#that said. the comm queue should be finished up soon

[avengerscompound]

Running to a Standstill - 16

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1849

Rating:  E

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers.  While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 16

By the time you and Bucky got home, Geo was awake again.  Bucky had given him a punnet of blueberries to eat on the elevator ride up. As soon as the three of you arrived at Steve’s apartment, the toddler jumped out of his stroller and carried the rest of the berries to the coffee table where he immediately started playing with his Lego.

“Good.  You’re back,” Steve said, approaching the two of you.  “Honey, I can’t say too much.  But we’ve finally got a solid lead on who has been hunting you.  We have to act quickly and hit hard. We’re leaving Hill, Agent 13, and some agents here.  There’s also some of the Iron Legion.  Stay put.  You’re safe in the building.  Don’t order food to be delivered.  There’s the common room and a cafeteria on four if you don’t feel like cooking.  If Geo gets bored, get FRIDAY to take you up to the party deck or the pool, but do not leave the building for any other reason.”

Bucky was used to Steve in the ‘take-charge, voice of authority’ mode he got into when he had slipped on the Captain America persona.  Bucky had always taken comfort in it.  When Steve was like this, as dumb as he might seem, Bucky trusted he had some kind of plan of attack.  The look in your eye told him that you weren’t as comforted as Bucky was.

You had the wild-eyed look of a cornered animal, not sure whether to lash out or run.  Steve put his hand on your arm and looked in your eyes.  “This is it, sweetheart.  We do this, and you’ll be free from it.  You just have to trust us for a little longer.”

You nodded, and he kissed your forehead.  “You stay safe.”

“You too, Steve,” you said quietly.

Bucky ruffled Geo’s hair and kissed your cheek.  “We’ll see you soon, okay?”  He said, hoping he sounded optimistic and comforting.

“Okay,” you said, obviously not buying it.

He looked back over his shoulder as he left the apartment following after Steve, seeing that you’d gone to sit with Geo.  Something on his face told him you were going to prepare to run.

“You might need to tell Hill that she’s a flight risk,” Bucky said as they both got on the elevator.

“She knows,” Steve said.  His jaw was clenched, and it twitched slightly.  It was hurting him knowing how scared you were and that that fear was potentially a little more potent than the bonds you’d formed with them.

Bucky rubbed Steve’s shoulder.  “We’ll end this.  Tell me what’s going on.”

The doors opened on the armory, and they both strode in and started suiting up.  Clint, Natasha, and Sam were all in there, getting the last of their gear.  It looked like they had already been briefed, and they were just waiting for Bucky to get back.

“The intel came back,” Steve said, as he pulled on his body armor.  “The drugs trace back to the Madripoor government.  Three manufacturing plants control distribution.  It all goes back to their current ruler.  Ophelia Sarkissian, or as she is also known, Viper, the current head of HYDRA.”

“So it was HYDRA?”  Bucky asked, buckling the last few straps on his suit.

“Yes,” Steve said, picking up his shield.  “Though not originally.  IGH was its own thing.  When Jessica Jones broke up their operation, HYDRA swooped in and collected up the scraps.  With the work they gathered using Loki’s scepter, paired with what they found from IGH, they were able to re-create a drug similar to the combat enhancers that IGH were selling to the American Military, but with more erratic side effects.  It looks like they want Geo to see if they can work out how to make a more permanent drug.”

“So, what’s the plan?”  Bucky asked, shouldering the last of his weapons.

Steve indicated to the door and Bucky, and the others followed him back to the elevator.  “We’re going in teams - four in total.  Three will be hitting the manufacturing plants,  the other - Castle Madripoor.  Each team will have additional agents with them.”

The elevator stopped, and they got out onto the landing bay.  One jet was ready for take-off, and the other three were being prepared and waiting in a queue to use the launch pad.  Everyone gathered around Steve.

“Team one is Sam, Wanda, and Clint,” Steve said, speaking to everyone but without breaking his flow with Bucky.  “Two are Rhodey, Natasha, and Bruce.  The third will be Bucky, Vision, and Tony.  Your groups will be the ones hitting the plants.  It’ll be important you not let anyone get out and get as much data as you can.  Carol, Thor - you’re with me.  The full briefs will be given on the jets.  We know HYDRA.  They are good at spreading roots.  We need to rip it all out in one go.  If they have any of this hiding elsewhere, we need to find it.  Any questions?”

When no one spoke up, the teams all split up.  Steve grabbed Bucky’s arm before he went to his Jet.  “Be careful, Buck,” he said.

Bucky smiled and pressed his forehead against Steve’s.  “You too.  We’ll get them.  We stopped them coming for Wanda and me.  We’ll stop them coming for her too.”

Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath before breaking apart and heading to his jet.  Bucky ran to the plane his team was using. They were already in place and waiting for him.  Tony was in the cockpit with one of the agents Bucky had seen around; he thought her name might be Jacobs.  “Finished making kissy faces with your boyfriend, Barnes?”  Tony said and started flicking switches, preparing to take off.

Bucky put his machine gun into one of the racks and sat down, buckling himself into the jumpseat.   “So, what’s the plan?”  He said.

“Me and Viz are gonna jump out before we get in sight of the island and go ahead.  Viz is going to stealth in, get the data.  I’ll come in after - seal off the place.  You and the rest, land, and circle in and lock everything down,” Tony explained.  “Should be a piece of cake.  The castle is going to be the bitch, but Cap squared should be able to handle it.”

Bucky nodded and sat quietly, letting himself fall into the dark space he always went into when he had to fight.  He was a little worried about going back to you when he was done with this.  It still took about a week to shake off the soldier after a battle like this, and you hadn’t seen him like that.  Overriding that was the concern that you wouldn’t be there at all.  He couldn’t help but worry that he’d get back home, still in the winter soldier headspace, and he’d find you and Geo missing.  He didn’t quite know how he’d survive that.  Or at least the him that had started to heal and feel worthy since you, Steve, and he had started seeing each other.  That soft part of his person that was so fragile and so hopeful would never see the light of day again if that happened.

By the time Tony and Vision had left the jet to hit first, Bucky was buried in the dark zone of the soldier.  Aware of every flicker of movement, every sound made, every color in the room, yet not at all attached to his emotions.  Like he was an empty shell that processed the physical and nothing else.

The jet landed, and Bucky led the team out the cargo bay hatch.  “Branch out, we’re going in on all sides,” he ordered.  The agents followed his instruction, circling the factory. 

The sound of fighting was already loud, making him sink further down into that place inside him that HYDRA had made.  Tony circled overhead, and a series of explosions rocked the nearside of the factory.  Bucky shouldered his machine gun and ran.

Armed guards met him at the now destroyed fence around the facility.  Other workers were running around wildly, but from the looks of it, it didn't take too much to get them to drop to the ground and surrender.

The guards were more difficult.  They had HYDRA tech, and there were a lot of them.  Bucky wasn’t concerned.  He never was when he got into this state.  He had a mission - he would complete it.  Besides, he knew HYDRA better than he knew himself.  He knew how they fought.  He knew their weapons.  He knew how to take them down.

He moved quickly and without hesitation.  He shot two guards before he even reached the factory.  He leaped over the remnants of the fence and took out three more.  He ducked behind a wall and tossed a grenade at a truck that was barreling toward some agents.

A wall exploded nearby, and Bucky ran to the hole, jumping through it.  Some HYDRA goons were inside shoveling pills into their mouth.  Bucky took each of them out and ducked to the side as someone came charging at him.  They lumbered through the wall and out the other side.  “Stark,” Bucky called over the comms. “They’re taking the pills.”

“Shit,” Tony cursed.  “I’ll take care of the supers; you see if you can secure the drugs.”

Bucky moved through the room, taking out anyone that behaved aggressively, putting anyone else in cuffs.  Outside he could hear the battle.  It was already dying out.  While the plant was guarded, it wasn’t a military stronghold.  Bucky moved to an elevated position and watched over the room.  Another guard made a play for the drugs, and he took them out with his sniper rifle before they reached them.  Besides that, the room remained quiet.  The sounds from outside started to die off and then went silent.  A few agents came in and began rounding up the people in cuffs, but Bucky stood and waited.  He had a mission, and he’d stand here until it was done.

Tony flew in and landed next to Bucky.  “Hey, robocop,” he said, his visor sliding back.  “Vision’s still downloading the data.  We’re doing a cleanup.  We kinda need to be quick because this is technically an act of war.  They’re breaking international law, but they’re gonna retaliate.”

Bucky nodded, watching as even more agents came in and began packing up the drugs and equipment.

“You gonna be okay watching this?  I’ll go patrol.  We should be fine given there’s an attack going on on the castle right now,” Tony said.

Bucky nodded again.  “You heard anything?”

Tony clapped him on the shoulder.  “The other factories are ours.  Still working on the castle.  Your boyfriend is fine so far.”

Something relaxed inside Bucky.  He didn’t say anything as Tony took off again, and even as he stood there, keeping watch of the operation, a small smile cracked through the hard exterior as he realized that he did still have that soft part of him, even now.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #running to a standstill

[detroitbydark]

Crossed Connections: Part IV

Characters: Tech x Togruta!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Selling his vods is looking like a really good idea at this point.

