#and so i uh. peeled wally | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hello-im-not-a-possum · 2 years ago

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(I'm still interested in the AU, but I'm slowing down on Snowflake requests just out of Very specific type of burnout. But if these two aren't the same Anon then they do have very similar tastes..)

Sammy felt cold, sluggish, exhausted, and just all around awful. It wasn't helped by the awful weather, awful heating system in the music department, and the awful, AWFUL pipes. He internally cursed his own body as well as the terrible timing it had on him. If he woke up feeling like this, he would have stayed home, but nope! Instead he felt just fine when he woke up and only felt this bad when he stepped in through the door.

"I swear if I didn't know any better I'd assume I was cursed..." the grumpy musician murmured under his breath as he wrapped the makeshift blanket around his shoulders, clicking his pen while trying to figure out the right notes for the newest song. "...Or maybe I was and I just didn't realize it-"

Connecting the dots, the musician bolted into the men's restroom just to double check in the mirror that there was no signs of spreading ink or magic doing magic things. But he was still on edge, just because it wasn't visible didn't mean he was safe...

"...Uh Sam? Are ya feeling okay?" The Janitor looked up from the sink he was scrubbing. "You're lookin' a little green around the gills there..."

"No."

"Regular sickness like the flu spreadin' around or Ink stuff?"

...Honestly it was a little concerning that they had to differentiate if it was ink or not, and what was slightly more concerning was the only answer he knew so far.

"I don't know yet, it's too early to tell which."

"Okay, well I've got a spare bucket just in case." Wally handed over the empty plastic bucket. "Hollar if ya need anything else."

"Thanks, either way yell at Joey for me."

"Will do." the Janitor half-chuckled. "But uh.. if its the former, do me a favor and keep da bucket close by. It's easier ta clean vomit outta a bucket than off da floor. Thanks!"

The musician nodded before leaving the janitor to finish his own work, he didn't feel *that* sick, but he also didn't feel sick at all when he was going to his job in the first place. Plus, he'd also rather not have to redo all his hard work thanks to a worsening stomach bug.

When he re-entered his office, he sat down and resumed comparing and contrasting the notes already on his desk, only turning away from them to scratch in a rough draft of a needed new theme. Only resting his eyes for a minute...

---

...A single, almost glowing white eye cracked open as the groggy monster peeled his inky body off of the floor. He cursed under his breath when he tried to wipe the sleep out of his eyes to be greeted with the irritably familiar slush that called itself ink while feeling more like a cold mud to the musician.

"Of course." He murmured bitterly to himself as he scraped up what was supposed to be his legs and managed to get them into the bucket. "It couldn't be just a damn cold, oh nooo. It had to be ink again. It's not like I'm running out of good clothes thanks to this nonsense." He scowled while trying to pull his sunken in shirt and pants out of his body. "Aaaaaand I can't dig my own clothes out of this gunk, great, lovely, EXACTLY what I needed today."

The ink man sighed as he set the makeshift blanket on the chair and sat down on his desk to inspect the damage. As he scanned his work for ink stains, he noticed someone left a box of band aids on his desk, alongside a freshly brewed cup of green tea, slice of chocolate cake on a plate, and a 'get well soon' card. He opened the card finding no signatures on it, no familiar handwriting, not even a doodle that could've hinted at who could've left these here. Just the cheesy yet well-meaning wishes already printed onto the card when it was made.

"Okay, there, we got him the stupid card too, happy?" Sammy overheard a gruff and grumpy sounding voice outside his office. "He's been out like that for at least thirty minutes already, he'll probably just sleep it off and continue like nothing happened after he changes back."

"...D-do you think we should also get him a real blanket?" replied the nervous, stuttering demon. "And dad recently mopped that floor too... s-so what what if he gets a burn from the ink remover if we leave him like that?"

Sammy slowly cracked open his office door. He still wasn't feeling ready to deal with anyone, but he figured he might as well confirm to the mechanic and the kid that he is in fact alive and not burning on the ground.

"Snowflake, he's a grown man and he's been through this song and dance more times than anyone here can count." The GENT worker rolled his eyes. "He's not one of those little toon rats who come to you with wide sad eyes and broken tails."

"H-HE'S A MELTED INK MAN, THOMAS!" Snowflake exclaimed with an urgency even the kid wasn't used to hearing in his voice. "This this isn't- isn't normal! I-it's not its not supposed to BE normal! I still really wanna a-ask Joey what to do... I wanna help him, I want to really help him, not just... just slap a band-aid box down on his desk and call it a day!"

"For Pete's sake! Whether it's 'supposed to' or not, it IS normal to the studio!" The man exclaimed back with slightly more irritation than usual. "And especially to Lawrence. That man is like a magical lightning rod! So can you stop wasting my time with this and let me go back to my damn job?!" The speckled imp shrank back as the man caught his breath. "Some of us have more important things to do than to play nurse to the studio's biggest butt monkey!"

"I-i'm sorry..." Snowflake sniffled. "I just wanted to help.."

"Well, next time, don't drag me into it! He. Is. Just. An. Ink. Creature. Not anything that's a danger to anyone els-GAaaAAH!!"

The sudden, cold and wet weight of a sheet of thick ink slapped itself on Thomas's back like a bucket full of slightly melted snow put precariously over a cracked-open door, startling both the imp and the GENT worker while the inky musician let out a few fake coughs before pulling himself free from the mechanic.

"Sorry *cough* *cough* about that I just have *cough* the worst luck today, having a TERRIBLE, *cough* POSSIBLY *cough* *cough* CONTAGAGIOUS cold *cough* on top of being turned into a toon... *cough*"

"W-wait, Mr. Lawrence, you're... you're a toon..?"

Snowflake blinked owlishly as he looked over the inky musician, taking note of his visible pie-cut eye, four-fingered hands, and altered, more distinctly recognizable silhouette. The prospect of a human being turned into a toon while being sick was a lot less horrifying to the kid than the notion that he was turned into a melting ink figure. But he still stepped back to give the man some space, while Snowflake experienced first-hand that toons melt when sick, Sammy must've been REALLY sick to be that melted.

"Yep, nothing *cough* too serious to worry about. It just looks worse than *cough* how it really is."

"W-well maybe I can ask Joey to let you go home and rest it off?" The timid imp offered. "We don't wan-want it to spread to everyone else..."

"Go ahead, but for *cough* now, I'll just quarantine myself in my office, okay?"

"Okay Sammy."

The ink man waved the kid off and shot the mechanic a glare once he was out of sight, which Thomas was quick to return.

"That was really goddamn low, Tom. That kid doesn't even have a single mean bone in his body. Treating him like that is like... yelling at a puppy that's afraid of everything."

"He has plenty of stupid ones in there and someone has to teach him because I know Wally wont."

"Teach him what, exactly?"

"To mind his own business and not drag other people into running all over the studio for a box of band aids and the other stuff! He wasted so much of my time with that stupid wild goose chase!"

"He didn't know what was going on and was trying to help how he could, you could have sat him down to explain what's going on to the kid for five minutes and then you'd be working on unclogging pipes that should've been unclogged months ago while Snowflake would be worrying less about the ink."

"Okay fine, in hindsight I should've knocked some sense into him, told him that the ink does that to you all the time, and to buzz off before he dragged me all over the place. Happy?! I learned my lesson."

Sammy gave him the most deadpan glare he could muster with only one eye and his other facial characteristics consumed by ink. "Hey, speaking of lessons, do you want to learn something about the Ink that we've learned through years of experience?"

"What?"

"It hates not having a spiteful asshole that it can throw magic at around. It only manages to last a full week at most before it will try to latch onto anyone who 'deserves to be the lightning rod'."

"...So?" the mechanic raised an eyebrow.

"Soooooo... *cough* *cough* With my TERRIBLE *cough* CONTAGIOUS disease, I think it's best for my health and the studio as a whole if I take two weeks of sick leave, *COUGH* maybe even three just to be safe." The ink creature gave the smuggest, most insufferable grin a somewhat humanoid glob of gunk could manage.

"You... You're making that up just to scare me, aren't you..?"

"Only one way for you to find out, Butt Monkey Junior."

#fanfic #hells studio #hells studio oc #sammy lawrence #snowflake the demon #wally franks #thomas connor

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amclgamating · 2 years ago

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Whoa. Whoa whoa whoa, okay.

Wally blinks, because Dick goes from relatively neutral to half-sobbing in about three seconds flat, and it takes his brain extra time to figure out exactly what he's crying about and how immediate his concern should be.

"Wh... hey... Dick, hey, look at me. Look, okay? See me? Take a deep breath, uh huh, just do it, just—in? Uh huh, and out. Good, good good good." Wally waits until Dick is on his third breath before moving to sit beside him, sweat and apartment fire stink be damned, folding in against his side and peeling off his gloves so he can take Dick's hands in his. "I mean... I'm—I'm not gonna pretend I'm not disappointed. I was really thinking I was bringing you around, but... what's—what's got you so upset? Did you think I was gonna be mad at you or something?"

He can count the number of times he's seen Dick cry, actually, fully cry, on one hand, and he's really hoping that the reason isn't because Dick already painted a picture of his reaction in his head.

god this fucking sucks. because wally looks so sweet and soft and supportive and dick is definitely not breaking up with him but he thinks wally might want to after this and that's an agonising sort of thought in itself. and maybe dick's still got little echoes of concussion, because his face crumples and he starts crying.

he tries not to cry in front of wally.

❛ i can't do central. not -- i can't do it full time. i wanted to, and i wanted it to work 'cause you do all this stuff for me and i wanted to be able to do that for you, but it's -- i can't. ❜ his hand has stilled in wally's hair, and he raises the other to scrub the sweater sleeve against his cheeks, shaking his head. ❛ and i know that's -- so unfair, 'cause i said i would and i wanted to but i'm just... ❜ miserable seems dramatic. he's not miserable with wally. it's all the other times, really. ❛ i don't fit. ❜

#bcywonder #• muse; wally west #(fb)#⚡️

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fanficimagery · 5 years ago

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Legendary

Summary: Imagine being the first person One recruits. You're someone who likes to work behind the curtains, so it takes a while before you meet the full team. And when you do, it's not under the best of circumstances, but it does get you face to face with Four- the guy you'd secretly been crushing on since One showed you his file.

Gif made by: @mrbenhardys | Gif set can be found HERE.

Words: 6.5K Warnings: Language.

Living in an abandoned airfield out in the middle of nowhere is not where you saw your life heading, but it was a hell of a lot better than living under the government's microscope all because they were wary of your mind. You had been picked up by the government in your late teens, your crimes being that of supplying criminals with gadgets far too advanced to be in their hands. But instead of locking you up, the government hired you to supply the good guys with technology only your mind had been able to come up with and make.

Eventually you noticed their leash on you was getting shorter and shorter, and eventually you made a run for it. And while on the run, that's when One made his introduction.

One was a genius himself, but he needed more brain power on his side to do what he wanted to do. And while helping stage a coup d'état had never crossed your mind, you couldn't help but want to when One told you all the terrible things Rovach Alimov did in Turgistan.

So after One helped you discreetly move all the money in your bank account to where he stored his apparent billions, he faked your death. It was a little trickier than he anticipated since the government was bound to make sure you were actually dead, but he accomplished it and then quickly moved you into an abandoned airfield where he set up shop.

"You're a ghost now," he says when leading you to your own trailer, "so you need a new name with no attachments and one that won't cause any attachments."

"What? Like One?" You huff a laugh.

One looks at you, expression affronted. "What's wrong with One?"

"I'm not going to be Two," you deadpan. "I'm all for staging a coup, but I suck at being a badass. I'm just the girl behind the curtain supplying you with cool toys. Might as well just call me Oz."

One opens his mouth to retort, but then hums. "Huh. Oz. I like it."

Over the months, as One solidifies his plans for what he's looking for in a team (even though he refuses to call them a team), he gets you comfortable in hand-to-hand combat and weapon's training. He whips you into shape, ignoring your whining the entire time, and surprises you after he deems you ready with an English Mastiff he saved from the streets.

You take the time to booby-trap the airfield, setting out sensors and setting up trip wires. You and One manage to get more trailers moved onto your base of operations, and in your down time you slowly start to make them livable for when he eventually recruited the others.

It's a little over a year when he catches wind of someone worthy to recruit and leaves you to do his job. It takes him a couple of days, but he eventually returns with Two- a former spy. The blonde woman had taken one look at you and clearly didn't like what she saw, and it wasn't until you offered to spar with her did she change her mind. She obviously won the match, but she saw why One kept you around and was glad to know you could take care of yourself even if you weren't going to be out in the field.

Then when One went out to recruit Three, a hitman; Four, a parkour expert and thief; Five, a doctor; and Six, a driver, Two always stayed back with you to test the new toys and gadgets you'd had in the making. You never met the others, even though One allowed you to read their files, and you were comfortable to not have been known to them. You lived right under their noses and they were none the wiser.

Six, however, was too nosy for his own good and eventually found you. Introductions were made and you ended up finding a kindred spirit in the getaway driver.

The longer Six and Two hung around you, the quicker it was for them to come to a realization- they noticing a pattern when one team member in particular was brought up. Four was insanely attractive and his accent over comms did things to you that had Two and Six making fun of you for. But One had rules in place and since he had taken you under his wing first, you felt compelled to follow them. So while you found Four attractive, pining from afar was all you'd do much to the displeasure of Two and Six who sometimes encouraged you to talk to the thief.

The ghosts are somberly getting out of the SUV, grabbing up their duffel bags and making their way towards the trailers. One hasn't said much since the clusterfuck of a mission in Italy, but as he sets his sights on one trailer in particular, he sighs.

"So are we gonna rock, paper, scissor this, Two? Someone has to deliver the news to Oz."

The blonde woman rolls her eyes. "I'll do it. Better to hear it from me than you."

The others glance around, frowning. "Who the hell is Oz?" Three asks.

One and Two share a look before he says, "Oz is the man behind the curtains and the creator of more than half the shit we use, as well as the person who keeps the base livable."

"Oz and Six were like siblings," Two then says. The others share a surprised look, especially when One quietly groans at Two's admission.

One looks at the trailer one last time before breaking off from the group, the others continuing to follow after Two. Upon stopping at the trailer door, Two raises a fist and pounds three times on it. A dog barks inside.

"So this is where Wally disappears to," Four mumbles.

"Well he should," Two replies. "Oz is his maman."

"Wait. What? Oz is a woman?"

- X - X - X - X - X -

Clad in a gray tank top, black short tights, and a black silk robe hanging open around your shoulders, you open the trailer door only to be greeted by a solemn Two, Three, Four, and Five. You flash them a hesitant smile. "Hey, guys. What brings you to my humble abode?" Wally pushes passed you and makes a beeline for Four, you rolling your eyes at your overly friendly beast. Looking around the group, you realize one face in particular is missing. Which is odd. "Where's Six?"

Three cringes, Four averts his gaze and focuses on Wally, and Five's eyes widen before her gaze darts to Two. Two sighs. "Six didn't make it. I'm sorry."

Your smile immediately drops and your breath hitches. "H-How?"

"The car skidded," Five tells you, voice sympathetic. "We hit a forklift and he was impaled. It was instant. I couldn't save him."

Your mouth scrunches up as you sniffle, determined to keep the tears at bay. "Thanks for telling me." Clearing your throat, you then nod at Four. "Can you watch Wally for a bit? I know he likes you."

"Uh. Sure."

"Thanks."

"Oz," Two calls out, stepping up into your trailer as you turn around. She catches you pulling on a pair of jeans, then shoving your feet into a pair of boots. She sighs. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Never." Reaching into a bowl by your front door, you grab a set of keys before reaching up to grab a helmet off the shelf. Then as you exit and walk around to the back of your trailer, you pull off the sheet covering a shiny black on black Kawasaki Ninja sports bike. "Tell One not to worry. I'll be back."

Shoving the helmet down atop your head, you climb atop your bike, start the engine, and take off.

- X - X - X - X - X -

When you return back home, all is quiet. One is the only one out and about, and when he sees you he salutes you with the bottle of beer in his hand. You tap your helmet to let him know you're alright and continue on driving towards your trailer- your trailer which has noise coming from the inside.

Not too upset that someone has apparently trespassed into your space, you stomp up the stairs into your trailer only to be greeted by Wally. Smiling tiredly, you toss your keys back into the bowl and set down your helmet. "Hey, handsome. Did you miss me?" You let Wally give you one kiss, cringing as his tongue swipes up the side of your face, before standing up. Then looking at your couch, you shake your head in faint amusement at Four. "Made yourself comfortable, I see."

"You have a better set-up," he grins, unapologetically. You roll your eyes at him, kicking his feet off your coffee table before taking a seat next to him. He gestures to the back of his neck while staring at yours. "You good? You didn't have that when you left."

Touching the bandage on the back of your neck, you nod. "I'm fine. Just a small tattoo."

"Really? What'd you get?" Peeling off the bandage, you allow him to see the freshly shaven patch of hair just above the nape of your neck and the number 6 tattooed there. Four hums. "Two mentioned you were like siblings."

"Yeah. He was a nosy little bastard," you say, huffing a small laugh as you relax into your seat. "He wandered up to my trailer one day, hit on me, and then when I rejected him we just settled into a sibling bond that kind of pissed off One."

"You got too close."

"We got too close and that's against One's rules," you agree. "Now I guess I can see why he didn't want us to get too personal. This feeling sucks."

"Yeah. The whole mission was fucked from the get-go, but One didn't wanna pull out."

"Of course not. We're one step closer to Rovach. Nothing will get in One's way, not even the death of one of my little ghosts."

Four quirks an eyebrow at you. "Your ghosts?"

"Duh. This might be One's operation, but you're all mine, Four. I look after you, even if you don't know I'm doing it."

He chuckles and you notice a faint blush touching his cheeks. You ignore it. "Now that you mention it, One doesn't seem like the type of person to get all our favorite snacks when out shopping and stocking our cupboards in secret."

You grin. "You're welcome." Four continues to smile before letting his attention be dragged back towards the TV. You silently yawn. "Not to be rude, but I'm gonna shower and head to bed. You're more than welcome to stay, but if you wake me up I will murder you and not feel guilty about it afterward."

"Noted."

Surprisingly Four stays, he making camp on your couch. You chuckle quietly, call Wally to bed, and bid Four a good night.

Now that the others knew of your existence, you had a constant stream of visitors. One, Four, and Five would visit on their own, and you noticed Three would tag along every now and then with Two. But the ones who lingered the longest were always Four and Five- Four with his lame jokes and boyish smiles, and Five with her thirst of knowledge for how you made some of her medical supplies.

One's in a bit of a snit, looking for a new recruit to become Seven. You offered your help, but he refused it, so you went off to work on your newest creation.

You've been tucked away in your personal hangar, too far in the zone to remember to take breaks. So it's no surprise you're startled when the hangar door is slid open.

"Time to come up for air, Oz," Four shouts. "We bring you food."

Squinting towards the too bright door, your expression brightens upon Four and Five. "My two favorite people!" You cheer. "Don't let Two know I said that though. She scares me."

Five laughs as Four tosses a greasy bag at you, you catching it and then immediately diving in. Settling down on a stool, you pull out a burger and take the largest bite you can. You groan at the taste, ignoring Four and Five's amused looks, and accept whatever fountain drink it is that Five passes you.

"So what were you working on?" Five asks. "We stopped by earlier, but you were blaring music and didn't see us."

"Mmm. Yeah." You quickly swallow the food in your mouth. "Come check this out." Wiping the burger and fry grease off your fingers, you grab a non-labeled can and gesture for Four to step closer. "Close your eyes and pucker up."

His eyes widen, cheeks heating up, and Five snorts. "Joking," you grin. "But seriously, close your eyes."

Now chuckling, Four does as you say. You grasp him by the chin and gently turn his head from side to side as you spray his face with your newest creation. "What.. the fuck, Oz," he grumbles. "What is this?"

"It's for when you go out and about. I'm tired of cameras picking up all your pretty faces and hacking into foreign servers to erase your presence."

Five frowns. "Have we been caught a lot?"

Four's eyes flutter open and you direct him to where the nearest camera is as you walk over to a bank of computers. "Not a lot, but it's more than I like." With a few clicks, you bring up the video feed from inside the hangar. Four's face on the screen is now severely distorted that it's impossible to ID him. "And now with this spray, you won't have to worry about being caught ever again."

You freeze one of the feeds so that Four can walk over and see for himself. "Holy shit. You really are a genius."

"Duh."

"Can't wait to test it out in the field," he then says. After staring at his distorted face and then touching his face for any lingering residue, he asks, "So how do I take it off?"

You freeze. "Take it off? Huh. I knew I forgot something."

This time Four freezes and Five hides her smile as her gaze darts between the two of you. "Oz. Please tell me there's a solution to getting this stuff off my face?"

"Well.."

