Irondad Prompt #210:

Tony: You’re the love of my life, I would do anything for you. Stephen: I want you to eat 3 meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Tony: Absolutely not.

A beginning of a fic I’ve written in my head but too lazy to actually write #give loki a good found family. The outline of the full story is here

The fic takes place straight after Loki’s fall when he lands on Tatooine. Post ‘Thor’ 2011, post ‘The Book of Boba Fett’. Unreliable narrator!

Falling.

Shining rainbow becomes a dot.

And then – nothing.

Just – nothing.

The Void between the worlds is black. Not like the darkest night, not like ink – there’s nothing to see. Not a tiniest bit of any light. Loki cannot even see his own hand – it is stretched out? Or not there at all? He cannot feel it – cannot feel his own body… has it even been his own, though?

Loki cannot breathe. Does he even need to? He doesn’t feel his chest rising and falling, he doesn’t feel his own heartbeat. He cannot hear anything. And it’s not the eardrum pressure of the Bifrost – there’s just nothing to hear. No sound. Is he trying to speak? Scream? He doesn’t know. He cannot feel his own movements.

All he really comprehends is the voice in his head, repeating the end of his life over and over.

‘No, Loki’.

Not worthy of love. Not good enough in the eyes of his father. An evil little shadow of his glorious shining brother.

‘No, Loki’.

Only a couple of days – and Thor is forgiven for everything he presumably did wrong. A couple of days on Midgard – and now he is ready to lay aside his centuries-long hatred and contempt for the Jotuns and protect them. A couple of days in a company of a pretty woman – and he’s worthy of love and throne and respect again. A true son of Asgard.

‘No, Loki’.

Not you.

Thor has changed and is on his way to become a true king – but not because of your centuries-long attempts to make him better. But because of just a weekend with a woman he’s in love with. Of course, her influence is much more potent than his own brother’s.

Not brother’s.

Never was.

Loki wants to feel righteous rage… hurt… anything at all. But instead – numbness. Nothingness. Inside and outside of him. What’s the point of feelings, anyway? All that exists is nothing. Darkness. Weightlessness. Is he falling seconds? Centuries? Is he even falling? Is he still alive?

Loki doesn’t want to be anymore.

Yellow.

Numbness inside of him twitches.

Bleary yellowish spots in the darkness.

Becoming closer. A pull of gravity feels stronger and stronger.

Gravity?

Must be some space body. A planet? A star?

Loki doesn’t think it’s a star. He cannot see well – everything is blurred, he cannot distinguish the shape – but it’s not hot, not bursting with flames.

He summons all the magic he has, encasing himself in it and preparing for the entering the atmosphere – if there will be any. Not that he has any further plans – he feels like he isn’t capable of thinking anymore. All that remains is his survival instinct.

And then – heat envelops him. He tugs on his magic tighter and squeezes his eyes shut. Feeling of falling becomes much more prominent, and he hates every second of it.

But a feeling of something is glorious.

The sound of him piercing the air deafens him.

But he can hear again.

The impact of the landing makes his head ring and creates a cloud of… sand? Yes, yellow sand erupts around him. Loki feels particles of it covering his hands and face with a hot veil. And it feels. Just… feels. Oppressive air fills the lungs, Loki tries to breathe with a full chest, and it hurts as nine hells, just like the rest of his body, but he feels again.

For a second Loki is happy. It feels nice to be alive.

And he blacks out.

---

A sliver of light.

Sounds. Voices?

A feeling of movement. Transportation. Hardness behind his aching back. Smell of something greasy, machine oil and old clothes.

Chill.

Loki tries to open his eyes. Barely manages – it’s like an impossibly heavy task.

Tries to move his arms and legs – they’re as if made of uru metal.

The head is dizzy, he hurts all over. His eyes can hardly see – they got used to pitch darkness (‘No, Loki’… ). But he recognizes some kind of a room full of unidentifiable items scattered all over. A group of small hooded creatures is huddled together talking in half-babbling half-chittering language Loki cannot yet understand – he isn’t able to put his own thoughts into words, much less grasp speech of someone else. He tries and his head hurts more.

They saved him?

