epiphanyx7 replied to your post: girl i'm so Excited for tear my castle down bc of...
I don’t know what this is from but I want to read it! <3
aww thank you! yeah, this is from my version of the “Loki becomes a slave to one of the Avengers” trope, mostly begun kind of as spite-fic for the things I was seeing where that developed into a relationship with no examination of the consent issues involved.
and now I’ve ended up with almost fifty pages of a thing, so far, that’s a whole bunch of...really messy stuff and Steve trying very hard to make the best of a terrible situation, and Loki going “hey, you know how I could probably make this situation better for myself? seducing this guy, it’s not like I have any bodily autonomy anyway soooo”
I’ve had this thought, that every time I reread something on AO3, and curse the fact that I can’t leave another kudos, I’m going to rec the fic here instead. Because that’s another way to show the author that I love it, AND tell all of you lovely people about some wonderful fics you may be missing out on. Today's recommendation is a Bot Fic. There are some amazing bot fics in the Avengers Fandom, my friends, and I will probably get around to rec-ing all of them at some point, but there's not ENOUGH bot fics, so we must share and cherish the ones we have. So read this one, with oblivious Tony, totally the only one paying attention Steve, Clint coming in for the save, and Bots who like to build. Honestly, if U, Butterfingers and Dum-E aren't part of your Tony story, then you're missing out on a golden opportunity, in my view. Here's Epiphanyx7's take on it, and it's a damn good one. “Doctor who?” Steve repeats. “Yeah.” “No, I mean, what Doctor are you talking about? Is this a real doctor or a science doctor like Bruce?” “Hey, don’t diss my snugglepuss, he’s a medical doctor too. Or at least he is in some countries, although he is technically not licensed to practice in the United States. I think he can practice medicine in Canada, though,” Tony tilts his head consideringly. “Steve, is Canada a real country?” “Yes, Canada is a real country, Tony.” Steve sighs heavily.
Thank you! I can't believe I never realized that it was continued on AO3 as well (and that I also never stopped to think about who would *mother* all these adorable children, wow.) After-school science club sounds absolutely amazing :)
You’re very welcome, anon. What was posted on the Archive isn’t much more than that original snippet I posted to tumblr, but I am glad to be able to point it out to you. And this is one of my favourite universes, so, I was happy to re-visit it with you. The after-school science club I thought would be really cool, because Tony would be like a combination of Bill Nye and the Mythbusters team, teaching kids about science because of the cool things you can do with it and just being really enthusiastic about all of it? That’s one of the reasons I thought it would work, even for characters that fandom would probably not have thought would be science nerds. Bruce and Peter are science geeks obviously, but I wanted to show a very young Jan being excited about something she can do with her older siblings AND starting to think about all the different ways she wants to learn about the universe (and change things to suit her.) and Clint wanting to know physics so he can be better at archery, Thor wanting to learn things to impress a girl at first but quickly becoming fascinated by outer space, Natasha who starts out just wanting to see if she can make stuff explode and then getting sidetracked by learning about electronics and how to make new things out of standard parts.
Thanks for letting me be enthusiastic about this story, though. If you have any more questions about the story or universe you should feel free to keep asking. I promise that any and all inquiries are welcome.
Anyways, you asked before about Dum-E. Well, not in a way that actually said anything specific. So I looked through my writing folder and I found the next bit of that story (the only unposted parts I’d already written), which I’ll post here just for you since you were kind enough to ask. It’s not edited or polished, but it’s 100% material I’d completely forgotten about and was delighted to rediscover.
The Sound of Science: Chapter Six
--
“Holy shit, you’re Tony Stark,” the FedEx guy said, gaping at Tony.
Tony gestured for the electronic signature sheet. “Yeah,” he said, prying it gently from the delivery man’s fingers and signing it with a flourish. “That’s me.”
“That’s-- wow,” the man said. “That’s really cool.” He was staring at Tony instead of actually delivering stuff, though, which might eventually become a problem.
“You a fan?” Tony asks.
“Uh,” The man said. His nametag said “Doug” and he was suddenly looking a little shifty.
“Are you one of the picketers?” Tony asked, squinting at him. “Because you should know that this is a private residence where there are children residing, if any camera crews show up I’ll sue the fuck out of you and FedEx. But if you’re anti-war or one of the environmental activists, I’m totally with you.”
