friendlyneighborhoodspidernerd:

It was Peter’s turn to blink right back (like a mirror image of Mr. Stark, really – how much time was he spending in this lab anyway?). It somehow always surprised him how far Mr. Stark was willing to go for him, the lengths he’d go to make sure Peter was happy. Not just safe, not just ‘not-screwing-the-pooch,’ but happy. “That’s okay,” he said quietly, a small smile on his face. “It’s kinda nice, ya know? To have something normal. Well, as normal as anything ever gets around here.” Which… wasn’t saying much, especially when it came to Peter. (How many kids got superpowers from their school field trip?)

“What were you thinking about?” Peter asked instantly, because his curiosity about Mr. Stark’s thought process and the arc reactor in particular never waned. The reactor was, in his opinion, the single biggest breakthrough in modern technology, it would revolutionize the world – already had. And if Mr. Stark had come up with that idea because of a random tangent… Well, who could blame him for wanting to know what it was?

Peter whistled lowly. “Okay, so this is definitely an issue. Raise the terror alert to Carrie Underwood levels, plus two, gotcha,” he said, biting his lip. He raised a brow at that, but then Mr. Stark clarified and Peter felt himself flushing all over again. “I – uh, wouldn’t really know about that, Mr. Stark,” he said quietly. The thing that had been in the back of his mind for so long now, that little niggling thought, it was getting closer. Peter tried to answer, but he wasn’t sure. “Both?” he suggested softly. His mind was racing in a million directions right now, reeling from Mr. Stark’s confession, trying to find the words for his own – and wondering why it felt like it had to be a confession in the first place. “I mean – it’s about people, I guess. But not emotions, emotions I get, I feel those, but –” He bit his lip again, harder. This was the point of no return, and once he crossed this line, everything could change. “It’s about the world, too,” he blurted out. “Like, every magazine ad. And in movies and TV and books – it’s like, everyone’s obsessed with this – this thing that I just…” He stopped, inhaling deeply and holding the breath for a long moment. “Sex,” he said finally, wanting to melt a little on the spot. But now that he started, the dam was broken. The words came rushing out in a torrent. “I don’t get it. Like, Johnny always seems like he’s gonna die if he can’t – ya know. But I never – I mean, I haven’t, and I don’t even really want to, and that feels weird. Like I’m just missing this whole part of the world and people, and if everyone is telling you that you should feel a certain way and you don’t, aren’t you kind of – I don’t know, messed up?”

No one was near S.I. level, because no one was near Mr. Stark’s level. (Of course, Miss Potts had a lot to do with it, too.) But there was a reason Peter was saying this to Mr. Stark before he said it to anyone else, even Aunt May or MJ or Johnny. There was a reason he was adamant about stopping this crazy ex-boyfriend before he did any serious damage to his mentor. Because Mr. Stark had completely changed his life, trusted him when no one else did, and kept supporting him through every mistake, every mess up, every collapsed building and cruise ship. Peter knew he would always be able to rely on Mr. Stark. It was time to return the favor. “I’m okay with sounding like a bonafide genius,” he said, smiling softly. “You’ve got a lot of people in your corner, you know? We’re in this together, as a team.” 

Sometimes Tony looked at Peter and wondered whether he better kick the kid out of the car before he influenced him anymore. Then he realised, either because someone else said it or that little part of his brain that wasn’t always on the edge of a mental breakdown pointed it out, that the point to do that had long since passed. Any damage that he was going to do to Peter had been done already. Any good that he could do - well, maybe he could still do some more good, could still teach him, guide him, support him in any way that he could. If that involved threatening professors and getting his homework cut way down, then he would do that, and he would do it without hesitation.

“Going to school is pretty normal, all things considered.” Most kids weren’t child geniuses like Peter, but Tony wasn’t particularly good at knowing what was the average anyway. “Pepper,” he admitted, “and staying alive. First time I tried miniaturising the arc reactor was when I was piss drunk, and I blew up the entirety of my workshop for the first time. Dum-E was covered in dust for weeks. Second time, I was in Afghanistan. Ideas come to you when you least expect them, or when you’re trying not to die. I would recommend going for something a lot simpler than terrorist abduction, though.”

Tony blinked a few times, and then grinned despite himself. He wasn’t entirely sure whether this was a meme or just a country music reference - he made a point to avoid both as much as humanly possible - but either way, Peter needed the reassurance. He had to boost the kid’s confidence somehow! “Right. Right, yeah, of course.” Tony was definitely not helping in this situation. Truthfully, he had never been very good at talking about anything even roughly in this area. The reason that he slept with anything that moved had been a relatively simple one - it got him out of his head, it let him pretend for a second that there was someone that could get as close to his heart as they were to his body, and because it felt really good. “We can work with both,” Tony said with a hum, nodding as if he had just decided to slot the answer into place. When the word finally came out, Tony looked at Peter for a moment. “Sex,” he repeated.

“Hey,” Tony said, watching as Peter continued to talk himself into a spiral. He set the robot down on the workbench and went towards Peter, putting a hand on his shoulder, looking at him as he did so. “I get it, kid. You look around at the world and there’s a part of it that you can’t understand. If everyone else wasn’t banging on about it so much - that wasn’t an intentional pun, swear - then you wouldn’t even want to understand it, yeah? That doesn’t make you messed up. That makes you unique, and unique is what saves the world. You know what is messed up? Fucking a super villain. That’s messed up. What you’re telling me - that’s normal, or at least, it’s your normal.”

Tony didn’t have much of a measure for what constituted a good talk, but he knew that every single thing that he had said was pretty much the exact opposite of what Howard would have said - what Howard did say when Tony brought Tiberius around and it was evident that there was something else to it. That seemed to be pretty close to success, or at least far from failure. “Teamwork makes the dream work, and all that tooth-rotting sweetness,” Tony said with a smile. “All I want to do is get in one solid punch on that guy, and we can throw him in jail for the rest of his life.” He paused for only a moment. “I appreciate you, you know that? Coming to me. Talking. Being with me. It means a lot, and my dad never really said that to me, and it sucked, so I just. Wanted to say it to you.”

adarkknightrises:

The difficulty of having childhood friends was that they often knew you a bit too well for Bruce’s liking. The fact that Tony had managed to cut him off in such a packed crowd, somehow knowing what he was doing, was proof of that. For the sake of their friendship, Bruce had always tried to keep his life in the cowl separate from Tony, even when his friend donned a suit himself and set off on a more public crusade. The initial reason had been to protect him, but eventually he had to admit it had become a matter of holding on to some measure of his life before Batman.

Which, typically of his life, had forced him into the difficult situation of facing Tony when the latter didn’t know his intention. Bruce wasn’t sure whether he was stopping him out of concern for what Doom would do to him, what he would do to Doom, or both. Maybe he saw himself as keeping Bruce from the life of violence that, unbeknownst to Tony, he had already succumbed to.

“You’ve done things that you knew were a bad idea at the time. Sometimes it’s even worked out well for you. On such important occasions like this, I’m willing to try my luck.” He yanked his arm out of Tony’s grasp, fighting the aggressive instincts the physicality of the act stirred in him. Of all the the people he’d squared up to in his life, he never actually pictured Tony being amongst them. The fact that they both drove people away from themselves on a regular basis seemed to give them some sort of bond and mutual tolerance. “Now is not the time for explanation, it’s time that someone did something. That..” He pointed to the screen that had previously shown the names of the registered heroes. “Happened because people are too busy talking and not acting.” He glanced over his shoulder, making sure they weren’t being overheard. “Tony, go home. You don’t need this kind of attention. But I sat in Gotham for too long while this city went to hell while I could have been doing something. I can’t stand by again.” He averted his gaze for a moment, before setting his jaw and looking Stark in the eyes. “Not even for you.”