"Oz!" Four fakes lunging are you and you yelp, laughing. A smile of his own blossoms, green eyes sparkling in amusement.

"Kidding. I'm kidding!" You walk around the table, keeping distance between you and him. "All you need is soap and water."

"You better be right."

As Four walks off towards the bathroom, Five clears her throat. The Hispanic beauty grins at you. "When are you going to cave and just get with him?"

Your smile slowly falls as you sigh. "Come on, Five. You know the rules just as-"

She scoffs. "Pinche rules. You broke with them with Six, why not with Four? We all see the way you look at each other when the other isn't paying attention."

"Look. I like Four. Okay?" You quickly glance around to make sure he's still busy. "But I- how can I start something with someone who's almost eighty percent sure the Turgistan mission is a suicide mission? Starting anything with Four will only end in heartbreak."

"Turgistan is shaping up to look very risky," Five agrees, "so it's better to grab hold of whatever happiness you can find while you can."

"Easier said than done."

One has left to hopefully recruit a Seven, it's hot as balls out, and you're in desperate need of a cool down. You have the perfect place- an above ground pool set inside the hangar that's the furthest away- but you're just missing the company. Two is a no-go because of her new shadow that comes in the form of Three, and Four is- well he's Four. You text Five, but she's busy going over some medical texts to keep her mind sharp, so you reluctantly text Four in the end.

You ask him if he fancy's a swim, much to his amusement, and then tell him to meet you at the hangar that's on the far West side of the airfield if he's up to it.

With your swimsuit on underneath a tank top and shorts, you head for the hangar. Wally walks beside you, keeping you company, tail then wagging excitedly when he realizes just where exactly it is you're going. And since the pool had been prepared earlier that morning, all you have to do is slide open the hangar door and open up the slates in the ceiling to allow a bit more light and air draft in.

There's a wooden deck surrounding the pool and Wally excitedly runs up the stairs.

"Don't, Wally. Stay!"

Steps away from jumping into the refreshing water, Wally freezes and then whines impatiently. You chuckle as you walk up the stairs yourself, you then stripping down to your bathing suit and setting up some music to play from a tablet on a nearby lounger. The music resonates from speakers hanging in the two back corners of the hangar, but it's not too loud that it'd mask any sensors being tripped around the airfield. And the second you dive into the refreshing water, Wally dives in after you.

Wally doggie paddles for about fifteen seconds before giving in and swimming over to the steps leading out of the pool, he then lounging on the top most step so he could keep his body submerged while laying his head on the deck and out of the water. You huff laugh before taking a couple of laps around the pool, then when you tire of that you climb into a floating mesh pool chair and drift leisurely.

You've made it through three songs before you sense another presence, your eyes fluttering open to the sight of Four standing at the ledge of the pool.

"I thought you were joking about going for a swim," he muses. "How'd you swing this set-up?"

"Before One started recruiting the rest of you numbers, it was just me and him here. We got into a really heated argument early on and I nearly called it quits on him, but I was just being a moody bitch and decided to distance myself before making any drastic decisions," you tell Four. "I pitched the idea of having my own space far away from him and so long as I could get it done, then I could have it."

"And you chose a pool?"

"Well yeah. One's not allowed in here so I figured I'd make my space a place where someone would want to escape to in the desert heat. I like rubbing it in his face that he's not allowed in here. Serves him right for hurting my feelings."

Four chuckles. "I'm honored then."

"You should be. The only people who know about this place is One and now you. Six knew, but he apparently took that secret to the grave." Four's expression softens a bit and you grin at him. "So are you coming in or what? It's nice and cool," you muse. Then holding your gaze, Four quirks an eyebrow at you before stripping off his shirt. Your eyes narrow in an attempt to keep them from wandering down his pale torso and he has the audacity to smirk at you. "I hate you," you mumble.

"Nah. I don't think you do." His pants are next to go and the cheeky bastard strips down to his boxer briefs before diving into the water. When he resurfaces, he smooths back his blonde hair and them swims over to you. "So what are we going to do now that you've got me stripped down?"

You snort. "Nothing, you prat. I seriously only asked you out here for a swim."

"Then let's swim." He smiles devilishly at you and your narrow your eyes. He inches closer and you start to kick your feet in order to move your float away.

"Don't. You. Dare."

"Oh. I dare." Four upends your floating chair and you squeal as he dumps you back under the water. When you resurface, you splash him. "You fucking dick."

"What?" He laughs.

You and Four then spend the next several minutes chasing after one another, splashing and dunking each other. Even Wally gets in on the fun, but he only lasts a handful of seconds before he swims back to his step.

Then when you and Four tire of the water, you both swim over to the side of the pool. You think nothing of his closeness until you pull yourself out to sit on the edge, only for him to remain right in front of you as his hands slowly wrap around to your calves. Instantly, the atmosphere around you becomes a bit oppressive and the energy between you and Four is suddenly electrified.

You gulp. "What are you-"

"Just testing a theory, love."

"Yeah? And what theory would that be?"

Four smirks as he nudges your knees just enough apart so his torso fits between them. Then with hands settled on the deck on either side of your thighs, he uses his upper body strength to push himself up so he's towering slightly over you. As you slightly lean back, you gulp yet again as you come nose to nose with him. His eyes dart over your every feature as your heart hammers inside your chest, but before any progress or objection can be made, someone else makes it for you.

"When the fuck did we get a pool?" Three's voice rings out. Wally barks in response.

You sigh in relief, Four quietly groans before dropping back into the water, and you pull your legs out so you can stand up. Then just as you've picked up a towel from one of the loungers, you see Two and Three appear at the top of the deck stairs.

"We didn't get a pool," you tell Three as you wrap yourself up. "I got the pool a while back."

"Mhmm," Two drawls. "And how convenient Four is the only one who apparently knew about it." You blush as her knowing gaze darts to the boy in question who's lazily swimming laps.

"He literally found out about it an hour ago," you tell her. "I would have invited you, but I knew Three would have tagged along."

"Hey!"

You grin at his affronted expression. "No offense. I just wasn't ready for your energy yet, but I guess the cat's out of the bag now."

"Oh. It is." Three eagerly strips down to his own boxer briefs, he cannon-balling into the pool. Immediately, he and Four start to play fight.

Two walks over to you, shaking her head as she stares down at the two squabbling men. "We work with idiots."

"Really hot idiots," you mumble.

Two turns to look at you and when you catch her gaze, you see the corner of her mouth twitch up into a smile. For some reason, seeing her amusement rather than hearing an admonishment seems to make you breath a little easier.

Fingers flying over your keyboard, you gaze darts over the several screens you have control over. Some screens are nothing but coding, while others are surveillance cameras around the airfield and traffic cams you've hacked into. You're so caught up in what you're doing that the door sliding open at your back startles you.

Immediately grabbing the gun beneath your desk, you twirl your chair around and take aim. Four and the newly recruited Seven hold their hands up. Sighing, you roll your eyes before lowering your weapon and setting it on the desk. "Really, Four? Couldn't have given me a heads up?"

"Sorry, love." The way he's smirking, you know he's not sorry at all. Seven frowns at Four's pet name for you, but you pay his reaction no mind. "Just thought I'd introduce our newest number."

"Mhm." Glancing at Seven, you offer him a faint grin. "Nice to meet you. I'm Oz."

"Seven," he says. He then glances around the room as he and Four enter fully, and you twirl back around before continuing your work. "What exactly do you do?" You hear him ask. "When One gave me the rundown of the team, you weren't mentioned."

"She and One practically built this place," Four says. "Oz is literally the man- er, woman- behind the curtain around here. If you hadn't been introduced to her, you'd have never known she was here."

Huffing a laugh, you say, "Still a bit bitter about me living under your noses for months, are you?" After punching a few more keys, you whirl back around and stand up to address Seven. "Tell One he's getting sloppy. I picked you up on three different traffic cams and had to delete your trail."

"She's also a smarty-pants," Four muses.

"And I also make the best toys," you tell Seven. "So if you need anything or want anything, run it by me and I'll do my best to get it for you. One likes to treat you all like pawns in his missions and have no connections to you, but you guys have killed yourselves to join this team. You made yourselves ghosts to rid the world of truly horrific people, so I'm going to do my damn best and take care of you ghosts."

Four grins. "We're hers, in case you didn't pick up on it."

"Don't be a wanker," you retort, snorting when he pouts at your use of his slang. "But yes, Four is right. You ghosts are mine and I take care of what's mine."

Seven chuckles quietly. "You are not someone I expected to be on One's team."

"One's rules are in place for a reason," you say, now smiling sadly. "I recently learned the hard way, but I guess I'm just a glutton for punishment." His expression falters and you sigh. "Well if you boys will excuse me, I've got a dog to feed and errands to run. I'll see you around."

Four and Seven watch as Oz gathers a few files, she then quickly taking her leave. And as soon as she's out the door, Seven turns to Four.

"What did she mean by learning the hard way? One come down on her about something?"

"Oz and Six became close- like brother and sister," he says while leading Seven out of the room. "We didn't know about her being here until One realized someone had to tell her about Six's death. Two told her the news and we tagged along. It was our first meeting."

He whistles lowly. "Talk about a shitty first meeting."

"Yeah. No kidding."

"And her being a glutton for punishment? Is that because she cares for the other ghosts or because there's something between you and her?"

Four barks out a laugh. "Picked up on that, did you?"

"Kind of hard not to."

"Yeah." Four sighs. "Me and Oz, it's complicated. We've acknowledged the chemistry, but she's also made it known that she doesn't want to break anymore of One's trust."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Gotta be, mate. Oz is.. special. She's someone I want in my life, be it a friend or something more later on down the road. I'm okay with waiting."

"You're that confident, huh?" Seven chuckles. "Good luck with that, man."

It doesn't take long for One to come up with a decent plan for the big takeover, the first part of their mission coming up in Las Vegas where the Four Generals were going to be. You had sat in the back of the room while One explained what they were going to be doing, compiling lists of outfits, weapons, and gadgets the team would be needing.

Then the day comes when the team is to take off and you follow them to the plane. You don't know why, but the idea of them going on this particular mission is giving you anxiety.

Upon arriving at the plane stairs, Three immediately walks up them and disappears inside with a barely mumbled, "See you on the other side, chiquita."

One, Two, Four, Five, and Seven linger around and you sigh as you look around at all of them. "Well I would tell you all to be safe, but I know how dumb you guys all are." Two cracks a grin as Four, Five, and Seven snicker. "So Five, please keep them in one piece until you get back home."

Five laughs. "No promises, but I will do my best."

Five then boards the plane, followed by a winking Two. Seven is still chuckling as he gives you a one-armed hug and One grumbles at all the affection going around. One follows after Seven and then you're left alone with Four.

"If we make it back alive, you and I are going out."

You scoff, shaking your head in amusement. "The rules-"

"Fuck the rules, Oz." Four steps closer to you- close enough to grasp you by the back of your head and reel you in. You gasp, but his lips land on your forehead instead of where you were momentarily fearing. "If we win, you and I are going on vacation away from One and his rules. Sound good?"

"I-" You trail off, sighing. One's rules were a bit ridiculous, but you understood why he didn't want anyone getting close. Their jobs were highly dangerous and if anyone became comprised, their significant other became compromised and the whole mission would be in jeopardy. And that was a no-no. But you were only human and living the life of a ghost was rather lonely. So against your better judgement you give in, your hands landing on Four's waist as you angle your head up to quickly press a kiss to his cheek. "Come back home to me and we'll talk about it."

Four practically beams, but before he can retort One is poking his head back out. "For fuck's sake, Four. Get your ass on the plane!"

You hadn't realized how much Six's death impacted you until the team took off again. You were fine for the first couple of hours, keeping yourself busy with Wally and doing a bit of light shopping, but then you started feeling anxious. The airfield was too quiet and you immediately started to miss Four's random drop-ins.

You started off by cleaning your trailer, then moving onto One's since he had given you permission to be in there when he wasn't. Two's trailer was off limits, Three's was a nightmare, and Five's was impeccable. You were hesitant to enter Four's trailer, but he had no problem with you in his space so you went ahead and went in. His trailer, however, was only slightly messy so you picked up his dirty dishes and took out the trash. There were a few articles of clothing scattered around on the floor, so you picked them up and threw them in the small hamper located next to his bed. Then without even thinking about it, you grabbed one of his clean shirts to later wear.

You eat dinner at a decent time and then set up in your trailer's front room with several laptops. One has a secret burner phone that he texts you updates from, letting you know when a special device is in place at the hotel the Four Generals are to be staying at the following day. And with the device in place, you're able to hack into their security feed.

The following day the plan is set into motion. You follow Two and Three's every move through the hotel, snorting at the shitty job they've done of putting on their prosthetics. You watch as Three shoots someone through the peephole of a door and as soon as they disappear inside, you get started on deleting their digital footprint that led them up to the Generals' room. You leave their appearance in and around the casino, and even doctor some footage of them during the time of the murders to give them an alibi. Then checking all camera angles outside that might have caught Seven sniping from another building, you give One the all clear.

The Las Vegas mission is a success and then your stomach drops when One informs you they'll be heading to Hong Kong. He'll be radio silent which means you'll be in the dark. You'll only know if they've succeeded via news outlets should they pick up on the coup taking place.

Two and a half days later, shit goes down.

It's almost four in the morning when every alert you have on any news of Turgistan go off. You jump out of bed and scramble for your laptops, turning on your TV. Every news station is covering the coup taking place. Your heart hammers frantically, your stomach cramps, and you're on the edge of your seat.

Then you see it. Rovach Alimov has been caught by a group of vigilantes and his brother Murat is to take his place as President after they've delivered Rovach to a village of people who all want revenge.

So with the mission successful, your only worry is whether everyone made it out or not.

You doze in and out of sleep throughout the rest of the day, shooting One a text to get in touch with you asap. Around dinner time, you then get a text message that has you laughing but also very confused.

[Your boy is relatively fine. Broken arm. Don't break his heart because I'll have to be a dick and still side with you.]

Wondering where the hell One's sudden change of heart has come from, you stare blankly at your phone until another text comes through.

[BTW, Two and Four are fucking. If I see Four's lily white ass around base, I am allowed in your pool and there's not a damn thing you can say about it.]

Now laughing uncontrollably, you decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth. You agree to his terms and then find out they should be in the following afternoon. So with more than enough time to finally get a good sleep-in, you make sure Wally has enough food and water before going to sleep now that you're not so anxious.

Hours later, when you finally wake feeling refreshed, you prepare for the team's arrival. You know that as soon as they get to their trailers you won't see them for a few hours as they decompress, so you make sure to time your little surprise perfectly.

Strategically placing speakers around the runway where the team will be unloading, you sync up a particular song in preparation. You know it'll annoy One, but the others ought to get a kick out of it.

You're watching for the plane, and when it lands butterflies take flight in your stomach. The minutes seem to drag on as the plane finally comes to a stop and as soon as the stairs are lowered, you start the song.

As everyone disembarks and slightly spreads out, you start to jog towards them as they make their way towards you. Halfway to them, you stop and spread your arms out at your sides. You scream and then whoop for their victory, and then blare the music coming from the speakers by pressing a button on the phone in your pocket. From far away, you can see Three, Four, Five, and Seven chuckling at you.

"'Cause we're gonna be legends! Gonna get their attention. What we're doing here ain't just scary, it's about to be legendary. Yeah we're gonna be legends. Gonna teach 'em all a lesson. Got this feeling that we're so sweet caring, it's about to be legendary."

Seven throws his arms up in the air, hollering, and you laugh before moving again. This time your path is directly towards Four, but you make sure to be extra careful of his arm in a sling as you meet him toe to toe. Immediately he pulls you into a kiss and you can't help but smile when you hear Five and Seven catcalling you.

As you pull back, you can't keep the smile off your face as you and Four stare at one another. Momentarily breaking eye contact with him, you pull out the phone in your pocket and stop the music. "You made it," you then tell Four.

"I almost didn't," he sheepishly admits. "Blaine saved my arse and then One nearly compromised the mission for me in the end."

Brow furrowing, you glance around at the lingering team. "Blaine?" Seven raises his hand and waves, and your eyebrows raise in surprise. "When did we start using our old names?"

"When One was about to leave your boy dangling several stories up and I made the call to save him."

"Wait. What?" You whirl on One and he sighs dramatically.

"Oh don't give me that look. See this is why I had rules in place about not getting too close," One says, pointing between you and Four, and Two and Three. "But since Two and Three are fucking, I can't exactly say anything about you wanting to get into Four's pants! Which, by the way, ew."

"Oi!" Four exclaims, but you just snort.

Leaning into Four's side so he can lay his uninjured arm around your shoulders, you look out at everyone else. Two catches your gaze, grinning. "Name's Camille."

"Javier," Three says, grabbing Camille's hand in his own. Surprisingly, she lets him.

"Amelia," Five then introduces herself.

Everyone looks at One, but he rolls his eyes. "You're all still calling me One. Now if you'll excuse me, my bed is calling my name."

As One takes his leave, your attention goes back to those surrounding you. "Y/N," you then say. Looking up at Four, you grin. "My name is Y/N."

"Hello, Y/N. I'm Billy."

"And on that note, I think we should be leaving the lovebirds alone." Javier chuckles at Blaine's statement, but nonetheless everyone takes the hint and follows after the dark skinned man.

Once everyone has given you their backs, you turn so you're practically chest to chest with Billy and gently grasp his face in your hands. You pull him into a kiss, pecking his lips once, then twice, and chuckle softly. "I've been wanting to do that since One showed me your file."

"Yeah? Anything else you've wanted to do?"

"Oh. Loads," you muse, smirking, and nipping his bottom lip. "But we're not getting up to that until Five gives you the okay."

Billy groans. "You're such a tease."

"And don't you forget it." Hooking your arm through his, you then start dragging him towards the trailers. "Now come on. Wally's missed you. You're sleeping in mine until my anxiety goes away."

"Aw you missed me?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't let it get to your head."

#fanficimagery #imagine #6 underground x reader #6 underground imagine #6 underground #billy x reader #four x reader #four/billy x reader #one #two #four #four imagine #billy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine

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sohannabarberaesque · 5 years ago

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Underwater America with Peter Potamus: Florida’s Treasure Coast

Continuing our cross-country tour (and fictional TV series), our heroes travel further south along Florida’s coast in our latest installment. This episode takes place in July 1970.

The ten of us continued down State Road A1A after finishing off a dive in Pelican Flats off Cape Canaveral—a dive that started with the exploration of a grassy reef and ending with all of us swimming alongside three-dozen-or-so manta rays. What a way to make a living.

“We’re going to a wreck next?” Magilla asked, peeling a banana in the back seat.

“Yep! We’re going to Fort Pierce.” I replied as I waited for the traffic light to turn green.

“Ahhh, but can it top the rays we saw?” Breezly said, still giddy from the experience.

The more I thought about it, the reef dive seemed somewhat ordinary up until that moment. “Who knows. I think we got lucky that day,” I said as I drove the minibus along the street. “We were just…there until that happened.”

Hokey, who rode shotgun that day, agreed. “True, true, Peter my buddy. We may have swam with the rays, but we came out of there wet and hungry, as we always do!”

I snickered. “Okay, okay, I get the picture. I suppose we should get some dinner in a little while. We can get a snack before then.” Everyone else agreed. We had lots of time before we got the nitrogen out of our systems, anyway. I decided on a seafood restaurant—complete with patio—in North Hutchinson Island, only a short drive from Vero Beach, one of the northern cities of the region of Florida known as the Treasure Coast.

The food was plentiful, even for the ten of us: a few lobsters, fried catfish and plenty of battered shrimp would keep us full for awhile, and the sides—cole slaw and hush puppies—topped off this delicious meal. “OH, BOY!” we explained, and dug in.

Naturally, the lobsters were claimed by Hokey and Wally, who had desired them ever since a failed attempt to bring back a couple of them from our Pelican Flats dive. We didn’t mind; I filled myself up on the shrimp and hush puppies, while a couple of others, notably Squiddly and Mildew, admired the catfish.

“Oooh, those spices!” Mildew said joyously, savoring the seasonings put into it. “What do you think’s in it?”

“I don’t think they’ll tell!” Squiddly chuckled, biting into a delicious shrimp.

Wally had a pair of shrimp at once, together with plenty of scooped-up cocktail sauce. He found it delicious, although he did not expect the sauce to be as strong as it was—there was plenty of horseradish in it to clear his sinuses. Fortunately, a glass of water helped him through his little coughing spell. “Perhaps a little sauce isn’t a bad idea. Just a little, dont’cha know!” he said, laughing.

The sea breezes added that extra bit of enjoyment indoor eating just doesn’t have. We also got to view some small beach gettogethers of about five or six people, and were able to get an up-close view when we walked along the beach after dinner. Unfortunately for Squiddly, not a single one of those parties had a guitar, though it did have plenty of beer.