“You are?” Doug asked suspiciously. “Because Stark Industries made over ten billion dollars last year due to military contracts, and--”
“Actually, it was eleven,” Tony interrupted. “But I’m a hundred percent behind the need to cut back on weapons manufacturing and the promotion of clean energy and technological resources. The fact that my dad’s company depends so heavily on military contracts is a huge debate on the board of directors right now, and I’ve been trying for years to convince him we need more diversity in our contracts. Not just because of economic reasons, but because we should actually want the wars overseas to end. Being dependent on military contracts means being dependent on warfare, and that’s--”
Doug was looking less suspicious, but then Tony saw the truck in his driveway. “Hey, is that my robot?” Tony asked. “Because I am down to continue this conversation, but you gotta help me unload the robot first.”
“It’s a robot?” Doug asked, eyes lighting up. He shoved the signature tablet into a pocket that wasn’t at all large enough to hold it, but headed for the truck. “Me’n the guys were taking bets, nobody guessed it’d be a robot though.”
“You took bets?” Tony repeated. “Why would you--”
The box beeped at him.
Doug looked at the box pointedly. It was almost as big as Tony, a little over five feet tall, and three feet wide and deep. It beeped again, then wiggled. “Well,” Doug said, “Because of... that.”
“Dum-E...” Tony sighed.
The box whirred excitedly.
Tony resisted the urge to literally facepalm. “Oh-kay,” he said. “Right, how do we--”
“Oh, there’s a trolley,” Doug said, going to the side of the truck. “Let me lower the ramp first, then it’s easy.”
The box beeped again, the top of the cardboard bulging outwards a bit.
In short order the lamp was lowered, the trolley utilized, and the box deposited carefully onto the driveway. Doug the delivery man handed Tony a boxcutter, which was apparently something he carried around with him in the truck cabin.
“Thanks,” Tony said. “Appreciate it.”
The box beeped happily.
“You’re supposed to be on standby mode, you fucking disaster,” Tony told the box.
“Is it okay if I watch?” Doug asked him. “I mean, I can head out if you’d rather. I just. I never seen a robot before.”
“Yeah, hang around,” Tony said, carefully cutting through the tape on top of the box. He pulled back the flaps and looked down.
Dum-E, whose motion had been severely limited in the confines of the box, raised his arm and whirred.
“Oh my god,” Tony said. “How long have you been awake, miscreant? Pepper had you on standby for a reason.”
Dum-E ducked his arm down into the box, then returned with a teddy bear.
Tony stared at the stuffed bear. Doug stared at the stuffed bear.
Dum-E squeezed the teddy, and Tony watched in horror as the thing’s stomach began to glow and the thin, tinny sound of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star began to play. Dum-E beeped again.
“What the fuck,” Tony said.
Doug appeared to be speechless.
Dum-E squeezed the bear again, starting the song over again.
“You--” Tony said. “But-- the-- Ugh.”
Dum-E carefully presented Tony with the glowing and musical bear, and then ducked down into the box again. This time he returned with a LED flashlight.
“Did Pepper know about this?” Tony asked him. “Did she know you are incapable of listening to directions? This is unbelievable. Four days in a goddamned box, Dum-E, really?”
Dum-E gently presented Doug with the flashlight. He then ducked back down into the box and popped back up, this time holding a nightlight. It was one of the press-on ones that were popular with little kids, easy to stick onto any surface and modelled to look like the stark industries arc reactor.
“What the actual fuck, you dumbass,” Tony said.
Doug still appeared to be speechless.
Dum-E beeped, ducked down into the box again, and this time returned with a flash drive. This didn’t also appear to be a child’s toy, so Tony accepted it with as much dignity as he was able (which was not a lot). He shoved the drive into his pocket and glared at his robot.
“Awesome,” he said. Dum-E beeped at him again, extending his arm to carefully pat Tony’s hair with his claw. “Don’t even-- don’t touch me, you weirdo,” Tony muttered, ducking down to cut the sides of the box so Dum-E could escape his cardboard prison. “Seriously, you are a failure of programming and I regret ever giving you sentience.”
Dum-E responded to this with the appropriate gravity, ignoring Tony completely to race forward and then start spinning around. He did a full 360 with his arm, and then followed it up with a couple of donuts on the driveway.
“Stop that,” Tony said. “Don’t get dirt in your gears, I don’t have the facilities to clean any gunk if you get gummed up. Garage, now.”
He pointed at the open garage door, trying to maintain a stern expression. Dum-E didn’t seem to notice his expression, but happily sped towards his new home.
“God,” Tony said. “Robots. I don’t-- I fucking can’t. I have no idea. I can’t believe he was awake the whole time.”
Doug blinked at him. “Holy shit,” he said.