In the beginning, Tony and Bruce had been friends for the same reason that the grand majority of high society were friends - because it was better than being each other's enemies, which ultimately meant one day, they would stand in the way of some prospect they were trying to get made into reality. It had taken years for them to get to the point where they allowed each other past the small talk over canapés and caviar, and realised that under the shining platinum veneer, they had more in common than they did on the surface. Bruce, though, had always been more idealistic, had walked with an integrity that Tony had tried, and failed, to emulate. Perhaps now he was somewhere in his friend’s league after a decade or more of being Iron Man, of making so many mistakes that he continually learned from, but he still looked up to Bruce in a way that he doubted he would ever be able to put into words, doubted that the other man would ever truly accept.

That was why there had always been a suspicion. There was integrity, there was a passion for justice, and then there was a man who spent his life fighting for both inside a boardroom and out. Tony had never questioned him, had assumed that if his friend was getting out of his depth with anything he would come to him, but tonight he had to intervene. “Sometimes it’s only made the situation worse, and got the people that I cared about killed,” Tony said. He didn’t make a habit of stepping down, even when the going was good, and he wasn’t going to now. “Sometimes we need to talk before we act. We need to consider the consequences of what we do. Are you going to fight the president, Bruce? You’re a Wayne. That carries a weight now as it always has.” Tony knew what it was like to see a situation go to hell, to know that it was a dangerous, reckless move to get involved, and to do it anyway. Bruce was right, it had worked for him before, but not every time. And this time, they didn’t have the wiggle room to take that risk. “I’m not asking you to stand by, Bruce. I’m asking you to stand down. You’re not going to accomplish anything tonight. None of us are.” Doom had taken that power from them, as much as Tony hated to admit it.

adarkknightrises:

“See, the thing is, they can’t be fighting words. Because you’re not wearing your fancy suit that you keep all your courage in, so you wouldn’t dare step to a badass like me, right?” Technically speaking, the pampered play boy Bruce Wayne had never been in a fight in his entire life. He was the kind of person that funded people who did the fighting while he sat safely behind a desk. “I will admit, the Apple comparison is pretty apt. Flimsy, overpriced and built so that they’re only good for a year and you have to keep upgrading them.” His voice took on a serious tone, and his eyes became haunted. “You joke, but ankle sprains are an epidemic amongst the tennis community and I can overstate the importance of raising awareness.” He smiled, genuinely this time, and squeezed Tony’s shoulder affectionately. “It’s a good look for you. And it certainly looks more majestic when you’re flying in a straight line.”

He rolled his eyes. “Accountants? It’s kind of comforting that there’s always a consistent evil in this world.” That being said, it seemed so long ago that something as simple as a board meeting to discuss financial windfall was the toughest challenge of the day. Bruce glanced pointedly out the window, where the silhouette of demons could be seen on the horizon. “New York’s not in the best shape of its life right now as is, how much damage could one more enormous green being do?” He blinked in surprise, not expecting Tony to have set a plan in motion already. “That was one hell of a sentence there Stark. Is this a science portal or a magic portal? Honestly both of them are well outside of my expertise, but at least science would be something I can relate to. Don’t you have that wizard friend? Cos if it’s a magic portal, that seems like it would be his thing.” Bruce rubbed his jaw, realising that vocalising the problem had made clear the magnitude of their task. “Do you ever wish that every problem was something you could just rocket-punch with your fancy suit? That kind of thing has to be more straightforward than this.”

“That’s what I want you to think,” Tony said, the playful insult rolling off him like water on a duck’s back. Pepper had told him once that he was almost impossible to offend, and that much proved to be true over and over again. Tony held up his arm, tapping against it, and when he did so the suit formed over his skin, drawing upwards from his watch. “I have the suit on me at all times now. I call it the Bleeding Edge. If you want to piss your pants right now, I won’t tell anyone. I might record it and put it on YouTube, but I won’t tell anyone.” Tony’s paranoia and anxiety was most of the reason for his constant updates of the suit, even though he knew that he was more than capable of handling threats with nothing more than his intelligence and wit, considering how he had faced the Mandarin. “Do you want me to get you an ankle brace? I’ve been working on prosthetic tech, I could get you a really fancy one. One might even say majestic,” Tony said with a teasing smirk, though it did mean a lot to have people be proud of him now for things that he was also proud of himself.

Tony nodded, trying for a deadpan expression but missing it by something of a wide margin. “Accountants,” he repeated. “My last lawyer was a sketchy guy as well. Only went by the name Legal, and did everything opposite to that. The accountants are being handled by my wonderful CEO, and I’m sure the PR staff will be next on the hitlist.” Tony laughed, even though the situation in New York was far from a laughing matter. He had always found something of a comfort in humour, had learned a long time to rely on charm and charisma more than showing the parts of himself that weren’t quite as polished. It wasn’t necessary with an old friend, but was a knee jerk response regardless. “It isn’t in the worst state it’s ever been either. At least there aren’t aliens pouring down from a hole in the sky. Yet.” Tony made a point to shudder at the word ‘magic.’ “Scientific, of course. I leave the magic to Dr. Weird. A temporal displacement device might be enough to get us through the dimensional barrier, but then again -- it might not.” Punching villains in the face was absolutely an easier option. Tony sighed, reaching out to pat his hand against Bruce’s shoulder. “You speak my mind out loud, buddy,” he said. “Luckily, there are a few things I can still punch out there. Those ugly mugs are first on my shitlist.” He pointed outside to where a few demons were snarling at him before flying away. “Those things really give me the heebie jeebies.”

master-of-mystic-arts:

Stephen met Tony’s ridiculous notions with as incredulously sarcastic a look as he could muster. And he could muster some pretty sarcastic looks. “Hmm, poor Pepper. To think that she will have to spend the rest of her life with you. She’s much too nice to be saddled with that awful fate.” He was clearly smirking as he said that, in actuality very happy to know that Tony wanted to propose to her. Stephen was, however, very inclined to believe that Tony was incapable of taking offense. In the time they had known each other, he had said quite a few things which would have pissed a normal person off. Tony really did seem to rarely take offense to his jabs. Probably because he was so good at dishing it out himself. “Everything bounces off of you?” Stephen smirked again. “So if I were to throw a rock at you, let’s say…?”

Having half-expected Tony to ask for the elephant, Stephen breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he did not. He had not actually tried to conjure an elephant before, so he was not even sure that he could. Something that large would take a lot of power, and even though Stephen had yet to encounter a spell too large, he did not really want to push it. A hamster would be much more sensible. “I could do that. I heard that some other magician conjured a guinea pig for Wanda. Maybe the hamster and the guinea pig could meet and compare notes?”

