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chimtaesty · 4 years

Text

broken souls (pjm!hybrid au)

plot :Helping hybrids is your passion, as a local hybrid center calls you for help because of a abused and broken panther hybrid you pack your stuff and hurry to put him back together.

warnings: death, abuse | 4.9k words

a/n: hi there, it’s been a while huh? I’m finally back and better than ever. I released two stories lately which seemed like a fever dream so i won’t continue them but i hope you are ready to keep supporting my stuff :) I hope you like this story since i spent a lot of time and thoughts on it :)

masterlist

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Am i talking to Y/N?”

“Yes you are, who is this?”

“Oh, i’m sorry for not introducing myself, my name is Helen Wallis and I'm the Head of the Hybrid Rehabilitation Center Crystal Snow. I’m calling because we take care of a very delicate case at the moment, the issue is that we don’t know how to take further care of this poor soul and I heard that you are an amazing psychologist student who even helped the Seong-girl out of her cruel thoughts. If you could maybe take your time to take a look at this broken boy we would all be really thankful.”

To be honest, this girl didn’t take a lot of work. She was spoiled and upset because a boy in her school rejected her. The only reason this became a big thing was because the parents are influential people. But you would love to help someone who needed your help so you didn’t have another choice.

“I would gladly take a look at him, if you could send me his file.”

“Oh yes, of course. Thank you a lot Y/N, your help means a lot”

You’ve looked at the same three sheets of paper for the last two hours and you can’t believe what’s printed on it. The sentences make you angry and give you the feeling of having to throw up. He was raised on a local farm which turned out to be an underground fighting ring. He had to take drugs. He was raped and had to watch his mum getting killed, the only person on this planet who he loved. He has lost someone just like you, you may be able to connect with him faster than with Seong Hye-Jin.

The speed of your heart beating decreases as you pack the papers back into your bag. The bus rumbles and your stop arrives faster as you expected it to. The building looks nice, it has a big blue sign on top that says “Crystal Snow Rehabilitation Center”. It’s a short walk across the street to the entrance. As you walk towards the front desk a chubbier in white dressed older lady walks towards you. “You must be Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you. I called you earlier this week” you nod and shake her hand. “Yes, I tried to prepare myself as well as possible, but i’m not sure if he is going to welcome my help. I would say we just give it a try.”

The walk to Jimin’s room is long, there are a lot of doors, hallways and two elevators involved. Before Helen opens the door she turns around and clasps your hands in hers. “I need you to be careful. I couldn’t forgive myself if he hurt you. If something goes south please shout immediately, security is right outside this door. God may bless you” she whispers the last sentence as she turns the key and the door opens. You smile at Helen and take a step in. You never thought much about god or christianity, it’s all a hoax. Where was god when you needed him?

“Please leave the door open until I say otherwise” you whisper towards Helen and she nods. As you take a look inside the tiny room you are reminded of your bedroom at your parents house. It was tiny but cozy, Jimin might feel the same.

There he is, laying on his bed facing the window. “Hi there, Jimin. My name is Y/N, I would like to talk to you. Is that fine with you?” He doesn’t say anything nor does he move. He’s not ignoring you though, he’s listening very well. “Should i leave the door open?” you ask silently and he doesn’t answer, he turns around to look at you. A thing catches your attention immediately, the big scar across his left eye.

He nods and you nod back not saying anything. “Can i sit myself down over there or should I stay here?” you ask again to tear his attention from the open door, this is no time to do something dumb. “Stay” he whispers and you comply, he wants to keep you at a distance. The spot you’re standing at is a great place to oversee everything you do. “Alright, i’ll just sit down right here” you smile, he doesn’t reply.

As you sit there on the floor he grows more comfortable. The door is open and there is no one who pushes him to speak. You lowered yourself to the ground where he is able to look down on you. “So, Jimin. We both know why I’m here. To be quite honest, these people here don’t really care about you. It sounds harsh but that’s the truth. The only thing they are interested in is rehabilitating you and getting you out of here. They want you to move on and live normally but let’s be real for a second, that’s impossible.” His head snaps upwards to look at you.

“Everyone tells you how great life is and how badly you need to move on. The problem is that after all life ever gave you, it’s hard for you to understand that optimism. Life is shit, isn’t it?” you chuckle and he nods. “I didn’t expect you to say that” his raspy voice fills the room.

You chuckle “What? That life’s shit? Well, it’s the truth.” he nods and suddenly his ears move from being stuck flat on his head to standing upwards, ready to listen to you. “You know, Jimin. I understand you. Life hasn’t been kind to me either. I might’ve not lived through something as terrific as you but it comes close. Do you want to hear it?” he nods but still keeps his head low. You know that sharing hurtful experiences can help you connect to each other. You knew almost everything about him. You know what those horrible people did to him and how he became who he is now but he knows nothing about you. He doesn’t know why you are willing to sit on his floor or why the hell the door was kept open

“I had to kill my father” That catches his attention. His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you.

“Two men broke into our house one night when I was thirteen. I didn’t know what was happening, I mean it was around three am and i was sleeping. My brother was dead when I arrived in the living room, they had almost decapitated him. My parents were restrained and sat up on our couch.”

I have to breathe for a moment before I can continue. Right in that moment he locked his gaze with me for the first time. We share a quick glance.

“My mum was raped before they slit her throat and I couldn't do anything.I had to stab my dad 28 times. The only thing I remember was them telling me that everything’s my fault. I don’t know what I did nor do I know why my parents had to pay for it. But I moved on. I didn’t forget, not that I ever could forget this massacre but, I try to survive. Nothing can ever bring them back and I know that. I will never see them again and it hurts everytime i close my eyes because I see their lives leaving their bodies when I do but I try to move on. I try to live ”

I wipe my tears and look at the floor as all the pictures come back. The blood, the bones being cracked and the lives being taken-”I’m sorry you had to go through that” he whispers and a small sniff leaves your body. “Thank you, Jimin.” you whisper back and for a moment there’s just silence. It’s comforting and scary at the same time. It’s almost as if he accepts you now, as if he knows what you feel.

“Do i have to tell you?” you shake your head with a small smile. You wouldn’t mind but every time you have to talk about it you literally relive what happened. You don’t want him to feel what you do now “No, you don’t have to if you don’t want to” he nods and sighs, a big weight visually leaving his shoulders. “You can sit on the chair, the floor must be cold” you almost laugh. “I’ll gladly. Thank you, Jimin.” You sit down in front of him and he moves back slightly.

“Jimin” you whisper and his head snaps towards you “Yes?” he whispers back. His eyes softly gaze at yours “I need you to know that you’re not alone. What you had to go through is in no way forgettable and I know that you regret many things but you’re not alone. ” he just stares at you until his eyebrows furrow and his chest starts to move faster and faster. You triggered something, something bad.

“You’re lying” he whispers and his nostrils flare and his eyes stare at the floor. “You’re lying like everyone else.” He almost growls at you as you try to deny what he said. “I’m not, Jimin, listen to me!” you plead and you notice the shift. In front of you is no longer the quiet and understanding person he was two minutes ago . He shifted to what those people made him, a broken, hurt and traumatized boy who’s life is a living hell.

Now that they got him out of there he’s held captive in his mind. The horror he had to experience every day is now tormenting him inside his own head and no one seems to understand that. His eyes grow dark and his body builds itself up and he flashes his teeth in a threatening way. He closes himself off. He’s gone, the soft understanding boy you were just talking to was somewhere crying in a corner of his mind scared of getting attached and being thrown away like garbage.

In a matter of seconds his hands find their way around your throat. He tightens his grip and you find it hard to breathe. Your pleads come out strangled as he lets out a low grunt. This situation reminds you of the night you killed your father. The men strangled you as well while you watched your mum being raped, the only difference here is that Jimin isn’t doing it out of pleasure, he’s terrified to the point where he’s alright with taking another person's life.

The two security men find their way into the room as your legs give in and you two fall to the floor, Jimin didn’t let go though. Your last attempt of staying alive needs to work so you clasp his face in between your hands. You stroke his cheek and give him a small smile. “It’s alright” His eyebrow twitches slightly and in a matter of seconds his grip around your throat loosens and your vision finds its way back to you. You cough violently after you push him behind yourself.

“Miss, please move. We need to move this farrell animal, he’s a threat” you shake your head as you move closer to Jimin “He’s not- cough -that’s why I-cough-I’m here. Pl-cough-Please move outside, thank you-cough.” They share a worried look but do as told and move to their spots outside. Your head hangs low as you try to steady your breathing.

Behind you, you can hear silent but repetitive sorry’s.

You turn around slightly, just to look at him. He now understood what he had done. You can’t blame him for what he did, he was terrified as you somehow triggered something in his brain with your reassurance. “Jimin” you breathe out and his rant of sorry’s stop. “Jimin,this isn’t your fault, okay? I’m not mad at you” You turn towards him and take his hand into yours.

“Do you hear me? I’m not mad at you” he doesn’t look at you as you talk to him. The atmosphere in his room is cold and uncomfortable. His demeanor changed, he feels sorry and you know that. He almost killed you and you’re not upset. It’s something that’s hard to understand, why would someone you hurt still like you? Simple, they are either unconditionally in love with you or know how you feel. They understand the things you went through, the pain you feel, they relate.

“How?” He whispers as his emotions get ahead of him. “I almost killed you, look at your throat” he sniffs and you can’t help but touch it. It’s sore and probably bright red but you don’t really care. “It’s fine” you answer him and he shakes his head “How can that be fine? You were nothing but nice to me and I struck you to the floor to strangle you. If that is fine to you, you’re dumb”

You nod your head “Maybe I am”. You stroke the hair out of your face and get up. “I’ll be leaving now-“It was nice meeting you Y/N, I’m sorry that I hurt you and I understand that you won’t come ba-“Oh, I’m coming back” his head snapped up to look at you. “What?” You chuckled slightly “You can’t get rid of me that easily, we are friends now, Jimin.” He just gives you a star struck expression as you’re almost outside of his room. “I’ll bring you some cake next time”

About a week later you again stand in front of the center. You thought a lot about how you could help Jimin and to be honest, you have no idea. The only thing that somehow connects you two is the trauma. There’s nothing that really connects you, you lived a great life until that night, you always had and always will have the privilege of being a human and not a hybrid. Jimin was born on a farm like an animal, raised like one and treated like one.

In your hands you hold the cake you promised him the last time. You open the door just to be greeted with Helen. She smiles at you and welcomes you with a warm handshake “Y/N, how nice to see. Jimin has been asking for you everyday. He told me what he has done and how you treated him. I’m glad that you didn’t run away, he really needs your help” you nod and smile at her “We had a great start actually, I’m positive that I’m able to help him.” she gives you a comforting smile before she answers you “He’s outside, by the pond” you nod and take your leave to the garden.

The garden is blooming beautifully, a lot of flowers and bushes decorate the garden in a welcoming and soft way. Other hybrids roam around the garden as well. Some play together, some stay alone just like Jimin. He’s sitting on a bench in front of the pond while he stares at the water. You clear your throat as you stand right behind him and he’s fast to turn around.

His face shifts to a soft smile as he sees you. “Y/N!” he exclaims happily. He puts his legs down and makes space for you. You thankfully take the spot next to him. The air is thick between you two and you can pinpoint exactly why. He still feels sorry for what he did and you don’t really know how to approach this matter.

“I brought you the cake I promised” you throw into the silence. He doesn’t look, he doesn’t move at all. “I thought you wouldn’t come again” he says sadly. Your head snaps towards his and your eyes lock. “Why would you think that? I told you i would come back” you give back. He shakes his head and finally glances at the cake “I thought you might’ve changed your mind.” you sigh and hit his shoulder lightly. “I would never break my promise, now try the cake” you give him a fork and let him taste it.

“I didn’t bake it though, I’m terrible in the kitchen” you chuckle and he smiles “That’s fine, it’s delicious” he silently eats the cake and thanks you another two times. “How’s your throat?” he asks quietly. You unconsciously touch your throat. “It’s fine, it’s a little bit red” he nods and shoves another fork of cake into his mouth. Just then you notice a red mark on his right hand. They didn’t hit him, did they?