Previous Parts and Interludes can be found on my Masterlist HERE

From: Tech-Vod

To: Grutababy

I'm going to say this one time only. 

You are not a bad friend. 

You may be one of my only friends. I have my brothers but you are different. You chose to talk to me and each time you do it is a bright point in my day. You are important to me. 

 I imagine your job is stressful. Is there anyone you can talk to? A co-worker maybe. If not, have you thought about finding someone to talk to in addition to me? Find someone who looks friendly. Maybe a stranger in the lunch room. Walk up and say 'hello'. I can't imagine someone would ever turn down a chance at your company.    

Bear with me? Work is crazy. Big assignments coming up. Killer deadlines. I am going to try my to write back as soon as I can. If you do not hear from me for a time, know that it is not you. Work just has me a system away. I want to share with you. Please believe me. I will start sharing things with you. What I do is... hard to explain.  

------

“Tech. finish up the love letter. We've got work to do" Hunter growls. Tech quickly hits send as the ship enter atmo. He maneuvers through noxious black clouds, the Marauder jostling with the occasional updraft of superheated air. Tech lets his focus shift from Y/N to the task at hand.

“Will your lady love be waiting on the tarmac when we get home.” Crosshair’s voice echos through the comms. Tech taps the controls and the ship banks left, hard and fast. The sniper tumbles into Wrecker's gonk. 

“I think It’s gonna be a rough landing.” Tech quips grinning “It seems now would be a good time to buckle in.”

Wrecker laughs.

Crosshair runs a hand over his helmet as he unfolds himself. “You don't say?” 

“Enough fellas” Hunter eyes shift from Tech to Crosshair. The sniper is slowly climbing to his feet, adjusting his armor. Wrecker holds his hands up.

“I didn’t say anything, Sarge .”

With a deep breath Hunter brings himself back to center. Sometimes, it was like dealing with younglings.

The Marauder drips suddenly finding a pocket of dead air. They lose 15ft of altitude in a matter of seconds before its decent stops. In unspoken synchronization, each clone tightens their safety belts. The smell of the rotten sulfuric smoke that hung in the air was already permeating the ship and they hadn’t even popped the doors yet.

“Remember” Hunter begins “This is recon only. We are NOT to initiate contact. Do you hear me Wrecker.” The big man rolls his shoulders and grumbles lowly.

“I got you Sarge.”

“Good. I need you on point. Cross?” The sniper looks up from last minute check of his rifle. The ship lands with a soft jostle, the heat already rising as its switches into standby. “I want you up top somewhere. Eyes in the sky.”

“Roger that Sarge”

“Tech you’re with me, need you to do a little slicing”

Techs eyes wrinkle in delight before he flips his visor down, “As always, you speak my language.”

“Alright boys, easy does it” the four clones queue up at the door “following Wrecker in three... two... one...”

The mission goes belly up in under an hour, less than two klicks from the ship they run into Seperatist forces.

———

“Y/N!”

“Sir?” You look up from where you’ve been tasked with counting supplies. Boxes of bacta and dressings lay scattered at your feet. You haven't gotten nearly as much done as you'd hoped. I message from you Galaxymance match has had you distracted all day.

 Kix motions for you. You drop everything and jog over.

“I've got the Bad Batch coming in hot” he begins before you've even come to a stop at his side “their birds banged up and they’ve been through the ringer”. You nod as the clone continues to explain the situation. “I need you to lead up the exam. They did well with you last time.”

“Sir?” You question. Though you’d worked with the Batch one other time  a week back you weren’t sure you were the right one to take over their rotation. 

“That’s an order.” He clarifies “if it looks like it more than you can handle or anyone comes off that ship missing a limb you call in back up. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir.” You needed to clear a bay and find a med droid ASAP.

You’ve only just got everything ready when your patients all stumble into the room. Crossfire is propped between Wrecker and Hunter. Tech hobbles in behind. The Med droid, 2-1B, hums to life as you point to the table.

“I need him there.”

“I’m fine” the sniper grumbles as Wrecker unceremoniously dumps him onto the table. His skin looks paler than the last time you’d seen him and his eyes struggle to focus as you flash each with a light. He looks like shit.

“Try that one again later. Ok?” You glance around to the teams engineer still standing near the door and point to another exam table. “You. There. Helmet off.” He stares in your direction, stupid visor still flipped down obscuring whatever look he was giving you. “I said now, Trooper” irritation flares in your chest as he hesitates. 

Wrecker laughs as he leans up against the wall, you glance his way as 2-1B begins scanning Crosshair.

“Easy Ik’aad. He took back to back blasts. It might take him a minute”

“Ik’aad?” You hear Tech make a noise across the room and Crossfire, still dazed, barks out a weak laugh.

“Just a term of endearment for our favorite medic, Ik’aad” the sniper warbles.

“Would you children let her work” Hunter interrupts, voice like gravel. You nod thankfully. Tech is pulling his helmet off as you round on him. He pushes back on to the exam table, sitting straight up as you begin your once over.

“That’s better. Now let me get a good look at you.” You start with a simple scan, no internal injuries. Vital signs are satisfactory even if his heart rate is up a little bit.

“Easy Tech. I’m not gonna hurt you.” You try to soothe quietly. He doesn’t move as you reach up and slip his goggles off his face. He’s so stiff sitting there in front of you so you try to lighten the mood as you check his pupillary response. His skin is cool as you cup his cheek to hold him still. “Anyone ever told you, you’ve got pretty eyes?”

Crosshair makes a choking sound and you round on him only to see the Loth cat-like grin crossing his face. “We’ve all got the same eyes. Clones remember?”

“Well maybe you’ve all got pretty eyes than?”

Wrecker laughs. “I like you.”

“I can die happy now” you grumble. Hunter bites back what sounds to be a chuckle. You switch spots with 2-1B.

“The clone’s scan has shown no injuries requiring further treatment at this time, though a concussion can not be ruled out without further medical studies.”

“Thanks Too-Bee.” You give Hunter a questioning look and he seems to read your mind. What the kriff happened?

“The Seps got the jump on us, they laid out two concussives before we were able to do anything about it. Cross took the worst of it. Tech got part of the second one going to give him back up.”

“It’s ok, Ik'aad" That name again, coming from Wrecker “Got rid of every last clanker I could get my hands on." His chest puffs up proudly and you reach up to pat it as you skirt by.

Grabbing the holopad off the wall you begin charting your findings and filing the medical report. The sniper had a concussion, you didn’t need “further studies” to tell you that and the way Tech was moving he likely had a sprained ankle-

“This Clone appears to have torn a peroneal tendon” 2-1B drones

So a torn tendon it was. You glance up at Tech and catch him watching you. The soft way his eyes follow your movements makes your heart flutter and than the look is gone and he’s tapping away at the pad in his vambrace leaving you confused at the momentary feeling. Moving around the room you search a pair of drawers, finally pulling out what you were looking for.

“Looks like you boys have earned some bacta shots and a few days rest.”

———

“Ik’aad? Ik’aad?!” Tech is seething, voice coming out in a hiss as he glares ahead of him. Crosshair chuckles tiredly at his side.

He adjusts his goggles, taking a moment to squeeze the bridge of his nose between two fingers. The sensation of your skin, warm and alive against his is burned into his memory. The way you’d tried to soothe him when you thought he was scared was sweet. If only you’d known the truth. This was getting out of hand fast. The warning look Hunter had given him before he and Wrecker had excused themselves let him know, the Sargent agreed.

The pair continues to shuffle slowly down the empty corridor towards the barracks. Tech’s got a headache rapidly growing and his ankle hurts like hell. He leans into his vod for support, refusing to look his way as he continues to grumble in disgust. The sniper can’t leave well enough alone.

“Should we have called her Grutababy?”

Tech wonders if Hunter would care if his sniper turned up dead.

Taglist: @skdubbs @pastelbunny1501​

If you'd like to be added to the TagList drop me a line and let me know.

#star wars #clone trooper tech x reader #tech/reader #tcw #the bad batch #crossed connections

[main-to-card-games-and-pain]

Hc where Peter and Tony are on some sort of mission and push comes to shove---Peter ends up kidnapped or separated, Tony is hurt and separated and they both think the other is dead. Queue the reunion where Peter busts out and finds Tony and how relieved and freaking happy they are (bonus points if they jsut launch at each other, basically falling to the ground and Peter is crying and Tony's crying and it's beautiful but angst y until that moment

This one got WAY out of hand but IT WAS SO G O O D I couldn’t resist!!! So yup please enjoy this pain. 

“Peter! Peter stay close to-!” The inventor was suddenly cut off as another explosion wracked the building, sending him flying. 

Steve was shouting something at him from the comms but Tony didn’t care, he couldn’t see Peter. 

He never should have brought him on this mission. This mission was never supposed to be this dangerous. They’d been told it was in-and-out, steal some information and leave, minimum security, fairly small building. It was perfect for the kid to come with, he was nimble and fast, small enough to crawl around the vents, and safe. 

