Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Collections:
Definitely my guilty pleasure, Reaction/Reading/Watching Fics, «ajx» Characters Explores Fandom
Stats:
Published:
2021-08-02
Updated:
2023-10-24
Words:
13,020
Chapters:
6/?
Comments:
249
Kudos:
1,303
Bookmarks:
359
Hits:
33,768

The Avengers Watch Marvel

Summary:

Tony awoke slowly to find himself passed out on a concrete floor. One minute he was with Pepper and the next he was waking up in a theater with a bunch of people.

“What the fuck?”

Notes:

Copyright Disclaimer: Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, Allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing, Non-profit, educational, or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use. These characters are not own by me, they belong to the creator, Stan Lee, otherwise known as Stanley Martin Lieber. I do not own the movies that are being portrayed. I do not work for Marvel or Disney in any way and do not speak for the company. Enjoy this fanfic! :D

Chapter 1: Introductions

Summary:

Edited 5/3/2025 (Yes, I removed 3 characters because I frankly don't care much for them. If I need them later, they will have their own entrance)

Chapter Text

Tony awoke with a groan, cheek pressed against cold concrete. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing an unfamiliar ceiling. “What the fuck?” he muttered, pushing himself up on one elbow.

Last he checked, he’d been with Pepper. Now he was sprawled out on what looked suspiciously like the floor of a private theater.

Fantastic.

He sat up slowly, swaying as his head pounded, and staggered to his feet with the help of the nearest wall. Concrete wasn’t exactly known for its comfort. He blinked hard. Did I get kidnapped again? He did a quick mental inventory. No visible wounds, clothes intact, no telltale hangover haze.

Couldn’t be the booze. He’d been cutting back ever since the birthday incident. To be fair, he'd thought he was dying, and if he was going to go out, he wanted to do it in style. Sue him.

His eyes scanned the room. Sprawled across the floor like a pile of overdressed corpses were Steve, Banner, Natasha, Thor, Clint, Rhodey, Pepper (thank God), Happy, and Fury.

And then… strangers.

A man with black and gray hair, a suspiciously stylish wardrobe, and what looked like a stolen prop from a fantasy movie hanging around his neck. Another man with long, dark hair and enough brooding energy to summon the nearest Hot Topic employee. A teenager with red hair that looked like she could be Natasha’s twin… or daughter. Who knew how old Romanoff really was? 

He looked around and counted four more teenagers. Why are there so many kids here? 

And wait, is that the son of King T’Chaka? Tony was only half sure on that one. They’d never been formally introduced beyond a glance at some bureaucratic soiree.

And then his gaze landed on a familiar, unwelcome face.

“Loki?” he said aloud, mostly to himself. “Oh, hell no.”

Around him, groans and grumbles started to rise as the rest of the group began to stir, everyone waking up from what could only be described as forced group beauty sleep.

Tony rubbed at his temples and sighed. “This better not be another mind-control alien god scenario. I am not doing another one of those without coffee.” 

“You can say that again,” Banner muttered as he staggered upright beside Tony, one hand braced on his knee, the other rubbing at his temple. “Do you have any idea what could’ve caused this?”

Tony shook his head, still scanning the room. “Not unless I passed out while eating shawarma, and someone decided to collect the whole damn team like Pokémon.”

“Yeah. Getting all the Avengers in one place without warning?” Natasha’s voice was dry as ever, but her eyes were sharp, sweeping the room with calculated precision. “Big red flag.”

Before Tony could even start untangling the why behind any of this, a voice crackled to life over a hidden speaker.

“Hiya!”

It was high-pitched and cheerful, but unmistakably masculine and loud enough to make half the room jump.

Pepper definitely jumped.

She shot upright with a gasp, hair a mess and heart clearly racing, and made a beeline for Tony like a woman on the brink. Her hands latched onto his shoulders like anchors.

“What’s going on? Why are we here? Oh, Tony… I can’t keep doing this! One of these days, I’m going to have a heart attack from all these scares.”

“Hey, hey…breathe,” Tony said quickly, catching her wrists and gently peeling her hands off his shoulders. “I don’t know what’s happening yet, but I will figure it out. You know I always do.” He gave her a reassuring squeeze and glanced around the room with a frown. “Let’s just… keep it together until I can come up with a plan.”

“Aww… Isn’t that a touching moment? I can’t wait to see it again.” The mysterious voice continued. “Once one capsicle sees his other popsicle, I will!” He giggled.

“Capsicle?” Steve echoed with a slightly resigned look on his face.

Tony turned toward him, smirking. 

“Steve?”

Every muscle in Steve’s body went rigid. He didn’t answer.

 

Steve slowly turned towards that long-haired dude who called him and just… stared. 

