smut #avengers #marvel

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beastenraged · 3 years ago

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Dream like a Memory

Another POV of this by @hallowed-nebulae. Tempests verse is theirs, while Tell Me verse is my playpen. :)

Even is not a man that enjoys the pangs of sympathy that strike at his Heart here and there. It makes things for difficult for him, especially when those pangs are attached to individuals particularly not keen on sympathy from him.

However.

There is someone sniffling in some dusty corner of the castle. A sound that might be tugging at his heartstrings. Slightly.

“Are you alright?”

That skin and hair...Even has his theories on who exactly this child is. Especially considering that the other two are already variations on others he’s met before, however briefly.

But that doesn’t matter. He, they, aren’t the same as the man Even once knew and followed after. Anymore than Ruse is Riku or Xion Sora.

No answer. He tries again.

“Are you alright? What are you doing down here?”

This time Even kind of gets an answer? The child blinks at him like a lazy cat. Somewhat aware. “M tired. And lonely.”

That’s as good of an answer as any, he supposes. Where are their companions?

He reaches out, pulls the child onto their feet. They follow, a puppet on tangled strings.

“May I...pick you up?” Even asks, feeling...well. He has no idea what he feels.

The child considers it, before eventually nodding. Once they do, he carefully lifts them up in his arms to walk briskly down the hall. To the lab, where he has a cot. For reasons.

For some odd and surprising reason, Ruse is on the cot in his lab when Even gets there. A place she usually avoids. But isn’t for some reason.

“I screwed up so bad,” Ruse moans, squishing her face into the pillow. “I should have known better, of course they wouldn’t be fine, Ven probably already hates me since I said that thing about Terra and-”

Not to cut into this pity party. But.

“Ruse,” Even enunciates clearly. “I need you to get off the bed.”

She pauses. “Ah, right. You’re here, because this is your space. And you need it. Yes.”

Then she rolls off to make space. Even ignores the quiet thud and ‘ow’ that comes from her hitting the ground, electing to instead to place the child on the bed.

Said child curls up into a ball. Reminding him of Ienzo, on the poorer days. A pity Mirage no longer exists as a comforting stuffed animal to use.

“What can I do?” Even muses. The child is muttering something. He leans a little closer to catch exactly what.

The answer isn’t exactly enlightening. “Chirithy?”

“Chirithy’s a kind of Dream Eater.” Ruse nervously taps her chin from where she lays on the floor, looking up at him. “Maybe I could help? Somehow?”

“How so?” Even asks, with a speck of curiosity. “Due to your own connection with Dreams, I suppose?”

She pauses. Again. Tilting her head. “Well, sort of. I’ll try.”

Her scarred hand reaches. Hesitates. “But maybe I shouldn’t. Since this is probably my fault too...”

“Is there any way, in any shape or form, for you to explain exactly what you did, to drive our guests away?” Even asks in an acid tone.

“I asked a friend of mine to come by, to help get them home,” Ruse explains, “But that friend...isn’t someone they like very much where they come from.”

...how short-sighted of her. But Even finds himself almost relieved that what’s this is, a mistake made from the common thought-faults of most teenagers. Normal.

“If this is a result of a mistake, fix what you can of it.”

(Even if it’s all you can do. Even if too much is broken.)

“Okay.” Ruse nods. “You’re not...that’s not bad advice.”

Even frowns. “I always have good advice.”

“Okay, okay! I’m doing it!” Once her hands touch (by the child, not directly on them), she immediately starts to hum. Something soothing, unfamiliar.

Somehow, the tune seems to be calming the child down, luring them to a gentle slumber.

Everything Ruse sings has a name. So. “What is this called?”

She stops mid-hum. “Oh. It’s home. It’s Daybreak Town.”

#hallowed-nebula #kh ficlet #ficlet #tell me verse #tell me crossover #tempests verse #ruse has...more dream eater than replica in her really #there's actually a speck of explanation for this connection in Tell Me's Secret Ending #it has to do with ruse being a Dream Eater and alt!xehanort being a xehanort #storm whispers au

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quietlyimplode · 3 years ago

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Natasha Romanoff Masterlist of Fic Recs - Version 2.0 - Page 3

Page 1 / Page 2 / Page 3 / Page 4 / Page 5

Updated June 2021

This is not an exhaustive list (and in no order whatsoever) of the brilliant fic that is out there. Please let me know of any i have missed or any recs to put in and I will endeavour to add it. I have not included warnings or ratings. Please make sure you look at the tags, judge for yourself and as always take care of yourself first. (16 authors under the cut)

Andibeth @isjustprogress

Dialogue of Self and Soul - 7-7 series - Clint/Nat - Natasha unexpectedly gets pregnant, but everyone knows that assassins can’t be mothers. // Set Post Avengers: the story a spy who wasn’t made for parenthood, and the journey it takes to go from one extreme to the other.