“Jimin, you need to be completely honest with me right now” his eyes go wide as your face grows angry. “Did they hurt you for what you did to me?” he almost chokes on his cake as you ask him that. “Did they hit you?” you ask again and he hides his hand before he tries to explain himself. “It’s not like i didn’t deserve it.” he stammers. “They are not allowed to do that, Jimin. You should’ve told me right away, I will make sure something like that never happens ever again.” he shakes his head and takes your hand into his. “It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” You give him an angry look “It is not alright, no one should treat you like that” he smiles slightly and strokes the back of your hand.

“I’m fine” and for a moment you believe him. You forget the red mark on his hand and the scar across his eye. You forget what happened to you and what happened to him. You forget the handprints around your throat. The trees and flowers disappear as well as the pond which seems to drain into oblivion. Nothing else other than the beautiful boy in front of you seems to exist. The way his dark hair almost hides his beautiful eyes which are trying to reassure you. The way his bruised hand gently strokes yours and the way this feeling makes you want to cry. It makes your walls crumble.

“Y/N?” his voice tugs you out of your thoughts. His hand wipes a tear from your face “Why are you crying?” he asks quietly. You can’t talk, it’s like someone took your ability to speak.

“It’s alright, I sometimes cry as well.” He lets go of your hand and suddenly everything comes back. Everything is there again and it’s hard to comprehend. Why did it feel nice?

“I did horrible things, you know. You shouldn’t look at me like that” your eyebrows furrow. “Like what?” he looks up at the sky “Like you love me, my mum used to look at me like that” he gives back and you can’t move. “It’s a look that says that you would give me the universe and more if you could. It’s a look which says that you would love everything about me but you won’t, you can’t. I did things that not a single living creature should do. If you knew what i did, you wouldn’t speak to me ever again. You would look at me the same way as everyone else ever did! “ he almost shouted.

You are taken aback, what is he talking about. “Well, what did you do?” he whips around and stares at you in disbelief. “Did you just completely ignore what i said?” you shake your head and smile at him “Do you think I’m like everyone else? I stabbed my dad almost thirty times, how bad can it be?” his face grows angry and he pushes the cake to the side. “One time I was in the ring I had to kill my opponent. The bloodier it was the better, so I ripped his windpipe from his throat. Another time I broke someone's neck just to get fed. Do you even know what it feels to get praised for taking someone's life?”

Without thinking you get closer, your noses almost touched as you did. “Yes, I do know what it feels like to get praised for taking someone’s life. They praised me the whole night for killing my father and later made me bury his corpse while my raped mother had to watch all of it. After i complied with them they slit her throat and left me laying in my mother’s blood while i wanted to die. The last thing they said before leaving me was “That’s what good girls do”, so don’t tell me i don’t know what it feels like. I know how people look at someone who had to survive something like this, I know it damn well.”

For a few seconds you two just stare at each other with wide and teary eyes. The mood is tense. The only thing you can hear is Jimin’s heavy breathing and you trying to not breathe at all. A tear leaves his eye and all of a sudden his lips find their way onto yours. You can’t grasp what is happening, your lips move by themselves. Your hand finds its way onto his cheek and he grabs the back of your neck caressingly. Never has a kiss felt like this, like the whole earth could explode and you wouldn’t care as long as you were kissing him.

But the thought of you two getting caught struck your mind and you stopped.

“W-why, did you stop?” his voice was a faint whisper. He knows why but he still feels the need to ask. “It felt good,” he continues. “We can’t be seen, Jimin” his face falls and he shakes his head “I don’t care” he whispers as you get up. “But i do, if they get a whiff of what just happened i won’t be allowed to meet you anymore.” you gather your stuff as he suddenly grabs your hand to stop you “I want you to adopt me” he almost shouts. You halt in your actions while your eyes widen.

“I realised that there is no person other than you who really cares about me. There’s no one who understands what I’ve been through. Not a single person can relate to what my life has been like. When I’m with you it feels like the whole universe disappears and there’s only you, you pull me out of those cruel thoughts, you take the pain away Y/N. Please adopt me” you can’t move. That’s not how you expected this whole thing to go. Of course you like him, there’s a connection and even feelings you can’t name but, it’s wrong. The way he sees it is wrong.

He sees a saviour who might rescue him from the life he used to live. To be honest, you’re ready to be that, his saviour, but is it the right thing to do, or to be? “Why aren’t you saying anything? Am i not good enough? Do you want me to change? I can-”No, Jimin. I-I don’t really know if that is how you really feel-”Of course that is what i really feel like, i need you Y/N” he shouts.

You step back with a small yelp escaping your mouth. His eyes soften “I’m sorry, i didn’t want to yell at you” All of sudden two men rush across the garden just to push you away from him “Stop! You’re hurting her” he shouts as you harshly fall on your butt. This is his mother’s death all over. He wasn’t able to get to her and now he’s being held back while they push you around. They grab Jimin and try to get him going but he’s too focused to get to you “Y/N!” he screams and you are fast to get up “Sir, please let go”you shout, much to your displeasure he just blows you off. They push him to the floor getting him ready to be sedated. Jimin doesn’t comply, the only thing he does is shout your name.

You throw yourself to the floor to look into his eyes. His eyes are wide and his face wet from crying “Please, Y/N don’t leave me. I can’t live without you, god please.” he pleads between broken cries. “Jimin, hey, listen to me. i’m right here! I won’t leave you” he cries and cries as he slowly drifts into a deep slumber “I need you” he whispers before he’s completely knocked out.

You once again look at the man in front of you. Is it wrong to love someone you just met? You are no psychiatrist, you have nothing to lose, do you? The only thing you desire more than helping him out of the dark space he’s in, is hold him in your arms. To wipe his tears and tell him that everything will be fine.

You thought a lot about him and his pleading about adoption. He would fit, no doubt. You two share one soul. The apartment you live in is hybrid friendly and there’s enough space. Yesterday you got a call from the center asking you to come in and meet Jimin again since his condition has worsened. He hasn’t eaten properly for almost a week, he doesn’t speak or move from his bed and refuses to look at anyone other than you.

You once again stand in front of the center unsure why you are here. Are you here to end something that never happened or continue something that has potential? You don’t know. But deep down you already know the answer

Helen waits for you at the front desk. She eagerly drags you along the long way to Jimin’s room. You remember the corridors and the two elevators as if you’ve walked those corridors a million times just to get to him. She doesn’t speak since she told you everything on the phone, she just escorts you to his room.

The door opens with the jingle of the keys and your heart breaks as you look inside. He’s curled up on his bed holding the fork you brought with you last week. He looks at it as if it’s a picture, telling him a story.

“Jimin” you whisper. His head moves slightly, needing to reassure what he was hearing. “Jimin, it’s me” you say once again.

He puts himself up on his feet and looks at you. His face seems thinner and his face is puffy from crying. You don’t know how someone could hurt him, how someone could force him to do things he didn’t want to or how someone could kill the one person who loved him. How someone could take everything he had, he ever was. You can’t understand it. You would give him everything. You would give your life for him if you could.

“Y/N” he breathes out. His eyes close and a small smile forms on his face. “I thought I’ll never see you again,” he says. Your body moves on its own as you walk towards him. You almost throw yourself into his arms. “I thought you left me” he chokes out.

“I’ll stay by your side as long as you need me, I told you that before. Don’t you ever think that I’ll leave you” you whispered into his chest. The comforting smell of his sweater grazes your nose. His tail wrapping around your legs in a comforting manner.

“What makes you think that I’m worth your love?” he whispers back and you can’t help but hold him tighter as your eyebrows furrow. “I’ll love you because you can’t love yourself, that’s fine with me.” Tears form in your eyes as his soften.

He sighs and strokes your back “Then please never leave me” he mumbles and you nod your head. “You won’t ever have to be alone, Park Jimin” he smiles and strokes your back as you look at him. “I’ll never leave you. I thought about it and I think it’s the best to have you by my side, I would like to adopt you” you smile. His breath stops for a moment as you finish your sentence.

His legs give in and you both rush to the floor. The dark strands of hair fall into his face and his sobs fill the room and you hug him tight. “You’ll have a home, a place where no one can hurt you. A place for you and me” he nods and you smile back at him

“I never thought that I'd ever escape this. I thought I’ll have to live like this, locked away like a mad person. Alone with my thoughts and what happened to me. But the second you came into my room I knew. I knew that all of this is going to change. That I’ll escape” you nod at him. “The moment I read about what happened to you, I knew that I would do everything I could to save you. I’ll give you the peace you deserve, I’ll love you until death does us apart, Park Jimin”

a/n: i hope you liked it, stop by at my masterlist for more works of mine.

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thebookwormfairy · 5 years

Text

Daminette/Maribat Fairy Tail Au Part 2

Part 1

As the months turned into years Marinette's bond grew stronger with her spirits and her guild mates

Durning this time she gained 2 more golden gate keys, Pollen spirit of subjection, and Kaalki spirit of teleportation

Kaalki was one of Damian's favorite spirit because most of the time she eliminated the need for long travel on vehicles that make him sick

Marinette was able to use star dress with Tixx and Pollen now, but Kaalki refused to do it so far, which Marinette respected

Damian, Marinette, and Jon's team became one of the top teams in the guild

Though they didn't have an official name a lot of the other guild members called them team Hatchling much to their chagrin

Marinette also noticed that Damian was very protective of her

He still let her fight and go on missions with other people, but he was also quick to shield her or step in front of her when facing off against dark wizards

Marinette acted like she was annoyed with it sometimes, but really she was flattered and couldn't help but feel a little flustere at his actions

Jon sometimes joked that he felt like a third wheel, but never made him feel left out or unwanted

They were a tight knit team so much so that when Marinette, the youngest of the group, turned 18 they decided to pool their money and buy a house together

They ended up buying a nice 2 story house close to the guild

It had 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms

It was decided early on after Damian almost burned down the kitchen that cooking would be left to Marinette and Jon and Damian would do any repair work that was needed around the house

About a month after moving in together Marinette started to wake up with Damian in her bed

Not like that you weirdos

Marinette would go to sleep alone in her bed and wake up snuggling with Damian

Not that she minded, but she did wish that he would at least ask before he snuck in

Damian claimed no knowledge in how he got in her bed

He says that he would fall asleep in his own bed and wake up in hers

When he told his brothers they all got the same smug look

Dick: oh you're growing up so fast hatchling

Jason: I guess we should be expecting wedding bells in the future now, huh?

Tim: Should have known, you wouldn't bring just anybody back to the guild with you

Damian: What are you morons babbling about? And I brought Marinette back because she's a powerful wizard

Dick: We're talking about how you are showing all the signs of a dragon slayer whi has found his mate

Damian: WHAT?!?!

Jason: That's right Demon Spawn, it looks like you found your mate

Tim: Dick acted the exact same way when he first met Kori

Damian continued to deny it until one day he found Marinette trying on her new white sundress that flowed around her like water

Something just clicked in his brain

Marinette was his mate no doubt about it

Now he only had to tell Marinette that

And he had every intention to tell Marinette there was just never a good time

As time past the Grand Magic Games approached

This is the first year that Damian, Jon, and Marinette were competing along with Dick, Jason, and Tim

This was also the first year that Marinette's old guild was competing

Their team consisted of Adrien, Alya, Nino, Lila, Natalie, and Ms. Bustier

Unknown to the Justice League guild Grabriel had a nefarious plot cooking up

Gabriel had ordered Lila and Natalie to try and get Marinette's keys no matter what

Marinette was the only person who stood in his way of attaining the final 6 golden keys

Once he gets those keys his wish can be granted and nobody will be able to stand in his way ever again

This wasn't the first time he tried to get the keys from the blasted girl

He sent wizard after wizard to get those keys and all were defeated and either sent back or sent off to jail

He even tried to send a dark guild after the girl and that led to her joining freaking Justice League!

