Thor fic rec: Halo, by paxlux (M)
Title: Halo
Author:
paxlux
Fandom: Thor
Continuity: Movie
Characters/Pairings: Loki/Ironman, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Phil Coulson, Nick Fury, Bruce Banner, Pepper Potts, Captain America, Jarvis
Length: 35,912 words
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Trailers for the Avengers movie
Why this must be read/seen: An Avengers fic in which Loki reconciles with Thor (or pretends to) and starts hanging out with the Avengers, to Tony Stark's horror and paranoia. It is excellently written and characterised, and quite amusing in a wry way.
The timeline starts in a fall of glass. The world slows when Loki appears in front of him, teeth bared, and all Tony can think is, Shit, I’m vulnerable, because he isn’t in his suit, just a shirt and jeans and then Loki’s hands are on him, bruises for tomorrow, he thinks as the world speeds up like whiplash and there’s a staggering loss of gravity, the pain of a window smashing against his spine and Loki laughs as Tony stares up at the suddenly blue sky, shit, I’m vulnerable.
Definite bruises for tomorrow because Tony doesn’t hit the ground, scooped roughly out of the air by Cap in the transport like some sort of awful militarized fairy tale, and how is this his life.
How isn’t it.
Loki captured is a vibratingly calm Loki in a cell while Thor glowers at everyone, running his hands through his hair until Fury lets him see his brother and Tony starts to breathe.
They watch on a bank of monitors as Thor and Loki almost come to blows, but Tony says, “Asgardian male bonding in captivity, caught by cameras for the first time ever, this should be documented with a British accent,” and Steve says, “Great, let ‘em bring down the whole building,” and Tony says, “Well, we are missing a window now, the architectural line is all fucked up, might as well start from scratch.”
It takes broken furniture, some gouges in the wall, and Steve almost grabbing his shield before the brothers calm down, Thor’s hand on Loki’s shoulder, Loki gripping his wrist and they talk, hunched like lifelong affectionate adversaries.
“A misunderstanding,” Thor says later.
Clint looks comical in his disbelief and Natasha sighs, but Tony doesn’t let things pass without words and lots of them.
“You mean, destruction on a scale even I’m jealous of and possible death, dismemberment, all the nasty things covered by insurance, not to mention the stuff that’s not, you wouldn’t believe the things insurance won’t pay out for,” - he makes a motion, rolling, a long list of unbelievable shit - “like streets razed by magic and a maniacal evil genius with jazz hands. Fuck, I could build something that could do that and it still wouldn’t be as fucking fancy, the point is ‘misunderstanding’ is putting it lightly, big guy, or I’m mistaken. And I’d take that bet.”
He stops, nursing his sore shoulder, rubbing at it as Bruce murmurs, “It should be biologically impossible for you to talk so much without breathing,” and Thor’s pouting, which means physically pouting with Mjölnir and maybe Tony shouldn’t have opened his mouth. It happens.
“Misunderstanding,” Thor insists, “surely this is the correct term, even here on Midgard, when there is-“
If Tony didn’t know better, he’d think Thor was fucking with him and he must move without realizing it because Steve is suddenly there, hands out.
“No, Thor, we know the word. It just seems a damn bit-“
“Unbalanced,” Clint says, pointing an arrow at Thor and Thor frowns, all upset thunder, and there’s about to be an argument.
And Tony’s been thrown out a window already today, he likes his reckless high-flying antics and adrenaline rushes, but he’s good for today, forced base jumping (“falling, Tony, you were falling,” Steve yelled over the chop of the transport) wasn’t on his agenda, so he takes a step back. He feels the faint hum of his arc reactor, remembers the drop of utter weightlessness, and the panicked idea that the only thing holding him together was the metal in his chest.
He watches Loki on the video feed.
He remembers how he suddenly appeared. Fingers grabbing him, hurling him like a penny.