For many, the combination of the tides and the wet sand feels so nice between the toes of those who walk along it. For us, the water was just a fact of life. We had been underwater for so long by this point that we simply didn’t experience as much of a pleasant surprise as other people usually have, those who stroll along the beach or wade in the ocean to unwind after a long day. Not to take away from the wet sand, though; we felt it and we liked it—that is, until we were about to get into the minibus. I was adamant about us not tracking sand into the car, and we wiped off our feet with a towel before we got inside.

We spent the night at a motel in Vero Beach, booking three rooms for the ten of us. While Magilla watched some television and Squiddly filled the bath for a good night’s rest, I read up on further information regarding our next destination, the Spanish wreck Urca de Lima.

The Urca de Lima, a 305-ton Dutch-built merchant ship, was one of a dozen ships in the 1715 Spanish Treasure Fleet, tasked with carrying goods and treasure from the New World back to the Spanish Main. The Urca de Lima was one of five ships captained by Juan Esteban de Ubilla.

On July 24, 1715, Ubilla’s fleet, supplemented by six other Spanish ships, commandeered by Antonio de Echeverez, and a French ship, El Grifón, sent to ward off pirates, set sail from Havana, Cuba, intending to reach the city of Cádiz in Spain. Among their combined booty was a large amount of gold and silver. The Urca de Lima, though, mostly carried goods, along with some private silver kept in chests. The fleet, however, made it as far as Florida when a hurricane hit them, pushing the ships to the coast and either sinking or grounding them. Only the French ship escaped unscathed. More than half the crew of those eleven ships died, including both commanders. The Urca de Lima, however, steered into a river inlet, and the hull remained intact. This allowed the goods to be salvaged, keeping the survivors well-fed for a few days.

The ship’s cargo was eventually salvaged and the ship’s hull burned down to the waterline in order to hide it from pirates, although the existence of the sunken fleet was widely known by that time.

In December, the salvage camp was heavily raided by two British privateers—Henry Jennings and Charles Vane—and their men, and made away with gold and silver totalling over $3 million in today’s money!

Since its rediscovery in 1928, numerous salvage permits were granted, but very little came of it, as far as treasure was concerned. There was a silver piece here and there, but that was it.

Those thoughts were still with me even as we took a stroll along one of Vero Beach’s most popular tourist attractions, McKee Jungle Gardens, a botanical garden off U.S. Route 1.

This time it was Loopy de Loop’s turn to enjoy himself, following the semi-carnivorous overtures his lupine colleagues Hokey and Mildew gave at Tosohatchee. He stopped to smell the flowers with every new variety that came into view, and there were well over a hundred different species, in addition to the gorgeous streams and ponds we viewed that morning.

“Ahh, nature!” exclaimed Loopy. “Is there anything as breathtaking as a botanical garden, with so many magnificent flowers on display in a single place?”

“Yeah, underwater!” Squiddly eagerly replied, taking a bit of power out of Loopy’s monologue.

“Uh, yes, that as well, but I’m sure you understand, for you are but an octopus!”

“True…” Squiddly’s voice wandered off.

Having cleared our minds of any ill thoughts, and rejecting a suggestion by Mildew to abandon Loopy at the garden, I drove back onto the highway and headed east back onto A1A.

Upon stopping in the city of Fort Pierce we chartered a boat to take us to the Urca de Lima, east of Jack Island Park on the opposite side of the Indian River. Everyone checked their gear and put it on, while I piloted the craft out of the river and back onto the ocean.

I was happy to learn that, as the wreck was only 200 feet from shore, we would be diving at very shallow depths compared to Pelican Flats: ten to fifteen feet. I set a diving time of sixty minutes, with no decompression necessary. Maybe we would get a look at some more fish, but for now, it was all about the ship. To ensure that the wreck would not be damaged by an anchor, we instead used a mooring buoy to keep the boat in place.

We dove in following the safety briefing. Once we were close to the floor, we split up into our usual groups. As we swam along, we noticed that there was very little of the ship left, with only the keel, garboard and one side of the boat visible after that entire time, and even then what remained had a lot of vegetation grow on it. After all, this was a wreck that was over 250 years old, and a lot of things tend to happen near the shore in that length of time. The sands and the wildlife come and go—mostly come. Nevertheless, some of us were still in awe over what is basically an old-style artificial reef.

Although I was convinced the chances of finding even one coin were slim, that obviously didn’t stop Hokey, who brushed along the ocean floor with his hands in the hope of uncovering said coin. Wally, being his trusted friend and divemate, couldn’t help but join in and also find nothing. Convinced their big score wasn’t going to happen, they continued to swim along the hull.

We explored the area outside the ship for other remnants. South of the ship’s main structure, Lippy and Hardy were able to find some cannons strewn about—five in all. This in itself is a fascinating thing, although there were originally more cannons around the ship; several of them had been salvaged, cleaned up and exhibited. Mildew and Loopy soon joined them, and Mildew had a little fun by peeking inside, and reaching his hand into, one of the cannons. Eventually, the others joined in after seeing enough of the hull.

As they enjoyed themselves, I was reminded of the salvage operations that took place for decades (and which brought several of the cannons to the surface for exhibition) and continue to take place today, and felt that continued operations would evenually diminish the diving and snorkeling experiences many locals and tourists greatly enjoy. After all, it isn’t every day you have a shipwreck in your own backyard, let alone one that is very accessible.

Art by Bob Jiggles

I began to swim with Hokey and Wally away from the cannons after awhile, heading west. We had intended to see the sights of some fish that may be around, but we ended up finding one of Urca de Lima’s anchors instead, laid out along the ocean floor. It appeared to be about ten feet long and, like the cannons, were completely rusted. It gave us an idea as to how much of the ship actually remained, as almost everything else was broken up over time. The other anchor was also among the items salvaged and exhibited to the public.

Meanwhile, Mildew, still hoping for a trinket or two, reached into the other cannons and found nothing but maybe a stray rock or two perhaps making their way inside. Running his hands along several spots on the ocean floor didn’t work, either. Although the others were convinced they weren’t going to find anything, it didn’t stop Mildew, one of the most tenacious among us in whatever he did. Not until Loopy placed a hand on Mildew’s shoulder and shook his head did he give up his own little treasure quest; the bubbles gushing from the regulator hinted at a sigh of disappointment.

Squiddly swam along the remnants of the hull, his camera picking up the entirety of it, along with some of the animals for size comparison. He would tell me later that it might have been better were we to create a chain by grabbing each other’s legs. We might’ve made a good animal yardstick.

Feeling that we had seen enough of the wreck, I called for the whole crew to surface. We made our way back to the boat, somewhat disappointed. It was a delight to view a wreck, sure, but our expectations had been set too high. Although the ship was burned centuries ago to prevent detection by pirates, we still thought there was plenty for us to see.

We continued further south on our journey. Our next stop was Key Largo, home of John Pennekamp State Park, featuring some of the finest coral reefs in the country and home to a diverse group of marine life. Many of us felt like going on another dive before then, so we parked our minibus at a beach in Jupiter, just north of West Palm Beach.

Magilla and I broke out the bike pump and set about refilling the tanks with pressurized air before we could hit the water again. “It won’t be long now!” Magilla said excitedly, even though we had nine tanks to fill.

This time, we entered from the sands of the beach, donning our fins once the water was halfway up to our knees. This was strictly a pleasure dive where we could just play around in the water for awhile at a shallow depth. Usually this consisted of playing tag with one another, as Breezly and Magilla demonstrated, although some others had fun in different ways: Mildew felt like basking in the sun’s rays even in the water, and posed as though he was laying back in a beach chair, letting nothing bother him. Wally, a bit of a zany character himself, joined Mildew a minute later. Hokey and Loopy interacted with the occasional fish passing by them, while Lippy and Hardy just swam around, unsure of what to do themselves; they were simply content with watching.

We explored further by swimming towards the Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse. Our heads above water, the view was clear for all of us. Squiddly pointed in the direction of six creatures congregating together. “Manatees!” he exclaimed joyfully.

I removed my mouthpiece. “Must’ve gone after a female,” I said, before putting it back in. We swam closer to the pack while keeping our mouthpieces on, even though our heads were above the surface; we didn’t want to deal with ocean water in the hose.

The manatees turned and started to swim away from the shore, where we confronted them, eager to pet and stroke their heads and play with them for a few moments. Some of us wanted to stroke their bellies, too, and the manatees felt so happy to receive some attention. Squiddly joined in on the lovefest, too, even though his job was to film; I got his back, however, recording him nuzzling against a manatee’s cheek.

We spent a few minutes with them before they had to leave, looking to try again someplace else. We waved goodbye to them and began to head back to where we began our dive. It was getting a little late, anyway, and we needed some food in our bellies. We were also a little exhausted from all the diving, as was easily demonstrated thusly:

“Why’m I walking all topsy-turvy?” Breezly asked, wobbling as though he had a few beers.

“Alors! Those sea cows must’ve made us love drunk!” Loopy added.

Only Squiddly and I walked properly, with my fins slung over my shoulder, as we discussed plans together.

“Hey, how come those two are all right?” asked Mildew.

Everyone else still had their full gear on, well after they had been completely out of the water.

“You need a rest!” Squiddly and I called out to them.

We had to rest up for what I figured would be the pinnacle of our vacation: Key Largo and John Pennekamp State Park, and what better place to do so than what Hokey called “The Entertainment Capital of Florida,” Miami. At least it still is, while Jackie Gleason is still taping his variety show, and until Walt Disney’s next big thing opens to the public.

Avoiding all kinds of alcohol—which probably knocked out half the potential restaurant options in this city—we also wanted a place with prices within our means, which knocked out another quarter of the city. After twenty minutes of driving around the city with no place to go, we decided on a small diner where they not only served the usual fare, but also come Cuban delicacies.

The lively conversation soon switched from the wreck and the manatees to Key Largo. Pennekamp State Park had some of the best coral reefs in the nation, along with a diverse section of marine life. I could hear the excitement in their voices. Some of them even wanted to enjoy a second day there, as we did with Wally’s secret spring.

“If I can find a good motel, sure!” I quipped.

Anyway, that’s our Treasure Coast adventure. If you like wrecks that you can enjoy at shallow depths, I strongly recommend the Urca de Lima off Fort Pierce. If relaxation is more your thing, be sure to visit the almost-endless stretch of beaches. Remember, if you’re interested in diving, please receive proper instruction and follow all safety protocols before going in.

While I’m mentioning relaxation, why don’t you relax awhile yourself? Our next episode will be diver’s heaven—Key Largo. Look for us next week at the same time.

#scuba diving #underwater america #hanna barbera #peter potamus #squiddly diddly #hokey wolf #wally gator #mildew wolf #loopy de loop #breezly bruin #magilla gorilla #lippy the lion #hardy har har #florida #submission

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redhoodieone · 5 years ago

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It’s Cold in Here Part 9

A/N: Here we go again! I’m going away for a little vacation with my sister to visit our grandparents, so I won’t be updating for about a week or two, but when I return, I will definitely continue this story so don’t worry! So, I hope you all enjoy this cliffhanger because God knows I enjoyed writing it to tease everyone!

Warnings: Language, smut, fluffiness, and jealousy.

By the time Jason and I reach my apartment, I’m more than just exhausted; I’m mentally weak. Deathstroke’s words plague my ears and mind. No matter how many times I try to think for myself, or listen to Jason, Deathstroke’s voice takes control over me.

I undress in the living room; not even caring if Jason sees or not (which I know he most likely will anyways). Kicking off my boots, I peel off the top of my costume, immediately noticing the wet spots from when Deathstroke got a good few hits at me. Spots of my blood stains my stomach, but I’m lucky enough to not need stitches or anything serious. Slipping into my sweats and t-shirt, I throw myself on the couch and begin to wonder how to take Deathstroke down.

Do I kill Deathstroke and not tell Bruce? Yeah right, Bruce and Tim could find out and point it all back to me since they’re fucking detectives.

Do I ‘accidentally’ kill him? No, it’ll some how come back to me. I remember Bruce’s golden rule: Justice, not vengeance. At least Damian would agree with me on this one.

Should I ask someone else for help? Maybe…Roy Harper? He would totally be down for a big ass kicking if anything!

Lying completely on my side, I notice Jason sits beside me and removes his helmet. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. He sets his helmet on the coffee table; I can smell his cologne and gun powder from his jacket.

“No. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again,” I truthfully answer.

“That’s not true. We just need to...probably ask Tim and Damian for help. They might know what we should do about this since Deathstroke won’t fucking quit.”

Jason lifts my legs up and sets them on his lap. One of his hands reaches for mine to hold, as his other hand rubs up and down my leg; in a comforting matter or flirting matter, I can’t tell right now. He exhales shakily and pushes his hand into my sweatpants to feel my smooth leg.

I glance up at him as he just smirks at me; he’s probably thinking I can easily be seduced.

“Are you…trying to hit on me?” I ask slowly.

“Maybe,” Jason replies anxiously. I’ve never seen the cocky, overly confident, and egotistical man show fear before. His blue eyes focus on me, and for a brief second, he licks his bottom lip. “I-I just need to stay busy. I-I shouldn’t be thinking too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I…had to stop myself back there…from killing him. The way he tried to hurt you, hurt my brother, I wanted to fucking kill him, Y/N. All I wanted to do is break his fucking spine…rip apart his fucking face…and step all over his hands and body for even thinking he can fucking hurt you and my family. The thing is, I know I have changed for the better, but there’s something still in me that screams kill, whenever someone I love is hurt or in danger,” Jason confesses. His voice breaks, and it saddens me to see how Jason is still affected from his past. His fingers rub circles on my leg, and the warmth and comfort he’s giving me is distracting me as well. “All I want is to forget that feeling right now. I just want to fucking forget tonight because I was sure I was going to kill him, and I fucking know I wouldn’t come back from all of that. I wouldn’t be who I am. I would be that man Bruce has helped me bury. I can’t allow that to happen, especially now that you’re around me more.”

I’m speechless. My chest is pounding from my wild emotions; which could be my heart beating fast because of Jason’s feelings, or I might be having a real heart attack from the stress and everything else around me.

Jason sits up to kneel in front of me, and he closes the distance between us as he kisses me. His lips are slightly chapped, but the warmth and emotion from him makes me fall into a peaceful state where nothing is bothering me, and everything just stops for a moment. I kiss him back with as much affection, and the moment the kiss deepens, my cell phone rings; alerting both of us. I reach across to the coffee table to get it and I see it’s Artemis.

“Hello?” I answer breathlessly.

“Y/N! Why the hell haven’t you called me or text me or something?! I’ve been dying to talk to you! Listen, I need to know what happened that night when you were drinking. Did anything happen that I should know about? And I need to know what you’re doing right now!” Artemis flips out.

“Hey, you haven’t exactly tried to reach me either. Is everything okay?” I ask, hoping to calm her down a bit.

“Yeah, I mean...Conner and I are together now...” Artemis says, happily sighing into the phone. I can hear Conner say something near her, and she giggles at him. “But I didn’t call to talk about that since we can discuss more about Conner and how you and Dick are going to be so cute at Bruce’s gala tomorrow night.”

I freeze. “Bruce’s gala?” I repeat.

“Yeah, we all got our invites. Didn’t you get one?”

Jason sits up and begins to pull down my sweatpants. On his knees, he pulls them completely off despite my warning glare. He settles in between my legs and starts kissing down my chest and all the way down my stomach. The second his hot lips kiss down my thighs, I whine.

“What was that noise?” Artemis asks.

“Uh-nothing! I haven’t checked my mail yet,” I breathe heavily. My hand holds my phone tightly, as the other hand runs through Jason’s hair. “You and Conner are going together?”

“Of course! So is Tim and Zatanna! That means you and Dick are going together right?” Artemis asks.

“I-uh...I think so,” I struggle to speak. Jason kisses my thigh once more, before he dips his head down to my pussy and licks up my slit to my clit. His tongue circles my clit, and then he takes me by surprise when he lightly sucks on it. He looks up at me and smirks at how easily I can come undone by his power of oral sex.

Biting my lip, I try to remain calm because Jason is close to getting where I need him. But Artemis sighs sadly. Now that doesn’t sound good.

“Y/N...I need to tell you something. I-I promised I wouldn’t say anything, but I think I need to tell you because you deserve to know.”

I immediately push Jason off me; knocking him off the couch. Mouthing “sorry”, I slip back on my panties and sweatpants. “What’s wrong? Is it about you?” I ask cautiously.

“Kind of. Remember when I told you Wally and I broke up because it just wasn’t working out? There was a real reason why we broke up after he came back from the Speed-Force. It was because he was sleeping around with Dick,” Artemis reveals.

I can feel my throat tighten. Of course, I already knew about Dick and Wally’s involvement, but I didn’t think their history went that far back. I exhale, and I almost want to tell her what’s been going on lately.

“What?” I ask, figuring that’s the appropriate response right now.

“Wally’s gay. He...was confused for a long time and I knew we couldn’t keep dating because I knew he wanted Dick more, and that he shouldn’t change or hide who he really is. The thing is, you’re my best friend and I just need to know if Dick told you the truth. D-Dick is my friend too, and he told me not to tell you about his and Wally’s flings when he first started seeing you. I didn’t want to get involved in your love life and-” Artemis rambles on apologetically.

“Artemis! It’s fine. I…already know about Dick and Wally,” I admit.

“How? And if he told you, why are you still with him? You’re okay with Dick being…bi?”

“I-I don’t really know about our relationship status at the moment. If anything, I think we’re on a time-out,” I say nervously. I pace around and I can’t figure out how to deal with this because my mind is only focused on one thing: Deathstroke. Dick and Wally’s flings don’t bother me as much as before, but I know Artemis is just looking out for me. “But wait, you haven’t told anyone about them? Does anyone know about Wally?”

“I’m the only one who knows about Wally. He’s still…scared to come out, especially since he feels like he’s going to disappoint Barry. But no, as far as I know, we’re the only ones who know the truth,” Artemis discloses.

Besides Jason, Tim, Damian, and Alfred, I think to myself.

“But look Y/N, I don’t hate Wally after what happened between us. I don’t think I can even hate him. We…had a good run, and I still love him and consider him one of my best friends. It’s just that…sometimes it’s hard to accept the truth, especially when it’s coming from someone you love. And I know you love Dick, so I hope you’re not blaming yourself or planning to kill yourself anytime soon,” Artemis continues before she sighs once more. I fear what she’s going to ask me now. “Do you hate him? Do you hate Dick?”

The question catches me off guard. After everything that has happened, I realize I mostly went through the stages of betrayal, anger, and sadness. But as of right now, the only thing I feel is determination and pity for Deathstroke when I finish him off.

“I…don’t hate Dick,” I confess. It’s the one confession I feel like I can easily admit. I’m not hiding anything. I’m not hurting Dick or myself. It’s just the plain, honest, truth, and it actually feels good to get it out. “I can’t hate him. I don’t think I can ever hate him. But listen Artemis, I really want to tell you how I found out and what’s going on, but I can’t right now. Some shit is going on, and I need to focus on that.”

I finally move out of the living room, while Jason follows me. Turning on the kitchen light, I head to get a water bottle, but a yellow and red costume catches my attention on my balcony.

“I’m going to have to call you back,” I say quickly and hang up, despite Artemis trying to keep me talking.

Kid Flash vibrates through my locked balcony door and enters my home. Jason suddenly appears at my side and pushes me behind him as he aims his gun right at Wally West. He chuckles darkly, and points at me.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” Wally says seriously. He pulls his hood back to reveal his green eyes and freckled face.

“What do you want?” I ask, realizing I don’t sound friendly at all.

“I’m only going to say this once. For the past few months, I’ve had to lie about who I am. I constantly have to pretend I’m straight, and that I like girls. But you know the truth now, so you can imagine how fucking awful and annoying it is to put on a mask and be the person everyone wants to see, right?” Wally asks, with hints of sarcasm.

“What does this have to do with her?” Jason demands. He slowly lowers the gun down.

“I want you to officially end things with Dick. I don’t give a shit what he told you. You’re not in love with him anymore. I see it. Dick sees it. Hell, I even saw it at the barbeque, and I’m gay! I know why Dick insists on keeping you around, but why the hell are you even still with him? Are you that desperate for a guy?” Wally questions me. He’s clearly annoyed.

“What do you know about my feelings, Wally?! You’re not me! You don’t know what happened in our relationship and you don’t know what it was like!” I snap.

“I know for a fact that he was miserable with you! The fact that he kept coming back to me late night says something doesn’t it?!” Wally yells. He laughs when he notices I frown. “Yeah, when you would fall asleep with him, he’d leave you to come to my place. It was clear as day that he couldn’t be with you anymore.”

“Watch it, West,” Jason threatens.