He hoped that with all of the choas from the Grand Magic Games that getting the keys would be easy

Oh boy was he wrong

Marinette was nervous

This would be the first time Marinette would see her old guild in about 3 years

She hoped for the best, but new she wouldn't get it

And she was proven right as her, Damian, and Jon were making her away back to their hotel after exploring the city when they were stop by her old team

Alya: Oh if it isn't the weak little wizard that abandoned us

Marinette sighing: Hey guys how is it going

Lila: Great our team's status has gone way up since you left. We should have kicked you off the team way before

Marinette: You didn't kick me out I left on my own after you abandoned me with no way to protect myself from a dangerous wizard

Nino: Dont be so dramatic dudette. It's not like you got seriously hurt or anything.

Lila: In all honesty the only downside was losing that quick clean up your spirit did. You should have really left her and the rest of your keys with us.

Lila held out her hand like she actually expected Marinette to hand over her keys to her

Marinette stepped back covering her keys with her hands

Damian stepped in front of Marinette and Jon stepped closer to her side

Damian: You know compulsive rings are illegal. Luckily for us we were trained on how to spot those and other illegal rings right away, because their weakness is awareness

Lila growled under her breath

Why couldn't Marinette make this easy for her. It's not like she even deserve those keys

Adrien glaring: And who are you?

Jon: I'm Jon her guildmate

Damian: I'm Damian her...Guildmate!

Damian wanted to say mate, but he still hadn't had that talk with her yet about it and this was definitely not how he wanted her to find out

Alya snorting: Anothe rguild actually took you in? Who did you trick to pull that off

Marinette: I didn't trick anybody! I earned my spot in Justice League!

Marinette showed off her guild mark to her ex-friends

All their jaws dropped

Damian: That's right so unless you want to make some very powerful enemies you'll leave us alone

Damian wrapped his arm around Marinette's shoulder and lead her away from her ex-guild mates with Jon on her other side running her arm in comfort

The games started the next day full of different competitions and different match ups

Marinette hadn't had to go one on one against her ex guild yet until she was put up against Lila in a match up

The two girls stood across from eachother glaring

Lila in the taunting voice how about we make this more interesting Dupen-Cheng. If I win I get your celestial keys if you win I will admit every lie I've ever told

Marinette glaring even harder: NO WAY LILA! No decent celestial wizard would trade their keys away on a bet. My spirits are my friends. No, they're more than that they're my family, I would rather die then let you touch even 1 of them!

Lila with and evil glint in her eye: So be it. If you win it's not like it would actually count. You'll just hide behind you spirits the whole time

Marinette glared at the girl wanting to prove her wrong

The battle that followed was brutal

Marinette didn't call her celestial spirits right away she used her star dress to fight Lila

She would switch between her star dresses impressing the crowd

She switch from ladybug, to black cat, to turtle, which was a soldier looking outfit, to Bee, which was black overall shorts with a yellow off the shoulder crop top striped tights and yellow converses with her hair in a bun.

Marinette finished Lila using her fox star dress creating a illusion of herself to lure Lila out and knocked her out with a blow to the back of her head

Marinette won

She felt a weight ahe didn't realize was there lift off her shoulders

She just proved that everything Lila had ever said about her and other celestial wizards wrong

She felt her teammates engulf her in a hug yelling congratulations before lifting her up and carrying her out of the stadium cheering

The rest of the games were just as exhilarating the final match up that will decide if Justice League or Miraculous Moth would win the whole tournament was between Damian and Adrien

Damian remember all the times Marinette cried over how her old team treated her and he wanted revengs

Nobody treated his mate like that and got away from it

The battle was brutal if one boy gained the upper hand the other would take it back quickly

But Damian won the match up and the tournament with a well time shadow dragon roar

Justice League piled into the stadium surrounding Damian as they cheered over their victory as Adrien was being carried out by medics

Marinette squeezed her way through the crowd reaching Damian

Marinette: Congregations Damian you did great

Damian: Thanks Ang-

Marinette cut him off with a kiss on the lips

Damian froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her back enjoying every second of it

The two vaguely registered that the cheering seemed to get louder but ignored it

The guild continued the celebrate throughout the night

Most of the guild was so hungover the next day that they had to put off leaving till another day

A decision they would soon regret as they were attacked the next day by Miraculous Moth

Apparently Grabriel was tired if waiting and decided to attack Justice League whe. He thought they would be at their weakness

Miraculous Moth wasn't as powerful as as Justice League, but they had more members

It was 4 to 1

But Justice League refused to give down without a fight

The battle that followed destroyed half of the town they were in

Luckily Barry, Wally, and Kaalki were able to work together using speed and teleportation magic to get the civilians out of the town

During the climax of the battle Marinette finally learned what type of magic her former guild master possessed

He was a celestial wizard just like her

He also had 6 golden gate keys

During the fight Marinette called put Tikki and Plagg while having Wayzz star dress while Gabriel called his own spirits

Gabriel: Give up you stupid girl! You're no match for me!

Marinette hiding behind her shield: Why are you doing this?

Grabiel: To bring back my wife and to gain power over the celestial king

Marinette: You're planning on using the 12 golden gate keys to form a key for the celestial king!?! That will destroy the other spirits! IT WILL KILL THEM!!! I CAN'T LET YOU DO THIS!

Gabriel: And what are you going to do about it?

Marinette darted her eyes around trying to think of a solution when her eyes landed on Damian and she remember a spell her grandfather taught her. One that only the most powerful celestial wizards could cast, and one that must only be used in emergencies.

Marinette closed Tikki's and Plagg's gates before yelling to Damian

Marinette: DAMIAN CATCH!

Marinette threw her keys to Damian who gave her a confused looked but trusted Marinette and her apparent plan

Marinette charged towards Gabriel not dropping her star dress until the very last minutes

Marinette grabbed his keys not letting go as Gabriel tried to claw them out of his hands: Scattered these keys to the four winds. Use the stars as their guide to lead them to partners. Let them shoot across the sky like falling stars and hope that they land within good hands!

As Marinette finished her spell Gabriel's key ring exploded sending his keys across the continent.

The shock wave from the explosion pushed Marinette and Gabriel back

The shock was just what Justice League needed to end the battle and win

Gabriel: NNNOOOOO!!! What have you've done?

Marinette: I've scattered your keys and I won't let you hurt any of them ever again.

With the battle over and Miraculous Moth in custody life was able to settle down

Damian was finally able to talk to Marinette about them being mates

They started dating and 2 years in after a sorcerers' weekly article (a/n: going to do a seperate ova post telling that story) Damian marked her as his mate showing everybody they were together forever

Team Hatchlings adventures continued on for many years

Through marriage, kids, and old age the team of three remained the best of friends, Damian and Marinette welcoming Jon's wife into their team with open arms

No matter what the friends stuck together and fought for what was not only for themselves and their friends but for the future.

@loysydark

@mikantsume

@doli09

@krissykat0207

@czgamz

@myazael

@renscorpio

@mochinek0

@daminett4life

@kuroko26

@vixen-uchiha

#marinette x damian #daminette #maribat #fairy tail au

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red-winters · 4 years

Text

*Batfam fic-recs

*Some are Tim Drake Centric

**Some links are not working in mobile (and ONLY mobile) for some reason? And some titles that were bolded in the original post are ALSO not displaying on mobile correctly. Idk what to do about that, but you can still look up the fic, I guess.

The Bat’s Crest - livierambles

Note: I will always keep recommending this fic. It’s epic, thrilling, and hilarious and sometimes angsty. Also, everyone is confused, including the ones doing the confusing. Maybe especially the ones doing the confusing. Also, some Tim and Damian bonding, which is always nice.

Summary: Tragedy strikes the hero community when Bruce Wayne commits a crime so heinous even the best start asking for blood. However, as the heroes try to recover from the hit and carry out justice for their friends, a random assortment of people start acting oddly, including the current Speedy Tim Drake, a child hostage in Gotham, and a young man from an unremarkable circus amongst others. All of them seem intent on saving Bruce Wayne from the grasp of the Justice League for no apparent reason, going as far as betraying their previous allegiances.

Unknown to the Justice League, these people are equally confused. Clearly they're stuck in another dimension, but how do they get back? How did they even get here? Who else is stuck in this world? And how long will Tim's patience last? Back home, the Bat was a planetary symbol that struck fear in the hearts of criminals. In this new world, it has no meaning, save for the handful of stranded souls.

In the Shadows - Kieron_ODuibhir

(shortened) Summary:

“I’m not like you.”

The cowl still looked like something he was wearing, but Clark knew it was not. It flexed like skin when Batman narrowed his blank white eyes and said, “I can see you know that.”

Chirp - AmariT

Summary: Every piece of the signal Tim unlocked revealed more locks, and by the time he broke through the last one, he was already mentally rehearsing his many upcoming talk show appearances. 'Yes,' he told the interviewer, 'it was difficult for me, a ten-year-old genius, to break open the worldwide alien conspiracy. That's why it took a whole hour.'

When the crackling audio started, he expected some weird alien language. Maybe squawks and high-pitched squeals mixed with musical woofs. Maybe they wouldn't talk at all, and images would beam directly into his mind. Maybe they'd talk in practiced English with a Midwestern drawl like their other resident alien.

Instead he heard a low, guttural voice growling out of his computer speakers. "Robin," it said. "Are you in position?"

A Better Cage - Mangaluva

Note: I was absolutely DELIGHTED to see a Young Justice Crossover with the Justice Lords (Earth-50) from the animated Justice League series, which is near and dear to my heart. I admit I haven’t really had much time to hunker down and read this, but even skimming, it’s an intriguing piece of work. Also, Justice Lords.

Summary: Wally's grateful to have woken up at all, really. He just doesn't know what to make of the world he's woken up in. At least they want to find a way to his world as much as he does, if not exactly for the same reasons...

Common People - AmariT

Note: The Bat boys are all Bruce’s blood sons, but it still feels very much like a found family. I haven’t really read everything in this series, but I feel the author has an amazing grip on all the characters. Lovely and heartwarming.

Summary: His whole life, Jason’s mom had told him his dad was Bruce Wayne, but he’d never been dumb enough to actually believe it. They lived in a rundown, one-room apartment in the worst part of town, and in every single picture he’d ever seen of that rich bastard he was wearing a suit or sipping champagne worth more than everything they’d ever owned.

But if he wasn’t Bruce Wayne’s kid, then what the hell was he doing sitting outside the man’s office in Wayne Towers?

Red Robin and the Hood - momoejaku

Note: Haven’t read this in a while, but it made an impression. Though it’s a fic set during the Red Robin arc, it very much is about both Tim and Jason. Plus, it fleshes out the Pru and Z a bit more, too.

Summary: Bruce Wayne is dead. Superman brought back his body, and the family mourned him, holding a quiet funeral in secret so that the legacy of Batman could live on. But not everyone has been able to put him to rest.

Reeling from the loss of Bruce, his identity as Robin and his trust in his family, Tim Drake sets out on a personal quest that will take him across the world to prove what he knows in his heart: that Bruce Wayne is alive.

Though intending to make his way alone, Tim reluctantly accepts help from his predecessor, Jason Todd, who knows from personal experience that death is not always as final as it seems.

Together, they are Red Robin and the Hood.

Liminal Spaces - Calamityjim

Note: Skimmed this only since I’ve been busy, BUT it does look well-written, and I’m always a sucker for alternate dimension/dimension travel intervention-type of fix-its. It’s a very specific trope.

Summary:

Bruce's habit of collecting strays is not limited by dimension.

When Young Justice Batman comes across an angsty, seemingly abandoned by his Batman Tim Drake, he decides to step up to the plate and parent the crap out of him.

Little Bird’s Vengeance - KatHarkness-Katara

Note: Crossover with Avengers. Awesome fic with Tim and Jason and some Outsider POV (via the Avengers) of these dimensional stragglers. I think Tim’s team shows up in the later chapters, too. If you’re reading on mobile, it’s still very much worth reading despite FF.net’s horrible format and abundance of advertisements in the mobile version.