Loki looks down and realizes why he feels chilly. He has no armour, no weapons. Only his inner tunic remains unscavenged. Even his trousers are robbed of metal pieces, and his boots are also absent. He sees his daggers in the hands of the creatures – they twirl them, obviously discussing. Not going to give them back.

Loki stretches his hand and summons them.

Or tries.

The daggers barely move. Several items on the table nearby fall. The creatures jump and gasp, look at Loki with their glowing eyes from their hoods. Loki feels nauseous and helpless. Even his magic betrays him.

And then he loses consciousness again.

---

Next time Loki awakens, he’s in water. The liquid blurs everything around, it’s impossible to orient. A breathing mask fills his mouth and nose. But he landed in a desert… where does water come from?

Wait.

A mask.

Someone put him there.

Fear squeezes his heart.

He tries to stretch his arms forward, and his hands land on a cool barrier.

Panic is like a rising tide – almost chokes him. He pushes his hands desperately, and the barrier flies open. Loki sits abruptly, water splashes around him. He pulls the mask out of his mouth, and medical smell fills his nose, the same taste lingers on his tongue. Not water, then. Heartrate slows down, panic curling in his belly like a wild cat ready to jump.

He rubs his eyes and looks around.

A spacious room of stone. Sunlight – he didn’t know he would miss sunlight – falls through the window, and Loki notices two suns. He’s in some kind of a tank with medical equipment attached to it. He’s naked albeit a small towel around his hips. There’s a robot nearby, but it doesn’t move.

All memories of… yesterday?... fill Loki’s head.

The fight on the Bridge.

‘For you! For all of us!’

‘No, Loki’.

Thor’s shouts and an outstretched hand as if he’s trying to catch him.

Falling.

Shining rainbow becomes a dot.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Sand.

Scavengers.

And – here.

His head is surprisingly clear, as if after a long and nice sleep, considering all confusing events before. His body doesn’t hurt anymore. He reaches for his magic – still weak. He feels weak.

Loki guesses this is what the tank is for – healing.

But what for should he be healed? He doesn’t have any purpose. Doesn’t want to live. (Or does he? – memories of the marvelous feeling of sand on his skin, of hot air around him make him feel… feel what?)

Then he hears steps outside the heavy door. Confident. Closer and closer.

And all Loki has is weak magic (he’ll be barely able to move a fallen leaf), a tired body (still stronger than many species, though), and a sharp mind.

The door opens. A man walks in almost lazily, but Loki knows instantly – casualness is a facade. Burly, covered in green armour, with weapons like blasters and hidden knives attached. Darker skin, bald head and face covered with nasty-looking scars. A posture of a seasoned warrior. Air of not-quite-a-threat, but someone who definitely knows how to be in charge of a situation.

 – Awake already? Good, - the voice is gruff, but somehow not unkind. – Do you speak Basic?

 – I do, - words scratch the dry throat, Loki barely holds himself from coughing. It’s hard to project dignity when you’re wet and naked in unknown circumstances. – Where am I?

 – Mos Espa, Tatooine. And I’m the Daimyo here. Boba Fett, - the man raises an eyebrow, clearly prompting Loki to introduce himself.

Loki starts to assess the situation. In an unknown place – he’s never heard about Tatooine planet – in the dwelling of an obvious leader of this place. Not good. But this Fett allowed him to be healed – so he has something ready for Loki. Some kind of use. On the other hand, he obviously doesn’t recognize Loki as an Asgardian prince… former Asgardian prince… whatever. It’s not time to dwell upon it. The fact is, now Loki can hide what he’s capable of, assume another personality and get out of here.

 – Loki, - he hears his mouth saying as if from the outside of himself. – And I’m lost.

‘What in the Nine Worlds is wrong with you?’ – his mind screams immediately. Panic raises its head, ready to uncurl completely and cover him all. Did the Fall through the Void affect his brain-to-mouth connection? He won’t get anywhere spewing the truth right and left and wearing his heart on his sleeve!

 – Then the droid will help you get dressed and take you to the kitchens, - Fett nods to the robot, and the thing whirs in response. – We’ll figure something out, don’t worry. – He flashes a brief smile and leaves the room.

This reception is… baffling. Loki’s not a person to trust easily – his own trust turned out to be catastrophically misplaced – but this seems as a… good start. Maybe, he won’t have to fight his way out. Panic settles down.

