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beyondflashpoint · 4 years

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Prologue 2: Homeward Bound :

“I don’t understand the detour, Todd. We could have made port directly in Gotham bay and gone directly to father. Your palaver with the addict in Steel city cost us days. Hours at best.”

Jason rolled his eyes. He could sense the kid’s unease even without glancing at him in the rearview. A slight vocalization from the passenger seat indicated that Cassie agreed with the kid.

“First, the ‘addict’ has a name. Roy is an old friend. Second, that pal-whatever got us this car, so we aren’t walking. Third, the League would be expecting us to make landfall in Gotham, and I feel like an extended ninja fight would waste more time than my plan and also draw a lot more unwanted attention. Relax Damian. We’ll have you playing catch with daddy-dearest soon enough.”

“Smart.” Cassie said from beside him, her voice low and gravely from underuse. He couldn’t be sure, but Jason thought she sounded surprised. At least she was talking now, even if it was only one or two words every few days. The constant charades made his head hurt.

Damian clicked his tongue in that annoying way he did and prepared to retort, but Jason nipped that in the bud.

“Bruce has a bunker in Blüdhaven where we can swipe some equipment and feel out the situation in Gotham. According to Roy, Lady Shiva has been spotted in G-town, and there haven’t been any killings that fit her m.o., so it’s safe to assume the League dispatched her to catch us. So caution is the word.”

Cassie shifted uncomfortably at her mother’s name. They had never been close, but they had left things especially messy, as in duel to the death, excommunication messy. Shiva would kill Cassie on sight, and Jason probably not long after. Returning Damian al’Ghul to the Demon’s side was priority one. If he had to guess, Shiva would have deployed with a full attachment, foot soldiers and four other heavy hitters. A full Demon’s Fist, as the League called it. That could be very bad for G-town. Jason was by no means eager to put on tights again, but Bruce’s uniforms offered much better protection than swiped tourist threads, and he needed all the extra time he could get to figure out exactly how this reunion was going to go.

‘Hi Bruce, I’m not dead anymore. Ras dunked me in the Lazarus Pit. Also, I kinda kidnapped your son from Talia because Ras was planning on having him kill you. Also, you have a son. In case you didn’t know. Also this is Lady Shiva’s daughter, but she’s cool. She kicks ass and has decided to leave the League. Also the League is after us.’

Bruce would have a stroke. Maybe he should lead with the son thing.

Jason merged as they approached the exit he wanted.

Come to think of it, there were probably a few of his old friends running the streets of his old stomping grounds. Probably most of them were dead or incarcerated, but one or two of them had to be out and about. He could use eyes on the streets, and slum kids saw things that even the big bad bat didn’t. He’d look into it.

Five years changed things. Roy was a big indication of that. Before Jason’s temporary vacation from the mortal coil, Roy Harper had been a Titan, and Jason’s top guy in the team. Finding out that he’d dropped the mask game had been shocking enough, but the fact that he had been hooked on H AND working out rehab really opened his eyes. Roy had stayed in touch with Dick, as an unofficial sponsor, but he’d completely cut off Olly and the rest of the Star City crew. And now he was running a garage, just a few hours out of the Haven. Jason shuddered to think how the Batfam had changed. And now that he thought about it, five years may as well be fifty on the streets, especially in the Haven.

When Bruce had taken him in, the Red Hood gang had mostly run the Haven, and the less formal Hoodz had sprung up to replace the smaller crews and cliques that permeated Blüdhaven. Time served with the Hoodz could lead to an opportunity at the big leagues with the real Red Hood Gang. That had been Jason’s plan, which had put him in the alley where the batmobile had been parked, which had made him hungry enough for the cred that would come from boosting the tires from the Bat’s whip, which had led him to getting caught by the big bad bat, yadda-yadda, Robin, mother, Clown, crowbar.

But the Hoodz had already been on their way out even back then, with the Black Mask Gang snatching turf on the outskirts. Jason couldn’t begin to imagine who was running the Haven now.

They rode in silence until Jason finally parked in the alley. The sharpness and clarity of memory had to be a result of his dip in the pit. He’d only been to this bunker once, and it had been in the frantic haze of searching for his mother, the first stop on his way out of Gotham for the last time in his old life. Now it was his last stop on his way back to Gotham for the first time in his new life. Ka is a wheel, to quote Mr Stephen King.

He shook these thoughts off as he scanned the street, making sure their entry would go unnoticed, then opened the secret panel and typed the old code into the hidden keypad. The section of wall slid back, and opened to a flight of stairs and the blessed buzz of ac.

“Alright gang, to the bat-bunker.”

He started in without waiting for a reply. Lights buzzed to life as the trio descended the steps and were deposited into the armory. According to Roy, Dick had lived here until he’d gotten on his feet after splitting from Bruce. He still used it as a backup base/crash pad, and Jason could tell from the ratty couch and scattering of clothes. But Grayson was running with Titans 3.0 at the moment, looking into the evil tech dealer called H.I.V.E. so they would have the run of the place for now.

True to fashion, though Dick’s personal possessions were a mess, the armory itself was perfectly organized and orderly. Jason could barely suppress a scoff at the tube containing one of Barbara’s spare batsuits. Vintage black and yellow. He always suspected the two were hooking up. He and Dick didn’t agree on much, but both were of one mind when it came to red heads in tights. It was a shame Roy had let himself go recently. Before he could get too lost in that thought, he realized Damian and Cassandra were both staring at him expectantly.

“Right. We have a few hours of daylight left. I don’t want to move on Gotham till nightfall. Till then, I want you two taking inventory of the gear we have available to us. While you do that, I’ll grab us some food, and scope out the situation street side.”

“If I never have to eat any more of that greasy slop you call fast food, it will be too soon.” Damian said as he made close study of a wall of weapons Grayson had no doubt thought were cool as hell.

“Now you listen here, boy. Big Belly Burger is a staple of American fine dining, and I will not have you blaspheme against it like that in my presence. Besides, you and Cassie order and eat twice as much as I do every time we stop there.”

“TT.”

Cassandra grabbed his shoulder and shared a look that said her next words would be of the utmost importance.

“Milkshake. Strawberry.” She managed without any of the usual false starts.

“Actually, since we’re in the Haven, I thought I’d treat you two to the height of fine dining. Bibbo’s Diner is only a few blocks from here, and you haven’t lived until you’ve had his chicken and waffles.”

Alarm flashed in Cassandra’s eyes, but before it could settle, Jason reassured her.

“And Bibbo’s happens to be the home of the world famous Robin shake. Strawberry, chocolate and banana. It’ll be right up your alley Cassie. And their homemade peach cobbler is out of this world.”

She looked as if she was about to argue, then considered, and acquiesced, lulled into acceptance by the promise of a new sweet treat. The poor girl had been practically made to starve as part of her training. Combined with the laundry list of other abuses she’d faced, Jason had no problem shelling out the extra cash to keep her quickly developing sweet tooth satisfied. Besides, it wasn’t really his money.

It had been quite the adventure so far, and while Bruce would halve balked at Jason’s decision to loot scumbags they’d encountered along the six month journey from Nanda Parbat, Damian and Cassandra saw the necessity of it. Jason had found his people.

“Pull that suit on under your clothes Cass, it’s Kevlar microfiber woven over a layer of high density impact gel. Might not look like it, but it can stop a bullet. There might be an old Robin suit around here somewhere. You’ll know it if you see it. That might fit Damian. Gear up, stretch out, and be ready to move as soon as I get back. If something goes down while I’m gone, find the tallest building in town and wait for me on the roof.” As he talked, he scooped up a spare utility belt from the shelves and clipped it on his waist. A cursory search rewarded him with a tank top sporting the blue bird Dick used as a logo these days (because of corse Dick fucking Grayson bought his own merch), a flannel Jason could tie around his hips to hide the belt, a Gotham Knights cap, and a wad of cash Dick no doubt kept for emergencies.

This qualified, Jason rationalized as he stuffed the bills into a pouch on his belt. Satisfied with his civilian disguise, Jason returned his focus to the duo studying the tools laid out before them. Damian had slipped a samurai sword into his belt at some point and was now testing the weight of the stylized throwing stars (Wingdings?) laid out on the shelves. Cassandra was running through forms with a pair of batons, and was mildly startled by the arc of electricity that cracked between them when she happened upon the triggers. Shock turned to awe, turned to a pleased smirk. They’d be fine for a few hours. Probably.

He tried not to think too hard about the many ways they could kill, explode, or otherwise maim each other in his absence.

They’d be fine.

It took him an hour of scoping the usual hangs to get anything useful. The Row kids had relocated to an orphanage in G-town. The Brown girl and the kid that followed her like a lost puppy were m.i.a., Rome was in Blackgate, Garcia was dead, Diego dead, Carter dead, Crock m.i.a., Philippe jail, Jessie jail, dead, jail, jail, jail, dead, dead, Morales was working the youth center after a stint in Blackgate, which was good to hear. Finally he happened upon a decent lead, almost by accident.

One of his old crew from the Hoodz days was still out and about, and running a little cluster of the Hoodz.

Jason entered the ratty apartment Sasha shared with her father Nico though the fire escape. It was just as messy as he remembered. On the table beside the couch was a glass bowl, packed but untouched. It was tempting, but Jason hadn’t gotten high since his Robin days. The siren song of the crumpled pack of full flavored cigarettes, however, was irresistible. He plucked one free and lit it as he dropped into the tattered leather recliner across from the couch where Sasha snoozed. That first draw was harsh, and started him coughing. Five years had robbed him of his experienced smoker status.

Sasha groaned groggily, stirred by his hacking and sat up slowly, blindly groping for a cig herself.

“Told you to stop snatching my smokes if you can’t handle ‘em old man.” She chastised drowsily.

“Just out of practice Sash. Haven’t had one since the last time we talked.”

It took a moment for the strange voice to register, but when it did, her hand flew under her pillow. Before it came back out, Jason freed a birdarang (wingding?) and sent the glock flying.

