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Requested by Anonymous on tumblr :)
Everything had been different since Loki had been banished to Midgard as punishment for his crimes. It was Thor's insistence that his brother not be imprisoned, much to the chagrin of Nick Fury, but instead be kept under house arrest at the Avengers Tower until such time he was trusted to be left alone. Honestly, he hadn't expected to survive the week after what he had done, let along five whole years.
And in those years, so much had changed.
Relationships had been formed; families had been created. Although Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov had been obvious to him, he was admittedly surprised by the unexpected union of Steve Rogers and Tony Stark. Their fights were almost everyday events within the walls of the Tower, but, according to Bruce, that was a sign of sexual tension on Earth. Perhaps the strangest change was to him.
The last thing Loki had expected was to grow fond of a human. Rosetta worked at S.H.I.E.L.D as a Co-ordinator. Nothing directly involved with the front lines, but she was part of the team assigned to guard and assess him during the first few months of his imprisonment. She had surprised him, he guessed, but still that didn't explain how she ended up the mother of his children.
Although, come to think of it, he'd been wondering that a lot recently. Especially now, as he stood awkwardly in the centre of main room, five pairs of little eyes staring up at him curiously.
When Doom bots had been released on downtown Manhattan, it was only natural that the Avengers get called in to protect the city. Darcy and Rosetta, of course, were asked to join the co-ordinating of the fight, as it said in their contracts. However, with Jane completely absorbed by her research into another way of travelling between worlds, rather than the bi-frost, that left only him and the voice within the walls, that Tony called JARVIS, to watch the brood of children that seemed to be expanding every year.
The eldest was his own son, Sleipnir, or Sep as his mother calls him. He was almost identical to his father, with the same sharp features and dark hair, but had his mother's murky green eyes. The five year old had been an unexpected surprise, and even more so when it was discovered he had inherited his father's magical abilities. He was particularly fond of taking the form of a six-legged horse for unknown reasons.
At four, Charley Banner had inherited her father's intelligence and ability to understand subjects that most adults were incapable of. It was already clear she was going to become her father's little lab assistant when she was old enough to reach the top shelf without needing a stool. She did resemble her mother though, with the same curly brown hair that seemed completely untameable in the mornings, and wide hazel eyes.
Peter was next in age, about a month away from his fourth birthday. He had been adopted by Steve and Tony when he could barely talk and he official became a Stark-Rogers a few days after his second birthday. Although he wasn't biologically related, it was obvious who his fathers' were. He was like an uncontrollable ball of energy, who loved nothing more than to babble nonsense at you for hours as long as you encouraged it, which was the preferred alternative to his new found skill of hanging upside down from the ceiling.
Ronan was Clint and Natasha's son, who was never seen without his plastic bow and arrow, which in any other situation, would be considered strange behaviour for a three year old to have. With all due respect, he was a little demon and seemed to enjoy nothing more than causing trouble, with a gleeful smile and a high pitched giggle. Of course, he was an angel with everyone, except him, of course. In fact, he was absolutely certain that the kid was already planning a way of driving him crazy before his parents get home. Luckily, he shared an unusual friendship with his youngest son, Fenrir, and just one disappointed look seemed to convince him to stop.
Fen was almost the opposite of his elder brother, with wild blond hair and wide blue eyes. He was mostly quiet and it's rare that he isn't attached to Rosetta's hip – not that she does anything to discourage him, of course – Rosetta had let him sleep at the end of their bed for nearly ten months after his first nightmare, curled up in his wolf form, his preferred shape. It still perplexes Loki how his son could have such a close relationship with the redheaded devil child, but he didn't question it.
The youngest, of course, was his niece, Elisa, not even a year old yet. The babe was slumbering contently in a travel cot in a corner of the room, chubby cheeks tilted to press against her shoulder. Already it could be seen that she was going grow up to be a little version of her mother, but with the power of thunder in her eyes.
This unusual feeling of helplessness welled up within him. He was at a lost of what to do. He loved his sons, of course he did, but he couldn't remember the last time it had just been him and them, father and sons, bonding, without Rosette being right there. And now, it was just him and six children.
And it took all of three seconds before chaos broke out.
Fenrir grabbed his brother's toy horse – apparently from something called 'Toy Story' – and bolted away, shouting his claim over the plastic for now. Of course, Sleipnir wasn't going to stand for that. In a matter of seconds, he had transformed into a horse and was charging after his younger brother, smoking seeming to billow behind him. Fenrir squeaked in surprise and shifted into a wolf, the toy held possessively between his sharp teeth, to gain more speed. Ronan seemed to object to the idea of his best friend being chased, and was trying to help by shooting an endless number of suction-cup arrows in the vain attempt to stop the pursue.
