#or what if jack and bruce were together during no mans land

[damianbugs]

thoughts on bruce x jack drake?

hello anon apologies for the late reply but when i first received this ask i immediately assumed there was a leak in mine and @plutoslvr messages because we were literally talking about it about two seconds beforehand. i could barely sleep that night.

my thoughts are that old man yaoi is so enjoyable when it's just slightly ridiculous and entirely impossible. there are three ideal sections of the brujack ship (enjoyed by population NO ONE, apparently, but with our combined efforts i imagine we can spark this flame):

rivals to lovers

bruce wayne vs wanting to bone people who want him dead

doomed by the narrative

1. rivals to lovers.

bruce and jack competing in the worlds most intense "who is the best average-leaning-towards-okay dad" battle. trying to outperform in casual "okay dad" actions to win "okay dad" points from tim, something that is totally normal and entirely possible (jack is always in the lead and bruce has not yet realised that he will never overtake him).

this one is so fucking funny to me. silly events such as them fighting on who gets to take tim to his school events, comprising on taking turns (for tim's sake, not because they want to) or attending them together (the pta now think bruce wayne and jack drake are in a relationship). jacks like im taking tim to the skate park and bruce is like well i told tim i'd take him to lunch — now it's bruce and jack taking their kid to the park then lunch together and the paparazzi have no idea how to headline this.

i imagine eventually tim can't handle this truly bizarre tension filled dynamic anymore so he cancels last minute and bruce and jack are like, well, we've already booked a table at this super expensive restaurant AND that cool movie afterwards, so we might as well make use of them.

at some point the "i HAVE to one up the other guy to impress my son" becomes "i HAVE to one up the other guy to impress our son AND so he realises how i'm obviously a catch"

i imagine eventually when they form some sort of established relationship ("do not call me your damn boyfriend, bruce, are we fifteen?") the rivalry doesn't really stop, but it's far more fond and well, tim's just glad he doesn't need to set aside two days a week to make sure he spends time with each of them.

2. bruce wayne vs wanting to bone people who want him dead

now we all know bruce's ideal type is someone who is either a) actively a danger to his life or b) was at some point more inclined to being a danger in his life or a secret third thing that is c) would become a danger to his life if pushed slightly in that direction. we've no time to psychoanalyse this but it's hardly a point that needs to be explained after taking a look at his long list of exes.

now, after this, is it truly out of the realm of possibility that after jack drake finds out that bruce wayne is the fucking batman and is to partly blame for tim's dangerous life choices he stomps over to the man's house and threatens to SHOOT HIM, that bruce wants him carnally. my exact words when reading this scene was "rather reservedly, i imagine this level of foolish and almost stupid bravery impressed bruce, regardless if it it was for entirely unselfish reasons on jack's part or if it was genuinely out of care for tim" i then say "i also think this would have moved bruce, emotionally, figuratively, poetically, sexually WOAH"

we all know that canonically when bruce falls in love or becomes even slightly interested in someone, he goes STUPID and impulsive. he's sending jack rare artefacts and really specific gifts and throwing galas with the sole purpose of inviting jack all without even considering that is actually not a normal response to have after someone threatens to kill you. perhaps he doesn't even realise this is something more than just paranoid obsession, and he tries to rationalise it like "i'm only trying to convince him to come with me to the museum so i can work out what kind of person he is in casual date settings and also to kiss him WAIT"

this one is funny if jack is just not interested at all and he's like okay what the fuck what kind of mind games is this guy trying to pull. tim is your mentor trying to tell me something through the purchase of these front seat opera house tickets and tim is like i can't believe this is real life i hope this is all a nightmare this can't be happening to me. bruce is hopelessly infatuated and jack is like don't think i won't file a restraining order against you BATMAN.

or it can get funnier if jack is like I WONT FALL FOR YOUR SEDUCTION TECHNIQUES BATMAN (proceeds to fall for batman's seduction techniques).

bonus alfred is actively praying on jacks downfall (canon) and is experiencing war flashbacks when bruce begins to display lovesick behaviour

3. doomed by the narrative

now as you may have noticed most of these work before the bright red alarm that is JACK DRAKE'S TRAGIC DEATH. his death in and of itself is already so sad, because he was changing, he was better and tim was so close to having everything he wanted, and jack was truly hopeful to be present and good to his son.

if we now throw in the mix of this shortlived romance, wherein canon bruce is already swamped with guilt about janet's death and feels as though he OWES it to tim to save jack as well, it becomes all the more heartbreaking. i would actually change nothing about how it happened in canon. jack still leaves that phone call for tim, tim and bruce still race to get to him, tim still finds his father's dead body and bruce still holds tim away from the corpse.

because the best part about this potential relationship is that it is born from the shared want to look after tim. it's what connects them and what causes any sort of interaction between them. so even at this point, bruce's first priority is tim, because it will always be tim first, but also because that is what jack would have wanted from him.

just another love for bruce to hide in his heart, let it consume and damage him, let it make him colder and harder to approach, another layer on this already unbreakable foundation. it probably causes problems between tim and bruce, for the sake of mourning but not reacting and simply because loss can make people very unkind. bruce's guilt is now more than just what he already feels for somehow failing tim, but also for not being able to save someone he loves, again.

OR jack lives au and bruce is even MORE obsessed and insufferable about it and tim literally has to help his own dad break out of the manor because batman is holding jack hostage (bedrest for almost dying).

or we have our obligatory bruce wayne "I almost lost you, so now im going to push you away for both our sake" arc to which Jack drake probably threatens to shoot bruce again and then they do it silly HAPPY ENDING EVERYONE GO HOME

[newmusicradionetwork]

The Americans “Stand True”

Every few years, musicians arrive on the scene with an undeniably fresh approach to a tried-and-true genre. Showcasing this with unparalleled proficiency is the acclaimed Los Angeles-based Americana band The Americans. Upon hearing Stand True the band’s forthcoming 11-song, sophomore studio LP (out May 6 via Loose Music) it’s evident why revered producer T Bone Burnett raved, calling them, “genius twenty-first century musicians that are reinventing American heritage music for this century. And it sounds even better this century.” The title track and album opener, “Stand True,” showcases the group’s riveting grip on storytelling, dynamics and melodic hooks that leave listeners cemented to their speakers. Patrick Ferris (vocals/guitar), Jake Faulkner (bassist) and Zac Sokolow (guitarist) collide to deliver a moving collection that lands somewhere between Bruce Springsteen, John Mellencamp and Nathaniel Rateliff. Following their 2017 debut album, I’ll Be Yours, The Americans took a step back, regained focus, and went into Big Bad Sound studios in Los Angeles to carve out an album of material that “is more our own than ever before,” the band confirms. The overall touchstone of Stand True, which the band self-produced, is devotion in the face of loss. And with that, the album’s sophomore single, “Born With A Broken Heart,” solidifies that concept as it showcases an edgier side to the band; a gritty ode to the way romantically wounded people sometimes find one another. “Driving home from gigs, Zac would tune into a Navajo AM radio station out of Window Rock, AZ,” recalls Patrick. “Parts of the song came from some of that music. It feels like driving through Los Angeles at night.” It was sometime in the 1970s, a decade before front man Patrick Ferris and bassist Jake Faulkner were born, that their mothers met on a train to Woodstock. Patrick and Jake met as children, but they lived in different cities and saw very little of one another before reconnecting in high school. They got along immediately through their joy for busking (street performing), and pre-war American country and blues. “Nobody I knew liked the same music,” recalls Patrick. Jake came to San Francisco from Los Angeles to visit, bringing his guitar and baskets of recording gear. They spent that summer recording homeless street musicians with a mobile unit they lugged around the city, making copies of the recordings for the performers to sell. Guitarist Zac Sokolow had dropped out of high school and was busking on the streets while working construction in Los Angeles when Jake saw him playing guitar. Jake convinced him to move in and start a band. They spent years digging through obscure records and arcane field recordings, teaching themselves the banjo, fiddle, mandolin, harmonica, and slide guitar. Patrick calls this long immersion, during which he created and hosted a radio show, a “purist” phase. “We were suspicious of modern rock music,” he says. “When we got together and formed a band, we had to make everything from scratch. We had no template. There was no band we wanted to be like. We were curious if we could create something brand new, summoning the spirit of old blues and country through what we’d learned firsthand, leaving nostalgia behind.” “We write our songs inside-out,” says Patrick. “We grab hold of something minuscule and primitivea simple turn of phrase or an unusual beatand try to build a song around it. It’s inefficient, and hard to write words over, but it’s magical when it works.” The band’s distinctive, powerful works have captured the attention of a number of stars. They’ve backed Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams, Ashley Monroe, and Devendra Banhart, and twice joined Ryan Bingham on national tours. They worked closely with Jack White and T Bone Burnett, joining Nas, Elton John, and Alabama Shakes in the PBS primetime series American Epic. Their live show, honed over many hundreds of performances, is something to behold. Ron Wray (No Depression) writes, “they’re led by lead singer, guitarist Patrick Ferris, looking like James Dean but even better…Jake Faulkner, with his dark black beard and jaunty hat, dances across stage, lifting his stand-up bass like a dancing partner.” Steve Wildsmith (Daily Times) admires their “anthemic guitar hooks and a heartland sense of urgency that’s tailor made for road trips and late-night parties beneath a field of brilliant stars.” The band’s first tour was different from most. A friend who’d introduced them to Robert Frankwhose collection of photographs inspired the band’s namewas appointed drummer. He was allowed to play with only a plywood suitcase, which he beat with a soup spoon. The band set off on a meandering, quixotic odyssey that found them playing honky-tonks, rural bars, a Navajo radio station, and a wine cellar in an abandoned Coca-Cola bottling plant. Some of the venues hadn’t hosted a live band since the 1980s. “We had a passport to the hidden heartland of our country,” recounts Jake. “What you learn exploring the nooks and crannies of any place, but especially this country, is that there’s no type of person.” Zac adds that “stereotypes break down at the individual level. What makes American music great is the same thing that makes America greatpeople who come from all over the world, each with a story, each with something to contribute.” Additional Artist/Song Information: Artist Name: Americans Song Title: Stand True Publishing: HIGH WATER MUSIC Publishing Affiliation: ASCAP Album Title: Stand True Record Label: The Americans Read the full article

[forestlingincorporated]

I wanna talk about Janet Drake

I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People. 

That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them. 

And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent. 

So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.) 

When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction. 

Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children. 

To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically. 

However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation. 

In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear. 

I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect. 

Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?) 

This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but... 

This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7. 

That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.

(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.) 

Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics. 

By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two. 

Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about. 

Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural. 

Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries. 

And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance. 

Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other. 

I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent. 

That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart. 

God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist. 

Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well. 

As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child. 

From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive. 

Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you. 

Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt. 

After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh... 

Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating? 

Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting. 

Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t. 

The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so. 

I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet. 

And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”

And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom. 

I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought. 

[seiya234]

and all the trees of the field will clap their hands, 1/?

oh hey look a new multi-chaptered fic. as always, I blame @marypsue.  Very important note! This particular chapter is rated R for some gentle descriptions of married middle aged people having sex in the woods. If you want to skip that, it is in the last third of the chapter and has mostly little to do with the plot. 

---

There are three ways this story begins: the short way, the medium way, and the long way.

—————————————

The short way was one day in the dying days of autumn, Stan got a call from Ford, who was on the Atlantic right now and headed towards New Jersey and

“Have the children ever been to New Jersey? To Glass Shard Beach?”

Stan adjusted the phone in the crook of his shoulder while he began to stir the bowl of Stancakes he was making, and coughed without covering his mouth.

“I think Mark took the twins when they were, fuck, six? The kids though? Never.”

“Well. I would love to see you.”

(In this universe do Stan and Ford share the ease and togetherness of other, more canon realms? No- their paths met for but a year or two before diverging again. But there was no anger, no bitterness, no sorrow in their parting, and a good relationship is still a good relationship.)

“Me too.” An idea hatched in Stan’s mind.

“When did you say you’d be in harbor again?”

---

“I have a proposition for you kiddo.”

“And I get frightened when you start using five dollar words old man.” Dipper laid down a three card book of jacks.

“Yeah yeah yeah. Look, this year’s been fucking trash right?”

Dipper thought about it. Then he thought about it again. The kids had turned 15....and then in the year following, Willow almost died, Henry became something Eldritch and Unknowable, Willow killed a grown woman, Henry was kidnapped, and they started teaching the kids how to drive.

Their 16th birthday party, while still having some of that patented Pines (mabel) Madness, was noticeably a little more subdued and scaled down than it probably would have been.

“Ford’s coming to Glass Shard right after Christmas, and since the kids don’t have to go back until middle of January, we were thinking-“

Stan laid down a run, a 4-5-6 of hearts off of Dipper’s 7-8-9. “Why don’t you and me take the kids to see Ford?”

Dipper’s brow furrowed. “You and me- what about Mabel and Henry?”

“I was thinking that maybe they’d like some time.” Stan raised an eyebrow. “Alone Dipper.”

Dipper raised his hands defensively. “Hey! I didn’t show up for their honeymoon or anything.”

“Yeah cookie for you. And when was the last time they had more than two days alone? Uninterrupted? By the kids or you?”

“Uh.” Dipper thought about it. Then he blushed. “Uh.” He drew a card.

“Exactly.” Stan laid down a book of aces, and discarded his last card, going out. “I’ll call Ford, you tell the kids.”

“What about Mabel and Henry?”

Stan snorted. “They said yes before I could finish.”

——————————————-

The long way this story begins is in 1866, when a callow and cruel young man with a trunk of grey clothes and a bloody saber inside landed in the newish state of Oregon to start a new life.

What is this young man’s name? I could tell you, but quite frankly he was a hateful piece of shit, so I’d rather not.

Here’s what you need to know about him.

He was the bosom friend of Nathaniel Northwest- they had fought side by side in the same regiment, and when the young man needed somewhere to run fast, it was Nathaniel who promised to smooth the way in return for working for him- he was strong, right? And Nathaniel knew he wasn’t adverse to rousting out some trash.

He was handsome. He towered over almost everyone in town, arms and legs draped with muscle, beautiful blonde hair, all of his teeth, and a smile that never reached his blue eyes.

And no one ever told him no. 

He was loved by girls who didn’t know better, and enjoyed by women who knew to keep him at arms’ length. He was offered many favors, and he took advantage of each and every one. 

A few times those favors ended with squalling, squealing piglets, red and angry and helpless. And the young poacher would take them from the homes of his cast off swains, promising to deliver the babe to a cousin’s farm the next county over, to a man running a tavern who needed the help, to a childless spinster he had heard about...

He took them to a pit he had in the forest, where he tossed them in and then covered them in dirt until the squealing stopped. 

Mayhap some one suspected. But he was handsome and the friend of the town founder.

And no one ever told him no. 

A fan of taking things out of season was our young man. In his hut he scalped the fur from foxes with dugs still full of milk and bear cubs that hadn’t even had the time to accumulate fat to use. The corpses of deer laid out back, the meat rotting on the corpse while the young man only desired the antlers for his home. The little corn he bothered to plant withered on the stalk, choked by weeds in an un-hoed field. 

It should go without saying of course that any pigs or cows or horses he found wandering, branded or not, soon became his cattle. For the Huntsman took what he pleased and did what he wanted. He ate and drank and killed and fucked 

And no one ever told him no. 

Until one day when he ran into the Corduroy girl in the woods. 

The men at the tavern told him to be wary of Etta Corduroy; she had a way of riling up their wives and giving them ideas. Nathaniel Northwest told him to be wary of Etta Corduroy; she had been talking with his loggers, giving them ideas. And his current swain told him to be wary of Etta Corduroy; for she spent far too much time alone in the woods.

(they called her a witch. and since this was gravity falls, they were right.)

But still when the young man saw her gathering mushrooms near his hut, he went to her. But still his hand strayed to her breasts when she rebuffed him. But still he grabbed her throat when she tried to scratch him, tried to run away.

Because no one ever told him no.

Not if they knew what was good for them. 

So it was to his great surprise that when Etta Corduroy managed to get a hand on his chest, and spat out some unknowable word, that the world itself told him no.

It felt like a horse kicked him in the chest. It felt like the blood in his veins suddenly turned into boiling steam. Every cut he had ever gotten on his skin suddenly opened up, every muscle in his body seized up going rock hard and rigid, and it was hard to breathe, it was hard to see, it was hard to do anything at all except to fall down on the ground and writhe in pain as Etta ran away. 

She ran away and she left him there. She left him there, bleeding and screaming and sobbing, covered in blood and spit, piss and tears, raining down from his body to feed the earth below him, the pit that he had tossed so many bodies in before. 

Perhaps in his final moments the cruel callow youth should have been scared. But what he was instead was incandescently angry, because these were his woods, his to do with what he wanted, his his HIS-

And no one, ever, ever, told him no.

It was as his breath was growing shallow, as a disconcerting amount of deer began to circle around him, that he noticed the bright yellow triangle floating above him.

“... what?”

“WHOOPSIE CHAMP! LOOKS LIKE THAT WITCH DID A NUMBER ON YOU!”

“that... that...that bitch.”

“PERSONALLY I THINK THERE’S BETTER THINGS TO DO WITH ORGANS THAN EXPLODE THEM BUT THAT’S NOT WHY I’M HERE.”

The Huntsman coughed up more blood. It launched up in the air before splattering all over his face.

“YEESH. GROSS. SO YEAH, CAN’T SAVE YOUR LIFE. BUT I CAN OFFER YOU SOMETHING EVEN BETTER!”

“What.... what would it cost me?”

“ONLY THE LOW LOW PRICE OF YOUR SOUL! BUT DON’T WORRY! AS LONG AS YOU D̀O ̡W͠H͝A͟T I̢ ͜ŚAY̢ , I’LL NEVER COME TO COLLECT!”

“What do you want?”

“I’VE GOT SOME BIG PLANS FOR THIS TOWN- NEVER YOU MIND WHAT- AND I COULD USE AN ENFORCER.”

“And-?”

“AND THESE WOODS WOULD BE YOURS BUCKO! YOURS TO DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO!”

No one ever told him no.

“Deal.”

--

Roadkill County, as it eventually became to be named, was always mostly forest. Even after a century and a half of logging, the forest remained, endured, survived.

But.

But there were always parts of the forest that were stripped bare.

There were parts of the forest where the Corduroys, noted by all and sundry to be the finest woodspeople in the state, refused to go.

There were parts of the forest where children would enter and never be seen again.

This is what Bill offered the Huntsman.

(for he was no longer the Callow Callous Youth, and he was certainly no longer Bruce Wilder)

The forest was the Huntsman’s to do with as he pleased, though he could only be corporeal during the light of the full moon-

(A CONVIENENT PLOT HOLE, I KNOW KID, BUT LOOK, YOU’RE DEAD, WORK WITH ME HERE)

But during that time he could hunt and do as he pleased. Meat could pass his lips, his arrows would hit true, and any person that crossed his path was his to toy and play with until they broke. 

And to help him do his bidding....and to amuse him when he was bored and intangible, the Huntsman was gifted with the souls of the pit, tiny mewling creatures finally turned to some purpose-

(SO THESE ARE YOUR BASIC LEVEL GHOULS POWERED BY FORSAKEN CHILDREN; I ADJUSTED THE SETTINGS SO YOU CAN PLAY WITH WHAT THEY CAN DO. SERIOUSLY, GO NUTS.)

-for they were his hounds in the hunt, they could harrow and harm his prey and in turn he had something he could hunt on the nights when the full moon was absent. 

There was only one hard rule, and that was he could never, ever leave the forest that surrounded Gravity Falls.

(”Why..?” His vision was fading but before whatever happened, he just... he just needed to know-

“YOU KNOW I DON’T NORMALLY ANSWER QUESTIONS FOR FREE,” the triangle said, twirling a cane that came out of nowhere. “BUT LETS JUST SAY THERE’S THINGS IN THIS FOREST THAT COULD INTERFERE WITH MY PLANS. AND I THINK YOU’LL DO SOME GOOD WORK HERE KID. JUST DO AS I SAY AND N̤̪̦̖̥͡ͅͅE͏͖̹̫̬V̬̼̼Ḛ̛̳͓R̯̥͕͖̬ ͉̝̼̟̮͢L͔̪E̝̳͔͟A̻̟͕̝̥̖͞V̶͈̗E̛̝.”

Well. It still seemed like he was coming out on top here.)

However, eventually the thrill of the chase paled, eventually rumors of his presence spread and both the human and non-human inhabitants of Gravity Falls learned to avoid the forest at the full moon. 

He turned to playing with his Beasts, growing crueler and crueler the more his boredom grew.

Yet despite his ennui, there was one other thing that kept the Huntsman in the forest, deal or no deal. For this is what the callous young man had found out after he had died.

There was no heaven.

There was no hell.

There was just life, endless, endless, endless rounds of life.

(some would marvel at the endless chances, endless possibilities for beauty and love and good food and song but we have already established that the callous young man was not that kind of person) 

However.

Within this cycle were also the times in between.

The times where potentially very very angry people would be waiting for you. 

So he waited, and hunted, and feasted, and waited.

And one day Bill was gone, and the deal was off, and that should have been it for the Huntsman but instead of dissipating he only felt himself grow more powerful. 