Then alarms had started to blare and explosions had begun to detonate, sending the building shaking. 

“Peter!” He had been right there, where did he go? “Spider-Man, location, now!” Tony knew his voice was unnaturally tight, angry sounding even, even though the only emotion running through his blood was heart-stopping panic. “Peter!” 

A hand grabbed his own and Tony was suddenly able to breathe again.

“I’m right here, Mr.Stark,” the child yelled over the roar of the destruction, urging him further down their path to freedom.  

That’s all Tony needs to bolt down the steps, dragging his teenager behind him. Peter was suddenly pulled away from his grasp, hard enough that Iron Man lost his balance and tumbled down the last few stairs. The nanites in his suit recognized the damage and disengaged, for now. 

“Mr.Stark!” 

Tony looked up just in time to see the ceiling fall on top of his kid. He screamed. 

Peter felt himself be ripped away, saw Mr.Stark fall down the stairs. He tried to crawl towards him, only to be ripped backwards by a grip on his ankle. “Mr.Stark!” He struggled for freedom, meeting Mr.Stark’s eyes for just a moment before the grip ripped him backwards and the ceiling fell through. 

Something pricked his neck and Peter knew no more.

Tony woke up with the scent of grass surrounding him. There was a burn in his throat that he couldn’t place and a full-bodied ache radiating from his bones. The grass was nice though. It reminded him of when he and Peter had taken a picnic. 

The mechanic’s whole body jerked in panic. “Peter,” he gasped, “Peter, Peter, where’s Peter?” 

Rhodey was by his side in an instant, supporting his head as he tried to sit up and looking far too heartbroken for Tony’s liking. Steve and the rest of the team were leaning over him in the next few seconds, all looking worried and distraught in their own ways, none of them willing to meet his eye. 

“Steve,” it sounded like the inventor was begging, “where’s Peter?” 

“I’m sorry…” the super-soldier said, looking genuinely upset. “We didn’t-”

“No.” Tony remembered the ceiling coming down, seeing Peter’s terrified eyes. “No, you did not leave him there.” 

“It was the only way,” Natasha whispered, not meeting his eye. “You would have died too if we didn’t get you out.” 

“No!” Devastation ripped its way out of Tony’s throat. “No! You couldn’t have-! Tell me you’re lying! Tell me that you didn’t- You should have - you should have left me! He needed to live! Why didn’t you get him out!” 

“Tones, look at me,” Rhodey instructed, “we tried man, we really did. There was too much rubble and too little time, we didn’t want to… it wasn’t easy.” 

Tony tore himself off the ground, advancing on Steve and shoving him. “You told me it was safe,” he cried, “you told me it was safe and now my kid is gone! He was all I had left!” 

“Tony…” Steve tried. 

“Fuck you, Rogers!” Tony knew it wasn’t completely fair to yell at Steve but he needed to yell at something. “You should have fucking left me to burn with Peter! He was all I had left!”

Steve said nothing in reply. Tony realized dejectedly that tears were beginning to run down his cheeks.

The mechanic threw himself at Steve, he didn’t know if he would have truly come to blows with him, even if Rhodey hadn’t intercepted him, but he needed to believe that he was angry and not so utterly heartbroken. Rhodey clung to Tony’s back, forcing Tony to do the same. 

Tony’s sobs would haunt every person present for the rest of their lives. 

Peter woke up in a lab. Not the labs he was used to, that he enjoyed being in. No, this lab seemed sinister, cold, dangerous, sociopathic. 

And he was restrained. 

So it was probably all of those things. Lights shone into his face so he couldn’t see unless he moved. As soon as he tried to lift his head someone was gripping his hair and forcing his head back down onto the slab. “Stay there,” a gruff voice said from above him. 

A shadow blocked the light momentarily, leaning over his bedside eerily. Peter tugged on his restraints, they held true. 

“Don’t pull on those too hard,” the voice continued, “you’ll break your pretty wrists.” 

“Let me go,” Peter hissed, tugging on the handcuffs in contempt. “Iron Man will come for me.” 

The man laughed and slammed his hands on either side of Peter’s head, making him jump from the bang. 

“Tony Stark isn’t coming for you.” Peter opened his mouth to argue, only to be cruelly cut off. “Tony Stark isn’t doing anything anymore.” 

An icy tendril of fear began to whip through Peter’s stomach. “What do you mean…?” 

“Let me show you, Spider-Man.” 

A screen blared in front of his eyes, some kind of security footage. It was Tony, lying face up with no suit on, unconscious in the fire. He didn’t look like he was breathing but Peter wouldn’t believe that that was true. 

“No, you’re lying,” he whispered, turning his head away from the footage.

A hand dug into his hair and forced him to watch, this time a different camera. “Oh, am I? What is this then, if not grief?” 

Rhodey fought Steve at the entrance, trying to get into the building. They were both yelling, both desperate. Rhodey’s struggles eventually stopped, his limbs going limp against the Captain and his head dropping down into a sob. (How could Peter have known it was for him, not Tony?) 

“No…” 

“Yes, little spider, your mentor is buried under that building somewhere, dead.” 

“No!” He heaved his wrists up again, not caring that this time they drew blood. “No! You’re lying! You’re lying! He’s not dead! He isn’t!” 

“Scream yourself hoarse, I don’t care, it doesn’t change the facts.” The shadow moved away and the lights were in Peter’s eyes again. He heard the man start to walk away, only to stop and turn back towards him “He was waiting for you, wasn’t he?” 

The door slammed and Peter let himself cry. 

This information better have been worth it Rogers, Tony had hissed, because it cost me Peter. 

Nothing was worth what he’d lost though, Tony knew with absolute certainty that he could never truly be happy again. 

He’d broken a few ribs when a beam had fallen on top of him, had a slight concussion, but none of it equated the pain he felt at losing his son. He’d never told him that he loved him, more than anything in the world. And now he never could. 

So he was going to blow these fuckers to kingdom come. 

They found their little secondary base, some kind of experimentation lab they had going on, whatever security they had was no match for Iron Man’s wrath. 

No mercy. 

Tony knew the other Avengers agreed. The place burned, the carnage of a grieving father. 

He finished his rampage and was about to leave the place to burn when he felt something urge him to stay for just a few more minutes. He had already exited the building, just about to fly away, when that something pulled him back.

The inventor slowly turned his head, hesitant to see. 

It felt like his breath was torn from his lungs. 

Peter ran at him, tears streaming down his cheeks, wrists still bound in front of him, with utter relief and happiness written on his face. The suit disengaged from Tony’s body as he tore towards the kid himself. 

“Peter!” 

“Mr.Stark!” 

The pair crashed into each other, Peter threw his bound arms around the man and burrowed into his neck. He was sobbing, Tony thought he might be too. 

His clutched the kid’s head towards him, clung to him with the other hand. He didn’t care about the pain in his ribs, he pulled Peter as close as he could. 

“I thought you were dead,” the inventor whispered, eyes widened in shock. “I thought I lost you…” 

“They told me you were dead,” Peter cried. “I didn’t want to believe it but then they showed me- I didn’t want to believe it but they said you were dead.” 

Say it. 

“I love you more than anything else in the world, Pete, I’m never letting you go again.” 

#prompt #iron dad fanfiction #iron dad #Peter Parker and Tony Stark #angst #whump #swearing #presumed dead #reunions #headcanon #writing

[violetsmoak]

Philtatos [9/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47690671

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #gold #warriors #gods in disguise

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

“Just going to put this out there, but if breaking into a flower shop is your idea of a first date, it might explain your lack of game,” Jason remarks. Tim glares up from the rear door where he’s disabling the building’s paltry security system. The other man sniggers, the sound echoing through the vocal modulator of his helmet. “Too soon?”

“You’re an ass,” Tim informs him, clipping a wire to ensure there will be no outgoing calls to the alarm company.

Jason is still chuckling as he picks the lock to get them in. He’d complained when Tim insisted on no unnecessary smashing of their way into some innocent owner’s shop. Thankfully, he’d also yielded with an uncharacteristic lack of fight.

Vigilantes cause enough property damage fighting the villain of the week, we’re not going to send some poor guy’s insurance premiums up because the Red Hood wants to kick in a door.

“How come you never broke into a flower shop for me?” Steph wants to know, voice crackling across the comms.

“That ship sailed when you hit me in the face with a brick,” Tim mutters as he and Jason slip through the rear entrance and begin looking around.

“Hold a grudge much?”

“Looks like the roses are back here,” Jason says, shining a flashlight into a cold storage display. “Think the color affects the spell?”

“Everything about this is cliché already, so I’m guessing it has to be red,” Tim deadpans, digging into his belt for a few bills to pay for their break-in and theft. Meanwhile, Jason reaches into the display and removes a bunch of red roses.

“Gotta say, this is easier than the usual job. Kind of lackluster.”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Feeling cheated? I could queue up the Mission Impossible soundtrack for you on my phone.”

“More like Beauty and the Beast, given the situation.” Jason considers and then snorts, “Actually, definitely like Beauty and the Beast. You know that story was actually based on our annoying feathered friend?”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. In the original version of the myth, an oracle tells this girl Psyche she’s destined to marry ‘a monster that neither god nor mortal can resist.’”