Summary: Why is life never simple? Red Robin's ended up worlds away from home once again, and now what's he to do? What do the Avengers want from him; do SHIELD have another agenda; and is there any way back? Pre-New 52. No slash. Rated for inevitable language/violent themes.

A Displaced Red Robin - dragonprincess1988

Note: Worth reading despite FF.net’s horrible format and abundance of advertisements in the mobile version. Well-written fic! EMOTIONS! I love them. Younger Dick Grayson is adorable, Tim is a competent fixer-upper for other people but not so much himself. He’s kind of angsty and making YJ Dick want to keep him (and YJ Bruce, too, if you read between the lines). On the plus side, seems like he’s making good friends with Young Justice Roy. This fic was written before certain episodes of YJ came out, though, and the fic reflects/will continue to reflect that. Still, I give it five stars.

Author’s Summary: Tim gets transported to the cartoon Young Justice world, and he's not sure he knows how to deal with it. Attention: If you want to know about Artemis or people from Tim's world the final note on my profile is for you. Also, a special thank you to angel-gidget over at Tumblr, who made the wonderful cover art for this story.

The Till-then From the Ever Since - Keiron O_Duibhir

Note: Fandom classic. Definitely a must-read for Batfam fans, in my humble opinion.

Summary: It began, or seemed to begin, with Jason.

Usually that would have meant something in the order of fire and explosion and probably at least one gunshot wound, but for once (as Tim said, sourly), it wasn't actually Jason's fault.

The Wayne Family Ghost - pupeez4eva

Note: Please read this. Especially if you’re sad or anxious or just have time. I couldn’t stop laughing. It’s my go-to cheer-up fic. Absolutely hysterical.

Summary: In which Bruce realizes that having a legally dead son, who regularly hangs around the family, might be slightly problematic.

Bloodline - chibi_nightowl

Note: Complicated family dynamics, this time centering around Tim, Selina, Bruce and, surprisingly, Damian. Jason and Dick make an appearance as supportive big bros, too. It works. Take a read, it isn’t that long.

Summary:

“Mr. Drake, I can’t think of a better way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. This file is for your first adoption. By the Drakes.”

Tim blinked. “My what?”

“You were adopted as a newborn by Jack and Janet Drake.”

“Excuse me, but what the fuck are you talking about?”

Talon!Tim AU Series by keeptogethernow

Note: Found family, from a different angle. Cool fic and well-written.

Summary of Tso’ape Mumbichi, first in the series: Ten years ago, two people made a deal with the devil--unlimited funds in exchange for their child. And now it's time to pay up. But there's no way to ensure that the child will cooperate.

Shutterbug Series by goldkirk

Note: Exactly what it says on the tin! Found family.

Summary:

Tim Drake is thirteen, runs the famous BatWatch blog that has spiraled hilariously out of control, has absentee parents that suit his purposes just fine, is training himself to run the streets at night, and is doing absolutely peachy, thank you.

Alfred and Jason disagree, and get Dick and Bruce involved in figuring out their weird next door neighbor kid’s life. Everything goes uphill from there.

Thursday’s Child - anthalogia

Note: Well-written and has found family and Tiny!Tim? Automatic win.

Summary:

He’s not the first child with nowhere else to go that Bruce Wayne has taken in. Dick Grayson was the first and the most high-profile – because no one would have thought Bruce Wayne was interested in ever raising a child, let alone the orphaned son of circus performers – but Jason was maybe just as much of a shock to society for being a street kid who came out of seemingly nowhere. Tim Drake is ordinary by comparison – his parents died in a plane accident. He can’t think of anything very special about him except that he met Bruce a few times when his parents hosted parties to keep in touch with Gotham society.

Or, tiny Tim Drake is adopted by the Waynes a little earlier than scheduled.

We’re Not Driving (How did we get here?) - TimTheToaster

Note: Short and sweet, a little angsty, and then very sweet.

Summary:

Tim stared at his phone, as if that would change what was on the screen.

Dick Grayson @FlyingDGrayson

It took some doing, and in some cases a little blackmail, but we've finally got the whole family together for a movie night! #WayneManor #movienight #familytime #schedulingisanightmare

15 minutes ago

Take It Back Now Y’all - TimTheToaster

Note: And Tiny!Jason has made his appearance. Also, Tim, I am begging you to please take care of yourself—ah, Bruce has made his appearance. Interesting. Also, I gotta say this author is good.

Summary:

There was absolutely no way this sunshine was from Gotham in April.

Not possible.

Which meant, Tim was no longer in Gotham, in April.

(In which Tim finds himself in the past, and tries to do the right thing. It's more complicated than he'd like.)

Takes a Little Time, Takes a Lotta Twine (To Get Us Back Together) - TimTheToaster

Note: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, beginning of reconciliation, and brotherhood. A satisfying, cathartic moment during the Red Robin arc to soothe your heart.

Summary:

Tim was in Gotham.

Tim had pretty specifically been avoiding thinking about Dick as much as possible for the last few weeks.

For the last year, really. No need to open that can of carnivorous worms.

Dick had other plans.

Everybody’s Heard (Bird is the Word) - TimTheToaster

Red Robin Era ANGST, but like, deliciously well-written. Also, protective Dad Bruce is always epic. Light bashing of Green Arrow and BC, though. But considering the situation (in this fic), kind of warranted.

Summary:

5 times Batman heard other heroes talking about his wayward brother,

And 1 time they were talking about his son.

A Choice to Make - scorbusfics

Note: fresh and interesting premise! Cool world building, too.

Summary: They have to choose. Dick and Bruce have to choose one person each to save, and one to disappear through the door.

“Send one of us,” Dick says fiercely, not for the first time. His face is dark and angry and desperate, eyes flicking from brother to brother. “Send one of us instead. I won’t choose.”

“Neither will I,” Bruce says.

But Tim knows.

Secret Places - RenaRoo

It’s ANGST, but the author knows how to use it well. Also, Jason’s line at the end killed me. Damn.

Summary: Tim Drake goes missing. The search to find him begins.

#fic recs #batfam #tim drake fic rec #batfam fic rec

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backtothestart02 · 4 years

Text

Camera Shy - 1/? | westallen fanfiction {moved from Patreon}

A/N: I really love this premise. I hope you’ll like it too! :)

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Synopsis: AU - Iris is a model with a history of no good photographer exes. So when Barry Allen, her new photographer, wants to take her out, she immediately refuses - save some life-or-death situation.

...

Chapter 1 -

The slow hum from the alarm clock suddenly became a full siren, jerking Iris West out of her deep sleep. She jumped up, sending her arm flying towards the sound, effectively throwing her phone, glasses, and jewelry from the day to the ground. She grumbled into the palm covering her face and pulled back the covers, shivering for just a moment before trying three times to get all the items back on the bedside table. When the task was successfully completed, she pushed her hair out of her face and headed for the bathroom, her over-sized t-shirt just barely skimming the top of her thighs.

The sight that greeted her in the mirror wasn’t particularly pleasant, but she knew after smiles, make-up, and fashionable clothes were applied, she’d be looking at a whole different woman.

“Smile, Iris. Today you’ll be posing for a photoshoot in STYLE magazine. After their scandal last month, they’ve hired a new photographer that is squeaky clean and with entirely honorable intentions,” she quoted the e-mail her best friend had shot her at two in the morning.

She’d wanted to call the landline that Wally insisted on having for God knows what reason. But that would startle Linda and wake up their two-month old son, so she resisted. Not everyone needed to suffer because she was about to.

Did she already dislike the new photographer she’d be working with? Yeah.

Did she have good cause? Yeah.

Of course, she hadn’t met him, but every photographer she’d worked with was the same.

Scumbags. Pigs. Lecherous, arrogant, and sometimes… Abusive.

She pushed that last adjective to the back of her mind. There was no point remembering that experience after she’d finally gone through enough therapy to get past it. Besides, that was over three years ago. Not every photographer was abusive, she’d allow that. Every single one of them was worthy of disliking, though. She’d take that to the bank.

The only possible difference was that a newbie might take the assignment seriously for once and act like a professional. She’d appreciate that, even if he was still the scum of the earth in his free time.

Showered, make-up applied, and a fashionable get-up on her curvy figure, Iris headed for the door just as a knock sounded on the other side of it. One peek through the peephole told her everything she needed to know. And despite her previous irritation, she smiled at the sight of Linda Park-West waiting for her in the hall.

“Hello, best friend,” Linda sang, extending her hand with the hot beverage Iris loved and shaking a small paper bag that undoubtedly contained a blueberry and lemon poppyseed muffin. “You’re welcome,” she said after Iris had locked up and they were walking with arms looped down the street.

“You’re forgiven,” Iris said.

“What I’d do wrong this time?” Linda asked innocently as a grin spread across her face.

Iris shot her a glare, and Linda burst out laughing.

“Relax. This one’s different, I promise. He’s a real good guy. Momma’s boy, good grades, total geek.”

“I’ve dated creepy geeks before, Lin.”

“I’m not saying you need to date him. Just give him the benefit of the doubt as a co-worker.”

“If he’s professional, I’m professional. You know that.”

“Uh-huh.”

Iris ignored the sarcasm, and they continued walking in silence. By the time they reached the tall glass doors of Central City Studios, breakfast had been consumed, lipstick had been reapplied, and smiles were back in place.

“Good morning, Ms. West, Mrs. West,” the older receptionist said at the desk. Both girls smiled and murmured a good morning in return. “Oh, Ms. West!” She rose from her seat to call after her. Iris and Linda both spun around, pointing to each other in mock confusion, since they’d told the older woman multiple times how she could call them by their first names. “Iris,” she caved, and Linda waved goodbye to her friend as Iris returned to the front desk.

“Yes, Frances?”

The woman bristled slightly.

“Mr. Stueck wants to see you in his office as soon as possible.”

Iris stilled. “Do you know what it’s about?” she asked softly, telling herself not to jump to conclusions. Maybe she was getting a raise!

Talk about conclusions.

“I don’t know,” Frances said, pulling Iris from her thoughts. “But he wasn’t angry, so keep that in mind, dear.”

Frances pushed her glasses further up her nose and went back to her work at the computer. The phone rang and she had to pick it up before Iris could say another word.

Iris pouted but did as she was told, wiping the expression off her face before she reached her boss’s office at the end of the hall. She heard laughter from inside, which was a rarity. Mr. Stueck wasn’t always serious, and he certainly wasn’t usually mean, but laidback wasn’t usually something that was part of his daily work demeanor.

The door swung open just as she was reaching out to knock on the wooden slate. She found herself standing face-to-face with an attractive, tall, young man. He might have been younger than her but was definitely not older, and he looked as stunned as she felt. It was an awkward moment of subtly gathering air before her boss interrupted them.

“Iris! Good, right on time.”

All smiles – which was even weirder – Mr. Stueck gripped the younger man and Iris’ arms and looked at them both, drawing nervous smiles to both their faces as they snuck glances at each other from the older man’s antics.

“Iris, I’d like you to meet Barry Allen. He’ll be your photographer for the STYLE shoot this week and next.”

Her heart stopped and her face fell. Those were two pieces of news she did not want to have heard.

“Two weeks?”

“Mhmm.” He nodded enthusiastically. “They were so impressed with your work in our last two shoots, they’ve decided they want you as their star model for all the clothing pieces, possibly jewelry as well.”

“I…see.”

She tried to be happy. She really did.

But being stuck with a photographer one-on-one every day for the possibly next two weeks?

“This could be your big break, Iris. And what’s good for you is good for us. I’m so proud of you.”

She forced a smile. “…Thanks.”

Mr. Stuek sighed contently, not catching her inner battle in the slightest.

But Barry did. She could feel him watching her, and disapprovingly watching her boss in return.

“Maybe you want until the end of the day to decide,” he suggested gently, making her meet his eyes.

“The end of the day!” Mr. Stuek laughed. “She doesn’t need time to-”

“Mr. Stuek, isn’t it part of your company policy to not force assignments on your employees if they feel uncomfortable doing them?”

He shifted slightly. “Well, yes, of course! But Iris can’t possibly feel-”

“So, to be sure, you’d want her to think on it all day and come to you with an answer before the end of her shift.”