For the Huntsman had so long existed independent of Bill’s plans (indeed he never saw the triangle again), had established over a century of terror a reputation, that the knowledge of his story and the raw power of the Transcendence released some of the bonds on him and his Beasts. No longer were they bound by the light of the full moon. Though they still could not leave the forest, now his prey was limitless.

He had gotten perhaps a week or two of finally being able to live again when he was cornered by the Multibear. 

“I always wanted to fell you,” the Huntsman said, his Beasts snapping and slavering at his heels. 

The Multibear did not leap to his bait. “This is your warning Huntsman.”

“Warning?” The Huntsman lifted his arm, to show his newest acquisition, a coat of red caps, some still crusted with dried blood. “I am tireless. I am deathless. And you are my prey. What warning could you possibly give me?”

“I am warning you now; refrain from killing the sentient creatures of this forest, focus your sick attentions on the deer and rabbits.”

“Or else what?”

One of the Multibear’s heads smirked. “Surely, you are aware that a new demon arose in Bill’s place?”

The Huntsman rolled his eyes. “And what of it? He’s but a mere stripling. And he and his sister have never run into me, never heard of my story.”

“Have you considered that what Bill gave you, Alcor could take away?”

“That is just wishful thinking.”

The Multibear turned- turned! exposing his back!- away, with one head saying over his shoulder, “Look inside of yourself. Dwell. And you will find that it is the truth.”

The Huntsman paused. He stood still for a solid minute.

Then the blood drained from his face.

Okay. 

Okay, he could handle this. 

He just needed to wait until Alcor stopped living in Gravity Falls, moved out of that shack that the Mad Man built and the Con Man ran.

(the Con Man had once shot the cap off of his head as he had approached his shack. The Huntsman swore vengeance... he was just going to get to it. Eventually.)

The Huntsman waited. And waited. And waited.

For no one ever told him no. 

Until one day one of his Beasts brought him news of a deal it had overheard. 

A deal whereupon Alcor would be gone for two weeks, sworn by his power and blood to do so. 

The Huntsman, who was still obviously a colossal piece of shit, had unfortunately learned patience. And cunning. And dark magic.

He had a plan to make the forest truly his. A plan to make Gravity Falls his.

And from there well.

With his power, and the power he hoped to take, who knew where a bright, callous and callow youth could go from here? 

---

The medium way this story begins is on day three of the Super Awesome Second Honeymoon No Kid Vacation. 

Days one and two were scrubbing the house top to bottom. It was boring but the kids and Stan and Dipper were going to be gone for two weeks. Two! Weeks!!! Mabel thought it best to get the boring stuff out of the way first, to best optimize their time for smoochin, shenanigans, and sparkle spaghetti night.

So Henry lifted Mabel up so she could clean the gutters, and he mopped the whole house. She scrubbed the tubs and he fixed the basement door. They trimmed some tree limbs, changed the oil in the cars, put the zipline up for the winter, and all the other little things that needed doing but got lost in the hustle of raising three teenagers and running a small business and brokering peace amongst the gnome clans.

(Mabel could have asked for Dipper to do any or all of this for a price. And while some of it was a reluctance to rely on your magic brother for everything, more of it was just plain forgetting in the day to day of life.) 

But now the chores were done, and Mabel could spring her plan into action!

Step one!

“Heyyyyy Henry.... can you put this blindfold on please?”

Henry put down his newspaper-

(oof the things she loved most about him was his hands. They were almost comically oversized, even for a man as tall as him. Beautiful pianist fingers, a long, elegant palm, and between the two a truly astounding dexterity.)

-and asked, “How long will I have to have it on?”

Mabel thought about where step two was. “Uh, twenty five to thirty minutes while we walk?”

“Can we maybe put it on right before the surprise?”

Okay that was fair. And walking through the woods blindfolded was probably a bad idea? Yeah, it probably was.

“Okay!”

Step two! 

She had Henry kneel down so that she could actually put the blindfold on. She shivered as he was for once shorter than her, shivered as her hands tied the thick scarf around his eyes and her hips bumped into his back. Shivered as she helped him back up and took his hand. 

She could not wait for this.

Step three! 

Initially she was going to use their regular tent but Mabel was worried that if she had Henry kneel down it would give the game away so she had prepped a small pavilion tent instead, with the flap already open.

“Are we almost ready?” Henry asked.

“Mmmm hmmm,” Mabel answered, quickly taking off her sweater and skirt. She had spent a whole month crocheting lingerie for this. 

She was about to tell him to take off the blindfold, and then she paused.

She put back on her skirt, and instead took her husband into a gentle hug.

“You can take it off now.”

He took it off.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“This is just.... outside?”

Mabel grinned. “I’ve always wanted to.”

Her grin faltered. “If that’s... if that’s okay? 

There was a pause. And then Henry lifted her up, making her squeak like every time he did that. He brought his mouth to hers. And that was all the answer she needed.

Step four! 

What Mabel had dreamed about, from the moment her husband had become born again into someone new, someone not quite human, was this moment. She wanted him to pin her down with not only his arms (stronger, far stronger than they used to be) but with vines that sprang from the ground. She wanted to grab onto his antlers as she rode him into ecstasy. She wanted the earth to bloom around him, to trail her finger up and down his skin and see mushrooms bloom from her fingertips. 

What happened instead was that they had some very pleasant but very normal sex, except it was on the ground and the ground was kind of hard. 

She...

Well poop Mabel. Way to go and Mabel it up all over again. 

They both were still sweaty and panty, but Mabel reached out to begin putting her clothes back on; this... didn’t go quite like she expected. 

“Thank you honey. That was a lot of fun,” Mabel said, super casually and hopefully not betraying the turmoil roiling within her.

Henry smiled. “Of course.”

(he hoped that Mabel hadn’t noticed that the Woodsman had almost come out once or twice; it was being outside and he wanted to break free, to test his strength against hers, to grow new life in these woods and no-) 

They finished getting dressed and stepped out of the tent and

Mabel froze.

“Mabel?”

Inwardly, Mabel began to curse at herself for not bringing her bat. 

“Henry...” She looked around at the heavy fog around them both, sensed the deep knowledge that they were far from where she had led them, knew to her bone that the path home was concealed.

“I think I goofed.” 

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

hey everybody, how are we all doing? I’m sorry that it’s been a few days since I’ve posted but with everything going on in the world I haven’t been feeling up to anything lately. Everything going on in this country right now is just making me sad, disappointed and angry but I’m not here to talk politics or whatever you want to call it anymore. My personal accounts I have spoken out but this isn’t what this account is for so I won’t keep going. I’ll end it on that note and just say that I hope we’re all doing okay, being safe, doing the right thing, looking out for one another and speaking up.

You’re Taking Up a Fraction of My Mind pt.4

           It had been a while since Nightwing had taken to swinging throughout the rooftops of Gotham.  There was a part of him that missed it, but there was the part of him that didn’t. There was just something about being back in his home town that just made feel slightly off of his game. He didn’t want to admit it but he was out of shape, or more so out of step.

           Truthfully, he was in the best shape of his life but he didn’t take to the streets of Jump City every night like he did during his formative years in Gotham.  Jump City was relatively safe compared to Gotham. Of course they had their fair share of dangers with the random super villain here and there who was trying some end of the world or some get rich quick scheme, and also you had the occasional off world or inter-dimensional mission which was always fun. But, for the most part he’d be in bed by now or watching a movie in the common room with his teammates.

           “Having trouble keeping up?” Jason, Gotham’s new Robin, taunted, landing on the rooftop of the G.C.P.D. a few minutes before Nightwing had. He had noted how Nightwing was a few paces behind the new Dynamic Duo and couldn’t help but feel smug. “Maybe you should hang up the tights again.”

           “Look kid-,” Nightwing growled, pointing a finger at him.

           “Enough.” Batman cut them off, not giving them a chance to further start their bickering.

           He gave them a sharp glare through his cowl, daring them to make him regret allowing them to accompany him tonight. He knew the pair didn’t hit it off right away when they first met three years ago when Dick officially hung up the Robin costume and joined the Titans full time as Nightwing. Dick hadn’t taken too kindly to being replaced so quickly and especially by some street kid who had the audacity to try and steal the tires of the batmobile; Dick was always known for being, as Alfred put it, a ‘tad bit dramatic’.

           He shared a few choice words with Bruce upon hearing about Jason through Alfred. Bruce couldn’t even face Dick himself to tell him about it, Dick still scoffed about it. After all the years of servitude and comradery, it meant nothing to Bruce. Dick couldn’t help but feel bitter about it, seeing him being teamed up with someone else in a new Robin costume. Yes, he gave up the mantle of Robin, wanting to grow out of Batman’s shadow and make a name for himself. But regardless of if he gave it up or not Dick Grayson was Robin, not Jason Todd.

           Without another word coming from the two boys, Batman let out a low grumbled hum. His demeanor changed back from slightly agitated dad to the cold bat that lurked around Gotham City as night. Satisfied with their compliance, he made his way over to where Jim Gordon stood, next to the Batsignal that had been lit moment ago while the batfamily had been patrolling over Gotham.

           “I see you have a guest tonight,” Gordon nodded from his spot next to the spotlight, nodding towards Nightwing. He hadn’t seen the kid in a couple of months now and sort of missed him; his bright attitude was a good balance to the Dark Knight’s more stoic one.

           Batman let out another ‘hmm’ as response, sounding almost like a tired father with a pair of fighting toddlers.  He nodded towards the signal, “What do you have?”

           “Mail,” Gordon said reaching into his coat pocket pulling out an envelope addressed to the G.C.P.D. but the name above the address was addressed to Batman. He handed off the envelope, having already opened it and knew what was inside. “It wasn’t sealed, I took the liberty of having a peek.”

           Batman took the envelope from Gordon, pulling out the contents carefully. Inside he found five playing cards; two kings, two jokers and a 2 of spades. He inspected the cards closely, his mind already going off into full work mode to figure out their purpose. Nightwing stood to Batman’s right, eying the playing cards over his shoulder. He felt like a kid again, catching himself saying the first that came to mind, as if trying to impress the older man.

           “Joker?” Nightwing offered, causing the Batman to look at him as the he still pondered to himself.  

           Even though Nightwing hadn’t been in Gotham for a while but he still remembered how the Joker and a few of Gotham’s citizen’s gave him the title of the Clown Prince of Crime. It was pretty safe to assume with the whole two Joker card thing that it would belong to the clown, Nightwing thought. And since there was no prince card in a deck of cards, a king would suffice. It was obvious that the Joker had sent the envelope.

           “Joker’s locked up in Arkham.” Gordon said with a hint of malice, knowing that he deserved the chair but for whatever reason the justice system in Gotham wouldn’t let that day come.

           “So?” Robin cut in, with a roll of his eyes. He let out a disgruntled laugh, crossing his arms against him chest, a look of disbelief overlapped with amusement appearing on his face.  “That means jack in this city. What just happened with Zsasz?”

           “Robin.” Batman warned, his voice stern and sharp.

           He turned back to look at Nightwing after Robin gave him an apologetic look. He flipped the cards over, looking at the backside of them. The king’s had the same address written on them, same as the joker’s. Batman recognized the addresses of those belonging to two different banks.  Looking at his former protégé, he thought about his idea. It was a possibility. Joker did tend to make his stays at Arkham short in the past years.

           But simple bank robberies weren’t something he just did anymore. He’d always been unstable but the clown had seemed to be turning more volatile in his deeds in recent years. Bruce still shook when thinking about it, somewhat still in disbelief that the Joker could stoop so low. It took everything in him to not break his one rule; he’d never been that close in breaking it until that day. It’d been almost a year since then and it still haunted Bruce that he was unable to stop him. The Joker had blown up a middle school in the Narrows and it was all just for a punchline.

           “I’m just saying.” Robin raised his hands up in surrender, knocking Bruce out of his train of thought. He let a hand fall, there other than pointing to the cards Bruce held. “I don’t think it’s him.”

           “Oh yeah? And please share with the class who you think sent it then?” Nightwing quipped, rolling his own eyes now even though his masks whited out his eyes. He ignored the side glance his former mentor gave him, still looking at Robin, who apparently knew better than him.

           “I’d love to share actually,” Jason smirked, mimicking Nightwing’s stance. He didn’t like this guy one bit and didn’t appreciate how he was being talked down too. He deserved to be Robin just as much as he had. He was just as good as he was. “I think this looks like someone who we know has a thing for pairs. Not only are there two of the same type of cards, one’s literally a two. And I don’t know if you guys know anything about poker but it’s also a two-pair hand. It’s pretty obvious,”

           Dick widened his eyes, gapping to himself as Jason spoke, looking back at the cards. He saw Batman bring his hand to rest on his chin, cogs clicking and turning in his head. Nightwing bit his tongue as Batman gave Robin a ‘good work’ nod. It was pretty obvious and Nightwing hated it. He’d just been shown up by some kid. He wanted to smack the smug look right off Robin’s face as Batman told Gordon that he’d keep him updated.

           That had been their cue to head out, as Batman then put the cards in one of his utility belt pouches and reached for his grappling hook. Gordon watched as the batfamily turned to leave, grappling off into the city. Batman had landed them a few buildings away already dealing out a game plan. They’d split into two teams in order to stake out both addresses, unsure which one Two-Face would strike first. Dent had been laying low for the last couple of years and it was a little off putting that he’d want his comeback advertised to the Dark Knight before he could really pull it off.

           Dick had wished Halley was here for he started to tune Bruce out the moment he revealed that Nightwing and Robin would be paired up together. He wanted to protest, he wanted to insist that Robin belonged with Batman and Nightwing would handle himself for a night alone in Gotham. But he didn’t do any of that, instead just kept clenching his jaw tightly and grinding his teeth together as Batman turned his back to them and took off towards the direction of the bank he assigned himself too.

           Once they were alone, Nightwing looked at Robin who also had looked displeased with this arrangement. With a grunt, Nightwing leaped off the building, heading to the next rooftop, wanting to get this night over with.  When they eventually reached their location, they set up shop on the office building across the street from one of the Gotham National Bank’s branches in the Bowery. They staked out the area, looking for signs to Two-Face.

           Jason took it personally as they sat in complete silence. Halley had told him how talkative Grayson was and how doing missions with him was annoying sometimes, as the man just talked the entire time. Even with the couple of times they had hung out, like during the few times he’d come to visit and take Halley out for burgers, always giving Jason a pity invite, he noted how Dick Grayson just didn’t know how to stop talking.

           He huffed, leaning against an air conditioning unit atop the roof, pulling out his cell phone from its hiding place within his suit. He checked the time and huffed again, the boredom fully setting in now. He took his attention away from the bank again, now scrolling through his phone, debating which game to play. Deciding to play draw something, he clicked on the app. He lazily drew a lion and sent it to Halley, the only person he ever played with. He downloaded the app on her phone a while ago and occasionally the two would play during commercial breaks when they watched TV.

           He looked up from his phone as he waited for her to reply, checking to see if Dick caught him on his phone yet. He would never pull his phone out when he was with Bruce; hell, if Bruce knew he even brought his phone out on patrols he’d most likely be benched again but he just couldn’t stand here in silence with dickweed. He looked back down at his phone and away from the man he had been scorning when it vibrated. It wasn’t a notification for the game, instead, it was a text message from Halley.

           Aren’t you on patrol?

           Yea, he replied back, smirking as he continued to type. Bored and paired up with Dick. Who by the way is really living up to his name.

           He tapped his fingers against the back of his phone as he saw that she was typing. He stole another quick glance up, making sure he wasn’t caught yet. He wouldn’t put it past Dick to go ratting on him to Bruce if he did.

           Is everything okay?

           What’s he doing?        

           Where’s Bruce?

           I can talk to Dick for you…

           He rolled his eyes as she rapidly texted him back, knowing that she was probably in a frenzy on her bed wondering what happened between them. He quickly typed back, not wanting her to stress as he started to regret saying anything to her about it in the first place.  It’s cool, not a big deal. He’s just butthurt that I outsmarted him on a case we’re working on now.

            “B know you have that on you?” Jason should’ve known he’d be caught but something in him didn’t seem to care as Dick’s voice rang out. “You lose that thing or get captured and someone gets their hands on it, you’re screwed. That’s incredibly ire-,”

           “Irresponsible, yeah yeah,” Jason cut him off, waving him off with his hand before going back to read Halley’s response.  He clicked his phone off, sliding it into his hidden pocket after finishing reading over her text. It was nothing important, just telling him to stay off his phone. He rolled his eyes, pushing off the ac unit and walked towards the edge of the building where Dick stood.  

           “I get this part of the job can be boring, but you need to stay on your toes. You need to-,” Dick slacked his shoulders, over the kid’s attitude as he was cut off once again.

           “Yeah, yeah,” Jason snorted. “This isn’t my first rodeo, I’ve been doing this long enough.”

           “Clearly not.” Dick shot back, kicking the foot he had resting on the ledge to stand facing Jason face to face. He towered over the boy, having a good couple of inches on him. He peered down at him almost threateningly.

           “You made a good guess at the station, but you’re still sloppy. B’s told me about how you rush into things without thinking. You’re brash and dangerous. You’re going to get yourself hurt one of these day or worse; get someone else hurt.” Dick said, narrowing his eyes as he continued to lay it out onto the younger boy.

           Dick eyed the boy take in his words. He reacted how Dick expected, immaturely, by rolling his eyes and letting out an over exaggerated groan. Dick stood firm though, not knowing what either Halley or even Bruce saw in this kid. “You’re also disrespectful. If I talked to B the way I’ve heard you talk to him, I’d have my suit permanently taken away from me quicker than Flash can put his on. You still have a lot to learn kid.”

           “You know,” Jason started, scoffing and trying to bury Dick’s words deep. He didn’t want to show that Dick’s word’s had an impact on him but the former sidekick basically just laid out all of his insecurities right in front of him.  

           He knew Bruce wasn’t always pleased with him and his performance, but he thought he was getting better; Bruce told him in training today he was getting better.  Jason was still thrown off by the compliment and only slightly gushing over it, and he was sure as hell not going to let Nightwing bring him back down. Taking a step forward, trying to assert himself, Jason jabbed a finger into Dick’s chest continuing, “I didn’t know what you’re problem with me was until the police station and now.” Jason pulled his finger back, letting his hands fall to fists at his sides.  “You’re just jealous.”

           “You think I’m jealous?” Nightwing almost laughed, loosening his stance wanting to get comfortable as the boy nodded in confirmation.

           “No, I don’t think, I know you are.” Jason chuckled, knowing he could lay everything out just as neatly as Dick did for him. “You’re gone for months at a time; sure you come peek your head in every now and then to say hi but then you leave again. I think you realize you’re not needed here anymore and it eats you up inside.” Jason said with venom. “Gotham doesn’t need Nightwing and Batman doesn’t either. Batman and Gotham have me, Robin, not you. Hell, even Halley doesn’t need you anymore because she’s got me. You’re not needed anymore.”

           “You don’t know anything about me or her, or Bruce. You think you do, but you don’t.” Dick spat, feeling heat begin to rise in his cheeks. This kid didn’t know a goddamned thing.

           “Nah,” he smiled, taunting him now, feeling a nerve being struck in the older man as he mention Halley. “That’s where you’re wrong. You dumped her off here and have done the bare minimum to keep in contact with her. I’ve been there for her since you’ve left and it shows who she likes more and you can see that and it’s driving you crazy.”

           “Look kid,” Dick said, letting the anger get to him. He reached out grabbing Robin by the neckline of his suit, lifting him up off the ground as he pulled him closer, almost until their faces were inches apart.

           He was about to really drive it into him when the sound of tires squealing from below dragged his attention away. Still holding onto Robin, Nightwing craned his neck to look behind him and down to the street below. A van parked outside of the bank, the back door opening as a handful of guys filed out. The last one was their guy: Two-face. He jumped out of the back of the van as another pulled up next to him. He flipped his coin, Nightwing unsure as to why but assumed it wasn’t good as Two-face signaled for his now close to twenty guys to head to the doors of the bank.

           “Two-Face is at our location,” Nightwing let go of Robin, calling in Batman on his comms. He waited for Bruce to reply, preparing to grapple across to the bank.

           “Copy.” Batman’s voice cut through his ear piece. “I also have some of his men here. I’ll take care of them and head your way. Get Two-Face.”

           “Got it,” Nightwing replied, turning to face Robin to quickly try and make a plan of attack together but snarled when he saw the boy already swinging across to the next building.  This kid was going to get himself killed one day.

[evendeadlmthehero]

The Keepers (1/10): “Trick or Treat”

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Based on after the events of Avengers: Endgame and Spider-Man: FFH

Summary: The Keepers, they call themselves. Little children know them as Santa, The Easter Bunny, Leprechaun, Jack O’ Latern and you. You’re Valentine Cupid; a seducing-angel who’s good with arrows. The Keepers have been a secret for centuries, but when one member goes rogue, this forces The Keepers out of hiding and needing the help of The Avengers.

Warnings: swearing, brief mention of suicide from a family member

‘The Keepers’ Masterlist

You hummed to yourself as music played faintly against the pristine white walls of the kitchen. Your foot slowly tapped to the rhythm of the bass, your hand gently moving the strand of hair that had befallen against your face.