“Eros.”

“Bingo.” Jason pauses, seeming to remember where they are, and then clears his throat, holding up the flora. “So, we good? Ready to channel your inner Zatara?”

“Only if I can be Zatanna.”

They leave the shop.

“Go for it. I’ve met that cousin of hers. He’s a douche.”

Tim laughs out loud. It’s not anything he hasn’t heard before—or agreed with.

The comms crackle then, bringing him back to present.

“Are you flirting?” Steph asks, sounding amused and awed. “Oh my god, you are. This is totally you flirting with each other, isn’t it?”

“We’re not flirting,” Tim grumbles, looking away from Jason, pulling his cowl down a little lower to hide his warming cheeks. He had completely forgotten about the open commlink.

“I’m flirting,” Jason confirms without shame. “But I’m allowed. I have a note.”

“You are both embarrassments,” Damian disdains.

“I think it’s cute,” Steph coos. “I know it’s temporary and all, but we should give them a ship name.”

“A what?”

“A name for their relationship. A portmanteau. All the celebs do it. Like Kimye. And technically Tim is a celebrity, so—”

“Keep the comms clear,” Dick growls, attempting to mimic the Batman voice, but there’s a tightness to it that screams discomfort. “And no names in the field.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Aw, are we makin’ you blush, Dickhead?” Jason jeers. “I thought you out of everyone would appreciate a good flirt…”

“Not when it involves my brothers. Magically induced feelings or not, I don’t need a play-by-play…”

“Consider this repayment for all the times I walked in on you and Kori at the Tower,” Tim says easily.

Dick groans. “You really did grow up mean.”

Jason roars with laughter.

“This surprises you?” Damian interjects. “He had a hit list of potential threats with all of us on it.”

Jason whistles. “Seriously? Babybird, I’m impressed! Also, annoyed—how am I the only one that gets labeled the bad one?”

“Because you don’t understand the meaning of subtle.”

“Careful, Robin, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Can we just get out of here?” Tim mumbles, ears still burning a bit.

It’s not like he’ was trying to flirt or lead Jason on in any way. It just seems like treating this enforced dynamic lightly, trying to find some humor in things, makes everything seem a little less…terrible.

And okay, maybe he’s kind of enjoying the fact their recent interactions are lacking their usual bite. When he was a kid, he dreamed about befriending Robin; after Jason died and even after he resurrected, that became something impossible.

But this, even in the backdrop of a horrible situation, it’s like getting a taste of that.

Which is dangerous, since it’s not going to last.

No matter how tightly Jason holds Tim’s hand as they speed toward Robinson Park, or continues to watch him as they park Redbird under camouflage nearby. He can’t know for sure, but he suspects that under the helmet, Jason may be smiling at him.

Like he’s his favorite person in the world.

But that’s why Eros said he was the one who had to do that, right?

It still sucks.

“Everyone in position?” Dick’s voice crackles over the comm line. “Batman – north quadrant.”

“Robin – south quadrant. This is still a bad idea.”

“Most of our ideas are bad ones. Batgirl – east quadrant.”

“Red and Red at the drop point,” Tim says, scanning the open glade they’ve chosen. “We’ve got the west quadrant once we set the trap.”  

He crouches down on the ground and sets to work.

“You really think an electric cage is gonna be enough?” Jason asks as he loiters beside Tim, twirling the rose between thumb and forefinger. “Considering her talents avoiding capture, Carrie Cutter probably knows how to get out of a trap.”

“Which is why we distract her and knock her out as soon as we confirm she has the diviners,” Tim reminds him as he finishes placing the electromagnetic field generators in the ground. Rather than dig up the earth, he hides them beneath debris and branches.

“Which is why you distract her, and I knock her out,” Dick reminds over the comms. “You two are to get clear of the area as soon as the spell is done.”

“Father would not approve of us relying on spells.”

“Luckily B’s not here,” Jason replies, using a knife to sharpen the rose’s stem to a point. “Now what?”

“Eros said we have to join hands, and then you have to say this—” Tim digs into his belt and passes the ripped magazine cover, “—apparently it invokes the words of Eros. I can’t read it, but he said you could.”

Jason takes the page.

“How the hell would I know how to—oh.”

“I guess the same way you were speaking ancient Macedonian?”

“Looks like.”

“Anytime now, imbeciles,” Damian snaps in their ear. “The sooner this foolish plan fails, the sooner I can say ‘I told you so’ and return home.”

“Sounds like the toddler’s gettin’ cranky,” Jason snorts. “Must be past his bedtime.”

“At least he’s being optimistic,” Steph points out. “Assuming we’re getting back home and all.”

“Once again you’ve displayed your tendencies towards selective hearing, Fatgirl, I said I intend to return home, not that I expected you to do the same.”

“Charming,” Tim drawls.

“Damian’s right,” Dick interrupts. “Let’s get this over with.”

There’s a moment of fumbling where Tim grabs the rose so that Jason can use one hand to hold the incantation and take hold of Tim’s with his other.

Tim stares down at their joined hands, Jason’s on top of his; he notes the collection of scars on the backs of his knuckles. Knuckles his face has been intimately acquainted with in the past—

“Here goes,” Jason mutters, brandishing the invocation. When he next speaks, it’s in a language Tim has never heard before, as incomprehensible as what he was saying the other day when he nodded off during the movie.

And yet it still sends shivers down Tim’s spine.

The rose glows with golden light and then flies out of his hand to hover in the air above them.

“What’s next?”

“He said something about palms together, so—”

They readjust their hands.

“No, wait, yours should be on top,” Jason suggests. “Minimize the chance of you getting in on this oh-so-fun obsession thing.”  

“Yeah, hard pass…”

As soon as their hands are horizontal over the ground, the rose gives a pulse of energy and then shoots downward, piercing fully through both their hands.

“Motherfucker!” Jason shouts.

Like Tim, it’s probably only years of training that keeps them from jerking their hands away from each other with the rose still piercing them.

“What happened?” Dick demands.

“We’re embracing a new career as human pincushions,” Jason snarls.

“He didn’t tell me what was going to happen,” Tim says through gritted teeth; the pain is nothing compared to what any of them have been through, but it still makes his stomach twist like he wants to throw up.   

Blood wells around the stem of the rose, sliding around their hands and dripping onto the ground. They stay completely still, waiting for the flow to drip to an end and then stop completely.

In that instant, the rose vanishes like nitrocellulose paper, freeing their hands. Jason shakes his hand, still cursing as he studies the wound, while Tim kneels in the dirt to etch the symbol of Eros into the ground.

There’s a golden shimmer against the grass, and then—

Nothing. 

Tim won’t lie, he sort of expected more smoke and explosions or some indication that something magical was about to happen.

From the way Jason’s head tilts to one side, he expected the same. “Now what?”

“Now we wait, I guess. She’s human, it’s not like she’s going to teleport here I guess.”

“She has been taking the slow route so far…”

“Take advantage of it,” Dick orders. “Get to cover.”

“And no making out,” Steph says cheerfully. “No one wants to hear sucking noises.”

“Seriously, Batgirl?”

“Why would you say that?” Damian sounds scandalized.

“Muting our comms then. Wouldn’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities,” Jason says, tapping the side of his helmet. There is a chorus of complaints and disgusted groans in the background. A beat later, his shoulders tense like he’s wincing and he glances at Tim, head ducked down. “Sorry. That made it sound like—”

“No, they’re being jerks,” Tim says as he mutes his own comms. “Let them stew.”

Jason’s mischievous, conspiratorial laugh is entirely worth the flack Tim knows he’s going to get from Dick later.

They retreat to their designated spot, crouching down to await the supposed arrival of their query.

“I was sort of expecting us to be struck by lightning or something,” Jason admits after several minutes, drumming his fingers against his thigh in a quick and nervous rhythm. His other hand keeps reaching for the catch of his helmet, then jerking back downward, like he’s fighting the impulse to pull it off. Whether to tear at his hair or scrape at the skin of his neck, Tim isn’t sure, but either compulsion worries him.

He’s been good so far tonight, ever since they all got their marching orders, but now that he’s sitting still, he’s clearly without a distraction.

Tim stretches across the small distance between them and takes his hand in his.

“Struck by lightning, huh?” Tim says, swallowing against the awkwardness. He can feel Jason’s eyes on him from beneath the helmet. “Looking to defect to the Allen family?”

“Well, red is my color,” Jason jokes tensely, then shrugs. “Actually, I was thinking in terms of the gods. It happened a lot in all the myths, where if you pissed someone off Zeus would fry you with a bolt of lightning. Or, you know, Hera would trick some poor girl to ask to see Zeus’s in all his immortal glory and then she’d get fried.” He snorts. “Almost all the myths basically boil down to trouble started because Zeus couldn’t keep it in his pants.” 

“Clearly,” Tim mutters. “Guess Flash and Kid Flash were lucky they got powers instead of dead. Somehow the Big-Pile-Of-Dust doesn’t have the same charm as Scarlet Speedster.”

Things go quiet again.