“If he was that miserable with me, then he should have broken up with me in the beginning. But don’t you dare take your jealousy and pain out on me, Wally. I have absolutely nothing to do with yours and Dick’s relationship. Whatever is going on between you two, it’s clearly between you two. And as for ‘our relationship’, you know for a fact that he’s the one who still wants to be with me; I don’t want to stay with him. I still love him, and I’ll probably always love him, but I’m not in love with him. I will never fall or be in love with him ever again. But until Dick figures out how to come out to his family and friends, I’m not going to break up with him or out him. Not now, not ever. But if you have a problem with me, come at me then,” I say seriously. I step forward from Jason, and I hold out my hands. I smirk, and chuckle at the way Wally’s face falls. “I already have to deal with an asshole who’s threatening me and Dick. But if I have to, I’ll fucking fight you too, because I’m not going anywhere until Dick deals with his issues.”

Wally exhales heavily. His eyes stay on the floor, as he runs a hand through his red hair. I can tell he’s on the verge of crying, except I’m not even sure why. After a few minutes, he finally raises his head up and his eyes are red and puffy.

“He’s…he’s just hurting me a lot, Y/N. He doesn’t care that he’s toying you around and just using me because he’s so fucking stubborn to realize the damage he’s doing! He REFUSES to admit he’s bisexual, and that he wants to be with me! He’s playing a fucked-up game right now, and we’re just pawns until he gets what he wants! I’m not fucking stupid. I know he still loves you, and he wants it to work out between you two, but I know it’s not fair for me, or even you. But Dick’s going to do whatever he wants because…” Wally chokes up, and steps closer to me until he’s hugging me; which frightens me a bit. “He’s going to do something tomorrow night…he’s just going to keep hurting us, Y/N.”

I freeze into his arms. Jason raises an eyebrow and watches us closely. “What do you mean, Wally?” I ask quietly. Maybe I don’t want to know…

“Tim told me that Dick’s going to propose to you tomorrow at the gala. He has a ring. He has something planned. And he’s going to want you to say yes,” Wally admits.

My eyes widen. Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse…

It does.

#dc comics #batman #dick grayson #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut

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thebrotherscupheadandmugman · 5 years ago

Text

Aviary Action! With Wally Warbles!

Before you read: This is a rewriting of the main game Cuphead. Characters, certain dialogue, music, and locations obviously do not belong to me. This is best read with the OST playing over it.

Before you start reading, I now have a Patreon you can donate to as well if you should want to support where I wish to take this project! Patrons have unique opportunities to help bring this story to life, so please check it out or become a patron if you feel so inclined! Too young or unable to give financial support? That’s perfectly fine! You can also support this project, and my future ones by reblogging these episodes for free! Oh, and here’s a link to all published episodes. Enjoy!

The brothers flew around, over the mountain and trees in their Aeroplanes, looking for the next debtor. “You sure he's gonna be up here?” Cuphead asked, looking over to his older brother. “That's what Floyd said.” Mugman quickly glanced down at his watch, then back at the skyline. “Just keep your eyes peeled.” “What are we even looking for?!” “Floyd didn't say.” “Swell,” Cuphead grumbled sarcastically.

Suddenly, a loud cuckoo clock chime echoed across the park, causing both the boys to jump and the milk in their heads to spill just a bit. Cuphead and Mugman looked around to find the source, before Cuphead finally pointed to the center of the second isle. A large, red birdhouse with blue wings circled about, above the balloon tree to gather the patrons' attention as it rang. Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! “Think that's the guy?” Cuphead asked.

“Well, they're the only other one up here.” Once the clock was finished announcing the time, it started to fly back towards the side of the mountain, where a few bird nests and a large wooden perch were. “Got the scroll, Mug?” Mugman dug into his pocket and pulled out the list of debtors. The sooner the birdhouse saw it and realized they weren't messing around, the sooner they could get this over with.

As the birdhouse flew back to its perch, it quickly caught sight of our heroes before it could land on it. The door of the clock flew open, and a wooden bird on its own, smaller perch was pushed out. The bird then flew out and landed on the blue Aeroplane, right between the pilot and the propeller. “This here's a restricted area. You two lookin' fer trouble?” “Not...intentionally.” “Hey, I will have you know that we are like a magnet for trouble!” “Cuphead, that's not something to be proud of!” “Keep it down!” The wooden bird snapped before flying atop Mugman's nose in order to look down and read the paper he had. “Statechure business!” “We're here with the Devil's office.” Mugman started, a guilty look plastered to his face. “We've, uh, come for Wally Warbles' Soul Contract.” The wooden bird's eyes suddenly widened, and it flew back into the door of the cuckoo clock, pulling the perch back in and shutting the door behind it.

Not long after that, the door sprang back open. “Cuckoo! No!” The door shut once more, only to spring back open moments later. “Cuckoo! No!” Once again the door shut, only to reopen. “Cuckoo! I don't want to!” The door closed, then opened once more. “Cuckoo! No!!” As the door slammed shut one last time, the orange pendulum stopped swinging, and something stretched out from the face of the clock. The pendulum separated into two legs of a bird, and an orange beak tore out from the clock, freeing the head of a red and blue feathered bird. “Bacaaaaaaaawwww!!” He screeched, glaring at the two, young pilots. “If yer thinkin' I'm goin' down quietly, y'got another thing comin'!!” “Open fire, Mugs!” The brothers promptly began shooting at Wally, although their bullets didn't seem to be doing much.

Something seemed to travel up Wally's throat and after a short while, he closed his eyes and spat out a white egg with blue, green, and red spots. “Hueaeaeahhh!” “Ahh!” The brothers both screamed and scrambled to dodge. “What's th'matter? Don't like my scrambled shots? Hueaeaeahhh!” Wally spat out another egg, “hueaeaeahhh!” Then another. “Cuphead, break!!” Mugman cautioned, maneuvering his Aeroplane out of harm's way. “Why is it every time we get in these planes you want me to break?! I said I was sorry!” The three eggs smashed against the edge of the screen behind the brothers, breaking off into three shells each. “Cuphead, six-o-clock!!” “Ya can't fool me, Mugs! He just chimed for three-ow!!” One of the eggshells hit Cuphead's undercarriage as he spoke, leaving a white cross-shaped mark on the aircraft. “Well, ya can certainly tell which one a ya's th'smart one.” Wally taunted. The cuckoo figured that if the red bogey didn't know aviation terminology, that'd certainly make this easier for him. “Hey!!” Before Cuphead could say anything else, Wally's head morphed to form a giant, white-gloved hand with the thumb pressed over the pinky finger, and the other three fingers pointed at Cuphead and Mugman. “What?” “Get ready to br- dodge!” With the flick of the neck-wrist, the hand fired out three large bullets, one from each finger, and the brothers just barely managed to squeeze through the space between the shots. “Gosh, talk about trigger fingers.” “Nail Birds! Engage blue and red bogeys! Send 'em back to th'taxpayers!”

Four small birds with nails taped to their backs flew onto the scene and headed straight for Cuphead. “Ack! Incoming birdies!” “Focus on Wally! I'll cover you!” Mugman flew in front of Cuphead and began firing at the yellow and pink birds. Upon being hit, each little bird made a squeaky cheep and exploded in a puff of smoke and feathers. “Aauugh, why'd they have to make such a cute noise?! Now I feel bad!” “Ya didn't feel bad before?” Asked Cuphead. “Well, I feel even worse now!!” “Hueaeaeahhh!” Wally spat up another egg towards Cuphead, forcing the child to fly downwards to avoid getting hit. “Engage padlocked bogeys!” Wally commanded once more, four more birds flying towards Mugman. “Mugs, our fire ain't doin' anything!” “Get up close, use your new weapon!” Mug strategized, “I'll give you cover fire, you just watch out for his breakfast!” “Get close, don't get puked on. Got it.” Cuphead gave Mugman a thumbs up, then flew in closer to the feathered debtor. Mugman shifted his focus back onto the incoming birds. “Alright, time to hit the nail on the head!”

With Mugman's cover fire, Cuphead was able to inch in closer to Wally's head, soaring over and under any eggs the cuckoo clock spat out, up until the boy managed to hide right over the top of Wally's head, just outside his field of view. “No joy! I've lost visual, Red Casablanca!” Cuphead switched his weapon, and dropped a mini-bomb right over Wally's noggin. “Yeowch!!”

Inside the birdhouse, a small figure stirred. “Shh, go back to sleep, little one.” The voice of the wooden bird tried. “There's nothing to--” A muffled explosion from outside caused the whole house to tilt and shift, startling the small figure.

Cuphead dropped yet another mini-bomb, hitting Wally right on the beak with it, which caused a few of his teeth to fly out. Then Cuphead dropped another mini-bomb right onto his neck, earning a loud yelp of pain from Wally. “Son of a-” Wally's head morphed into a red factory steam whistle as he cursed. “Twooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!” Out of frustration, Wally began to gobble and flail his wings about, launching out the blue feathers from his body. “Wuh-oh!!” Cuphead saw the incoming feathery bullets and pulled back, trying to fly through the small openings he could find, all while keeping his fire locked onto Wally. However, it didn't take long for Cuphead to become overwhelmed, and a feather scraped against his left wing, causing the Aeroplane to tilt down further than he intended, which resulted in another feather scraping his undercarriage. That was what pushed him up in such a way that allowed for two more feathers to hit his wings, which ultimately pushed him back to the edge of the screen, smashing the young cup between the aircraft and the bordering. “Yeesh. Guess we really ruffled his feathers, huh?” Mugman commented. “Oww!” Cuphead whined as his blue spirit began to drift up towards the clouds. “Hey! Don't you dare leave me here to fight this guy on my own!!” Mugman cried, pulling his straw out from his head. A hand formed at the end of the blue straw to grab Cuphead's pink heart, and Mugman yanked his brother's ghost back down into his body. “'M okay...” The child mumbled woozily. “Shake it off, bro. Just keep a consistent fire, but focus on dodging, don't worry about landing your shots. Okay?” “Yeah?” Cuphead answered after he shook his head rapidly to regain his focus.

It wasn't easy, but the brothers managed to dodge Wally's feathers up until he suddenly stopped to breathe. The bird panted as he caught his breath, and Mugman saw an opening. He released the built-up magical energy from his body, and morphed into a smiling Super Bomb that sailed right for Wally. “Oh nooo!” Wally took in one last deep breath and began flailing about again, launching feathers everywhere. Without so much as an animation for it, the Super Bomb's smile turned into a panicked, anxious frown, Mugman did his best to navigate through the barrage of feather bullets, but he was hit just inches away from Wally, detonating before he intended to. “Son of a gu-- ow!!” A feather grazed Mugman's right shoulder, cuing the preteen to pull back towards his brother. “Well, that didn't go as planned.” “Ya probably....still...” Cuphead trailed off, focusing on dodging whatever was coming his way. Although, Mugman still got the message his brother was trying to get across and started firing again. Cuphead was right. With an explosion that large, Wally still probably got hurt from that.

Once again, Wally found himself needing to stop to take a breather. “Dad? What's goin' on?” A young, sleepy voice asked. Before Wally could answer, Mugman managed to fill enough of his Super Meter to attack with an Ex Move. “Now, Cuphead!” Both the brothers pulled themselves into an aileron roll and fired off one Chomper Missile each, right at Wally. Both the Chomper Missiles smacked Wally square in the chest, causing an explosion of blue and red feathers. The now bald bird gasped in pain before falling out of the birdhouse limply. “Dad, no!!” “Wait, did you hear that?” Mugman asked.

After a few moments, the house fell apart, and a small chick in a nest with four, flapping, wing-like leaves attached to the bottom flew out. “He has a son?!” Mugman shouted. The chick glared at the older cups. “You came fer my dad, huh?! Well, you can't take 'im! He's mine!!” “Calm down, kid! We ain't here ta fightchya!” “R-right! We don't want to hurt you, alright? We just need Wally Warbles.” “Well guess what? My name's Wally Warbles Jr.! So if ya wanna take Dad away, ya gotta go trew me!!” “More like Weirdo Warbles,” Cuphead mumbled to his brother. Junior tried to whistle, but he couldn't do it, so he just shrieked instead. “Ommulon Orbiters! Activate!” Suddenly, five spiked eggs circled out from behind his back, surrounding the chick defensively. “Do yer worst!!” “Look, kid, we don't wanna hurt ya! Now scram before-” “Ya misunderstand. My dad's the brawn and I'm all brains! Together, we bring the pain. Hee hee hee hee!” Junior cackled. “Are you serious?! We have to fight a little kid?!” “He ain't givin' us much of a choice, Mugsy.”

Junior flew towards Mugman and watched in amusement as his invention expanded in a perfect, circular formation, which would surely corner those ugly mugs! “Cuphead, watch out!!” Cuphead flew over one of the eggs, finding himself between it and Wally Jr. Although it might have been a perfect opportunity to strike Cuphead, Junior had already cornered Mugman between the bottom left corner of the screen, and one of the spiked eggs. The young chick grinned maniacally and watched as his attack continued to expand outwards towards the blue Aeroplane. “Oh no!!” Mugman had literally backed himself into a corner, with little to no room to escape. “Mugman!!” The mug tensed up, bracing for impact when he suddenly felt himself shrink down. Suddenly, there was a small opening for Mugs to fly through, and the teeny pilot was quick to squeeze through the gap between an egg and the bottom of the screen. “Curses!!” Junior scowled. However, now that Mugman's form was smaller, he happened to be more aerodynamic and moved much faster than he expected, so he crashed into a second egg before him. Mugman gasped in pain from the force of the impact and in a puff of smoke, the child grew back to normal size, just as the eggs started contracting towards the ceramic duo. “Ahh! Not good!” “I'll show ya fer hurtin' my brother like that!!” As Mugman scrambled to dodge, Cuphead began firing, not realizing the spiked eggs were drawing ever-closer to his plane. “Ouch! Stop dat! Meanies!!” Junior whined. “Cuphead, get outta there!!” “Huh?!” The cup looked back towards Mugman and finally noticed the eggs slowly surrounding him. “How do ya shrink?!” “I-I dunno, just move!!” Cuphead pulled his Aeroplane into a nose-dive as he spun into a sort of corkscrew, just narrowly avoiding a crushing disaster. “Whew!” Cuphead pulled up beside his brother, and firmly pressed the button down on the plane's stick, firing at the fledgling. “Mug, just shoot!!” “R-right!” Mugman followed suit, trying to quickly come up with some sort of plan to take this little fella down without actually hurting him.

“I betchyoo two think yer so smart, eh? Well, guess what? I'm smartah!” Junior pulled out some sort of raygun from inside his small nest and wasted no time in taking his aim and firing with a small giggle. Cuphead was quick to react and flew up and over Junior's shield of spiky eggs, finding himself past the chick. “Ah!!” Mugman did his best to dodge as Cuphead had, but when pulling up, he'd accidentally tilted his right wing up first, rather than pulling the whole plane up at once, and a pink electrical bullet severely damaged the lower wing, bending and tearing the metal in the sky. “No no no no!!” “Gotchya right where I wantchya!” Junior drew closer to Mugman, expanding the eggs out to try and hit him while he was weak. “Mugman, no!!” Cuphead quickly sped around and angled himself between Junior and his older brother, shooting the chick relentlessly to try and protect Mugman. “Ow! Stop it! Ouch!!” Junior whined, the bullets pushing him back just a little with each hit. Mugman grabbed some tape and stood up in his cockpit, after straightening out his aircraft. “Keep him busy! I'll make some repairs!” “Got it!!” Cuphead nodded. “Hey, bird brain!! Where'djya get that toy?! The dump?!” “Yes! And I'll have you know that I made it from broken radio parts and a toaster!! And a buncha other smart thingies an imbecile like you would never understand!!” “Hah! Joke's on you! I don't even know what that means!” “My point exactly!!”

Mugman tied some rope around his waist for safety and then wrapped some tape around his straw and the control stick, leaving quite a bit of room for leeway. He slowly and carefully inched out across the wing of his Aeroplane, until he was close enough to the damaged area. Mugman got on his knees and pushed the bent metal down back to its original place. He taped the two pieces together and pressed the line of tape across the damaged crack before letting go of the roll, watching it fly across the rest of the wing. The tape swung down across the underside of the wing, until Mugman caught it in his left hand, then raveled several more layers of tape across his wing by repeating this process. “Mugman, incoming!!” Cuphead's voice warned, just as Mug tore off the tape from the roll, Mugman looked up to see yet another pink bullet soaring right towards him. Mugman quickly dropped the tape roll and held on to the wing as tight as he possibly could as he pulled his straw out from his head, and yanked. The tension he created in the line was enough to pull his plane to the right, and just out of harm's way.

As his Aeroplane stabilized, Mugman heaved a sigh of relief before quickly crawling back to the cockpit, and removing the tape from his straw and steering. “Thanks, Cup!” “No, no, no!! This isn't fair!!” The child threw a temper-tantrum and pulled out his raygun once again, but before he could fire it, Mugman skillfully shot the pistol right out of the chick's hand, causing him to drop it out of the sky, and breaking the invention upon impact to the ground. “My invention!!” Cuphead began to relentlessly shoot at Junior once more, until the youngster threw down his arms and began wailing, creating raindrops of tears. “Waaaaaaaaaaaaahh!! Waaaaaaaahh! Daaaddyyy, these kids are meeeaaaann!!”

The boys looked at each other. “What good's zat gonna do 'im?” Cuphead asked. “We already knocked Wally out.” Mugman glanced at the ground below. “Now we just gotta find him and get his contract.” Cuphead then noticed something, and his eyes widened in surprise as three drops of milk splashed from his head. “Uh, Mug?!” Mugman looked back in front of them, only to catch sight of Wally on a stretcher being carried up by two, blue, medic birds. Wally was bald, his wounds had been wrapped up in white gauze, he had two black eyes, one of which was swollen shut completely, and he was noticeably missing a tooth. “Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwhaaat?!” Mugman yelped in surprise. “Mister, stop! Yer gonna hurt yerself even more!!” “After ya made m'son cry?! No way!!” Wally growled. “I've worked hard t'keep m'family in tact after th'mistakes I've made! I won't let ya dirty dishes take it all away from me! I won't letchya take it all away from Junior!” “L-look, Mr. Warbles! W-we're sorry, b-but we have no choice!” “Please, just give us yer contract! It ain't like ya got any feathers left ta lose!” The brothers pleaded. “Even without my feathers, you're in for stormy weather!” The feather father, or rather the featherless father, growled, then looked to the only medic he could. “Lefty! Righty! Engage!” Wally hissed out a groan of pain under his breath, and the medic bird at Wally's feet regurgitated a blue and yellow pill capsule into the air. “Does the fighting ever end?!” Mugman brought his plane up to get a better angle to hit Wally with, but just before he could start firing again, the capsule broke apart, and the yellow cap suddenly shot right towards Mug. “Woah!!” Mugman barely managed to pull his Aeroplane down just a tad to gain enough speed in time to dodge the pill. Before the older mug could get the chance to heave a sigh of relief however, Wally suddenly kicked his legs into his own chest. “Pihoo!!” Wally's beak forced itself open as his pupils turned into black X-es and something traveled from his chest, and up his throat. A large red heart pushed its way past Wally's tongue, and out his beak, grinning slyly at the dish pilots as it rose to the air. Cuphead didn't at all hesitate to take his aim at the heart, and start firing. “Mugman, snap outta it!!” Mug shook his head at that. “Right!” Mugman started to fire at Wally, but it didn't seem to be doing anything at all! The red heart suddenly spat out three black bullets at Cuphead and Mugman, then slowly floated back down into Wally's mouth, where Wally immediately swallowed his organ. Mugman was forced to pull his plane back to avoid one of the bullets, as he watched Cuphead steer his red Aeroplane between two of the shots. “Righty! I said engage! Now!!” The blue bird by Wally's head spat out a pill, just as his partner had, and once again, the capsule broke apart and soared towards Cuphead, who pulled into a large barrel roll to dodge. Mugman suddenly got an idea. If one of those medics go down, they'd drop Wally too! Mugman sped his aircraft above Wally's head and switched his weapon. “Here! Have a taste of your own medicine!” Mugman tried to drop a mini-bomb onto Righty, but he had just barely missed, and the bomb dropped to the left of him. Mugman found himself flooded with relief, as he had realized a fall from this height would potentially kill Wally. “Ya think you little cheap chinaware children can just come inta my sky and beat up my boy?! You two got another thin' comin', you puny, tiny, pale little--” Wally's head suddenly morphed into a trashcan as he spoke, sending a pink boot flying towards Mugman. “Ah!!” Mug quickly pulled back, just as the boot soared high in the sky, and Wally spat out rotting fish-bones that rocketed just as high. As gravity pulled the boot down, it just so happened to land onto Mugman's propeller, spinning around and around until it launched into the air for a second time, right as Wally spat out a black boot, and an apple core. Mugman was forced to pull back into a Split S maneuver, twisting and looping his aircraft behind Cuphead to avoid getting hit. As high as the garbage was launched, it seemed to fall just short of hitting the brothers. “You stink!!” Cuphead taunted. “That's the garbage, Cuphead.” Mugman informed, pinching his nose at the smell. “Move closer!!” Wally commanded, and the medics flew his stretcher closer to Cuphead and Mugman. Cuphead switched over to the mini-bombs and began dropping as many as he could onto Wally. The father began to spit out more trash again as he edged closer to the two. Mugman soon realized that he'd collide into Lefty if he didn't move, so he let his plane drop down, only to realize what a mistake that was.