Today was Halloween, meaning tomorrow was Thanksgivings day. Although there was no Keeper for Thanksgivings day, as it was created by humans rather than an ancient beings, you still wanted to celebrate it with your fellow members.

So you marinaded a turkey with exotic spices before placing it in the fridge as the song ended. You smiled to yourself, wiping the sweat off your brow before checking the time.

6:42pm, the clock had read. In ten minutes, it was sundown. This had also meant Jacko would have to leave the house and come back when the clock strikes twelve.

“Time to scare some children,” you heard Jacko speak as he entered the kitchen, buttoning up his black shirt. Yes, it was Jacko Latern himself, the Keeper of Halloween and mischief. The once man probably had it the secound worse out of all of you guys.

See, Jacko was a simple man before. He was a French farmer in the 1370’s. He had died from the Black Plague at the age of 32. When he had woken up, it had came to a shock that his whole craniofacial area was a pumpkin head rather than a human one. It had taken him a while to finally accept that he will never have his human face again. You had seen photos when he was still a human, and no one could deny his irresistible boyish looks.

The person who had it the worst out of all of you, even Jacko? Osterhase Spring. Also known as the Easter Bunny. He was also a simple man, living in the poor outskirts of New York when the Great Depression hit during the 1930’s. His daughter had then fallen terribly ill so Osterhase was forced to steal medicine, but was caught in the process.

This had costed him his life. And when he had woken up? He was a two-foot tall bunny. In normal circumstances, this would have been hilarious. But his daughter had died from the illness causing his wife to take her life. The poor women thought that not only her child was dead, but so was her husband. Not knowing her husband was a full, grown rabbit, too afraid and embarrassed to show his face to his own wife.

See, none of you guys chose to be here. All of you would give anything to go back to the previous lives you lived. The one where you worked a $10 an hour job and came back to your lover waiting for you at home. But it was fate. Fate had brought you guys together. The Keepers were a family that looked out for one another. It was a family you never asked for but was glad you had.

“Easy there big boy,” you spoke with your velvety voice. You were the artist of seduction and love, of course you had an alluring presence. “You can’t just scare them. You have to give candy as well.”

“You’re always the sweet one, aren’t you Valentine?” Jacko smirked at you, his carved eyes lighting up with flames. You were always fascinated by his facial structure. How fate had given him such a detailed carved pumpkin head that was lit up with fire. It was almost poetic, really. “But then again, what did I accept from the most gorgeous women alive?”

“Stop your flirting Jacko,” you heard a gruff voice speak. Nicholas Santa entered the the kitchen, a sour and tired look in his face. This wasn’t something new. This man had been alive since light first touched the earth. He was grumpy the day he realised he was the only original keeper left. “Keepers aren’t allowed to date one another.”

“Relax Christmas,” Jacko scoffed as you awkwardly walked around them to place the spices back into the cabinets. “It’s harmless flirting. We don’t see each other like that.”

“Awe Jacko, you really broke my heart,” you looked back at him with a pout, closing the door of the cabinet. “Am I really not pretty enough for you?”

Nicholas scoffed, grabbing milk before leaving the kitchen. You laughed at the old man and his tendencies of taking jokes way too seriously. Out of all the people here, Nicholas probably was most reserved one. He didn’t get today’s customs and norms. He didn’t want to. He was still an oldie by heart.

“Well,” Jacko spoke, walking over to you before placing a kiss on your cheek. He gave you one last final look before walking backwards slowly. “It’s time for Halloween to begin. I have a feeling this is will be the greatest holiday yet.”

“That’s what you always say!” You yelled back at him as his figure started walking towards the door. “But Valentine’s Day will always be the best holiday!”

“You guys both know it’s Easter, right?” Osterhase spoke as he walked into the living room, jumping on the couch. He grabbed the remote before turning on the TV. “Kids love their chocolate eggs.”

Jacko shook his head before opening the door of the house and leaving. You walked over to the couch, stealing the remote off of Osterhase. “Hey! I was watching Grey’s Anatomy!”

“That’s boring,” you replied back, changing the channel before it landed on the news. You were going to switch channels until you realised who it was on the news.

“Many of you have been asking for months now about the status of the Avengers. I am here today to introduce the members,” a dark-skinned male had spoke into the mic. “First member is of course myself, Sam Wilson. We also have Wanda Maximoff, James Rhoudes and Bruce Banner.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you saw Bruce Banner stand behind Sam with the other Avengers on-screen. You disliked the Avengers, especially Bruce Banner. Osterhase felt your anger and grabbed your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Hey, it’s okay.”

You heard a ringing in your ear as you quickly ran. To where, you do not know. All you knew is that Earth was under attack and you needed to get out of the centre of New York City before these aliens could kill you.

You cried as you heard a loud shuttle above you, as you collapsed on the ground, letting out a scream. You were desperate to leave. You just wanted to go home. Home to your fiancé. You look up to see that it was Iron Man who had flown above you. This had gave you the hope that the Avengers were here to rescue you.

They were here to rescue you, right?

You heard footsteps near you, making you look to your left. Aliens had growled at you, pointing their weapons at you. This was it, you had thought. This was how you died. You closed your eyes, accepting your fate until you saw a green giant scream as he grabbed them and chucked them against the wall.

It was the Hulk. He had saved your life. At least, in that moment, that’s what you had thought. You had thought that the Hulk understood right from wrong, evil from good. But it turns out the monster was filled with rage, rage that cannot be tamed. Rage that had caused blindness to the eyes. The Hulk was never a hero. The Hulk was anger.

He turned around and looked at you. You had wanted to thank him. But the Hulk let out a blood curdling roar before chucking a car your way.

It happened in slow motion. You felt all the bones within you break, one by one, splinter by splinter, before you were nothing but a number on the death toll. ‘The Battle of New York’, they had called it. ‘The Avengers’ they had called them. And you? You were death number 53 out of 74. Only a hashtag on twitter for 23 days.

Your eyes had fluttered open as you took in your surroundings. You were in a little cottage home, a blanket wrapped around you. Four men surrounded you, faces grim as they had to tell you the worse news of your life. That you had died and now must claim the mantle of Cupid. That you must learn the arts of seduction and precision with arrows. That you had to leave everything behind, including the love of your life.

“Now I will introduce new members,” Sam continued to speak as you ignored Osterhase and continued watching the screen. “Here we have Peter Parker, Ant-Man, The Wasp, Queen Valkeryie, Black Panther, Carol Danvers, Dr Strange and Bucky Barnes. We will be opening a new building in San Fransisco that will generate 5,000 new jobs and decrease traffic by approximately-“

You changed the channel until you reached some random reality show. You placed the remote down as you crossed your arms together out of frustration. You didn’t get it. How the Avengers could kill so many and still be celebrated. Still be able to have their own building worth billions of dollars. How their salaries come from the pockets of taxpayers. “Hey Valentine? Are you okay?”

You nod your head yes, your tongue against your cheek. You were snapped out of your thoughts as Saint Patrick walked in with a smile on his face. “Anyone wanna play UNO?”

“Fuck off,” Osterhase spoke, grabbing the remote back to change the channel to Grey’s Anatomy again. “You always cheat.”

“I do not!” Saint spoke, his hand against his chest as if he had been offended.

“Ah yeah you do,” You spoke back, making Saint let out a scoff. “Your powers are literally to increase your odds at things going your way. You’re literally the embodiment of luck.”

“That isn’t cheating!” Saint argued back, but his small stature had not aided him in anyway. He then sighed, throwing the packet on the table. “Fine, I just wanted to spend some time with you guys.”

You watched the Leprechaun walk away, a pang of guilt consuming your body. You let out a sigh, grabbing the packed of UNO cards before chucking it on his head. You were the god of precision, of course it landed directly on his head. “C’mon Lannister, go deal the cards.”

Saint smiled excitedly, running over to deal the cards. Osterhase let out a sigh, tired of being interrupted from Grey’s Anatomy but happy to be apart of this social bonding despite not showing it. Saint dealed the cards to everyone, making sure everyone got the same number of cards before placing all the rest down.

You guys played for hours. Of course, Saint had won them all. You tried not to bring up how his powers were cheating, just happy to see him get excited and to get some family quality time with you and Osterhase. At some point, Nicholas Santa had come down to see what the fuss and yelling was about.

Only to come down to see you guys laughing and playing games. It brought a smile to the old man’s face, reminding him of the first group of Keepers. He wish he could have joined you guys, but he didn’t have it within him to suck up his pride and join in. So he left.

“Okay I think that’s enough for today,” you laughed, shaking your head as Saint had won once again. “You’re obviously the King of Uno.”

“And cheating,” Osterhase replied back, his ears falling down in dissapointment as he always came last.

“I think next game you have a chance to win,” Saint suggested, trying to lure you into another game. Osterhase scoffed, chucking the cards at Saint’s face, making you laugh. You eyes unintentionally made their way to the clock, filling with confusion when you realised that it was late and Jacko still wasn’t here.

“Guys, it’s 2AM and Jacko’s still not here,” you told them, your heart dropping to your stomach. You were worried. The person who were closest to still wasn’t home, leaving you feeling queasy. “Maybe we should look for him?”

“Awe c’mon Valentine, you know Jacko,” Osterhase spoke, leaning back on the sofa as he put one leg on top of the other. “He’s probably just showing off the little fucker.”

Osterhase then got off from the sofa and yawned. “Alright kids, I’m off to bed.”

You nodded at him, watching his retreating figure. You felt a hand grab yours as your eyes met the green one’s of a certain leprechaun. “Hey Val, maybe you should get some rest. Osterhase is right, Jacko is probably trying to make this Halloween the best holiday of the year.”

You nodded him, giving him the best smile you could muster. He smiled back, before getting up to head back to bed as well. Your smile faltered as you looked back at the time, realising how late it was. You had a bad feeling and you could tell that something wasn’t right.

So you stayed up. You stayed up all night trying to wait for Jacko to show up. 3AM, 4AM and 5AM passed, and there was still no signs of him. Your eyes were desperate to shut, but it couldn’t outweigh your desperation to ensure Jacko had made it back on time.

The sun had begun to rise, and still no sign of the pumpkin carved faced. The hope that Osterhase and Saint had enstalled onto you had begun to dim down until it was nothing but a flicker every now and then. You watched outside the window, seeing the clouds pass by slowly until they went out of your line of vision.

You heard a small bang before quiet footsteps. Out of fear, you grew your wings that hid inside your back. They were around 3 meters wide each and were covered with white feathers. Your normal clothing was also replaced with body armour, which was a white, short-gladiator-like dress. Your hair also self-braided in a way that Daenerys Targaryen herself would be jealous of.

You then pulled out the arrow and quickly pointed it towards the source of the sound. You let out a sigh when you realised it was just Saint standing there, his hands up in surrender. “You scared the hell out of me Irish.”

“I just wanted to check up on you, didn’t realise you’d armour up and try to shoot me,” Saint spoke as he watched your wings motion back inside your back and your normal clothes adorned your body once again. “And plus, lets be real. Your the best aimer in the world. But with my luck, you would’ve missed.”

“I never miss,” you spoke back as your hair fell perfectly against your face after de-suiting. You then sighed, falling back against the sofa. “You lied.”

“About what?”

“Jacko never came back,” you whispered as you felt tears well up in your eyes. They didn’t fall though. You didn’t want them to. “You said he would.”

“Valentine I-“ Saint started before he stopped himself, his eyes stopping at Osterhase and Nicholas figures. Osterhase looked disappointed whereas Nicholas was shocked as this was the first time he was hearing of Jacko’s disappearance.

It was a day of mourning. Because it was the day you lost a member. A member who did not die, because if he did there would be a new Halloween keeper, but rather just left. He left you guys without a word.

He left you without a word

1 Month and 10 Days Later

Bucky felt his phone buzz under his pillow. Groaning, the soldier pressed the power button twice to decline the call. Not even five secounds later, the phone started buzzing again. This time, Bucky picked up his phone and chucked it far away from him so that the buzzing did not disturb his sleep.

“Incoming call from Sam Wilson,” F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke, making Bucky groan once again, chucking the pillow at the wall. He was trying to get F.R.I.D.A.Y to stop talking so he could get some shut eye, obviously forgetting that F.R.I.D.A.Y is an inanimate object who cannot be hit with a pillow.

“Decline!”

“I’m afraid this is urgent Mr Barnes,” Bucky let out a sigh, brushing his now short hair back as he rubbed his eye. He was frustrated that he was deprived of sleep.

“Tin man you have 5 minutes to suit up!” Sam yelled into the phone. This had awoken Bucky, as Sam’s voice was laced with urgency. “It’s a possible Level 7 threat.”

At this news, Bucky quickly suited up. For a while now, Bucky had been dealing with Level 3-5, nothing major. Drug cartels, human trafficking and the threat of a new emergence of a disease from some wacko with an IQ of 250, is what Bucky had dealt with.

But level 7? Level 7 is a worldwide threat. The ‘world is at stake’ threat. It deals with crazy aliens from outer space, gods who think they should rule earth and robots who believe in the extinction of mankind.

Bucky quickly ran out of his room in the new San Fransisco Avenger’s tower and bolted towards the office where they usually talk battle strategies and threats. When Bucky had finally made it, Wanda, Bruce, Sam and Peter were already there.

“Now that Bucky is here, let us begin,” Sam spoke with the leadership quality that had been bestowed to him when Steve had given him the shield. “Just a minute ago, our radars detected strange weather patterns, high energy readings and a great deal of movement from civilians. Bruce and I then proceeded to look at what’s going on with satellite images.”

Live footage started playing. Bucky squinted as he saw a man in a pumpkin head, fighting with a 2-foot rabbit, an old man in a red suit, a very short man in green clothing and women in a short white dress who had wings attached to her back.

“Who are they?” Wanda spoke confusedly as she watched on. The pumpkin-headed man was shooting flames at the four individuals as civilians were desperately running away, looking for shelter.

“We don’t know,” Bruce spoke, folding his arms up. “But we shouldn’t take chances. We have a quinjet set up outside to take us to New York. We will have to arrest them and take them into questioning. Be prepared. We don’t know them. They could have powers beyond belief. We are going in blind.”

“Wait a minute,” Peter spoke, his eyes widening in realisation. “Don’t you guys get it!”

“Get what?” Sam spoke, looking at the screen to the five individuals. The women with the arrow flew up, flinging an arrow towards the pumpkin man who just used his fire to disintegrate the incoming threat.

“The old man! In a red suit! Who’s making snow!” Peter yelled, getting up from his seat. “That’s Santa! And the two-foot rabbit is the Easter bunny! Guys, everyone in this video is part of some holiday.”

“Peter you are way too imaginative for your own good,” Sam spoke, making Peter slowly back down to his seat. Sam looked back at the screen at the old man with the red suit. “You’re trying to tell me this man goes around the whole world once a year while fighting a pumpkin for the rest of the 364 days he has off?”

“I don’t know Sam, the kid’s onto something,” Wanda spoke to Sam. “I mean, aliens flying in from outer space? Magical stones? Greek gods our mothers used to read to us when we were kids? Is it hard to believe that the tales of Santa and the Easter Bunny didn’t have some truth behind it?”

Bucky’s eyes fell back onto the screen when your face had popped up. He watched as you flew and landed gracefully on two feet before trying to successfully land an arrow on the man attacking you.

His mind was on a whirlpool as he couldn’t decipher how one can be this beautiful, this elegant. You were a beauty beyond compare and your face was one that Bucky will remember for the rest of his life.

“Cupid,” Bucky whispered to himself, making all the Avengers turn towards him. He shook his head, before looking at Sam. “She’s Cupid. She’s got the blonde hair and Roman clothing. She’s got wings and her choice of weaponary are arrows-“

“And she’s hot!” Peter chimes in, but instantly quitened down as everyone started at him. His face went red as he looked down at his hands. “Sorry. Continue Mr Barnes.”

“When she shoots her arrows and it lands on the dude shooting fire, it doesn’t kill him or even cause him pain for that matter. But it does make him less inclined to kill her. And what is a Cupid’s known activity? To shoot people with arrows and trigger attraction between people,” Bucky finished before looking back at the screen. “Peter, as annoying he is, might be right about this.”

“Well whoever they are we have to arrest them,” Sam spoke, grabbing the remote to turn off the screen. “So we’re leaving now. Wanda, you’re going up against Pumpkin head and Santa Clause. Peter, you’re going up against the large rabbit and Bucky you’ll go after Miss Universe while I go take on the Mr Cabbage patch kid. Bruce, you come in if things go out of hand.”

Bruce nodded before all of the Avengers stood up, ready to leave to room and fight a battle in New York. Bucky remained in his seat, smiling at Sam. Sam looked at him confusedly as all the Avengers left the room but him. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Oh nothing,” Bucky teased, getting up from his seat before giving Sam a light punch on the arm. “Great job today Captain America.”

Sam smiled to himself as Bucky had left the room. He had a serious weight on his shoulder after being given the Mantle from Steve himself. He had faced a lot of criticism and racism from the public and the higher rank officials. But one things for sure. Sam was glad he had Bucky through all of it.

He was just hoping this mission goes smoothly and he doesn’t fail. That the Avenger’s don’t fail.

TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@xxpapasfritasxx

@evanstush

@willowtree42095

@wh1te-tsh1rt

@gracfulpenguin

@thenormreedus

@jeonjungtokki

@lokixme

@paullrud

@wendaiii

@lost-moon-child96

@fangeekkk

@vgiselle

@just-a-littlebit-of-everything

@flightlessgoddess

@winnielinleigh

@all-I-need-is-marvel-and-coffee

@psychoticobsession

@ilovemysupersoldiers

@love-devvie

@acunningstargazer

@theprettynerd

@leasly

@chook007

@jessyballet

@grace-writes-shit

@yeahhemmings-

@jumpxjess

@myfriendstexts

@aspiring-fangirls-world

[damian-dreamz8442]

Missing in Action Part I

In case y’all haven’t noticed, I write batfam fics, Damian centric, whump or hurt/comfort. So guess what this is? If you guessed a hurt/comfort Batfam fic with the whole batfam going out of their minds trying to find Damian then you get a virtual gold star. 

Now throw that out. There are no gold stars in the real world. 

Anyways, just FYI I’ve only read some of the comics and watched the movies so my timeline is probably complete crap. This is set during Bruce’s ‘death’ when Dick was Batman, but I’m just going to assume that Tim, Jason, Stephanie and Cass were all still around somewhere, so yeah they’re in this story. I like the big family dynamic, ok?

IMPORTANT TO THE PLOT:

I know the Joker is either dead or not really a problem (in arkham? Insane?) in the timeline where Damian is Robin and Bruce is dead but we’re going to make this an AU for the Worry purposes. 

It should’ve been a routine patrol, so why did Dick have reason to worry? He never should’ve let down his guard. Maybe if he hadn’t made a promise to Damian for ice cream after patrol, his little brother would’ve been on higher alert. Maybe then the clowns that jumped out of the shadows wouldn’t have been able to knock him out and make off with the littlest robin. 

Dick Grayson was a man prone to worry. His heart raced, his brain hiccuped, he almost had to pull over to avoid throwing up in the Batmobile. 

It was his and Dami’s night to patrol, finally, after Dick had been in bed with a broken wrist for days. Even Gotham seemed to notice the duo’s good mood and gave them a beautiful, peaceful night to enjoy. It was night’s like those when Dick didn’t mind the cowl as much - and even then, he couldn’t help but see Bruce in his own shadow. 

“Hey, Robin,” Dick paused, dropping into a dark alley and turning to his partner, “what do you say we take a break after this?” 

“Tt,” came Damian’s customary response, “isn’t that highly unprofessional, Batman?” 

Dick gestured to the calm air and the sparkling stars, almost visible despite the thick canopy of smog. “I don’t think we’ll be missed.” 

Of course, false hope for the bat family was karma’s calling card, and she reared her ugly head not a second later. 

Dick noticed looming figures appear at the end of the alleyway just as Damian spun at the sound of footfalls behind them. They were hemmed in by six thugs at least. Large ones. 

As the goons lumbered towards them, Batman and Robin armed themselves back to back. One of the figures stepped into the light - if you could call it that - and Damian bristled at his appearance. Thick clown makeup marred his face, sinister eyes leering at him. 

Eight in total hemmed them in, with clubs and other blunt objects. That was almost worse than knives or guns; weapons made to kill. It was obvious these adversaries had other plans for them. 

During the fight, Damian made a mistake. It almost never happened, but he let instincts and impatience takeover. He launched himself onto the shoulders of one of the goons, dispatching him. Damian didn’t even notice he had left Dick open to an attack from behind, without so much as a warning. 

A club crashed down on Batman’s head, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. Damian heard the undignified thump and realized his error, yelling a string of curses in arabic. 

Dick was harder to take down then he looked, but heavily concussed with two goons sitting on his back would do it. They took off his utility belt and tossed it aside, laughing as he sluggishly clawed at their weight. 

Dick was forced to watch as the rest of the thugs that remained standing went after his baby brother. Four large men with short range blunt weaponry shouldn’t have been this difficult, Damian knew. However his mind was betraying him, racing with thoughts of his mistake and his brother’s well being. 

A well placed two-by-four and a hard swing later, Damian crumpled to the cobblestones. 