“Fuck!”

“Shit, Sash, you pack now? I must’a missed a lot.”

Her eyes darted from her hand, which would be bruised for the next few days, and Jason, who chanced a longer drag from the stolen cigarette and pulled off his hat. This one went down smoothly.

“Jay-bird?” She stuttered as the pieces came together. Even without the shoot of white hair and the scars crisscrossing his face, five years was a lot of growing room.

“Nah. Nah, man. You died.” He leaned over the table, plucked another cig from the pack and offered it to her. She took it and let him light it.

“Didn’t take.”

“Dude, you definitely died. Me and the crew crashed the funeral, had to cause daddy Warbucks wouldn’t let no street rats in. News said you bought it in a skiing accident in the Alps or some shit.”

“I ain’t here for that Sash. I just want some info.”

She dropped the cigarette half smoked into an open beer can, opting to wake-and-bake instead. Jason couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t often you woke up to a ghost chilling in your living room. She took a few hits and offered him the pipe and lighter.

“Another time Sash. I got shit to do.”

“Right, and you need little Sasha to tell you what’s what. But little Sasha wants some info too, Jay-bird. Like where you been for five, and why you look like rough road.”

“I got blown up, and ninja’s in the Middle East brought me back to life and taught me ninja shit. My turn. Anyone strange running jobs in the Haven, or is it all Loco shit?”

“Hold up, ninjas? The fuck man?”

“Sash.” She hesitated, then took another hit from the bowl.

“Okay. Since you been gone, the Hoodz and the Black Masks called a truce to push out the Riddler gang. Falcone’s kid made a comeback, and is trying to take the whole Haven. Masks and Hoodz are gonna push him out too. His boys mostly run the Narrows. Then there’s this new guy my dad is running supplies for. Very strange. Outsider type. Fuckin spooky. He wears a pig mask and steals kids. The Masks are scared he’s gonna bring the Bat down on us. I’m not gonna lie, I kinda hope the Bat does come for him. I only seen him once and he freaked me out. Lucky you dropped in when you did. Dad’s talking about splitting soon. He don’t like Pig-face either.”

Jason listened intently. By the time she’d finished talking, he’d finished his cigarette. Paying attention was hard in that woozy high that came from the sudden influx of nicotine, but he’d gathered what he needed. The League wasn’t moving in Blüdhaven.

“You filled out good Jay-bird. I’d almost believe you were hanging with ninjas.”

Jarred from his thoughts, Jason stood, swiping another cigarette from the pack.

“I’d get out of town if I were you Sash. And out of gang-life.” He paused and scooped up the stylized ski-mask that marked members of the Hoodz. “I’d rather not have to crash your funeral.” She watched him make his way to the window, but said nothing.

With daylight to burn, Jason began his trek back to the bunker, taking a detour by Bibbo’s to acquire the promised delicacies.

He was not prepared for what his triumphant return to the bunker brought him.

Silence hung eerily over the now dark headquarters. The space had been tidied thoroughly, Dick’s discarded clothing organized, folded, and neatly stacked. Pinned to the chair in front of the large Bat Computer doppelgänger with a batarang (wingding?) was a note written in neat, curling scrawl which Jason instantly recognized as belonging to Damian.

“Todd,

In your absence I have determined that your course of action is actually strategically sound. After overcoming the computer’s laughable attempt at security, I have ascertained that there is a criminal element operating in this city which might draw,” the word father was struck through with two neat lines, “Batman, and potentially ruin any attempt at stealth. I believe we must handle the meeting between ourselves and Batman delicately, and on our own terms. Because of this I have determined the best course of action is to deal with this so-called ‘Professor Pyg’ with haste.

Should you return before we have settled matters, and wish to join us on this mission, you may find all the relevant information pertaining to Pyg (alias to one Lazlo Valentin) by pressing the large rectangular key which reads enter. I’m sure Cain and I would benefit from your expertises in these matters.”

Jason hadn’t believed it was possible to convey sarcasm through the written word. Until today.

“Ps. If you are determined to acquire sustenance before returning, I still do not like ketchup. Mushrooms are okay. Cain requests extra fries.

Pps. In keeping with the traditions laid out in your tales of the Batman’s adventures, Cain and I have decided to wear masks. If you do decide to join us, you might not recognize us, but we have agreed not to harm you.

Sincerely,

Damian al’Ghul, Grandson of the Demon, Heir to the Demon’s Head.”

Jason crumpled the note. The Batgirl uniform was gone, as well as a reasonable chunk of the armory. He’d have to move quickly.

The decision to pursue and subdue Valentin had been mostly motivated by three things. The first he had laid out in his letter to Todd. The second he had shared with Cain, boredom. The third he would reveal to no one, on pain of death. In the years since he had regained his memory, Todd had recounted every story he knew pertaining to Batman. Those stories had motivated him to come to Gotham and meet his father, leaving behind his mother and grandfather, possibly abandoning his great destiny. Those stories had told him more about his father as a man than his mother or grandfather ever had. They painted Bruce Wayne as a titan among men, a pillar of strength and will, and a paragon of virtue and honor. In all honesty, Damian was intimidated by that man. But he was also inspired. The third reason he had decided to pursue and subdue Valentin was to feel connected with his father.

Locating “Pyg” was a simple enough matter. First he plotted out all of the kidnappings that matched Pyg’s M.O. it would seem that Batman had been keeping an eye on Pyg, because he was the chief suspect in the manufacture and distribution of a drug gangs were using to pacify prostitutes. But he’d overlooked the kidnappings. By mapping those, cross referencing places that stored or manufactured components for the drug, Damian was able to triangulate possible hideouts this Pyg could be using. Of the three possibilities, only one was currently unused, an so Damian had settled on the abandoned theme park, ignoring how horribly cliched it was.

Cain had followed Todd’s instructions and donned the Batgirl uniform, but had decided against layering civilian clothes over it. He couldn’t blame her, with the summer heat stifling as it was. Damian had opted for the League’s stealth uniform which he’d carried across half the world. Then the two had gone at the veritable armory like children in a candy shop. Few of Todd’s stories included Grayson, and those that did made him out to be asinine and annoying. But his selection of toys was impressive by all accounts. Smoke bombs, flash-bangs, teargas, plastic explosives, acetylene torches, inferred flashlights, air powered line launchers, and many of the oddly shaped throwing stars Todd had called “batarangs.” The belts which Damian had crisscrossed his chest like bandoliers were jam packed with more of these tools than Damian had imagined was possible, as well as a first-aid kit and handcuffs.

Once they were outfitted and armed, Damian led them to the car Todd had conned out of the addict. The drive to their location was in silence, both mentally preparing for whatever they might encounter along the way. They passed the location several times, marking potential hiding places, paths of retreat and places that could host an ambush.

Once Damian was satisfied he parked the car a block away and they took to the rooftops to preform reconnaissance from above. The park was dilapidated, derelict, and most likely overflowing with vermin. But for the most part it seemed structurally sound. After brief deliberation, the duo decided they were adequately prepared for whatever they may encounter, and thus began their assault.

There is an old proverb that Damian would often think back on when remembering this first act of vigilantism.

“Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.”

He thought he was ready for anything, but he was wrong.

Dick Grayson had apparently undergone a biker phase, which was good for Jason, because Roy’s car was gone. The modified superbike flew through the streets and cut between traffic like a dream. Jason had intended to return everything he’d stolen from Dick, but with every hairpin turn he grew more and more inclined to keep the bike. And maybe the jacket too. It matched the mask he’d swiped from Sash. And it was way too badass for Richard John Grayson.

He’d rushed out of the bunker with a stomach full of rage and fear, blended poorly so an acrid burn stung at the back of his throat. He imagined this was how Bruce must have felt every time he did something reckless. The dynamic dumbasses hadn’t even taken communicators with them.

He briefly wished he’d inventoried his belt before stepping out, but Dick had always been anal about his gear. So had he, now that he though about it. Bruce had drilled him on it relentlessly, having him empty and refill his belt over and over for hours until Jason knew exactly how much of what was in each pouch, and could find anything blindfolded or in the heat of battle. Thinking about it brought back the sharpened calm that came with patrols and missions. It was like the emotions were compressed and pushed back into a compartment on his brain’s utility belt. Not gone, just stored away. He twisted the throttle as far as it would go.

Once upon a time, he’d have cased the joint before getting close. Once upon a time, he’d have come from above, all stealth and shadows, and only dropped in once he had a clear vision of what was happening inside. Today he barreled through a hole in the fence at almost two hundred miles per hour with the engine screaming and fishtailed to a stop as close to the park’s rotting funhouse as he could without transforming himself into a pancake.

Kickstand dropped, and feet pounded against dry rotted wood. Jason had almost made it to the door before his ears registered the sounds of a struggle from within. He cursed his favorite curse as he filled his hand with smoke pellets and prepared to join the fray. With his free hand he pulled the line-launcher and took aim. He was topside in a heartbeat, and could practically hear the cape flutter that would have accompanied the motion in his Robin days. With practiced proficiency he located a skylight and paused to survey the scene from above.

Damian and Cass were surrounded. As if that wasn’t bad enough, their attackers were the aforementioned legion of League foot soldiers Jason had been eager to avoid. They seemed to be holding their own well enough for now, but outside their field of view Shiva was preparing to join the battle. Also moving in were the rest of the Demon’s Fist. Bronze Tiger, Cheshire, Ubu, and Mara al’Ghul. Things were well on their way to getting messy. Jason cursed again. Ubu was the meanest and the ugliest. Also the closest.

“Fuck it. Prison rules.”

He tossed the fistful I’d smoke pellets and dropped in as the cloud spread over the crowd.