Out in the open, there’s still no sign of Carrie Cutter. Tim wonders if maybe this whole thing really is just Eros having fun at their expense.

Oh well. Even if it all turns out to be a bust, this is keeping Jason’s mind occupied. Better than anything we could do for him locked up in the manor…

“I’m glad it was you I was working with at the time, and not Grayson or the bat brat,” Jason says suddenly.

“Why’s that?” Tim asks absently.

“Because you’re not family.”

Tim tries not to react. He’s had punches to the gut that hurt less than that.

It’s pretty much what I figured, but still…

“At least not the way they are,” Jason continues, oblivious to Tim’s reaction. “Nightwing wasn’t around much when I was a kid, but it was like having an older brother in college or something, right? Anytime I picked up the phone to bitch about the old man, he’d take the call.”

Tim swallows, needing a beat to ensure his voice doesn’t sound heavy, and ventures, “Did you…do that often?”

He’s not sure how to take the older man’s sudden candidness.

“More than you’d think. Not the first year—he still wasn’t that real to me before then, just a name I kept getting compared to. Also, he was always fighting with B, or treating me like his replacement.”

“Imagine that,” Tim says wryly.

“What, you thought you were the only one to get the cold shoulder?”

“His cold shoulder didn’t involve causing permanent scarring.”

Jason winces. “Fair.”

“Forget it. I told you before, water under the bridge,” Tim dismisses. “How’d you end up making good with N, back then?”

“I ran away. Tried to make it on my own because B was being…you know. Shit went down and I came back to the manor, and then Dickiebird showed up and told me about how he ran away shortly after B took him in.”

Tim blinks. “I never knew that.”

“Must’ve been before you took up your stalking hobby,” Jason says, and Tim can hear the grin in his words. “After that, he was more real to me. And he tried to actually be there. Except when he was off-planet.” He pauses for a moment, thoughtful, and Tim remembers that that’s where Nightwing was when Jason was making plans to go to Ethiopia. “And then with the brat—we come from the same place. Mothers sold us out, don’t play well with others, never really had a childhood…trying to toe B’s stupid line when we know it’s never gonna work…”

“You don’t know that.”

“Agree to disagree, Timbers. The point is, with those two, I get it. They’re family, even if I don’t want them to be. But you—”

Tim’s shoulders slump. “Not damaged enough?”

“Bullshit, you’re plenty damaged. You chose this shit, and there’s a special kind of insanity in that.” That should be an insult, but Jason’s tone is admiring. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m relieved. That I’m fixating on you and not—look, I couldn’t take the incest guilt on top of losing my mind. It’s one less thing to hate myself about.”

There’s a lot to unpack there, Tim thinks, especially that bit about Jason hating himself. He opens his mouth to say something about it, but then Dick’s voice growls, “We’ve got company. Everyone stay sharp.”

Looks like we’ll have to table things until later…

A motorcycle speeds into the park, the growl of the motor shattering the otherwise quiet night. The woman upon it, clad in green combat gear and without a mask or even a helmet over her bright red hair, practically leaps off the bike without stopping, letting it skid to one side.

Her eyes are wild, and her arms snap out in front of her in an oddly zombiesque. Tim understands the reason for the latter when he takes note of the wrist-mounted crossbows on both hands.

Ten to one those are Eros’ diviners.

Cutter marches straight up the sigil, which shimmers and vanishes, and she stops, looking around.

Tim’s finger hovers over his wrist computer, waiting with bated breath as she edges closer and closer to the trap.

“Come on,” Jason murmurs under his breath, attention fixed on that as well.

“Where is he?” Cutter growls and Tim is surprised at how rough her voice is compared to the way she’s sounded in various interrogation videos he’d used for research. “This is his blood, so where is the brat?”

She finally takes the final step and Tim engages the cage.

Fingers of electrical energy spring to life around her, creating a contained dome around Cutter. She snarls, trying to jump backward, but the forcefield keeps her immobile. She can’t even move her arms.

Across the clearing, Dick materializes from the shadows in silence.

 “Be careful, Batman,” Tim cautions in a low voice. “The electric field was supposed to knock her out.”

“If you really thought it would be that easy, you haven’t been doing this long enough,” Jason murmurs.

Tim ignores that. “The field will keep her from shooting you while she’s in there, but the minute I deactivate it, she’ll try something. Get her disarmed first.”

“It’s like you think this is my first time,” Dick mumbles before he growls out his imitation of Bruce, “Carrie Cutter. You made a mistake coming to Gotham.”

The woman’s slightly manic expression freezes on her face and then smooths into something predatory. “Oh, I see. So, you’re the Batman. I have to say, I’m underwhelmed.”

Dick remains silent, and Jason snorts, leaning in a little too close to Tim to murmur, “Wonder how hard it is for him right now not to make a joke.”

Tim grins.

“Your murder spree ends tonight,” Batman says. “If you cooperate, it will go better for you.”

“Isn’t that what every guy says?” Cutter purrs. “What if I like it a bit rough?”

“It’s up to you. You’re getting arrested either way, but if you work with me, I can ensure a lighter sentence.”

Tim can practically hear Jason grinding his teeth at that. He nudges him.

 Now’s not the time for a rant about Red Hood’s brand of justice…

“That’s awful accommodating for the Big Bat. I must have something you want,” the woman muses, shifting as she continues to test the bounds of the forcefield. She glances down at the ground and then snorts. “You’re working with Eros. The little brat wants his toys back, doesn’t he?”

Damn. So much for surprise.

“And if you give them up without bloodshed, we can figure out a deal.”

Her expression becomes pinched. “What makes you think I care about deals?”

“Because without making one, you wouldn’t have been able to steal those in the first place.” He gets closer until he’s looming over her. “Tell me who helped you steal the diviners. If I know who it is, I can protect you from them better.”

“Protect me,” she repeats. “What makes you think I need protection?”

“I already have intel that says the only ones who know about the diviners and how to wield them would have to be Olympians or beings of similar nature. They don’t tend to be the most altruistic—or forgiving.”

“Well, you have a point there,” Carrie agrees with a smirk, and Tim suddenly has a really bad feeling about this. “But then, I knew what I was getting into when I struck my little bargain.”

“We can help you,” Batman insists. “You don’t have to be alone in this, Carrie.”

“Now see,” she purrs, “your mistake is thinking I came here without their help.” Her eyes burn a bright, unnatural red, and her entire body begins to glow. “Or that we mind a bit of bloodshed.”

⁂

“Well, that, wasn’t in her files,” Tim remarks lightly, in a mild voice that tries not to betray the ‘oh shit we’re screwed’ sentiment of the moment.

“I’m not usually one for negotiations, but I think that means they failed,” Jason remarks.

“Your grasp of the obvious is impeccable!” Damian sneers across the comms.

Jason can’t help blink as Cutter seems to draw into herself, her back rounding and arms tucked in before she emits a wordless growl. She shoves her hand right up and through the electric cage holding her—and wraps it around Batman’s throat faster than he can avoid it.

I know she’s enhanced and all, but something tells me she’s not usually that fast!

Sparks sizzle and fly as the cage around her shorts out, and she lifts Batman over her head.

Or strong.

Freed from the cage, Cutter pulls back her left arm, priming the miniature crossbow on it. Jason doesn’t hesitate—he’s got his guns out and takes two shots in rapid succession, hitting both her wrists directly where the devices are attached.

Cutter curses as they fall to the ground, dropping Batman, who immediately tries to reach for the discarded diviners. A steel-toed boot to the chest and more force than should be possible stops him, leaving him momentarily winded on the ground.

“Converge!” Tim orders. “Don’t let her pick up those weapons again!”

“No, I thought we’d let her have them, she seems so reasonable!” Steph snarks, but is already dashing from her hiding spot.

“Hood—get the diviners while she’s distracted!”

“Easier said than done, Red!”

Steph reaches Cutter first, lunging forward with a right hook that is neatly evaded. Cutter grabs her by the shoulders and shoves her downward, kneeing her in the face. As Steph stumbles back, trying to shake off the blow, Cutter backhands her.

Dick is back on his feet, kicking out with a roundhouse that Cutter ducks before grabbing hold of him again. Undeterred, he headbutts her and this time it’s Cutter that staggers back, reeling enough for a front-kick that nearly downs her.

“Stay down, Carrie,” he growls.

“It’s cute you think that’s going to happen,” she laughs. The timber of the sound doesn’t seem quite right for some reason. 

As she rallies, she aims a kick to Tim’s face when he tries to get close enough to grab the diviners, forcing him to bend backward. Jason snarls, whipping a knife at her face in retaliation, which she catches and lobs back at him, forcing him to bend backward to avoid it.

As reaches for a gun, Steph recovers, trying for a downward chop to Cutter’s blind spot. However, the redhead rallies, manages to get an arm around her neck and hold Steph up, choking her in the crook of her elbow.

“Go on and take the shot, warrior,” Cutter taunts.

Goddamnit—she knows I can’t.

Normally he would, but his hands aren’t exactly steady today. Beyond that, he gets the sense that training or not, Cutter is a lot faster right now than she should be.