 “Rogers?” Bruce called, watching him with concern. “Are you having a stroke? Who is that?”

Steve took a shaky step forward, then another, until he stood face-to-face with the man. Without warning, he threw his arms around him.

It wasn’t a casual hug. It was desperate. Tight enough to break ribs if the guy wasn’t enhanced.

The other man flinched hard at the sudden contact, visibly tense and stiff in Steve’s grip.

“Bucky…” Steve’s voice cracked, raw with disbelief. “I thought you died.”

For a moment, Bucky didn’t move. But then, slowly, cautiously, he lifted his hands and returned the hug like he wasn’t sure it was real either.

“We just saw each other like an hour ago,” Bucky muttered, brow furrowing as they pulled apart. “What’s going on?”

Natasha stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “Steve, who is he?”

He gave her a cursory glance. “This is my friend, Bucky, from back in World War Two. We were running a mission and he fell to his death,” He glanced back at Bucky. “-or so I thought.” 

The mysterious and annoying voice was back again… and it was squealing. “Aww, isn’t this sweet? Well, I think it’s time for everyone to grab a pillow and introduce themselves! Name, and what year you’re from, please!”

“How about you start?” Thor challenged, arms crossed.

“Aww, how considerate.” The voice cleared his throat. “The name’s Deadpool. Year: 42069.”

“No way that’s the actual year you’re from. And why would the year even matter?” Bruce muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It would matter when I plucked everyone from different years. But enough about me, you need to know who you’ll be dealing with in the room you’re in.”

One of the kids shot his hand up. “Um, well I’m Peter Parker. Oh! Mr. Stark! What’s the deal? Are we fighting?” Peter bounded up to him.

“Aw!! Tiny baby Spidey!” Deadpool squealed. Peter looked up with a confused face.

“Uh, hi? You already know my name, 2012.” Tony held out his hand to Peter who awkwardly shook it.

Peter hesitated, then shook it awkwardly. “Wow… I’d be twelve in your time. I’m from 2016. So I guess you haven’t met me yet.” His voice dipped at the end, eyes dropping to the floor like a kicked puppy.

Great, Tony thought. A sixteen-year-old kid. Fantastic.

“Nicholas Fury, 2012,” Fury said gruffly, arms folded. 

“Um. I’m Scott Lang. From 2015.”

“I’m Dr. Pym and this is my daughter, Hope. We’re with the idiot, 2015.” Scott made an offended noise.

“Clint Barton. 2012,” Clint said simply, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.

“It’s Doctor Stephen Strange,” the man in the cloak added, his tone dry and clipped. “From 2016.”

Peter frowned. “I thought we were giving our real names…”

Strange slowly turned his head to give Peter a look so withering it could sterilize a field. Tony couldn’t help the snort that escaped him.

“Natasha. 2012,” she said coolly, arms at her sides but alert, like she was expecting a trap.

“Thor, son of Odin,” the Asgardian declared, lifting his chin. “In your Midgard years… 2012, I believe.”

“Steve Rogers, 2012,” Steve said with a steady nod.

“Bucky Barnes. 2016.” Steve blinked at him, confusion flickering across his face before he looked away.

“Shuri. 2016,” the young teen said brightly, glancing around with open curiosity.

“Wanda Maximoff. 2015,” came a softer voice. Wanda gave a small wave, keeping close to the wall.

 

“Drax,” the big man rumbled, arms folded across his chest like a wall.

“Mantis,” she said with a cheerful wave, her antennae twitching as she looked around with wide-eyed wonder.

“Peter Quill,” said the man in the red jacket, flashing a crooked grin. “Better known as Star-Lord , by the way.”

“I’m Gamora,” she stated coolly, posture stiff and eyes constantly scanning the room like she didn’t trust a soul in it.

“I’m Nebula,” came a more cautious voice. As she stepped forward, the other four turned sharply to stare her down. Nebula hesitated, then inched a few paces away from the group. “Based on your reactions... beginning of 2014?” Her eyes flicked toward Gamora.

“Based on yours ... future?” Rocket asked, one brow raised, his tone laced with suspicion.

“Yes. Just a couple of months after you meet me,” Nebula said tightly. “I’m not going to attack you.”

“Oh really?” Gamora said, eyes narrowing.

Nebula didn’t respond. She just crossed her arms and looked away. 

“MJ, losers. From 2016,” said the redhead, deadpan, arms crossed as she leaned against a column like this was the most boring school assembly in history.

“Carol Danvers, 2017,” said the blonde woman in the flight suit, her tone clipped but confident.

"Hello. I am Yelena." The woman with the short blonde hair and thick Russian accent stepped forward casually, hands in her jacket pockets.

Natasha narrowed her eyes and strode toward her. “What are you doing here?” she asked, voice flat and clinical.