Ubu was a hulking brute, and made a piss poor cushion, but he was a big enough target that Jason had no fear of missing. The sound the giant’s head made when Jason’s knee made contact with it was something like a watermelon falling off a truck at fifty, and was nostalgically comedic combined with the guttural grunt he released before flopping onto the floor like a sack of potatoes. But Jason couldn’t say if he laughed or not. All of his attention was on hurling wingdings (wingdings) into the smoke at the predicted positions of his foes. There were more than a few grunts, and a couple of clatters as weapons were dropped from struck hands. But not nearly enough, and the disorientation didn’t last long. This was League tactics, after all, and only slightly modified by Batman. Cass and Damian also got back to business, and everything was chaos once more.

Jason registered a shift in the cloud with barely enough time to dodge, and one of Shiva’s twin swords cut through the haze only millimeters from his chin. It was quickly followed by the other, this time arching towards his chest. Robin loosed a volley of wingdings in rapid succession, but the clash of metal on metal told him how effective that tactic was. Gripping one of the larger tools like a set of knuckle dusters, he advanced.

In his day the birdarangs had focused more on reducing weight than on durability, and it seemed that was still the case. Robin had only redirected a few glancing blows, and he could already feel the thing cracking. The smoke was fading quickly, and he could mostly see Shiva now. Which meant she could see him too. After blocking yet another strike which came way to close to opening his throat Robin stepped back and loosed one of the explosive discs that had been his favorites. Shiva was an expert, and had her swords prepared to swat it aside when it detonated, and the small explosion sent her blades flying.

Pressing the advantage Robin moved in. Hand-to-hand odds not in his favor either. Better than unarmed against swords. No cape to distract or disorient. Fight dirty.

Dodge high, block low. Opening when she kicks high, knock her off her feet.

It was alarming how quickly he fell back into his training. Batman had taught him a lot, and years of street fights had taught him more. Then there was his time playing amnesiac with the League. Jason winning.

Shiva was on her feet again before anything more than her shoulders touched the ground, and at some point she’d regained her swords, but Jason was ready, and before she realized what was happening, he clapped her ears. The pressure of the strike would have been disorienting on its own, but coupled with the detonation of the micro-flash-bangs cupped in Jason’s hands, Shiva crumpled like a rag doll.

The cloud had completely dissolved now, and Jason easily dodged the sai Cheshire flung at him. Of course this put him in excellent position to catch Bronze Tiger’s shin with his whole stomach. Breathless and airborne, he could do nothing about the pinwheel kick Cheshire dropped on his rib cage. The familiar crunch told him that two were cracked before the pain started up.

Jason landed hard, and Cheshire straddled his waist the second he had. Her other sai raised in both hands, prepared to fall into his throat.

“Enough.”

Silence fell in place of the killing blow. Cheshire looks to her left and Jason followed suit.

The few League grunts that remained standing parted as Talia al’Ghul strode across the battle field to Damian, who still held his blade in a ready position with eyes glued to his cousin. She hadn’t lowered her weapons either. The two had been bitter rivals from the day they’d met.

“Mother.” Damian said with all the tenderness of a freezer burned pork chop.

Without another word she dropped to her knees and embraced him.

After a brief awkward silence, she turned his face towards hers.“What is the reason for this foolishness, son?”

Damian freed himself from her grip. “Is it foolish for a boy to seek his father?”

Talia clicked her tongue in the same fashion that Damian was so fond of, and rose to her feet.

“I would have taken you to meet him in time, Damian. When I decided you were ready.”

“Taken me to kill him. Todd told me everything.” Talia turned her gaze to Jason, who waved awkwardly.

“Let him up, Cheshire.” The masked assassin complied quickly, and even gave Jason a hand standing.

“So this was your doing Ibn al Xu’ffasch?”

‘Son of the Bat.’ The name they had given him at the dawn of his second life. Jason pulled off the mask which was apparently doing him no good, and shrugged.

“Tt” Talia turned her attention to Cassandra, who had frozen in place with her baton less than an inch from a grunt’s nose. There was a circle of (probably) unconscious goons at her feet.

“I’d suspected you’d finally had your fill of your mother’s poor treatment and taken the boys hostage.” She turned back to Jason. “When did you regain your memory?”

“Midway through my second year with you all.” Talia nodded as if she’d expected as much, then turned back to Damian.

“I assume that you are serious about meeting your father, yes? Even if I were to drag you back, you’d simply escape again, isn’t that right?”

“Yes mother.” Talia nodded again. Then produced a sealed envelope from within her jumpsuit.

“I expected as much you are at that age where you think you know everything. This letter will explain everything. Deliver it directly to your father, and no one else. Understand?” Damian took the envelope cautiously, as if expecting it to bite him. Once he had it in hand she knelt again, placing her hands on his shoulders tenderly. “I would never send you to kill your father. Nor you Ibn al Xu’ffasch. My father would do no such thing either.”

“But Todd said-“

“Do not misunderstand me, I do not claim Ibn al Xu’ffasch lied. There are those within the League that believe Ras al’Ghul has been too long the Demon’s Head. There are whispers of a coupe. I do not doubt such plans involve removing my beloved from play. I intended to see you in his care soon enough.” She turned to look over the assassins. “We return to Nanda Parbat. None shall further impede these three, by my word, or face my wrath. My will is the Demon’s will.”

The assassins snapped as one into a bow, and set about gathering the wounded. She moved through the crowd to stand in front of Jason and cupped his face, smiling gently.

“Father swore to make no move on Gotham for as long as my beloved draws breath. He made this oath before the whole of the League of Assassins, and forbade any of them to move on Gotham in his name, on pain of death. This was his penance for your death. His sole intent was to return the son he’d taken from my beloved.”

“Uh, okay?”

“I have enjoyed having you in my home Ibn al Xu’ffasch. You have been as a brother to my son, and a son to me. Look after him, Ibn, for he is too much like his father for his own good.”

“If he’s anything like Bruce, I won’t have to.” Talia chuckled, pat his shoulder, and turned to Cassandra, who seemed to materialize at Jason’s side.

“Cassandra, you are welcome to return with us. You have my word that you will have no trouble.” Cass shook her head.

“They die without me.” She said, patting Jason’s shoulder. His jaw dropped, he’d never heard Cass say so much at one time. Talia had never heard her speak period, but to her credit she only cocked an eyebrow.

“Quite.” She said then returned to Damian.

“When all is well once more, I will send for you, my son. Learn what you can from your father. He is a great man.” Damian nodded, and Talia only lingered for a moment before following the last of the assassins out of the building.

The trio stood in silence for a time, until Jason realized they were waiting for him to tell them what to do next.

“Well. That was fun. Who wants soggy chicken and waffles?” Damian narrowed his eyes, but Cass’s hand shot up. “What? So I picked up food. I wasn’t expecting you two to run off for some daring-do and stumble into an obvious trap.” Damian’s eyes narrowed further. “Okay, after we eat we’ll go straight to the Batcave, no detours, no shenanigans, scouts honor.”

Damian rolled his eyes and started for the exit. “I’ll drive.” He stated as Jason and Cass fell in behind him.

“My turn.” Cass retorted.

“Do you even know how?” Damian probed, eyeing her doubtfully.

“You’re mighty talkative today Cass.” Jason quipped. Cassandra replied by sticking her tongue out. He understood her good mood. Their six month misadventure was almost over. As they stepped out into the summer night Jason looked to the sky, and pulled the pair to a stop. From this side of Blüdhaven you could see it clearly enough. For the first time in five years Jason looked up at the Bat-Signal, and pointed it out to the others.

He couldn’t hold back the smile brought on by the wonder he saw in his companion’s faces.

Homeward bound.

-END

Author’s Notes: this chapter is long, and maybe a bit rambling, but mostly because there’s room for two whole multichapter fics in here. Seriously, I was half tempted to start writing a Damian Cass and Jason cross country road trip full of shenanigans and hilarity. For those wondering, this takes place five years after prologue 1. It took me longer than I thought it would to edit, between baking cheesecake, doing some bag work, and feeling out crafting with worbla. That being said, the next prologue will take even longer (unfortunately(?)) because I want to make sure my events make sense and everything is lined up perfectly and ready for the series proper to begin immediately after.

Feel free to comment, complain, keysmash, or just like and reblog. I THRIVE on your reactions.

Till next time!

38 notes · View notes

nokomiss · 4 years

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Happy 4th! I would love something with Dick and Tim having fun patrolling or working on a case together, maybe with a moment where they have to pull off a little acting for undercover/incognito reasons. Dick/Tim is my favorite but a brotherly dynamic would be great too if you are feeling that instead! Thanks for being open to prompts!

So the morning started out… weird. And by weird, that meant Tim was startled awake by Dick Grayson jumping on his bed while belting out an off-key rendition of “Blue Suede Shoes.”

“Go away,” Tim tried, shoving his face deeper under the pillow and pulling his legs up into the fetal position, attempting to keep from getting bounced on.

Dick ignored him. “Rise and shine, time to fight crime!”

“Crime doesn’t happen at--” Tim blearily poked at his phone, “Eight-thirty in the morning.”

“Crime is always afoot, Timmers,” Dick replied. He hopped off the bed and poked Tim in the side. “Come on. We’ve got that thing you said you’d do with me. You and me! Incognito! It’s gonna be great.”

Tim had absolutely no memory of whatever mission Dick was claiming that he’d agreed to. “When, exactly, did I agree to this?”

“Uh, four weeks ago,” Dick said. “When we were patrolling the East End. Remember? The night we rescued those puppies?”

Tim definitely remembered the puppies, they’d been adorable. And Dick had said something about---

He opened his eyes, and actually looked at Dick for the first time. He was wearing a spangled, fringed jumpsuit that wasn’t the infamous early Nightwing costume. It was white, with bell-bottoms and a plunging neckline, with a rhinestone-studded belt. His hair was in a pompadour. And he struck a pose, one hip out, head bowed, arm in the air.

Dangling from the arm in the air was another white sequined jumpsuit, this one featuring a cape with a bejeweled eagle on the back.