His jaw dropped.

“Maybe just until lunch?” Iris offered up. “I can call you from STYLE Studios, since I’ll be shooting there today, at any rate.”

“B-B-But they can’t make you their star model today and then bring in someone else for the remainder of the line!”

Iris waited, unused to her boss’s intensity, but certain it would pass soon.

“Fine,” he said with a giant sigh. “Check in with Helen and Rachel, then head over to STYLE Studios with Barry here.”

She froze. “O-Oh, I don’t need to- I mean, I can-”

“Not one more word out of you, Ms. West,” he said, and she knew he meant business. He was a first name kind of guy, except in the rare circumstance that he was about to lose his temper – for real.

“Go. Both of you,” he said, and no more than a moment later they’d both been shoved out of his office into the hall and the door had slammed closed behind him.

Barry managed a slight chuckle after a moment and turned towards Iris, expecting a laugh from her as well. What he got was an unexpectedly cold glare.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she said, then walked with purpose in the direction of – presumably – Helen and Rachel.

He wondered if it would be very difficult to get her to go into the same car with him.

“I’m driving,” she said, snatching the keys out of his hand when they reached his car in the parking structure. His shock almost left him standing sans-car and sans-Iris in the cool parking area alone.

She sped out of the spot and out of the structure, down the road to STYLE Studios and Barry could only think one thing to himself.

What a woman.

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

#westallen #fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #camera shy #chapter 1 #moved from patreon

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rustdream · 4 years

Photo

Hecc yea I saw @promisedangel‘s roleswap au for AHIT

and I just really like it sooo I wanted to make some ideas for it! Part 1 of I don’t know how many maybe like 2?? Anyways tho they be under the cut

General: Mustache Kid uses small bombs with varied abilities, and requires different powders to create them(as Hat Kid’s hats required yarn to forge).

Hat Girl’s future was caused because a child claiming to be there in the name of justice had set forth a series of events that led to the unwinding of reality itself. When she was sent back in time, she had believed that it was Mustache Kid that commenced these events and as such, set forth to undo everything she did. However, this caused an alternate bad future where she becomes a dictator. After the events of the Base Game, she can be found in a nice hut on the islands near Mafia Town pondering what to do now.

Once Hat Girl was sent backwards, she isn’t able to get back. This was because it was believed that when she fixed the timeline, there would be no need for her to go back in time, thus causing her to be brought back by a strange paradox. Since she wasn’t brought back, she’s trying to figure out what this means.

While Mustache Kid is for reckless justice and generally has a childish view on the matter, Hat Girl wishes to instill rules and laws to prevent these things from occurring, and has a very mature view on it, even if it borders on tyrannical. They are two sides of the same coin, and when pulled to their extremes, both can be very bad.

Hat Girl is from an organization where they go to different realities and times to fix potential catastrophes and paradoxes. She was hired particularly because she’s small enough to be nimble and has the ability to double jump. Keep in mind that they only interfere if it meant certain doom for the universe, or if it was an acopolyase scenario.

The kid that causes the calamity? They haven’t arrived in this timeline yet.

Mafia Town, or called Calico Isles: The Mafia are actually referred to as “Wrong Wallies” by CC and her fans. This is due to how she portrays them in her cooking show. While the Mafia can cook extremely well, they are blackmailed/threatened into intentionally cooking terribly in her show, so that her food looks wonderful in comparison. The person that gets this role a lot is their leader, who’s actual name IS Wallace. This usually happens in the beginning of the episode, where she states the dish she’ll be ‘preparing’(it’s actually cooked by the Mafia’s leader, for an extra dosage of irony), before the Mafia come in with extremely exaggerated accents about how they made the better dish whilst showing the intentionally terrible meal. There are many cats on this island! Though most of them are cats you won’t see elsewhere (sphinxes, grey cats, etc), though some of the Nyakuza cats are there as well. As you can tell, all of them are fans of CC and her show, and tend to bully the Wallies when they see them. Now granted, it’s more of a passive aggressive kind that Mustache Kid can break with words. After Mustache Kid vows to help the Wallies revolt against their feline threat, the food stalls are usable as a mechanic. Before, they would simply be dialogue events with comedic bad food, meant to be a reverse advertisement of CC’s show (and food line) by saying, “This man’s food is bad, but mine is great”. However, after this level, the Wallies will open up a secret business, where they will give her extremely tasty food that gives her a status boost (admittedly with pons involved). Kinda like the Nyakuza food stalls, but with fancy well-made meals instead of normal fast food.

There are advertisements everywhere, usually making fun of the Wallies(and eventually Mustache Kid) and portraying herself as an homely mother being wrongly insulted by immature unskilled sore losers.

Cooking Cat can be quite dangerous in battle, which is how she was able to threaten the Wallies in the first place.

She retains her homely country bumkin nature, although she is a lot more condescending and willing to play dirty.

Battle of the Birds:

The C.A.W Agents are still relatively the same, and are even involved in some of the Injustices Mustache Kid has to fix. Whether it’s in their favor or not varies greatly, as some of them take bribes.

DJ Peck actually has some musicals! They are generally more upbeat, and involve cliché but extremely fun stories.

Mustache Kid has a variety of movies to star in;

On DJ Peck’s end, there’s a good ol’ western, where she has to save her ‘brother’(actually an Owl doing a bad kid voice) from a gang of hungry eagles who want to use him as a ransom for her ‘dad’(a cardboard cutout). And then ya got, of course, the musical I was talking about! These are levels that go to the beat, and usually involve some snazzy tricks whilst dodging obstacles to the beat.

Conductor Grooves end has a drama, where Mustache Kid has to help a struggling dancer out of retirement in this heart warming film(mostly tasks involving helping said dancer). And a romance, where instead of being a main character, she is a side character who’s goal is to rig a series of events in order to match make a working joe who wishes to achieve his dream of groovy beats, and a celebrity dancer who’s come to the lesser city.

Co-op + Deathwish

Bow Kid and Timmy are of course, swapped! But in different ways; Bow Kid is scrapped! Joking, there’s actually gonna be a weird idea I’ll mention her in later, but for now Timmy Time!

Timmy is now Cap Chap, and has a rustic chimney sweep-esque feel to him, as he was one of the extremely few people who had survived Subcon Forest’s hostile take over by the Matriarch. He had kept himself hidden away from everyone around him, as he was terrified that he would be hung and burned for not listening to weird strict rules. However, when seeing Mustache Kid correct the wrong injustices that the Matriarch had committed, he was inspired to help. So mustering up all his courage, he had helped correct one of the biggest injustices that she had brought on. The Prince. He had taken advantage of her busyness (fixing all the damage Mustache Kid did and all) to help the Prince escape from the mansion (though it caused the poor boy to get burned badly) to Mustache Kid’s spaceship. He helps Mustache Kid out in both fixing her spaceship as well as with the ‘Death Wishes’ of this AU.

Cap Chap is an inventor! He was the assistant of a skilled mechanic in the Subcon Kingdom before everything got burned down and all.

Mustache Kid finds Cap Chap whilst he is fixing one of the computers in her ship, which beforehand was simply a running gag with it not searching the right results, or outright messing up the ship! He rambles to her about how he’s a fan, and about the whole story of he and Prince’s escape.

Now, the Death Wish in this AU is not started by the Matriarch. Mainly because she wouldn’t want to waste her time with a supposedly violent person, humoring her impulsive behavior. Plus, she has a kingdom to fix the damages of after all. Instead, it’s the Prince, who had finally snuck out (with Cap Chap’s helps as well as MU having wreaking the barriers when she had visited him Mid-game) He can be found after every chapter is complete, after interacting with Cap Chap. He hides in the pillow pool in MU’s room, reading some of the law books that she had stored on her bed. Upon interacting with him, he panics and begs for her not to alert the Matriarch that he’s on the spaceship. After reassuring him, he tells her about a bunch of fun games that they can play together, because they’re such wonderful best friends. Instead of intentionally dangerous contracts, they are actually games Cap Chap, MU, and Prince play together. The reason why they are dangerous is because he doesn’t understand how they can endanger the two kids, since it’s been literally years since he’s been out of the mansion interacting with people, as well as his occasional tantrums when he believes that the two are going to backstab him or when he becomes upset.

Of course, there are prizes! Hand made by the Prince, with an almost obsessive amount of effort put into them. From costumes to plush weapons.

Many of the Death Wish Levels are actually the three of them playing pretend/board games, with MU’s imagination involved.

Yeeeeaah I might add more but for right now, this is enough

#AHIT #a hat in time #swap au #ahit swap au #ahit au #mustache kid #hat girl #timmy #cap chap #cooking cat #the mafia

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novaviis · 5 years

Note

I know it’s been forever since you wrote the sick!Dick fic but I just listened to Better Now by Oh Wonder and started thinking about it and I once again want to reiterate HOW DARE YOU

oh no…. it would be a shame if something were to… happen

sick!dick au, part who knows

It’s a month or soafter Dick is put on sick leave. They’re under no illusions anymore. Dick isgetting worse, and as scary as that is, they do honestly try not to let thatterrifying unknown hang over their heads. Dick and Wally have adopted a sort of“day by day” attitude. They just take things one step at a time, deal withproblems as they come up, try not to get caught in the overwhelming anxietythat comes with thinking about the future. They have today, and just for today,that’s enough.

And today, Dick isrestless.

He hasn’t exactly beenisolated in all of this, mind you. He doesn’t spend his days sitting on thesofa in their shitty little apartment, staring at the ceiling. Sick leavesucks, especially for a guy that’s so used to some sort of action every day,but he’s not locked up in an ivory tower. He goes out with Wally, visits hisfamily and friends in Gotham, takes walks to clear his head – but travellinganywhere alone is risky. Stubborn as he is, even he can recognize that. Hecan’t drive, so usually he either has to take a cab or ask someone to come pickhim up (which he fucking hates). He does a lot with Barbara, helping withsurveillance and manning the comms when the others are on patrol. Goes overcase files and helps pull loose ends together. Just enough to keep him fromgoing insane.

Wally, for his part,tries his best to hold off that stagnant depression. Better than anyone, heknows just how much it’s been affecting Dick to have to step away from the twomost important roles in his life. So, whenever Dick is feeling up to it, hetakes him out on dates, brings him to the gym so he can work off energy withsomeone watching, all that. Wally is just constantly on and he never complains once. Never really crosses his mind. Thisisn’t a burden, this is his best friend and the love of his life, it’s the mostnatural thing in the world to want to make him happy.

Still, inevitably itdoes get to Dick sometimes, and Wally can see that. Try as they might to keepthings normal, their lives just /aren’t/ normal anymore – not even their ownvigilante-superhero-normal. Things are different, and it sucks. Because travelis difficult and risky, they hadn’t really left Gotham much in months. As aresult, they hadn’t seen their friends in quite a while.

Dick suggests thatmorning that they have the Titans over, just to hang out and watch movies,maybe break out a few board games. A sort of normal they haven’t had in awhile. Wally agrees that it sounds like a great idea – on the premise that Dickis feeling well enough the night of, to which Dick rolls his eyes with an“okay, mom” and kisses the sideWally’s head as he takes his plate to the sink.

They pick a nightabout a week later and Donna, Roy, Garth come over for some good old fashionedTitans bonding time. They haven’t had a night like this in ages, all thingsconsidered. Dick’s feeling good, excited, spends the afternoon cleaning up andgetting snacks. By the time Wally gets home, everything’s pretty much done, andDick’s just waiting anxiously for their friends to arrive.

They do, gradually.Roy is the last one because his sitter was late to watch Lian. The rest of themstart throwing popcorn at him, not buying him blaming the babysitter for asecond.

It’s a good night.Honestly, it is, and over the course of it, Wally can’t help but feel a bitlike they’ve managed to capture a moment from a time past. It was with a bit ofan aching longing, a bittersweet knowledge that they could pretend everythingwas okay for a night, but they never knew what the future would hold. He almostfeels guilty for allowing the thought to settle.