As Mugman tried to move his Aeroplane back to get above Wally, he tapped the edge of the screen, leaving him trapped in the bottom corner. “Huh?! What?! Wait! Th-this isn't fair, I can't move! There's nowhere to go, the projector screen ends!!” The trash quickly began its descent, right towards Mugman. “Just keep shooting at him!” “I literally can't! There's nowhere for me to shoot!” “Shoot his butt!” Mugman sighed but switched his weapon. “Classy. Ah!!” Mugman moved his plane horizontally, one way, then the other, trying to dodge the rainfall of boots, apple cores, and fish-bones, but once there was a break in the garbage, he began firing once again. “Back away from my brother!” Cuphead threatened, dropping more and more bombs onto Wally. “I'd rather have a heart attack and die!!” Cuphead noticed how Wally shifted his legs and zoomed over to his beak just as he kicked his chest once more. Just as his heart was about to ascend from his mouth, Cuphead dropped one last mini-bomb that conked the heart right on the top, stretching the two curves apart and causing it to fall back down into Wally's mouth, just as the bomb detonated.

Wally's head fell limply to the side as his eyes rolled around and around dizzily, moaning just a bit as his whole world rotated ceaselessly. Lefty and Righty grinned and licked their beaks as they ripped off their medic hats, revealing chef hats underneath. They each grabbed the stretcher with their feet and pulled out a salt and pepper shaker, seasoning Wally. “Finally, we got him!” Lefty smirked, licking his beak again. “Huh?!” “We've been after this juicy slice of poultry for years! He'll sell for a fortune once we prepare him!” Righty explained. “Couldn't have done it without ya kiddos!” “Here!” Righty reached into Wally's beak and pulled out his Soul Contract, before wadding it up into a paper ball, and throwing it at Cuphead, hitting him right in the face. “Ack!” “That's what you were after, right?” Cuphead unraveled the wad and checked over the contract to see if it had been forged or not. “Mm-hmm?” He nodded upon confirming the legitimacy. “Take it. Consider it as thanks fer helpin' us find the dinner of the century!” Lefty thanked. “Let's go, we should prepare the oven!” The two birds quickly flew away, landing near the rainbow bridge, freeing Mugman. “They're gonna cook him?!” Mugman gasped in fear. “I think?!” “Wait, stop!!” Mugman rushed to the ground below and frantically landed his Aeroplane, Cuphead following suit.

The brothers chased after the two birds as they attempted to drag the large bird away somewhere. “Stop, don't! What are you doing?!” Mugman cried. “He has a son he's gotta look after!” “What's any of that matter to you?” Lefty asked, tilting his head. “Yeah, ya got his Soul Contract already. What difference does it make if he lives or dies now?” “Yeah!” “And just what do you mean by that?!” Mugman inquired, equal parts worried and insulted. “Yer workin' with the Devil's Office, right?” Righty asked. “Well once you give the Devil his contract, he's as good as dead. His soul will be dragged down to Hell regardless. What difference does it make if he's already dead when that happens?” “Yeah! He's already as good as dead! What's it matter if he dies now or later? At least this way someone will get some sort of benefit from 'im!” “That doesn't matter!!” Mugman shook his head. “All life is precious! It should be protected!” “He's already lived a good life kid.” “So?! All life is precious nonetheless! Age and race doesn't matter!!” “Look, fink!” Righty snapped, “the guy sold his soul to the Devil himself! And that's just what we know about! Who knows what other crimes were committed before any of that! He may be a good father, but that don't mean he was a good person! He sealed his fate ages ago!” “That! Doesn't! Matter!!” Mugman spat back. “All life is precious!” “Just because he made some bad decisions, or maybe did some bad things, doesn't mean he deserves to die for them!!” “Yeah!” “How do ya figure?” Righty asked. “Because! How could he ever change for the better if you end his life?! How could he ever become a good person if you never give him that chance?!” “Well, it doesn't matter now, brats!” Lefty yelled. “He's going to die anyway! What's it matter if it's by your hand, or by ours?!” That seemed to make Mugs lose his nerve. “W-we're not...” “Yes, you are! You're the ones giving his Soul Contract to the Devil himself! You are the ones responsible for that much!” “He...He at least deserves to say goodbye to his loved ones!” Cuphead tried. “Too bad for him! We've been after his hide for years, and we ain't going ta let this golden opportunity slip by!” Righty grinned. “Now then, let's go, partner!” Just as the birds began crossing the bridge, a pink boot whistled as it fell from the sky. Mugman was about to chase after the birds, but Cuphead quickly noticed the whistling, and grabbed his brother's right shoulder to stop him. The boot suddenly clocked Righty right in the head, causing the bird to lose balance and stumble off the rainbow bridge, and right into the shallow waters of Sweetheart's Stream with a shocked yelp. “Woah, woah, hold up, don't panic, I'll getchya out!!” Lefty quickly flew off the bridge and above the stream to help his partner.

The brothers didn't hesitate to rush to both sides of the stretcher, and pull Wally back to the tree by the wooden perch, only to be met with a crying Junior. “D-Dad?!” As soon as the chick caught sight of his father, he pushed his tiny legs through the bottom of his nest and ran over. “Y-yer alive, I-I thought they took you!!” “They tried to.” Mugman informed setting the bird down by the tree trunk. “We just got lucky.” “Y-you saved him!” “He looks bad, Mug.” “I know.” Mugman bit his lip, then turned to Junior. “Do you have a telephone?” Junior stared Mugman right in the eyes and pulled a telephone out from his nest. “Tell the operator you need to take him to the hospital, and give them your address. Okay?” Mugman instructed. Junior nodded and picked up the phone. The mug turned to face Cuphead. “We need to go.” “What? Mugs, shouldn't we stay with--” “Under normal circumstances, we would, but right now, we can't afford to.” Cuphead nodded somberly and joined his brother as the two began walking away. “W-wait, where are you going now?!” Mugman turned his head slightly to look back at the fledgling. “We're going to collect the Soul Contract of Grim Matchstick.” Junior's eyes widened at that. “Grim's a debtor?” His attention was suddenly taken by the phone against his ear. “Ah, y-yes, operator?!” Mugman sighed as Junior talked on the phone. He truly felt bad about leaving this kid all by himself when those two were still so close by. The most they could do is provide a distraction of some sort for Junior, to lead them away, but that was about it. As the brothers started to walk away once again, Junior stopped them. “Hey, w-wait.” Cuphead and Mugman turned around. “U-um, I-I know I p-probably shouldn't do this, b-but you saved Dad, s-so...” Junior felt bad for doing this, but he had to do something for them in return, right? “G-Grim is the security dragon.” “D-dragon?!” Mugman jumped at that. “Yeah. You'll find him in the security castle. Butchya gotta cross both the rainbow bridges to get to it, and the sprinklers fer the second one tend to not work right.” “Okay.” Cuphead nodded. “Thanks, pal.” “You stay with your dad until help arrives. Okay?” “Right.” Junior nodded, hugging his dad's neck as the cup kids ran off.

As the brothers ran past the two birds again, it was evident that Lefty had fished Righty out of the stream, and would probably start searching for Wally soon. Mugman continued to run across the rainbow as he suddenly fired at Righty, causing Lefty to drop the soaked bird back into the water with a splash. “Mug, what are ya doin'?” Cuphead whispered, stopping. “Sh. Just follow my lead,” Mugman whispered back. “Hey! Over here, you two twitty birds!” He taunted. “Catch us if ya can, bird brains!” “Pbthphfhpfhphbphfbpbpt!” With that, the boys ran off once again. “Why you little--!!” Lefty quickly fished Righty back out again, set him on the bridge, then began his pursuit of the brothers.

As the two birds flew past the Mausoleum, our heroes hid inside, knowing that they had successfully tricked the two. “Whew.” Mugman breathed. “Think the coast is clear?” Asked Cuphead. “Not sure.” Mugman shook. “Let's wait a few--” Something behind them suddenly collapsed forward, causing Mugman to jump and nearly run out of the building in fear, but Cuphead outstretched his arm to stop him. “Mugman, relax! Somethin' just got knocked over! Besides, if you go out there, they might spot you!” “R-r-right.” Mugman nodded, horribly shaking as he glanced behind himself to try and find out what fell, but since he hadn't known what the area behind them looked like, that wasn't quite possible. “Relax, we're not goin' in any farther than this.” Cuphead tried, holding his brother's arms to try and comfort him. Cuphead looked his brother right in the eyes until something behind Mugman caught his attention. Something that Cuphead really hoped that his brother wouldn't notice. “R-r-right. Y-you're right.” Mugman nodded, oblivious to the large spider behind him. “W-we'll just w-wait a few minutes, th-then we'll be on our way.” Cuphead wasn't at all listening to what his brother was saying, he was too busy watching the spider slowly creep down towards Mugman. He knew he had to calmly lead Mugs away before he noticed since Mugman had always been terrified of spiders. Cuphead gently pulled Mugman closer to him, and away from the wall, hoping his brother wouldn't notice, but unfortunately, Cup's facial expression alone was enough to tip his brother off. “C-Cups? What's wrong?” Mugman started to turn his head. “D-don't look!” Cuphead stopped. “U-uhh, there's nothing there, I swear! Uh, uhhh, I-I'm just messin' with ya! Hah hah hah hah hah!” He laughed nervously. “You're actin' strange. C-cut that out, it's already creepy enough in here!” Cuphead suddenly noticed that the large spider wasn't alone. Another spider, about the size of a small coin, descended from its web above, hovering all too close to Mugman's left shoulder. There was nothing Cuphead could have said to try and hide it without risking Mugman taking a glance, and he knew it. “Okay, fine...Just whatever you do, don't look to yer left.” Cuphead warned, still trying to pull Mugman away as he crept closer to try and knock the spider away. Of course, Mugman began to sweat at his brother's words. “W-w-w-w-why?” His body began to clink as he shook, slowly turning his head to see what his brother was talking about. Cuphead immediately realized it would have been better to keep his mouth shut.

The second Mug saw the arachnid, the child screeched, and scrambled to get away, but as he turned to make his escape, he caught sight of the larger one that had been less than inches away from his head. Mugman let out a shrill shriek in fear and tried to flee out the Mausoleum's entrance, but three more spiders suddenly dropped down to block him in. Mugman skidded to a stop, falling back on his rear end before frantically climbing to his feet and running deeper into the tomb. “Mugs! Mugman, wait!” Cuphead called, but it was no use. Mugman was in a blind panic now.

After fleeing for what felt like hours to Mugman, he eventually stopped to catch his breath, resting a hand on the wall. The boy looked back behind him, only now realizing he'd left Cuphead behind. “C-C-Cuphead?” He called, one of his fingers finding something to move. He looked back only to find he'd accidentally pushed a skull and reeled back in fear. “C-C-C-Cuphead, w-w-w-where are you?!” He really messed up this time. “Help!” A voice called. It wasn't Cuphead's, but the voice sure sounded familiar. It was a woman's voice, and it sounded like the cries had been coming from below the staircase around the corner. Against his better judgment, Mugman cautiously took a step closer towards the sound of the voice, until he suddenly found himself at the bottom of the steps. Light from the stain-glassed windows filtered in over a stone urn set on an altar. “S-someone please, save me!” “M-Ms. Chalice?!” Mugman recognized. “Oh! Goodness, me, Mugman, is that you?! Oh, please help! I've been trapped again, open the urn, quickly!” Mugman nodded, and rushed over, jumping atop the altar to try and pry the urn open before the ghosts came out, but it was too late.

Organs filled the air, and ghosts began to moan and groan. “Ladies and gentlemugs! Get yourselves ready for yet another spooktacular performance from the Specter Syndicate! Boo ha ha ha ha!” Mugman tried to yank the lid off, but it seemed it hadn't planned on budging. Mugman knew there was no way to pull it off before another specter would reach Ms. Chalice. Despite his fear, Mugman lunged forward at a pink ghost with a blue hat, the end of his straw closed up to form a white-gloved hand, and he parried the spook away. Mugman turned around to try and take another crack at opening the urn, but he spotted another spirit from above, going 'woooo' as he glided towards the altar. The mug rushed over and quickly parried that ghost as well, catching sight of yet another hat-wearing specter just below him, and just barely managed to parry-slap him. Mugman soon caught sight of yet another spirit that looked certainly disgruntled and attempted to block his path by spreading out his arms. “N-now just wait a minute! What exactly are you trying to do? W-what will this accomplish?!” The ghost grunted in annoyance, and passed right through Mugman's body. “Ah!” The preteen gasped, turning around and jumping up to parry the spook once again. If this kept up, there was no way Mugman would ever get an opportunity to free Ms. Chalice! “C-Cuphead! W-where are you?! Ah!!” The mug quickly ran up, jumped on top of the altar once more, then jumped across the room as he tried to parry two more spooks, only to miss one. “No, no, no!!” Mugman quickly stood and rushed over to parry the grumpy ghost he missed, heaving a sigh of relief as it disappeared. That was far too close. “Cuphead, i-if you can hear me, p-please hurry!” Mugman quickly tried to parry-slap another specter, but once again, he missed the first time. “I-I need help! I-I need your backup r-right now!” Mugman gasped, rushing to the other end of the room in order to parry another hat-wearing ghost. The boy knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer, but as long as he kept calling for help, Cuphead would eventually find him. “Cuphead! I-if you can hear me, f-follow my voice!!” Mugman heard something behind him, and quickly turned around to find yet another specter reaching out for the stone urn. “No! Stay away from that!!” Mugman lunged at the other, just barely managing to parry the spook away. “Wheeeeee!! Wheeeeeeeeee!! Hee hee hee hee!” The voice of a little girl giggled. Mugman's head followed the spiral patterns the ghost with a bow was making as she danced and twirled about. Mugman jumped at her, but missed the slap, so he waited for his second chance only to miss that as well. As the spook spiraled around and around, and ever-closer to the urn, Mugman grew more and more panicked, especially upon noticing another spirit trying to sneak past him. If he missed her again, she'd reach Ms. Chalice. “Cuphead, please hurry!!” Mugman rushed over to the dancing spook, and successfully managed to parry-slap her, then jumped over to the other ghost and slapped him.

The mug tried to take a moment to catch his breath, but it would seem the Specter Syndicate wouldn't let him have that. Another hat-wearing ghost shimmied down from the top left corner of the room and edged closer to the altar. “Cuphead, please hurry. I can't take much more of this.” Mugs tried to shout, running up to the spirit and slapping him with his straw. Mugman fell to his knees, still somewhat tired from running earlier. Mugman absolutely needed to catch his breath, but he could still hear two other ghosts moving behind him. The child forced himself to get up, and jump over to slap the first one, only to miss the second, and fall to the ground. “No!” Mugman got back to his feet again, but he knew he couldn't make it to the altar in time. Ms. Chalice was a goner! “Hyiat!” From seemingly nowhere, Cuphead parry-slapped the grumpy ghost, just inches away from the stone vase. “Cuphead!” “I'll get this thing open, you keep 'em off me!!” “Got it!” Mugman nodded, feeling more than ready now that his brother was here.

Two more female specters danced and twirled around the room, and while Mugman got the first one, Cuphead was able to parry the other that he missed. Mugman saw another disgruntled-looking spook above him, and jumped up to successfully parry-slap him as well. Meanwhile, Cuphead tugged, yanked, and pulled on the lid, but with very little progress to show for it. Mugman quickly ran across the room to parry another ghost wearing a hat, only to catch two more female specters on opposite sides of the room. “Cuphead, get that one!!” Cuphead looked up to see the two spooks circling around the altar, and just as Mugman slapped one, he parried the other. “Mugs, I've almost got it, just a little more!!” Mugman nodded, then rushed over to the other end of the room to take out another spirit. Cuphead yanked until his grip slipped. Two more ghosts appeared and Mugman jumped, consecutively parrying them both. “Woah, I-I did it!” “Don't celebrate too soon!” Cuphead gave several more harsh tugs on the lid, just as another female spook twirled around the room, and the second she was close enough to Mugman, he parry-slapped her, just as the lid finally came flying off.

“Victory!!” Ms. Chalice cried, floating out from her stone prison as a twinkling spectral orb, before taking her normal form as a ghostly grail. “Not to mention I managed to find it!” “Ms. Chalice, what are you doing in another mausoleum again?” Mugman asked. “Oh, well, ehehehe.” The benevolent soul scratched the back of her metal head nervously, rather embarrassed by her mistake. “I knew if I rooted around here I could find something special for you! But I didn't know I'd get trapped again!” “Ah, we all make mistakes.” Cuphead waved. “Thanks for saving me a second time. Here!” Ms. Chalice flicked two coins at the brothers, both of which appeared to be exactly the same as the first two coins the Legendary Chalice gave them, only slightly more or less eroded than the other, and with an 'II,' which Mugman realized must have been the Roman Numeral two. “Take this magical Super Art and I'll see if I can find you another!” “Golly! Another? What does this one do?” Cuphead asked eagerly. “This one enhances the connection between the body and soul, allowing you to cross the astral plane to become invulnerable for a short time.” “Good golly gosh!!” The brothers breathed. “Invincibility! That's so incredibly useful! It's sure to come in handy!” Mugman beamed. “Thank you, Ms. Chalice!!” “Consider this a token of appreciation for saving me again! And may we meet again.” Ms. Chalice bowed, before fading away.

“Golly, that worked out better than we thought!” Cuphead smiled. “Speaking of, we should probably shake a leg, those birds are probably gone now.” “Oh, right!” Suddenly, a mischievous spook poked his head out from the wall, and pushed three skulls onto the ground, the sound alone enough to force another shriek out from Mugman. “Eek!! L-let's get outta here!!” Mugman cried, latching onto his brother's wrist as he fled out from the door on the right.

Missed the past episodes? Want to check for the next one? Here’s a link to the list of episodes currently published!

#Cuphead and Mugman: Don't Deal with the Devil #Aviary Action #Cuphead #Mugman #Wally Warbles #Wally Warbles Junior #Ms. Chalice #The Legendary Chalice #Legendary Chalice #Mausoleum II #Word on the Wind {Rebloggable Content}#Drabble #Rewriting #Queue the Credits!

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basileafpitch · 6 years ago

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hey so i wrote a something based off of this post from @novaviis. i needed some birdflash to help me cope with the stress of outsiders coming out next week and i couldn’t stop thinking about that post and it made me smile?? so here’s a something.

(i’ve been craving some og yj, so the timing of this fic thing is around s1- ish)

It was a quiet day.

And, with all of the crime throughout the city recently, it came as a surprise for Dick. The last few weeks had been full of the same old shipment busts that seemed to drag on forever. It was always the same for Dick and his team: suit up, stealth mode, follow the truck to the meeting place, take out bad guys, lock up weapons, repeat. All while the League got the big missions in Metropolis, and in space, for crying out loud. Even after talking to Bruce about it, Dick was dismissed back to the cave, to sit and wait for another alert.

But today was different. Right off the bat (ha ha, get it), Batman told the team of young heroes that it would be an uneventful day. Connor and M’gann left to spend a day sightseeing, and Artemis and Zatanna went to “study”. Dick sure wasn’t going to waste an empty Thursday studying or sightseeing (‘is there even anything worth sightseeing in Gotham?’). So he figured he would settle in and read.

Growing up with Bruce Wayne ensured that Dick had an extensive library at hand, yet he had never found the time to read. There were so many choices; there were the classic novels, there was Shakespeare, there was comedy, tragedy, romance, mystery. You pick a category, or an author, and you could most likely find it in the Wayne library. But, of course, of all of the choices, Dick simply chose to read a book about coding. Not too enticing that he would get hooked, yet not boring enough to put him to sleep. Perfect for his single free day.

He settled down on the sofa in the cave’s common room, not wanting to lock himself away in his own room. Plus, there was a kitchenette and refrigerator at hand, in case he decided to go crazy and feed himself at some point in his sum of free hours. Laying his head on a mountain of pillows Dick stretched himself out on the sofa, sinking into its soft cushions with ease. In a quick moment he felt a level of comfort and content that he had not felt in a long time. No missions to deal with, no secret identity to hide, and no bad guys to fight. Just him, his book, and a fuzzy throw blanket shielding him from the particularly chilly temperature of the cave in December.

After an hour or two Dick was well into his book. It was all things that he had read before, of course: beginner’s coding lingo and steps that he had practiced hundreds of times. The only time he moved from his comfortable position on the couch was to readjust his pillows during hour three.