"Leave Fen-r alone!" he bellowed protectively.
Peter had taken to scaling the walls, crawling on his hands and feet first before showing off his discovered abilities. With his feet firmly planted on the ceiling, he waved violently and excitedly at Loki, trying to get his attention.
"Unc' Loki! Look at me, Unc' Loki!" he exclaimed.
Charley had positioned herself in the middle of the room, seeming unconcerned by the two brother's running around her. She carefully selected the colour crayon she wanted to use, mumbling her actions to herself – "And the clouds should be…green, like Daddy," – as she drew happily across the paper, which he was certain was some clinical notes Dr. Banner had been reading before they were called in, that she had spread out in front of her for her use. She kicked her legs to an unknown beat, and hummed loudly to herself, probably another folk tune that Darcy had taught her.
Loki watched the mess forming around him, at a loss of what to do next. How could he possibly control this reckless brood, offspring of superheroes? He may be the God of Mischief, but there was only so much he could do. Sudden flashes of being tied to the armchair, completely at the mercy of toddler's, brought shivers to his skin. Yes, he definitely had to find a way to gather some more control.
At least Elisa's asleep… he reminded himself, relieved.
Freezing, he glanced at the slumbering baby. She shifted ever so slightly in her bed, but didn't wake up. But it was only a matter of time. It was too loud; there were too many children. As much as she was Daughter of Thor, neither of them would be able to sleep through the combined noise effort of five toddlers. Her eyelids fluttered and a frown crossed her lips.
The volume seemed to increase dramatically, every decibel resounding against his skull. He watched as the child's eyes blinked open and her bottom lip wobbled in frustration.
Her cry pierced the room at the same time Loki's control snapped.
"QUIET!" he ordered, his voice deepening.
The five toddlers's stilled, eyes wide and seemingly unable to move – or many they didn't dare to – as Loki swept across the expanse of the room and swept his distressed niece into his arms. She fell into a well rehearsed position, supported by her bottom and at the back of her head, her cries muffled into his black shirt. He bounced her gently, speaking soothingly under his breath. For a moment, he had the panicked thought that it wouldn't work, but eventually, her full out wails seemed to decrease into quieter whimpers. It was at this point he raised his gaze to narrow on the older faces.
"Fenrir, give Sleipnir back his toy. If you wanted to borrow it, you should ask your brother's permission. Sleipnir, I'm sure your mother has told you that you need to learn to share – and transforming into a horse doesn't solve all your problems," Loki started, his voice calm and firm, leaving no room for argument. "Ronan, if you don't stop shooting arrows at my son, I will take them away from you. Peter, get off the ceiling – you know well enough that your fathers' have banned you from doing that in case you damage yourself, and those rules stand whether they are here or not. Charley, you know better than to draw on Dr. Banner's notes – and cloud's are not green on Midgard, child, I am not sure where you get these ideas from."
He watched carefully as Fenrir reluctantly handed back his brother's toy; as Ronan moved around the room to collect his arrows, before leaving both the bow and quiver leaning against the cot; as Peter carefully climbed down from the ceiling and stood rather subdued, his head bowed; as Charley packed away her crayons and tidied up her father's papers, an ashamed look on her face. Then they stopped, crowded together, and looked up at him expectantly. He nodded his approval.
"Good. Now maybe there is a task we could do that involves the production of less noise," he suggested.
Sleipnir seemed to brighten up as a thought hit him. "Daddy, could you tell us a story?"
Fenrir stepped to his brother's side, nodding excitedly. "Yeah Daddy, like our bedtime stories, for As'ard."
"Asgard," Loki corrected automatically, "Hmm, storytelling does seem a lot quieter than the previous ideas you children have had. Of course, son, I may tell you a story."
He took a seat on the large sofa, cradling a now alert Elisa in his arms. The toddler's scurried to his side, wiggling into comfortable positions. Small bodies surrounding him from all sides, and eyes staring up at him expectantly, he thought deeply about which tale he should tell. There were many from his childhood that he remembered vividly, and he wondered whether they were stories that other Midgardians were told growing up too.
"Can you tell us the one about the sun and the moon?" Fenrir asked happily.
"Do you mean, 'East of the Sun and West of the Moon'?" Loki arched an eyebrow. "Very well then, if that is the tale you enjoy." He took a moment to recall the flow of the story, before he began to speak once more:
"In a time long before you or I were born, there was once a bear and he lived in a distant land, much to far for us to travel. To all who knew him, he was called the White Bear, as he had no other name…"
Darcy hesitated at the doorway to the residential floors of Avenger's Tower, her hand hovering over the door handle. She bit her bottom lip worriedly.