Garth and Donna get intoa shouting match over The Hobbit. Dick only intervenes here and there with asmug grin, posing a new question just to watch them both get worked up again.It eventually leads them to stopping Jurassic World halfway through to put iton. Roy comments that if they’d going to start one Hobbit movie, they’re goingto have to watch them all, and there’s no way they can fit all that in onenight with it already getting late. Garth just shrugs, as he’s putting the DVDin, that they’ll just have to do this again soon. It almost breaks Wally’sheart to see just how quietly happy that makes Dick.

Keep in mind, ofcourse, that they’d been keeping things at a reasonable volume. They’d kept thebrightness of the TV to a decent level, and kept the lights off, and apart fromthe five of them just being rambunctious, fairly low key. Halfway into themovie, Dick leans against Wally’s shoulder on the couch. Okay, nothing oddabout that. But then he turns his face in against his neck. He groans andtenses, and Wally can see where this is going. He wraps his arm around Dick’sback, asking him in a low whisper if he thinks he’s about to have a fit. Aftera moment, Dick grunts out a no, claims that it’s just his head. Not a seizure,a migraine, but still nothing good.

At that point, theothers catch on, and Donna pauses the movie. She asks Dick if he’s not feelingwell, tells him they can go if needed – and, emphatically, Dick says no. He’sfine, just needs to take his migraine pills and he’ll be fine. Turn the movieback on.

Sure enough, Wally isalready on his feet getting Dick his meds, a glass of water, and a slice ofpizza because it’s not good to take on an empty stomach. Which, in hindsight,is a stupid instruction for a medication for migraines, when you feel secondsaway from vomiting. Dick’s a champ, manages a few bites before taking the pill,pretending his palm isn’t shaking as he pops it into his mouth. And, since noone’s moved for the remote, he turns the movie back on himself.

They only get anotherten minutes in before Wally suggests that he’s bored and they should break out a game instead – conveniently beforeone of the big action scenes, when even with the volume down, the chaotic soundand camera flashes can be a lot to handle. All too quickly, the others agree.Wally knows that Dick is pretending he doesn’t know exactly what they’re doingand complies. So, they move to the table, clear away some of the food, andbreak out a party game, one of those card games that you can describe as just like Cards Against Humanity, but y’know,totally its own thing except that it’s basically the same thing just withits own gimmick. It’s fun, nonetheless.

And, for a while, Dickseems to be okay. He’s a little quieter than before, but there’s still somecolour to his face, and he’s laughing and joking with everyone else. Wally, forthat short while, believes that they dodged a bullet. But as the game goes one,Dick’s head sinks into his hand, and eventually he has to put his cards down,bowing his head. Wally rubs his hand up and down Dick’s back, leans in,whispers that he should go lay down if he’s still feeling so bad, that it’s notworth causing him pain.

Dick is frustrated. Hejust wanted one night with hisfriends where he could escape this reality for a while. However reluctantlythough, he gives in. When the others claim that they can leave if needed again,Dick tells them they can stay and finish their game and movie, that he’s justgoing to lay down for a bit until it passes.

But it doesn’t. Notthat quickly, anyway. The migraine worsens, and worsens, until Dick is throwingup into the bin beside the bed, in total agony. He’s close to tears with it,breaking into a cold sweat and gritting his teeth so hard his veins pop. Halfdelerious. Wally spends the rest of the night going between taking care ofDick, trying to make him comfortable, doing anything he can to help, and checkingon their friends, who are all sitting awkwardly in the living room. The movieis playing again, but it’s muted. No one really had the heart to deny Dick whenhe asked them to stay. Eventually, though, Roy does have relieve his babysitter,and Garth follows after him, both leaving their well wishes with Wally to relayto Dick as they shuffle out the door.

Donna stays behind onthe pretense of helping to clean up. All the while, Wally is pulled between thecleanup and the bedroom to check on Dick. He spends a good twenty minutes inthere just trying to soothe him until he eventually falls asleep – or not somuch falls asleep as passes out. When he goes back out into the living room,the place is spotless. Before he can even thank Donna, she’s guiding him outonto the balcony. They leave the door open, still within earshot should Dickneed anything.

Out in the fresh air,Wally leans against the rail and tells Donna that Dick’s alright, that he’sfinally asleep but sometimes these migraines last for days, that he’ll have toget a refill on the pain meds soon, even as careful as they are with them, and Dick’snext appointment isn’t for another month, that he might take the day off work tomorrowif it’s really bad so he can stay with Dick. Donna leans against the rail nextto him and listens, and after a short silence, turns to Wally and asks if he’sokay.

And Wally doesn’treally hear it right at first. He starts to say that Dick will be fine now thathe’s asleep, but Donna cuts him off.

“Wally,” she says, “areyou okay?”

It honestly catcheshim off guard a bit. He just sort of stares back at Donna for a while beforestammering out that of course he’s okay, he’s not the one suffering here, andDonna shakes her head.

Just because Wally isn’tthe one who is ill doesn’t mean this hasn’t been hard on him. Not that it’s aburden or irritating to have to take care of Dick so often, absolutely not. ButWally has been taking on so muchlately, and the stress of watching Dick’s health deteriorate cannot be easy.This is scary. And while everyone’s been so focused on Dick, with good reason,Donna’s afraid that no one’s really though to check in on Wally.

And he just kind of…breaks down. He doesn’t really sob, doesn’t full on cry, but his composurecracks. Donna is there, holding him tight, letting him bury his face in hershoulder as he shudders and bites back stinging tears. Because he doesn’t allowhimself to be scared, and he is. He’sburning out between the constant worry and the stress and just trying to keepup with everything being thrown at them.

Just because Wallywould shoulder this all without hesitation, doesn’t mean it’s not hard, and Donna tells him as much.

She leaves that nightwith kiss on the cheek and a promise that he can talk to her whenever he’sfeeling overwhelmed. Wally shuts the door, turns off the TV, and heads into thebedroom. Dick is still asleep, thought restless. He’s nestled against Wally’spillow. Wally exhales as he closes the door behind him. When he slips into bed,careful not to disturb Dick’s already fitful sleep, Dick rolls over almostimmediately and shifts closer. Wally can feel it when he muscles relax just slightly.

#theo-ography #sick!dick au #birdflash #dickwally #that song though teddy FUCK #OUCHIE

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runnfromtheak · 4 years

Text

fanfic author’s tagging game (yay!)

Thank ya darling for tagging me!!!! @boyblunder-thedarkheir!!!!!

AO3 Name(s): LostandLonelyBirds aka RUNNFROMTHEAK

Fandom(s): Primarily Batfamily (so, Dick Grayson) and Young Justice (along with DCU obviously, but I also dabble into Miralculous Ladybug, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter, and MCU (none of which I will ever seriously write for? Idk man).

Number of fics: 22 I will admit to (how do you have so many, my dear @boyblunder-thedarkheir? What is your secret?)

1. Fic you spent the most time on: Are we talking writing or thinking about writing, cause those are two very different answers. I spent the most time writing this bitch of a fic I’m working on right now, and the most time thinking about the two latest installments of my main series, Death is But An Illusion (aka How Could He and How Could It Be). I agonize over every goddamn detail with Dick’s anger, Jason’s Jason-ness, and every person’s every move and word. I am a mess, and I’m going to be murdered if I don’t update them soon. I am not sorry about that XD

2. Fic you spent the least time on: You Came Behind Me Secretly and Shattered Every Piece of Me (There's Blood On My Hands) aka my pick-your-own-canon clusterfuck of Dark!Dick Grayson and Dick Grayson being traumatized and tortured with no comfort (Some of them are so fucked up I question my own mind). I take less than an hour to write 80% of them, cause they’re short, and they very rarely take any time to plan. Fun and easy!

3. Longest Fic: At present, he had a chest full of heart and a body full of scars (pain became the only way that he could ever learn) is my longest, but the fic I’ve been hinting at on my other tumblr, @lostandlonelybirds is easily double the length (why do I do this to myself? Why am I like this?) the long boi (named one, not the one I won’t shut up about) is easily my best fic at the moment, and I’m so excited to write a sequel whenever I get the chance.

4. Shortest Fic: With Bated Breath and Pain You See (We're Nothing More Than Memories) technically, I have one shorter than that, but it’s a collab that wasn’t my original idea so I’m not counting it :)

5. Most Hits: You Came Behind Me Secretly and Shattered Every Piece of Me (There's Blood On My Hands) why do you people like this trash-fire so much? I don’t understand

6. Most Kudos: How Could He which does not surprise me.

7. Most Comment Threads: Technically, How Could He followed by the trash-fire AU title thing I’m too lazy to type again, but I’m gonna love on this one: Just Close Your Eyes (No One Can Hurt You Now) because it’s my baby, and it deserves it okay?

8. Fave Fic You Wrote: Ooo we are doing a top five.

5. How Could It Be (Jason is precious and sad and Dick is oblivious, and I love one-sided pining wayyyy too much)

4. How Could He (I put my life force into this stupid fic, so ofc it’s here)

3. I'm Scared to Live But I'm Scared to Die (I'm Numb Inside) (the suicidal boy, major trigger warning)

2. I See Things That Nobody Else Sees (And It's Slowly Killing Me) (the only fic I’ve ever written from Cass’s perspective, and definitely one of the creepiest and most fucked up. Bruce does not look good here)

1. he had a chest full of heart and a body full of scars (pain became the only way that he could ever learn) (so ummm Bruce doesn’t look good here either? RHATO #25 if DC wasn’t cowardly and let Dick react how he actually would, aka fuck Batman is the new motto)

9. Rewrites?: Fuck. All my older ones? Everything? Who knows.

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning:

Let’s do two. I’m nice.

First comes from How Could It Be:

“You loved him,” Donna says, ignoring his barb. “You loved him, and no one’s seen you or heard from you and I’m concerned, damnit.”

She punches his shoulder roughly, and he’s reminded of her strength, no matter how small she seems in her dead best friend’s sweater.

“I’m fine. Peachy-keen. Couldn’t be fuckin’ better. Honestly, you should be more concerned with Replacement, don’t think he’s slept in—”

“Jason.” Her voice is firm, even as her eyes swim with tears and she holds her arms tight to herself, breathing in the well-loved item’s scent. Jason wonders when Dick wore it last, if Donna had taken it from his abandoned Gotham Penthouse or his Chicago Apartment. He wonders if he’d left it draped over the couch, like the natural disaster he was, or if it had been folded neatly in a drawer.

For someone who prides himself on not being sentimental, Jason suddenly wishes he had something of Dick’s too.

“I’m here because I care, and because if Dick was here, he’d be doing the same thing I am.”

“But he ain’t here,” Jason snaps, “Is he?”

Donna’s head falls, and he feels like a giant jerk. He just… reacts poorly to that name, hasn’t heard it spoken since the transmission and subsequent funeral, since the guy he’d had the hots for since wearing the scaly panties had his mask ripped away and his life taken in front of Bruce’s eyes (who, to absolutely no one’s surprise, failed to save his son).

In the aftermath, no one said Dick Grayson’s name, always Nightwing, or some inane nickname the superhero community had for him. Last time he said it was to Damian, a failed attempt at comfort. But even Jason’s form of mutual grieving had been better than any of Bruce’s shit ideas. Bastard immortalized the ripped costume from his own son’s corpse (not that it had been the first time) and hadn’t even had the decency to give it a plaque (No ‘Good Soldier’ or ‘Good Son’, just a bare glass case with a bloody suit). Which… was weird. Jason was far from B’s best friend, but even he noticed something seemed strange, off, just not quite right. Like the funeral he didn’t speak at, like the breakdown none of them had witnessed beyond a one-off rage fit

“B, what the fuck happened down here?”

The Batcave was a disaster, dents glaringly obvious in several vehicles and a large spiderweb crack across the Batcomputer. Bruce closes the screen down, but Jason manages to catch a spiraling eye.

“Nothing, just…”

Bruce looks at the spare Nightwing costume none of them had taken down yet, still clean and ready for use (too bad its owner died and would never wear it again).