“No,” Tim said, horror-struck, as he remembered with sudden clarity Dick mentioning a tip he’d gotten about a shipment of drugs being smuggled through at an upcoming Elvis convention, and Tim laughingly saying that he’d only go if there were costumes.

“Yes,” Dick said. “We pinky-swore, Tim, you can’t back out now.”

It was true; they had. Tim sighed and got out of bed, taking the jumpsuit from Dick. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“This is easily the best undercover gig I’ve ever had,” Dick confirmed. “Shake a leg, we don’t want to be late!”

Tim dressed quickly. The jumpsuit didn’t feel as weird as it ought, given what he wore out every night, and he kind of enjoyed the short cape. Dick produced some shiny satin scarves to complete their ensembles -- blue for himself, red for Tim, which made him smile, and even big gold sunglasses. After his hair had been fixed, he had to admit they both made pretty good Elvises; he doubted anyone would identify them as members of the Wayne family, at the very least.

On the ride to the convention hall -- a mid-sized one, Tim noticed, with minimal advertising, even though, as far as he knew, Elvis impersonation didn’t trigger any of Gotham’s major rogues -- Dick updated him on the case. He’d done a decent amount of footwork on it already. There was supposed to be a major shipment of newly produced narcotics coming in through the con somehow. The only solid name he had was Geezer, and Dick was unsure if that was a description or a name.

“So we’re going to stalk every geriatric Elvis we can find?” Tim said.

“Stalk is such a negative word,” Dick said. He looked unfairly good as Elvis, and Tim was mildly concerned that they were going to draw unnecessary attention to themselves. Tim himself at least knew he wouldn’t; the jumpsuit he was wearing was too big, and made his lean frame look scrawny instead. It was the trick he’d used in high school to avoid looking too fit, but Dick had not chosen to go that route himself.

Tim planned on making fun of him for that.

Arriving at the convention center was a treat, as he and Dick fit in perfectly. Almost everyone in attendance was wearing Elvis costumes, the majority of which were white rhinestone-crusted ones similar to the ones they were wearing, with a few black leather outfits or gold suits mixed in for fun.

They spent two solid hours moving through the crowds, listening to snippets of conversation and looking for suspicious body language. They focused on the convention hall with its dozens of booths filled to the brim with Elvis merch. They were the likeliest spot for surreptitious drug deals, though Dick’s information hinted at a much larger operation than just two-bit dealers.

In actuality most of the time was actually spent trying on ridiculous hats, posing with various other Elvises, at one point joining in on a giant karaoke flash mob to Jailhouse Rock despite not knowing the choreography (Dick hissed, “Just shake your pelvis, it’ll be fine” and lo and behold for once that advice was spot on) and in general having a grand time.

It was, actually, such a grand time that Tim started to become suspicious that this wasn’t actually a drug bust but actually just an outing to an Elvis convention.

“So why didn’t you bring the brat instead?” he asked as they got fried peanut butter, banana and bacon sandwiches. Now that he was thinking about the day critically, he was doubting everything. This was exactly the sort of dumb adventure that Dick would normally love to drag Damian to, under the guise of exposing him to quote-unquote culture.

Dick cast his eyes around and said, “I love Dami, don’t get me wrong, but some things are sacred.”

“Oh,” Tim said, “you didn’t want him to harsh your vibe by refusing to wear a jumpsuit.”

“Exactly,” Dick said, nodding. Several hours in and Tim still wanted to laugh when he really focused on what Dick looked like, especially since he’d truly taken to the role and was doing a lip snarl to punctuate nearly every sentence.

“But Jason would have eaten this up,” Tim pointed out. It was exactly the sort of over-the-top nonsense that Jason excelled at, despite denying the fact vehemently. “Or Cass. She would have been an incredible Elvis. She would have crushed Jailhouse Rock.”

“You wanna make this a family outing next time?” Dick’s whole face lit up. “Awww, baby bro!”

“Shut up,” Tim muttered. “There’s totally not a next time.”

“Crime never sleeps, Timmy, and look at how many shady individuals are here.” Dick pointed to a toddler taking a few wobbly steps then tripping over its bellbottoms. “I mean, by next year, there’s a crime lord in the making.”

“Not what I said!” Tim said, laughing. “I just wondered, you know, why me, out of everyone.”

Just like that, the laughter dropped from Dick’s eyes and he straightened up. For one brief second Tim could see how he managed to be a convincing Batman, and then Dick said, “Tim, you’re important to me, you know that, right? I knew this was going to actually be a fun mission for once, and I miss having fun with you.”

Oh. Tim knew logically that they hadn’t spent as much time together recently as they used to, especially as they used to back when he was Robin, but he hadn’t thought that Dick missed it as much as he did.

“I’m glad,” he said, and didn’t duck away at all when Dick wrapped him up in a bear hug, then continued to lead the way with an arm draped over his shoulder.

“There’s a panel starting soon about theories on Elvis’s current whereabouts, I bet there’ll be plenty of geezers there.” Dick led the way to a room off the main convention floor.

Sure enough, given how dated the Elvis-is-alive theory was, most of the audience and the entire panel were decidedly geriatric. The panelists presented theories that were in depth and crazy enough that Tim almost wanted to look into their veracity, even though he knew that if Elvis had truly not died, some superhero would have surely come across him by now and he would have heard about it.

The audience was of far more interest. Several of the Elvises would get up, whisper to another, then disappear behind a curtain for a few minutes. Tim elbowed Dick when he noticed, and Dick nodded. They snuck around to the curtain, and peeked behind it.

Another Elvis, this time in statue form.

Tim shrugged, unsure as to why people were sneaking in to see a statue of Elvis when there were easily a dozen other animatronic ones at various points on the convention floor. They approached slowly, but the statue was just that: a statue.

“Weird,” Tim said.

Dick shrugged and looked at it closely. “Pretty good likeness.” He poked it in the chest, randomly poking at various rhinestones, and there was a faint whirring sound from within the statue, and the rhinestone belt popped open like a quarter candy machine and dropped two pills onto the floor.

They stood for a moment, blinking at the revelation that they’d found a secret narcotic dispensing machine disguised as an Elvis statue.

“Huh,” Tim said, “I’m gonna be honest with you here, I didn’t actually think this was a real mission.”

“I mean,” Dick said, “I can see why it would be outlandish. Guess we wait here and kick the ass of whoever comes to try to collect money from us?”

“What if it’s the old Elvises?” Tim said. “Is it morally okay to kick geriatric ass?”

“We can gently kick their ass, I guess?” Dick said. “Real delicate-like.”

It was a truly embarrassing moment to be a vigilante. The narcotic ring was masterminded by three guys in their eighties who probably had dealt to the King himself, and Dick and Tim had to very delicately immobilize their scooters and zip-tie them before alerting the police. They waited in the little anteroom making sure no one else stumbled across the drugs or dealers until they heard the approach of officers, then slipped out into the crowd just as the dance-off began.

Dick of course insisted they join in before leaving, and Tim had to admit he was glad; it was a sight to see.

#my fic #dcu fic #tim drake #dick grayson #batfam #I wrote this with a brotherly relationship in mind #and it's totally gen #but tried to make it a little ambiguous since you ship them #hope you enjoy #jes-cher

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is-it-madness · 4 years

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My Glorious Purpose | Loki x OC Chapter 6

A/N: I’m so in love with the mood board for this story! Thank you @wowjeena for helping me with it and for being an amazing beta! Love you, darling! 💜😘

Pairing: Loki x OC (Tera Digitalis)

Word Count: 3.7k+

Warnings: Touching without consent

Chapter 6: Mission

(Tera’s POV)

Three months have passed by. Tony and Pepper rebuilt Stark Tower from the inside. Tony made sure that every Avenger has their own floor if they ever happen to stay over—Nat and Clint already rearranged their rooms to suit their style. They had come back about a week after they had vanished. Everything is back to normal after Loki’s attempted invasion failed. I still have a light mark from where I was cut on my forehead, other than that, everything is great. Tony designed my room, but unlike Clint and Nat, I kept the original layout and decor. I don’t really have that many possessions to decorate with. When Fury had dropped off a backpack that contained all my stuff, Tony freaked.

“Hey! Where’s this bag from kid? It has your name on it.”

I walk over to where Tony is standing. There’s a backpack next to the elevator and sure enough, my name is on it. I pick it up and unzip it.

“Oh! This is my stuff. Fury must’ve finally had time to clear out my room on the ship,” I tell Tony.

He looks at the bag, then at me, then back down to the bag.

“So-o-o, when is he going to bring the rest of your stuff over?”

“This is all my stuff Tony,” I laugh while shaking my head.

He takes the bag from my hands.

“Hey!”

He starts to ruffle around inside.

“Wait, wait. So you’re telling me all you own is three shirts and two pairs of pants?!”

“Not true!” I retaliate.

“Oh excuse me, so rude of me to forget about your toiletries,” he says sarcastically.

“Yeah, so?” I rip my belongings out of his grasp.

“Okay. JARVIS.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“Remind me to ask Ms. Potts to take the kid shopping later.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tony! You really don’t need to do that! I’m absolutely fine with what I have!”

“Look kid. You might be okay living like this, but I’m not. You are a teenager! You should have more shoes that you can count! Jeans, shorts, t-shirts, sweaters, dresses, pajamas!. Not some S.H.I.E.L.D. authorized uniforms! And I’m not going to keep arguing with you about this! End of discussion.”

I huff in frustration. “Fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I look into my huge walk-in closet that Tony had built for me. I’ve been able to fill a rack after Ms. Potts had taken me shopping. I honestly don’t mind having a few items. I’ve lived so long with so little, that I’m used to not owning as many things as most girls my age would.

I quickly change into some workout clothes we bought and head down to the training room. Nat is already down there meditating, and I join her. We sit there for about ten minutes before we start to stretch.

“You ready to continue your training?” she asks me.

I nod at her enthusiastically. She had begun to train me in karate before Loki came to Earth.