Maybe, he’ll be able to use this situation to his own advantage. After all, he survived the Fall through open space. Maybe, he’ll find some other life out there.

If someone is interested in writing a whole story (by chance), please inform me.

peter: accents are just mouth fonts

tony: peter please just turn your brain off for one second

Tony:...Look, there's no way for me to tell you this. At least there's no new way for me to tell you this. I just don't things are gonna work out. Stephen: That's fine. Tony: [surprised] It is? Stephen: Mmm-hmm. Because I know that this isn't the end. Tony: Oh no, you see, actually it is. Stephen: No, it isn't, because you won't let that happen. Don't you know it yet? You love me, Tony Stark. Tony: Oh, no I don't. Stephen: Well then ask yourself this. Why do you think we keep ending up together? New Year's? Who invited who? Valentine's? Who asked who into whose bed? Tony: I did, but-- Stephen: You seek me out. Something deep in your soul calls out to me like a foghorn: "STEPHEN...STEPHEN...!" You want me. You need me. You can't live without me. And you know it. You just don't know you know it. See ya. [he kisses him passionately, then leaves] Tony: - CALL ME!

Story Time - AstraLowelle - Marvel Cinematic Universe [Archive of Our Own]

“I still think this is a really bad idea.”

“It was either this or picking up litter from the parks, and-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know, beneath your dignity. Would you come out of there already? We’re going to be late.”

“I was under the impression that you didn’t wish to go at all, Anthony. Besides, you’re the one who told me to take special care in the choosing of my attire today.”

“I told you not to wear your battle armor. We’re going to a library and you’re doing Story Time with a bunch of six-year-olds, you don’t need it. And if you traumatize them you’ll probably end up with even more community service. Okay, let’s see-”

“So, will this suffice?”

“No. There is no way you’re wearing that. How many knives do you have on you?”

“Two. And these are from the four which I wanted to bring with me-“

“You don’t need two knives, Lokes! We’re going to a public library! You’re sitting on the floor and reading to kids! You don’t even need one!”

“I have never left my place of residence without at least one blade on my person and I certainly do not intend to start now.”

“...fine. One knife. The smaller one.”

“Very well. I’m rather partial to it.”

“I know. I made it for you myself. Now c’mon, we’re going to be late.”

Accurate

Odin: You have a sister. Her name is Hela.

Thor & Loki: what

Odin:

Sambucky is on my mind again!

I can only imagine with the metal arm and being a super soldier that Bucky is a pretty heavy guy. And Sam needs to be able to catch his dumbass when he jumps from tall buildings without a plan, so he starts weight lifting to be able to carry Bucky. But that means that he needs to be able to confidently lift like 250 lbs, so he ends up getting pretty muscular from it. Cue Bucky drooling when he sees how jacked Sam is getting without realizing it's all for him.

It’s not that Bucky missed it happening; that’s just not possible with how often he’s watching Sam.

It’s just, well. It’s a gradual change, so slow it’s easy to not notice it happening.

And it’s all the same, because Bucky’s definitely noticing it now.

Sam’s just back from his morning run, sweat running down his face and stinging his eyes, so he lifts up the loose cotton t-shirt he has on and wipes at his face as he greets Bucky breathlessly.

Bucky’s brain kind of, well, short-circuits, blood rushing out and heading south. His mouth is suddenly dry, ears ringing, and he’s frozen against the kitchen counter, his eyes unconsciously following Sam as he heads toward the fridge and grabs the orange juice, drinking right from the box because otherwise he would be too perfect to be human.

Bucky takes a scalding sip from his coffee cup, burns his tongue and slams the cup down, eyes a little blurry, images of Sam’s extraordinary toned stomach and deliciously muscular arms tauntingly flashing in his mind.

He looks back at Sam, who’s staring at him with a raised eyebrow. At least the t-shirt is covering his stomach again, small mercies. Less of a mercy is the way his shorts are hugging his thighs and ass when he turns to put the juice back in the fridge.

God, Bucky is going to walk into a wall and knock himself out, what the fuck.

“Hey, Buck,” Sam says, and he getting closer, actually looking kind of worried now. “You okay?”

Bucky almost swallows his tongue when Sam’s close enough, because he can smell him now, on top of everything else, and it’s edging on a little too much, even for a super-soldier like himself.