I took a heavenly ride through your silence - POST ENDGAME - Natasha dies but wakes up in 2012. CLint/Nat/Laura 1/1

Though I play at the edges of knowing - Clint/nat. Post Infinity war - five times Natasha looked back on her past - 1/1

Winter in the Pub - Natasha/Nebula - drinks in the pub. If only they knew how alike they are. 1/1

Pour like Honey, through the darkness - Nat/Bucky/Clint - comicverse natasha fakes her own death. 1/1

Like a shadow or a friend - Nat/Clint - asexual Natasha navigating the brave new world of shield - 1/1

That would be enough - Natasha/Barton family - one shots/prompts assorted. 57/?

The war can’t touch us here - Nat/Clint/Laura/Maria/Steve - Natasha is born in war but saved by others. 1/1

Laura Barton’s House for Wayward Trauma Survivors - Nat/Laura/Wanda/Bucky/Clint - What do you mean, bringing a few guests?” Laura asks suspiciously. 1/1

We will light up the sky as we burn it down - Clint/Nat - meet me in Montauk. Nothing is ever as bad as it seems. 1/1

We are not all that stares back. Clint/Nat - tell me something true. Natasha holds onto words he tells her.

And this is how you keep her - Nat/Clint - Natasha helps Clint heal after the avengers 1/1

If we are not spies - Nat/Clint - she’s been running, but he finds her. 1/1

Synergy - Clint/Nat - five times they spent New Year’s Eve together . 6/6

And when we’re there we’ll belong. Series - Clint, Laura and Natasha: a family’s journey, and the long (and sometimes winding) road to love. [Reading order:]

⁃i. i love only that which they defend (main storyline) 1/1

⁃ii. til the clocks run down (expanded main storyline – can be read independently but does slot into the main fic in certain ways, specifically in regards to scene placement, timing, and assumed character knowledge)til the clocks run down 21/21

⁃iii. for the half of ourselves we have lost (post age of ultron, pre/post civil war) for the half of ourselves we have lost 19/19

⁃iv. how to feel a tranquil life (post infinity war)how to feel a tranquil life 11/11

⁃v. moments [the world can’t stop us] (timestamps for clint, nat and laura for this universe, can be read independently of previous three stories) 7/7

Dancing in the dark turmoil - Clint/Nat - if anyone can find this link?? (You’re my best friend. When was I not?)

Shellybelle @geniusorinsanity

Nor we need power or splendour- Clint/Nat/Laura - a powerful look at the Clint/Nat/Laura - and how they fit together given all pasts and trauma. 18/18

If the two were one - Clint/Nat/Team - five times the team found out Clint/Nat were married - 1/1

All the transparence (in shades of red) - Clint/Nat - Clint’s broken after Loki. Natasha meets him in buffalo. 1/1

If you let me through the door, we can let the world in - tony/team. Tony built the tower - for his friends. 1/1

Like a clock in a thunderstorm - Clint/Nat - thunderstorms and confessions - 1/1

Conversations by other means - Clint/Nat - fight and a good fuck - 1/1

A gift like joy - Clint/Nat - Clint comforts Natasha (non-sexually) after a mission requires her to sleep with someone for information. 1/1

Rarely short on caring - Claire Temple /various superhero’s - Caring for others is not always so hard.

No matter what she tells you - Natasha - 5 lies Natasha tells. 1/1

Eiluned @eiluned

Read all the smut. Seriously.

Troika series - Clint/Nat/Darcy - the deliciousness of smut - 8/8

underneath and unexplored - Nat/Clint - progression of Natasha’s emotions in 5 parts. 1/1

We make a life by what we give - Clint/Nat - Christmas Celebrations - 1/1

Play it by ear - Clint/Nat - Natasha has a secret, she loves Clint. 1/1

Know Thyself - Clint/Nat - after shield collapses, Natasha searches for who she is.

The Cat - Clint/Nat - Natasha is stealthy like a cat. 1/1

Two Solitudes - Clint/Nat - Natasha knows Clint. Trust with secrets leads to more. 1/1

Heart Hides a Secret - Clint/Nat - series of 3 one shots.