At this point he seemed to be completely dissolved in the book, because he did not notice the entrance of another person into the room. It wasn’t until he heard the refrigerator door close across the room that he peeled his eyes from the pages.

Dick let out a small squeal at the interruption, throwing the book in front of his face as he flailed, sending his blanket tumbling to the floor. He peaked out from the book to find Wally watching him across the room. He was standing at the island countertop nonchalantly, sipping from a straw at a glass of soda. When Dick spotted him Wally offered a sly smile, resulting in the Dick he knew and loved rolling his eyes, per usual.

“I should have known. You’re so fast, you’re the one person that can slip under my radar,” Dick sang, picking the blanket up and tossing it onto his lap. He set his book down on top of it, open with its spine to the sky.

Wally shrugged, pacing the floor toward the boy. “I thought I came in pretty loudly. I think it’s the book that helped me sneak by,” he said. He leaned on the arm of the couch opposite of Dick, dipping his head toward him. He arched an eyebrow. “Whatcha reading, anyways?” Dick lifted the book to Wally, and the boy laughed out loud, a hand straying to his wild red locks. “Of course. Only you would read something that boringly perfect on your day off, Dick.”

Dick blushed at Wally’s saying his name. Every other day he was only referred to as Robin, so it was a surprising and refreshing change of pace. Plus, Dick liked how Wally pronounced every syllable of his name. Clearly, with purpose.

“What is it?” Wally asked, poking at Dick’s foot. “Do you want me to go? I’m sorry I interrupted your reading, I just—”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Dick insisted. “It’s… nothing.” Dick sighed, recovering from his slip up. He shook his head, stuttering for a moment. “What- uh- what are you doing? With your day off, I mean.”

Wally peered around them for a moment. “Bothering you, I guess,” he said with a small chuckle. “The girls invited me to study, but you know me.”

Dick smiled, nodding his head. “I wish I could have witnessed that.”

Wally shook his head. “I was still snorting by the time they had zeta-d out of there!”

Dick and Wally laughed together, but after a minute their chuckles had died out, leaving them in a heavy silence. Dick looked to Wally, watching a small blush rise in his tan, freckled cheeks. Wally clasped his hands together, rubbing them slightly. He looked around them, as if he was trying to find something. And finally, before Dick could drown in the silence, a small gasp escaped the speedster’s lips, and he vaulted to his feet, quickly making his way across the room.

He took something from the countertop. A laptop. He opened it, signing in quickly, and opened a tab that Dick couldn’t see from his seat. In a moment a small smile tugged at Wally’s lips, resulting in one forming on Dick’s as well. That was the thing with Wally: he could never fail to make Dick smile. No matter what mood Dick was in, or where they were, Wally always thought of something.

Wally’s fingers worked at the keys in front of him impossibly fast, so there was no way of knowing what exactly he was doing. After a few more clicks, though, he was finished. He reached for a remote next to him and pressed a few more buttons. It was the remote to the speakers around them.

Wally rolled his shoulders back and looked to the computer screen proudly, then turning to Dick. “I’m sorry, but I was almost put to sleep just by looking at your coding book. Your day off needs a bit of… reamping.”

Dick cocked an eyebrow, but before he could form any words the music began to blast through the speakers. He could feel the thumping of the beats underneath him, and he was glad that they were alone in the cave, because this could probably be heard in any and every room.

Dick threw a hand over his mouth. “Build Me Up Buttercup” blasted around the boys, and there was Wally, standing across from Dick, snapping his fingers and dancing to the silly song. And, as if the scene wasn’t already unreal, Wally soon began to scream the lyrics at Dick, pointing and singing at him. Dick fell back onto the sofa, laughing out loud. He was holding his own stomach, and there were tears pooling in his eyes. He couldn’t handle it. It was crazy. Like, Wally wasn’t just singing the lyrics, but he was actually screaming them. Like he was performing at a heavy metal concert, rather than singing The Foundations on a Thursday afternoon to his best friend. And the dancing. The pointing, dropping to his knees, the dramatic arm and head gestures. Dick was practically on the floor.

In a moment, though, before he could actually fall to the floor, Wally was in front of him, taking his hands into his own. He pulled Dick to his feet and into his arms, and if it wasn’t for middle school P.E. class, Dick wouldn’t have the suave to pull this off. But he had a bit of suave, and in a moment he and Wally were slow dancing to the stupid song, hand in hand, face to face (face to forehead, I should say. Wally still had a few inches on Dick). Wally’s arm fell around Dick’s waist, and with all of the laughing he was doing Dick leaned heavily upon Wally, his forehead pressed against Wally’s chest. Wally was still screaming the lyrics, making Dick laugh harder than he thought possible. Harder than he had in a long, long time.

Baby, baby, try to find, Wally sang.

A little time and I’ll make you mine.

I’ll be home, I’ll be beside the phone

Waiting for youuuuu (Ooooooo, oooooo).

And they belted everything after that, until the song was over. The two boys danced together, giggling and singing and twirling each other around the room like a couple of idiots. And after the song faded and came to an end, the two remained there, holding each other in the middle of the room. Their hysteria calmed down, and all that remained was small smiles and small blushes.

After minutes of humming in the silence, Wally spoke up. Dick was surprised his voice wasn’t raspy from the scream-singing.

“How does that coding book sound now?” Wally said.

Dick sighed, tucking his head into his friend’s shoulder. He could hear his heartbeat.

“Let’s just forget about that,” Dick said, his voice almost a whisper, earning another laugh from his friend.

Wally smiled and wrapped his arms tighter around Dick, pulling him closer to his chest.

“Good day off?” he asked.

“Best day off,” Dick replied.

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my-one-love-is-music · 6 years ago

Text

My Heart Was Yours Before I Knew You (318)

“What the hell, Robin actually tripped?” Artemis asked, disbelief thick in her voice.

“Not just that but how did Wally know the language Robin was speaking,” Kaldur pointed out.

Everyone turned to look at Wally who flushed and shifted in place.

“I just...um...I kind of picked it up?” he said carefully.

Dick cleared his throat and pushed himself to his feet. “Wally can I talk to you?” he asked, voice rising in pitch as he tried to keep himself calm. His earlier frustration and anger was gone in the face of his new revelation.

Wally nodded frantically and stepped forward. “Sure, uh...where to you want to go?”

Dick glanced at the rest of the team who was watching them with interest. “My room? If you don’t mind?”

Wally nodded. And kept nodding. And kept nodding.

Dick let out a breath and turned on his heel, walking quickly down the hall. Wally caught up with him after a second.

“Mind if I?” he asked, stepping in front of him.

“God yes,” Dick said, throwing himself onto Wally’s back.

The team and the hallways disappeared behind them and within the span of a second Dick was reaching over Wally’s shoulder to punch in the code to his room. The door slid open and they stepped inside, Wally finally letting him down to lock the door behind them.

Dick peeled off his mask and tossed it onto his bedside table as he made his way to his bed. He sat cross-legged on top of it and faced Wally who hesitated before sitting down next to him.

“How do you know Romani?” Dick asked, staring at Wally.

“I...my soulmate. He speaks it and I picked up a few things over the years,” Wally admitted.

“Can I...I mean, can we talk to him?” Dick asked. “It’s been so long since I’ve talked to someone else who knows the language and not that you wouldn’t be great to talk to you’re not exactly fluent.”

Wally chuckled and relaxed. “No I can definitely say I’m not. I’m sure I butcher the language anyway since I’ve never heard it spoken.”

“So...can I?” Dick asked, not wanting to push, but desperate to talk to Wally’s soulmate.

Wally nodded and shimmied out of the top of his suit to pull his arm free. He snatched the pen sitting on the bedside table and sighed, thinking how he wanted to put things into words.

Dick looked over his shoulder as he started writing.

Hey Blue, I know this may seem kind of weird

Dick frowned at the familiar nickname. He furrowed his brow when his arm started to warm. He pulled off his glove and pushed his sleeve up, eyes widening at the words appearing on his arm in Wally’s scrawl.

“Um...Wally?” Dick asked.

“Yeah, what is it?” He didn’t stop writing and Dick took a deep breath.

“We’re soulmates.”

Wally jolted, a line of ink sliding across his forearm in shock.

“What?” he asked, eyes finding Dick’s.

Dick held out his hand. Wally zeroed in on the movement, his breath catching in his throat as he read over the words he’d just been writing and the long line of ink that appeared on Dick’s skin.

“We’re soulmates,” Wally breathed, meeting Dick’s eyes again as a wide grin pulled at his lips. “Dude, we’re freaking soulmates!”

Dick giggled. “How did we not figure this out sooner?” he asked.

Wally shook his head. “So, your parents dying?”

“Happened at the circus.”

“Which would also explain the training. And your adoption.”

Dick nodded. “And the bruises, those were because of your dad right?” he asked, all of the missing pieces finally falling into place.

Wally nodded. “Yeah,” he admitted, voice soft.

They were quiet for a moment before Dick huffed and smacked himself on the forehead.

“I’m such an idiot,” he muttered.

“What?” Wally asked, grinning. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it. Especially when you always left notes on your arm about needing food. Of course only speedsters would need to eat that much.”

Wally bit his lip. “I wasn’t much better. Especially when you got those bruises and said you were doing great.”

Dick huffed and shook his head. He met Wally’s gaze, a soft smile pulling at his lips.

“We’re soulmates,” Wally repeated. “My soulmate is my best friend.”

Dick threw his arms around Wally’s shoulders and Wally hugged him just as tightly. He buried his face in Dick’s hair and sighed.

“I’m so glad it’s you,” Dick said.

“Me too,” Wally agreed. “Me too.”

If you enjoy my work, please reblog or consider buying me a ko-fi!

#birdflash #write 365 #molim writes #fic: before I knew you #soulmate au

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bluboothalassophile · 6 years ago

Text

Chicken

Hopes for a Bastard Universe

This is @raven-melanin who has been delightful to talk to, congrats again! And I hope you enjoy the story!

The entire story, to be completely and utterly honest is inspired by @dar-draws‘ art; here and @ihavepinkknees‘ art; here, so I hope you enjoy the inspiration as well as the story! =)

~~~*~*~*~~~

Lounging on the docks Raven relished in finally surviving the wedding and just basking in the sun, in her bikini top and boarding shorts, with Pride & Prejudice in hand. She had survived, crisis after crisis, disaster after disaster. The wedding had been both a delight and disaster, it was a bitch, and yesterday, vows said, and rings exchanged, crisis averted.

Now it was time to unwind for a few days, savor the after bliss of surviving the wedding.

Which included the rock-n-roll play list from Constantine, after texting her moms that she was still breathing. A set of shadows fell over her which had her peering over her aviators at Roy and Garth who grinned menacingly at her.

“No.” she responded.

“We didn’t say anything!” They balked.

“I know those looks, it’s the same looks Stephanie and Cass give me before I end up in a gym or neck deep in some shenanigans or other.

“Come on Rae,” Roy pleaded.

“No!”

“Wally teamed up with Artemis, Dick’s obviously with Kori, Cass and Duke are a team, Damian and Jon are too, Stephanie is with Tim, I’m with Roy, we even got B and Selina in on this, Donna and Karen are a team, we just need Jay in,” Garth smiled.

“In for what?” Raven asked the accursed words as she finally pried herself from her book. Oh, she was going to regret this. But she’d made it her damn mission to get Jason to finally stop being alone.

“The Ultimate Game Of Chicken!” Roy smiled.

“And you didn’t just ask him?” Raven asked looking back at her book with mild interest.

“He said he would if you were in then snorted at the idea,” Roy mused and Raven could feel the lie as he said it.

“Did he now?”

“Yup,” Roy popped his p to annoy her, she glared at him.

“Very well,” she stood, gingerly putting her book on her seat with her glasses before shimmying out of her board shorts and walking in her itty-bitty red bikini to Jason who was napping on the docks in his red swim trunks and a black t-shirt.

She heard Garth and Roy snickering in delight as they ran for the water and she stopped at Jason’s ribs before toeing him hard. The man grunted and peered a bleary eye at her.

“We’re annihilating your family, the friends, and the bride and groom, get up,” she ordered.

“Well if you’re going to sweet talk me like that,” he grumbled.

“Now Jason,” she mused tapping her foot.

“Make me,” he yawned and buried his face in his arms. She flicked she shadows tossing him in the water.

“RAVEN!” he roared.

“Good, I have your attention,” she mused.

“What the fuck!?” he sputtered.

“You want to crush Dick?” she demanded.

“You should have started with that rather than flicking me into the lake,” he said.

“Uh-huh, now how do we play chicken?”

“Well, you’re obviously going to have to get on my shoulders, and we knock the others off their partner’s shoulders,” Jason said walking out of the lake peeling off his black t-shirt.

“Fine, but we’re winning,” she decided as Jason came at her. Raven walked away from him, only for him to grab her waist and toss her over his shoulder.

“Pay back is a bitch,” he mused devously.

“Don’t you dare!” she screeched.

There was a splash and she was gasping as she clawed against the icy waters, it was freezing! Gasping for air she was suddenly sitting on shoulders.

The other pairs gathered. Roy was sitting on Garth’s shoulders, Dick was on Kori’s, Karen on Donna’s, Damian on Jon’s, Stephanie on Tim’s and Selina on B’s, Cass on Duke’s. Raven wove her fingers into Jason’s hair as Wally appeared with a disgruntled looking Artemis on his shoulders.

“Kay, the rules are simple, you get knocked off you’re out, only stay where we can stand, if you can’t touch the bottom then you’re out, and last team standing gets a week’s vacation wherever they want!” Roy grinned.

“Oh, we’re so going to win this!” Artemis grinned then as she cracked her knuckles. The blonde looked intimidating on Wally’s shoulder’s now as she smiled with malicious intent.

“Go!” Dick shouted. Damian came right for her, and Raven shoved his head back when he was near enough, he and Jon toppled into the water, Jon laughed, Damian looked disgruntled. There was a squeal with a loud splash as Stephanie toppled under Cass’ assault. Artemis however was quick to shove and off balanced Cass into the water with Duke.

“Git Dick!” Jason ordered. Dick had Roy toppling sarcastically into the lake and Raven squealed when she was shoved from behind only to see Selina.

“Sorry kid, but your ass is mine!” Selina smiled. Raven locked hands with her as she felt Jason’s grip bruise her thighs and she shoved back when Jason shifted his feet gaining traction.

“Losing skills old man!” Jason taunted.

“Not likely,” Bruce retorted. Raven just vainly held onto Jason as she shoved Selina off her. The older woman laughed as she fell back with a splash, her foot catching B’s chin as they disappeared with an undignified splash. Karen yelped then there was a splash and Raven twisted just in time to see Kori and Dick charging them.

“I apologize friend Raven!” Kori laughed

“Nope!” Raven gasped as she caught Dick’s hands, arching back. Jason twisted them only to send Dick toppling in a belly flop in the water with a shout. Raven gasped desperately.

“Yes!” she shouted in victory, throwing her hands up in triumph as she smiled only for a calloused hand to grab her and yank her off Jason’s shoulders.

“Fuck!” she gasped as she slammed into the water. Gasping she felt someone shoving her up and found herself tucked against Garth’s side as he grinned.

Artemis sat perched on Wally’s shoulders smug as could be as she smiled prettily now.

“One of these days Artemis,” Roy declared.

“First you have to beat the reigning Queen of Chicken,” Artemis smiled.

“Next time I’m teaming up with Garth,” Raven decided.

“I don’t think Tula or Dolphin are sharing him Rae,” Roy sniggered.

“Fuck off Roy!”

“He won’t!” Jason mused.

“Again!” Cass shouted.

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 6 years ago

Text

Fic: skin

this is... a dark one, folks.

Summary: Set after 1.06: Jason Todd. The implications of the last twenty four hours finally come crashing down on Dick. He deals with it poorly.

Warnings: SPOILERS till 1.06. Self-harm, trauma, some body horror. Brief descriptions of consensual sexual encounters; nothing explicit. Dick’s not in a great headspace.

skin

Dick’s pretty sure he’s dying. His body hurts in too many ways to name, he shudders and strains at the apex of every breath, and—

he can’t—

he can’t move his legs—

“Ssh, Master Richard. Just a pinch, and then you won’t feel a thing.”

He blinks rapidly and tries to focus on the blurry figure that’s materialised next to him. But that only releases more tears, and he is ashamed and angry at the same time, because while Dick might only be a child, Robin can never be seen crying. “A-Alfred,” he chokes. “What’s wrong with me?” He coughs painfully; something tears at the back of his throat and he tastes metal.

Alfred says something that’s lost in the roaring in his ears, but he sounds profoundly, indefinably sad. Dick’s breath stops stuttering and seizes altogether, freezing in his chest like a block of ice. Nothing seems to exist outside of this moment—there is no future beyond this pain. There is no future at all, because what is he if he can’t run, and jump, and leap, and fight? If he can’t be Robin? Every minute worth remembering in his life since he was six years old has begun with him coiled like a spring, ready to burst into flight into the night air, but this moment? He’s splayed like roadkill, limp and broken, and it. won’t. stop—

There’s a sharp needle-point of pain at his bicep, startling him out of his own panicking mind, and seconds later, he tumbles into darkness.

It takes a little over two hours for Dick to drive from Clay’s house to the Chicago safehouse. Once he’s there, Gar figures out how to get him inside and upstairs. Dick can tell he’s itching to ask about Jason, but something in his eyes must’ve warned him otherwise, because he can barely meet Dick’s gaze in the elevator.

Kory’s lounging near the television; when she sees him, her eyes narrow, and she straightens. However, it’s Rachel that speaks first. “Dick,” she says, “you’re hurt!”

For a long moment, Dick can’t figure out what she’s talking about. It’s been a monumentally shitty day, but he’s pretty sure he came out of it unscathed. Physically, at least. He follows her gaze to where it’s transfixed on his arm, and spots the blood-spotted bandage wrapped around his forearm. Oh.

Oh. The tracker.

He hadn’t bothered stitching it up that morning; he hadn’t the time. He can imagine it now, gaping and leaking blood, fat and hard muscle peeking through. If he doesn’t close it now, it’s going to leave an ugly fucking scar; nothing like the perfect, unblemished skin the tracker left behind while going in. Wayne Tech had been working on subdermal implants to deliver medicine for chronic illnesses a while back; it would’ve been so easy for Bruce to appropriate their designs for port of entry to get the tracker in without Dick noticing a thing—

“Dick? Dick!”

He blinks. Kory’s shaking his shoulder, trying to get his attention. When did she get here?

“You’re cold,” she tells him, shifting her grip to his hands. They’re shaking, he notices. That’s weird. “Go take a shower and change. I’ll heat up some more of the frozen pasta from the pantry.” She tilts her head, and for a second she looks almost other-worldly, like a creature sizing up its prey. “Pasta’s okay, right?”

He stares at her, and Kory sighs.

“Is he okay?” Rachel asks, her voice trembling on the last word. Just a little.

“I’m fine,” Dick says, the words scraping through his throat like he’s not talked in a long while (like he’s been screaming). “I’m just, uh, going to take care of this and clean up.” He waves his left arm at them. It’s throbbing, but distantly, like it doesn’t really belong to him anymore (it doesn’t belong to him at all). “And pasta’s fine.”

He can feel Kory’s gaze on the back of his neck all the way to the bathroom.

“You’re beautiful,” Dawn tells him. Her hands and lips are everywhere, fingernails catching on his scars, her tongue soothing them in their wake. She climbs back up and kisses him fiercely, hair tumbling over his face. She smells of strawberry-scented shampoo and beneath that, the faint whiff of antiseptic. He grins, cards his hands through her hair, and flips them both—

--and Kory bites down on his nipple while reaching for his groin, and he arches above her with a choked-off groan. “Beautiful,” she whispers into his chest, guiding him inside her, and he’s so close, so embarrassingly close—

--when it’s over, he collapses, relishing the slide of sweat-slicked skin against his, close, intimate, content to just be. “So beautiful,” Wally tells him lazily, squeezing his thigh.

Dick needs to say something, but he never does.

In a distant sort of way, Dick’s glad that Adamson’s still tied up in the main bathroom; it’s too big, too exposed. Normally, he wouldn’t mind so much, but tonight he’s content with the smaller, more discreet version attached to the third bedroom. He strips and steps into the shower, leaning against the wall while the shower beats a steady pressure against his tense muscles. The soggy bandage around his arm peels half-off, hanging, and Dick removes it completely.

The incision is puffy at the edges and bleeding sluggishly. He thinks it’s still salvageable; if Bruce’s usual safehouses are anything to go by, every bathroom should have an overstuffed first aid kit. Dick probably doesn’t even need the lidocaine; he’s so used to a needle pulling thread through his skin that it barely registers anymore. He just hopes they have good quality suturing thread; his skin is weirdly sensitive to anything other than Ethilon—

He wonders if Jason has gone through this particular ritual yet. If he cried like Dick did the first time. Maybe not. The kid cares too much about appearing tough, and besides, he’s distilled a truth about Robin that Dick never figured out in over a decade: Robin’s a distraction to draw fire. A dummy. A body. It’s not the whole truth, but it is a truth—so of course Batman would need to track him at all times. Jason understood this from the get-go, so he got to know; Dick didn’t. It would’ve been so easy, so convenient, to insert that tracker in him when he was sleeping, or laid up with injury or illness, or even during sparring—

Dick’s shaking again, but it’s no longer distant. His stomach rolls with nausea.

Oh, god.

He had something inside his body for months, maybe years, and he didn’t even know—

He falls to his knees and vomits the half-digested remains of the grilled cheese he’d eaten at Clay’s before leaving. His shaking’s only gotten worse, and he retches and retches again until nothing’s coming up but stringy bile. He’s kneeling in a disgusting sludge of vomit and shower water and the shower that’s still beating down on him is hot enough to hurt, but all he can think of right now is: there’s more there’s more there’s more!

Because that can’t have been the only tracker, right? No, no, Batman is much too paranoid, and Robin is too valuable an asset (too much of a liability) to lose track of that easily. And Dick’s made it so easy, so trusting and open with his body—

He stumbles out of the shower, and rummages through his overnight bag for his electronic scanner. He passes it over every inch of his body, but it doesn’t detect anything. Dick can’t relax, though, because that doesn’t mean anything; Bruce could’ve easily built an upgraded tracker that his old scanner can’t detect. After all, he has all of Wayne Tech at his disposal and Dick’s got—Dick’s got—

(skin)

He settles on cold, slick bathroom tile and drags the first aid box towards him. He pulls out a lancet, rips open the sterile packaging. He positions the blade over an old, long scar on his right thigh—remembers how it was torn open with a rusty crowbar by some random thug-of-the-week who got in a lucky hit. Remembers Bruce holding his hand while he writhed and whimpered and Alfred slowly, painstakingly stitched him back together.

It’s as good a place as any to start.

Dick lowers the blade and makes the incision.

The night Robin lets Zucco die, he returns to the Batcave teetering on the verge of shock. He knows Alfred tried to get him to change out of his damp costume and come into the manor, but all he’s managed to get Dick to do is get his mask and gloves off and sit, shivering, on a stool, hands closed around a steaming mug of hot cocoa.

Robin waits while Dick quails.

Batman finally arrives and stands before him, a looming shadow. Dick opens his mouth, but no words come out. What can he possibly say after failing so spectacularly at everything he’s supposed to stand for? After feeling that sharp frisson of near-joyous vengeance when Zucco died in a hail of gunfire, still reaching to Robin for help?

“Dickie,” Bruce says finally, voice raw and disappointed and so, so sad. He reaches out to hold Dick’s shoulder, and something snaps inside of him at last, at long fucking last.

The mug falls to the floor with a resounding crash as Dick flees.

Blood’s seeping slowly from the gaping cut on his thigh. There’s no tracker there; Dick was quite thorough. Dick picks up the blade and moves to his other forearm. He’ll need to cover all the places he’s been touched; all the places where he stupidly provided easy access.

Before he can make the incision, however, a hand catches his, quickly, firmly. “Dick.”

Kory.

“I have to keep looking,” he tells her. It’s really important, but he’s feeling dizzy now, and she takes the lancet from him without much effort. The world wavers at the edges as she presses a towel firmly against the wound on his thigh and wraps another around his naked form.

He waits for her to say something (so beautiful), but all she does is settle next to him and pull him towards her. He leans in, closes his eyes, and shivers, and shivers.

#titans #my fic #spoilers #dick grayson #koriand'r #self harm cw

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notstars-doors · 6 years ago

Text

What Are Friends For?