When Tony moved to lean against the desk, Stephen was going to warn him about the book, but it was too late. He tried not to chuckle, but the look on Tony’s face made that very difficult. “I don’t think they do magical books,” Stephen commented, raising an eyebrow, “Besides, if you actually pay attention to where you try to park yourself, you’ll probably escaped unscathed. Probably.” From what Stephen had experienced of dimensional travel, time could either pass differently in another dimension, or not pass at all. The only reason he had been able to defeat Dormammu was by introducing the concept of time to a dimension which had none. But Stephen was fairly certain that time on Earth would pass normally, no matter how fast or slow it was passing for them here in the city. “I would have to know how time passes in this dimension to answer that question. Just seeing the wasteland gave me little information as to how time could be measured here. Earth, however, should be passing time as it always would. But I can’t even swear to that.” He hoped time had not been altered on Earth as well. That would make things even worse.

Tony made a point when he met a new hero, or someone in that particular range at the very least, to look up at least a little bit of their background. He rarely judged them based on past mistakes, after all he had made more than enough of his own and even continued to do so, but the paranoia that gripped him on a regular basis needed to be soothed one way or another. Besides, it gave him some kind of insight into what he was walking into. When he read up about Stephen Strange, all that he could come up with was relief for the fact that they had never met before they took on their respective roles as superheroes. They would’ve wiped out the entire Sunshine Coast with their egos, more than likely. “She is not only nice, she is terrifying, and eager to get a sickeningly expensive ring on her finger, so there,” Tony said, petulantly but with no heat to it. “It would bounce,” Tony replied, holding up his arm to demonstrate. He hit his forearm, and when he did, a part of his suit formed immediately over his skin. “I call it Bleeding Edge,” he said. “You can call it badass, Strange, I won’t tell anyone.”

Moving with the punches was something that was necessary in their line of work, and Tony was continually upgrading the suit, ensuring that it was prepared for as many potential situations as he could think of, and the list was quite extensive. “Do you think they speak the same language?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, they’re both rodents, and um. Of magical origin.” The rules of these things made no sense. God, Tony would hate to live in Strange’s world. It seemed complicated!

“You’re going to laugh,” Tony said accusingly, pointing at Strange as he did so, though there was something of a smirk appearing on is own face as well. “There has to be some kind of guy you could call. You can’t be the only weird witch doctor guy this side of the Hudson, right? There are specialists.” Tony was about to open his mouth and argue against that point - the book had looked completely normal and non threatening before it attempted to take a bite out of Tony’s ass - but they had already moved onto the true motive of this meeting, and it wasn’t to partake in a sarcasm contest. “Well, let’s just mosey on out to the wasteland again and set our watches to a time. Would that work?” Tony paused, thinking over it. “Okay, that wouldn’t work. The sun doesn’t even seem to go down in that place.” He needed to remember to breathe, and so he did. “Okay. But I stand by my previous statement. Me and Oprah go way back. I need to be there for her hundredth birthday, Strange. It’s in our friendship contract.”

abornentertainer:

So far, this was going surprisingly well. Dick had been a little worried, when he’d agreed to meet with Tony, that something about this was going to go horribly wrong somehow. That he was going to let something slip, or someone else in the family had let something slip, and that somehow, Tony knew more than he ought to. But he hadn’t seen any sign of that being the case, and he could relax, as much as he ever did when he was being Oblivious And Charming Richard Grayson.

“I mean, not for me,” he explained, chuckling. “Unless you think we get to pick who our parents are, I guess. I grew up in the life. But I met a few people that picked it on purpose.” Honestly, he couldn’t picture Tony Stark being one of those people. What would he even do in the circus? Build high-tech, mechanical elephants? He could see him making a decent barker, but somehow, that didn’t seem like it would be enough for a genius. It certainly wouldn’t have been enough for him, and he wasn’t anywhere near on Stark’s level. “Are you kidding? That would be incredible. Bruce could never blame you for that,” he asserted with the absolute confidence of someone who was full of shit and knew it. “He’d probably straight-up give you the cabin as a gift for being so incredible.”

Tony had to admit that on the list of his favourite pastimes, proving that he wasn’t as bad as the tabloids and rumours made him out to be definitely came close to the top of the list, along with eating disgustingly greasy donuts and making artificial intelligence that wasn’t keen to blow the world up in its pursuit of peace. When people had met his father, they had practically the opposite revelation, realising he was worse than he had been portrayed, and was protected solely by his wealth and intelligence. Tony liked to believe he had a bit more substance, and luckily, Dick seemed to be relaxing into his company, which suggested the guy didn’t think he was a complete dick, at the very least.

“Oh no, that’s just pure blind luck, right? Or fate, if you subscribe to all that, which I don’t.” There was a part of Tony that imagined he would arrive in the same place as he was right now no matter what happened, but he knew the truth was he had gotten lucky that day in Afghanistan, even if it didn’t feel like it at the time. “Okay, okay, I can appreciate a good bullshitter any day of the week as much as the next guy, but putting my ski retreat in jeopardy is something I can’t stand for,” Tony said with a grin. “I’m intrigued now, though. What other activities do you guys get up to when the big guy is out on business? Tell me you’ve thrown mattresses out the window onto the pristine lawn at some stage, or something.”

twelvepercentpepperpotts:

Pepper gave him a long look over the rim of her mug, eyebrow arched and everything. “I’m going to give you a smack if you keep talking like that,” she said. “You’re not actually fourteen, you know.” But she laughed almost immediately. It should’ve been impossible to laugh. Demons on their doorstep, the city literally plunged into hell, psychotic exes planning their next attack – but he made it happen. Of course, Tony had always been able to take the impossible and turn it into possible. It was one of the things she loved most about him. 

There was a reason she had spent so much time by his side. Why she kept her phone on call even when she was home, why she ‘forgot’ it was her day off and just decided to work anyway. Part of her always wanted to be around in case he made a breakthrough in some project – and part of her was terrified what would happen if she stayed away too long. She had found him covered in motor oil and grease, eyes shining as he calculated numbers in his head, and she had found him with women hanging off his arms, half-naked in his bed. She had found him slumped over the toilet, sweaty and pale and stomach empty – those were the worst days. 

But that was the past. They were burying the past from this moment forward, she had already decided it the moment she woke up this morning. Tony could handle what they’d seen in DreamVision however he needed, but Pepper’s plan was to move forward, focus on the future. The future was more important than any dream. What they had been to each other, that had once just been a dream, but now it was real, now it had a future and potential – and she wasn’t going to let the past drag them backwards.

She shook her head. “I’m scared to ask exactly what that means,” she teased, smirking wryly at him. “The foyer?” she repeated, furrowing her brow. She knew exactly what that particular design meant to him, how significant it was. “I thought you were… attached to that pattern,” she said, lowering her mug and turning to face him more. 

Believing in the future took a lot of faith. It could be so frustrating sometimes, when the present day seemed so far behind. Tony felt that, too, and hadn’t always handled it well. But the future was all that mattered, their future, together. And he was so different now, now that future finally seemed to be within their grasp. Because he had changed, because he hadn’t let history define him, personal or familial. He wasn’t his father. He wasn’t Obidiah’s prodigal son. He was Tony Stark, and all that entailed. “It wasn’t just that,” she said, shaking her head. But a smile crept onto her face. It was nice to know that she mattered just as much to him, even then. He wasn’t shy about it now, but before – they’d both been pulling back so much. “Waffles are my specialty. Speaking of which, we should have something solid to eat,” she said, but she didn’t get up just yet. She wanted to enjoy this moment, because it wasn’t like those ‘other mornings.’ It wasn’t painful, it didn’t make her heart race out of panic – though her heart had definitely kicked up a beat with the kiss.