Five Times Clint and Natasha Slept Together (and the First Time They Slept Together) - Clint/Nat - 5+1 1/1

Scribblemyname @scribblemyname

Merry Russian Christmas - Maria/Nat - Maria wants Natasha as a friend - 1/1

Shall we dance? Clint/Nat - clint took a chance in saving Nat. She wants to find him to say 1/1

Learning Natasha (again) - Natasha/team - Natasha learns how to be around people - 1/1

They died with me - Clint/Nat - Clint says I love you, Natasha responds. 1/1

Remind me how to breathe - Nat/Clint - Natasha has a miscarriage, Clint needs her to live for him. 1/1

Deep in the throes - Maria/Natasha - Maria helps to reprogram Natasha. They become friends. 1/1

For better or for worse - Clint/Nat - they’ve seen each other at their worst. 1/1

Mitigation - Clint/Bobbi/Nat - brainwashing makes strange bedfellows - 3/3

Good with strays - Clint/Nat/Laura - Clint brings Natasha to the farm. Laura is the link to bring her to shield. 1/1

Crazy4Orcas @crazy4orcas

Underneath it all - Clint/Nat - Clint learns about Natasha’s moods through the clothes she wears - 1/1

Just what the doctor ordered - Barton thinks Natasha is perfect. 1/1

Twelve days of Clintasha (with @cassiesinsanity) - 12 days of Christmas Clint/Nat Style.

Kiss and Run - Clint/Nat - Natasha runs after a kiss. 1/1

Arukou @arukou-arukou

Loop - Clint/Nat - even free of the red room she’s not free of the handcuffs - 1/1

That One Blind Writer - @that-one-blind-writer

Tumblr for the one shots which range from Clint/Nat to Bucky/Nat

Spectral archers @spectralarchers

cute morning texts - Nat/Clint- Natasha sends Clint texts in the morning. Clint doesn’t do mornings - 1/1

Swallow your soul - Clint/Laura Clint/Nat - Clint’s past comes to haunt him.

Wildechilde17 @transparentlyfallingasleep

In the marketplace or the Main Street you are mine - Clint/Nat - one shots of Clint/Nat - men and women loving each other without being totally derailed by it. 66/66

Flipflop_diva

If it takes three - Clint/Nat/Laura - so the thing is Clint and Nat accidentally got married. Laura’s ok with this. 1/1

If I be worthy (how can this be)- Natasha/Shuri - pre and post iw- Thor’s hammer -1/1

And in the end I’ll always be there - Nat/Tony - he’ll always find her - 1/1

The ties that bind - Clint/Nat/Laura - three decades of Natashas’ life. 3/3- can be read as 1 shots

The hardest thing, this decision I made - Steve/Natasha - Natasha has an abortion - 1/1

On this sleepless night - Tony/Nat - they both can’t sleep, he tries to figure out why she’s not asleep - 1/1

Nowhere to turn except in your arms- Nat/Steve/Tony - 1/1

Miss Jeeves

any way I do - team - tony discovers Clint/Nat got married.

Unbreakable92

warm me by your fire - Bruce/Nat - Natasha needs the warmth she has searched for so long more than ever when a kidnapping brings some violent flashbacks to the forefront.

Miss adoration @adorationamy

aftershock - Natasha/Clint- scenes after natashas brain scramble in ultron - 1/1

Builder @builder051

Nat on Fire Series - Natasha has crap coping mechanisms but she’s surviving the only way she knows how. 19/?

Creedless Assassins Series - Natasha and Clint as they make their way through. 10/?

Mohini @mohini-musing

Coming Home Series - Natasha is taken care of by Clint and Laura. 6/? Clint/Nat/Laura

Salamander

Fragments - Clint/Nat/Laura - “I know you.” “Do you?” Clint takes Natasha somewhere safe. 1/1

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soulguardianazeralith · 3 years ago

Text

Uninvited Guests

Aka me taking this post as a challenge to write a drabble with demons dragging Billiam and Butler to Lazarus.

@ksqwildwest

The small demon mused while overhearing the annoyed (and retired? He wasn’t sure yet.) sheriff, responding to the pile of letters aloud to himself. On one hand, they considered trying to make a deal with him like he had to the Author, but he also didn’t want to deal with getting shot. Again. There was a reason he stopped trying to steal from his farm.

They tore off the wanted poster and floated to the other side of town, making sure that the author was asleep for once. After hearing the gentleness of three sets of snores, he entered the sheriff’s office and sat in front of the jail cell. They really didn’t want to do this, but he had to at least give his pal the heads up.

“Crops.”

“Comet.”

Vesper narrowed his eyes, unamused by the other’s cackle. He knew he was only saying that to annoy him, but that wasn’t the reason he was here.

“I need you to be prepared for a…. Special delivery come the next morning. You might feel…. A bit unalive for about a month but you should come back relatively fine.”

Crops rose an eyebrow, intrigue clear in his eyes despite his body screaming hostility.

“I didn’t realize you would get me food to die for, meteor.”

The demon had to control their patience very well.