“Okay, so I decided that today, we are going to start incorporating weapons into your techniques.”

She walks to the cabinet where we store all our practice weapons, and pulls out a staff that’s roughly her height. She reaches in again and pulls out another one that is smaller by several inches and hands it to me.

“Now, when you work with a staff, you need one about your height. That makes it easier to work with. And since you’re so short, you get the smallest staff.”

“Hey! Just because I’m five inches shorter than you does NOT mean I’m short!”

It’s the whole “kid” fiasco all over again.

Nat just laughs. “Yeah, because being 5’2” isn’t short at all. Not in the slightest.”

“Whatever. Can we just start already?”

“Okay, first, we’ll begin with learning how to do a basic spin.”

She begins spinning her staff with both her hands, then switching between hands. I begin to bounce on my heels. I can’t wait; it looks so cool. When she’s done showing off, she stands in front of me.

“Now the first thing you want to do is place your left foot in front of you and extend your left hand while holding your staff. Make sure your hand is in the middle of the staff. Good. Next place your right hand on your chest, just to move it out of your way, for the time being.”

I complied.

“Okay now follow what I do.”

She begins to turn the staff in front of her, then bringing it towards her back.

“See how I’m leading the staff with my thumb? It’s directing the staff where I want it to go.”

We practice that move for a few minutes before turning to use our right hand. After we do that, it starts to get a little tricky. Nat tells me to reverse the way I am turning my staff, so that I start with my palm downward instead of up. It takes me several tries and a few hits to my arm before I finally catch on.

“Not bad. Now let’s try incorporating both hands.”

I watch Nat do it first before I give myself any more bruises. She starts slowly, with her left hand, turning the staff in front of her. When she reaches the right side of her body, she places her right hand behind her left, and turns it back towards the left side of her. She starts speeding up and taking steps as she twirls her staff. It’s a beautifully deadly sight. I start mimicking her movement and soon we were side by side, furiously spinning our staffs in front of us, dancing around each other. Lethal, dangerous, a force to be reckoned with. And I love it.

After practicing for a few hours, I head upstairs to take a shower. Tony had built an en suite in everyone’s rooms. At first, I thought it was a bit much, but I had admittedly grown to love it. When I finish showering and changing into regular clothes, I make my way to the kitchen for food. I take out some ice cream, milk, and frozen strawberries and dump them into a blender. Nat walks in when I’m adding the bananas.

“Mmmm. Make me a cup too.”

“I don’t know if I should,” I respond teasingly. “After all, I seem to recall a certain redhead making fun of my height.”

“Please кроли!” she pouts.

“Okay, fine, fine.”

I blend the smoothie together and pour us each a cup.

We’re making small talk, when her phone buzzes. She picks it up and reads the message. She smiles and looks at me.

“What’s up Nat?”

“Clint and I have another mission tonight.”

“Another one?” I ask nonchalantly, trying to not sound whiny. You just came back from one two days ago! I think to myself.

She must’ve seen the disappointment on my face, however, because she says, “Don’t worry, it’s only for tonight.”

“Good. Otherwise I would have had to practice spinning a staff with Tony.”

Nat laughs at that. When we finish our smoothies, Nat leaves to look for Clint to fill him in on the mission they received. I head out on my own, roaming the tower. I could join Tony and Bruce in the lab, since I’ve been acting as peacemaker since we first settled in. Tony gets a kick out of trying to get Bruce to hulk out. We haven’t had an accident yet, but with Tony around, who knows when Bruce will reach the end of his tether. But I just don’t want to deal with that headache right now. After Tony had finished rebuilding the tower, and whenever Clint and Nat are gone, I go exploring. It’s unbelievable how many rooms the tower has. Lately I stopped exploring because I found a library. It’s magnificent. Rows of shelves that reach the ceiling are stacked with books. The room is circular, so that you can’t see the other end of the room when you enter, just books. It’s kinda like a maze, with all the shelves curving to fit the shape of the room. Someone else could be in here and you would never know. Thankfully Tony took my advice when building this room. He added a mini kitchen, several sofas and armchairs, and a huge fireplace, that I requested. I go to my favorite sofa and grab the book I’ve been reading.

I read for several hours before I hear JARVIS speak to me.

“Miss Tera, Miss Romanoff has asked me to inform you that she is looking for you. She is currently in your room.”

“Okay, thanks JARVIS.”

I jog to the elevator and head up to mine and Nat’s floor. I enter my room to see Nat wearing a black cocktail dress with red accents and black heels. Clint is there too and wearing a suit.

“Hey Nat. JARVIS said you were looking for me?”

“Yeah, why aren’t you dressed yet?!”

“For what?”

“Oh shit, did I forget to tell you? You’re coming with us on our mission.”

“Really? Seriously?”

“Yeah, c’mon, get ready. Here’s your dress,” she says, gesturing to my bed.

I take one look at it.

“Wait, what is it that I’ll be doing exactly?” I ask anxiously.

Clint answers, “Don’t worry, you’re backup. Which means you get to sit with me and let Nat do everything.”

“Well if I’m just backup, why do I need this dress?”

“Cause we're going to a party,” Nat tells me.

Nat has to force me out of my hoodie and jeans and into the dress. She threatened to make me workout with Tony. I changed real fast when she said that. When I finish, I slip into the heels that Nat set aside for me. Clint then sat me down in front of my mirror and did my makeup while Nat worked on my hair.

I’m glad when we went to the garage no one saw me in my dress. I manage to avoid everyone. Except for Nat and Clint of course. Now don’t get me wrong. I like the dress. I really like it, in fact. But I struggle with accepting my appearance, not to mention self-esteem. I don’t like anything about any of my features, my insecurities always consume my every waking minute. And this dress is a little revealing. I feel exposed in the lace sleeves, knee length skirt, and low neckline. Plus with the black and gold heels? It’s a nice outfit, just not for me.

As we drive to the hotel, where the party is at, I admire my smokey makeup look Clint did. I never would have guessed that a skilled archer would know how to apply eye shadow.

“So what are we dealing with Nat?”

She turns to face me from the front. Next to her, driving, is Clint.

“We’re dealing with a major illegal arms dealer named James Foyer. He’s made millions selling illegal weapons to the worst kind of people imaginable.”

“I’m guessing you’re gonna flirt with him to get him to tell you who his buyers are?”

She winks. “Exactly.”

I run my hands through my long, brunette hair. “So what’s he celebrating?”

“I don’t think he needs a reason to celebrate. Just wants to show the world he’s got money—and lots of it,” Clint says.

A few minutes later, we pull up in front of a huge hotel. We step out of the Ferrari and Clint gives the keys to the valet.

“Not a scratch.”

Nat and I hold on to Clint’s arm, on either side of him.

“Earpieces in?”

“Check,” we tell him.

“Alright then Nat, off you go.”

She slips away from us and heads through the crowd, keeping an eye out for our target. Clint heads toward the stairs, and I make my way to the back of the party, smiling, keeping watch.

“Target located Nat. He’s coming out of the elevator.”

Of course Clint would see him first, looking for his prey from above.

“Heading that way now,” Nat reports back.

I turn towards the elevator, where a tall, skinny, dark haired man is exiting. He has a cigar dangling from his lips and is wearing an expensive looking suit. As soon as he steps out of the elevator, hordes of women try to come near him, to touch him, to claim him as their own. He gives each of them attention, but he grows bored of them and moves on to the next set of breasts he sees.

“Disgusting,” I want to look away, but I can’t. I’m Nat’s backup. If something happens to her, I have to jump in and take her spot. I see James’ eyes latch on to Nat and her body. I shake my head. No decent man can look at Nat without looking down every few seconds. But she takes it, she starts chatting with him, laughing flirtatiously, placing her hand on his arm. It seems to be working. I figure Nat would get him to crack in the next ten minutes. I start to notice something wrong. Foyer is getting bored of her. I’ve never seen a man become bored so quickly when Natasha Romanoff is around. He begins scanning the crowd, looking for another female to interest him, when his eyes land on me. I’m about to bolt out of the hotel, when I hear Clint.

“Wait! Stay there. Nat’s losing him, so you might have to go in. Act interested in him.”

I do as Clint says and flash a smile at Foyer. He immediately begins to make his way towards me.

Through my clenched smile, I tell Clint, “I don’t think I can do this! Nat hasn’t trained me in this yet!”

“Don’t worry Tera, you can do this. Just make him think you’re into him. Flirt. Laugh. Play dumb.”

“But Clint-”

“This is my sister Savannah. Savannah, this is Mr. James Foyer.”

“There you are Cleo!” I say to Nat. “I’ve been looking for you!” I turn to face the man. “It’s lovely to meet you Mr. Foyer.”

I extend my hand to shake, but he takes it and brings it to his lips.

“Please, call me James.”

I smile back at him, trying to restrain my look of disgust.

“Cleo, why didn’t you tell me your sister is a doll?”

Nat laughs and says, “You think every new girl you meet is a doll.”

I find myself very relieved that Nat and I came up with fake names for each other. I suddenly notice Nat tapping her thigh. It isn’t out of nervousness, rather, it’s a code—Morse code.

Not me, he wants you.

I groan internally after I decode her message. Of course the only person to ever find me attractive is a sleazeball.

Okay. I tap back. I have to do this, this is why I’m here, for backup. Also because I don’t think Clint would be able to seduce Foyer.

At my response, Nat makes up an excuse to leave, leaving me with Foyer.

“I don’t believe you two are sisters,” he says evenly.

I raise an eyebrow. KEEP CALM!

“Really?”

He takes a step closer to me and takes my face in his hand. It takes all I have to not bite his hand.

“No. You’re much more… appealing,” he says, eyes darting towards my body, lingering in places that make me want to put him in a choke hold.

DON’T SLAP HIM, DO NOT SLAP HIM! THINK OF THE MISSION! THINK. OF. THE. MISSION.

“You’re not like other girls,” he continues.

“How so?” I ask, in what I hope is a seductive voice, batting my lashes at him.