He knew her so well he could answer her thoughts. Pepper laughed lightly, breathlessly, leaned into his touch and let herself enjoy the sensation. This was so much better than any dream she’d ever had. “They do not,” she insisted, one hand slapping his chest lightly. Her fingers found the arc reactor by accident, but she didn’t pull away from the cool metal. It was just another part of him. “They never leave because we pay them so well,” she said, smiling into his kiss. “I think I’ll leave the Avengers to you. You know what you’re doing there,” she said, eyes flicking up to meet his. She was the one who wanted him to retire, who wanted him to walk away from that life. He was the one who stayed, stubborn or self-destructive – or maybe he just saw this future and knew she would realize how important heroes were. 

But he was so much more than Iron Man now. He was so much more than just Tony Stark. He was a hero in a thousand different ways, ways she would never be able to fully articulate. Most importantly, he was her hero. Always had been. “Doesn’t stop you though,” she said, shaking her head slowly. Few things in this world could stop him, and even when the worry was deep-seated in the pit of her stomach, she remembered that. His hand on her hip felt like an anchor, a comfortable weight and warmth. She had lived without it for so long, could do it again, but she never wanted to. She never wanted to miss the feeling of his hands against her skin. “Let’s not get too crazy,” she said, her hand still on his chest. “You don’t need to do all that, you know,” she said softly, eyes meeting his. “You’re already everything I ever hoped you would be.” She said the words firmly, even as a whisper. The reality of it hit her, and she blinked, then broke into a smile. Husband. One day he would be her husband. One day he could be the father of her children. The future, even for futurists, was vast and variable. Anything could happen. “You remember mine, and I’ll remember everyone else’s,” she agreed. “We’ll be a perfect team.” 

“Not actually fourteen? You’re right, I’m stuck in a perpetual state of being twenty-one, instead. These wrinkles? They’re just illusions. Makeup artist trickery designed to disguise the fact that I’m secretly an immortal.” Although Tony was joking, it belied a more significant truth. The rest of the team weren’t all demigods, super-soldiers or giant green rage monsters. Some of them were humans, but even at that, they were born for this world. They had spent years with danger around the corner, waiting to grab them by the throat, and more than that, they were far less riddled with aches and pains than Tony was. He had assumed for a long time that was because of his heart - which a grand majority of it was - but then his doctor told him in the most subtle of ways that it might just be age. He wasn’t the same man that he was when he went into the cave. It had been ten years since that. A decade of mistakes and good decisions alike, a decade spent with Pepper at his side, more than she ever had been before that.

It had been hard to imagine when he kissed her for the first time up on that rooftop that there was any part of Pepper Potts he didn’t already know. They had worked beside each other every single day for twenty years, give or take. He knew her favourite food, knew how she looked in the morning, knew the process she took to put on her makeup, the kind of shoes she liked to wear, how she gave her Louboutins to him to break in with a hammer (it had made her wince at the beginning, but she adjusted to wealth well, as she had with everything else). Yet, he found himself constantly surprised by just how much he didn’t know, how much he still didn’t know. He could recite off all of her favourite things, but he still didn’t know who she hated in high school. He didn’t know whether she even wanted a relationship with her family again, if she thought that was possible. He didn’t know why some part of her understood his various addictions, his constant strive for success, for perfection.

Pepper was an equation that he couldn’t quite equalise, one that he couldn’t figure out, and rather than frustrate him, it invigorated him. The same way as the Iron Man suit and its various challenges had pushed him forward, had encouraged him to be something more, being with her made him the kind of person who could lead the Avengers by example, the kind of man who walked into a board meeting with clear eyes and a sober mind. She had given them both space, something that Tony resented at the time, but it had been what he needed in order to show him what really mattered, and it was the one thing that his father had always failed at - family.

“You’re brilliant. Hot as all hell, and terrifying. My type.” Tony punctuated that with a quick wave of his hand, as if that much should have been self explanatory. He had always been drawn to people who were the best they were at what they did, and who had an edge to them that perhaps their appearance didn’t make clear at the beginning. Layers. He was attracted to human onions. That would come out far less complimentary, though, so he kept it to himself. “I am,” he said, “which is exactly the problem. Having my … heart laid out there is like a walking advertisement for the next villain to come fuck shit up. No thanks, honey, I’m out!”

The fact that their lives had to involve conversations about supervillains over morning coffee wasn’t something that Tony had envisioned. On the rare occasions - usually drunken occasions, when Pepper was the only one who gave enough of a shit to follow him from the party - that Tony had actually allowed himself to consider a future where she was more than his assistant and then his boss, he had pictured the same thing as he had back in MIT. He had pictured a beach house, dogs, a kid, commuting to the city during the day, laughing with his friends who called him a workaholic, knowing he would give up everything in a moment for his family. Some days, he still couldn’t quite get past the fact that Pepper hadn’t asked for any of this, didn’t deserve it, and would probably be better off if she was out of his life. Other days, he recognised she had made her decision, and was grateful as all hell it involved him.

“Okay, so it wasn’t just that,” Tony admitted. Honesty was the best policy, in all regards! “Agreed. That almost sounded like you’re cooking, too, so I could getting out of bed this morning when I did as a win.” Sleep came on nights that were few and far between, but at least when it did arrive, it left him conked out for a good twelve hours or more. It was pretty much the only way that he could continue to function. “Money doesn’t buy loyalty, babe. It definitely helps, though,” he said with a smirk. His riches had never solved all of his problems, after all, but it made a lot of them a hell of a lot easier. “Yeah, I actually do, don’t I? Honestly, that’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever said. I know what I’m doing!”

Tony smiled, taking in the light freckles that were visible on the curve of her cheekbone, how her hair fell out over her forehead. “I want to do all that,” Tony said, voice lower, matching the pitch of Pepper’s. Sometimes, it felt as if they should do everything at the same time, that no matter how far back they pulled they would always snap back together. One of the few things that Tony was glad he got from his father was his incapacity to let things go, and it worked well for him when it came to this relationship in particular. Others had hurt him, had broken him in half, but Pepper had always been there, even when she was the one doing it, to patch him back together. “That sounds like what we’ve been doing for the past twenty years anyway, so I can definitely get on board with that,” Tony said with a grin. “Now, you mentioned something about waffles …”

supersoldierwithashield:

Things were much steadier now among the Avengers. They were working as a team again, some of them registered, some of them not, all of them respecting the other’s choice. The thing was, Steve understood why accountability mattered to Tony. Tony had grown up with privilege beyond measure, accountable to no one (except maybe Pepper), and it hadn’t always worked out for him. Steve had followed orders over and over, until he realized those orders weren’t always given in the best of faith. He had learned to trust his own gut – Tony had learned to trust the instincts of the people around him. Steve never managed to tell him that though, even when it was just the two of them, standing in the Tower, looking out over the city they both loved in vastly different ways. 