He tugs at the hem of his shirt and sees the splotches on his skin in long finger shapes. Bruises for tomorrow.
Thor’s arguing in the background, “He is my brother, he will-“
Loki runs a hand over the blank wall, pressing his palm to the paint.
No, that’s not all you are, you aren’t just Thor’s brother, Tony decides, fingertips on the monitor, next to Loki’s shadow. “Jarvis, start a file. On the Stark server. Map his body and characteristics for recognition. I want a full work-up and a tracking program in place. If his damn nose twitches, I want to know where the hell he’s going,” he says under the sounds of the escalating argument. “Treat this like a hellacious episode of ‘Bewitched,’” and Jarvis replies, “Of course, sir, and I’ll change the definition of ‘fraternization’ in the dictionary.”
“Research, Jarvis. And we’ll mess with the ‘magic’ later.”
“Archiving all episodes of ‘Bewitched’ off our main server. You want to know why he’s so magical?”
“Don’t sound so excited, Yente, no matchmaking, there’s too many fucking people in the house, it’s distracting you. Enemy reconnaissance. Science versus magic, it’s an actual thing and-what the fuck, I’m not explaining it to you now. I know where you live.”
“I know where you sleep, sir.”
“I don’t sleep.”
He watches Loki as Loki glances around, cool and nonchalant.
You know, don’t you, working out how to break out and it’d only take a snap of your fingers, he thinks. Loki tilts his head as if he’s heard something.
Then Coulson appears in the cell and the trickster smiles slow as if it’s a sunny day in the neighborhood.
It’s like perfect engineering, that smile, Tony can read genius in the lazy curve, whether the smile is manufactured or not, and he recognizes it: it feels like any time Tony’s seen the lines come together to form the whole, that instant moment of sheer thought and power, everything is so very easy, blood rushing to light up all the points of his body, I am a motherfucking god, and now, now he’s staring at a motherfucking god who tossed him out a window, and maybe he has glass embedded in his brain.
Tony thinks, Shit, I’m vulnerable.
Halo
Author:
paxlux
Fandom: Thor
Continuity: Movie
Characters/Pairings: Loki/Ironman, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Phil Coulson, Nick Fury, Bruce Banner, Pepper Potts, Captain America, Jarvis
Length: 35,912 words
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Trailers for the Avengers movie
Why this must be read/seen: An Avengers fic in which Loki reconciles with Thor (or pretends to) and starts hanging out with the Avengers, to Tony Stark's horror and paranoia. It is excellently written and characterised, and quite amusing in a wry way.
The timeline starts in a fall of glass. The world slows when Loki appears in front of him, teeth bared, and all Tony can think is, Shit, I’m vulnerable, because he isn’t in his suit, just a shirt and jeans and then Loki’s hands are on him, bruises for tomorrow, he thinks as the world speeds up like whiplash and there’s a staggering loss of gravity, the pain of a window smashing against his spine and Loki laughs as Tony stares up at the suddenly blue sky, shit, I’m vulnerable.
Definite bruises for tomorrow because Tony doesn’t hit the ground, scooped roughly out of the air by Cap in the transport like some sort of awful militarized fairy tale, and how is this his life.
How isn’t it.
Loki captured is a vibratingly calm Loki in a cell while Thor glowers at everyone, running his hands through his hair until Fury lets him see his brother and Tony starts to breathe.
They watch on a bank of monitors as Thor and Loki almost come to blows, but Tony says, “Asgardian male bonding in captivity, caught by cameras for the first time ever, this should be documented with a British accent,” and Steve says, “Great, let ‘em bring down the whole building,” and Tony says, “Well, we are missing a window now, the architectural line is all fucked up, might as well start from scratch.”
It takes broken furniture, some gouges in the wall, and Steve almost grabbing his shield before the brothers calm down, Thor’s hand on Loki’s shoulder, Loki gripping his wrist and they talk, hunched like lifelong affectionate adversaries.