~~~~

Dick manages to send Wally a weak smile before the speedster is gathering the younger man up in his arms in a tight hug.

“Hey…”

Dick melts into Wally’s touch, letting out a deep sigh against his shoulder and curling both arms around his waist. “Hi…”

“You okay?”

“Not really.”

“You want a burrito?”

~~~~

Fluffy little fic about Dick and Wally being the weird, cuddly best friends that should really figure out that they're in love.

read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14860538

dickhead: dude u awake

kid idiot: yeah man

kid idiot: why tf are you tho

dickhead: who r u talking to rn

Wally rolls his eyes, tossing the controller down beside him on the bedsheets and rolling over onto his back to pay better attention to his phone. It’s after midnight in Palo Alto, but it’s a Friday night and he finished his lecture notes earlier. He’s half expecting his best friend to roast him not going out on a Friday, but midterms just finished, and he’s wiped. All Wally wants to do is sleep, but dammit he’s been doing nothing but writing papers and taking exams for the last three weeks, he’s gonna stay up late and play some video games if he wants to.

kid idiot: true

kid idiot: still man, what time is there rn

dickhead: 4:36

Wally sighs, frowning up at the bright screen. If Dick’s sleep schedule didn’t kill him, Wally would just for staying up this late. The poor guy needs rest more than most people.

kid idiot: dude go to BED

dickhead: cant sleep

dickhead: can u come over

He blinks, the question throwing him for a second. Then he’s on his feet. Usually when Dick asks for Wally’s company like this, without beating around the bush, he’s having a bad time. The fact that it’s 4am in Gotham and Dick isn’t on patrol probably means it’s worse than usual.

He’s halfway through tugging on a pair of jeans over his boxers when his phone buzzes again.

dickhead: can i come over****

dickhead: sorry

dickhead: its ok if ur busy

Wally bites his lip, taking in a deep breath through the nose. His chest hurts with worry and all he wants to do is run over to Gotham and hug his best friend. But Dick probably wants the time it’ll take to use the Zeta beam to compose himself. Which is dumb because Wally could be there in two minutes and has seen him like this a million times before. But he knows that Dick needs the time.

Sometimes Wally wishes he didn’t know his best friend so well.

kid idiot: dude of course you can

kid idiot: nothing to be sorry for. meet you at the zeta in ten?

dickhead: ok

Wally tugs on the rest of his clothes in a few seconds, tripping over an untied shoelace as he slips out of his room into the dark hallway. The apartment he shares with a few other students is quiet, most of them either asleep or out partying. Dick chose a good night to visit.

He’s pacing in front of the seemingly-decrepit phonebooth for about eight minutes before the light of the zeta beam signals Dick’s arrival and the 18-year-old is stepping out. Wally’s heart sinks when he takes in the sight of his friend.

Dick’s hair is rumpled, which isn’t all to unfamiliar when he’s Robin - no, Nightwing now – but as Dick Grayson it can be an odd sight to see if you aren’t used to it. He’s usually the picture of composure. Tonight, however, Wally can see the dark circles under his eyes, even in the fading light of the streetlamps. His duffle bag is slung over a slumped shoulder, one hand in his jacket pocket.

Dick manages to send Wally a weak smile before the speedster is gathering the younger man up in his arms in a tight hug.

“Hey…”

Dick melts into Wally’s touch, letting out a deep sigh against his shoulder and curling both arms around his waist. “Hi…”

“You okay?”

“Not really.”

“You want a burrito?”

Dick chokes out a laugh, and Wally smiles at the sensation of Dick’s rumbling chest against his own.

“Do you ever stop thinking about food?”

“Hey, I’m thinking about you! Burritos always make me feel better when I’m down, I thought you might be hungry.”

Dick pushes away from Wally, shaking his head but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips. “You’re an idiot.”

Wally grins. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”

Rolling his eyes, Dick shrugs his duffle bag more securely onto his shoulder. “I guess I could go for some pizza?”

“Pizza it is!” Wally slings an arm around Dick’s shoulder again and guides him out of the alley into the main street ahead; if he knows anything about Dick Grayson, it’s that the best treatment option is always constant physical contact. “You wait, Palo Alto has the best pizza.”

Dick snorts, poking Wally in the ribs, but very obviously not objecting to the arm still around him. “Liar. You’ve had Chicago pizza, you know that’s not true.”

Wally wags his index finger in front of Dick’s face. “No-no, my friend, this city has changed my pizza opinions. Seriously, just wait.”

Dick chuckles quietly but doesn’t object. Which isn’t the best sign. No banter is a bad sign.

The two find their way to a 24-hour pizzeria around the corner from Wally’s apartment, Dick ordering a slice of pepperoni and Wally taking the last three-quarters of a deluxe. It’s not long until they’re tip-toeing back into Wally’s building, creeping through the apartment until they’re back in his room.

“Alright, that’s pretty good pizza.” Dick finally admits, polishing off the last piece of crust and sucking some tomato sauce off his thumb.

“Right?” Wally gestures vaguely, speaking through a mouthful of his own last slice.

Dick looks a little brighter, having just eaten some fantastic pizza and settled comfortably against his best friend’s side, but he’s still not the bouncing ball of energy that Wally is accustomed to being around. So, it’s time to get to the bottom of this.

Wally finishes the last few bites of his pizza, then slings an arm back around Dick’ shoulders. Dick tucks his head in against Wally’s collarbone, who then rests his cheek against soft black hair as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“So, what’s goin’ on, little bird?”

Dick huffs at the nickname but doesn’t comment. He’s quiet for a while, probably trying to pull his thoughts together into something coherent, so Wally just waits. Their legs are tangled together on the bedsheets, barely any space between them, and Wally can feel the tension in every one of Dick’s muscles. The guy is wound like a clock, always ready to spring into action. Not that Wally doesn’t know what that feels like, but he hadn’t grown up with the World’s Greatest Paranoid.

As if on cue, Dick takes a deep breath. “Bruce and I had a fight.”

Wally closes his eyes in frustration and tries not to have a bodily reaction to the admission, but he knows he’s failed when Dick slumps against him even more. “…again?”

“Yeah.”

“What was it about this time?”

“Um.” He fidgets against Wally’s side, clamping his lips together for a moment until- “You.”

Wally blinks. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh… Why?”

“He doesn’t…” Dick pauses, letting out a sigh of frustration, bringing his hands up to rub the heels of his palms into his eyes. “He doesn’t understand why I… need you around…”

Wally looks up at the ceiling in confusion, as if the peeling paint could answer the questions banging around in his head. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Dick huffs out another sigh, then sits up abruptly, detangling himself from Wally and moving to face him in a cross-legged position. “I don’t know! He just said something about having too much dependency on you and how that can compromise my ‘emotional integrity’ and I need to have ‘distance’ and all this other bullshit.”

He spits out the last word with so much venom that Wally’s taken aback. Dick never talks about Bruce like this, no matter how angry he’s been with him. He’s always had some modicum of respect for his mentor, but it sounds like Bruce really hit a nerve with this one.

“He’s just… so fucking frustrating these days. It’s like talking to a brick wall.” Dick’s running his hands through his hair in distress. “I mean, it used to be like talking to a very sturdy door with like seven different locks, but at least that had some give to it. Now it’s like… he’s just… he’s different, since Jason.”

They both go silent for a moment, the room suddenly filled with such poignant presence it’s almost like the boy is in there with them. Wally slings his leg over Dick’s own crossed legs, and Dick lays a grateful hand on his knee in response.

“I just… I don’t think he understands how different we are as people.” Dick’s shoulders slump again, all self-righteous anger rushing out of him in one swift motion. “He’s never needed people, even with me and Alfred, and even Jason around. He’s never wanted to need people, he doesn’t get what its like…”

Wally purses his lips. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Dick blinks, looking at his friend in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Wally sighs, sitting up a little straighter against the headboard, crossing his legs underneath him. “I mean, I don’t think it’s true that he doesn’t need people. I don’t know Bruce was well as you do, Dick, but… I mean, you don’t see the way he looks at you.”

There’s more silence after that. Dick is contemplating. Wally just waits.

“How… what do you mean?”

“Dick… Bruce loves you.” Wally shakes his head and reaches out, taking Dick’s hand in his. “He’s… he’s your dad. He needs you just as much as you need him. Sometimes he’ll look at you and it’s like… like you’re made of porcelain or something. It’s never when you’re looking, because he knows you’d hate it. I think… I think he’s just afraid of losing you.”

Dick leans forward and rests his forehead against Wally’s chest. “Then why is he being like this?”

“Maybe it’s easier for him to push you away?”

“Easier than what?”

“Than you not needing him anymore.”

Wally can feel Dick screwing up his face, like he’s trying to hold back tears. “I’m always gonna need him, Walls…”

“I know that. But does he?”

It’s a while before Dick even moves, let alone continues the conversation. After a minute of silence, Wally lifts a hand to start rubbing small circles into his lower back. Dick relaxes into the touch but doesn’t respond in any other way. He just sits there, his head against Wally’s chest. He’s crossed-legged and bent forward in a really weird way, but that stopped bothering Wally a long time ago.

Finally, Dick sits up and away from Wally. He’s quiet for another minute, and Wally is prepared for a few more moments of silence, until Dick lifts his head. With the slight amount of moonlight shining in through the window, Wally can just about make out the tear tracks running down his cheeks.

“Dick…”

Wally doesn’t even think about it. It’s just instinct to reach out and wipe a thumb along the edge of his friend’s jaw, to catch the stray bit of wetness still lingering there. His skin is soft, even covered in tears, and Wally doesn’t think anything of it. They’re always touchy, always have been. It’s just the way they’ve always needed to be.

He barely notices the change in Dick’s expression: the look in his eyes that’s desperate and needy and just a little bit wild, before a sudden pair of soft, salty, tear-stained lips are pressed against his own and he’s being kissed by his best friend.

Wally doesn’t react. Sort of. His body just kind of freezes and his eyes go wide and his hands raise up (god knows why), but he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t think his body knows how to.

The kiss doesn’t last long. Maybe five seconds, tops, until Dick seems to realize what he’s doing and moves away very quickly. He slaps his hand over his mouth, either in shock or just from the feeling, and then they’re just staring at each other in confusion. No disgust or anger, just mild confusion. And a strange dawning sensation.

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

“…new.”

“Mhm.”

Wally realizes his arms are still in the air, so he drops them back down onto his knees. Still staring at Dick, though, who’s looking back at him like a deer in headlights at this point. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. He’s just… confused… and now Dick is biting his lower lip and Wally can’t do anything but stare at that and that’s weird cuz he’s never done that before and whyishestaringatDick’slipsthatsaweirdthingtodobutsoiskissing yourbestfriendandDickjustdidthatsomaybehe’stheweirdoneinthissituationbutitwasn’tthatweirdsowhyishefreakingoutrightnowheshouldn’tbefreakingoutit’sjustDickandDickisDicksoitshouldn’tbeweirdbutisitevenweirdorjustdifferent-

“-lly… Wally!”

Wally blinks, and suddenly Dick’s face is really close to his and the guy’s hands are on his shoulders and wow he’s like a furnace, when did he get so hot? Not like that hot, like warm hot, ‘cause Dick’s always been hot hot, and whoa where did that come from?

“Are you okay?”

“Um.”

Dick sighs. His big blue eyes are wide and concerned and looking directly into Wally’s and jesus when did they get so blue? “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I don’t know what came over me.”

“Dude…”

“No, I know you’re not… I was just emotional and you’re my best friend and I think I just had a weird… need… I shouldn’t have just-“

“Dude.”

“-done that without your permission, I’m sorry, I won’t-“

“DICK!” Wally grabs Dick by the shoulders, the same way his friend is holding him, and shakes him just a little to stop the rambling.

Dick sucks in a gasp of air and bites down on his lower lip again. He’s looking up at Wally like he did the night he told him about his family, about Bruce, about his whole life. Like he’s scared. Like he’s expecting Wally to bolt and wouldn’t blame him if he did.

Wally just stares down at his lips again, still not understanding what’s so damn fascinating about them, until he’s reaching up and watching his own thumb pull Dick’s lower lip out from under his teeth and gently run along the chapped skin.

And then it’s clear.

Dick lets out the softest puff of air and Wally can feel it on his fingers and then he’s looking into those big baby blue’s with a question that only Dick could ever know he’s asking. Then those baby blue’s are disappearing behind fluttering closed eyelids and he’s kissing his best friend.

And… it’s magic.

That’s the only way he can describe it. It’s like it just… fits. Like this was always where they were going, and they were idiots to think they were just friends. Best friends. Touchy, handsy, lovey-dovey, emotionally-secure Best Friends.

Fuck, they were so stupid.

Dick’s hands are still on his shoulders, but Wally’s have moved to gently cup Dick’s face and pull him a bit closer. Their mouths are closed. It’s barely a brush of the lips, both of them just a little too scared to push it any further. But it’s still like fireworks and Wally thinks his heart is about to burst out of his chest, but that’s too cliché, so instead he just starts to fucking vibrate.

Dick breaks the kiss with a laugh, his eyes opening to look up at Wally in a mixture of amusement and adoration that’s just about giddying, so Wally starts to giggle in response, because everything is ridiculous and still manages to make sense, because it’s Dick and it always has been.

Suddenly they’re tumbling over sideways in a tangle of limbs and laughter, and it’s the most natural thing in the world. They’ve got both arms around each other now and whether they’re breathless from the kiss or the laughter, neither of them will ever know, but it’s wonderful.

“Well, that’s certainly one way to cheer a guy up.”

Wally’s still chuckling, but the comment makes him snort out a few more giggles, his abdomen aching in the best way from the exertion. “You can say that again.”

Dick rolls onto his side in Wally’s arms, resting his cheek on his shoulder. Wally turns his head to look at him, knowing Dick would just stare at the side of his face until he did. “So…”

“So…?”

“So, what now?”

Wally purses his lips, looking down at his friend – wait, could he still say that? – in mild amusement. “I dunno, man, this was your idea.”

Dick’s jaw drops, and Wally does his best not to break down into giggles again. “It was not! You’re the one who touched my face!”

“I’m always touching your face, you’re the one who decided to get all up into mine.”

“I was not! It just happened!”

“’It just happened.’ ”

“It did! Don’t mock me, you jerk, where do you ge-”

In a split-second Wally leans over to kiss Dick again, just to see if it shuts him up, and when he pulls away he discovers that it does.

“Like that?”

Dick blinks, his mouth a little open in shock from the kiss and Wally realizes that his mouth had been open when he kissed him. Well, that’s even newer.

“…yeah.”

They’re quiet again for a bit. Wally lifts a hand to brush a few stray hairs out of Dick’s eyes. He’s done it a million times before, but now it feels different. Everything feels different. In a matter of minutes everything between him and his best friend had changed.

Except, it hadn’t.

And now Wally’s not really sure where he stands.

“Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re my best friend.”

“You’re mine, too, Walls.”

“This doesn’t… this doesn’t change that, right?”

Dick looks up at him, and this time his gaze is calculating. Like he’s trying to solve a problem. “Not unless you want it to.”

Wally shakes his head immediately, then reconsiders. “I mean… You’re always gonna be my best friend, no matter what.”

“Same here, man.”

“But… we can still be best friends and… do that, right? ‘Cause…. ‘cause I think I wanna do that more.”

Dick smiles. “Kiss?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

“And still be best friends?”

“Dude, yes. Of course. Those are the best kinds of best friends.”

Wally smiles back now, pressing his forehead against Dick’s. “Okay.”

His best friend in the world curls an arm around his waist, like he’s done so many times before, and pulls him closer. “We don’t have to talk about this right now, Wally. We can just… enjoy it. We can figure everything else out later.”

“That sounds good.”

Dick chuckles and closes his eyes, relaxing against Wally’s chest in a way that’s both familiar and entirely new. It’s nice.

Wally grabs the blanket that been bunched up behind him and yanks it over top of them both, snuggling in for a good night’s rest that he figures neither of them have had for a while. Then he remembers the reason they were here in the first place.

“Hey Dick?”

“…hm?”

He’s falling asleep already.

“You feeling better?”

Dick blinks his eyes open, lids heavy, then nods with a tired smile.

“I think so. Thanks, Walls.”

Wally smiles in return, snuggling lower into the blankets and nudging his nose gently against Dick’s.

“Hey, what are best friends for?”

#yj #young justice #birdflash #dickwally #dick grayson #wally west #ship #fic #short fic #ao3 #fanfic #mine #my writing #dc #dc comics #titans #nightwing #robin #kid flash #the flash #batman

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sassycassie-s-series · 6 years ago

Text

All My Fault 3

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Damian Wayne/Batman

Rating: PG-11 (minor violence and injections)

Notes: (Masterlist) Lots of POV jumping in this one. Hope I don’t confuse you too much. If you don’t like shots be a little careful.

Tag List (Open): @batboys-and-other-messes @welovegroot @nanna-the-batmum @probsjosh

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

^^^^^

Damian hissed as he peeled the gauze off his wound.

“Need a hand?” Jason asked.

“No,” Damian snapped. He tutted at the injury on his arm. “Tt. By the way, gossip-mongering is unbecoming on men like you, Todd.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jason said blithely.

“I heard you talking with Grayson last night as you passed my quarters. I assure you that my emotional investment in Cloudburst was never romantic in nature.” He changed the bandage, beginning rough before remembering Cloudburst’s gentleness and mimicking it. It felt better and hurt less to rewrap his arm carefully.

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Jason said, clearly unconvinced, as he plopped down at a table, kicked his boots up, and started to go through some old case files.

Damian’s hand drifted to one of the throwing stars sitting near him, but he stopped, clenched his jaw, and went over to the boxing corner. He wrapped his hands and began to beat the sand out of the punching bag. Jason didn’t say a single word.

Everyone else made their way into the cave eventually. Including Cloudburst. Damian was still boxing, and Jason was still going through his case files. Tim sat at the computer immediately and started running through some programs. “Timeways are still closed. Unlikely to clear up at any point in the future,” Tim announced. “And until we can get the devices to access broken entrances to the time-stream to make repairs, no one will be making any time jumps. Ever again.”

^^^^^

On that grim pronouncement, Tim swiveled in the chair to look at me. “Looks like you’re stuck here for a while, Cloudburst,” he added.

I bit my lower lip. “What… what about a speedster?” I asked. “Like, I mean, you know, Barry. Or Wally. The Speed-Force.”

Everyone exchanged glances. “Every speedster on the planet that we know of at the moment is lost in the Speed-Force, Cloudy,” Dick said. “Once the Time Bombs hit, the speedsters were the first responders. No one has seen nor heard from Barry or Wally—not even Bart—since then.”

“Oh,” I said. “Welp. Apart from speedsters I don’t know any other way to travel through time. Guess I’m stuck here.” I shrugged. “Oh well. At least I'm with you guys.”

“Eeeyyy!” Dick said happily, throwing his arm around me. “That’s right! Who better to be stuck in an unfamiliar future with?”