“More like, too awkward to go to the parties everyone else was going to,” he said, chuckling lightly. “Bucky was always taking girls to the dance hall. He tried getting me to go along, but I wound up like this, mostly,” he said, meaning standing on the outside of the group looking in. Tony was the opposite. He was always in the middle of things. “You didn’t enjoy it?” he asked, shoving his now empty hands into his pockets. He shook his head, waved a hand in the air. “We don’t have to talk about it,” he said gently. He’d watched plenty of men disappear into a bottle, Tony included. He should probably mention that he was proud of the change, but it was another thing he couldn’t quite find the words for. “Oh, right. Mystery and grand entrances at the last minute, how could I forget?” he said, shaking his head slowly. “She does seem to like it when you’re dressed up nice. Guess that hasn’t changed,” he said, smirking lightly. “I haven’t, actually. Thought maybe he would be… less thrilled to see me, given everything,” he said quietly. The lights on the stage changed, and the music came to an end. “Look, you’ve been spared for a moment,” he said, nodding towards the stage. Doom strolled up to the center. “Guess it’s time for the grand entrance,” he murmured, eyes narrowing for a moment. 

With each passing day, Tony was finding that things were becoming easier and easier to manage. The world was falling apart, New York was in another dimension, but he was talking about his personal life. His relationships with his teammates had never been better, he and Pepper were going strong, and he had so many kids looking up to him, trusting him with their training, that he almost had to pinch himself sometimes to believe that it was real. Sure, everything could be seen as bleak, but Tony knew that together, they could face anything. Being divided was an issue that he hadn’t foreseen, even with all of his futurism allowing him to see some of what was coming, but now that was resolved - at least as much as it was ever going to be resolved - the Avengers had to be stronger than ever. Strength in numbers, and in loyalty.

“You? Awkward? Never would have pegged you for that descriptor, Winghead. Are you sure you aren’t confusing yourself with Banner?” Tony had made a point to drag Bruce to the party despite arguments, and although he liked to tell himself that was because he knew the other man would have a good time, he knew that was about as likely as New York just falling back into place on earth. “Oh, I enjoyed it for the first four hours. Then it got to the encores. People just kept asking for more. I’m pretty sure even the musicians didn’t enjoy it by the end.” His mom, though, had been at the edge of her seat the entire time. It had given her a sore back to sit like that, but she hadn’t cared. Music had been for her what a good engine humming was for Tony - as close to heaven as either of them were likely to get. “Agreed,” Tony said. “Not talking about things is my go to. Or used to be.” He didn’t pay that expensive shrink for nothing! “He looks constipated,” Tony surmised, raising an eyebrow in Doom’s direction. “I know that look.” He’d seen it on too many people to count in his lifetime. “He’s gonna blow this whole party to shit in T-minus five minutes, and I just got a new lemonade.” The list flashed on the screen, and Tony’s prediction came true - three minutes early, as well.

staturestinger:

There was no one in the world who could ever replace Scott in Cassie’s mind, and luckily, she was too old for anyone to try. Her father had been the person that she loved most in the world, and clearly, Scott had felt the same way. He had gone to extreme lengths in order to return Cassie from her ‘vacation,’ and before they could be reunited, he had died. It still wasn’t something that she had processed entirely; every morning, she woke up expecting to find a longwinded voicemail from Scott, and every night, she expected him to pop buy with ice cream, suggesting movies when they weren’t on the clock. Obviously none of it had happened, and with time, maybe Cassie would realize that it was never going to. For now, she was merely trying to do her best, and her best was as Stinger. She wanted to make Scott proud and if she’d had a blip in the road getting there, allying herself with the Power Broker, she imagined that Scott would forgive her. He understood how desperate Cassie was to protect the world.

With all that in mind, if there was anyone like family to Cassie, it was Tony Stark. He was way more of a father figure to her than her step dad had ever been, having watched her grow up and having supported her the whole way through. It was only natural that Tony was concerned about Cassie’s wellbeing, and they met frequently because of it (and because they had an awesome time). That being said, Tony rarely worded things so seriously and it was completely understandable that she was concerned about what he wanted. Tony was a genius! If anyone could figure out that she was struggling in just about every single aspect, it was Tony. “I bet you’re gonna nail it,” she said without a shadow of a doubt. “Can I test them out when they’re done?” Cassie asked, forcing a smile so she seemed less stressed. “Okay,” she said slowly, reminded of her mother’s after school chats. (As a Young Avenger, Cassie had missed a lot of school.) “Um, I stung a demon really badly yesterday? And once Tommy made me shrink one so he could keep it as a pet,” Cassie said, sounding confused. “Is there something you know that I don’t?” Oh man, she was totally busted! Scott had always taught her to go out swinging… or lying in this instance.

Tony, despite being an active proponent of registration, accountability and transparency, all those fun buzzwords, did understand from personal experience the benefits that could come with breaking the rules from time to time. In the past, he had done so purely because he enjoyed pushing boundaries as far as he possibly could before the people enforcing them seemed fit to break, but now, he did it because he knew that in the life they were a part of, sometimes rules and regulations held them back from what truly needed to be done. That was why when it was revealed that Cassie had stolen the Pym Particles out from under his nose, Tony had been inclined to let her leave the Tower without receiving the standard ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’ talk. Cassie was determined, she knew what she needed to do, and Tony could respect that, could see her father in her in more ways than even she knew.

This, though, was something else entirely. This was playing with fire and hoping to God that she wasn’t going to get burnt. Tony wasn’t related to her, but he had loved her since the day and hour she was born. He couldn’t stand back and watch someone he loved go down a path that he knew was a bad idea all around (and when Tony Stark said it was a bad idea, it had to be a really fucking bad idea). “Of course you can. I need to see if they’ll perform with someone who didn’t create them. Did you know my accounting A.I has been locking the employees out of the system because they’re not, and I quote, ‘super geniuses like Father’? Talk about foreshadowing a robot takeover.” This was absolutely not what he had called her to talk about. Tony cleared his throat, pushed down the endearment that came with Cassie’s excuses, and tried to appear serious. “Does the name Power Broker ring any bells for you?” Tony asked. At this stage, he brought up grainy surveillance footage from one of his drones. “It really should, because although I can’t see your face on that, I’m pretty sure FRIDAY will be able to blow it up.” Her poker face was staggeringly good. Tony was not going to be proud of that right now -- damnit, he was!

thcjackpot:

“I will go have words with an old lady,” MJ said seriously. If the old woman had genuinely offended Tony in any way, especially wth needless cruelty, there wasn’t a question about whether MJ would have ‘words’ with her or not. She loved Tony and because of that, MJ would defend him against anyone and anything. Her loyalty had always been a defining trait, assuming the person in question was worthy of it. “Well, if you’re driving, you can give me a ride home. Weirdly, we live in the same place,” MJ said lightly, playing along with his unfortunate, forced charade. “You know, I’m really proud of you for driving, too. That can’t be easy,” MJ added, her tone turning serious as she spoke.

As the party turned way more chaotic, MJ genuinely wasn’t sure what to do. Her identity was a secret, she couldn’t help control the crowd without the suit — no one would listen to her — and she couldn’t get on the Iron Spider in a crowded place like this. Tony seemed more focused on leaving, and honestly, he had a point. They were pretty much useless in a situation like this, and judging by Doom’s disappearance, he knew what the fallout was going to be. “Coats don’t go with this outfit,” she scoffed, hoping to ease the tension in Tony’s shoulders. “You ready to go? I’m definitely ready to go,” she told him. Idly, MJ considered whether or not she should feel guilty about that, but hey, it wasn’t her responsibility to singlehandedly save the world. She did what she could! “Nah, you’re just old enough to get us out of this. Wisdom and all that,” MJ disagreed. Tony was experienced, he could handle the cleanup of all of this, if it was even possible to clean up. Honestly, she wasn’t sure. “I’m not sure that’s possible anymore,” MJ admitted, shrugging a shoulder. “Everyone is fucking crazy and we just have to deal with it, I think. You got any ideas of how to deal with this one?”