Confused, Bruce placed his hand on his wives back. "Is something wrong?"
"No, I'm just wondering…do we actually want to go in there?" she questioned, "We left Loki, alone, with five hyperactive toddlers and a baby that's not even one yet. How much of a mess are we expecting to find?"
"Room covered in arrows," Natasha commented, tilting her head to the side.
"Drawings all up my walls," Tony added.
"Peter on the ceiling, again," Steve announced dryly.
"My boys arguing," Rosette finished.
"My brother struggling to hold onto his control," Thor offered.
"Well, as long as we're all prepared for the worst," Darcy shrugged, before fully pushing the door open and entered into what they expected to be like a war zone.
Only it wasn't. There wasn't toy lying about, or the loud noise of children playing, fighting and crying. There were no spills or crumbs on the woodwork. It was…strange. Concern rising, thoughts swirling about what could have possibly happened while they were away, the parents made their way into the living room, and their shoulder's sagged in relief.
"Now that, I was not expecting," Clint admitted amused, putting a gloved hand over his mouth to muffle a snigger.
"Maybe our kids have been replaced by pod people?" Tony suggested, his eyes fully trained on the sight in front of him.
"I wish I had my camera," Rosetta sighed disappointedly.
"Already way a head of you," Darcy grinned, snapping a few pictures on her new Starkphone, "This is so becoming my screensaver."
"And we were worried," Steve reminded, mirth in his voice.
On the large sofa, in direct view of the hallway, Loki and the children had fallen asleep. Loki was in the centre, protectively holding Elisa to one side of his chest, the fabric of his shirt grasped in her tiny hands. Fenrir was on his other side, snuffling in his sleep, his thumb in his mouth. Ronan was beside him, his head resting comfortably on his friend's lap and his legs were laid out across Sleipnir's thighs. Peter's head had disappeared behind Loki's bent arm, his face pressed against his shoulder blade and Charley had turned to hide her face against the younger boy's chest, hand clutching his shirt.
"My brother apparently has hidden powers he did not tell me about," Thor commented, looking a little surprised by the turn of events. "He must teach me this wondrous skill!"
"He has to teach all of us," Bruce agreed, a thoughtful look at his daughter.
"We should get them to bed," Natasha stated.
"Awh, it seems like a shame to wake them up," Clint grumbled, but approached to carefully pick his son up. The little boy jerked slightly, like he was prepared to fight against the sudden movement, but he relaxed instantly at the sound of his father's voice.
Darcy moved to gently shake her daughter's shoulder, listening to soft meowing she releases as she wakes. "Come on sweetie, let's get you to bed."
"Is everyone okay?" she questioned sleepily.
"We're all perfect, Charley," Bruce assured, a fond smile in place, as he took the four year old softly into his hold when Darcy passed her over. Charley pressed her face against her daddy's chest, breathing in the familiar smell, before dropping back off to sleep.
Peter reached out blindly, feeling uncoordinated by the lack of body heat pressed against his front. It was Tony that got there first, carefully lifting the boy from the sofa. Automatically, his head fell into position against the arc reactor, ear pressed to the metal so he could hear the soothing hum.
"Come on, little spider, let's get you to bed," Tony whispered.
Thor reached out to take Elisa from his brother's arms. The sudden change of pressure jerked Loki awake, his body tensing in preparation to fight. He slowly relaxed when his brother smiled widely at him. "You did well brother, not every warrior possess this skill," he complimented, before disappearing after the others down the long corridor.
Rosette smiled in greeting at her husband, bending down to press a kiss to his lips. "How was your night?" she asked.
"Sleipnir and Fenrir wanted to hear a story," Loki responded, his voice croaky with sleep. "How was your mission?"
"Nothing too hard, but then again, Doom bots never seem to be," she waved him off. "We can talk about that in the morning. For now, I need to get my boys' to sleep."
She lifted Sleipnir into her arms, the boy clinging to his mother in his sleep. She pressed a kiss to the crown of his head and watched as Loki stood up, shifting Fenrir so he was held over his shoulder. The boy's hands clung to the back of his shirt but like his brother, did not wake.
"Can I put forward one suggestion before bed?" Loki wondered.
"I'll allow it," Rosette smirked.
"Never leave me alone with those children again,"
If you have any prompts for Avengers stories, anything you want to see in print, I am open for requests. You can either send me a private message on here, or leave me a message on my tumblr: WhatIMustWrite