“Trust me on this. It would make the town a bit more at ease. Plus? You get to eat rich.”

Vesper waited silently in anticipation as the other considered what was being offered. If he agreed, all the demon would have to do is drag the person to the sheriff..s? If he didn’t agree, he couldn’t really see a reason to go and get the criminal.

“Sure. I’ll keep it in mind. Now go run off, I need to actually sleep. Percy is going to visit in a bit and I ain’t gonna fall asleep during our chat again.”

The demon half bowed, before getting up.

“Until we meet again, Crops.”

“Until then, Milky Way.”

“OKAY, THAT ONE WAS A STRETCH THIS TIME-“

A low knock echoed through the mansion, causing the heir to the estate to pause his travels. He didn’t have any plans for a masquerade ball this time of the month yet, nor had he planned to have guests over. He half glared to his employee, causing the boy to flinch.

“Butler, answer the door, won’t you?”

The boy trembles before moving to open the door, arms still carrying four shelves worth of books. They got intercepted by the other butler of the house.

“Hubert, that command wasn’t toward you.”

The other butler, Hubert, half glared at the heir.

“He’s busy, my lord. Allow me to do this task in his stead.”

The heir said nothing, simply grunting and standing by. Hubert walked passed, sending an apologetic look to Butler (It pained him knowing that he didn’t actually know the kid’s name.) before opening the door. He immediately jumped back in dread, pale to the face. He could hear books falling to the floor behind him as all three of the surviving residents looked at the uninvited guest.

“Good evening, morsels.”

The two butlers took a fearful step back, only for the heir to shove the younger of the two toward the horrifying guest, making an attempt to rush up the stairs. Hubert lunged forward, feeling light as he managed to catch Butler just in time by a chance of luck. The heir on the other hand, felt heavier and miscalculated a step, slamming down hard onto the steps of the large staircase.

The demon walked into the room, towering over the heir. They glanced at the paper that was held in their puppet’s hand. Yes. This was the one they needed.

A harsh knocking rang out on Sherman’s door, causing his head to echo the sound back to him. He sighed as he woke more up, moving to the front of the house. His eyes squinted as he looked out the window, barely seeing the sun rising. No one in the town woke up this early unless it was important.

He pulled open the door, seeing the short star demon shifting their weight nervously on their heels. Their form was still a inky nebula, not yet affected by the rays of the sun barely peeking over the horizon and mountains. He didn’t think it was possible to describe someone with their only facial features visible being their eyes as looking exhausted, but it was interesting to witness regardless.

“Sheriff.”

“Retired. What do you want, rat.”

Vesper sighed, shoulders drooping. This only caused Sherman to raise an eyebrow in confusion as he gets handed a piece of paper. He barely glanced at it before dropping it as if he were burned.

“Explain yourself before I shoot your other ankle.”

The demon responds the one way he knows how: by moving to the side and showing the two people tied up on the floor. It took the man a moment to even register their faces before seeming more confused.

“John?”

“It’s not the barkeep. Found these two at a mansion. Didn’t know how to exactly get them here when they kept thinking I was going to kill them so I did the whole ‘tie them up and float all the way here’ trick-“

“To the point, demon.”

Vesper sighed, floating over to them and gesturing to the younger of the two.

“I overheard you reading a note about some wanted man stealing a kid from here. This is him.”

Sherman stared at them, his expression growing more and more concerned. They both looked severely underfed, and even the older of the two looked like he was struggling to even stay conscious despite the fear in their eyes. It took an extra moment before he connected the pieces and glared at Vesper.

“If these two are here, where is Billiam.”

Vesper smiled, his form becoming more human as the sun rose high. Sherman looked up slightly as he heard the sound of muffled shouts and thick clicking of bones. There, behind the small demon, was a towering structure of bones in humanoid form. And inside, trapped under the skull and rib cage of it, was Billiam; although his breathing sounded calm, Sherman could see the terror in his barely visible eyes. The larger demon cackled a laugh, causing the four non demons to flinch.

“I was promised his corrupt, greasy heart for bringing him to you. So be proud, little swine! We’ve brought to you a gift to two of your many problems you mortals suffer!”

#kaine writes nonsense #vesper the star demon #styx the bone demon #look I wanted to also drop in the other butler character Dream was supposed to play but couldnt. if the priest could exist then why not him?

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mshermia · 4 years ago

Text

Christmas Eve - At Peace

That holiday-themed story that I will totally blame @superherotiger for making me procrastinate with ;)

###

Just a couple of months after they defeated Thanos, Tony and Pepper throw a Christmas party. Instead of a partying kid, Tony finds his Spiderling outside in the snow at the grave he has been trying to ignore ever exists.