“More than that, I want you to fight her,” Tony deadpanned. “I want you to put on your other outfit for the night-” Smooth, Tony. “-and I want you to throw down with a grandmother. Can I record it if you do? The employees need a morale boost, and they look up to you. You’re, like, the paragon saint of morale.” He was rambling. Doom was approaching the stage with a serious look on his face that could mean nothing good, and Tony needed to keep talking to prevent himself from laughing nervously. This was not a laughing situation! “Really? I haven’t noticed you around. Are you the stalker Pep mentioned the other day at breakfast?” Tony teased. His smile became softer, though, at her next words. “Yeah, it sucks, but I’m kinda proud of me too. Besides, it saves us having to get a cab, and my car is way nicer.”

Come have a nice relaxing night! Party your stresses away! Curfew lifted for one night only, so that the entire city can have fun in a protected environment! Tony didn’t need as much experience as he had being an Avenger to know that all three of those marketing pitches had been tempting fate. The fact that Doom had even said them with a straight face while planning to do this, though, was proof that he was more dangerous than he was letting on - or at least a major douchebag. Then again, most politicians were. “Fashion over function. I’ve never been more proud of a person in my life,” Tony said. His gaze moved to the crowd that was swelling, half towards the door, the other half towards Doom. Nothing else good would happen tonight, and Iron Man hadn’t exactly proven to be anti-inflammatory in these kinds of situations. Strangely, having a man associated with violence in front of them didn’t calm people down! “People have a right to be angry. Doom’s staff should be prepared to handle this. If we can get out and bring others with us, that’s the best thing to do, right?” He sighed, lifting his own coat off the hook as they walked. “Unlisted people are going to be targeted, so beyond encouraging them to list - which plays into Doom’s plan, right? - I can’t see what to do other than protect them when fights break out.”

master-of-mystic-arts:

The idea of the demons talking was only marginally worse than having Tony’s nickname become public. In truth, if they did have the ability to speak, they might actually be coerced into giving up some useful information, so it might not have been that bad of a prospect after all. “Right. We certainly don’t need them repeating anything that you come up with. That would just be horrifying.” Stephen did not even want to dwell on the demons repeating any of Tony’s witticisms. That would be ghastly.

Having a conversation with Tony while floating above the wasteland was a less-than-ideal place for such a thing, but Stephen had had conversations in much more weird places. And perhaps Tony had a point. What better place to discuss their conundrum than in the very place which was the heart of the problem? “An excellent idea. Should I conjure a tea service so we can have a tea party in the air like Mary Poppins?” Stephen inquired a bit too sarcastically. 

He wished he did have a plan to get New York back to Earth, but he felt that Tony was not really expecting him to have one. “I wish I did, truly I do. This whole situation makes me feel so inadequate.” Stephen did not like to admit that sort of thing to Tony, but there was no denying that he was supposed to be protecting Earth, and if an entire city was moved to another dimension on his watch, it was not exactly a secret. “If only I could accidentally stumble on a way to return the way I stumbled upon this in the first place. Somehow I doubt I shall be that fortunate.”

Tony wasn’t entirely sure whether he and Stephen Strange could be considered friends or not. He liked to believe so, though he would never admit that out loud. He preferred to keep his declarations of affection strictly to embarrassing nicknames, bad jokes and poking fun at the other person’s expense. “Hey, sometimes I come up with really good things! Like, um, self-operating toaster ovens. Self warming blankets. A bunch of A.I.s that have distinct personalities. I make a mean scrambled egg breakfast, if I have a couple hours free.”

He was definitely diminishing some of his better inventions and achievements, the main one of which was of course the suit that he was currently flying around in and the arc reactor that was lodged firmly in between his sternum, but that was part of the point. Humour made situations better. Besides, compared to Strange finding the wasteland in the first place and therefore enabling the heroes to bring back resources, Tony hadn’t really provided as much to this situation as he would’ve liked. “Can you actually do that?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow behind the mask. “Scratch that, of course you can. I take ginseng.”

Inadequate was definitely one word that Tony would use to describe how he felt about the whole situation. “Yeah, I know a little bit of what that’s like,” Tony mused. “I was just getting used to the idea of space travel again, you know, after New York, and then this happens.” Tony’s sanity was definitely hanging on by a string, put it that way! “Fortune favours the brave, right? And we’re definitely that. Hey, while we’re here, we might as well have some fun with those guys.” Tony pointed to the small congregation of demons that had appeared on the ground beneath them, snarling insistently. “I’m really in the mood for some free anger management. My therapist costs a fortune.”

panthergcd:

“At least you’re smart enough to admit it,” T’Challa chuckled. Modesty was an important trait for anyone to have, be they king or engineer, and while many seemed to doubt that Tony Stark was capable of it, T’Challa knew differently. He’d seen enough of Stark’s inner workings to know the man was hardly as egotistical as he lead people to believe. “Mmm, I am a hard man to convince. I may be swayed with the Thai.” Okoye would likely be outraged if she knew of all the ‘junk’ T’Challa had been putting into his body since New York’s separation from the world, but as she was not here, there was no one to stop him from continuing. 

If asked, T’Challa might speculate that the tradition of Wakandan kings carrying the role of Black Panther grounded them in a way other royalty could not relate to. He had not grown up protected, hadn’t been shielded from all harm and allowed to shrug off of physical activity in favor of sitting on a throne. Instead, he’d trained. He’d built relationships with his people, learned their names as he acted as their hero. It made him more down to Earth than most, more relatable. It certainly helped him fit in in America. “I’m not sure I want to give her the ego boost of allowing her designs to be admired worldwide,” he laughed, imagining Shuri’s reaction to such a thing. She’d be undoubtedly excited, but the cost of her head growing larger seemed high. “Slower than I’d like. The demons and the curfew make things difficult.”

“That’s what comes with the title of ‘super genius.’ It’s not just a plaque on the wall like this thing,” Tony said, gesturing behind him to the PhD that had pride of place right above the waste basket. “You know what that is? Useless!” Some thought that Iron Man would be a traditionalist, pushing forward MIT above all else, demanding that everyone had a PhD before they came to work for him, but he had never been about that in the slightest, even before Afghanistan. Education wasn’t available to everyone, a single PhD didn’t come close to explaining the amount of knowledge in Tony’s mind, and that meant he based his staff choices on personal attributes and experience rather than anything else. “Then we’ll get it ordered to the door. The delivery guys always love coming up here!” They enjoyed the tips, at least - the threat of being blown up on the way, by experiment or villain, significantly less so.

Tony nodded, humming in understanding at T’Challa’s words. “I can imagine most people aren’t exactly focusing on international relations right now,” he said. “I’m just panicking that my tickets to Mallorca are going to stay good, honestly. Do you think the airline would accept dimensional displacement as a reason not to go on the holiday? I need that money back, T’Challa, I’m a starving … student?” Tony’s own situation had been somewhat stalled by the situation as well. He was trapped in this place with Tiberius Stone, his studies were halted by the fact he couldn’t speak to international experts, and he really, really hated eating Italian food in New York City. It was nothing like traditional Venetian cuisine!

starfcx:

While he was fairly certain that Tony was joking, Eros had been known to bring champagne along in less-than-ideal settings in the past, so to him it did not sound quite as outrageous as it should have. “I would hope you took her someone much nicer than this place,” he remarked, “Unless adventuring is her idea of a romantic outing?” He had known a few ladies like that, so it was not out of the realm of possibility. “Egg! Yes, of course! Forgive me, I am still learning Earth phrases. There do seem to be a lot about chickens! Isn’t there another one about a chicken crossing something?”