Damian materializes behind her and tries to clothesline her, but this fails as she whips around and punches him in the solar plexus, making him lurch backward.

“I never liked children...”

Dick’s attempted right hook fails, too. Cutter twists around and knees him in the jaw, all while Steph continues to struggle against the chokehold. Her arms slap uselessly against her adversary, who still has the strength to punch the still rallying Batman so hard he flies backward several yards, forcing Tim to duck out of the way or be bowled over.

Damn it. She’s taking them out too fast, there’s no opening to get the diviners.

Cutter throws Batgirl over her shoulder and into the ground, hard. Steph doesn’t move, and Cutter makes another attempt to pick up the diviners.

His line of sight clear now, Jason fires several rounds, targeting her joints, but somehow, she avoids them all.

“That…should not be possible.”

Jason knows his marksmanship capabilities, and unless she’s got precognition, she shouldn’t be able to avoid being hit.

Definitely faster than human. Either that, or she’s got tougher skin than expected and just isn’t bleeding.

As he pauses to reload, Red Robin creeps up behind her, once more trying to get his hands on one of the abandoned crossbows. Cutter spots him, grabs him by the folds of his cape and sends him flying straight at Jason, who’s forced to stop shooting and catch him.

“You okay?”

“Fine—let me up.”

Jason hesitates a minute.

Even with the body armor, he’s way too small…

“Hood!”

“Right—yeah,” Jason shakes his head, forcing himself to remember the fact they’re in the middle of a fight.

Several yards away, Damian darts back again, this time with a sword that Jason’s sure he’s not supposed to have with him. He swings in an underhand arc at her unguarded back, but she whirls around, diverts the blow by catching and pushing away the hilt. Robin is already twisting his body around, trying to aim a downward swipe to her abdomen—and she bends back to avoid it with ease. He makes a third attempt, slices the blade overhead again, and she dodges it by inches, the steel passing harmlessly over her. He doesn’t get a fourth shot, as this time she grabs hold of his hands where they grip the sword and throws him away from her, sword and all. The blade slips from his hands as he skids to the ground, rolling several times in the dirt.

Tim’s sprinting forward again, bo staff at the ready, but Cutter is ready to catch him, neatly avoiding his attempt to shatter her collarbone with the staff. Still, he turns, using the momentum to follow through, shoving the staff backward to hit her abdomen. Before it can connect, her hands fasten around the staff, and she tries to pull him forward. Red Robin evades her hold the first time, freeing his staff and comes back around with an overhand swing from the right, but Cutter dodges, shoving a palm at his sternum and sending him flying into Batman.

With Tim clear once again, Jason lets loose another volley of gunfire, stalking forward. His accuracy improves the closer he gets—he can see her clothing shred in places as the bullets glance by. She seems to notice this too, because then she’s bending forward and kicking out, foot under Batgirl and sending her directly into Jason’s path, forcing him to drop his weapons and catch the other vigilante.

“Oof! Did you gain weight?”

“Rude. You didn’t say that to Red Robin.”

“He doesn’t have your ass.”

“He wishes he had my ass,” she replies, pushing off Jason and crawling off to the side.

“You’re both asses,” Tim grunts across the comms.

“Once again you state the obvious,” Damian puffs. He’s recovered by now, sword back in hand, and is unsuccessfully trying to swipe Cutter’s knees from underneath her. Somehow Cutter manages to slip beneath his guard and kick him in the chest, forcing him into the same heap where Steph and Jason are struggling to their feet.

Tim gets up again, dashes forward to jab with his bo that Cutter continues to avoid. He rolls it over his wrist, changes his grip like he’s holding a baseball bat and tries to sweep her legs out from under her. She avoids that and neatly moves to one side as the energizer bunny that is Damian returns to the fray.

Instantly, the two birds take up positions on either side of her, Robin slicing downward, forcing her to jump again, while Red Robin attempts to knock her out from above.

Somehow, Cutter’s body appears to scissor, and she executes a complicates midair flip that twists her almost horizontally between the two swinging blades.

Holy shit, it’s like Raiders of the Lost Ark…

As she lands, the guys move in sync to hit her with their weapons, but she fastens her hands around theirs and with seemingly no effort, spins and throws them off in a whirl of counterclockwise motion. They land close to Steph and Jason, and Cutter is left holding the bo and sword, which she curls her lip at in disgust, and launches them into the air with unnatural force.

Her eyes flit over them, narrowed in suspicion, before she suddenly whirls around to find Batman—and a well-placed right hook—waiting for her.

She falls hard to the ground, barely able to brace herself on the heels of her hands.

“It’s over, Carrie,” he says coolly.

She blinks guilelessly up at him and then smiles coldly. “'Flowers of this purple dye’.”

Dick’s mouth turns downward in confusion, but Jason feels like something’s just jolted his brain.

“'Hit with Cupid’s archery’,” he murmurs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steph asks.

“Batman, watch out—!”

Cutter swings her left leg out, hobbling Batman at the knees; as he moves in the air to regain his balance, Cutter gets hold of the nearest crossbow and stabs one of the tiny arrows into Batman’s thigh, somehow with enough strength to burrow past all the body armor.

“No!” Red Robin shouts as Dick groans in pain.

“Sink in apple of his eye,” Cutter singsongs, "when his hate he doth espy!”  Then she laughs and in a harsh language that resembles the one Jason used to summon her, “Hate them, Batman. Throw caution to the wind and kill them all.”

The arrow vanishes into stardust and Dick’s entire frame goes tense. Then, he slowly turns his head towards them. His mouth curls into a horrible smile, and beneath the lenses of his mask, Jason sees an unnatural red gleam.

“I’m guessing that was one of the lead tipped ones,” Tim murmurs.

“Yeah…that’s a complication,” Jason replies, stomach sinking.

Which is an understatement.

Dick Grayson is a force of nature on a good day—well on par with Bruce in terms of skill, maybe even better in other aspects. And Jason’s tangled with him a few times, both when he’s been in his right mind and with the human decency brainwashed out of him.

Neither one’s good.

Add the danger Dick poses to a murderous psychopath with the untold backing of an unknown god, and Jason will be really surprised if they make it out of this one alive.

“Hood,” Red Robin begins, both question and warning.

“I’ve got him,” Jason murmurs. “You guys deal with her.”

Cutter is priming the wrist-crossbow again, only for one of Robin’s incoming Batarang to knock it free.

“Oh, you’ve got me, do you, Little Wing?” Dick taunts, stepping forward. “Always with the overconfidence. That’ll get you killed. Again.”

“Right—because I haven’t heard that one a million times before.”

Dick winds up an overhand punch toward Jason’s head, which he ducks, and continues with a flurry of blows that Jason’s only just able to stumble back from.

“I always forget you’re fast like a freak,” he mutters, regaining his stance and throwing himself back at Dick. When the older man continues to avoid the assault, Jason tries to take him out at the knees instead.

Several yards away, the other Bats have surrounded Cutter and are trying to coordinate taking her down.

“Who are you?” Steph demands. “There’s no way you’re just Carrie Cutter in there.”

“Smart girl,” she purrs. “I hate smart girls.”

She tries to jam a knife hidden in her gauntlet in her face, but Steph ducks; Tim and Damian dive forward to pick up the slack.

“I’m surprised you’re not asking me if it’s really me in here,” Dick sneers at Jason, drawing his attention once again. “Or trying to convince me this ‘isn’t me’.” He kicks his heel to Jason’s chest, knocking him back. “Appeal to my better self?”

“You forgettin’, Dickhead?” Jason pants. “I’m the only one that knows you don’t have a better self. Just a pretty-boy smile and a horseshoe up your ass.” He jumps to his feet. “Been telling everyone for years that you’re just a tool. This is just confirmation.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Dick grunts, going for an overhead roundhouse, and when that doesn’t work, aiming low. As Jason staggers back, Dick slices at him with a Batarang, penetrating the thick material of his gear and sending a spray of blood into the air.

In the background, the fight with Cutter doesn’t appear to be going any better.

“Was Carrie Cutter aware you were going to take over her body?” Tim demands of Cutter. “Or did you trick her?”

“As if there was anything to trick—we have an arrangement. And luckily, we both like raising a little hell!” She sends both Tim and Steph flying backward and then gets a hold of Damian as he swoops in from behind. “Wanna see how much?”

And she’s got one of the diviners in her hands again, ready to bring down an arrow on the kid’s head.

Ensorcelled demon-brat is not something we need right now!

Jason barely thinks, throws himself forward and rolls beneath Dick’s grasping gauntlet, skidding across the grass and dirt to knock Damian out of the way. Cutter’s weapon is still on a downward trajectory, and there’s no time to grab anything to block it.

But he doesn’t need to.

Without true thought or intent, the pulsing energy of the All-Blades simmers into being, manifesting in his hands and topping Cutter’s arrowhead inches before it hits him. There’s a small wave of impact that separates them, but judging from Cutter’s expression, that’s not what puts her off guard.

She stares at the blades a beat, before the red flashes in her eyes again.

“All-Caste,” she snarls.

Jason smirks. “Yeah, I’m not just a pretty face.”