I'm using my own Fix-it to Endgame "Like You'd know how it works" as a basis for the timeline, though the prompt will work fine without having read that story. The important part is, that Tony's not dead.

Baseline: circa 5 months after Tony is brought back from the multiverse.

###

The sky above him was clear. No clouds. No moon. Above him only the stars. The stars, he still avoided looking at too much. It made the night a little colder, a little darker despite the white snowy blanket covering the hills and trees.

It wasn't that Tony minded the solitude, quite the opposite. That had been the idea behind moving out to the cabin after all. Peace and quiet. Less exposure. Privacy. But of all the places on their property, why did the kid have to go there?

In all fairness, there was nothing quiet or peaceful about what was going on at Tony's house right now. There were 13 people gathered in his living room and kitchen, one of them a black-eyed alien who didn't quite understand the concept of Christmas but had been positively eager to experience all the "merriment and joy" that the little Madame Secretary had been promising from afar. Leave it to Tony to have to explain a spaceship landing in his backyard on Christmas Eve and talk down an international response.

"Morgan said it's an important gathering that every family member is obligated to attend." Nebula's eyes were on Tony, unblinking. "You should have told me sooner. I could have been here last year and the year before but I didn't know."

"Not to worry, Smurfette." There was a sense of genuine joy at seeing her again, that let the smile on his lips come quite easily. "You're here now, so that's that."

It was a sight to be seen how willingly the blue meanie allowed Morgan to put a party hat on her before she was sent off to mingle with the rest of them, studying the mini hot dogs on her plate. That hadn't been the only surprising sight of the evening though. Tony's jaw had equally popped with stunned surprise as he opened the door to a paler and distinctly shorter human version of Bruce Banner. A face Tony hadn't seen on him in years, as he showed up on his doorstep accompanied by a certain master spy that Tony had frankly not been expecting either.

"Making things work then," Tony mused out loud as he hovered next to them while Pepper fetched a welcoming drink.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Just... you know... happy to... to have her back."

"Of course." His head bobbed a short nod with a sincere smile in Natasha's direction. There was no denying that Tony, too, was glad to have her back. Retired or not, he had no illusions that the Avengers would remain anything but a constant in his life one way or another and while Natasha might never be a definite number on his side, she was an ally. Of sorts.

"Well, it's good to see you guys. I know it's quite a drive out here and we had suspected things might be a little more entertaining at the Compound." His thoughts still trailing a little behind, the words had slipped off his tongue before his brain could catch up with what he was saying. He hadn't meant to just straight up mention the Compound, the rest of the team by extension who hadn't received an invite to this particular gathering.

Pepper had wanted to discuss the guest list more than once. Had asked him repeatedly if he wanted to extend an invitation to the others, the team... but Rogers... Steve... no. Christmas was for family and while Bruce and his plus one did count - because Tony wanted him to count - Steve... Steve was not family. When it came down to it, they were hardly even friends. Natasha's eyes were on him and Tony was painfully aware that he was spacing out. No glasses to hide his face, all of a sudden he felt almost too exposed in his own house.

"Oh, we're just splitting the time equally over the holidays." Natasha smiled brightly. "Christmas Eve with one side of the family and then Christmas Day with the other."

Bruce's face fell a little, looking back and forth between them. "It's not sides as much as... just..."

They were saved from more awkwardness as Pepper arrived with the drinks and ushered them further into the house. Bruce was happy to follow along but Natasha hung back, her eyes still on Tony.

"There don't have to be any sides in this." She linked their arms, pushing Tony along, as Bruce shot a glance back at them, just out of earshot. "You can just decide to let it go, Tony."

"I did." It wasn't all that easy to keep the tone light but he was determined not to let this get to him. "I told him, I moved on from all of this years ago."

"We both know that's not the same as solving the real problem." Her voice was low but not unkind. "We both know you never forgave or forget, that he has never earned back your trust."

It didn't matter. He didn't even want to think about how much of that was or wasn't true. Rogers had no place in his thoughts tonight. So the timing was perfect when his eyes came to rest on a brown-haired boy who was creeping closer and closer to the pot of mulled wine. With a lame excuse, he pulled away from Natasha, away from the world he had officially retired from towards the buffet.

"And what do you think you're doing?"

"Me?" The boy's eyes were wide, the cup in his hand already filled to the brim.

"Listen here, squirrel!" His finger poking against Harley's chest, Tony could at least pretend that this was a situation he could actually control. "You take your grabby hands off that mulled wine or so help me..." He snatched the hot drink out of the boy's hands.

"Oh, come on..." His long lashes were blinking at Tony with feigned innocence. "It's not for me."