“No,” Dick groaned, reaching for his robin, “leave him alone!” He shoved again at the crushing weight on his back but he had no leverage, and could barely tell up from down. 

One of the men picked up Damian and slung him over a shoulder. The other three sneered down at the fallen Batman, snarling at them like a wild animal. 

“We don’t need this one,” A man sitting on Dick’s back said, “but we aren’t supposed to kill him.”

“I’d like to,” the one holding Damian laughed, “but my hands are full!” He made a point at jostling Damian. Dick’s heart wrenched at the sound of his littlest brother’s groan. 

Following a round of laughter, they knocked Dick out. 

Dick woke to a horrifying scene. Damian was gone, the goons were gone, it was over an hour later. Dick’s head was pounding, blood sticking to his neck, rushing in his ears. A jack-in-the-box sat on the sidewalk in front of him. Dick crawled towards it, fumbling to get it open, fingers numb. It popped right out of his grip, and he nearly flinched. A tinny laugh rang from the contraption as a clown face wobbled on the end of a spring. As if Dick didn’t know it was the Joker as soon as he saw the goons. 

The Joker had Damian. Dick suddenly felt very, very cold.

Joker’s thugs really were imbeciles, Damian thought as he came too. First of all, he was being carried like a sack of flour, giving him full access to the large man’s vulnerable back. Second, his utility belt was still on his waist. Can’t get good help these days. 

Damian felt warm and wet liquid in his hair, undoubtedly blood, but not enough to concern him. 

Somehow the lugs had climbed a building on third street, only ten blocks from the scuffle. Damian let his head bounce to the side as the man walked to get a glimpse at the moon. He bit back a sigh as he realized he’d been out for almost half an hour. He was pathetic, letting a little hit to the head do him in so swiftly for so long. At least the overabundance of incompetence from Joker’s group made up for some of his clearly unacceptable failings. 

A plan of action was slowly turning in Damian’s brain, and he cursed his own weakness - silently - as a headache began pounding a steady beat. His thoughts were sluggish, so he finally decided to just let the idiots take him back to their lair. It involved the least amount of work for him. He could turn on his tracker when he got there and maybe take down the Joker in the rescue attempt. 

Damian counted another fifteen minutes had passed before their van came into view. It was then that Damian’s brain caught up with the situation. Sure, the thugs were feckless moron’s, but it was obvious their plan was well thought through. They had been waiting for Damian and Dick, meaning they’d probably been following them for a few blocks at least. Somehow they’d managed to go undetected. They worked together to accomplish their goal. Their getaway van was nowhere near the scene, in case Batman or Robin managed to get out a distress call. 

Robin realized he was not dealing with common thugs, but men who worked for the Joker; a psychopath who was one of the few people to actually cause Batman difficulty. Even beat him. Even kill a robin. 

Damian didn’t have time for subtlety. He grabbed a birdarang and sliced the man carrying him all the way up the back. Flipping off him, Damian landed in a spray of blood and shocked yells. Seven goons were suddenly running at him, but they were unarmed. Their blunt weapons had to be discarded to climb several buildings on their trip, and they hadn’t been valuable enough to keep on person anyways. Damian had been counting on their weapons just being conveniently found refuse. 

Jumping to the side, Damian unsheathed the katana on his back, slashing a them non-lethally. His concussion made him slow, they were closing in. Damian jumped down the building, vaulting down the fire escape. They followed him, much slower, as he ran across the street. 

Damian realized too late he’d ran down a dead end, with their van just across the street. They had picked up some weapons by now, though they were cut and bleeding, they were ever the more sinister. 

The fire escape of the apartment building at least gave him the higher ground, which he used to slash at the goons and keep them at bay. He kicked at their heads, even resorting to hissing at them like a wild animal. They got in a few hits, which Damian attributed to his slowness from being concussed. 

He felt a rib crack as he was caught in the side with a metal bat, too distracted trying to keep one from grabbing his ankles through the bars to notice another climbing the ladder. 

One of them had gotten a butcher’s hook from somewhere - probably a garbage can, gross - and used it to slash at Damian’s calves and arms. A hand closed around his ankle as Damian tried to defend himself, yanking him onto his back. He heard a loud pop and yelled as his ankle was dislocated, maybe even broken. 

A last burst of energy was all Damian had left, but he gave them hell. He was surprised to find the adrenaline clearing, leaving him in an alleyway with eight unconscious, bloody thugs. 

Damian only managed to get a few buildings away before he collapsed on a roof, bleeding and sore. He pulled out his communicator and balked at the smashed metal. Broken. Useless. Not unlike him at the moment. Damian groaned, flopping on the roof. 

Damian had no idea if Dick was where they’d left him, or if Dick was even alright. He had no way of contacting his older brother, the batcave, anyone. His grappling hook was nowhere to be found, his tracker was cleaved in half from the hit from the bat, and his phone was completely out of batteries. 

So... he was walking home. On a dislocated - maybe broken - ankle. Damian let out a long suffering sigh and got to his feet. 

Ten minutes before his minions were supposed to arrive back at base, the Joker got a call from one of them. 

“Yes, Dave?”

“Oh, actually my name-”

“Speak!” 

“Right, well... the kid got away.” 

“The... the little kid. Robin. The itsy bitsy can’t-be-more-than-fourteen-years-old Robin.” Joker punched the nearest person as it was affirmed that, yes, his well-briefed goons had lost the punk. Weeks of planning, wasted. 

“Get back here so I can disembowel you myself!” Joker growled. The kid getting away would definitely put a damper on the fun he had planned. But maybe it wasn’t a total loss. 

Dick was looking for clues and searching nearby alleys, trying not to get too distracted by his all-encompassing worry. He’d already called Alfred and not only had their been no word from Damian but both his tracker and communicator were out of commission. 

As Dick sprinted across the street for the fifth time, thinking he saw a glint in the trash, the phone booth rang. It was odd to even still have phone booths, let alone have them ring with no one around to answer. Dick picked up the receiver on the last ring. 

“Batman, I hope?” A sickeningly familiar voice leered. Dick seethed, it had been a long time since he’d heard that voice, but he would never forget it. Joker took his silence for an answer. 

“I have your Robin, in case you were wondering. I see you got another upgrade. A shiny new version. Adorable!” Dick let out a low growl, sounding more like Bruce than usual, “Don’t touch him.” 

“Oh, did you want him back? Already?” Dick clenched his fist, trying not to break the phone before he heard whatever sick game Joker wanted to play. 

“Good news for you, then! He’s waiting for you, in the place your little birdies go to die.” The Joker hung up, and Dick was panicking again. Where did robins go to die? The park? Was there some communal bird cemetery in Gotham? Was Joker planning to kill Damian? Dick needed to get answers, asap. He needed backup.  

So since I did a lot of explaining already, I’m just going to end this with a friendly goodbye and a reminder that I understand this story does not follow the plot of the comics probably at all? It’s ok guys, I’m not writing for accuracy. 

[fanficsaremylifeline]

Hi. My name is Peter Parker. You might know me from such hits as “local idiot accidentally poisons himself” or “resident disaster human being gets his girlfriend lettuce, thinking it were flowers”. (Luckily, both these happenstances went over without too much of a hitch. But you probably already guessed that, otherwise I wouldn't be able to tell you all this, now would I?)

This is the story of another time I – albeit with the best intentions – really messed up.

It all started about ten days ago. I was at home, just minding my own business, when the doorbell rang, followed by my Aunt calling out: “Peter, you have visitors!”

After putting down my comic book, I walked out to the living room, to find Mr Captain America, Mr The Winter Soldier White Wolf and Mr Falcon standing there.

“Uhm hi.”

“Heya, Queens”, Mr America smiled. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah, Brooklyn”, I grinned back. “What brings you by?”

“We could do with your help on a mission.”

“What kind of mission are we talking about here?” Aunt May eyed the Avengers quite sternly, and it was almost funny to see the superheroes, that had fought in World War II shy back in fear. Totally understandable, though, I don't think there's anyone that warrants more respect than Aunt May. Ok, maybe Pepper Potts. And most definitely MJ. MJ, that's short for Michelle Jones, she's my girlfriend the absolute best, most wonderful person, ever. Like, she's so smart, she's really badass and doesn't take anybody's shit. And she's so pretty, like really beautiful, inside even more so than out, although that's not even possible. And when she laughs... The whole room lights up and my brain's entire bio-chemistry just blows up. MJ is the absolute best, perfection incarnate and I realize that I maybe may have trailed off a bit there... Sorry 'bout that, let me get back to the story.

Where was I?

Right, Mr America, Bucky, Sam, a mission and a stern Aunt May.

“It's nothing military”, Steve explained. “It's Tony's birthday coming up and we'd like to get him something special.”

“That's why we need your help”, Sam continued. “You do know him better than we do, after all.”

“And you probably have the best idea what to get the guy that already has everything”, Bucky finished their pitch.

“That is a really wonderful idea”, May smiled.

“Yeah, it's totally awesome”, I agreed. “And I might just have an idea what to get him...”

For purposes of dramatic story telling, I won't share the surprise we got for Mr Stark just yet. Rest assured though, it is a good one.

Spending the afternoon together was a lot of fun. After having gotten the surprise, we all went for doughnuts. The Avengers couldn't stay too long though, they had appointments back at the compound, some sort of meeting, that I am happy to miss out on. Seriously, those Avenger meetings are boring as hell!

So I did what I love doing in my free time: I went out on patrol.

Oh right, that's something else you need to know about me first. Do you see that red figure, swinging through the streets, doing a flip and landing right over there on that rooftop? Yeah, that's me. For I am a superhero! But not just any old superhero, I am the one and only Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man, vigilante par excellence and part time Avenger. As little as I enjoy showing off, I have to admit that this is pretty awesome. I'm super strong, can climb up walls, walk on ceilings and my newest suit update even made me bulletproof! (Well, not me directly, but to quote the one and only Ironman: “The suit and me are one”, so you get where I'm going with this.)

That particular day there wasn't going on too much, though. Few pick-pockets, a car thief, but other than that it was slow, crime-wise. The problem with days like these is that it gives my mind plenty of chances to roam, especially around that one thought: I still hadn't found the perfect birthday gift for Mr Stark myself. Which yes, sounds ironic, given that I had found the perfect thing for the other Avengers to gift him, but not the right thing for me to give him. You see, our relationship started out as this sort of mentorship, where he helped me with the suit, showed me the way around an engineer's lab and is always ready to help out during patrol. By now he's more like my family. And yes, I found this pretty funny shirt, with that graph having a bunny and a duck as the x- and y-axes. No, let me rephrase that, it's not pretty funny, it's freaking hilarious. But it doesn't really say how important Mr Stark and our relationship is to me.

But what do you give the guy who is kind of like a Dad to you?

Unfortunately, even though I'm pretty smart, this thought process took a lot longer than I'd have liked. Even with the help of Ned and MJ, the smartest and best people I know, I got jack with a side of squat. The best thing they came up with was for me to cook a nice dinner for Mr Stark and Pepper. Which would be a wonderful idea, if I could cook something other than toaster-waffles or microwave-popcorn. And, as delicious as either of those are, neither really make for a fancy dinner fit for my father-figure's fiftieth birthday.

“Come on, you can make him a cake at least”, Ned mumbled, clearly caring more about my issue than the Spanish Test we were supposed to be taking right now. And that is the exact reason why he's my best friend and why I love him so.

“Fine. You know how to make a cake?”

“That's what the internet's for”, MJ hissed over.

So that's where I ended up (after getting detention for talking during a test), in front of my computer, googling how to make a cake. But just a cake wasn't enough. It was like a nice entrée, but the main course had to be so mind-blowingly amazing, showing Tony how much he means to me.

At this point of the story I'd like you all to burn into your mind how pure my intentions were and you have to agree that all I'm doing is the most amazing shit. Right, now that we're in agreement that I'm a wonderful, charming person and a delight to have around, let me continue to where everything started to go downhill.

Regrettably, all my fantastic ideas didn't really hit until the night before, which brings me to my first mistake: me thinking I could plan the most wonderful and amazing gift for Tony in about one night. Needless to say, I didn't really think all of it completely through (Mistake 2). And, for added motivation, I ingested an interesting and possibly quite dangerous mix of coffee and redbull (Mistake 3).

At first everything started out perfectly fine. The recipe was simple enough, I barely burned the damn thing and the parts that were a little dark were easily enough covered in chocolate. Some blueberries on top and I even managed to fit 50 candles on top.

Oh, you should have seen Tony's face when I carried it into the compound, he was so happy!

“Peter, that looks so delicious! I'm not sure I'm that old, though.”

“Sorry”, I shrugged and barely bit down my grin, but it's just so much fun to rile up Tony, especially when it came to his age.

“Yeah, yeah”, he grumbled and, with his arm around my shoulder pushed me to the living room, “let's jump ahead before you say something that might make me throw you out of my house.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“How was school?”

Oh fuck. After spending all morning in the kitchen, there might have been something I might have forgotten... (Mistake 4). Shit, May was so going to ground me.

“Nothing unusual”, I lied. (Mistake 5 – never, ever lie to Tony Stark, no matter how big or small the fib). “MJ and Ned wish you a very happy birthday.”

“Thank them from me. Now, the official party that is supposed to be a surprise starts in an hour.”

“Which of course you know about”, I grinned. It was virtually impossible to keep anything from Tony in this building.

“Naturally”, he grinned back. “Wanna sample a taste first, though?”

“I would love to try this perfection of palpable divinities.” (Misplaced confidence and hubris – mistake 6).

“Right.” It was with a roll of his eyes that Tony got a knife out. “So, the trick is to cut out a small slice from the middle, push the sides back together and...”

“Yeah, yeah, what do you take me for?”, I shot back, “I'm not too dumb myself.” That statement will soon be disproved, but let's revel in the beauty that is this moment where everything is still alright.

And for a few glorious moments, everything was perfect. The cake was delicious and Tony seemed to think so, too. Until he started clearing his throat. And again.

“You alright?”

“What's in that cake?”, he coughed, loosening his tie. “Not walnuts, is it?” (And that would be mistake 7).

“Uhm yeah?” Well shit. “Please don't tell me...” Of fucking course Tony would be fucking allergic to my birthday cake. “FRI, tell Bruce we're on our way to the medbay.”

“It's ok”, Tony choked, “I'll be...”

“Yes, you'll be fine.” I tried my all to sound not too panicked, I'm honestly not so sure if I succeeded, what, with my focus being on trying to get Mr Stark some help. Admittedly I all but carried him to the medbay, which he probably didn't appreciate as much as I hoped he would, but well. Safety first. (And maybe, next time, figure out what allergies the people around me have).

A shot from Bruce later, it was ok again. I would love to say it was great, but well. The admittedly disgusting looking swelling around his neck went down, and he even managed to sort of breathe again, but it still didn't look all that healthy. In short: it fucking sucked.

“Hey kid, it's alright, lived through worse.”

That might have been true, but then it hadn't been my fault. And it had been on the battlefield, not within the safety of his home and the comfort that was supposed to be his birthday party.

“And you didn't ruin my birthday”, Tony continued; apparently now able to hear every single one of my thoughts. “It doesn't matter if I look a little puffy on the pictures. It's still gonna be a fantastic party.”

“Of course he knows about the party”, Bruce scoffed. “Who blabbed?”

“Nobody did”, Tony made clear, “I'm a genius, remember?”

“Yeah, so are the other people present.”

Not that I felt much like a genius at that very moment. And Mr Stark was definitely in worse shape than “just a little puffy”. The rash had gone down a bit, but under normal circumstances Tony wasn't that red unless when wearing his iron suit and he tried not to let anything on, but I was pretty sure that whatever Tony would try to eat would be immediately thrown up again.

The other Avengers thought the whole thing to be hilarious. Which it really wasn't. Trust me. I know I wasn't the one who who almost died, but almost killing my father-figure? Being the person responsible for taking down Ironman?

Given the – hopefully understandable – embarrassment, I'm going to skip telling you about the teasing, the comments, the jabs, the laughter and everything the Avengers dished out. Well, as luck would have it, my actual present was still to come and that just had to blow everybody's mind enough that they'd forget my poisoning of Tony.

So not too long into that horrible party, I happily excused myself and headed straight for mistake number 8: letting my frustration motivate all my next moves. It would probably be best to tell you what I envisioned for my proper gift: personalized fireworks. Before you say anything, I now know that it was a horrible idea. There is probably no need for me to tell you what happened next, is there? To put a painful story short there was a loud bang and then things around me go dark.

If I'm being perfectly honest, I couldn't tell you much more details about that very situation if I wanted to, it's all a little hazy and Mr Dr Bruce say it's to blame on me hitting my head when that explosion threw me across the workshop. That we know thanks to FRIDAY, the Stark AI, having recorded it all and it would have been quite nice to remember that because the footage looks rad.

Anyways, I survived. Yay! Aunt May threatened some workshop-restrictions and a bit of grounding, not so yay, and MJ called me a dumbass, which is MJ-language for 'I'm glad you're not dead and I love you'. So, yay on that as well.

At the end of the day it was just Pepper and Tony cuddled on one couch, Happy and Rhodey decidedly not cuddling on another and me with my head on Aunt May's lap while she put her fingers through my hair, which is just the most soothing feeling in the world.

“I don't want to kill the mood, but mind telling us why you first tried to kill me and then yourself?”

“I didn't try to kill anyone. I just wanted to give you the perfect birthday gift.”

“That is the absolute sweetest thing”, he smiled. Well, I think he smiled, his face was at that point still weirdly swollen. “But you do know that every gift from you is the perfect gift, right? Even those ridiculous shirts are worth more than any Gucci suit.”

“Well, if you're bringing it up...” With that bruise on my face my smile looked probably similarly skew and messed up as Tony's. “If the cake was the entrée and the fireworks the main course, this is dessert.” From underneath the couch, where I had hidden it, I got out the last present. It took me probably an hour to wrap that damn t-shirt, suffered countless paper-cuts, invented half a dozen new swearwords and it still looked like it got caught under a steamroller. Maybe giving gifts just isn't my strong suit...

“This doesn't blow up if I open it, does it?”, Tony grinned.

“I didn't expect the other two to go that disastrous, so who knows?”

It didn't blow up, in case you were wondering. And Tony loved it, in case you were wondering about that.

So there we are. I am an idiot, yes, I know that, Mr Stark knows that and you know that, but I believe I'm an adorable idiot. It's been a few days since Mr Stark's birthday, I'm all healed, as is Tony. Of course I have not yet lived it down; the Avengers unfortunately aren't forgetful when it comes to idiocy and therefore I have repeatedly been gifted walnuts over the last few days and will continue to receive them for a long time to come.

But that's alright. The best gift, as it turned out in the end, wasn't for Tony, but for me: at his latest press thing, Mr Stark actually wore the shirt I got him. An official SI press conference, with the most prestigious papers and news outlets from all over the world and he showed up not in a fancy expensive suit, but in the damn science-pun shirt about rabbits and ducks. And all the explosions and near-death experiences can go to hell, because the very picture of Tony wearing MY shirt adorned all the newspapers this morning. And that's the best present anybody could ever get.

The End

Oh shit, wait, I totally forgot to tell you what the Avengers got Tony! You're going to love this. A little hint: Pepper wasn't all that happy about it. Yeah, you got it: a giant plush-bunny! Exactly, it's amazing.

Huh, maybe I'm not that bad at having gift ideas after all...

[onebadwinter]

Name: Unknown (For my personal portrayal his real name will be: Nicholai Albin Etzel)

Meaning of Name:  Nicholai:  Victorious; conqueror of the people. Albin:  White, bright. Etzel:  Noble One.  Nickname(s):  Jack Napier, The Joker, The Clown Prince of Crime, The Harlequin of Hate, The Red Hood,  Domino Killer, Ace of Knaves, Gravedigger, Oberon Sexton, Jerome and Jeremiah Valeska, The Fool, Public Enemy #1, Mr. Rekoj, Nemesis of The Knight, The Bandit, Mr. Face Paint, Patient 0, Patient 223, Joe White, Jocund Jack of Jocund Jack of All Crimes, Eric Border, One The Clown at Midnight, Joseph Kerr, The Pale Man, Ivar Loxias, Liam Distal, John Doe And whatever else he feels like, bitch.  

Age: Unknown, between 20-40 years old. Depends.

Birthday: Unknown, Theorized to be on April 25th(1940*Winkwonk*), April 1st, July 11th, August 1st ( My Portrayal will be on: May 25)

Species/Nationality:  Human/Altered, Slavic, French, German, American

Accent: Posh English, with hints of a mixture of others as undertones. Or you know, whatever fucking accent he wants to have that day. You know?

Language spoken: English, Old Prussian, Romanian, Italian, American Sign Language, German, French, Spanish, 

Powers/Abilities:  Resistance to Pain, Mister Mxyzptlk's Powers, Black-Ops Training, Fearlessness, Genre Awareness(Fourth Wall), Immune to Poison, Poisonous Blood, Escapology, Super Sanity(Fourth Wall), Trained Tactician,  Shape Shifting, Good Timing, Genius Level Intelligence, Enhance Mutation, Disguise Mastery, Adaptive, Marksmanship,  Agility, Stealth Mastery, Immortality, Unarmed Combat, Science Manipulation(Mastery), Regeneration, Mechanical (Mastery), Fourth Wall Breaking, Animal Handling,  Weapon Master, Narrator, 

Pet: Technically, none. One could say. But Three Hyena’s through Harley Quinn named Bud and Lou.