He drops his hand and chuckles. “As soon as I entered the room, they all threw themselves at me. You didn’t. I like women who play hard to get.” He suddenly grabs my waist and pulls me flush against him, now whispering in my ear. “Cause once I get them, they taste the sweetest,” I feel him place a soft kiss on my neck, lingering before pulling away.

I see Clint aiming his gun from the balcony and Nat pulling out her knives. They heard what he said and saw what he did. I place my arms around Foyer’s neck, making a shooing motion with my hand to tell them to stand down. I smile at the man in front of me, an idea forming.

“If we taste the sweetest, what do you taste like?”

He smiles an even larger one and leans forward, attempting to kiss me. I put a finger to his lips and a hand to his chest, holding him back. I might have to seduce him, but I refuse to let my first kiss be with this sexist.

“Why don’t we go somewhere a little more private?” I whisper, trailing my fingers down his chest, stopping at his belt.

He takes my hand and heads towards the elevator. He pushes the button for the third floor and as soon as the doors close, he tries kissing me again and again I place a finger to his lips.

“I don’t give kisses very easily, so if you want one, you must do as I say. Understand?”

He places both his hands on my waist. Never have I felt so violated in my life, but I hold back all my anger and emotions.

I can’t back out of his iron-like grasp. He bends over to whisper into my ear again. “But you taste divine babe.” He places his lips at the base of my neck and I begin to feel him trail his tongue upward towards my jaw.

“So good,” I hear him whisper, before he catches my earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently.

Correction. NOW I have never been more violated. I grab his tie. I momentarily think about how if I choked him here and now, no one would know. Unfortunately though, we need that information from him, otherwise I would have to explain to Fury why the only man that can give us the information is dead. I quickly begin to care less about the mission and more about my own dignity, but before I can tighten the tie and choke the life out of him, the doors open to the third floor. Foyer removes his lips from my skin, takes my hand and leads me to his door. I look at the number, memorizing it for later. Foyer opens the door and pulls me inside. He tries kissing me a third time and again I stop him with a finger.

“You had your fun in the elevator,” I tell him. “Now it's my turn.”

He bits his lower lip and I see the lust in his eyes, but thankfully, he doesn’t argue.

Thank god!

I push him into a chair by the dresser, and I reach inside my clutch that I brought with me and pull out a pair of handcuffs.

I dangle them in front of him.

“You brought cuffs with you?” he asks, unbuttoning his shirt.

I wink, “I thought I might get lucky tonight. Turns out I did.”

I cuff his hands and attach them to the chair, so not only is he cuffed, he also can’t walk around without the chair dragging with him.

I take his tie off.

“Open.”

He opens his mouth immediately and I tie the cloth around his mouth forming a gag.

“Good. Now you wait here, and I’ll be back with a surprise for you.” I whisper in his ear, with a hand on his chest. I turn and head into the bathroom. I wink at him before closing the door.

I whip out my phone and text Nat.

Nat I got him. He’s cuffed and gagged.

Hurry, call Fury quick.

I only have a few minutes before he gets suspicious.

Where are you?

Third floor.

Room 394

This isn't a joke. Please hurry.

There‘s no response and it’s quiet for two minutes before I hear a loud thud. Probably Fury. I hear someone loading a gun.

“Where is she!?!”

I walk out of the bathroom.

“Hey sis,” I say.

I see Clint holding a loaded gun pointed at Foyer’s head, Nat with her widow’s bite charged up and ready to pounce, and the door laying on the ground. Yup. It was Fury.

“Alright boys, tie him up. Nice work you three. You’re done for the night, go and head on home.”

“Thanks, Director.”

“Don’t forget to turn your report into me. Otherwise I’ll put you on desk duty.”

“Yes sir,” we all say.

We turn to leave but I think of something

I walk back to Foyer. “Did you like my surprise?”

He glares and growls through the gag.

I feign shock. “You didn’t?! Well I have some advice for you. Never touch a lady without her consent, otherwise they’ll bring hell down on you.” I smile and walk out of the room with Nat and Clint by my side.

As we walk through the lobby, S.H.I.E.L.D agents run past us, up the stairs and into the elevator.

“You did amazing Tera. I’m so proud of you!”

I smile at the praise. “Thanks Nat.” I pause before asking, “Do you have any wipes? I feel contaminated.”

She smiles at me. “I always have some during my missions. They’re in the car. C’mon.”

When we walk out of the hotel, our Ferrari is parked right up front. We get in and Clint takes off, back towards Stark Tower.

“Here you go.”

Nat passes me a pack of wet wipes. I immediately pull out three and begin scrubbing my hands and neck. I start telling them exactly what happened, not leaving out a single detail. I’m telling them how I was able to gag and cuff him, when Nat gets a call on her phone. She answers and puts it on speaker.

“Hey Tony. What’s up?”

“Sorry Nat, I know you guys are on your mission, but something came up.”

“Don’t worry, we finished. We’re on our way home right now.”

“Good, because I need you three here now.”

“Is that Lady Natasha?” We hear a voice ask in the background. “I wish to speak with her as well!”

The three of us look at each other.

“Tony?” I ask. “Is that Thor?”

“Lady Tera! You are in this device as well? Splendid!”

“No, wait Thor! That button hangs-”

The line goes dead. I laugh at the thought of Thor and Tony wrestling with the phone.

“I wonder why Thor is back?” Clint wonders aloud.

Clint pulls into the garage of the tower and we make our way towards the elevator.

“At least we have another member on the team,” I say as we head up.

Part 7

#loki #lokixoc #My Glorious Purpose #loki odinson #marvel #loki fanfic #Avengers #loki laufeyson

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ppanhwi · 5 months

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CTCD Doodle 🫠

#courage the cowardly dog #ctcd #cartoon network #courage #courage the dog #human version #humanized #katz #freaky fred #banana suit dealer #bunny #shirley the medium #courage computer #katz x courage #fredealer

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courage-doodles-blog · 3 months

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[CW⚠️ WEIRDCORE/DREAMCORE]

Courage The Cowardly Dog characters if they were in Weirdcore/Dreamcore AU.

This AU has their designs made morbid based on a type(s) of aesthetic(s)

Courage is a dog puppet with stitch marks all over his face and body. He can't talk since his mouth is stitched shut, he has buttons sewn into his eyes which are bleeding out of them. His design is based on plushies with button eyes and marionette puppets

Muriel and Eustace are faceless

Katz has spider features such as having six eyes and spider legs on his back. His design is based on cats, spiders and horror aesthetic

Le Quack is a duck accordion toy that plays his background music, based on those monkey cymbal toys

Cajun Fox's appearance is of an actual fox

Bunny and Kitty are both plushies made of cotton and wool. Kitty's mouse toy is a living mouse and appears on her shoulder

Banana Suit Dealer is faceless

Ma Bagge's face isn't shown but it only shows her glasses

Fusilli is a ventriloquist dummy with four crocodile eyes

Black Puddle Queen has a more monstrous siren appearance along with her outfit and hair covered in coral, shells and pearls. Design based on ocean academia

Clutching Foot's faces have hundreds of eyes

Shirley has a crystal ball head

Computer is a computer head

Weremole is more werewolf looking

Dr Zalost has rat features and Rat is a reanimated ragdoll plush

Benton Tarentella is a camera head

Errol Van Volkheim is a picture head

Courage's parents/Henry and Teresa are ragdolls

Mad Dog has chains around his arms. His design is based on hatecore aesthetic

Cruel Veterinarian's design is based on digital horror aesthetic

Freaky Fred's pupils are dilated and has a large unsettling grin. His design is based on analog horror and Sweeney Todd

Banana Suit Dealer is a faceless banana

Charlie's design is based on foodie aesthetic

General and Lieutenant are both faceless

King Ramses's design is based on horror and analog horror aesthetics with his slab attached to his chest and has scarecrow like features

Cat Thieves/Jim and Paul are conjoined twins

Schwick has a human body with beetle features

Di Lung has features of the Chinese lion

The Empress's design has features of the Chinese dragon

Goose God is a lightning bolt head

Storm Goddess is a cloud head

Hunchback's only facial feature is his eye

Bigfoot's face has hundreds of eyes

Newsman is microphone head

Duck Brothers are all conjoined together

Dorothy Bagge is faceless

Stitch Sisters are ragdoll puppets

Space Chicken's design is based on spacecore

Dr Gerbil has a human torso with rodent features

Dr Vindaloo's design is based on analog horror aesthetic

The Perfectionist Teacher's face is blurred

King of Flan is a flan head

Velvet Vic is a record player head

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1andxrea1tge1bisexual1here1 · 11 months

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🔪🩸💀👹💔 WARNING: This post contains graphic descriptions of violence, blood, gore, and body horror. Please proceed with caution. 🔪🩸💀👹💔

🌟𝕯𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝕶𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌🌟

In a twisted alternate universe, where darkness reigns and nightmares come to life, the villains of "Courage the Cowardly Dog" face a fate more terrifying than ever before. With a sinister alliance between Muzan, the infamous demon, and his daughter Andrea, a haunting figure with brown hair, blue eyes, and a blood-red kimono adorned with daki belts and webs inspired by Rui, the Lower and Upper Moons from "Demon Slayer," these once-menacing adversaries are systematically hunted down, one by one.