They crossed the barrier and quickly came face to face with the demons. Eros frowned. They were certainly persistent. Tony dealt swiftly with the initial attacker, and its fellows did not look pleased. “Ordinarily I would say the same, my friend, but I do not think these creatures will respond to any sort of peace offering.” Indeed not, for another demon came charging up towards them. Eros wasted no time, meeting it head on and punching it hard enough that it crashed back to the ground, knocked completely senseless. “That, I fear, is only dialogue they understand!” Another was heading towards him, and he quickly flew circles around the demon until it became so disoriented that Eros was able to throw it down to crash on top of its fellow.

“You seriously doubt me? I’m the most romantic man this side of Manhattan!” Given the fact that the rest of the world had disappeared, Tony figured that he at least stood a chance of that being true. Of course, last week he had set up a dinner in between the greased up remains of two engines, a dinner that consisted of beans on toast, but Pepper understood the sentiment behind it. “I took her to the most expensive restaurant in the city. Best views, too, if you ignored the demons flying into the windows. How can they be as stupid as birds but still pose so much of a threat? It seems counterintuitive!” Tony laughed, nodding as he did so, feeling the tension release itself somewhat from his shoulders. There was a reason he loved working in a team so much, after all. “The chicken crossing the road. It’s more a punchline, or a really shitty joke, but it’s always a classic. People laugh at how bad it is.”

Tony hadn’t expected for the demons to arrive and thwart their plans quite as quickly as they did. It was almost as if they had been anticipating someone coming across the border. Perhaps they had found it within themselves to reform in that way - it wouldn’t be outside the realms of possibility. “Maybe if we punch them hard enough they’ll accept a nice fruit basket?” Tony offered. “A lot of bad guys give up the second it starts to hurt!”

arachnophiliad:

@the-m3chanic

It wasn’t a good time for a lens flash, but if Jessica had learned one thing about the Bugle and their cameramen, it was that they loved coming around at all the wrong times. When she was covered in slime, blood or another substance that was not hers, they were right there, taking hundreds of pictures. When Spider-Woman made one of the greatest saves of all time and still looked amazing, the Bugle’s people were nowhere in sight. Currently, they were in a similar situation. Some kind of monster had gotten slime or something —  god knew what it was exactly, all Jessica could tell was that it was bright blue and sticky — coated her and Stark head to toe. So much for having a good night!

“What’s that saying that Clint always uses?” Jessica asked Tony bitterly. “This looks bad? ‘Cause it looks terrible,” she continued. Quoting Clint was also a low point in her life, but she figured she couldn’t get much lower than blue and slimy across New York City papers. Turning towards the Bugle’s reporter, Jessica fixed a glare. “If you want to keep standing there, I’m going to miraculously get the rest of this slime/guts combo all over you, bug boy,” she informed him. At least the insult wasn’t half bad, he was wearing a shirt with bugs all over it, and he was really bugging her. “You think you can pay them off to never run that? I’m not all about vanity, but Spider-Woman’s got an image to maintain.” She would never be intimidating or cool again.

Tony hadn’t imagined that there would be any point of his life when he would actively look forward to a good old fashioned fist fight with a giant slime monster. There was no morality there, nothing to debate with the rest of his team, no transparency that could be manipulated into betrayal. It was a one-two punch, and when he had Spider-Woman by his side, that made for one hell of a fight. Typically he felt satisfied after something like this, as if he had done something unarguably good for the world at large, but then the slime monster let out one last belch before it dropped onto the pavement, and he and his teammate were drenched in some form of ectoplasm.

“‘I can’t believe we’re still alive?’” Tony suggested. When Jess spoke again, he let out an ‘ah,’ nodding in agreement. He kept a step behind her as she threatened one of the journalists, which made him look as if he was about to piss his pants, rightfully so. He had just witnessed her blasting the fuck out of a slime monster twenty times his size, after all! “She means it,” Tony said, which felt a lot less threatening but definitely counted as support. “I think I could pay anyone off with enough motivation,” Tony said, lifting his arm up and wincing behind the mask, “and this is definitely motivation. Hey, me and Riri worked on these echo blasters. Want me to see if sound can blast this stuff off us? I really don’t feel like explaining to Nat why we trailed this into the gym showers.”

exposed-likeanerve:

[ starter for @the-m3chanic ]

“So I have to say, this isn’t shaping up to be one of my favorite parties.”

Bruce was definitely guilty of understating his feelings at the moment. He didn’t enjoy parties to begin with. Too many people, talking about so many things that didn’t ultimately matter at all, pretending that they all liked each other while wearing clothes that cost more than every last supply he’d ever stocked the clinic with put together and eating food that wasn’t actually made out of food. Needless to say, he didn’t get it. But this had, somehow, managed to be worse, because there was all of that and then, on top of it, there was all of the information Doom had been given about the Hulk, in glowing letters on the wall.

Usually, the writing on the wall spelling his doom was a lot less literal than this.

When the night had started to go south for him with Doom’s speech, he’d essentially frozen where he was, and it was his first stroke of luck tonight that there was a friend nearby. “Please remind me why I decided to come to this?” He could have been sitting at home with a book, in blissful ignorance and his pajamas. That would have been a much nicer way to spend his evening.

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted. “If you think this is bad, you should’ve seen me in Las Vegas, 1999. ‘Yeesh’ is the only word I can use to describe it.”

Joking, of course, was Tony’s immediate response to absolutely everything. If something was going well, he quipped about it. If he had accidentally built a genocidal robot that threatened to destroy the entire world, he burst out into inappropriate laughter. If a party went to hell, which really the great futurist should have been able to predict, Tony was damned if he wasn’t going to make fun of it.

One thing that he couldn’t exactly joke about, though, was the fact that yet again, honesty, transparency and accountability had been used against people. Good people. People that had been betrayed over and over again, people that were his friends, people who relied on what he said to help them make their decisions. Did Tony want to punch Doom in the face? Absolutely. Did that mean he was going to do it? Probably, if Bruce wasn’t there, and he wasn't focused on getting his friend safely out of the chaos. See, he was growing!

“Because I would’ve called you a loser if you didn’t?” Tony suggested, turning around to set his mocktail on the now empty bar. “I’m guessing we’re not going to join that angry mob,” he commented, gesturing to the group that were rapidly advancing towards Doom, “so can I suggest following that terrified mob, instead?” Going towards the exit seemed the best choice of action, all things considered.

adarkknightrises:

@the-m3chanic

Bruce’s jaw was clenched so tight he was in danger of cracking his teeth. He had distrusted Doom from the beginning of this whole mess, but for once couldn’t savour the feeling of vindication from being proven right. By publishing the names of the heroes that had registered with him, Doom had done more than just violate the trust of the heroes that had complied. He had made all of them, and their families, targets for retribution from anyone who felt animosity towards them. And with the city’s resourced stretched to the breaking point as things were, who would be able to prevent such actions. President or not, someone had to act against him. Yet again his hesitancy to act seemed like others were going to feel the cost.