“You’re about to have no face!”

They disengage, but not before Cutter manages to grab hold on her crossbows. Before their eyes, they vanish, transforming into twin double-edged blades, one gold and one black.

“Something you want to share with the class, Hood?” Damian asks, spinning his own sword in his wrist.

“Not now. Go help the others deal with Batman,” Jason orders.

“You’re outmatched—”

“We’re all outmatched if you don’t stop your mentor over there, now go!”

He and Cutter cross blades, sparks and energy flying before they disengage to circle one another.

“Tt.” But the kid darts off to where Steph and Tim are already flanking Dick defensively. “Apologies in advance, Richard. I’ll make it quicker than the last time.”

“Keep overestimating your abilities, brat,” Dick sneers in a voice he never uses on Damian. “You don’t even know how much I hold back with you.”

“I could say the same thing to you,” Cutter tells Jason as they circle one another. “You really think this is a wise decision, boy?”

“I really think you look nervous,” Jason counters.

Cutter hisses, but there’s something uncertain in her eye.

“Not hard, I guess,” he continues, flipping out of the way of an attempted jab. “You’re as nuts as Arsenal said. You know Arsenal, right? Green Arrow’s protégé? He said GA said you were a delusional hot mess.”

The red in Cutter’s eyes flicker to green and back.

“Knew you were in there,” Jason goes on. “So, Carrie—was it you that sliced that kid’s throat, or your mystery passenger? Because you’re a lot of things—crazy being one of ‘em—but you’ve never killed kids.”

She falters for just a minute, and red glow vanishes.

At the same time, the blades in Jason’s flicker in and out of existence.

Crazy doesn’t mean evil—and when she’s not being possessed, clearly the All-Blades don’t consider Carrie Cutter to have gone completely dark side.

Cutter’s eyes dart to the blades, then back to Jason’s face, and she snaps her head forward, butting him hard enough he’s forced to let go of her.

In his periphery, Damian makes an angry noise and throws himself forward, earnings a broken nose for his trouble. Dick launches himself at Tim, who feints to one side and crouches down on his knees, turning and throwing two metallic disks at the older man. Electric beams crackle to life, only to die as Dick flings two Batarangs into them, destroying them in a fizzle of electricity and smoke.

“Look at this—the unwanted family screw-ups, getting along,” Dick mocks.

“Don’t pay attention to him, Robin,” Steph orders. “He knows what pushes your buttons.”

“Trying to be the Team Mom, Batgirl?” Dick taunts. “If you wanted that job, you shouldn’t have given up your own brat.”

“Batgirl—!” Tim warns, but Steph is already moving.

She vaults over Tim, who hasn’t gotten to his feet yet and somersaults in midair, heel coming down on Dick and knocking him into the ground. It downs him for a moment, but when she follows up with a left hook, Dick catches it and twists.

Everyone hears the snap of bone and Steph’s pained cry before Dick tosses her to one side. Tim hurries to check her.

“Uh-oh,” Cutter whispers, manic gleam in her eye once more replaced with glowing red. “Looks like things aren’t going too well over there.”

“Better than how things are going for you,” Jason replies, calling up his blades again.

Damian is taking a run at Dick, sliding between the older man’s wide stance and slicing the sharp edges of his gauntlets at Dick’s ankles, injuring the places not covered by armor. Dick goes down on his knees, and Damian is up, knocking him hard across the back of the head. But Dick jerks his head to one side, dodging the blow, and then reaches with his right arm to drag Damian over his shoulder and shoving him down on his back on the ground.

Winded, Damian struggles to breathe, and Dick draws back his hand like he’s about to crush the kid’s skull against the dirt. But then throws himself at him, knocking Dick away and the two of them roll to the ground.

There’s a brief tussle, and then Dick is on top of Tim, pinning his arms to his sides with his thighs. As Damian sails forward with a kick to the head, his arm snaps out, catching him and flipping the boy upside down. Then, laughing, he leans forward, forearm on Tim’s throat like he’s trying to crush it.

Jason’s concentration shatters. “No!”

Tim’s in trouble!

He’s already turning to go help, All-Blades vanishing, when he chokes, staring at the golden sword that suddenly protrudes from his abdomen.

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

________________________________________________________________

I want to know what you think of my story! Leave kudos, a comment or if writing comments isn't something you're comfortable with, as many of these (or other emojis) as you want and let me know how you feel!

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#jaytimweek2019 #jaytimweek #jaytim #jaytimbingo2019 #fanfic #jaytim fic #batfic #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #dick grayson #stephanie brown #alfred pennyworth #cupid #carrie cutter #angst #action #adventure #drama #gold #warriors #gods in disguise

[anemicshoe]

Finishing up them comms!

Iv just got to finish the color on this last commission then i'll be done with my queue! :DD I think I made pretty good time in one month considering they were all colored pieces (RNG you cruel mistress!) That being said, hourly I am still not making minimum wage from my arts & I think with the turnaround time & detail that I offer, I -should- be closer to it. So after this next special sale I will be adjusting my prices a little. Apologies if that puts you out of my price range but it'll not be a huge hike or anything. IN THE MEANTIME I will be doing a PWYW sketch portrait sale since im burned out on coloring :) this is the cheapest way to snag some arts from me for as little as $5! I'll open it as soon as this last piece is done & do as many as I can until I can no longer! (first come first served).

#announcement #commissions soon

[totallyintentional]

Chapter 2

begin sleep sequence

activating sleep paralysis

autonomous control lock successful

begin diagnostics

immune system 100% efficiency

foreign microorganism level: negligible

injury level: minimal

performing repairs

diagnostics complete

begin sleep cycle

“-were too ambitious without a better energy source. A human heart can’t supply that much power.”

“People are already up-in-arms, do you know what would happen if we did this and it got out that they had no hearts?”

“It’s basically just a blood pump, why-”

“Yeah, to you and me, we’re no poets.”

“But-”

“Alright, I know it would be easier, but let’s take three days to look into integration, okay? We can spare three days.”

“… Three days, then we try replacement.”

REM efficiency 0.82

end sleep cycle

terminating sleep paralysis

end sleep sequence

STATUS: SUCCESS

clearing log

I am on my feet approximately 0.73 seconds after waking.

“Morning, Beta!” I hear Matthias chirping from the common room. “Breakfast is on the table!”

I come out of my room and am greeted by a fresh fuel cell and nutritional injection. And a bagel.

“Is this a joke?” I ask, gesturing towards the bagel.

“It’s part of the standard hunter breakfast package. Not everyone is missing their digestive system, and they like to feel full.”

“And they went with plain bagels?” I grab the nutritional injection and peel back the synthetic skin on my abdomen. I eject the old vial, pop the new one into place, and reseal my stomach. I wouldn’t normally do that in front of someone else, but I don’t feel much need for modesty since Matthias just confirmed that he knows about even my less conventional modifications.

“Filling and cost-efficient.”

“Why worry about cost-efficiency in food considering-”

“How much they spend on literally everything else? You should see how much food someone using a calorie charger needs. It’s a lot of bagels.”

“Bullshit.”

“Probably.”

“So you know all of my mods?”

“Yep, all that you have, and don’t have,” he laughs, “For instance, I know you still have your-”

“That’s enough,” I cut in, “Christ, keep in mind that from my perspective I don’t know you.”

He shrugs, chuckling.

I press the fuel cell to my chest and feel it heat up as it starts the inductive charge. Warm air sighs out of my vents, keeping my batteries cool. I can feel my heart beating against the pressure. Good to know I’m not dead yet.

I change the subject.

“How long was I out for?”

“Last night or cryo? Because one of those questions is classified.”

Well, never mind then. My silence answers his question.

“Sorry, I have to withhold information that’s been proven to distress hunters.”

“What can you tell me then?”

“That your appointment’s coming up soon? Wow, did you know that your circuits turn red when you’re irritated?”

My circuits get a little more red.

“Sorry, not funny, I get it. Ask me questions, and I’ll answer, albeit possibly with just ‘classified.’”

“Why am I awake?”

“Stuff you need to hunt.”

“How long have we been working together?”

“That’s open to philosophical debate. Technically one day, since neither of us remembers working with each other before.”

“You don’t remember… How can you be an intelligence guy?”

“I was woken up with you. We’re a unit. The difference between us is that I had to review our old scenarios to make sure I was still able to advise you well. You’ll be happy to know I’m hitting 82% accuracy on our old scenarios. 91% in general.”

“So I will die in 1 of 10 cases.”

“No, just not necessarily the optimal solution. Don’t worry, your chance of death - at my advice - is near zero. Besides, my records show I had a way lower score before, and you’re still here. You should be happy.”

As if on cue, a click from the fuel cell indicates full charge. I leave it on the table and stand to go back to my room.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the ‘at my advice.’���

He grins. “Notice also that I said death and not maiming.”

I go back to my room and start prepping my exoskeleton. Nothing quite like some morbid humor to get me doing all of my safety checks.

I catch my reflection in a mirror as I finish up my checks. It is the strangest feeling of deja vu, recognizing myself with no memory of having seen myself before. I take a moment to appreciate my body, or what could be referred to as ‘what’s left of it.’