"That routine might work on some indifferent cater waiter at those benefits but if you think I can't see past your ridiculously lazy—"

"Yeah, yeah..." Harley just waved him off. "Don't be such a killjoy!"

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "I mean it!" For good measure, he took a healthy gulp from the cup, positively burning his throat in the process. But it wasn't until Harley threw his hands in the air and turned his back in defeat - for now - that Tony allowed his face to cringe at the sting. Those little trouble makers were not helping with his heart condition. Speaking of trouble... "Where is Peter?"

Harley crossed his arms in front of himself, his mind clearly brooding on a new strategy. "No clue."

Tony's next sip of the hot wine was a lot smoother than the first. "What do you mean, no clue?"

"It generally means that the person doesn't have any information about the subject that you are—"

"Alright, short stuff..." Tony's eyes were searching the room but the little spider was nowhere to be seen. "A bit less of the asshole routine please?"

"Listen, if you want me to babysit, same rules apply as they do for Morgan." Brazen in his brattiness, the little shit ladled a good helping of mulled wine into a new cup. "I'll need a heads-up and generous compensation that I'm happy to re-negoti— Hey!"

Harley tried to hold on to the cup that Tony once again just plucked from his hands. "You've had enough of this!"

"That one is for Rhodey," the boy scowled.

"Uh-huh. Sure. I'll get it to him and you can enjoy your night without any errands, hm?"

Tony made a point to stare at the kid until he huffed and finally skedaddled away from the wine pot, possibly in search of his sister, or maybe more likely trying to stay out of her and Morgan's way. Careful not to spill either of the two cups, Tony made his way across the room towards Rhodey who had brought a "friend", a development Tony had been mindful not to comment on all night.

The Colonel's eyes looked him up and down as he made a beeline towards them. "Because one is never enough with you, is it, Tones?"

"You..." he hissed, his lips pursed. "You better not try to quip with me, you enabler!" Tony pushed the second cup he was holding into Carol Danvers' hands instead of Rhodey's. "Are you seriously letting my boy use you as an exit strategy to score a buzz?"

Rhodey's eyes shifted to the cup in his "friend" Carol's hands before he nipped on what was left in his own cup and then gave a shrug. "Which one?"

"That's not funny!"

With a deep sigh, Rhodey exchanged his empty cup with Carol's hot one. "Tony, you need to lay off the mother-hen vibes. The boy is 21 years old, as for Peter—."

"No, he's not," Tony growled. "Not for another 6 days!"

"Geez, daddy, do I really have to remind you how old you were when I 'enabled'," Rhodey air-quoted, "your ass in college?"

He said it like he had a point when that was exactly what Tony was afraid of. "And how did that turn out?"

His eyebrows pulled up, Rhodey made a gesture like that would somehow prove something, but Tony was not in the mood for semantics. His eyes roamed across the room - pointedly ignoring Harley who tried to usher Nebula closer and closer to the pot of hot wine - in search of the other little trouble maker.

Where was the kid? He hadn't seen him since... since he had ducked away from awkwardly shuffling his feet back and forth between May and Happy. Without another word, Tony strode past his friend, checking the kitchen but there was no Peter in there either. Everyone else was happily chatting, eating, enjoying themselves exactly like they were supposed to. Not so the Spiderling.

For a few more minutes, Tony quietly, discreetly wandered around the house. He had a feeling, a feeling that something was up. It didn't take long for him to give up the pretense and outright mutter to FRIDAY, asking in which room Peter was hiding.

"He's not in the house, boss."

That was how Tony found himself outside, stalking up a snowy hill in the dark. The wind was icy, but it wasn't the cold that made the hair on the back of his neck stand tall. He had avoided this for months. Had avoided even thinking about that spot on the hill where his other-dimensional self had been buried before he ever made it to this timeline. With how loudly his brain was rattling, there was a part of him that couldn't deny that right about now, he appreciated the silence in the dark. They were so far away from what people would call the 'civilized' world out here. Surely, with Peter's senses constantly strained in the city, that was the basic appeal to him as well.

It was also how Peter had heard him coming before Tony even had the chance to call out to him.

"How did you find me?"

A little winded from the slippery ascend to the hilltop, Tony paused a couple of steps behind where the boy was sitting in the snow. "Oh, come on... It's me."

Peter pursed his lips, refusing to turn his head. "So, you questioned every single person at the house about when they had seen me last and then calculated the radius of how far I might have come?"

Tony only blew out a huff.

"Ah," Peter exclaimed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Tracking me after all, aren't you."

"Well, duh." Slowly, Tony came closer until he sank to the ground right next to the boy. "Not that I needed it. You're a Spiderling, not an Elf, kid."

"Right." Peter grimaced to himself. "Footprints."