“Dick?” Jason questions, and the way Bruce’s eyes snap to his face is almost suspicious, almost enough to arouse concern.

“Yes. I—”

Jason sits next to Bruce on the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I miss him too, Old Man. Don’t mean you need to be an ass about it.”

A memorial next to Jason’s own, but Dickhead’s is empty and broken from Damian’s fists and grief, and Jason’s is just gone. No one told him why, it was just gone.

Kind of like Dick.

He wonders if Bruce would have told him if the video hadn’t been broadcast, if he would’ve told anyone. B did love his fuckin’ secrets.

“No,” she whispers, and he can hear the tears in her voice, can feel her grief as keenly as his own. It’s palpable, tangible, “He’s dead, and I’m alive, and I don’t know how to handle it.”

And then, to Jason’s mounting horror, she starts crying openly.

…..

Second comes from my one I’m working on rn with Stray!Dick called I See Sunset In Your Eyes (I Hate This Part Right Here)

“Come on,” Wally says with a pout, dragging an overly amused Jason and Dick with him through the karaoke bar doors. “Donna and Roy are waiting for us, and Dick had to take forever to primp.”

Dick shrugs with a grin.

“Beauty takes time, time I can tell you did not take.”

Jason snorts, and Wally glares at him.

“At least I don’t take five hours to finish getting ready.”

“At least I can last longer than five minutes.”

“Ouch!” Roy butts in, throwing an arm around Jason and Dick’s shoulders. “Claws are out tonight!”

“Speaking from experience?” Jason asks, eyebrow raised.

Dick smirks without comment, sauntering past the group towards the table Donna’s lounging at.

“Hey gorgeous twin of mine,” He greets with a kiss to her eyes. She smirks, rolling her eyes at him.

“You’re just stroking your own ego with the twin tacked on, Wonder Boy.”

Dick bumps his shoulder against hers.

“Can’t I stroke both our egos?”

“You can stroke mine,” Wally mutters, turning red when Stray winks at his phrasing. Jason and Roy both facepalm, groaning. “Not what I meant guys!”

“Why Kid Idiot,” Dick replies, hand on his heart, “I had no idea you could be so forward~!”

Wally glares, waving over the waitress.

“Round of shots, on this dick,” he jerks his thumb at Stray, offering up his fake ID. She doesn’t bother checking it, probably because this is Gotham, and they were all in uniform. “Whisky, please.”

“Trying to get me drunk?” Jason jokes. It is, after all, his first big outing with the Titans for non-mission reasons. Stray had practically dragged him out of the Manor with a wink at Alfred and a middle finger for Bruce, saying that Jason needed to have fun outside of books.

Jason knows better than arguing with Dick Grayson-Kyle when he wants something, Stray trained him well.

“Of course, Batboy,” Roy replies, “It’s not a Titans outing if Stray is fully dressed and everyone’s sober.”

Dick shrugs.

“You’ll have to get some real liquor in me if you want me to do anything like last time.”

“Last time?” Jason asks, looking to Donna for an answer. Dick snorts. You get near naked one time…

“Boy Blunder ended up in just his boxers in a dancing cage drunk of his ass. Everyone thought he was one of the strippers, and he made, what, three-hundred dollars in bills?”

“Five-hundred,” Dick replies proudly, offering the waitress a twenty as she came back with their drinks. “Keep the change, darlin’!” He adds with a wink.

She flushes, making Jason frown.

Stray, of course, notices this and elbows Jason.

“Don’t get jealous, Blue Jay, it’s not becoming.”

Jason does not blush. He doesn’t, and that’s the hill he will die on.

“I’m not. On an unrelated note, pass me a shot.”

Jason is the master of changing the subject, Stray thinks sarcastically, passing him a shot and downing one of his own.

“Five bucks says alley cat blacks out,” Roy says smugly as Dick makes a face, the way he always did with heavier liquors. He glares at the redhead, who shrugs unapologetically.

Donna eyes them both speculatively, taking a sip of her own drink.

“Twenty says he gives a lap dance before he blacks out.”

Roy snorts.

“I’ll take it,” and to Dick, “Don’t do it, for me.”

Dick bats his eyes innocently.

“Lil’ old me? I would never do something so…” He trails a finger down Roy’s chest, making him swallow roughly. “Scandalous.”

Donna grins victoriously as Roy groans, trying and failing to hide his excitement.

“I hate you. I hate you both.”

Tagging whoever sees this, I suppose?

#dcu #dick grayson #my writing #stray!dick

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sqoiler · 5 years

Note

THe Director's cut for into the spoilersverse please! and a star too!

ok i’m gonna copy-paste the fic and like. comment on sections. i guess.

so the idea for this fic came from me realizing i have a bunch of alternate stephs. someone had asked me about a black canary steph and i liked the idea but didn’t want to do a full fic with her, so i was kind of like “hey! what if the stephs met each other!” and here we are.

Lex Luthor made a multiverse machine, in order to mine Kryptonite from other dimensions. It was kinda a good idea, except the machine was faulty, and kept dragging other stuff from the multiverse into Lex’s earth as well.

The League was dispatched to deal with the alternate versions of themselves that were brought into their Earth. Before he left, Batman assigned everyone in Gotham to guard the city from the various monsters and Rogues who roamed the city.

Spoiler had just finished a fight with a female version of Oswald Cobblepot and was headed to Nightwing to help him deal with a pair of mischievous twins, when the air in front of her opened up and a dark shaped tumbled through. Spoiler grabbed her bo-staff and dropped into a crouch, wary.

i think the “mischievous twins” thing was supposed to be a reference to the batman beyond dee dee twins.

The shape sat up, and Spoiler absorbed the dark cape and pointy ears, the purple flashes on the suit, and the golden curls tumbling down her back.

Spoiler met her own eyes.

“Shit,” the other girl said, and she stood, brushing off her knees. Spoiler lowered her bo-staff and straightened, looking at herself curiously. “Did you pull me here?”

“No,” Spoiler said. “Lex Luthor made a machine….”

“Say no more,” the other girl said, and Spoiler noticed a yellow bat emblazoned on her chest. Her mouth fell open.

“Batgirl?” she gasped. She vaguely recognized the suit from the images of the other timeline that she’d seen, months ago.

“Yeah,” Batgirl said. “And you’re Spoiler. I haven’t been Spoiler in years, but you make it work. I like the half-mask, it’s nice.”

“Thanks,” Spoiler said, feeling a little ridiculous. “Sorry, I’ve never met an alternate version of myself before.”

“Me neither,” Batgirl admitted. “Although you always hear about it, don’t you.”

“Yeah,” Spoiler agreed. This was seriously surreal. Seeing herself–same height, a little longer hair, but standing so confidently? Spoiler blinked and told herself not to compare. They were different, after all. “So, Batgirl, huh? How’d…how’d you land that?”

“Cass gave it to me,” Batgirl said, shrugging. “When B died. But he’s back now, don’t worry.”

“Huh,” Spoiler said, and she remembered the mentions of Cass as Batgirl, too. “So where’s Babs, then?”

“You mean Babs is still Batgirl in your universe?” Batgirl asked, eyes wide. “This universe?” She gestured around them. Spoiler nodded.

when i made this fic, i didn’t INTEND to slam dunk rebirth/new 52, but that’s what happened. i figured when i started that i needed the two “canon” stephs, and then i made a list of the other stephs i wanted to include (some of which were nightwing!steph & robin!steph) but i had to whittle it down so there’d be the same amount of characters as spider-verse. not because this is a spider-verse au, but because i figured that the gag was already there in the title/concept, and it seemed like a good amount of characters–not too many, or too little. speaking of that, every character ROUGHLY corresponds to a spider-verse one: rebirth steph = miles, preboot steph = peter b. parker, cluekid = peni, dart = spider-ham, canary = gwen, and batman steph = spider noir.

“Yeah, nobody else has ever been Batgirl,” Spoiler said.

“That’s so fucking weird,” Batgirl said. “Babs hasn’t been Batgirl since before I started out, and that was like five years ago. You mean she didn’t get shot?”

“She did, but there was an implant,” Spoiler said. “So she’s better.”

“Wow. That’s great but–how do you survive without Oracle?” Batgirl asked. “I want my universe back.”

Spoiler agreed with her, and wondered how to put her back. Should she take her to Batman? Hm. For all the multiverse shenanigans she’d heard about, she really didn’t know how to deal with them, what the protocol was.

“Let’s go find Drake,” Spoiler said. “He just got back from a multiverse adventure.”

“Drake? Like the rapper?”

“No, like Tim. My boyfriend? It’s his new code name.”

physically painful to put steph & tim together, but it had to be done.

“Tim picked his own fucking last name? That’s so stupid,” Batgirl said, and although Spoiler agreed, she didn’t say that. Spoiler checked her trackers, and found that Drake was across the city. She got out her grapple, and Batgirl did the same.

“Wait,” Batgirl called a minute later, when they were already in the air. They landed on the roof of the next building and Spoiler turned to her expectantly. “Did you say that he’s your boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Spoiler said. “Is he not?”

“Not since like, middle school!” Batgirl cried, and Spoiler rolled her eyes.

“We don’t live in the same universe,” she reminded her. “Our Tims are probably totally different.”

“Yeah, right,” Batgirl said, and then there was a flash of purple light and Spoiler turned to face it. Two people appeared. One of them was in a purple bodysuit with a lightning bolt emblazoned on the chest, blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail. The other was wearing fishnet tights and a leather jacket, an armored purple unitard under the jacket and a skirt over that. Her blonde hair was long, nearly to her elbows, and free-flowing. The new pair blinked at Spoiler and Batgirl.

“Holyfuckthat’susbutBats,” the girl with the lightning bolts said, her words tipping over each other, and Spoiler said, “Before today, I’d never been involved in multiverse shenanigans, and now this!”

She gestured at the duo.

“I’m Dart,” the speedster-Steph said, holding out a hand. Spoiler shook it, dumbfounded.

i felt like dart would be accepted as the most outlandish to the other stephs. she’s a meta, she has nothing to do with batman at all, she barely remembers living in gotham, etc, which is why in my head she was equivalent to spider-ham. like i feel like rebirth steph looked around at these other versions of herself like “sure, that makes sense”, but with dart she was like “what the fuck am i looking at?”

“I’m Canary,” the other Steph said. “Violet Canary, but generally they just call me Canary.”

“Like Red and Gold Canaries,” Dart said gleefully.

“….No,” Canary said. “I don’t know who that is.”

“Black Canary’s partners,” Dart said, rolling her eyes. “Cass and Jason.”

“Cass and Jason are Bats,” Batgirl said. “Not Canaries.”

“Not in my world,” Dart said. “What, in your universe is everyone a Bat?”

however weird all the other stephs found dart, though, she found them all equally weird. all these people we’re used to seeing as bats she saw as totally different things and having them all lumped together would be surreal to her. she grew up with barry as her dad, so learning that in these other universes some stephs a) stayed with arthur as their dad, or b) had some random rich guy she kinda knows as their dad was pretty weird.

“Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Damian, Babs, Duke,” Spoiler rattled off.

“Duke?” Batgirl asked.

“Yeah, none of those people are Bats in my world,” Dart said. “Dick’s a Super, Cass and Jason are Canaries, Damian’s a Lantern, Tim’s a Martian, Duke’s a Wonder, and Babs is Aquagirl. Or, well, she used to be, before the accident.”

“See?” Batgirl demanded, gesturing at Spoiler.

“I didn’t give her the implant!” Spoiler said. “It happened before I even started crime-fighting!”

“She’s not Oracle in your universe?” Canary asked, looking wildly startled. Spoiler threw her hands up.

“Sorry that you guys landed in a garbage universe, I guess,” she said, and Dart patted her shoulder.

other stephs pushing my rebirth-sucks agenda. i regret nothing.

“So this is your place, huh? Kinda nice,” she said. “You know, I’ve never really been in Gotham before? Not since I moved away, anyway.”

“Yeah, how the fuck are you a speedster?” Canary asked. “I’m not even a meta, and my job depends on me having superpowers.”