Illness/Allergies: Super Sanity, Severe Chemical Imbalances, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Facial Nerves are Paralyzed, 

Occupation:  Chemical and Mechanical Engineer/Comedian, 

Faceclaim: Jared Leto/Cameron Monaghan, 

Description: Unaltered by being kicked into a vat of chemicals, Nicholai looks just like any normal person. Black or Dark Brown hair, a normal skin color and complexion. Blue eyes some piercing scars on his ears, no tattoos. His looks after being chemically altered are roughly the same, his eyes change to green, his hair as well. His skin becomes a sleek ivory/grayish color. He starts wearing make up to exacerbate the darkness around his eyes and the color of his lips.  His nose is normal length and size in both his normal and altered phase. Facial scars and red lips. He has EYEBROWS lol.

Outfit/Accessories/Jewelry: TBD

Height: 5′10″-6′5″

Weight: 140

Body Build: Slender/Athletic

Backstory/Background:

Nicholai is born to a father who had moved from Russia to France two years prior to Nicholai's birth. Nine or so months before he had met Nicholai's mother.  The pair had conceived Nicholai during a one night stand together. After which, Nicholai moved to America, not knowing she had been pregnant then. Nine months later Nicholai had been born on May twenty-fifth, this incident lead to his mother and father ultimately hooking up for good thinking that it would be best for their son, rather getting together our of something as silly as 'love'. Throughout the following years however, it became a point of contention for the family of three. By the time Nicholai had been old enough to begin remember things, his father had taken to drinking excessively as well as flying into fits of rage upon the stresses of life trying to provide for his family. His then wife taking the brunt of many of these rage induced attacks. But often enough the trickle down had landed Nicholai in his fathers sights. Who would hit, yell at, or lock him in a small container for hours at a time.

By the time Nicholai had started school his father had lessened on the hitting part of the abuse toward his son but where that aspect had been lessened, the less obvious ones had heightened. However, Nicholai had still proven himself a very intelligent young boy. Getting praise from his teachers usually and suggestions to his parents to put him in gifted programs, noting that even for a boy so young he had seemed to be very intelligent. His father had refused to place him in such programs however, claiming that it would only get his boy bullied in school and make him into a freak. This, Nicholai had thought, was one thing he had liked that his father had done for him. As he also did not want to go to any of the gifted classes at that time either. As well, Nicholai's mother was very doting, often times it seemed she had taken on the burden to love Nicholai enough for both her and his father's concerning lack of love toward his son. It had often felt smothering to the young boy, now worried she would be and how nervous she had often made him feel growing up. It instilled in him a sense that he was in constant danger.

Nicholai had found it hard to make and keep friends while going to school. He often talked in a strange way that none of the other kids quite caught on to. He was also clearly smarter than all the other kids too, vastly smarter and so the conversations and play time had seemed challenging to Nicholai as he often felt he had needed to dumb himself down in order to enjoy these moments with the other children. Something he didn't really want to do. But, giving in a little, he started to clown around during classes, playing little tricks on others or showing off little tricks from childish inventions he would make on show and tell days. It was during one of these days where his parents had requested his parents switch him over to a private school that would be more suitable for him. Caving in, his father agreed, once he was told that he would not have to pay for this scholarship. So, Nicholai had to restart again, trying to make friends. Only this time, the children were not so easily amused by his tricks and toys.

The children at his new school were the children of very important, powerful or rich families in all of Gotham and some of the surrounding areas. Nicholai was new, and vastly different from all of the other children around him now, and like blood in the water of a bunch of hungry Sharks, a lot of the children could tell he was not one of them. So they ignored him most of the time. One day, another day of show and tell Nicholai had brought a frog to class, showing it off and letting it hop around the floor in front of him. He had been absolutely proud of the little toy he had made. Though none of the other children had seemed impressed. One raised their hand, and Nicholai had them ask their question. It was a rather innocent one, he thought, could the frog do anything else but hop. Nicholai had smiled at the other child before moving to pick the frog up and bring it toward the girls desk and telling her to stick her hand into the frogs mouth. Which she did, and the frog spit up some slime onto her hand. She was thoroughly disgusted but it did get a lough out of one other boy, a tame one, but a laugh.

Nicholai had looked over toward the dark haired boy sitting several desks away and watching as they tried to hid their giggling and go back to a more serious state. Looking away he brought his frog back and took most of the goop back as he moved back to his seat at the teachers behest. Later that day Nicholai had learned that the boy who laughed was Bruce Wayne, of all people. A Wayne. He could not believe he had made a Wayne laugh at something so simple! However, he could not get this boy to give him all that much attention. No matter what he had tried the other seemed distant from him, and everyone else. Away in his own world, it had seemed. Nicholai had eventually given up and looked elsewhere for friendship. As he was doing so, his father had again picked up beating him physically. This time making sure he kept quiet and to not hit the boy anywhere anyone might see. That was until one night he had managed to hit Nicholai so hard that Nicholai had need to go to the clinic to get healed. He was to stay their several nights.

This had not made his father happy, but Nicholai knew he would at least have a few days of sanity before going back home. There he had met Martha Wayne, Bruce Wayne's mother. Who, for some reason was there. She had come up to him and asked if he had gone to school with her son, then asked if he had been the boy with the toy frog. The reason for her asking this was because just a moment before Nicholai had been working on the toy frog in question while sitting in his bed resting. Then Martha had asked if he knew her son Bruce Wayne, Nicholai had confessed to the older woman that him and Bruce had not met yet. Martha seemed to look a bit desperate then, and asked if he would like to come over for a play date sometime that week, as she would love for her Bruce to make a friend, and Bruce had talked a lot about a boy who built a toy frog, with her. Martha had even tried to sugar coat her offer by bringing up that it would 'get him out of his house' for a couple of hours, daily, if the boys play date went well enough.

With that offer she told him she was going to go and that she would come talk to him later on and let him rest as he thought about the proposal to be her sons friend. Nicholai wasn't going to say no. Because he had also been wanting a friend for a long time too, and something about Bruce had told him that they could be very great friends. Over the next couple of days Nicholai had healed up and enjoyed the peace of the clinic, still not having seen Martha since her request to him.  His mother had left fifteen minutes earlier to go grab him something to eat at a local store, for lunch. However, an alarm going off had set the entire peaceful setting of the hospital into almost complete chaos. The lights had gone off, and Nicholai had to cover his ears upon hearing popping noises very close by. What he could only assume were the sounds of some sort of gun or something similar. Being just a young boy he couldn't tell, of course. Moving quickly he tried to get to his door before a man stepped in front of it. Then asked 'what he had here'.

The look in the mans eyes had told Nicholai to run, to get away from the man turning he tried darting for the other side of the room, but the much larger, stronger, and faster older man was too quick. Grabbing Nicholai by his left wrist and jerking the child closer, their arms had wrapped around Nicholai before he was being forcibly carried out of the room and down the hallway. Screaming for the man to let him go and all other sorts of things as he squirmed to try and break free, seeing several people working at the clinic being shouted at by either the man carrying him, or any of the men that were with him, before getting shot when they didn't tell the man what he had wanted to know. Nicholai had witnessed the majority of the incident take place, right toward it's conclusion where he had ultimately been kidnapped by the gang as they rushed to leave the hospital with whatever they had been there to do, being done. For several months or so afterword Nicholai was subjected to many forms of abuse from the gang, of even the most sadistic of natures.

Then, just like that, they had let him go, as if nothing had even happened. Even dropping him off back home. His mother was in tears about his return, happy he wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere like most other children. Nicholai's father however, greeted him with a smack to the back of the head and a comment on how stupid could he be to get himself kidnapped. Along with many other cruel things. Nicholai had gone to therapy after this for several weeks. When it was concluded that he had more or less blacked out MOST if not all of what had happened to his time in captivity. His mother was told to give him some pills that would help keep the memories locked away and eventually he would totally forget about them. After a month Nicholai had returned back to school as if nothing had happened, a few kids asked where he had been all this time, but for the life of him he couldn't really remember.  In time life did move on as usual, Nicholai returned back to his school work, focusing a lot more on that than in making friends, even though he would have stilled liked to have had them.

A couple of years passed without incident, Bruce and Nicholai never got the chance to have their play date. Martha had asked more often when seeing Nicholai, how he had been feeling, rather than bringing up play dates. However, a incident happened one day after a night out at the movie. Nicholai was across the street from the movie theater as he waited for his father to finish up some business he had to do. Looking out toward the lights of the theater, Nicholai sighed. He wished his father wouldn't bring him along for these sort of things, but his father had said one day he might have to learn the 'trade' in order to support himself and his family. Nicholai didn't think being a criminal was worth it. Though as he sat in the car he mused about his future, imagining himself most often telling jokes to a large crowd of people. The thought of people laughing at his jokes was much more alluring to him. Smiling he continued to look toward the lights, then toward the many people leaving the theater, their he had spotted a couple of familiar faces exiting later in the evening followed by those all too familiar popping noises. Ducking down, Nicholai had covered his ears, the sounds stirring in him a uncharacteristic response for him, absolute uncaring numbness.

With his body trembling he moved his hands from his ears and wrapped them around himself as he listened to the shouting, both Bruce's, he could tell and the people gathering around. His father had come to the car and climbed in looking toward the back where he had left Nicholai, seeing his son was there the man had started the car quickly before speeding off. Nicholai sat up, looking back toward the scene as police were arriving. He then looked toward his father as the other tossed a few items into the passenger seat. Nicholai had crossed his arms over his stomach, before commenting that Gotham's criminal side was growing out of control. Nicholai had noticed that Gotham had a very high crime rate some time ago, and with each year it got worse. The next day at school, Bruce was of course not there. It seemed that the Wayne's were gunned down, the news had been nonstop talking about it since the incident happened. Bruce was now an orphan, left to be raised by his butler all alone in the mansion on a creepy side of the city.

Years had passed after that, Nicholai continued to work on his studies, eventually growing an interest in chemicals. By this time he was in middle school and starting into a phase some might have called his punk phase. In this phase he got really into piercings and wearing fake tattoos for a while, before eventually switching to other phases. You know, as a person finding themselves is one to do. Nicholai eventually settled on all of them, because he became a big fan of having multiple choices. Also during this time he met a young blond girl who was a bit of a spoiled brat, but he never quite got her name, something to do with a motorcycle or something of the sort, was all he could remember. The reason for this is because at some point in middle school he had moved up a few grades, having taken on the programs that would allow him to skip grades and graduate from school earlier than others. From time to time for a while he would even see Bruce Wayne here and there, but the two had, by that point in time moved on with their own separate lives. He had heard some rumors that Bruce had gotten very aggressive since his parents deaths.

Nicholai continued with his school work, excelling and eventually he had met the young girl who would in some years time become his wife. By this time in his life he had been sixteen years old and helping his father with some odd petty theft jobs here and their to help support his family. His plate was full, but he hadn't minded it all too much. Still he found himself wishing to become a comedian, that way he didn't need to work so hard anymore. He and Jeannie had become quite close and were absolutely enamored with themselves. He had truly fallen in love with her, and he couldn't imagine any good future without her in it. In time he had graduated early from high school and moved on to college, Jeannie and Nicholai had remained close even as he had to go away for college. Four years later he had graduated and taken a job offer to work as a chemical engineer in a plant in Gotham, by this time in his life he had long stopped helping his father do petty thieving jobs and decided to move on from that life and move Jeannie to a decent part of the city.

About a year after moving out of his parents his father had been murdered by someone in the crime world. Nicholai had ignored the majority of it, not wanting to know what had happened and quietly laid his father to rest without looking into the death any further. About two years after his mother had also gotten in a horrific car accident that had left her in a coma where eventually Nicholai had to give the order to take her off life support. Jeannie had supported and taken care of him through all of it, showing him that she had loved him just as much as he loved her. Eventually they talked about having a child together, starting their own family. In this time Nicholai continued to work as a chemist and work with the plant, however, his dreams of being a comedian had not waned. So one night, he went to Jeannie and asked her opinion. She had encouraged him to do what made him happy. Sure that he could always go back to the plant if things didn't go well. After hearing her opinion he decided to take the chance, he could live with a chance to do something he had always wanted to do.

Though about a year or so into his attempt the pair had fallen onto hard times, Jeannie was nearly nine months or so pregnant at the time and had decided to raise some concerns about money. Eventually she told Nicholai that he should think about returning to his job at the plant. Nicholai sighed, agreeing at first but remembered his connections with the criminal world. One night after his acts he went around asking about little bits of information for some hits on a few houses, petty thievery was something the Gotham police barely even bat an eye at half the time, he knew he could make some quick cash this way to both support his dream career and wife and child with a few marks here and there. Nicholai had failed to find anything however and retreated back home. It wasn't until a few weeks later when two familiar goons he had known came around his house, and mentioned in front of Jeannie that they had some jobs for him. She of course was not happy about it, Nicholai could tell. But he knew from his time in childhood that it wasn't something to be so worried about.

Trying to assure Jeannie that everything would be okay, he would do some odd jobs for the men and their gang here and there in order to support them until he made some headway, he was sure he was close to breaking into the business of comedy in no time. As people who were fame hungry usually thought before ending up homeless on the streets of California shooting up through their toes and shitting on sidewalks. Nicholai agreed to take on the odd job the two men were offering. Looking toward the red hood they had brought along with them. He wasn't so sure what the point of it was to continue the sideshow, but he knew the routine. Eventually donning the hood and costume while committing the petty thefts. However this had only served to bring him more attention than he would have liked. Again and again the news would report on the 'Red Hood' and it was just growing more and more popular. Eventually Nicholai had decided to tell his new bosses that he wanted out, that the risk was too high now and he decided he would go back to work in chemical engineering.

Jeannie had been more than thrilled to hear about this, however, the gang he was working for had not been, at all. Nicholai told Jeannie he would not do any more jobs, and he would work a legitimate job to support her and their child. It had seemed to take a lot of stress off Jeannie's shoulders that he only then had just realized was effecting his wife, the woman he would claim was his soul mate if he had even believed in such a thing. It made him feel ashamed for having been so selfish and put her through something like that. A few nights later, however, the two men had come back to their home one night. Again, the suggested a job to Nicholai, which Nicholai had turned down. But this time, they weren't asking him to do it, they were telling him to do it. Or they would expose him as the red hood to the entire city and he would be locked up and never even see his child or wife again. Jeannie had told him it was alright, to take the final job and then they could move on with their lives. Nicholai wanted to protest, knowing how this worked for criminals, having grown up around it.

But seeing his wife's worry had returned and being concerned for his unborn child he agreed, not wanting his wife to become stressed this close to having their child he told the men he would take on this last final job for them and then asked where it would be. They had said it would be at the plan, where he had worked. They had known, and knew he would be perfect for this particular job. Oh, they had assured him that it would be the last job. They prooomised she would be save and they could move on with their lives. Then they told him where to meet them the next day. After they left Nicholai had hugged his wife, apologizing to her for being so stupid and allowing this entire thing to happen and get this far. Before then kneeling and holding her stomach, cooing at it a bit and telling his child that he was going to fix it, he promised.  Then he stood and helped his wife to bed. The next day he had met the men at the spot they had instructed, just before sun down they had arrived and handed him the suit. Nicholai put it on, reluctantly.

Some time later they were breaking into the plant and making their way to the destination point where they would be retrieving their package. However as they were leaving a pair of glowing eyes from the darkness had them stopping in their tracts. It was The Batman, as the other two men had probably said. Nicholai thought he was hearing them right anyway. Batman, what a silly name for a superhero, he thought. Of course he had heard of the thing before, everyone knew about Batman by now. The guy was running around like a chicken with his head cut off bringing justice all over the city. Batman was a big reason for Nicholai to want to stop before it got this far. However, it was too late for that now. Taking off he managed to dodge Batman’s attempts to stop him and leave the other guys behind. Which had at least given him some time to come to terms with his life as he knew it changing forever. He was going to prison, no doubt about that. How was he going to explain to the police that he had willingly chosen to commit all those crimes, except for this one time. This one time he didn't want to do it that meddling Batman had caught him.

It was a poor excuse and now the false floor was breaking underneath him. Bolting toward the chemicals he runs onto one of the bridges only for Batman to drop right in front of him. As the man yelled at him to stop Nicholai turned and darted the other way, still carrying the package. Taking another bridge he runs across only to get his arm sliced by something the other male threw at him. He was definitely not going to beat this guy, and he knew that. But he was also not going to give up, he was going to get out of there and get back to his wife. At least he would have liked to think that's how it all worked out. However Batman eventually catches up to him and kicks him over the side of the bridge and down toward the vats of chemicals. Landing on the concrete floor, hard, he was sure he broke something then. Pushing himself up he continued to try and flee. Batman dropping behind him and holding up something. Nicholai turned down toward one row of chemical filled vats, surely thinking that Batman wasn't stupid enough to throw anything that might break any of the vats-

And oh would you look at that. Batman decided to blow it all up.  This caused the vats to break apart and spill their contents out all over the place, sending the chemical waste splashing all over Nicholai. Batman was fine though, he just zipped on out of their, as you do when your a millionaire dressed up like a bat and it's not Halloween. Anyway, back to the backstory. So Nicholai was washed away with some chemicals and somehow went down the drain and out into the sewers where he continued to be contaminated and horrifically mutated into what everyone would later come to know as The Joker. Eventually getting spit out of the sewers and into some nice fresh air and your normal every day dirty muddy water Nicholai lay on that cool mud as his body continued to change, smoke rising from his now overheating form. Then, eventually, it all stopped. The world had stopped spinning, the heat no longer bothered him, everything just stopped and then went black. At some point he woke up to the moon overhead, lighting up the entire area around him.

Nicholai eventually got up not noticing at first what had happened to him. Moving toward the water he tore the hood off his head and tossed to the side angrily, ripping away at the rest of the suit he was wearing, wanting nothing more to do with it or the gang. He hoped that them along with Batman had thought of him to be dead. Hearing a noise when he did this he could only think of it as clicking, constant clicking noises. Nicholai eventually noticed that he had changed and this had caused him to go into a fit of giggles. Eventually he had made his way back to the city and to his home only to find it had burned to the ground. Dropping onto the ground, Nicholai laughed even louder then he had back at the drainage pool he woke up by. Eventually he would come to learn that his wife and unborn child had died from a short circuit.  From that point on the man known as Nicholai had stopped existing.

Some years later the man known as The Joker and a million other alias' by this point in his life had been sitting in a chair waiting to meet his newest psychiatrist and begin the game again. He had taken to scaring most if not all of his previous psychiatrists away. One day a young girl with long blonde hair and big bright blue eyes, wearing glasses had come into the room. From what he could tell, she was just out of college. Not like the old coots he had put up with before her. Or the staff he had to deal with any other time while at Arkham Asylum. So the Joker did what he did best, when he began the game. When he wasn't running his criminal empire directly. When he was 'calm'. He talked to her. Teased her and befriended her. It was easy. It was easy because he could see in her what someone he once knew had been like. Without a friend in the world, that yearning. Then there was the look of an animal who had been locked in a cage. He could see it all in this girl. Each day he would win her over, more and more.

Many would say that he had manipulated her. That he used her and turned her from good to bad. But He had only freed her. She just needed that extra...push. Everything else about her was there all along, scratching at the floorboards, waiting, wanting to be freed. Joker had the key, only him. Because it was only her that needed the freedom he could provide. Then one day, with the cage door open she had come to him, it had been the first of April, if he would later remember right. She was excited, because she knew what crimes she was committing as she walked those halls, key in hand, stabbing guards and other staff in the throats with needles filled with...who knew what. With a smirk on his face he had taken the young woman's hand and let her drag him through the facility to their get away car. The woman had taken her new freedom to such an extreme level, another fit of giggles had rocked Joker as he watched her chaotic bursts of energy and her decisions based on a whim. She was hair brained. Then she turned to him, she said, she would be called Harley Quinn from that day forward.

So she was, Harley Quinn, from that day forward, and he was hers. Joker smirked however, not showing the same kind of attachment to her. The days went on like that, till it came time. She wanted to commit to him entirely, all of her. During a drive she stopped at the chemical plant, reminding him of the time he had told her in a session they had, when it came to questions about his odd inhuman features. He told her he took a swim in one of the chemical vats at the plant. It wasn't exactly the truth. But it was clearly something she had fixated on and she herself had decided that she would also, take a chemical bath. Joker didn't stop her, of course. Why would he. He was curious about what would happen to her. So into the plant they went and he watched her amp herself up to jump. With a little prodding he asked her if she would die for him. Harley exclaimed a yes, still working up her nerve. Then he asked her if she would live for him. This had seemed to stump her for a moment. Then a serious look came over her face, she said yes and ran toward the vat, leaping from the ledge and dropping down into the pool of chemicals.