“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “Do I owe you anything? I don’t have a lot of cash on me, but--”
“No,” Doug said, shaking his head. “That was. Holy fuck, Mr. Stark. No. You don’t have to pay me anything. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
“You never will again,” Tony assured him.
--
Rogers had a pretty big two-car garage, large enough that there was room for the massive SUV as well as Tony’s car. Even with both vehicles parked inside, there was plenty of room for Dum-E to move around in the garage without scratching anyone’s paint job, so, great.
Tony closed the garage door and stared at his robot, who seemed confused by the lack of computers and scientific equipment. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “It’s not the most technologically advanced of places, but it’s going to have to do.”
Dum-E approached a rack of power tools, raising his arm curiously to touch a drill.
“No,” Tony said, firmly. “No-- no power tools, you haven’t even gotten your blender privileges back yet.”
Dum-E made a noise that was pretty much the robotic equivalent to blowing a raspberry.
“Ugh,” Tony said. “I don’t even know why I wanted to save your miserable metal hide, you ungrateful little shit. Come on, let’s go inside.”
The Rogers house wasn’t the biggest house, but it did have plenty of space. More importantly, it had a pretty big first level and didn’t have a step up between the garage and the actual floor, which meant that Dum-E had no problem navigating his way into the house.
“Well,” Tony said. “This is home for the time being.” He showed Dum-E the kitchen, first, ignoring the way the bot made a beeline for the blender. “No, stop it, we’re doing a tour.” Tony insisted. “Here’s the... uh, I don’t know what this room is called.”
The floor was littered with various doll-type toys, some of which were clearly wearing clothes not marketed towards their particular form. There was a soldier-type action figure doll wearing a prom dress that was both ill-fitting and ill-suited to its particular skin tone. Which reminded Tony of Natasha wanting makeup-- black, gothic makeup, if he based his assumptions on her clothing choices for the first two days of school.
Today, for example, Natasha had opted to wear her black jeans, a black tank top and sweater, and sequin-enhanced black scarf. At this point, Tony was tempted to buy her something adorned with a flaming skull or covered in satanic symbols just to inject a little colour into her wardrobe. The lack of gothic makeup was actually more startling than the all-black outfit was.
“Maybe she should get hair dye,” Tony mused, but Rogers would probably be pissed if he came home and his precious baby had dyed her hair. Parents got weird about stuff like that, or at least Tony assumed they did. Howard hadn’t ever really noticed except for the one time Tony showed up with blue hair and copious eyeliner to some media event and had then been accosted by various makeup experts.
Obie had been appalled, though, and that probably was a better gauge of parental responses than Howard’s ever had been.
Dum-E beeped agreeably.
“Right,” Tony said. “This is our new house, and we are going to have a new project! You’ll like this one. We’re babysitting.”
Dum-E obligingly crooked his claw and made an inquiring noise.
“Yes, I know, we’re way more used to explosions than children, but I have been assured that most children do not enjoy being exploded.” Tony replied. “So we’re keeping them alive until their dad gets back.”
He started picking up toys, more because he needed to do something with his hands than because he cared about the state of the room that has no function aside from being convenient to congregate in. “We need a box for these things,” Tony decided. Dumping the pile of toys beside the couch, he headed off in search of a toy box. Dum-E followed behind him, engine whirring.
--
By the time the kids are expected to be home, Tony has made zero headway into the toy-organization project, but has managed to sweat through his t-shirt, get covered in grime, and discover a treasure trove of tupperware that he can’t actually use. The tupperware is all full, full of stuff, and while some of it appears to be actual garbage-- old newspapers, magazines, and a few items of no discernable value-- there are also things that Tony knows for a fact are previous sentimental treasures that cannot be disturbed. The first tupperware had housed a huge collection of now-obsolete baby toys, as did the second, but the third contained a wedding dress. Tony had stared at it for a while, then carefully packed it up and labelled the tupperware box “Do not Disturb, Contents: Wedding Dress” and continued on his search, but despite finding a whole lot of random stuff, the best he had managed that might be used for toy storage were five tupperware containers with labels that read ????? .
Most of them had Do not Disturb labels, though. Do not disturb: wedding dress. Do not disturb: clothing. Do not disturb: photo albums. Do not disturb: ???