My right arm is the only limb remaining that I was born with. The other three are heavily mechanized prosthetics, almost animalistic in appearance, designed for strength and destructive power. The artificial portions of my body are covered in matte black synthetic skin, no resources wasted on aesthetics. My core is partially artificial - most of my superfluous organs have been removed to make room for more machinery. Vital systems were replaced by smaller, more efficient artificial equivalents, leaving space for a cooling system, batteries, even a small pod of emergency supplies. Most of the musculature is still reinforced organic - from the outside, it looks like a stripe of black synthetic going down my left side from the shoulder to meet that of my legs. My back looks almost human, although bulkier from a lot of spinal reinforcement, and the cooling vents like gills on my ribs.

All of my remaining organic skin is far from normal, striped with cooling and circuitry. The only part of me that looks mildly unaltered is my face, save my eyes.

My eyes are the one piece of machinery that they bothered to try keeping aesthetically human. A metallic sheen to the irises and some faint silver markings hiding additional sensors are the only differences.

I slip on my exoskeleton, feeling it conform to all of the remaining organic portions of my body. With my helmet on I look like a mechanized humanoid monster, part animal, part machine. To use an Old World slang term, it’s pretty ‘badass.’ My visual interface comes on, and I see that Matthias has already loaded directions to the lab.

“You coming?” I ask.

His voice responds through the comms. “No, I wouldn’t be able to keep up. You know where to find me though.” He taps the mic to emphasize his point.

The Hunter’s Bunker is a ghost town. Calcified fragments of machinery, trophies of old battles, are displayed in glass cases lining the walls of the hallway. My footsteps echo on the stone floor - hardwood couldn’t handle the weight of hunter augs. I pick up speed, the doors opening far ahead of me.

I’m hitting 40mph by the time I hit the door.

I’m hitting 60mph as I turn towards the lab.

I can hear the wind whistling past as I come into my stride. Hard to believe that 24 hours ago I had been frozen solid and comatose.

#scifi #fiction #ai #feedbackpls

[astroellipse]

Finally continuing with the msq, need to note some things

ended up putting many screenshots in here by the end

I... have not been quite so sure on what the Final Days actually were for a while now. It all seemed vague, but apparently it was explained in some detail and I just forgot.

“Though yet confined to the lands across the sea, a terrible phenomenon afflicts our star. They are calling it the “Final Days.”

"Once that happens, all is lost. Fear, pain, despair...every dread impulse is siphoned from our minds and given substance: an eternal fall of fiery rain; an incessant spawning of nightmarish beasts...”

“ ...Yet oh how the star had suffered. So many species lost. The land was blighted, the waters poisoned, and even the wind had ceased to blow.“

Alright I got completely sidetracked 1. because good story 2. I was sorta racing this other guy bc I’m like that but also helped him at one part so it’s all good. I’m now sitting waiting in queue for the final boss. I hope he manages to catch up with that last dungeon and queues for this in time to be in my party that would be fun.

This whole sequence still gets me so giddy, man. That last cutscene was funny because I was in my dancer outfit which. This doesn’t show much but look at his cute lil flowers.

oh damn that’s what the actual screenshots are like, the one saved by the game. slaps the title right on it huh. Anyways this was such a serious scene, the WoL challenging Emet-Selch for the fate of the world, and for hurting their friends. And Doran’s making his stand in a loose top and short shorts. I’m doing the final boss as DRG cause cannon class and I prefer it in solo fights over DNC... it at least looks a bit cooler. The light here isn’t exactly flattering but impromptu picture:

I think I’ve mentioned before how goofy his face looks at times. This is one. Catch him in the wrong lighting and he looks so so so weird. Actually this image is still bad cause it doesn’t show his claws, or his pants very well but whatever. Oh, and you can’t see his horns very well at all... I’ll have to take better pictures later.

Huh, the weather here is called “Termination”. That’s a fun detail. I’ve been sitting in this queue for 20 minutes. Just me and this other DPS so far it’s sad. I don’t wanna leave cause THE song is playing. And I wanna see if the catboy I was racing with before shows up... assuming they can. I know you can see other players in the-

oh here we go!

oh my god. we skipped an entire mechanic that was fun. and i got 2 comms :) i uhhhh didn’t actually play well like, at all? probably should have done something else to try and remember how to play DRG lol. forgot to use my dragon eye for so long. and after the phase change i didn’t use blood of the dragon in time to get off my full combo the first time. butttttt it’s fine there were plenty of others with probably capped gear to carry me.

OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD I LOVE THIS GAAAAMEEFMEKMkfb just. god. this is so good. here are some screenshots from the last cutscene.

Anyways it’s official I’d die for Doran. Love this dude who is debatably also me but not really. There’s a positive message about self love there I think. Something freeing about taking a character you project onto and making them cute as shit and putting them in stupid also debatably sexy outfits. I have not taken a picture of my taking outfit yet. I’ll have to do that soon I am quite proud of it it’s funny.

oh fuck it brought me straight to the ocular hell yeah. picture time.

he is also wearing claws in this outfit, this time in red to go with the horns. also realized you can see his DRG outfit pretty much in full in the previous screenshots so no need for that. oh my god. I swung my camera around and all the scions are just standing there... but Urianger is the nearest and his head is snapped to Doran lmao.. just.

Very cute. Very unfitting for that one cutscene. Nice to have him mistaken for a girl. I’m glad that my level 80 relic weapon goes well with my outfit. The same cannot be said for some others. Why are SMN and DRG’s weapons so ugly? It’s unfair. AST’s is really pretty and I’m using it now.

Oh and here’s another one to show ANOTHER effect of funny lighting.

Look at his eyes. They look ghastly it’s so funny. This happens in the Adder’s Nest whenever I stand at the desk to do stuff. anyways more msq

I’m glad this is the last time I have to hear Varis speak. Oh my god I love Zenos he makes no goddamn sense. His dedication to the WoL is adorable.

I’m glad I managed to get all the role quests done before I finished the ShB msq but. Jesus fucking christ is this the same paladin lady from all those flashbacks??? The one that did that devious smirk in the healer role quest???? Has she been here this ENTIRE TIME?????????????? Hm. she wants. To speak in private. uhhhhh...... UH. THE TRUE VILLAIN OF THEIR STORY??? MEET HER ALONE ON THE ROOF??????? REPAY ME?????????????? Wait is she... confessing? To something? And wants me to kill her? She orchestrated this. From the very beginning before the WoL was really known? Huh? Oh and now we’re putting the timeline together. I played them super out of order I think but I have a rough idea. Alright I know that Cyella here is Cylva. But. She sounded repentant in the beginning, and... is smirking every time she talks about how everything went according to plan. What, is she just explaining all this before she kills me or finishes whatever she started or... I don’t even know. The... transformation... was intentional... what the fuck is the timeline here I’m lost. Like,t he world was meant to end with the flood why and how was she planning shit for after that.

Hydaelyn... made each party member a Warrior of Light in turn, only after they had made a suitably heroic sacrifice. What of our WoL, then? They received their first crystal after- actually no this line of thinking is stupid. The WoL was obviously chosen for a very specific reason. That’s why they were able to collect more than one crystal of light. Probably them being Azem, and... whatever they did during the time of the Final Days.

Oh is she *the* Shadowkeeper? Huh. She’s kinda cute tho? Why do I like elezen so much I’m fucking cursed. uh. sword? flashback? HUH? Alright she is it. But she really did like them?

OH. And Ardbert didn’t sacrifice anything either. But he’s also Azem!

From a world shrouded in dark... she’s from the VOID?????????????? WHAT.

Oh she was just inducing a flashback okay.

Oh she’s a WoL from the Thirteenth. A friend of Unukalhai?? Oh she was tricked too. Ardbert spared her, thus averting Calamity at that moment. Then he went after the Ascians and caused it anyways. Oh okay the transformation to sin eaters was not the goal, I think her words were purposefully meant to lead you astray. Oh. Ew. Vauthry did that to them. Fuck that guy.

Okay. She does want me to kill her. Honestly I think the WoL should kill her, not really as retribution but just to grant her rest. Atonement, instead. “You would have been good friends, you and Ardbert” fuck you game he sacrificed himself for me just a couple of hours ago.

Aw sick I got the cool title. “Living Memory”. And now I have to get to Reflections in Crystal to do the next one.

hghhggh. FUCK. HE BLINKED. I tried taking a screenshot of Urianger and Doran in the buggy ont he way to the empty but in the first one he’s stillt alking and the second blinking. goddammit. Anyways I will not lie to you I don’t care for the Eden raid questline. Lets me see Urianger more but that’s it. I don’t care about Gaia. Like Ryne and Gaia are cute but the WoL is at any given point a 3rd wheel to either Urianger/Thancred of Ryne/Gaia and it’s annoying. Time to skip some cutscenes babeyyyyyyy. also. there’s something wrong with me look at them.

he’s so goddamn tall... why is he nearly my platonic ideal of a character this is ridiculous.

it’s been hours since I last typed anything here it’s time to sleeeep

#mmorpg hell