I awkwardly hugged him back and pretended I didn’t notice Damian shoot us a look from halfway across the cave where he was still boxing. I tried really hard not to notice at how attractive he’d grown up to be now that he was my age—and not wearing a shirt. Muscular, chiseled, with soft-looking skin where it was bare of scars and injuries. I’d always thought Dick was the pretty boy and Jason was the hot one—yes there’s a difference—but looking at an adult Damian I started to reconsider my sorting.

Head out of the clouds, Cloudburst, I thought sharply at myself. Head. Out. Of. The. Clouds.

I managed not to stare and went over to Jason. “Whatcha workin’ on, Jaybird?” I asked casually. Since we used to be the same age before last night, he’d always been the closest to me.

“Just seeing if any of these old cold cases have anything to do with the Time Bombs,” Jason replied.

“Need a hand?”

“No offence, Cloudy, but I doubt you’d even understand what’s going on.”

“None taken. Okay. I'm gonna go change into my workout clothes and see what I can get done,” I said. “Hey Dick, still wanna teach me how to fight with escrima sticks?”

Dick perked up. “If you still wanna learn!” he replied brightly.

I grinned. “Absolutely.”

Damian glanced at me as I passed him, gave me a nod, and went back to boxing. I nodded back.

^^^^^

Once Cloudburst was gone, Damian relaxed a bit, wiping off his sweat with a towel and leaning against a cluttered-but-organized table on his hands, panting.

Dick leaned against the same side of the table but facing the opposite way, arms folded, with an interested expression on his face. “What’s on your mind, Little D?” he asked. “You haven’t said a word all morning.”

Damian shrugged, grabbed a water bottle, and downed half of it in several big swallows. He sighed and wiped off again, just to get a bit drier. “She’s… she’s even more beautiful than I remember her being. And she literally hasn’t changed since the last time I saw her,” he admitted.

“So… was Jason right? Did you actually have a crush on her when you were a teenager?”

Damian ducked his head between his arms. “I'm not going to deign that with a reply, Grayson,” he snapped, but Dick noticed his younger brother’s neck turning red—and not from the workout. Dick started chuckling, making sure to be quiet even though Tim and Jason could probably hear him.

“Oh my word, you did!”

“Shut up!” Damian growled, hands clenching to fists where they were braced against the side of the table.

“C’mon, Dames,” Dick entreated. “Cloudy’s a great girl! And now you’re the same age! It’s easier to pursue her when she’s not eight years older than you.”

“Grayson, so help me—”

“Damian,” Dick interrupted. “I won’t tease any more. I’m telling you now that everyone here—except maybe B—would approve.”

“I'm going to go shower,” Damian muttered, leaving the Batcave completely instead of showering in the cave’s showers.

Dick snickered to himself as Damian left and strolled over to Jason. “You were right, Jaybird,” he said.

“I know,” Jason said.

“So… we’re gonna conspire to get them together?” Dick asked, perching on the edge of the table.

Jason glanced up from his case files. “Is that even a question, big bird?” Jason retorted.

Dick smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

^^^^^

“Focus up, Cloudy!” Dick said, tapping me in the head with a non-electrified escrima stick so I’d stop looking around the Batcave in worry. “This isn’t the easiest combat style to learn so you gotta really want it, you hear?”

“I hear,” I said, spinning my pair of sticks the way Dick did. My spin was a little clumsier than his.

“Bend your knees. We’ll start slow and work our way up, okay?”

“Okay.”

I felt like I was in some old martial arts movie, going through a training montage.

It was like a swordfight. Except it was nothing like a swordfight. Dick and I stood closer than I would stand with a sword, which meant we had to get in closer to our enemy to attack them, but still farther away than we’d be hand-to-hand, and we were going with both arms at the same time. Which was hard. I wasn’t used to attacking and blocking at the same time while holding weapons.

Dick was fast. He had a lot of experience with this method of combat—and I had none.

I did my best, but I got smacked around a lot. Dick wasn’t hitting me hard, but the practice escrima sticks still made hollow thwacks when they struck me and Dick would say, “Tag! You’re it!” every. Freaking. Time. I would grunt and attack with as much renewed energy as I could muster. Sweat was dripping down my face and chest and gathering on the back of my neck.

^^^^^

Damian tried really hard to focus on the task at hand while Grayson and Cloudburst trained. He was supposed to be tracing Time Bomb paths all over the city and where they had jumped backwards in time to mess up history.

He was having a difficult time focusing. Cloudburst’s occasional grunt of frustration or pain at getting hit by one of Grayson’s practice escrima was distracting. Every time she sounded hurt he wanted to charge over and shove his brother off of her, telling Grayson to back off. He settled instead for looking over his shoulder to make sure blood hadn’t been drawn.

He caught his lower lip between his teeth and turned back to the map on his tablet. Focus, Wayne, focus, he thought sharply.

^^^^^

Once or twice I thought I caught Damian glancing at me whenever I’d get injured. I hadn’t even seen him come back in the cave—we’d bumped into each other when he was heading up to shower and I was heading down to train.

Finally, after… oh… a half-hour of me getting the snot beat out of me worse than when I was barely starting my training, I tapped out. Jason threw me a water bottle over his shoulder without even looking. I sprayed some of it on my face, shook it off, and then gulped down half of it. Panting, I stumbled off the training mat and over to where Tim was sitting at the computer. “‘Sup, Timbo?” I asked. “Figure anything new out?”

“Not in regards to you being stuck in the future,” Tim said distractedly.

“Speaking of which,” Alfred piped up, emerging from the med-bay. “Eight years of mutating viruses and bacteria mean if you leave this cave without the proper vaccinations, you could die.” He set a silver tray with ten carefully-organized syringes on it on the table.

I backed away from him, dropping my practice sticks. “Oh no. No, no, no,” I said, fear sweeping over me. “I’m sure I’ll be okay. Really.”

“Miss McCloud, I understand your distaste for injections, however it is necessary.”

“C’mon Cloudy, shots aren’t that bad!” Dick urged, prodding me in the back with his practice sticks.

“They’re not bad when you only have to get one or two a year,” I retorted. “Ten in one sitting is not going to happen.”

“Here,” Damian said, pushing off the table he’d been leaning against. He had on a loose black tank top, black jacket, and black jeans. “Hold my hand. Squeeze as hard as you want. I guarantee you won’t hurt me.”

“I really would rather do one at a time…” I said.

“Just the flu vaccine for this year and the tetanus shot you missed, then,” Alfred said. “The other vaccines can wait for the coming days.”

I really didn’t want to get a shot if I didn’t have to. I refused to move from where I’d backed up over the training mat even though Dick’s escrima stick was pressed against the base of my spine. He was adding more pressure and I returned it, absolutely not wanting to get a shot.

Damian approached the edge of the training mat and held his hand out to me. “Come along, McCloud. I promise the pain will be minimal,” he said. “A small pinch, and then it will be finished.”

I bit my lip and took a single step forward.

Dick had been applying so much pressure to his stick on my back that my relent had caused him to stumble forward.

I pressed my lips together and pinched my teeth around them, simultaneously biting both lips as best I could. When I reached the edge of the mat, I took Damian’s hand. My pulse was already pounding and my stomach churning. I hated shots almost as much as I hated spiders.

Damian guided me over to the table where Alfred had set the tray down. I let go of Damian’s hand long enough to boost myself up to sit on it.

“Which arm, Miss McCloud, do you prefer?” Alfred asked, picking up one of the smallest of the syringes.

“Left,” I said, staring straight ahead.

Damian took my right hand and stood just off-center to my right side. “Look at me, okay? Do not even acknowledge the existence of Pennyworth or anyone else in this room. You and I are the only ones who exist at this moment. Look at my eyes and concentrate on them. Squeeze my hand if you so require. Do try and relax your left arm.”

I licked my lower lip and did as he said, ignoring Alfred circling around Damian’s back to my left side and wiping off my skin to sanitize it. I stared straight into Damian’s left eye, urging myself to memorize the pattern of the hazel flecks in them. They were shaped like diamonds…

My left deltoid muscle started to sting. I clenched Damian’s hand hard, trying to distract myself from it. Look at his face, look at his face, look at his face. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it, I thought.

He gave me an encouraging nod, that almost turned into a smile. I flicked my gaze to his other eye, memorizing the pattern of flecks there too. His eyes were really green. Like, I’d seen some fairly bright green eyes on kids I’d gone to school with, but Damian’s had this vibrant, crystal-clear quality that I’d never noticed when he was younger.

My muscle stung again as the next injection went in. I gripped Damian’s hand even harder.

If I let my mind drift, it wandered to the hypnotic feeling that came with staring straight into Damian’s eyes and ignoring the rest of the world. Like when he’d initially brought me to the future the night before and reality sort of melted away like ice cream on hot pavement.

Alfred applied a Band-Aid to my arm. “There you are, Miss McCloud. All finished,” he said.

Damian gave me a look. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked quietly.

I hopped down off the table—and ignored how close to him I’d landed. Even though it was so close I could feel his body heat. “No I guess not. Thanks,” I said.

“Keep your arm moving so it doesn’t get sore,” Damian advised, letting my hand go and disappearing into the shadows of the cave.

I huffed and rolled my left arm around in my shoulder joint.

I caught Dick and Jason sharing a look as I crossed over to the training mat and picked up my practice escrima sticks again. “Okay, Dick. Let’s run through that exercise again. Just the exercise. Not the sparring.”

He spun his. “Whatever you say, Cloudy with a Chance of Rain,” he teased.

#All My Fault #All My Fault Chapter 3 #Chapter 3 #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne Imagine #Damian Wayne FanFiction #Batman #Batman Imagine #Batman FanFiction #Robin #Robin Imagine #Robin FanFiction #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction

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joyandowen · 6 years ago

Text

MPR

Joy learns a bit more about Owen, and it isn’t exactly what he expects.

Summer was hot. Texas was hot. Joy jokingly suggested they go to a waterpark, and Owen realized that the best one, ever in his opinion, was actually only about a seven hour drive from their hotel in Amarillo. Joy thought it was insane to drive that far, when he was sure there were waterparks closer, but Owen assured him that he was wrong. Who was Joy to question it anyways, they were in Owen’s home state, he knew this place better than Joy did, so they headed off on their long journey to the waterpark.

The plan was to stop for the night when they got there, and hit up the park first thing in the morning. When they got to their hotel, around midnight, Joy realized that going to a waterpark would be awfully hard without swimsuits, which neither of them had. This had to be rectified and immediately.

So a midnight trip to Wally-World was in order.

“I’m pretty sure there’s, like, health reasons that people can’t wear jeans in swimming pools,” Joy points out, tilting his head toward Owen as the other rolls his eyes.

“Dude, I know that, but that doesn’t mean I have to put up with buying a bathing suit, at midnight.”

“Well, you are putting up with it. Actively putting up with it in fact. If you didn't want to put up with it, then you should’ve brought one with you when you decided to drop out of college and go on an exciting cross-country journey where you very well might end up going to a waterpark or something.” Joy snorts, and Owen shrugs. “I’m just saying, you knew you were going on this long trip to see the sights, you should’ve prepared for water. There’s loads of fun places to swim in this country.”

“Well, yeah, but I never had any reason to go swimming until you came along back in Indiana.” He quirks an eyebrow at Joy, “I didn’t need a bathing suit until you came along.”

“You didn’t even go to the pool at any hotels?” Joy asks, honestly a bit surprised, leaning toward Owen a little, “Are you like my sister, do hotel swimming pools give you the heebie jeebies? Because I don’t blame you. I mean think of just how many people have been in and out of that pool, and who the fuck knows how often the water really gets cleaned or changed or whatever.”

Owen pulls into the Walmart parking lot and finds a space while Joy rambles about the dangers of hotel pools. Owen puts the car in park, turns a bit to face Joy and rests his hand over the back of his seat. “Okay, so I wasn’t worried about hotel pools before, but I sure as shit am now. So thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome,” Joy cuts in, smirking a bit and quickly climbing out of the car and heading off toward the doors, leaving Owen behind. He’ll catch up, but it’s funny to see Joy go, a little pep in his step because he's excited to buy bathing suits or whatever.

Owen makes sure the car is locked before following after, and he doesn’t catch up until Joy’s at the rack of various swim trunks, flipping through and humming softly. He's mumbling to himself as he tries to determined what would be best. Owen leans on the rack and flips through with less enthusiasm. Mostly he’s watching Joy, who eventually grabs one and grins. “Okay I like this one,” he declares, and holds up a pair that are blue stripes. “They have fucking drawstrings on the legs, look,” He tugs on a string. Owen quirks an eyebrow at that.

“Neat. Those’ll be convenient for, uh, y’know,” he gestures vaguely to Joy’s legs, “How are we doing that, by the way? Do I just have to carry you all day and put you in inner tubes and shit?”

“I mean, probably. Technically I could scoots along myself, but it’ll be easier if you help. Maybe they’ll have some kind of wheelchair I can use to get from place to place, and then you only have to worry about inner tubing me.” Joy smiles, this cute thing that makes Owen worry a lot less about whether or not they’ll be okay with him in a waterpark.

He picks out a pair of shorts for himself, some plain black ones. There’s some white details on them but not much. They’re pretty bland, in the grand scheme. “Alright, that works for me. I mean I won’t mind carrying you if they don’t have anything to wheel you around in. We’ll just, y’know, burn that bridge when we get to it.” Joy smiles, nods at him, and looks down to his choice of shorts once more. Owen watches him for a moment before Joy nods again, satisfied with his choice. They head for the register.

They head to the self checkout, which ended up being on the other side of the store from where they parked, but that’s no big deal. They purchase their suits as Owen starts telling Joy all about how awesome the park they’re going to is.

“I mean it’s basically two parks, when you really think about it, because there’s the old park and the new park, right? So you can go from one to the other and they’re like totally different parks. I like the new side, because it’s where the wave pool is, and who doesn’t love a good wave pool, I mean, you’d have to be completely boring to not- Joy? Hey, Joy.” He turns a bit, when he realizes Joy isn’t next to him anymore. He turns around to see him stopped and staring at a wall.

He leans a bit to see what Joy is looking at. He realizes it’s the board they’ve got that’s covered in missing persons posters. “Hey, Joy?” he calls out, but Joy still doesn’t move. Owen heads back to him, “Are you good?”

Joy’s eyes don’t move, he’s really hung up on something, huh? “Your last name is… Peterson, right?”

“Uh, yeah, why does that… Why?” Owen finally turns a bit and scans the posters before landing on the one he’s sure that Joy is staring at. It’s one just like all the others except it’s… Owen.

They both continue to stare at it for a moment. Owen feels a sort of panic in him and he steps up, grabbing the paper and ripping it off the wall. “Come on, let’s go,” he insists, grabbing Joy’s arm and tugging a little. But Joy doesn’t budge, he’s staring at Owen now.

“Owen, what the fuck?”

“Look, it’s- it’s nothing, I’ll explain in the car, can we go, please?”

Joy pulls his hand out of Owen’s and he holds both his hands up, “Fine, fine, but it better be a good explanation, because what the fuck, Owen?” He gestures to the balled up paper in Owen’s hand and Owen rolls his eyes.

He grabs Joy’s arm again and this time he pulls a bit harder, “I know, listen it’ll make sense, just- come on!” Joy finally gives, and Owen drags him out of the store. The silence and tension is building up quickly between them even as they sit in the car. Joy snatches the paper from Owen before he can even think to hold on tight, and Owen watches Joy unfold it, and scrutinize it for a solid five minutes before he tries to speak.

“Joy, I-”

“No, nope, not yet. Owen, you’re on a missing person poster, people don’t just, like… What?”

Owen fidgets a bit, shifting down in his seat and hugging himself a little, “It’s not a big deal, okay, jesus, I just. I didn’t… Tell anyone I left. It’s not like I got kidnapped or anything, I don’t even know who reported me missing, I didn’t think anyone would bother to report me missing, I don’t know why there’s a poster of me, no one should have cared I was gone, so can we just ignore it? I know where I am, that’s all that matters, right?”

“No, Owen! That’s not all that matters! We’ve been driving around for, what, like three months? And you started a month before you met me, Owen, someone out there, someone who cares that you disappeared made this report, and they’ve been sitting at home waiting for a phone call telling them you’re okay, this is a big deal! It’s been four months, what if they think you’re dead or something?”

Owen shakes his head, hard, and he sits up again, putting on his seat belt and starting the car, “It was probably just the school police or something! I didn’t show up to class and they couldn’t find me in my dorm so they just reported me missing because no one knew where I was, it’s not- jesus, Joy, no one’s sitting at home worrying about me, no one cares about me that much.”

“I care about you that much, but I’m not the one who-”

“That’s not what I meant, Joy, fuck, just drop it, okay?” Joy’s mouth snaps shut. He stares at Owen as he backs out of the parking space and peels out of the parking lot. Joy settles into his seat, puts on his seat belt, and holds onto the poster as they head back to the hotel.

The ride is tense and quiet. Owen can’t get himself to turn on the radio, worried it will break this tension and Joy will start yelling at him or something.

They get to the hotel finally. Owen grabs their bags and he watches as Joy leaves him behind to head into their room. The door slams, and Owen follows behind, letting himself in and gently closing the door behind him. It seems Joy has already locked himself in the bathroom. Owen just sighs, drops their things, changes into pajamas and goes to bed. Joy can’t exactly stay in the bathroom forever, and Owen pushing him to talk about this would definitely be the wrong move. Not that Owen is particularly eager to broach the subject, either, but if he could have convinced Joy to not treat it like it’s a big deal, that would have been great.

Instead, Owen lays down to try and go to sleep, and he stays like that for a while before he feels Joy climb into bed with him. He presses up against his back and asks softly if he’s awake.

“Yeah,” Owen answers softly, “unfortunately. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I know why you wouldn’t wanna tell me,” Joy says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder blade. “I… I made a phone call.”

Owen shakes his head. He pushes himself to sit up, “Shit, seriously?”

“Yeah. She was a girl from one of your classes. I told her the whole story, even sent her pictures so she’d believe me.” Owen can feel Joy’s frown in the dark. “She said that last she’d heard you were in the hospital, and then you just… Up and vanished. She said no one else was worried about you. Or at least didn’t seem to be.”

“I don’t blame them, I wouldn’t have been worried about me either.”

Joy’s frown doesn’t budge. He sits up to give Owen’s shoulder another kiss, “Can you please tell me what happened? Why were you in the hospital.”

Owen shakes his head a little, he turns over and he grabs Joy’s shoulders, pulling him into an intense kiss. “I’ll… Jesus, I’ll tell you, but i just. I need you to… Wait. Until I’m done to, like, say anything, y’know? It’s a long story.”

“I promise, no judgement. I’ll listen. I just… I need to know, Owen. I need to know what to expect, I need to know about this if we’re gonna keep doing this.”

“I know. I will, just… Fuck, okay so… I guess I’ll start when I was a kid, this story needs a lot of fucking context.”

#story time #joy carlisle #owen peterson #cute boys being cute #sorry its been a while #been dealing with school and shit lol

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