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Thomas Andre in Marvel

Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this would become his life. He's in another world, gifted with incredible power, and he's getting stronger every day. He's taller than ever and looks nothing like he used to. After 35 years in this world, he's realized one thing: it's all bullshit. Heroic, villainous bullshit. And honestly, these 35 years have been the best. He's finally doing whatever the hell he wants, becoming whoever he wants to be. Maybe it's worth taking Nick Fury up on his offer—just for the fun of it. * * * (A/N) My first work. I'll gladly listen to the criticism. And yeah, It's mostly MCU, with its main events, like first movie and Endgame etc. But some characters, like Spider Man is not the same.

Black_Cyclop · TV
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18 Chs

16. Drink.

Sometimes, people just need a break. To not think about anything, to leave their minds empty, if only for a moment, and to feel a sense of inner peace. It's healthy, it's necessary.

That's exactly what Tony Stark needed right now. He was in Thomas' mansion, sprawled on his colossal couch that felt like lying on a cloud. "I need to find out who made this furniture. Crafting something this huge and yet so soft takes serious skill," Tony remarked, completely relaxed, lying there like a starfish.

Almost everything in this mansion was supersized, except for the guest rooms. Tony felt like a child in a fairy tale who had wandered into a giant's house.

Which, in fact, it was. This giant was 13 feet tall, and next to him, Tony could afford to relax, have a heart-to-heart talk, and share a drink. Right now, this giant was seated across from him. "They're not cheap, though," Thomas mentioned.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "I'd charge a lot too, for a piece of furniture that has to hold 780 pounds...holy, lose some weight."

Thomas chuckled. "I'll think about it. Jocasta," he called to his assistant.

"Yes, boss?"

"Drinks, please."

"Sending."

As the mugs of drinks were loaded onto a small robot on wheels, Thomas leaned back in his chair, relaxing with his friend. His shirt was unbuttoned, and instead of his usual white pants, he wore shorts and was barefoot. Maybe tonight, he'd finally get a full night's sleep.

"Am I a bad person?" Tony asked, putting his hands behind his head as he lay back.

Thomas lifted himself up slightly. Tony had brought up the whole Obadiah situation—who, by the way, should be on his way to the Cube right now. His ultimate fate would be Tony's to decide. Though if it were up to Thomas, Obadiah would pay dearly, as punishment should always fit the crime. Thomas believed in this rule fervently; you can't grant freedom to those maniacs who kill for pleasure.

This latest murder attempt had made Tony introspective, questioning himself, perhaps on a path to becoming a better man. Thomas wanted to help. He looked at Tony lying there, staring at the ceiling, not yet ready to make eye contact. Understanding this, Thomas took a breath and leaned back in his chair again.

"I'm not a philosopher or a writer." Thomas said calmly, hearing the robot approaching with the drinks. He dug into his memories, wanting to respond not as a hero, but as a man who had lived one life and was now living a second. His first life hadn't been as action-packed as this one, but it had its share of hardships. "You ain't bad, Tony."

Tony lifted himself into a sitting position on the enormous couch, finally turning to face Thomas. Thomas continued, "You have your faults...But everyone has their flaws; no one is perfect. You're getting better. You invented that suit for a noble cause."

"And doesn't that show you're a kind man? I've known you a long time, and the Tony of years ago is not the same as the Tony of today. You've gotten smarter, wiser, kinder," Thomas said sincerely. He had met Tony when he was still young, depressed, and drunk, having somehow stumbled to the back of the state. Tony was capable of stupider things when drunk. As fate would have it, Thomas was training nearby at the time. One thing led to another, and they crossed paths.

Back then, young Tony was a narcissist, incredibly nervous, and impulsive enough to put Andre himself to shame. But over time, Thomas had grown attached to Tony—a man who was once fictional to him. Sometimes, Thomas still couldn't believe this was all happening.

"And I know what you're thinking, so I'll tell you the truth. Listen to me, Tony. No, you don't deserve to die." Thomas lifted his head, locking eyes with Tony, who was holding a glass. Thomas saw the weariness in those eyes, but now there was a new light.

"Thank you," Tony said with a smile, taking a loud slurp of his milkshake through the straw. "Needed that. You're as wise as an old man in that regard."

Goliath smiled, reaching for his huge mug. Technically, Tony was right. "Hehehe, with weekdays like mine, you learn a lot."

"Well, that's what we'll be doing. Gotta teach me stuff."

"Hm?"

"Yep, let's do your classic patrolling. You know, this whole thing you're doing is taking the cops out of their jobs. Add to that these street heroes. You see them, this Spider-Man—his suit's got plates like your armor. The guy's trying to copy them."

"And I like his solution, Bwahahahahaha!" Thomas laughed, taking a sip of his cocktail and slapping his hand on the armrest. He really liked the costume Spider-Man made. Unlike the original suit, this one was like elastic armor, and the gauntlet was almost exactly like his, but sleeker. Thomas had no idea what these parts were made of, but he had a passionate desire to make improvements to this suit. Tony would be delighted. "Might as well get a rookie on patrol, too. Imagine," placing the mug on the tray of the robot that was now serving as a table, Thomas spread his arms wide, "Goliath, Iron Man, and Spider-Man on patrol."

"PFF," Tony dismissed, "Now that you're the one who said it, not many people are going to care about the two new heroes next to 'the great Goliath.'" He made invisible quotation marks in the air with his fingers, indicating that the name Goliath would completely overshadow them.

"Wait, wait, wait, more like the opposite. It will draw instant attention. Imagine the headlines. Journalists will be looking for information about you, and it will raise the public's interest in you. I'd be attracted to that; that armor's a treat for the eyes."

"You know, it makes sense. Heh, let's see what we can do," Tony agreed, smiling. "I guess I'll have to borrow Jocasta from you then."

"Hmm?"

"For the data transfer. You see, Jocasta is not Jarvis. They're AI, which means they're learning. If Jarvis is domestic and more of a butler, then Jocasta is more of a combat AI," Tony clarified.

"I think I know what you mean, but go on."

"Since Jocasta is in your visor, she records all of your fights and your opponents' movements, thus analyzing them. This data will be extremely useful."

Thomas gave a thumbs-up. "Good idea. We'll have to do some training as well. On the lower floors, the training room you created is amazing."

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[ A/N: I'm back. I apologize for being gone so long, was in a car crash, nothing serious, but I wasn't in the mood for writing or anything. Tried to get my inspiration back, and somehow wrote this chapter. I apologize if it's trashy, it's my best for now. I wanted to show Tony and Andre's relationship a little better, that they're both more free around each other.

That's it for now. Hugs to everyone, take care.

And of course, bro fist 😎👊]