Joker thought that she might have been dead, then. He was just about to leave but, suddenly, he had stopped himself and turned back before jumping back in after her. Plunging into the chemicals and grabbing onto her. Rising out of the waste he lift her unconscious body up from the liquids. Then opened her airways, chemicals had dripped off his dark green hair that half clung to his face. Staring at her that day, something old and familiar to him stirred, if only for a moment. He thought for a moment he might have cared about this woman. As impossible as it would seem to him, something had told him he could let her die, that he wanted to keep her. Dragging her out of the liquids he gets himself and her out of the plant and back toward their car where he sped off into the night.

Some nights later Joker took her too get some pets. She had wanted them after waking up, and though he really didn't want any on his own. Again the feeling, small yet familiar had hit him. He caved, taking her to get three baby Hyena's in the black market. Joker didn't pay them much mind, but they had made Harley very happy, and sometimes he found himself amused by this before going back to ignoring them again as he worked on his plans to deal with Batman. Sometimes Harley would be more than annoying with her need for attention, however. Which had grated on his patience as time had gone. His prior attempts to get her to leave him alone was often ignored. But he did cave and eventually find that hitting her or threatening her silenced her up real good. So he went with that option instead of being rational. Because why not, he's not a saint, and the man he used to be was no longer their. That man was dead, he was The Joker now, and who was she, getting on his nerves half the time. Almost, he had noticed, intentionally.

That is how life had gone on for many years, him and Batman playing their game back and forth. Harley being a third wheel, but every so often he would show her how he felt, even if she had annoyed him a lot. He had secretly loved her, too. But after about forty minutes he would abandoned her to get back to his game with Batman, starting the cycle again. At some point he had those Hyena’s of  His and Harley’s eat Salvatore Guzzo alive.

(Work In Progress)

Personality: Daring, Unpredictable, Changeable, Lack of empathy, Unconcerned, Lacks a conscience, Apparent insanity, Leader, Joker, Humorous, Adaptable, Sensor,  Self Evaluation, Meditative, Mischievous, Murderous, Unreliable,  Sadist, Believes he cannot be saved,  Aware of himself and others and how he effects them, Seemingly Illogical Nature, Asexual/Sexual, Manipulative, Private, Uninterested in Sexual Relationships, Hyper Fixating, Capable of romantic relationships, Nonreciprocating, Uncaring, Abusive, Lover, Physical, Melancholic, Obnoxious, Fighter, Abused, Chiding, Hardworking, Egomaniac, Grandiose, Nontraditional Romantic (With Batman), Urbane, Wishes to make Batman the best he can be, Chaotic, Defines his existence through conflicts with Batman, Does not care about Batman’s real identity, Disturbing, Complex, Doesn’t want to kill Batman, Repressed, He only wishes to continue playing his game with Batman, Steely, Glamorous, Determined, doesn’t want money or power, Can express remorse when in a certain state of mind, Faithful

Quirks/Savvies/Other: Tech, Science, Combat,

Likes:

Dislikes:

Fears:  None

Personality Tests:  The Challenger, The Enthusiast, The Peacemaker, ENTP, 8w7, The Nonconformist, Hufflepuff, Slytherpuff, Thunderbird, Thunder Serpent,

Other: Gemini, Tropes (Part 2),

Spouses: Jeannie (Dead),

Children:  Unborn Child (Son/Dead), Second child

Significant Other: Harley Quinn,

Parent(s):

-> Father: Unknown (Dead)

-> Mother: Unknown (Dead)

Sibling(s): Unknown

Starters

Chat’s

Para’s

Face

Stuff

Information

Asks

All

                                                                             Alternate Universes

Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy AU

There are TWO Harley’s AU

There are FOUR Joker’s AU

The Joker’s are TWINS AU

The one where The Joker does NOT become The Joker AU

The Joker is one of the Good Guys AU

The Joker is related to Batman AU

Star Wars Joker AU

Beelzebub AU

[avengerscompound]

Finding Home - Chapter 10

Finding Home: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x OFC (Daisy Adams)

Word Count:  2184

Warnings:  Angst, mentions of torture, violence, major character death, mentions of sexual abuse/rape, pregnancy, smut (vaginal sex, oral sex, pregnancy sex, Bisexual MMF threesome)

Synopsis:  Daisy Adams has abilities. She can read minds. Force her thoughts onto others. As a child, she is taken by Hydra and raised as a weapon. Daisy finds another and speaks to him in his dreams. He has been taken too. He wants to return to the man he loves. Can she get them back together? Will she even want to once she realizes that she’s falling in love?

Chapter 10

We all dressed and I said goodbye to James I reassured him with my mind he was safe and with people who would protect him as Fury took him from me. It felt like my heart was being torn out.

We flew to Korea. Natasha and Clint taking turns flying the jet while the rest of us waited. Even with the speed of the Quinn Jet, it was going to be five hours before we got there. I dozed in Steve’s arms, trying to block out the thoughts he had of me dying in the upcoming fight.

As we approached Korea he woke me up and spoke to me. He wasn’t my boyfriend Steve anymore. He was Captain America, my unit leader. I hated it. It made me think of Hydra. I didn’t want thoughts of Steve to be anywhere near thoughts of my time in Hydra.

“During the battle, you will stay here in the Jet with Clint. You will not leave for any reason other than the jet is incapacitated and you’re directly under attack. You will scan the crowd, find the cradle. You will do your best to take out the female, Wanda. If you can’t you will either protect our minds from her, or you will take out the mind of the male, Pietro. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said. It came out shaky.

“Please stay safe, Daisy. I love you.” He said, softer this time. Not Captain America, but Steve Rogers my boyfriend.

“You stay safe too,” I said.

He kissed me, and we all waited in silence until we arrived in Korea.

We dropped Steve off at Helen Cho’s medical facility and he went inside to find Ultron. We waited in dead silence for his command.

I scanned the city, looking for people who were seeing things that might lead to Ultron. Trying to pinpoint the twins.

There was talking happening. Clint and Natasha talking with Steve. It was like it was static. All I cared about was the twins.

As I scanned I felt a weird alien mind from just below. I probed it and saw the destruction. The whole human race annihilated. It felt like the stone too. Calling me. Telling me to take it for myself and I could stop all of this.

“Ultron is directly below us,” I said. Even my own voice sounded far away to me. When Clint spoke to Steve it might as well have happened on another planet for all the notice I took.

I was pulled towards something stronger. I scanned everyone, each person one at a time but so quickly it was like data being passed through the Internet.

Our minds locked. She fought me. She was strong. I was stronger.

GET OUT OF ME! Her mind shrieked.

I AM NOT GOING TO LET YOU HURT MY FRIENDS. TIME FOR YOU TO SLEEP. I shot back.

YOUR FRIENDS?

THE AVENGERS. WE WILL STOP YOU AND ULTRON.

WE AREN’T WITH ULTRON ANYMORE. She cried out. Her thoughts were terrified. I scanned them. She had seen the destruction too. She wanted no part of it.

YOU HELPED HIM. NOW HELP US STOP HIM. I pushed.

There was turmoil in her mind. She didn’t know what to do. I pushed again. I knew I couldn’t force her to change her mind. She’s too powerful and she felt like that fucking stone. Still, I convinced her, mostly because she knew it was the right thing to do. I released her and collapsed back against my chair. I wiped my nose and my hand came back bloody. I needed to get something from the medkit but I was too tired and Clint was flying erratically. We were under attack. Somewhere along the line, Natasha left the jet.

I pinched my nose and tilted my head back. “Tell the others the twins are on our side,” I said.

“How can you know that?” Clint asked.

“Clint. Seriously?” I snapped. He passed the information on, and I closed my eyes. I felt weak. This was too much for me, and in the end, I wasn’t really even needed.

“The package is airborne. I have a clean shot.” Clint said.

“Negative. I am still in the truck.” Natasha shot back over comms.

“What are you doing …”

“Just be ready, I’m sending the package to you,” Natasha said, interrupting Clint.

“How do you want me to take it?” Clint asked.

“Eh, you might wish you hadn’t asked that,” Natasha replied.

Clint glanced back at me. “You still buckled in, D?” He asked.

“Yes. Try not to kill me.” I said.

Clint laughed. “I’m not making any promises.”

Steve’s voice crackled over the comms. “I lost him. He’s headed your way.”

“Nat, we gotta go,” Clint said.

The back of the Quinn Jet opened up and I saw Natasha come flying out of the back of the truck, riding the cradle. Just as it landed in the back of the Jet, Ultron appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Nat’s leg and dragging her away.

“Nat!” Clint and I yelled almost in unison.

“What happened?” Clint asked.

I jumped to my feet and staggered to the open cargo bay searching the sky. “Ultron took her,” I yelled back.

“Can you find her?” Clint asked.

I started securing the ark in place so it wouldn’t fly back out of the jet.

“Cap, have you seen Nat?” Clint said over comms. He was panicking. Not that I blamed him.

“If you have the package get it to Stark now.” Steve barked back.

“Do you have eyes on Nat?” Clint asked again.

“Go!” Steve yelled.

I sat back down, and Clint closed the hangar door.

“I’ll scan for her, Clint. I’ll scan for her.” I said buckling myself back in.

I saw him nod. His jaw set. I closed my eyes and scanned.

When we made it back to Avengers Tower Bruce was waiting for me with James. Nick had left him in Bruce’s care so he’d be there when I got back. I took him hugging him close to me and I left them to whatever shit they were going to do. I needed to not be near that stone.

I had felt Natasha, but she was unconscious, so I couldn’t quite pinpoint her. I told Clint she was alive. He didn’t take it as reassuring.

I lay down on my bed and curled myself around James. He placed his tiny little fingers on my face. Not really meaning too, just waving them around in that out of control way babies do when they don’t realize they have hands. When they touched me, calmness passed between us. He was happy I was back. I was happy to be with him. We fell asleep.

When I awoke it felt like I was being overwhelmed by the thoughts of the stone. I got up and sent my mind out. Steve was back. He had the twins with him. He was angry. I scrambled out of bed, picking up James who fussed at being disturbed. It felt like the elevator was going too slow. I was just off the floor with the lab, when there was an almighty crack. The elevator shuddered and came to a stop halfway between floors. I heard an explosion and I sent out a call for help with my mind. James started crying.

I tried budging the doors to the elevator open. Someone pulled them open from the other side and a purple hand was offered to me. I took it and when I did this new … person … and I spoke. Spoke isn’t quite the word. We exchanged ideas. He was good. Safe. He was the missing piece in all of this.

When he helped me out of the lift he floated back to the others, and I went and stood next to Steve.

“I’m sorry. That was odd.” He said. He turned to Thor. “Thank you.” His form changed. He added a cape. I smiled at the sweet bit of hero worship this blank slate just displayed.

“Thor, you helped create this?” Steve asked. He was panicked. He thought it was Ultron.

I put my hand on him.

“I’ve had a vision. A whirlpool that sucks in all hope of life and at its center is that.” Thor explained, pointing to the yellow stone embedded in the new life’s forehead. The same stone from the vision I’d had when I’d died.

“What the gem?” Bruce asked taking a step forward.

“It’s the Mind Stone. It’s one of the six infinity stones. The greatest power in the universe. Unparalleled in its destructive capabilities.” Thor explained.

As he spoke I approached the new life. He turned to face me and I reached up and touched the stone. He placed his hand on James and James stopped crying. I could see how the stone had been wanting so badly to be used, and that this was now the safest place for it. This being would protect it, and us with it. I let my hand drop.

Steve grabbed me and pulled me away. “Then why would you bring it here?” He snapped.

Thor interrupted him. “Stark is right,” Thor said.

Bruce sucked in his breath. “Oh, this is definitely the end times.”

“The Avengers cannot defeat Ultron,” Thor said.

“Not alone.” The new life added.

“Why does your vision sound like JARVIS?” Steve asked circling the new life. He was still so scared of it.

“We configured JARVIS’ MATRIX, to create something new,” Tony answered.

“I think I’ve had my fill of new,” Steve growled.

The new life turned to Steve. “You think I’m a child of Ultron?”

“You’re not?” Steve asked.

“I’m not Ultron. I’m not JARVIS. I am …” It paused. “I am.”

“Steve. He is safe. I felt him. He’s the answer. To all of this.” I said, putting my hand on Steve’s elbow.

Wanda approached the new life. “I looked in your head and saw annihilation.”

“Look again.” The new life said. I was surprised Wanda couldn’t already see. I could see everything. All the potential outcomes to what was being laid out before us. Her mind was much more strongly linked to that stone than mine. How did she not already see? I saw her scan him and relax. She accepted him as I did.

“Her seal of approval means jack to me.” Clint snapped.

“What about mine?” I asked.

Clint glared at me.

“Their powers. The horrors in our heads. Ultron himself, they all came from the Mind Stone and they’re nothing compared to what it can unleash.” Thor interjected. “But with it on our side …”

“Is it?” Steve interrupted. “Are you? On our side?”

There was a pause as the new life thought about its answer. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“Well, it better get real simple real soon.” Clint seethed.

“I’m on the side of life. Ultron isn’t.” He came over and placed his hand on James again. “He will end it all.”

“What’s he waiting for?” Tony asked as the new life drifted away from me again.

“You.” It answered.

“Where?” Bruce asked.

“Sokovia. He’s got Nat there too.” Clint answered.

“If we’re wrong about you … If you’re the monster Ultron made you to be …” Bruce said. He approached the new life like he was trying to threaten him with the Hulk.

“What would you do?” It asked. There was a long pause. “I don’t want to kill Ultron. He’s unique. And he’s in pain. But that pain will roll over the Earth. So he must be destroyed. Every form he’s built. Every trace of his presence on the Net. We have to act now. And not one of us can do it without the others.” It looked down at its hands. “Maybe I am a monster. I don’t think I’d know if I were one. I’m not what you are. And not what you intended. So there may be no way to make you trust me. But we need to go.” He reached down and lifted Mjölnir and offered it to Thor.

We all stared. No one was sure what to do. Thor took his hammer, dumbfounded as the new life walked away.

“Right,” Thor said. “Well done.” He patted Tony’s shoulder and followed his Vision.

Steve turned to the rest of us. “Three minutes. Get what you need.”

Everyone scattered to get what they needed. Steve turned to me. “You’re staying here.” He ordered.

“But …”

“No, buts. You’re staying here. We’re fighting robots. What do you think you will achieve being there? You’ll only distract me. You’re staying here and looking after our son.”

Our son. Not my son. Ours. I swallowed and nodded my head.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Come home to us.” I could feel tears prick my eyes. He took my cheek in his hand and kissed me. When he pulled away he leaned down and kissed James, running his palm over the top of his head. He took one last look at us and strode off.

// NEXT

[gooddadstan]

Son of Nemesis!Jason

So I may or may not have an obsession with Jason AU’s, and wrote this from a conversation on who the batfam would be the child of in a PJO AU where I immediately fell in love with Nemesis!Jay and made this. Hope you all like it!

There had been many things special about Jason Todd when he showed up at Halfblood Hill. For one thing, he’d arrived without the help of any guide, just coming over the hill battered and bruised. He hadn’t been claimed, which was average, but during the usual round of trying out skills to try and narrow down the list of possible parentage, they could only find an intense love for learning mixed with an apparent aptitude for most things athletic. While he was a very bright boy and a wonderful athlete, nothing he did stood out as skills given from a Godly parent, nor was there any indication of being claimed any time soon. They were forced to simply let him be, staying in the Hermes cabin and going through his routine as freely as he wished. He easily fell into a role of protecting others from the bullying of their peers and learned to fight with a conviction rarely seen even among the children of Ares, quickly carving his place as one of the most skilled demigods alive, happy and capable in a way few were.

Despite this, when he was chosen for a quest, many thought it was a fluke. The children given quests were always claimed, and that had been the truth for centuries. If not long beforehand then almost immediately after. As night fell and midnight passed, however, Jason was left unknowing. Many had their theories, the assorted cabins wanting to take the pride of being the home of a quest-taker, but none could say for certain.</p>

The quest muttered from the Oracle’s lips was a grueling one. Accompanied by Koriand’r, daughter of Hephaestus, and Roy, son of Apollo, Jason set off to kill a monstrosity that had tormented and killed demigods for longer than written history can say. They fought together well, caring for each other and saving each other’s asses whenever necessary. They laughed and they joked, moving across the world to follow the monster and getting closer and closer to stopping his reign of terror.

It was only in Ethiopia that things started to go south. A warehouse, one of many scattered around the hundred mile radius they’d tracked the monster down to. They’d split up, promising to send up their personalized distress signals should anything happen. Jason didn’t even have time to move his hand. One second, he was standing warily in the seemingly empty warehouse, and the next he was on the floor with his sword too far away to reach.

Despite their best efforts, they were doomed to failure from the start. After all, by the time Kori and Roy found they needed to get to that particular warehouse, and actually arrive on the premises, there wasn’t much to call a warehouse anymore. It was a pile of rubble on the ground, smoldering and reeking of burnt metal. Scattered debris dotted the landscape, and there was no sign of Jason or their monster. Kori, with her immunity to burns, searched for hours in between the beams, searching for a hidden basement, or the body of their friend under a piece of metal, and after enough time had passed for it to be safe Roy joined her. By nightfall they found nothing, and without the actual quest taker, they could do nothing but begrudgingly return to Halfblood Hill.

At their return, there was first a rise of jovial applause, before the hunched shoulders and clear lack of a Jason leading them brought the quiet somber lull the camp stayed in for weeks. With no body recovered, they were forced to only presume him dead, but the lack of activity on the monster’s end could only let them hope that he’d gone down with more of a bang than they’d thought.

A year passed, long and slow. Tales were told of heroes long gone, now peppered with more modern ones of a boy that helped the helpless and stopped a monster despite the odds. New Halfbloods arrived, older ones left to live in the mortal world, and life moved on. After that first year, the mood seemed to pick up significantly, the camp finally starting to truly move on.

Three years after Jason Todd, the unclaimed hero, died in Ethiopia, someone crossed over the crest of Halfblood Hill.

Expecting another raggedy teen, or even a confused child, it was a handful of nymphs who saw him first. They remembered him, always kind and apologizing if he scuffed his foot on a visible root or punched a tree in a not uncommon moment of frustration. They remembered him, but not as he was now. His eyes, once a soothing deep blue, are now an acidic green, piercing in a way that only meant threats. He donned a foreign assortment of blood red, ashy gray, and the tan of leather, knives and swords of celestial bronze scattered across his form. He was back, but not in the way any of the children at Camp Halfblood had ever hoped for.

It had been lunchtime, and the entire mass of demigods were concentrated around familiar tables as he watched them from above. This had to be perfect, they had to know exactly what hit them. They had to know it was him.

Getting down in front of the table of camp leaders was the easy part. He’d landed in a crouch that would leave some sore muscles later, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed and fought through, and stabbed a celestial bronze knife into the dead center of Bruce’s plate and into the table. Immediately, the man snapped to attention and rose, but his cold expression melted into one of worry as he just barely whispered, “Jaylad?”

Entirely on instinct, Jason snapped back with a simple “No.” His snarl growing as he stood up on the table, he held another knife in his other hand and gripped his empty one into a fist. “I’m not your fuckin’ ‘Jaylad’. You left me, Bruce. Your damned protocols made them leave me there in Ethiopia. I died, Bruce, not took some temporary trip to who knows where like it was all fuckin’ perfect, I died and you didn’t do jack shit about it. He’s still out there! That monstrosity is still out there killing people and you let it! You didn’t do shit about me, Bruce, and for that you’re going to pay.”

Jason brought his knife high into the air with more a display of dramatics than usefulness, and all hell broke loose. Celestial bronze clashed with celestial bronze, more demigods joining the battle as they all fight against Jason, who’s single-handedly keeping the disorganized mob of children at bay.

The battle hasn’t gone on long, though, when an unnatural glow begins to fill the room. Neither side knowing what it’s coming from, they look up to see a swirling mass above their heads. A scale, firey and writhing in an unnatural way slowly comes together above Jason’s head, bathing the tables and demigods in a bloody glow as they all seem to let out a simultaneous breath of understanding. “Nemesis.”

Jason, along with the rest of the room, was frozen. Now, he was being claimed. Now, after he’d gone off and died only to come back and be told that nothing was done, not even more than a search of the warehouse for a body by decree of the protocols Bruce put into place. Now, after she’d had so much fucking time. All at once, he threw down his dagger and sword, fleeing into the woods as his eyes burned an even brighter green.