Yelena blinked at her. “Fuck if I know. I inhale red smoke and poof! Here I am. Why are you here?” Natasha turned on her heel and walked away without a word. Yelena watched her go, unimpressed. “Rude,” she muttered. Then louder, “Oh, year. We were doing years. The year is 2016."

 

Steve stepped forward slightly, brow furrowed. “Do you know her, Natasha?”

Natasha didn’t answer.

“Oh wow, I’m in a room with the Avengers… and aliens. This is, like, the greatest day of my life, Peter! There are real Avengers!” Ned practically word-vomited in a single breath, holding onto Peter’s arm tightly. Tony rolled his eyes at the fanboying session.

“Yeah, they’re Avengers. Keep it together.” Peter tried to hiss subtly under his breath, but it came out rushed and far too loud. Ned quickly let go of Peter, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he backed off to sit on a nearby couch, wiping his hands on his jeans like he was trying to calm himself down.

“H-Hey, I’m Ned Leeds!” he said, giving a nervous wave.

“King T’Challa, 2017.” The king’s voice was steady, but his eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the room. King? Tony thought. What happened to the other one?  

“Is this really necessary?” Loki sighed, his voice dripping with annoyance as he crossed his arms. “Loki. 2017, in your Earth years.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, why is he here? Are Asgard’s prison sentences really this lenient, Pointbreak? Or did he just escape again?” He shot Loki a pointed glare, his arms folded defensively across his chest.

Loki’s eyes narrowed, but he leaned back against the wall, his posture cool and unconcerned. “I’ll have you know I served out my sentence. Under... special circumstances.”

“Oh, special circumstances, my ass!” Tony snapped, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Loki’s lips curled into a smile, but there was a strange quiet in his gaze. “You don’t have to trust me. You don’t even have to believe me. But I haven’t given you a reason to fight me in quite a while. A lot can change in five years.”

“I agree with Loki,” Thor spoke up, his voice calm but firm.

“What! Are you crazy?!” Banner's disbelief was palpable as he shot to his feet, fists clenched. “He nearly destroyed New York and tried to take over our world, and now you’re just going to believe him? Like that?”

Thor’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze steady. “I said I agreed with him. I did not say that I trust him. Trust is earned, but he has made no move to preach his skewed views or attack any of us. I say we can leave him be for now.”

Thor walked toward Loki, the tension between them thick in the air. He met Loki's gaze, unflinching. “But if he tries something…” Thor’s voice hardened. “I will not hesitate to defeat you, brother.”

Loki’s shoulders shifted, and for a moment, his gaze flickered to the floor. “I understand. Though, in all fairness, the scepter they gave me wasn’t exactly great for my mind, nor for anyone else's.”

Clint’s narrowed eyes were the only thing Loki met in response. The room felt a bit colder after his words. 

“Oh wait! I almost forgot a few special someones,” Deadpool chimed in, his voice suddenly chipper.

With no warning, an older man dropped from mid-air, landing flat on his stomach right in front of Loki. He groaned as he slowly got to his feet, his movements stiff and weary. After a quick scan of the room, his gaze locked with Loki’s, and he let out a heavy sigh, tinged with the faintest hint of fondness. “Loki, where are we?” he asked, exasperated.  

“I haven’t the faintest idea where, why, or even who you are,” Loki replied. 

The man examined Loki for a few seconds before a small frown appeared on his face. “Mobius. My name is Mobius.” He extended his hand toward Loki, who took it with a puzzled look.

“You know reindeer games?” Tony asked, his voice laced with a bit of curiosity.

Mobius froze, his eyes wide with panic. He immediately began patting his pockets in a frantic search. “Oh no. Where? What—?” He quickly removed his jacket, rifling through the pockets as if the world depended on it. “No! This could completely ruin the sacred timeline!” He tossed the jacket to the ground in frustration.

“That’s kind of the point of this, Mobius Mobius Mobius,” Deadpool commented with a cheeky grin.

Mobius whipped around, his panic rising. “What?!”

Deadpool smirked. “That’s such a weird name. They could’ve at least been a little more creative. Mobius M. Mobius. Moooooooobiuuuussss…” He drew out the vowels in an exaggerated sing-song tone.

Mobius opened his mouth to protest, but then his voice cut through the air with a sharp edge of desperation. “Enough! What is going on here? Where is my Tempad?!”

“I’ve confiscated it,” Deadpool said casually, hands on his hips. “You can’t use magic here, people. I have plot armor!”

“You took it?” Mobius shrieked, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What are you planning to do with it?”

“Nothing,” Deadpool said nonchalantly, tapping his temple. “You’ll get it back. I already have my own. Those TVA shits are backward. Glad I found a universe where they don’t exist to drop you guys in. Told you, plot armor!” He shrugged dramatically. “Now, here’s special someone number two.”