"I keep telling you. Gotta learn how to fly."

The smile that tucked on Peter's lips seemed genuine this time. "You didn't have to come out here."

All of a sudden, Tony contemplated that the boy may have picked this particular spot not because of what it meant to him, but because he had been sure that of all the places, few of the people staying at the house that night would voluntarily wander up here. Tony least of all. There was no denying that the kid had picked up on how much this all freaked Tony out, the fact that there was a dead version of himself buried so close to where he still lived. Silence hung heavy between them before Tony's voice echoed a little quieter, a little hesitant.

"I wasn't sure if I should, but..." He swallowed hard. "I can leave if you want to be alone."

There was another pause. Wanting to give him room to speak if that was what he wanted, Tony waited but the kid didn't say a thing.

With a shaky exhale, Tony kept his eyes on him. "But then I thought, I'd rather have you send me back than not be here if... if you would need me."

The kid's eyes were still staring straight ahead at the headstone in front of them.

"I know, I'm not him—"

"Of course you are," Peter breathed quietly.

Tony lowered his gaze, faltering. Maybe. "Not really though."

The kid's lip was caught between his teeth, refusing to look over at him. "In... in every way that matters."

"If you want to talk about it—"

"I don't," Peter mumbled.

It had been weeks after he had come back when Tony's curiosity had won out against his anxiety. Late at night on his own in the basement, he had asked FRIDAY to play him the footage of what had happened that day. That day he had died. Pepper, the kid, Rhodey... seeing their agony in the face of what he had done to protect them... it was a memory he just couldn't shake.

"I know, me being here doesn't change what happened. Kid, I know you were there when he..." Tony glanced to the side, searching the kid's face for a reaction. "...when I died."

Peter's head moved in a mixture of a shake and a shrug. "It... it doesn't matter..." His voice shook, possibly trying to convince himself as much as Tony. "You're back. You're... here. It... it's fine..."

"You're sitting at my grave in the freezing cold in the middle of my Christmas Eve party, buddy."

It was as bluntly as he could put it. He could see no benefit in tiptoeing around the demons the kid was battling.

But Peter shook his head more distinctly this time, still denying him. "It was just because... so many people and my senses, they... I just needed a little quiet to... calm down."

"Right. We have about 60 hectares of land out here and still..." Tony blew out a breath and leaned a little closer to the kid. "Still, this is the spot you picked to go." There was no answer from the Spiderling. "It's okay, if it still hurts, buddy."

The humorless chuckle that bubbled out of the kid didn't make things better for either of them.

"Pete, can you look at me?"

He didn't though. His eyes didn't stray from the inscription on the stone. 'A.E.S. - At peace.' A shudder went through Tony at the thought of how his wife had decided on that particular inscription.

"You're here." Peter's eyes dropped further, away from the stone, down to the snowy ground. "You're okay. It... it shouldn't matter..."

Tony grit his teeth then threw caution to the wind. "It's been 5 years and a little more than 8 months since you dusted in my arms, Pete."

The kid visibly shook next, his hands braced against the cold ground as he finally turned to look at Tony.

"5 years, 8 months, and some odd days." Tony's lower lip was caught between his teeth, his cheeks flushed. The images in his mind were as vivid as they had been on that fateful day on Titan. "You're here now. You're back. You have been back for 6 months and I can still hear your voice in my head pleading how you don't—"

"I'm sorry..." the kid whispered.

Tony huffed out a low chuckle. "Yeah. You said that too."

"I'm sorry that... that you felt responsible," the kid started and Tony had just wanted to protest when the boy stopped him with a wave of his hand. "I am, but it's not the same."

For a brief moment, Tony closed his eyes, trying his best to calm himself and keep the dry bite from his tone. "No. It really isn't the same."

The breath Peter blew out was harsher, angrier. "It's not, because I didn't choose to get dusted," he growled, refusing to look away from Tony now. "I didn't want to die!"

"I know, Pete. I remember." The beat of his heart hurt in his chest. "You think I would have wanted to die?"

Peter shook his head, tearing his gaze away again. "It doesn't matter."

"Kid—"

"Can we just... I don't want to argue about this."

Peter pulled his knees close to his chest and the way his hands were shaking made Tony want to drag him back inside so he could focus on giving him a proper lecture without having to worry about the cold the kid might catch out here.

Instead, he filed that back for later, deep breaths keeping his own frustration in check. "Maybe we do need to argue about this."

"I just want to move on!"

"And I..." Tony couldn't stop his voice from shaking. "...would really appreciate a chance to argue my side here."

"You don't need to argue your side," the kid hissed at him. "It's not you, I'm mad at, okay?"