He was sick and tired of these people thinking they could use him for means to an end, or dramatic effect. He’d show them how much they could control him. They’d regret all they’d done to him, or any other demigod they’d preyed on for so long. A son of Nemesis he was, a son of revenge he was, a tale of anger and hurt written into his bones. If he was fated to revenge, then he was going to make it hurt.</p>

~~~

The demigods that thought to ask Hades what happened to Jason Todd after his demise, those that remembered the tale of the son of Nemesis even after years had passed, unclaimed until after death, his suffering and how he turned it back on those that caused it. Those children of Gods that remembered to ask were rewarded with a laugh from Persephone, and a nearly indecipherable phrase about a sweet little boy and his smile, before Hades sent them away with a scowl.

[brn1029]

This is what went down on this date in Rock and Roll history!

October 6th

1959 - Jerry Keller

Jerry Keller was at No.1 on the UK singles chart with 'Here Comes Summer'. A One Hit Wonder, Keller went on to be a vocalist for television jingles throughout the 1970s and 1980s.

1972 - David Bowie

During sessions at RCA Studios, New York City, David Bowie recorded 'The Jean Genie', which became the lead single from his 1973 album Aladdin Sane. The track spent 13 weeks in the UK charts, peaking at No.2, making it Bowie's biggest hit to date. The line "He's so simple minded, he can't drive his module" would later give the Scottish band Simple Minds their name.

1973 - Cher

Cher started a two week run at No.1 on the US singles chart with 'Half-Breed', the singers second US No.1. The single didn't chart in the UK.

1978 - Johnny O'Keefe

Australia’s ‘King of rock 'n' roll’ Johnny O’Keefe died aged 43 of a heart attack. He was the first Australian rock’n’roll performer to tour the United States, and Australia’s most successful chart performer, with 29 Top 40 hits between 1958 and 1974,. O’Keefe’s 1958 hit, ‘Real Wild Child’, was covered by Iggy Pop in 1986.

1979 - Led Zeppelin

Led Zeppelin's In Through The Out Door was at No.1 on the US album chart. Six versions of the cover were released, each depicting the same bar scene photographed from one of six different angles.

1979 - Bob Dylan

'Gotta Serve Somebody' gave Bob Dylan his twelfth US top 40 hit when it entered the chart for the first time. Recorded at Muscle Shoals Sound Studios in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, the song won Dylan the Grammy Award for Best Rock Vocal Performance by a Male in 1980.

1998 - David Bowie

A music industry poll was published by London Magazine 'Time Out', naming the top stars from the past 30 years. 5th place was Marvin Gaye, 4th; James Brown, 3rd; Bob Marley, 2nd; The Beatles and first place went to David Bowie

2005 - The Rolling Stones

A The Rolling Stones concert at the University of Virginia, in the US, was halted eight songs into the show at the Scott Stadium after police received a bomb threat targeting the stage area. A 45-minute police sweep of the area found nothing unusual, and the band completed the show. The Stones were touring to promote their latest album, 'A Bigger Bang.'

watching this video on www.youtube.com</a>, or enable JavaScript if it is disabled in your browser.</div></div>

2007 - Bruce Springsteen

Bruce Springsteen was being sued for $850,000 (£415,973) by a man who claimed he backed out of a contract to buy a horse. Springsteen and his wife Patti Scialfa were both named in legal documents filed in Florida by Todd Minikus. He claimed the couple pulled out of a deal to pay $650,000 (£358,097) for a horse, named Pavarotti.

2010 - John Lennon

A set of John Lennon's fingerprints were seized by the FBI from a New York memorabilia dealer who intended to sell them for $100,000 (£62,621) minimum bid. The prints were taken at a New York police station in 1976 when Lennon applied for permanent US residence. The bureau believed the card was still government property and was investigating how it landed in private hands.

2011 - Starship

Starship's 'We Built This City' was named 'the worst song of the 1980s' in a poll by Rolling Stone magazine. 'The Final Countdown' by the Swedish band Europe came in second and 'Lady in Red' by Chris de Burgh was third. Also making the top five were Wham!'s 'Wake Me Up (Before You Go Go)' and 'The Safety Dance' by Men Without Hats.

2019 - Ginger Baker

Ginger Baker, the legendary drummer and co-founder of rock band Cream died at the age of 80. The drummer co-founded Cream in 1966 with Eric Clapton and Jack Bruce. The band released four albums before splitting in 1968, after which he formed the short-lived band Blind Faith with Clapton, Steve Winwood and Ric Grech. Baker, one of the most innovative and influential drummers in rock music also played with Blind Faith, Hawkwind and Fela Kuti in a long and varied career. In 1962, joined Alexis Korner's Blues Incorporated on the recommendation of Charlie Watts - who was leaving to join the Rolling Stones and later gained early fame as a member of the Graham Bond Organisation alongside bassist Jack Bruce.

2019 - Larry Junstrom

Larry Junstrom, a founding member of Lynyrd Skynyrd and longstanding bassist with the band .38 Special died at the age of 70. Junstrom played bass with Lynyrd Skynyrd from its formation in 1964 until he was replaced by Leon Wilkeson in 1971. He then joined .38 Special in 1976 with Donnie Van Zant, the younger brother of the Lynyrd Skynyrd frontman Ronnie Van Zant.

2020 - Eddie Van Halen

Eddie Van Halen, the revered guitarist and co-founder of the rock band Van Halen died at the age of 65, the Dutch-American musician had been receiving treatment for throat cancer. Halen, whose full name was Edward Lodewijk Van Halen, and his brother Alex Van Halen began performing together as teens, but formed the core of what would later become Van Halen after meeting David Lee Roth in the early seventies. Van Halen have sold more than 80 million worldwide, making them one of the best-selling groups of all time.

[aion-rsa]

Zack Snyder’s Justice League New Trailer Breakdown and Analysis

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It’s been nearly a year since it was officially announced, and we’re now only a month away from its arrival on HBO Max, but “The Snyder Cut” is very real. Zack Snyder’s Justice League is apparently complete, and after months of teases we finally have a full trailer, one comprised almost entirely of unseen footage.

If you haven’t seen it yet, you can watch it here…

Now, in order to properly give this the analysis it deserves, we’re not going to go chronologically or shot by shot. Instead, we’ll break this up into themes, characters, and events, and try to piece together the significance of each in relation to what we think the story is.

With that in mind, let’s start with the the character who has been the most central to Zack Snyder’s conception of the DCEU…

Superman

Zack Snyder started the DCEU with Henry Cavill starring as Superman in 2013’s Man of Steel. That first film told a detailed Superman origin story, and was followed by 2016’s Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, which not only introduced Ben Affleck’s Batman, Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman, and Jesse Eisenberg’s Lex Luthor, but it also killed off Superman at the hands of Doomsday. Superman’s resurrection was always intended to be a central piece of Justice League, and it’s front and center in the trailer for Zack Snyder’s Justice League…

Literally the first shot of the trailer appears to depict Superman’s resurrection. Here we have Cavill’s Supes, still with that gruesome, gaping chest wound that was inflicted on him by Doomsday during the climax of Batman v Superman, seemingly being resurrected.

Or…is he?

While the color scheme at first seems to reflect that of the Kryptonian scout ship which was the site of his resurrection in the theatrical cut, that doesn’t quite line up with what we’re seeing here. First of all, he wouldn’t still be wearing his ruined and bloody costume if that were the case. And if you look closely, there appears to be a giant, monstrous hand holding/lifting his body as he cries out.

In all likelihood, this is some kind of dream sequence, either a vision Superman himself sees as he dies, or perhaps how Darkseid and the forces of Apokolips are alerted to his death. The way his scream is represented by soundwaves here, and is juxtaposed with Eisenberg’s Luthor saying that “a bell has been rung” would seem to indicate the latter. It makes me think that this is something we’ll see early in the film to bridge Batman v. Superman with Justice League.

Here we have Jason Momoa’s Arthur Curry and Gal Gadot’s Diana watching some kind of holographic representation of Superman. This is almost certainly the ol’ “wow, wouldn’t it be great if this guy was around to help us whup some alien ass? It’s a shame you helped get him killed, Bruce!” kinda scene.

What’s really notable here, though is what a classic Superman pose this is. This is a really cool shot, and looks like a Curt Swan/Murphy Anderson drawing of the Man of Steel come to life.

Unlike that first shot, this is DEFINITELY from the resurrection of Superman scene. In the foreground there’s a photo of Kevin Costner as Jonathan Kent sinking in the water/chemical bath just as Cavill’s Superman is being lowered into it in the background. Costner’s “you’re here for a reason” speech here faintly echoes the one Glenn Ford as Pa Kent gave young Clark in Richard Donner’s Superman: The Movie, as well.

Amy Adams as Lois Lane seems to be coaxing a recently resurrected Clark to come with her, as they stand on the grounds of the Kent farm. With the distance between them, and Adams’ beseeching gesture, is it possible that at this point Clark is “alive” but not yet fully “aware” of who he is?

In the theatrical cut of Justice League, when the team first awakens Superman he’s disoriented and fights them. So the human connection, first with the woman he loves and then with the place he grew up might be what makes the difference and reminds him of his human soul, despite his Kryptonian upbringing.

Clark has put a shirt on here, so we can assume that this embrace with Lois and Diane Lane’s Martha (!!!!) is the following morning, after he has reacclimated to the land of the living, has his full mind and soul back under control, and is ready to deliver the feel-good ass kicking of the year to Steppenwolf, Darkseid, and a whole mess of Parademons.

And what better way to represent Superman’s “rebirth” than with an homage to the “first flight” scene from Man of Steel? I always liked the way they represent the onset of Superman’s powers of flight in that film, as it implies that he doesn’t just propel himself like a jet, but rather manipulates the very force of gravity itself around him.

And let’s face it, many folks have tried to bring the famed post Death of Superman/Reign of the Supermen black Superman suit to live action, but nobody has ever gotten it quite as right as what we see here. This looks really sharp.

There’s long been speculation that when Superman returns in Zack Snyder’s Justice League that he’s evil, or that his mind has been manipulated by Darkseid to make him a slave and another soldier of Apokolips. There’s plenty of precedent for that in both the comics and animation, and whenever you see “angry Superman doing heat vision eyes” in a Zack Snyder movie, it’s easy to assume that’s where we’re going. Especially considering the “knightmare” vision Batman had in Batman v. Superman, which is also present in this trailer (more on that in a minute).

I’m not entirely sure that’s not where we’re going, but at the moment, I don’t think that’s what happens. I just think that Superman wears the black and silver suit, likely as a way to augment himself while still relatively weak from resurrection, to deliver the aforementioned feel-good asskicking of the year to Steppenwolf and friends. Maybe. Don’t hold me to that.

Anyway, speaking of Steppenwolf and friends…

Steppenwolf

The biggest alterations to Zack Snyder’s Justice League come in the form of the main villain, Steppenwolf, and the addition of other villains (including Darkseid, Desaad, and Granny Goodness). Let’s start with Steppenwolf…

Get a look at Steppenwolf unmasked. He’s certainly um…distinctive.

They didn’t skimp on his armor, nor his axe. In fact, based on a very quick cut that sees him knock an Amazon warrior off her horse with his axe and drawing a considerable amount of blood splatter, I don’t think they’re going to skimp on the amount of damage Steppenwolf’s vibro-axe can do.

This is an interesting new shot, though. Steppenwolf kneels before what might be a boom tube opening, or is perhaps communicating with Apokolips via whatever that coffin-shaped device is.

Is he reporting his progress to Darkseid? Is Darkseid displeased with him? Does this sequence take place in the past or the present?

In fact, let’s talk about these new villains for a bit…

Darkseid, Desaad, and Granny Goodness

In addition to the redesigned Steppenwolf, we’re going to see some more baddies from Apokolips show their demonic faces in Zack Snyder’s Justice League.

This is a very cool shot, and it appears to depict the evil homeworld of Apokolips, and specifically the throne room of Darkseid himself. Apokolips is ruled with an iron fist by Darkseid, in stark contrast to its twin planet, New Genesis, which is populated by the heroic New Gods. All of these characters and concepts were created by Jack Kirby during his time at DC Comics in the early 1970s, and they’ve remained a cornerstone of the DC Universe ever since.

And here we have our best look at the unholy trinity in the background of Steppenwolf’s assault on Earth. From left to right we have Desaad (who is Darkseid’s advisor and torturer-in-chief), Darkseid himself, and Granny Goodness (who trains the armies of Apokolips).

You can see Darkseid wearing the omega symbol, which is also visible on the banners in the throne room. Darkseid’s eyes are glowing with what is known as the “Omega Effect,” a powerful energy he discharges from his eyes.

It’s not clear if this image of shirtless Darkseid swinging a warhammer of some kind takes place in the present or the past, or on Earth or Apokolips. It’s likely the past, though, perhaps when he was still known as Uaxas.

And speaking of the past…

Just like we saw in the theatrical cut, we’ll learn in Zack Snyder’s Justice League that this isn’t the first time that Steppenwolf and the hordes of Apokolips have visited Earth. Here we have Diana in some kind of temple (is it in Greece? On Themyscira?) looking at an old depiction of a conflict…one that certainly appears to depict at the very least the combined armies of Themyscira and Atlantis taking on the alien invaders. The “circular” ships in the sky line up with how we see the Apokoliptian craft elsewhere in the trailer…

Not sure if the above shot is contemporary or from a flashback, but we’ll get to all that in a moment. There’s another reference to Darkseid having made his way to Earth in the distant past…

While my Ancient Greek is rusty/non-existent, this seems to say something to the effect of “darkness” and “Darkseid,” so…yeah.

Note the cool depiction of a Mother Box, too. Something something, “any sufficiently advanced technology,” etc etc. Also, Darkseid seems to holding a spear or an arrow in that painting which…

Whatever that arrow is, it’s ancient, and may end up being key to defeating the forces of Apokolips. Now, as for this mysterious temple…is there any chance that it’s also this from elsewhere in the trailer?

Or was this something more ancient that was at one point the headquarters of Steppenwolf and his invading force?

Now, on to the rest of the heroes…

Cyborg

It has long been indicated that Ray Fisher’s Cyborg didn’t seem to get enough to do in the theatrical cut of Justice League. Zack Snyder has stated, however, that Cyborg is “the heart” of his intended Justice League story, and it seems like we’ll be seeing more of him in Zack Snyder’s Justice League.

Nothing too specific here other than how much more versatile he already appears, from the cannon on his shoulder, to what seems to be his comic book accurate sound cannon on his right arm, and more!

Perhaps more importantly, we’re going to spend a little time with Cyborg before he was Cyborg. Here’s Ray Fisher as Vic Stone, quarterback for the Gotham City University football team. We’ll likely see his origin on film, or at the very least get some more footage of Vic as a football star, but this shot in particular seems to be something a little different. Perhaps when Vic is navigating cyberspace, he still sees himself as he was when he was still whole…or maybe this is something else entirely.

As possibly indicated by…

If I had to guess (and this is only a guess), Vic is trying to interface with a Mother Box here, and it isn’t going well. Is this what sends him into that possible dream state from the image above?

Interestingly, the next shot seems to show the Flash appearing over his shoulder, is it to save him from whatever’s happening here? Or is Vic’s issue with the Mother Box bringing Flash back from somewhere else in spacetime?

And speaking of The Flash…

The Flash

We never really learned a heckuva lot about Ezra Miller’s Barry Allen/Flash in the theatrical cut of Justice League, but that seems like it’s going to change with The Snyder Cut.

Iris West

It’s been no secret that Kiersey Clemons’ Iris West, who was left out of the theatrical cut of the movie will finally make her debut here. This shot in particular of the rescue scene that has been teased several times is new to us, though.

The fact that it also involves food and condiments as Barry’s perception of events slows time down seems to pay homage to Flash’s first appearance in Showcase #4, in which one of Barry’s first super speed acts was to catch a spilled tray of food in a diner in mid-air before the waitress knew what had happened.

Henry Allen

Even though we saw Billy Crudup show up as Henry Allen in the theatrical cut, his appearance in the trailer here would seem to indicate that maybe Barry’s overall arc will feel a little more important in this version then it did there.

The whole “hands on the glass” thing was done quite a bit between the TV versions of these characters, played by Grant Gustin and the great John Wesley Shipp. But there’s one other similarity to the TV show worth pointing out…Henry is rocking the Jay Garrick look with the grey hair at the temples going on. With certain developments on The Flash TV series, this could also be an indicator of how things will be handled in the DCEU. And seriously, wouldn’t Crudup look badass as Jay Garrick? I wrote lots more about Jay Garrick, one of my favorite characters, right here.

Wonder Woman and the Amazons

Remember that while both Wonder Woman movies take place before the events of Justice League, Zack Snyder always intended his vision of the character to be pretty consistent between Batman v Superman (where she emerges “in public” to the world) and Justice League (which furthers that theme). This shot of kids in danger and not necessarily relieved to see an immensely powerful being who may or may not be coming to their rescue

We’re definitely going to get that massive flashback sequence (to the first “Age of Heroes”) where the mythical armies of Earth take on the first invasion from Apokolips in ancient times, and the Amazons are once again front and center.

This is just an extremely badass shot. I genuinely hope this flashback, which was pretty brief in the theatrical cut, is extended for a while here. The Amazons have backup of course…

Aquaman and Atlantis

As with Wonder Woman, it’s important to remember that Snyder was the one who cast Jason Momoa as Aquaman, and there’s likely elements of his Atlantean backstory that didn’t make it into the theatrical cut of the film.

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I’m just hoping that as with the Amazons, we get more of the armies of Atlantis kicking ass in ancient times. This former king of Atlantis (or Poseidon himself?) wearing Aquaman’s armor is a pretty cool shot.

Batman

I saved the Batman section of this for last because, well, on the surface ol’ Bats seems to get the least to do in this trailer. Or does he?

I’m only including this shot because it’s a reminder that Ben Affleck might very well be the best live action Bruce Wayne ever. Dude looks like if the Batman: The Animated Series version of Bruce stepped into the real world.

Anyway, here he is feeling guilty about the events of Batman v Superman. As he should.

A new Batmobile?

This doesn’t appear to be the “Knightcrawler” vehicle that Batman drove during the battle under Gotham Harbor in the theatrical cut so…what is it? From this angle, it does kind of remind me of the “bat-tank” version of the Batmobile that was made famous in Frank Miller, Klaus Janson, and Lynn Varley’s The Dark Knight Returns, which was a profound influence on Batman v Superman and the conceptualization of the DCEU Batman as a whole.

Is it possible that this shot, in which we see Parademons about to lift and flip the current Batmobile, is an indicator that it’s destroyed and Batman upgrades to something a little more heavy duty?

It seems plausible, especially since the reasoning for Batman driving a tank in The Dark Knight Returns came down to the fact that he had “modified her during some nasty riots.”

Detective Comics #27

And here we have the old reliable homage to the cover of Batman’s very first appearance in 1939’s Detective Comics #27…

Parademons might be a little tougher than those gangsters, though.

Knightmare

The “knightmare” dream sequence in Batman v Superman was one of the more controversial elements of the film, and it was used to justify Batman’s mistrust of Superman. In it, we saw a world ruined by the armies of Apokolips. It seems we’ll be revisiting that vision here, albeit this time with a twist…

Jared Leto’s Joker Returns

“We live in a society…” (seriously, dudes?)

OK, but for real, Zack Snyder revealed a bit about the return of Jared Leto’s Joker in a recent interview. In particular, if you’re wondering why Joker is dressed in police gear with a bulletproof vest, the director says he collects this stuff, as well as badges (presumably from officers he has killed). “He has tons of badges,” Snyder told Vanity Fair. “Those are his trophies.”

So the long-awaited meeting between Leto’s Joker and Affleck’s Batman isn’t part of the “main” story of the film, and instead takes place in a kind of dream sequence, like an addendum to the “knightmare” scene from BvS. We’re likely to learn a little bit more about their history in the course of whatever talk they’re going to have here, too.

And there you have it, folks…all the sense we could make out of this massive trailer for Zack Snyder’s Justice League. Spot anything else? Let us know in the comments!

Zack Snyder’s Justice League hits HBO Max on March 18.

The post Zack Snyder’s Justice League New Trailer Breakdown and Analysis appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[decaffeinatedfiregiver]

Outback Slot Machine Game

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The Outback Mystery slot machine by Konami is in many ways typical Konami!

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Tim Drake Fic Masterlist

For all your Tim Drake needs

I had already made one but i finally finished reading all of these so this list is CURATED. Pure quality. Mostly Gen. Organized by LENGHT from 130k words to 1k. But they’re all gems. The list is LONG hence the Read More.

Tectonic Doom – Paganpunk (130k) Dick and Tim head out for a week of brotherly bonding in the wilderness only to find themselves caught up in a scheme to put humanity on the ‘extinct’ list. T for language and frightening situations.

Juneberries – Misha Berry (68k) When Tim is taken, Damian has to come to terms with his own insecurities, and how he really feels towards his older 'brother’. When he does, it might be too late.

Our Favorite Timmers - Capucine (56k) When Tim is de-aged to about the age of five, Jason is the one who rescues him and brings him back to the manor. However, his family may find it a little shocking to discover what he was actually like at that age.

Matters of the Heart – DM (51k) With Clark off-world as an ambassador to Earth, Conner has to watch over Metropolis. Though it should be straightforward, there appears to be something amiss with seemingly random crimes happening around the city. Conner has a hunch that they’re connected and calls in his best friend to help. But as the two of them spend time together working the case, Conner realizes that his feelings for Tim might not be what he had thought.

Executive Assistant to the Batman – Heartslogos (50k) Tim is Bruce Waynes Assistant at WE and its very funny. Hes in desperate need of a break. Not that he gets any, I guess???  Exception to the completed rule, because it’s a series of snapshots kinda.