“A misunderstanding,” Thor says later.
Clint looks comical in his disbelief and Natasha sighs, but Tony doesn’t let things pass without words and lots of them.
“You mean, destruction on a scale even I’m jealous of and possible death, dismemberment, all the nasty things covered by insurance, not to mention the stuff that’s not, you wouldn’t believe the things insurance won’t pay out for,” - he makes a motion, rolling, a long list of unbelievable shit - “like streets razed by magic and a maniacal evil genius with jazz hands. Fuck, I could build something that could do that and it still wouldn’t be as fucking fancy, the point is ‘misunderstanding’ is putting it lightly, big guy, or I’m mistaken. And I’d take that bet.”
He stops, nursing his sore shoulder, rubbing at it as Bruce murmurs, “It should be biologically impossible for you to talk so much without breathing,” and Thor’s pouting, which means physically pouting with Mjölnir and maybe Tony shouldn’t have opened his mouth. It happens.
“Misunderstanding,” Thor insists, “surely this is the correct term, even here on Midgard, when there is-“
If Tony didn’t know better, he’d think Thor was fucking with him and he must move without realizing it because Steve is suddenly there, hands out.
“No, Thor, we know the word. It just seems a damn bit-“
“Unbalanced,” Clint says, pointing an arrow at Thor and Thor frowns, all upset thunder, and there’s about to be an argument.
And Tony’s been thrown out a window already today, he likes his reckless high-flying antics and adrenaline rushes, but he’s good for today, forced base jumping (“falling, Tony, you were falling,” Steve yelled over the chop of the transport) wasn’t on his agenda, so he takes a step back. He feels the faint hum of his arc reactor, remembers the drop of utter weightlessness, and the panicked idea that the only thing holding him together was the metal in his chest.
He watches Loki on the video feed.
He remembers how he suddenly appeared. Fingers grabbing him, hurling him like a penny.
He tugs at the hem of his shirt and sees the splotches on his skin in long finger shapes. Bruises for tomorrow.
Thor’s arguing in the background, “He is my brother, he will-“
Loki runs a hand over the blank wall, pressing his palm to the paint.
No, that’s not all you are, you aren’t just Thor’s brother, Tony decides, fingertips on the monitor, next to Loki’s shadow. “Jarvis, start a file. On the Stark server. Map his body and characteristics for recognition. I want a full work-up and a tracking program in place. If his damn nose twitches, I want to know where the hell he’s going,” he says under the sounds of the escalating argument. “Treat this like a hellacious episode of ‘Bewitched,’” and Jarvis replies, “Of course, sir, and I’ll change the definition of ‘fraternization’ in the dictionary.”
“Research, Jarvis. And we’ll mess with the ‘magic’ later.”
“Archiving all episodes of ‘Bewitched’ off our main server. You want to know why he’s so magical?”
“Don’t sound so excited, Yente, no matchmaking, there’s too many fucking people in the house, it’s distracting you. Enemy reconnaissance. Science versus magic, it’s an actual thing and-what the fuck, I’m not explaining it to you now. I know where you live.”
“I know where you sleep, sir.”
“I don’t sleep.”
He watches Loki as Loki glances around, cool and nonchalant.
You know, don’t you, working out how to break out and it’d only take a snap of your fingers, he thinks. Loki tilts his head as if he’s heard something.
Then Coulson appears in the cell and the trickster smiles slow as if it’s a sunny day in the neighborhood.
It’s like perfect engineering, that smile, Tony can read genius in the lazy curve, whether the smile is manufactured or not, and he recognizes it: it feels like any time Tony’s seen the lines come together to form the whole, that instant moment of sheer thought and power, everything is so very easy, blood rushing to light up all the points of his body, I am a motherfucking god, and now, now he’s staring at a motherfucking god who tossed him out a window, and maybe he has glass embedded in his brain.
Tony thinks, Shit, I’m vulnerable.
Halo