starlight, soot, and shoes | T.S

starlight, soot, and shoes | T.S

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Sep 19, 2025
"You're doing it wrong." Tony doesn't even spare the kid a glance when he tightens the screw. "MIT graduate at 17, billionaire genius, built my own suit in a cave from scrap, survived a kidnapping with said scrap suit, currently earth's first self-made superhero," He has a hand on his hip, the other holding onto the wrench loosely as he looks down at the pint-sized bastard with a raised brow. "I don't see any other credible credentials than that, Handy Manny." The bastard had the nerve to look bored. Tony shouldn't mind him. It's a kid. He's the adult! He can't even take his opponent seriously. His Star Wars shirt was bigger than him (stolen from Tony's closet), the green cargo shorts Pepper had bought for his wardrobe had soot on both knees, and his little Converse feet were swinging on the roller chair as he sips on an apple juice he made Happy get for him. The sour patch kids on the table weren't even finished yet. Tony didn't like how condescending he looked while sipping his juice. "Still wrong." "Damn you." -- When Nick Fury finally has enough of playing cat and mouse, Orion finds himself reassigned to an entirely new "facility." Nobody said anything about a Malibu mansion. Or a seaside view. Or sharing living space with an eccentric, egotistical, borderline-narcissist billionaire. When a runaway kid genius meets a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist with a knack for building weapons-grade suits in his basement, it's only a matter of time before something explodes. (TLDR: Tony Stark accidentally gains a cosmic stowaway.)
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#175
thorodinson
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⚠️Under 18, DNI⚠️ After the flaming dumpster fire that was SHIELD's collapse and the whole "surprise, Hydra was here the whole damn time!" debacle, one former agent slipped through the cracks like a pissed-off ghost in a leather jacket. She vanished from the grid, reputation scorched, trust obliterated, and purpose? Shattered. Enter Tony Stark. Because of course it was Tony. He found her somewhere between a breakdown and a bar fight, took one look at the smudged eyeliner, the sarcasm-drenched trauma, and the "bite me" attitude-and said, "Yeah, I can work with that." He brought her in, tucked her away in the shadows of the compound, and trained her like a secret weapon no one saw coming. Four years of quiet sharpening. Four years of sweat, rage, Red Bull, and a whole lot of therapy avoidance. And when he finally deemed her ready? He unleashed her like a feral raccoon with a vengeance complex. Gone was the clean-cut SHIELD poster girl. In her place: chaos incarnate. Combat boots, chipped black nail polish, hair that looked like it had been in a fistfight with a Lisa Frank folder, and a mouth that could out-swear a sailor with road rage. The Avengers? They didn't know what to do with her. And yet. Two of the most emotionally constipated, chaos-flavored men on the roster found themselves utterly, stupidly hooked. Bucky Barnes tried to pretend he wasn't watching her-like she didn't short-circuit something in his brain every time she threw a knife with that smug little grin. But he noticed everything. Then there was Loki. The God of Trouble himself. She was unpredictable. Unrefined. Unapologetically alive. So now? It's a quiet war between two broody bastards who've never properly communicated a feeling in their lives, and the chaos gremlin woman who thinks emotional vulnerability is worse than waterboarding. There's blood. Banter. Probably some light property damage. Spoiler: it's not going well. But it's going loud.

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