A woman had exited from a door that seemed to appear and disappear from out of nowhere. She was wearing a long dress that reached the floor. Her golden hair was pulled away from her face in an intricate braid leading up to a bun. 

“Mother!” Thor’s voice rang out as he rushed toward her, his arms open wide.

She welcomed him with equal fervor, enveloping him in a tight hug. But as her gaze swept across the room, she noticed Loki standing off to the side. His eyes were wide, his face pale, and tears quickly welled up.

To her surprise, instead of stepping back, Loki rushed forward, his arms wrapping around her just as tightly. She smiled through the bittersweet moment. “What did I do to deserve such loving boys this fine evening?” She pulled back slightly to look at them, her hands resting on their shoulders, her eyes filled with warmth and affection.

“Just missed you,” Thor and Loki replied simultaneously, their voices soft but heavy with emotion. They both froze for a moment, exchanging a glance of surprise before Thor’s face broke into a wide, genuine smile.

“Name and year Miss Frigga please,” Deadpool asked in a sweet tone. 

Tony, standing just a little further back, raised an eyebrow at Deadpool’s sudden change in tone, but said nothing.

Frigga’s smile softened as she replied, “Freyja Freyrdottir. Frigga shall be fine, though. As for the year, I believe it’s 2014 for Midgard.” She glanced around. “Where is your father? I was told I would be viewing some things…”

Thor’s expression darkened slightly. “He isn’t here.”

Loki frowned from the back of the room, his gaze distant, as if searching for something.

“A pity,” Frigga murmured, then, with a graceful sigh, sat down on a nearby couch.

“I guess it’s my turn,” Pepper said, taking a small breath before continuing. “I am Virginia Potts, 2012. But you can call me Pepper.”

Rhodey looked at her with an eyebrow raised. “Virginia? Really? I’ve never heard you go by that before.” His gaze shifted to Tony with an expression that could only be described as amused annoyance. “You call her Pepper so much, I thought it was her real name.”

Tony shrugged, inspecting the bracers on Rhodey’s legs with mild distraction. “You can’t blame me. Pepper just suits her.”

“I’m James Rhodes, and I’m from 2016,” Rhodey added, his voice still holding a trace of curiosity.

“Sam Wilson, 2014. It’s nice to meet you all,” Sam chimed in, giving a friendly nod.

“Now that that’s all done and over with…” Deadpool jumped in, bouncing on his heels. “Time for the fun stuff: movies and clips!” He clapped his hands together, his voice rising with excitement. “Everyone take a seat because you’ll be here for a while. Don’t even think about escaping because, guess what? I’ve got plot convenience on my side, and all your plans will fail.” He grinned wickedly. “And hey, I’m doing this to help you out anyway, so trying to leave would be pretty dumb.”

Peter tilted his head, a furrow forming on his brow. “Why are you doing this? Aren’t you just looking to hurt us?” he called out, uncertainty in his voice.

Deadpool made an over-exaggerated gasp. “Baby boy! I will never hurt you! I’m showing you the future. Because some bad things happen that really makes me want to unalive some people ,” He dropped his voice deep and startlingly serious for the span of a second before springing back into that unhinged cheer. “And you don’t deserve to go through that, Spidey.” 

Peter’s face paled at the mention of his vigilante persona. 

“Baby boy...?” Tony echoed.

“But why are we here?” MJ gestured to Peter, Ned, and herself. “We aren’t superheroes, and we’re definitely not part of the Avengers in any way.”

“The future is a wonderful thing,” Deadpool said ominously, his voice dripping with mystery. What they didn’t see, though, was Wade winking at Peter through the camera lens, clearly enjoying himself.

“How come Thor gets to keep his hammer?” Rhodey asked with a pointed look, his arms crossed.

“I’m not ‘worthy,’ or some bullshit, so he gets to keep it,” Deadpool shrugged nonchalantly, clearly dismissing the matter.

The screen flickered to life, and everyone scrambled to grab seats. The teenagers claimed an entire row of couches, leaving the adults to awkwardly fill the remaining space. Most of the Avengers clustered together, except for Tony and Steve, who made sure to take seats on opposite sides of the room. Tony sat with Rhodey and Pepper, while Steve ended up with Bucky, and Sam Wilson settled in close by.

Mobius sat with Loki, who found himself unable to escape Thor’s presence. No matter how much Loki tried to distance himself, Thor plopped down next to him. With a resigned sigh, Loki leaned slightly toward Mobius, trying to create a little breathing room between himself and his loud, boisterous brother.

Frigga, calm as always, settled just above them, within arm’s reach, observing the group with a knowing smile.