He takes a deep breath (big mistake), tries to say, “yeah, I’m okay,” and ends up saying, “when did you get so muscular?”

Sam blinks, opens his mouth, closes it, then blinks again for good measure.

Bucky’s face burns; he wants to step away from the situation but there’s nowhere to go without pushing Sam out of the way, so he stays where he is, the counter’s edge digging into his back when he leans back into it.

Suddenly, Sam takes a step back and looks down, face twisting like he’s embarrassed about something.

“Remember Colorado?”

Bucky frowns, nods, then says, “yeah,” because Sam’s still not looking at him.

“You jumped out the window—“

“I was thrown out the window.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You weren’t supposed to be anywhere close to that window at all.”

“It wasn’t my fault that I was thrown out the damn window!”

Sam takes in a frustrated breath. “Anyway, I had to… catch you and I… I almost dropped you, Bucky.”

Bucky frowns again. He doesn’t remember Sam almost dropping him. All he remembers was how one second he was free-falling and the next he had Sam’s arms around him, breaking his fall and carrying him to safety. He remembers how he just knew that Sam would catch him, how he didn’t doubt it for a second.

“Sam?” he asks, because he’s not sure how this has anything to do with Sam’s incredibly fantastic muscles.

Sam sighs. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re kinda heavy, especially when I’m trying to catch you midair. So, I, uh. I started working out more, lifting more.”

“Oh,” Bucky says. His knees are a little weak, but that’s no one’s business.

Sam’s working out and lifting more so he could carry/catch Bucky. Bucky’s brain is about to melt right out his ears.

“That’s, hm,” he tries to say anything, because Sam is getting more embarrassed, starting to fidget.

“Look, I know—”

“Really hot.”

“Oh.”

Bucky sighs, pushes aways from the counter and wraps his arms around Sam’s waist, pulls him close.

Sam’s breath hitches. “Oh,” he repeats, and he blinks slowly up at Bucky, his eyes getting steadily darker.

“You,” Bucky says, even as his heart races, because god, Sam’s into this, too, “are going to be the death of me.”

Sam opens his mouth to say something about that, but Bucky just leans in and swallows the words right off his tongue.

They can talk later.

Now, though, Bucky is going to kiss every single one of Sam’s muscles.

read on ao3

Why I think Loki was willing to sleep in front of Mobius's in the TVA but will never do this on Asgard because

1. Trust: Loki has developed a level of trust with Mobius that he may not have with others, including those on Asgard. This trust allows him to feel more comfortable and secure in vulnerable situations like sleeping.

2. Safety:The TVA, despite its complexities and dangers, offers a sense of safety and stability to Loki compared to Asgard, where Loki constantly faces threats and hostility from his peers (warriors 3 and sif who physically abuses him)

3. Acceptance: Loki feels more accepted and valued in the TVA, where his skills and abilities are recognized and utilized, whereas on Asgard, he often feels like an outcast or second-class citizen.

4. Emotional Connection:Loki have developed an emotional connection with Mobius that he hasn't experienced with others on Asgard. This emotional bond can contribute to feelings of comfort and security, making it easier for Loki to relax and sleep.

5. Absence of hostility and mockery : In the TVA, Loki doesn't face the same level of hostility and mockery that he encounters on Asgard (even servants that serve wine mock Loki). This absence of constant mockery and hostility may allow him to let his guard down and rest more easily.

Overall, Loki's willingness to sleep in front of Mobius in the TVA reflects the trust, safety, acceptance, emotional connection, and absence of hostility that he feels in the tva compared to Asgard.

Peter: why didn’t you call me?

Tony: I wasn’t..ready.

Peter: ready? for what?

Tony: I wanted to be better when you saw me again. and I thought I could be, somehow. but I’m not. and even if I did get better, the best I could ever be is still some other version of me.

Peter: Mr.Stark, I can’t wait to you to be better. I need you in my life.

New headcanon of the day:

Goody two shoes Peter parker got suspended only once in his life

Tony had to pick Peter up

When he asked the admin assistant what happened she brings out the incident report

Tony:...Peter got suspended..

The assistant: Mhm.

Tony: because he yelled at his science teacher for calling me 'not a real scientist '