📜🗡️ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖛𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑: 📜🗡️

🔴𝕶𝖆𝖙𝖟🔴

Victim: Katz

Demon: Daki, Upper Moon 6

Fate: Katz met his demise at the hands of Daki, Upper Moon 6. His blood was spilled, and his life extinguished, as he became prey to the insatiable hunger of the demoness. 😈💉💀

🔵𝕷𝖊 𝕼𝖚𝖆𝖈𝖐🔵

Victim: Le Quack

Demon: Akaza, Upper Moon 3

Fate: The treacherous Le Quack found himself in the clutches of Akaza, Upper Moon 3. Consumed by the overwhelming power of the demon, Le Quack's life was violently snuffed out, and his flesh devoured by the insatiable beast. 🦆🔪🍽️

🟠𝕮𝖆𝖏𝖚𝖓 𝕱𝖔𝖝🟠

Victim: Cajun Fox

Demon: Kokushibo, Upper Moon 1

Fate: Cajun Fox, a cunning adversary, faced a fate worse than any nightmare. Caught in the clutches of Kokushibo, Upper Moon 1, he experienced the horrifying reality of his life being drained away, his body ravaged by the demonic entity. His last words echoed in the darkness as he succumbed to eternal darkness. 🦊🗡️💀

🟣𝕱𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖞 𝕱𝖗𝖊𝖉🟣

Victim: Freaky Fred

Demons: Andrea and Muzan

Fate: The unhinged mind of Freaky Fred could not withstand the power of Andrea and Muzan. Beaten mercilessly and left broken, he was devoured by the ravenous demons, ensuring that his torment would last for all eternity. 🚿💇🩸💔

🟡𝔼𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕖🟡

Victim: Eustace

Demon: Douma

Fate: Eustace, a source of constant torment for Courage, met his

end at the hands of Douma. The demon's insatiable appetite consumed Eustace whole, leaving no trace of the ornery farmer behind. His screams of anguish were silenced forever. 👨‍🌾🔥🍽️💀

🔷𝔻𝕣. 𝔾𝕖𝕣𝕓𝕚𝕝🔷

Victim: Lower Moon 7

Demon: Dr. Gerbil

Fate: Dr. Gerbil, a deranged scientist whose twisted experiments endangered Courage, became a victim of Daki, one of the demons orchestrating this blood-soaked tragedy. His fate transformed him into a new lower moon demon, Lower Moon 7, destined to continue spreading chaos and horror. 🐹🧪🔬🌑🦇

🎬 𝕾𝖕𝖎𝖓-𝕺𝖋𝖋 𝕺𝖕𝖕𝖔𝖗𝖙 🎬

To bring this dark vision to life, we're seeking talented individuals to contribute to an animated series titled "Demons Killing." We're looking for voice actors, scriptwriters, background artists, blood artists, and animation makers. With the help of ChatGPT and reference images, we aim to capture the essence of the series, immersing viewers in this nightmare realm.

📺🎭 𝕾𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝕹𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘: "𝕯𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝕶𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌" 🎭📺

🔥 Episode 1: "Bloodstained Nightmares" (血塗られた悪夢)

🔪 Episode 2: "Dreadful Encounters" (恐ろしい出会い)

🌙 Episode 3: "Moonlit Carnage" (月明かりの虐殺)

🩸 Episode 4: "Crimson Slaughter" (深紅の虐殺)

💔 Episode 5: "Tears of Despair" (絶望の涙)

🌑 Episode 6: "Eternal Darkness" (永遠の闇)

Join us on this journey into the depths of horror and terror, where the familiar becomes twisted, and the line between good and evil blurs into oblivion. Together, let's give life to this chilling alternate universe and leave our audience with an unforgettable nightmare. 😈💀🌙🖤

Season 1 will come our on somewhere in 2023 to 2024

Appreance of her

#le quack #katz #cajun fox #freaky fred #clutching foot #black puddle queen #courage the cowardly dog au #courage the cowardly dog #banana suit dealer

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foxedthecards · 4 years

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About Jonas

Jonas’s About Page has been updated (finally) Here’s the mobile version

Facts About Jonas

-He’s 21 years old

-The only job Jonas seems to be able to keep consistently is as some sort of lounge magician. He’s been (in no particular order) a bartender, a knock-off Chippendale dancer, a blackjack dealer, a cabana boy, a spa concierge, a limo driver for an Elvis-themed wedding chapel, a funeral home cosmetologist and once he was randomly paid fifty bucks for a job that may have involved the mafia, a fake gorilla suit and banana strawberry daiquiris.

-Jonas is an excellent cook

-His memory is spectacularly shitty, partly due to a bad accident he had when he was nineteen. He sometimes suffers from fugues because of this especially if he’s very stressed out

-He’ll often write down stuff he wants to remember on his arm or hand

-He’s a shorty. 5'2 to be exact and probably about ninety pounds soaking wet. He’s a skinny little fuck who sometimes forgets to eat

-His relationship with his family can best be described as uncomfortable and remote. He does however call his mom regularly. He and his dad are well. Not speaking. He’s the youngest of seven kids and quite by accident he’s the only legitimate kid. He doesn’t talk about his family a lot.

-Despite having big Chaotic Dumbass Energy, Jonas does have a pretty solid work ethic when he wants to and has been known to work himself half to death at times

-He’s very interested in Las Vegas history and the history of magic and enjoys spending time at museums to that effect

-He’s a pretty decent magician, good with cards and close-up magic, it’s just in the world of Vegas that’s not nearly flashy enough to be impressive.

-He has several very self-destructive habits, namely drinking and drugs (although if this is a trigger for anyone I will gladly tone it down)

-He falls for people very easily but he’s got a really warped sense of what love and commitment is. He’s not had very healthy relationships and since he’s got such a need to please, it’s easy for people to take advantage of him.

-He has a hard time actually saying the words I love you although he’s very physically affectionate and cuddly once he gets to know a person. ‘I love you’ represents a hope of a serious and more permanent relationship. He’s all too aware that the majority of relationships he’s in will never have that level of depth.

-Self-worth who? Don’t know her

#muse musings #facts about jonas

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iloveyouthree-thousand · 5 years

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Masterlist

So, I’ve written a lot of things. A lot of stupid things. And I figured I might as well catalog them.

I’m also going to link my other accounts:

FF.net: psychicchameleon (for the love of God don’t read my old shit. I’m trusting you.)

Ao3: iloveyouthree_thousand

Note: everything is pretty Irondad centric unless otherwise specified.

one-shots:

and even if I’m gone, there’s always a place for you here -- “I wanted you to know that he never forgot about you. You meant a lot to him, to us. You were a part of this family too, and it didn’t feel right to not include you in our new home.”

it’s killing me to hold on (but I’m dying without you here) -- “I know!”, he snaps, turning to face the apparition, “God, Pete, don’t you get it? Every day I wait for the dream to end, but every single day that god damn sun rises and you still don’t come home.”

trope: Mister Stark -- “You’re not my dad, but you’re… something like that, I guess. Something special. You’re Mr. Stark.”

the graduation -- “He scanned the audience, and like a magnet, his gaze landed on May. And then Tony. Peter took a shaky breath. ‘Tonight, I’d like to talk about heroes.’”

a suit of armor around (his) world -- “He told me, once, that he didn’t think he’d rest until he could put a suit of armor around the world. I thought it was… a fever dream. But then I saw him look at you, wrapped up in that suit, and I realized that he’d already done it.”

sometimes a family is nothing more than a kid, his aunt, a guy-in-the-chair, and a handful of Avengers -- “Tony froze, a fuzzy warmth spreading in his chest as he searched Peter’s face for any indication that he understood the gravity of the statement he had just made.”

we push away the unimaginable -- “Tony didn’t know which scenario he was more afraid of: A pile of dust on the floor. Or May Parker, alive and well, having lost the one thing she had left to lose.”

and I’ll be right there with you, wherever you go -- “Ugh, you know that when you cry I cry,” she fans at her eyes desperately, “and Peter Parker if you make me smudge my makeup so help me–I will lock you in this room for the entirety of this wedding.”

you’ll always be my underoos -- “Jealousy was watching Morgan Stark crawl into her father’s lap, the two of them wearing matching grins as he held her tight, exchanging whispered I love you’s that were so easy and second-nature it hurt.”

sleep tight, I’ll be right here watching over you -- “If Tony had to choose between saving himself or saving you and Morgan—he’d choose you guys every time,” she tiled his head up gently, “it’s what parents do.”

in fourteen billion lifetimes, I’d still love you in every one -- “All I know is that,” he paused, waiting for Peter to meet his eyes, “in fourteen billion scenarios, he always brought you back. Ms. Potts, his little girl, and you were always a given.”

who tells your story? -- “He waited for the day that it wouldn’t hurt so bad, for the day he could tell his little girl about a superhero named Spider-Man, who knew an inordinate amount of B-list sci-fi trivia and cared about saving a stray cat as much as he cared about stopping a gang of arms dealers.”

you can take away my kid (but he’ll always be a part of me) -- “That kid—he ignited something parental in you before you even had a chance to fight it. We all knew you were a dad way before we found out Pepper was pregnant.”

five times Peter Parker could hear Tony’s heart beating (and the one time he couldn’t) -- “It helps Peter to hear his heartbeat. He knows that. As long as Tony’s heart kept beating in his ears, Peter knew he wasn’t going anywhere.”

there are moments that the words don’t reach -- “Peter was gone and he was alone and there was nothing to say anymore, because the worst had come and gone and Tony had let it happen with only two words of protest: you’re alright.”

the beginning of a future that could’ve been -- “Tony called Peter down to Pepper’s office under the guise of meeting up for lunch. Instead, he presented him with a plaque that he’d had rush-ordered, solidifying his position as the newest intern at Stark Industries.”

and we might not be able to save everyone (but I’ll be damned if I can’t save you) -- “I’ve been here, too, at the end of my rope. Because you’re a superhero, right,” he chokes, “a card-carrying member of the 'earth’s mightiest heroes’ club, but they don’t tell you when you sign up how much it absolutely sucks.”