Myth-Bats – CatChan & Chibi NightOwl (43k) The Bats take on the Mythbusters. Why? Because some things are just too cool not to try in your spare time and with your family.

Bringing My Brother Home - Beathas (41k) Tim has been Robin for a year when a mysterious man begins stalking and threatening Batman and Robin. Is this the deceased Robin, Jason Todd? As Tim struggles to find a way to bring Jason home sane, his own less than stellar parents become more demanding of his future.

Invisible Fracture Lines – keeptogethernow (33k) Jason doesn’t really LIKE Tim, but given the amount of effort that he’s put into keeping the kid alive tonight, maybe he’s just in denial. Either way, this was NOT how he’d planned on spending his night.

Kodokuna Shoujo – C.R. Scott (30k) A tale of two Robins wrapped up in an Asian-style horror story. Tim Drake goes to Japan for business, both for Wayne Enterprises and Batman Incorporated. However, when he returns to Gotham City, its Damian Wayne who discovers he brought along more from his trip overseas than just his luggage and mission report.

The Impossible Journey – RavingNarniacAnarane (27k) Batbros broing it out. You like Journey to the Center of the Earth? I do. Note: Damian blames Drake. When Dick takes the opportunity to forge some brotherly bonding time, he didn’t expect it to turn so deadly. Following the mysterious disappearance of Tim’s uncle, the four bat boys (yes,Jason reluctantly included) find themselves taking a long plunge down towards the Earth’s core, and are left attempting to find a way back. And as Jason’s prefers: Alive.

Though The Sun Continues To Stand - MetropolisJournal (27k) As long as Tim Drake can remember, a dark guardian has haunted his life. He’s convinced that Batman needs a Robin to break him from his self-destructive spiral. Will Tim be up to the task?

Those Nightime Escapades - LazuliQuetzal (26k) Timothy Drake is a completely normal seventeen year old; he goes to school, enjoys photography, creeps out in the middle of the night to gather intel on Gotham's criminals -- wait, what? (Or, Steph is the third Robin, and Tim ends up as Oracle's sidekick-apprentice.)

Boy You Was Battle Born - MusicSpeaksToo (21k) AU where Jason survives Ethiopia and becomes a reluctant mentor/friend to Tim.

Where the Healing Begins (Fix You) - RascalJoy (21k) In which Tim's brothers knock some sense into his head.

Everyone Needs a Tim - WastedSanity (18k) 7 Tim-Centric drabbles.

Not Alone - TimeTrees (16k) Tim Drake's life is a complicated and sad thing. This is him trying to work through it.It wasn’t quite a crashing down moment — there was no sky falling on his shoulders, there were no monumental responsibilities, if he was living in reality he would have been completely, totally fine. If he stopped thinking, he would be fine

Whoopsie - Misha Berry (13k) A lapse in communication lands Tim in some big trouble. Maybe next time he'll think twice before taking a dip in Gotham River on a cold night.

When I Have Lost My Way – Teland (9k) Desperate times call for desperate measures. Though probably not that desperate.

Set My Mind to Wandering - Tabithian (9k) Tim is having a blast on vacation. The sights are amazing. The food is fantastic, and the people? So friendly. Five stars, would recommend.

American Ninja Worrier - DangerBeckett (8k)  It's just like Tim to give a poor college student a start in the business world. Kid's a bleeding heart, and usually, that's the sort of thing Jason avoids at all costs. He prefers his bleeding hearts on the literal side, and despite Bruce's best efforts, he's never had a head for business. Unfortunately, though, this time the business is ninjas, and that's the sort of thing that makes Jason take notice. Because Bruce is useless, and someone's gotta make sure Tim's new internship program doesn't take down all of Gotham. That's Jason's job, after all.

Heart, Humble – Betty (7k) Back then, all the boys his age had hero-worshipped costumed vigilantes. Jack supposes they still do.

Hey, Lawman! - dinolaur (6k) A clerical error leads to Tim going MIA during his lunch break and his family running around trying to find him.

Classics – The Protagonist. (6k) He has to learn this stuff some how. Or three training sessions in Tim’s early career as Robin.

A Simple Life - RenaRoo (5k) Tim Drake is living a simple life in one of the worst parts of Gotham. He makes the best of it, though. He makes for himself the only life he's ever known... He thinks.

In Living Memory - DangerBeckett (5k) When Dick and Jason get a rare peek into Tim's brain, Jason remembers why he stays out of other people's business. With his family, it inevitably ends in either life-threatening injury or Dick singing Disney songs. Sometimes both, if Dick doesn't dodge fast enough. Meanwhile, Tim doesn't see what all the fuss is about. Which is basically the entire problem, as far as Jason's concerned.

Tell-Tale - Incogneat_oh (4k) Or, the kids compete to see who should give Bruce bad news. But Jason doesn't take Tim and Bruce's fractured relationship into account.

A Little Bit of Sunshine, a Little Bit of Rain – Sookakkit (4k) For once, Tim is happy with his life.

Trouble Magnet – strikeyourcolors (4k) In which Tim Drake is terribly unlucky (even if he refuses to admit bad luck exists) and his brothers may or may not be trying to kill him. That’s what families do, right?

Normally People Pass Out After - WriterofGotham (3k) Tim Drake gives blood.

Exit Wounds - Incogneat_oh (3k) Did you hear this one? A vigilante walks into a warehouse and kills the joker.

Aiding and A-Betting - keep_me_alone (3k) Dick, Jason, Tim and Steph get up to some really stupid shenanigans in the Manor while no one is around. As expected, it doesn't really go well for any of them and Bruce gets real mad.

Road Rage Robin – Heartslogos (2k) “I’d be doing humanity a favor.” Tim grinds out, “And I would get away with it. I could totally get away with it. I’ve done worse."

The Time Weve Got - DawnsEternalLight (2k) Bruce offers to accompany Tim to the store for an emergency Red Bull run. Shocked, Tim accepts his offer and suddenly finds himself alone in the car with his adopted Father for the first time in a long time.

Making a List - HauntedLittleDoll (2k) Tim rereads some of his old books while benched.

Do the Wonders Ever Cease? - HeartsLogos (2k) His children are strange, strange creatures, Bruce thinks as he returns to his office.

The Art of Conversation - GlassGoblin (1k) Robin needs to talk to a friend, but everyone is a little busy. 

False Dichtonomy - HeartsLogos (2k) Red Hood calls Red Robin’s bandoliers “super convenient idiot handles”.

Meant to Be – The Protagonist (1k) Tim takes a bullet for Bruce Wayne at a press-conference and winds up sprawled and bleeding in his arms.

Family Portraits - ShariAruna (1k) “You don’t have any photo on your desk”, the new girl says. “Sorry?” “No photos”, she repeats. “People usually have photos on their desk. Family. Girlfriends or boyfriends. You know?” Family, girlfriends, boyfriends. Yes, Tim knows.

I Volunteer - GoodLuckDetective (1k) Tim is the type to volunteer for the hunger games, isn't he?

[ozarkianhillcrofters-blog]

Mark Kumming, Collector of Ozarkiana

By Curtis Copeland, The Society of Ozarkian Hillcrofters 

 In the world of the Internet and social media, Mark Kumming is becoming well known for his knowledge of Ozarks history, memorabilia, and almost all things Ozarkiana.  From posting photos of his personal Ozarks book collection, to images of Silver Dollar City and Branson area tourism memorabilia, to answering questions from followers about people and places of the Ozarks, Mark is actively becoming a guru of Ozarks regional culture.  

  A follower and fan of Mark myself, I felt fortunate to interview him and ask several questions, for his collection and knowledge is fascinating to me as well.  Although Mark spent his earliest years in the suburbs of St. Louis, Missouri, he eventually moved to Branson in his early teens.  Like many people, Mark Kumming’s interest in regional and local history was influenced at an early age by his parents.  “My dad would carry my brother and I, later our sister, all around St. Louis in the family van in the late 1960s and early 1970s. He took us to all kinds of museums and historic sites, primarily to keep us occupied on a day off from school or during summer vacation from school,” Mark said, when asked about how he became interested in history.

  His father had some interesting occupations.  These occupations, along with his father’s devoted interest in spending time with his children, led to some interesting experiences for Mark. “Dad was a licensed embalmer and funeral home director when I was very small, and so he had an interest in old cemeteries, too. I have been to all kinds of odd, strange, and unusual places around St. Louis that few life time residents even knew about. I thought it was fascinating to go to the Old Courthouse and stand in the room where the Dred Scott Decision was made or see all the stuff in the St. Louis Art Museum, the McDonnell Planetarium, and other such places.”

  Mark’s father later went to work for McDonnell-Douglas, an aerospace firm in St. Louis that had a US Government contract during the Apollo and Skylab Eras with NASA. He met many of the astronauts when they came to St. Louis for training prior to their space flights. He personally knew Gus Grissom and Neal Armstrong. Mark recalled one special experience, “Once, on a day off from school, my dad took me in the family car to a warehouse in the St. Louis area, so he could pick up some parts for Skylab and take them to another location to deliver them. When he came out a few minutes later he had a little Ziploc bag with some electronic circuits in it...part of Skylab! I got to hold that bag in my hands and take a good look at it...something that soon would go up into space! That was a big deal for a little kid, and I remember it well.”

   In 1973, Mark’s father felt that after spending time in the suburban areas of St. Louis, that he wanted his children to experience life in the country. The family moved to Perryville, MO, to a small farm on an Ozarks ridge just above the Mississippi River bottom lands.  Relocating to this region of the Southeast Missouri Ozarks reinforced his interest in the Ozarks, it’s culture and history. “I was about 11 years old. That summer, a local publisher printed THE PERRYVILLE ADVERTISTER, a little magazine with a bunch of ads in it. The publication featured several articles about local history and folklore, lost treasure legends, historic spots, church history, settlement history, and so on. It was something I ate up! I loved the legends and local history stories. It was the first piece of regional material that I kept. I still have it today.”   But it was not only the history of the local museums and history sites of the area that influenced Mark.  He began to have an appreciation for the natural features that make the Ozarks region so special. “My brother and I explored the Ozarks woods around our farm. We had a natural spring that bubbled up in our pasture, and we followed it through the woods down to a much larger creek that eventually dumped into the Mississippi. Along that stream there were caves, limestone water falls, and all sorts of cool things for little early teenaged boys to explore. That left a big impression on me, too.”

 During this time of the mid 1970’s Marks parents divorced. Although this was an unfortunate event, the silver lining was that his mother and stepfather worked for a large healthcare company, which had transferred them to Branson, Missouri. His family back in 1968 or 1969, had visited Branson for the first time on vacation right after the Beverly Hillbillies episodes aired on TV. They spent several days in Branson then, doing Silver Dollar City, Baldknobbers Jamboree, and other sights, which had made a great impression on young Mark.  In 1978, after his mother and stepfather had been transferred, Mark found himself in Branson once again, but as a resident, and thrilled to be living in the town that brought him so much joy as a young boy. “We lived for the first two weeks in the Branson Inn, while mom and stepdad looked for a house. Then, I got a job at the age of 15 at SDC in the Foods Department, working at the Vineyard (now the Wagon Works Restaurant.) We were enrolled in Branson schools in the fall. Life was good! Of course, now with the SDC "pass exchange program" a benefit which let employees of the park into Branson attractions at no charge, I had the ability to go to all the music shows, attractions, just about everywhere in town for free! It was fantastic!”, said Mark of his moving to Branson.

  This is the time when Mark began his collection of Branson, Silver Dollar City, and Ozarks memorabilia.  Many people are now thankful that Mark saved every pamphlet, small trinket, and many things people of the late 1970’s and early 1980’s considered unimportant, or even trash. “I slowly accumulated Ozarks related material beginning in this period. I kept everything my employers gave me at SDC. ...I am proud of saving from the SDC dumpsters several small pieces salvaged from the float trip and diving bell attractions when they were torn out and updated with the American Plunge and the Lost River.”  These early Silver Dollar City and Branson places of employment during his high school years gave Mark the opportunity to be surrounded by and participate in the “Ozarks-themed” tourist industry which he loved.  He also made a lot of friends in this “golden age” of early Silver Dollar City and Shepherd of the Hills attractions, that would become well-known locally, and influential to the community even today.  “I got a job as the concessions manager at Hee Haw Theater in 1981, it was a showcase for the Hee Haw TV stars. I transferred to the Attractions Department at SDC in 1979, and worked at Jim Owens Float Trip Ride, Rube Dugan's Diving Bell, Flooded Mine, Fire in the Hole, Grandfather's Mansion, Tree Top House (Huck Finn's Hideaway) the One Mule Swing, and did ad-lib street entertainment and was involved in one of the street feud skits regularly in the 1980 season. In 1981 I was second lead man at the diving bell. During this period, I graduated from Branson High School in 1980 and attended College of the Ozarks.” Mark stated about his early employment.

  Mark’s experience and knowledge was not only increasing in the areas of Silver Dollar City and Branson tourism, but also the Ozarks region and its history and culture. “My collecting continued, primarily buying Ozarks books at the SDC book store. I worked with many people from the old days of Branson tourism at SDC, so I heard many old stories of what it was like in the area from decades past. Also, I went to high school with Jack Herschend's son, Bruce Herschend (who now runs Talking Rocks and Butterfly Palace) and Kelly Trimble, Mark Trimble's son, who had Shepherd of the Hills at the time. I went to high school and college with Jace Land, whose grandpa was Townsend Godsey, noted photo journalist of the Ozarks, and a contemporary and friend of Vance Randolph, Otto Ernest Rayburn, Harry Truman, and Thomas Hart Benton. Jace taught me some photography basics, too.”

  In 1984, Mark’s educational and career path took him away from his friends and favorite places of Branson.  He went to Southeast Missouri State University in Cape Girardeau to study mass communications and business. During this time at SEMO University he was classmate with a man that went on to a big career in TV and film, Cedric the Entertainer. They had mass communications classes together and were friends at the time.

 Later in 1984, Mark began a 20-year career as a radio broadcaster, working as a disc jockey, announcer, news reporter and news director at radio stations in Cape Girardeau, Dexter, and Kennett, MO. All these towns are in the bootheel area of Missouri. In 1990 Mark moved to Forrest City, AR to continue radio there, and met and married his wife, Janette. He became an instant husband and stepfather. In less than three years their oldest daughter had her first child, and he was a grandpa for the first time. Mark and his wife now have two daughters and ten grandkids.

  Mark had a very successful career during his twenty years in radio.  He received several awards and met many celebrities, politicians and influential people. He received the Distinguished Service Award from the Journalism Department at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock in 2000. He was a stringer for the ARKANSAS GAZETTE newspaper in Little Rock, and THE COMMERCIAL APPEAL newspaper in Memphis, TN.  Mark contributed news on a regular basis to the Arkansas Associated Press Broadcasters Association, the Arkansas Radio Network, the Brownfield Ag Network, and the Learfield Data News Service. As a news reporter he covered events attended by President Reagan, Vice President George Herbert Walker Bush, and met and interviewed such people as Barbara Bush, Bill Clinton, Academy Award winning actress Mary Steenburgen. Mark also went to press events featuring Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood. He interviewed Ricky Phelps of the Kentucky Headhunters. Mark also had the opportunity to interview Jesse Jackson, was part of a press pool that covered a press conference featuring author John Grisham, and met and interviewed three Missouri governors, and five Arkansas governors and was on a first name basis with Mike Huckabee when he was Arkansas governor.

  During that 20-year timespan of being in his radio career and raising a family, Mark’s collecting of Ozarkiana and memorabilia had come to a standstill.   They had vacationed in Branson a couple of times over the years, but that was about all. “I still was interested in local and regional history, and as a news reporter did many stories on local and regional history topics, festivals, and so on. All that stuff was Mississippi Delta Region material, not Ozarks material.”

  Then in 2003, Mark’s wife, Janette, had an opportunity to move to northwest Arkansas and double her salary. She had a great career working in medical offices doing billing, Medicare, Medicaid, insurance contracts, etc., so they moved to Rogers, Arkansas. Unfortunately, Mark’s radio career had ended, and he went into construction work for a while, then was a clerk in an emergency room at a hospital in Springdale, Arkansas for nine years. “My, how my eyes were opened! This was much different work than entertaining in Branson or being a radio broadcaster.”

   When that job ended, Mark became a clerk in a government contractors firm in Rogers for four years. When that job ended in 2017, he became a substitute teacher in the Pea Ridge School District. Mark and his Janette moved to Pea Ridge in 2007. In January of 2018, the Pea Ridge Community Library made Mark their children's storyteller.  He also has done freelance writing on Ozarks topics since 2010. “No money in it, but I have had about 150 articles published in regional magazines and newspapers. I am regular contributing writer for THE MISSOURI CHIGGER magazine published at Lowry City, MO.”

   After moving to Rogers, Mark was once again able to turn his sights towards his Ozarks collection. “I went at it full throttle when we moved to Rogers. My wife and I began going to yard sales, and I started picking up material like old out of print books on Ozarks topics. Then I discovered several fine used book stores and "friends of the library" type book stores, where material was sold cheap. I built a library of Ozarks material over the last 15 years. At times, I ran out of space, or found myself in an economic bind, and sold huge chunks of the library for cash at yard sales we held or traded material for better stuff with the secondhand book stores. I have two double book shelves full of Ozarks material. I have a closet packed full of other material I have found in flea markets and antique stores.”

  Mark’s collection began to make its online appearance in 2010, when he joined the www.sdcfans.com web site, a web page for the fans of Silver Dollar City.  “I posted over 2000 posts on that site [www.sdcfans.com] and began a Flickr account to post SDC and Hee Haw Theater photos. I found that all that stuff I had saved for over 30 years from my youth at SDC and Hee Haw was now interesting to someone other than myself! A younger generation who had only heard about this stuff was amazed when I started posting scans of my collection on line, and they marveled at the stories of old time Branson and SDC of the 1970s and early 1980s.”  In 2013, Janette bought him a computer tablet, and his son in law signed him up for a Facebook account. “Over time I discovered the Facebook group pages I now contribute to. Now I administer the Hee Haw Theater Facebook page in honor of the people who worked at the theater with me. SDCFans.com began a Facebook page, and the administrator asked me to be a co-administrator with him, so I do some work there. I am very pleased to be able to share my knowledge about Ozarks topics with folks on those group sites.” Mark also stated that he is pleased to be an active member of the Society of Ozarkian Hillcrofters and enjoys sharing his collection with that group as well.

  Mark’s sharing of his collection is not just in cyberspace. He was amazed when Josh Heston invited him to the State of the Ozarks Festival in 2017 at Hollister, where he had a booth with items from his collection. He felt honored to be a part of the festival and could visit with people directly about his collection of Ozarks memorabilia.

 I asked Mark some specifics about his collection. “Regarding the rarest piece I have, it is a copy of M.E. Oliver's "STRANGE SCENES IN THE OZARKS," a handmade book limited to a printing of 400 copies. I’m very pleased to have that. I have tons of brochures, postcards, and many other pieces of paper goods that promoted or told of aspects of Ozarks.”  Mark has some advice for those interested in being collectors themselves. “If I could give anyone a tip on what to collect I would say to seek out the many, many small cheaply made booklets that Ozarks natives made and peddled to tourists in the 1950s through the 1980s. These little books contain many gems of Ozarks history, little tidbits that the bigger books by the university presses don't discuss. Some of those books include one by Silver Dollar City's first Marshal, one by a miller at Sullivan's Mill at SDC. Also, books written by the eccentric "Coin" Harvey at Rogers, AR who founded the Monte Ne Resort in the 1920’s, and books by a Bentonville, AR man, J. Dickson Black, who did several books on northwest Arkansas history.”

   Mark met several interesting people, some of them old timers, along the way during his collecting. He had the opportunity to get acquainted with Walker Powell from Silver Dollar City, he met Ozarks author Phillip Steele a couple of times, during his time freelance writing.  Mark had encounters with Jack and Pete Herschend, and helped train Branson area entertainment legend, Terry Wayne Sanders at Silver Dollar City. “I was a coworker with many good, good people who worked at SDC, the Branson music shows, Shepherd of the Hills play...gosh, I worked or was friends with many good folks from Shepherd. There are many stories I could tell if time permitted.”

  Not only is Mark a collector, but he is also an accomplished author.  He has had some 150 freelance stories published in regional periodicals.  He also used the CreateSpace platform on the Internet to publish his first collection of poetry. It is a small chapbook of poetry and photos titled “REFLECTIONS ON THE BATTLE OF PEA RIDGE IN POETRY AND PHOTOGRAPHS”. It is currently available on amazon.com. “I have seen the printed proof of the little book, and I'm proud of it, although I do not expect a little book of Ozarks poetry to sell more than a handful of copies.” He stated with a chuckle.  

  Mark intends to continue his writing efforts. “I do have plans on publishing some of the Ozarks articles that have appeared in print in magazines and newspapers in the months and years ahead. There is a lot of material that I have in my filing cabinet. I do have plans on issuing a history and memoir of my diving bell days and my time at Hee Haw Theater when time permits.”

  Mark is also continuing his new career in education as well. Although he is currently substitute teaching in Pea Ridge Schools, he hopes to be able this summer to begin to study and obtain a teacher’s license, and teach full time in Pea Ridge Schools, hopefully beginning in fall. “It will be a long, hard process for me, but I hope at this time to accomplish this. It hopefully will be a career until I am eligible to retire at age 68.”

   Mark Kumming’s lifelong interest in the Ozarks, and his collection of Ozarks memorabilia has become something much more than the hobby of an individual.  It has become an important historic record of the region and a source of education for this and future generations.  The excitement that Mark has had for Ozarks history and culture, and his willingness to share the collection, has created an interest in the Ozarks that is essential for the preservation of the unique culture of the region.  □