r: tony stark

i still cant get over the updated sorcerer supreme tony stark 

he has a giant a crotch arc reactor 

also is that a ponytail

and look at at that tiny fucking robot helper holding up his cape so it looks more dramatic oh my fucking go d

jfc tony ur a hot mess in every universe




“I don’t know, Steve. I can’t really explain it myself. Maybe it’s because you bring me coffee at three in the morning even when you’re still mad at me, or because you apologized all seventy-six times for stepping on my toes when we danced. Maybe it’s a hundred other ridiculous things about being your fake husband. I don’t know how it happened except that somewhere along the way I forgot how to pretend. I forgot I wasn’t supposed to really be in love with you.”

tiberius (i tried something)

warnings: implied emotional abuse, discussion of abuse and abusive tactics

“Steve,” Natasha says, putting one hand on his arm just as he’s about to climb out of the car.

Steve turns to listen to whatever it is she has to say. Her expression is grim, delicate brows twisted just a little.

“Remember how I said I thought Tony’s boyfriend was abusive?”

“I remember,” Steve agrees.

“I want you to also remember that whatever he shows you may not reflect that.”

“I…think I understand.” Steve frowns as he tries to piece together what he thinks she’s telling him. “You’re saying…he’ll hide what he does.”

“It could be misdirection, distraction, or the abuse may just be part of a private facet of his personality. Whatever it is, he may not seem like the type of man who could be abusive. Do you see what I’m saying?”

Steve swallows. “You think he might pull one over on me. Make me think he’s a nice guy.”

Natasha looks him unflinchingly in the eye. “He’s an abuser. Abusers are exceptionally good at camouflaging themselves. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have partners, and they wouldn’t get away with the things they do.”

“Okay,” Steve says, back straightening. “I have to be alert. I can do that.”

Natasha catches him by the arm again and Steve pauses, surprised. “Don’t beat yourself up if he gets you, Steve,” she says. “There are trained professionals who study men like this who still get caught up in their webs.”

Apprehension creeps up Steve’s spine. This time when he reaches for the door, Natasha lets him get it open. He steps out into the bright sunshine and he’s turning to shut the door when Natasha calls, “And Steve?”

He pokes his head back in the car.

“If Tony gets weird, or seems not like himself, that’s why. It won’t have anything to do with you. Don’t make it about you.”

“Sure,” Steve says, throat suddenly dry. He can do that.

Dammit, Natasha’s always right.

Steve goes in fully prepared to be civil with Tiberius, but not a bit warmer. But then, as Tony—who is strange and sullen, just like Natasha said he might be—is introducing them, Tiberius spots an older woman to Steve’s right who has a swathe of bad burns up her arm and across half of her face, the scarred skin completely covering her eye.

When Tiberius opens his mouth, Steve is braced for something that will grind his teeth, but all Tiberius says is, “I’m sorry, give me just a minute.”

Then he goes to the woman and touches her shoulder. Steve doesn’t expect to see her light up the way she does, or the warm hug they share.

Tony must see his confusion because he says, “That’s Aiyana. She works for Viastone. Two years ago her husband set her house on fire with her inside.”

Horrified, Steve stares at Tony.

“Ty pays his janitorial staff better than most places, but four weeks in the hospital is still over the threshold of affordability for them. He paid her bills, visited her three times a week the whole stay.” Tony’s expression is soft and said. “Ty’s good to his people—it’s a big part of why I fell in love with him.”

“Sorry,” Tiberius says when he returns, hand outstretched to shake Steve’s hand. “Friend I haven’t seen in awhile. So, Steve, what is it you like to do?”

After, Steve sits in shock, a beer in one hand. “He seems like a good guy,” he says incredulously to Natasha. “He asked about my art. He brought Tony drinks and talked about how Viastone’s success is founded on treating every employee like a person first and an employee second. He’s funny and—” Steve takes a long pull from his beer, feeling hunted. “He got me,” he croaks. “But I knew—

“Imagine how it went for Tony.”

Steve pales. “He never stood a chance.”

Natasha nods. “He’s all smiles and charm until he’s got you in his web. Then it’s too late. You’re stuck.”

Steve glances over at Natasha, away from the wall. “Then how do we—how can we help him?”

Natasha shrugs with one shoulder. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. All it takes is one person who treats you like you matter—like you’re more than a thing.” She looks across the room to where Clint is sitting and they exchange a look that says more than some of the books Steve’s read. “Be patient. Tony has to see for himself what Tiberius is doing to him or he’ll stay stuck.”

Steve chews his lip. “There’s nothing else I can do?”

Natasha turns eyes that know too much on him. “Rhodes and Pepper are Tony’s oldest friends aside from Tiberius. You’ve seen how Tony holds them at arm’s length. They tried to make him see. All you can do is refuse to let Tony lie to himself about his culpability in this and wait. Then, when he’s ready, you help him get free.”

Steve takes a shaky breath. Inaction in the face of something like this goes against everything Steve believes, everything he’s fought for. He wants to forcibly remove Tony and make him see sense, even though he can hardly see it himself. But yeah, he’s seen the way Tony all but cut Rhodes out of his life, how stiff and formal he is around Pepper, and according to Natasha they’re his best friends. Rhodes spent three months in the desert searching for Tony. They had tried what Steve wants to try and it had blown up in their faces.

He can’t make the same mistake.

“Okay,” he says, taking another unsteady breath. “Then that’s my play. Wait and watch.”

Natasha smiles thinly behind her own glass bottle. “Might just be the hardest fight of your life, Rogers.”


I don’t think Tony had ever tried to kill himself before. Not actively. Because he’s clever enough that if he wanted to, he would die. Rather, I think he just lived in a sort of way where it was quite clear he didn’t care whether he lived or died. Driving fast, drinking too much, and when he had the suit, risking his life to save others. As though his life was lesser than theirs. And maybe those are the actions of a hero, but they’re also the actions of someone who values their life a lot less than they should. And that hurts.