Tony studied his boy. He was becoming painfully aware, how strung up the kid really was, how agitated. "It's not a choice anyone wants to make, kid. Sometimes, there is just no other way to —"

"There were like 10 people close by who could have done it." Peter shot him an angry glance. "It didn't have to be you! What about Morgan and Pepper, huh? What about—" He shook his head, eyes back on the snow-covered grave. "Captain Danvers. Thor. King T'Challa. The lady with the flying horse. Strange. Rogers. Barnes. Wanda Maximoff. Me." His head spun back towards Tony. "I could have tried."

Tony's stomach turned at the mere thought of that. "Yeah, there's no way in hell, Pete."

"Why not?" Peter's eyes burned with tears. "Why not! I could have taken it!"

"You have no idea if that's true." His heart was racing, his throat dry. "You might have died."

"So it's fine for you to sacrifice yourself on a whim but for me it—"

"Stop!" The way his hand hit the ground didn't have the grand effect he wanted. "That's not how this will work, kid. Ever. I will always try to keep you safe."

"And what about what I want?" Peter spat at him.

Tony shook his head, his eyebrows knitted close, desperately grasping for control. "I'm here now, am I not?"

"Yeah, for now..."

Any frustrated retort that might have been building up on his tongue died instantly as he watched the boy rub a hand across his face, the way his lower lip was quivering.

"Kid... come here..." His agitation evaporated and without another beat of hesitation, Tony pulled him close, his arms tightly wrapped around the boy's small frame. "Shh, it'll... it'll be alright."

There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do that would take away the pain of the days when he had seemed lost forever to the people who loved him most. Just like Tony would never be able to quite shake the deep sense of loss he had carried for years when the kid had been dead and gone.

Peter's hands were clasping the thick fabric of Tony's coat, his face pressed against his chest.

There was nothing he could say, no promises he would make, not the ones the kid wanted to hear right now cause he could never keep any of them. When it came to the kid's safety, his life, he would always put it above his own. No matter how much it might hurt him again, at least the kid would be breathing, would get to live.

"I'm sorry, buddy."

"But... but you're not," he mumbled against Tony's jacket.

He had a hand on the back of the kid's head, holding him tight. "I hate that I hurt you, Pete. I do." He pressed his eyes close, ignoring how the cold was creeping up from underneath him. "But I'll never apologize for trying to keep you safe." The boy shook in his arms, but Tony didn't let him pull away. "I sure as hell won't apologize for succeeding." There was a low tremor in the kid's body that was definitely more than emotions. "You're shaking, buddy. Let's get you back inside."

"I'm not c-cold," Peter hiccoughed.

"Alright, then..." Tony ruffled a hand through the boy's hair, his own digits frozen stiff. "Well, I'm going to get pneumonia and you seem to be very invested in—" He groaned as Peter slapped a hand against his chest.

"It's not f-funny!"

"No, at my age it really isn't something—"

This time, he caught the kid's hand just in time to soften the blow. In the process, Peter sat up straight enough for Tony to squint at his red-rimmed eyes.

"In there, you could watch me bust Harley for sneaking around the mulled wine?" There was a sparkle in the kid's eyes at that. A real sparkle he couldn't quite hide. "Ha! Knew I'd get you with that one."

Peter moved back a bit, shaky fingers rubbing his face. Squinting at the boy, Tony was weighing his words, wondering how many hornet's nest he should be poking at.

"You should get over this, buddy." Tony cringed at the look of utter discomfort on his boy's face. "I mean it. That little power struggle the two of you are going through..?"

"There's no power struggle."

Tony crocked his head at him. "You know what I mean... Kid, I know you want to keep your secrets but Harley can be a great ally to you."

"Right," Peter mumbled. "Can we just like... do this another time?"

He nodded before the kid had even finished the sentence. "Course, buddy." For a moment, Tony held in, his focus never anywhere else but Peter, as he tried to control the tremor in his voice. "So, we should get back inside, right?"

"Yeah. Right." The kid leaned back against him, his voice muffled. "Just... just a couple more minutes?"

Tony swallowed hard, nodding soundlessly. He'd never refuse the kid. Never. How could he ever?

###

Merry Christmas and happy holidays wherever and however you guys are celebrating!

Thank you for reading. And thank you even more if you take the time to let me know in the comments what you think about the story and reblog it!

This story is part of my Post-Endgame timeline. More about my Endgame Fix-it and the connected series of stories: “Like You’d Know How It Works” timeline

#tony stark #tony stark lives #IRON DAD AND SPIDER SON #iron dad #iron dad fanfiction #nebula #natasha x bruce #christmas #christmas eve #merry christmas #holiday themed #peter parker fic #peter parker #post-endgame #LYKHIW-timeline

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