Pushing through the crowd at a brisk walk, speaking quietly into the communicator in his ear. “Alfred, something’s happened. There’s a rooftop adjacent to this building with ample space to drop the suit. Send the Batplane to the following co-ordinates-” He was cut off when he felt a hand grasp his wrist firmly. Fighting the urge to pull away, he turned straight into none other than Tony Stark holding him back. Bruce cursed inwardly, wondering how much he had heard of the conversation. He tried to pull his arm back, but Tony held firm. They locked eyes in a heated moment, a mutual understanding that Bruce was about to do something extreme passing between them.

“Don’t touch what you can’t afford, Stark.” What normally would have been part and parcel of their friend/rival banter came out with no humour in it. “There’s something important I have to do. I can explain later, but right now this is something I don’t want you getting involved with.” 

With billionaires, there were certain eccentricities that were to be expected. Tony had been friends - a loose term, but the only one that could be used in the circumstances - with a man that had once dressed solely in leopard print chinos and bright pink t-shirts, even to board meetings, galas and weddings. Bruce Wayne, he supposed, was not exempt from that, which Tony used as an explanation for the gut feeling that sometimes grabbed him when he was in the other man’s company. There were moments over the years, periods of time when Tony was actually sober and therefore perceptive, when he thought that there was an entire version of Bruce Wayne he had not yet seen, that he would probably never see. Then the moment was over, Bruce had a small, polite smile on his face as he was shaking the hands of people he would never remember after the night was out, and Tony was forced to look at his friend with mild confusion for a moment before moving on.

Tonight, that gut feeling came back in full force. The party had burst into chaos, half of the guests were running for the doors, but Tony had never been in the business of running from his problems. Bruce wasn’t, either, but there was something else in his eyes, a righteous fury that Tony had seen many times on Carol’s face, or even Steve’s. On his way to the stage, an attempt to garner the attention of the crowd and calm them, Tony saw Bruce, and grabbed the other man’s arm.

“I’m trying to stop you from doing something you know isn’t a good idea,” Tony said, though the look that they shared implied they both knew, in reality, it was something that needed doing. He wasn’t sure of the specifics, but Bruce had that hard look in his eye. “Explaining later is what I do, and newsflash? It doesn’t typically work out for me. If you’re doing something, let me help. Give me something.”

abornentertainer:

It wasn’t a surprise to take up the subject of his family and find the old familiar pain hidden away underneath it. Dick had worn the edges of that hurt smooth over the years, but that didn’t make it disappear. He wondered if Tony was feeling the same thing, considering that his parents weren’t around any more either. But he hadn’t let that pain make him anything other than momentarily glum in a very long time. His parents were gone. All the moping in the world couldn’t change that, and he sort of felt like he owed it to them to do all the living they couldn’t. So when he spoke, his tone was still bright and happy. “See, this is why you run away and join the circus. You can pick any fights you want, and you’ve got the strong man to back you up when the fight turns out to be too big.” He hadn’t stopped laughing, the idea of Tony Stark legally changing his name so his initials spelled ASS was delightful. He could practically see the headlines. “I can see that. It’s definitely an amazing talent.”

Now that was a point of view that he couldn’t understand. School had never had anything on the circus, when he’d gone, and comparing school and life at home with Batman? No contest, Batman won by miles. “Ah, man, see what you should have done was get some speed going near the top of the stairs, hit the banister, and jump off halfway. You time it right in Wayne Manor and you can actually jump onto the chandelier in the entryway.” He frowned, briefly, then added “It’s been almost fifteen years and I’m pretty sure Bruce still doesn’t know how I got up there.”

Tony was not, contrary to popular belief, entirely self-centered. In fact, any selfishness that was present had been borne of an insane need to appear confident so that he didn’t get swallowed up by the vapid socialites during his time in L.A. Going to the Sunshine Coast had been a dream of his since he was twelve, give or take, but it had never quite involved a mansion and fifty-five metal suits taking up space in his basement. It had involved a run down beach house, a garage filled with classic car parts, and a family. Things rarely turned out the way they were supposed to, but the fact that Tony was not as he appeared meant that he knew when things were just a little bit weird. The Wayne family? They were weird. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it - to the outside world it was just a billionaire and his kids, prone to the same eccentricities as all other billionaires and their children - but it chewed away at him over the years, made him consider everything they said with just a bit more perception than was entirely necessary.

Dick, though, was a lot more normal than Damian was. He was a lot easier to talk to, he had his opinions but never seemed inclined to stab someone for disagreeing, and for all intents and purposes, he didn’t ring alarm bells. That just made Tony more suspicious, honestly. “So it was an intentional choice, then?” Tony asked with a grin. “I thought the circus was just something that happened along the way. Like a permanent hitchhike.” Tony Stark joining the circus would really have been something. “See, I would try that the next time I’m around, but I feel like that would be the occasion when Bruce would actually ban me from his residences, and I really enjoy going to the cabin in the Alps every now and again. Pepper likes skiiing, I’m obliged to keep in with the guy who makes it possible.”

supersoldierwithashield:

Maybe they hadn’t been on the same side of certain things for a while, but Steve still liked to think he knew the ‘playboy billionaire philanthropist’ fairly well. (At least well enough to know that ‘playboy’ was defined as ‘property of Pepper Potts, for example.) He’d seen Tony at parties before, watched him shine and dazzle the room, like the most capable snake-oil salesman there ever was. Steve wasn’t surprised to see him at the party, dressed to the nines. What surprised him was how much it looked like Tony didn’t want to be there.

Of course, Pepper had yet to arrive. And maybe he preferred to be the host rather than a guest. “I’ll take your word for it,” Steve shrugged, brow furrowing for a moment as he watched Tony’s gaze drop. It took him only a second to understand, to connect the little details. “Music wasn’t ever my thing, really,” he said, casually handing his untouched glass to a passing server. He thanked them quietly, and then turned back to Tony. “Wouldn’t you show up, if it was your party?” he asked, tilting his head. “And don’t you wear suits like that for fun?” he added, smirking ever so slightly. 

One thing that they could always rely on, even when the rest of the world was going to hell in a handbasket, was that there would always be change. Disagreements would come and go, and the very issue that had once torn the Avengers apart was now nothing but a distant memory, occasionally rearing its head only to be overshadowed by a sketchy president and some extremely irritated demonic presences. For all of the conversations they had, drawing out late into the evening and well until the sun came up, Tony had never managed to say the one thing that Steve probably needed to hear, that the months they were on different sides were some of the worst he had ever lived through. He doubted those words would ever pass his lips, but thinking them hard enough that it definitely showed on his face had to count for something.

“You’re blessed,” Tony commented drily. “Mom used to be obsessed with the theatre. Opera, Beethoven, Bach, the lot. If I fell asleep, she took it as a personal offence.” Tony watched as Steve set his glass back on the tray, and tried not to let his breath of relief show. “You don’t need to do that,” he said, not sounding entirely convinced, and grateful for the change in subject. “Steve, the entire point of most of my parties was to make people wonder whether I was going to show up or not. You need to maintain an air of mystery to keep them coming back.” Tony smirked, rolling his eyes as he did so. “Only when Pep wants me to. Surprised you could find one to fit your general … personhood. Did you call up that tailor? He’s a great guy, absolutely loves the whole ‘wartime legend’ thing you’ve got going on.”