He was now painfully aware of the missing Mrs. Rogers, and the fact that most of her stuff seemed to be carefully packed away in tupperware in the storage rooms was... well. Tony had no idea what to do with that. He was careful not to dig into any of the boxes, and was trying to be respectful, but--
He had no idea what had happened to her. But he did know that he couldn’t do anything with this stuff unless he’d talked it over with Rogers and then with the kids, so--
“I’m going to have to get new Tupperware,” he said. “Dum-E, make a note! Tupperware. Storage bins. Maybe a closet organizer. Oh, and the kids should all have their own rooms. And Natasha needs mascara. She needs makeup in general, not just mascara. Actually, Clint and Thor could probably use a little concealer to deal with whatever hormonal acne problems they’re about to be besieged with.”
Dum-E beeped.
--
The school bus dropped Bruce, Peter, and Jan off right on time, and Tony hustled them inside so he could feed them before Clint and Thor returned to decimate their food stores. “How was school?” he asked.
“Henry put gum in Jan’s ponytail,” Bruce informed him.
Tony looked at Jan, whose Ponytail looked the same as it had that morning. “Uh,” he said.
“I punched him in the nose,” Bruce added. “I have a letter from my teacher!”
Tony stared at him. “You-- it’s the second day of school,” he said. “The second day.”
“Mr. Parker says I’m pre-co-cious,” Peter piped up. “And that spiders aren’t insects because they have eight legs and not six and insects have six legs and spiders are ar-ack-nids and they spin webs from their butt.”
“Hold on,” Tony said. “Bruce, I need that letter from your teacher, please. Jan, did you have a good day?”
Jan smiled at him. “Miss Munroe says there are eight planets in the solar system, but I tolded her there are nine, because Mommy said there are nine, but Miss Monroe says Pluto isn’t a real planet, and I tolded her that she was wrong ‘cause Mommy’s favourite planet is Pluto and it’s teeny weeny like me, and Miss Monroe said that Pluto can still be my favourite if I want but it’s a B planet not an A planet and I tolded her that if it’s a B planet it’s a planet because it’s right in the name, see?”
Tony gaped, shocked at the sheer number of words that had just come out of the little girl’s mouth. “I-- yeah,” he said. He shoved a plateful of cookies in her direction, feeling relieved when she accepted it and sat down on the floor to eat.
Bruce was digging through his backpack, eventually pulling out a crumpled envelope. He presented it to Tony with a flourish before joining Jan on the floor.
Tony eyed Peter. “Did you get into any fights?” he asked.
“Nope,” Peter smiled at him, showcasing his missing tooth.
“Did your teacher send any letters home?” Tony asked him.
“No.”
“Good. Eat some cookies.” Tony shooed him in the direction of the kitchen, where there was also milk waiting for them.
Bruce and Jan needed some convincing to get up off of the floor and relocate to a less germ-filled area, but they acquiesced quickly when Tony just grabbed the plate and walked away from them.
In the kitchen, Peter was gaping at Dum-E, who was wearing an apron to protect his chassis from spills and in the midst of making tony a mid afternoon smoothie.
“Okay, introduction time,” Tony said as he put the plate of cookies on the table. “Dum-E, these are the bratlings: Jan, Peter, and Bruce.” He pointed at each of the kids. “Brats, this is Dum-E. He’s a robot.”
Summary: He wonders, though, just what it would be like to have a name. To have something for people to call him other than 'monster'.He thinks, maybe, it would be nice.
Many people have noticed how according to the math in the Disney movie Beauty and the Beast, the prince would have been 11 years old when he was cursed. This author decided to highlight this in a oneshot.
Until I find the fanfiction about Pepper being Iron Man while Tony’s out of commission and then deciding she doesn’t really want to give it up when he’s back in commission, this’ll tide me over.
Complete @ 1000 words
Tony/Pepper
[super short fic] [low intensity] [pepper potts] [tony’s there too]
“My brother has borne several children in the past,” Thor says. When none of the Avengers say anything in response, instead electing to stare at him in horror, he seems confused. “Did you not know of this?”
“I think I speak for all of us when I say, what the hell, man?” Clint says, doing something vaguely threatening with the salt shaker from the center of the table. “Your brother is just. So messed up, Thor.”
SO it should be noted first off that this story features a baby with non-humanoid... everything. From what I gather, she’s basically a ball of tentacles with several mouths in there somewhere. Which means that the baby is misgendered several time and it’s played for laughs. JSYK
SECOND THING that should be noted is that this is a crackfic all the way through. And I like it. I would, in fact, read several stories following the raising of the baby Bella. I’m a sucker for novelty, what can I say.
complete @ 5800 words
gen
[short fic] [low intensity] [crackfic] [loki is really serious about parenting okay] [none of the avengers know how to deal with that]