The Cherry-Red Porsche 944 Turbo [from five-ish times Peter didn’t call Tony ‘dad’] -- “I don’t care how many times you save Queens, if you ever have to call AAA, then I feel like I’ve failed as a mentor.”

and they say a picture is worth a thousand words (but I never understood that until now) -- “Before they realized what was happening, it had become a tradition. Still, they’d never voice the fact that it was Father’s Day. It was just a random day that they happened to spend together. Annually.”

just get back up (when it knocks you down) -- “He said there’s always a choice, but I could see his face, Mr. Stark. He didn’t look like he had a choice. And in a different life, in a million different scenarios… that could’ve been me.”

because I don’t know what I’d do without you -- “You’re not my dad!” The words blurt out of Peter’s mouth before he’s even aware of them. Silence hangs thickly in the air. Peter’s voice is wobbly, softer, as he repeats, “you’re not my dad.”

sometimes parenthood hits you when you least expect it (but you accept it all the same) -- “You don’t just get to walk out on him because it got hard. He’s had enough taken away from him. I can’t watch him lose you too.”

blood or not, when you love someone three-thousand, they’re your family too -- “Peter’s brain is going haywire, trying to process the fact that this tiny human he’s never met before is calling him Petey and clinging to him like a long lost friend.”

Anthony Stark [from Stark: An American Musical] -- “Holy mother of—you bastard, orphan, son of a—good God that hurts.”

I still believe in heroes -- “Heroes make mistakes, kid, it’s part of the job. We continue to believe in them anyway, we have to, because the second we don’t… I—none of us should live in a world like that.”

trope: coming out -- “Pride means a lot of things to a lot of people. And sometimes, it’s nothing more than taking a breath and looking in the mirror and smiling because you’re you and that’s enough.”

bullet point fics and headcanons:

you win some (but, oh, you lose so much more) -- “That’s the way life goes; some people win, and off to the side, in the shadows, some people lose.”

it takes two to tango (and to give a certain Spider-Kid ‘The Talk’) -- “Come on, kid,” Tony breathes, accepting that this is his life now, “the sooner you ask the question the sooner we both get out of this special form of hell.”

back to the future past -- “Past Tony has come to expect their company, and even though he doesn’t know if time travel is something they should really be messing with, he’s really never been able to say no to his kids.”

prompt: birthday cake -- “The problem, however, is that it becomes a tradition: Peter Parker gets chocolate-coconut batter on the ceiling and all over his face. And every year, Tony chokes down a slice of the death cake just to see the kid smile.”

from one father to another -- “Scott almost didn’t do it.After all, a man who moved his family to the middle of nowhere is probably a man that wants to be left alone.”

the proposal -- “You’re a hopeless romantic, you know. A balcony, really? Don’t think I didn’t catch that reference.” Pepperony.

AC/DC -- “I’m warning you, kid, fun and games aside—you do not, under any circumstances, disrespect that song in this house.”

for the next Tony Stark -- [not really a fic, but kinda reads like one]

you’re here, there’s nothing I fear (and I know that my heart will go on) -- “Because if he was a sinking ship then she was the captain. Maybe the damage was too deep this time and he couldn’t be saved. She’d still do everything in her power to get him to float again.” Pepperony.

lean on me (and I’ll help you carry on) -- “When Rhodes finds out he’s living with Tony Stark, he thinks it’s a joke. One thousand, four hundred and twenty-eight incoming freshman, and he gets paired up with the prepubescent heir to Stark Industries?” James Rhodes & Tony Stark.

suit up -- “…and before you get any ideas, you’d be a junior groomsman, so no open bar and definitely no bachelor party, but for all the other stuff… well, I’d like you to be there.”

next time, you ride with me -- “For just a moment, he wants to let his best friend will carry him home -- again -- and believe everything will be okay.”

we’re in the endgame now -- [again, not really a fic, but kinda reads like one.]

Spider-Man: FFH deleted scene -- “Ms. Potts?” he calls down from the landing, gripping Morgan tighter in his arms, “w-what do you mean, ‘we need to keep him out of the city?’”

dialogue posts & incorrect quotes:

(warning: most of these are so short I debated even putting them here)

Karen’s namesake

Your name is what now?

I’ve had an epiphany.

You ate a banana?!

Peter Parker’s Intervention

Itsy Bitsy Avenger

Pour some sugar on me (except it’s salt and it’s in my coffee)

Tony’s Code Red

He could be stabbing me, and I’d still be proud of him.

Jurassic Park

Gullible

#masterlist #fics

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thundrpilot · 5 years

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Marvel Fic Rec 6/∞

Marvel Fic Recs: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a link for the entire Masterlist. ( ** = favorites )

Elevator Fics Are My Favorite by taylor_tut

Word count: 1,589 (1/1)

Summary: Fury sends Tony home sick, but a power outage traps him in an elevator with Clint, instead. They have a bit of a heart to heart.

**All The leaves Are Brown (And the sky is gray) by AvocadoLove

Word count: 17,424 (11/11)

Summary: The Winter Soldier's mission is nearly complete. Howard and Maria Stark are dead, leaving him to dispatch their four-year-old child. One quick twist of the neck is all it will take, but the Soldier finds he cannot do it.

So instead of killing Tony Stark, the Winter Soldier takes him away to raise as his own.

Comments: Dad!Bucky ftw. I love on-the-run fics, just the right combination of action, codependency, and protectiveness.

**Astronomy In Reverse by pansley

Word count: 146,781 (20/25)

Summary: A year after the Winter Soldier failed his mission in DC, Bucky Barnes is doing his best to stay under the radar from both Hydra and Steve Rogers. His hope for a peaceful day-to-day life in limbo goes awry, however, when he meets Queens’ newest hero; a pure-hearted kid with a death wish and a ridiculous pair of red and blue pajamas.

The last thing Steve expects when he finally tracks Bucky down is that, not only has the man been living in Queens all this time, right under his nose, but also that, in the two years since they last saw each other, Bucky somehow acquired a kid.

Alternatively: How Peter Parker effectively fucks over Bucky Barnes, and also totally saves him.

Comments: Oh hey another Dad!Bucky fic. Part 1 in the Winter!Dad series. I hoard codependency fics.

Mistake on the Part of Nature by idiopathicsmile

Word count: 1,274 (1/1)

Summary: Steve takes in Bucky's betrayed look and Sam's confusion, follows Sam's gaze to the pile of mangled fruit in the trash can. Sudden comprehension fills his face.

"Oh," he says. "Bucky found out about bananas."

In which an American icon is mourned. But probably not the one you're thinking of.

Comments: Bananas were very different in the 1940′s - a completely different species, in fact.

**this city bleeds its aching heart by Renne

Word count: 34,537 (5/5)

Summary: The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.

‘til you come to me by radialarch

Word count: 4,978 (1/1)

Summary: “I’ll do it,” Steve says. “I’ll marry Bucky.”

(It’s because of the Russians.)

Comments: Steve marries his best friend to prevent to prevent Bucky from being extradited.

Taken by Shi_Toyu

Word count: 4,360 (1/1)

Summary: Bucky knew about Steve and Tony's relationship before he ever moved into the tower. Steve had been very open about his marriage... Bucky just hadn't expected it to be like this.

Comments: Stony fake-marriage, Pre-WinterIron (don’t worry, no cheating). Also, literally everything from this author is amazing. Go forth, my friends.

**Gone by nonna

Word count: 57,511 (22/22)

Summary: In the final fight scene of Captain America Civil War, Tony's helmet breaks off the armour after the relentless clashing it receives.

What if the harsh hits to his head create serious complications for Tony, and he loses his sight?

Comments: Pre-pairing, and open to interpretation as to whether it will eventually be WinterIron or IronPanther. Also, I like how Wanda is a good bro in this one - so many fics are Wanda-bashing so this was a fresh take.

started out with a kiss by rachelweasley

Word count: 11,270 (1/1)

Summary: “Not to mention I’m out of practice. Haven’t really kissed anyone in a couple of decades.”

The revelation was weirdly satisfying to Steve. Before he could stop himself he blurted out, “Well, let me know if you want help with that.”

Or: Five times Steve and Bucky kissed, and the one time they finally talked about it.

Comments: Platonic kissing between two pals (but is it really).

**Me through Him to You by sahiya

Word count: 18,438 (6/6)

Summary: “You’re sick, you need someone to look after you. This mission could take a couple of days, and I want you in one piece when I get home.”

Tony sighed. “Why do you care?”

Steve’s mouth twisted unhappily. “I hope that’s the fever talking.” He stepped closer. “When I get home,” he said, so quietly that Tony didn’t think even the nosiest of their nosy friends could hear it, “we’re going to talk, all right? Until then, please let Bucky look after you. Consider it me looking after you, through him.”

Comments: Eventual OT3 Stuckony. Part 1 of Me through Him to You series. Watch out though, Part 2 (Bed of Nails) is pure, unadulterated ANGST.

**Carrier by just_another_tinker

Word count: 48,584 (14/14)

Summary: Tony swept his gaze over the jacket. It was well used, heavily worn down, but not in a bad way. The fabric felt softened over years of use, and the slight discolorations seemed to suit it. Tony could see the marks left over from the previous owners. A small patch, sewn perfectly in neat little stiches on the inside breast pocket screamed of Steve’s steady hands, while the fraying on tails remained as evidence of Bucky’s impatient tugging.

Or, Steve and Bucky gift Tony with their jacket that survived from the 1940's.

Turns out that wasn't the only thing that survived.

Comments: Sickfic, lots of angst. OT3 Stuckony.

Prayers in Hallways by Ranni

Word count:

Summary: "Why is he acting like this?" "It's the fever," Bruce assures him, but bites at his thumbnail the way he does when he is worried. "The blood test came back fine. I don't really know. I've told you guys a hundred times, I'm not that kind of doctor." "It hit so fast," Steve says. "I mean, this morning he was acting perfectly normal." Bruce just shakes his head and shrugs helplessly.

Comments: Sick!Clint. This fic demonstrates why vaccinations are important (the answer is herd immunity and also so you don’t die). Vaccinate ya kids!

**Press Conference by taylor_tut

Word count: 1,547 (1/1)

Summary: Tony takes a hit harder than he thinks, and doesn’t know it until he’s bleeding internally at a press conference.

Comments: I love fics where the team worries over Tony. He deserves it.

Marvel Fic Recs: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a link for the entire Masterlist.

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