“I was going to ask the same question,” Batgirl said.

“I mean, basically the same way everyone else did,” Dart said. “I made Wally tell me how he did it, who made Barry tell him how he did it, who made Jay tell him how he did it. And, uh, the rest is history.”

“But why were you with Wally–? Never mind,” Spoiler said. “We really need to find Drake.”

At Dart and Canary’s confused looks, Batgirl said in a loud whisper, “As in Tim. That’s his new codename. And yeah, we know it’s stupid.”

“Thank you, Batgirl,” Spoiler said loudly. “Let’s just go, yeah?”

“Won’t Batman snipe me?” Dart asked, and Canary asked Batgirl for a spare grapple.

dart in her head: what the fuckkkkkkk

other stephs: calm down lol it’s just batman

“He’s out of town,” Spoiler said. “Just follow us.”

“Sure thing,” Dart said. “Wait, what’s your codename?”

“Spoiler,” Spoiler said. “You mean you were never…?”

“I used to be Kid Flash, but never ‘Spoiler’, whoever that is,” Dart said. “Sorry.”

“Even I was Spoiler, and I’m not even a Bat,” Canary said, and Dart said, “Okay, we get it, I’m a weirdo among Stephanies. Let’s go.”

They went, and Spoiler wondered if the other Bats were also dealing with themselves. She was leading the way, which was weird, because she never led any ways. Maybe if it was just her and Tim, or something.

Below her, Spoiler caught sight of a swarm of Clayfaces, and she had to stop. She yelled to the others to help her, and they dropped into the alley below.

Fighting with only herself as backup was weird, Spoiler thought. Batgirl threw batarangs that had stuff inside them. Dart sped around confusing the Clayfaces and Spoiler brought her bo-staff down hard on one, but it just sloshed through his arm. Oops.

“Cover your ears!” Canary yelled, and she threw a little device at a Clayface. It screamed, a loud noise that was what Spoiler assumed the Canary Cry sounded like. The Clayfaces barely reacted.

From above, a dark shape descended. Spoiler could’ve cried in relief, even though she was sure it wasn’t her own Batman.

Batman threw a device at a Clayface, which sent out some sort of signal that froze all the Clayfaces that weren’t already frozen by Batgirl’s batarangs. Icearangs? Whatever.

Quick work was made of the Clayfaces, and then Batman led the Stephs back into the air.

“You saved us!” Dart said.

“Yes,” Batman said. Spoiler inspected their new friend. This Batman was shorter than Bruce, and the bat across her chest was purple. The eyes on the cowl glowed with purple light, but it was still unmistakably Batman. She had on purple lipstick, and Spoiler spotted a scar near her mouth. She knew who this was.

“Holy shit,” Spoiler breathed, and beside her, the others seemed to come to the same conclusion. “You’re me.”

this moment right here, where steph looks at batman and it’s herself…? that’s probably why i even bothered writing this fic.

“I would argue that I’m me,” Batman said, her mouth twisting into a smirk. “But yes, I am another Stephanie Wayne.”

“Wayne?” Spoiler and Batgirl cried at the same time.

as much as i love ignoring canon, in this fic i sort of had to go along with it, and i think this moment was kind of a good one.

“Fuck,” Dart said. “If that isn’t a weird last name to think of me having.”

“It makes sense that circumstances would differ,” Canary said. “Although in my universe, I was never truly a Bat.”

“But Wayne?” Spoiler said, waving her hands.

“Bruce actually adopted you?” Batgirl asked.

“No,” Batman said. “He left a portion of the estate to me in his will, and after I took up the mantle I changed my last name.”

“What the fuck,” Spoiler said, and Batgirl seemed of the same mind.

“Why are you panicking? It’s not that weird,” Dart said. “And I mean, clearly you all aren’t Stephanie Allen.”

“Allen?” Batgirl repeated, her voice an octave higher.

“Sweet Jesus,” Batman said, and Spoiler pushed that image aside for examining at a later time. “The pair of you never shed ‘Brown’, didn’t you.”

“No!” Spoiler cried.

“I’ve never even thought that was an option!” Batgirl said, sounding distraught.

“I’ve just been daydreaming about the day Tim proposes so I can be anything besides a Brown,” Spoiler admitted.

“That’s disgusting,” Batman said. “You and Tim, really?”

“Why not?” Spoiler demanded. “Everyone seems to be of the same mind–what’s wrong with him?”

“I mean, besides that he’s an asshole?” Batgirl asked. “Uh, two words: Super. Girl.”

“I’ve never even met Supergirl,” Spoiler said, struggling to imagine herself dating Supergirl.

“Tim’s dead,” Batman said flatly. “But I agree with Batgirl’s assessment.”

“I think Supergirl and Babs have a thing going on?” Dart said. “Maybe? But anyway I’m more of a Wonder Girl kinda gal myself.”

“Ditto,” Canary said.

“Okay, I get it, you guys are hetero-shaming me,” Spoiler said, lifting her hands up. “For the record, I am bisexual.”

the idea of every steph besides the “real” steph being gay & having a girlfriend is comedy. gold.

“Good,” Batman said.

“Although, speaking of my lovely boyfriend, I should probably tell him about this….Stephplosion,” Spoiler said, waving her arms at them. She put her finger to her ear to comm Drake, but then the air folded in on itself on a roof within Spoiler’s line of sight and she saw a flash of a familiar color that made her blood boil.

“Shit,” she said.

“What?” Dart asked. Spoiler pointed.

“There was some….orange over there,” she said significantly.

headcanon that steph hates all orange, but the specific shade of cluemaster orange especially.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Batgirl said. “If I have to deal with alternate Cluemasters I’m going to slaughter someone.”

“We need to check it out,” Batman said.

“I’m only agreeing since there’s five of us,” Canary said.

“I haven’t seen Arthur since I was eleven and I’m not about to start now,” Dart said, and Spoiler pushed down a surge of jealousy. Batman led the way, grabbing Dart to carry her across the gap.

They stopped at the edge of the roof and looked down at the kid–the kid!–who was sitting on the rooftop below them.

She had on an orange skirt and shirt with blue suspenders. Her tights–also orange–were ripped and she had on orange combat boots. Her bandana was pulled down from her face to rest around her neck, and her blonde hair was in tangles.

Spoiler stared her thirteen year old self in the face and thought about fainting.

“What the fuck,” Batgirl said flatly.

i feel like this moment sort of parallels/reflects the moment when spoiler first sees batman & recognizes it as herself. batman!steph is like a dream come true, and cluekid!spoiler her worst nightmare. both are the kind of dreams you didn’t know you even had until you encounter them, but yeah. holy shit that’s batman and that’s ME vs holy shit that’s cluekid and that’s ME

“Don’t hit me!” the kid cried, scrambling to her feet. She had braces, Spoiler noted dimly. “Who are you? What happened?”

“We’re in an alternate universe,” Batman said. “Something’s wrong with the multiverse.”

“Lex Luthor,” Spoiler provided, dazed. “Mining for Kryptonite. Batman–my Batman–is taking care of it.”

“Oh,” tiny, orange Steph said. “So…who are you, then?”

Batman pulled off her cowl. Her blonde hair was short and messy and her face was–old. Spoiler pegged her to be late twenties, probably. Huh. The other Stephs were all teenagers like Spoiler.

idk if you’ve read “touch the sky” but when steph first becomes batman and is a teenager she’s pretty fucked up, and i needed this batman steph to be cool & confident. she’s been batgirl for a while. again on batman & cluekid reflecting each other, the other stephs are all 17/18, and cluekid is younger while batman is older.

“Stephanie,” Batman said, her real voice jarring after the modulated one was gone. “I’m you, okay?”

“In an alternate universe, I’m Batman?” the younger Steph whispered.

“Yes,” Batman said, her voice soft and kind of tender. Spoiler wondered what experience she had with kids. She realized that she could have a Robin. “And that’s Batgirl, and Dart, and Canary, and Spoiler. We’re all you.”

“Spoiler?” the younger Steph said, her eyes wide. “Holy fuck.”

“Language,” Batman said.

“I’m thirteen, not a child.” The younger Steph turned and pulled off her backpack. “Look!” She opened it and pulled out a homemade black bodysuit and hooded cape. “Here’s my Spoiler outfit.”

“I’m going to cry,” Batgirl said. Spoiler’s heart was doing something weird, looking at this tiny version of herself wearing Cluemaster orange.

“Oh, yeah, well. Being Spoiler is my biggest secret,” younger Steph said, putting her costume back away.

“Why are you dressed like that, then?” Dart asked.

“Well,” Steph said, drawing out the word. “I thought Dad might, like, kill me if I didn’t say yes when he asked, so I’m Cluekid by day and Spoiler at night. But, uh, I’m working on bringing down the empire from the inside.”

“Empire?” Spoiler repeated.

“Yeah, Dad’s criminal empire,” Cluekid said. “I’m taking it down.”

“Criminal empire?” Batgirl said, sounding shocked.

if all the stephs got transported to cluekid’s world instead, they’d be looking around like “THIS IS THE BAD PLACE!!!!!”

“By yourself?” Batman asked, putting her cowl back on. Cluekid pulled up her bandana.

“Yeah, it’s like…someone’s gotta do it, right?”

“Was anyone else’s Cluemaster, like, vaguely incompentent at best?” Batgirl asked, and Spoiler and Canary rose their hands. “Criminal empire, really?”

“It’s super fun that you guys weren’t Cluekid, but leave me alone about it,” Cluekid said. “My dad’s the real deal.”

“Then what’s your plan for when he finds out you betrayed him?” Batman asked. Cluekid blinked slowly.

“Well,” she said, then she stopped.

“You don’t have a plan,” Dart said knowingly. “I can relate.”

“No, she does,” Batman said, horrified.

“You’re just gonna let yourself die?” Spoiler asked. Cluekid shrugged, her arms going up past her head.

“If I have to!” she cried. “Someone’s gotta take him down and I’m the only one who can!”

cluekid is actually planning on faking her own death at this time, but she doesn’t have all the details worked out yet.

“Dying’s no big D,” Batgirl said. “I do it all the time.”

Everyone turned to face her.

“I mean, once, but that’s like, more than most people do it,” she amended, and Spoiler shook her head.

i think batman!steph comes from a mix of preboot/rebirth, so she’s probably died as well

“Jesus christ,” she said. “I have to get you guys out of here. I’m going to call Drake, and we’re going to find out how to return you guys. Except maybe Cluekid, cause your universe sucks.”

spoiler just wants a chance to call another universe garbage, for a change.

“Yeah, well, your universe has people leaking into it, so it can’t be all that great,” Cluekid shot back, and Spoiler had to admit she had a point.

zing, now everyone’s made fun of rebirth.

While they grappled towards the other end of town, Batman carrying Cluekid and Dart running below them, Spoiler put in a call.

“Batman,” she said. “I have five alternate versions of myself with me.”

“Five Spoilers?” her own Batman asked, his voice gruff.

bruce instantly: [internal screaming]

“Five Stephanies,” she corrected. “A Batgirl, a speedster, a Canary, a kid, and, well. A Batman.”

“Interesting,” Batman said. “Luthor has been apprehended and once I turn off the machine, everyone should return to normal.”

“Okay,” Spoiler said, and Batman disconnected. Spoiler stopped grappling and the group gathered around her. “According to my Batman, you guys should just…go back soon.”

this fic was about conversations between stephanies, not action, which is why i feel like the end is sort of anti-climactic, but whatever. it needed to end, and it did

“It’s been nice getting to know you,” Canary said. “Although really weird.”

“Agreed,” Dart said. “I can’t imagine being a Bat.”

“I wish that would happen to me,” Cluekid said. “But…”

“It’ll be okay, kiddo,” Batman said.

“Hey,” Spoiler said. “Batman, do you have a Robin? You’re pretty good with kids.”

“Yeah,” Batman said, smiling. “Her name is Carrie.”

writing this fic made me think of a “touch the sky” sequel where steph works through the deaths of her siblings and takes in a new robin. we’ll see.

“Hell yeah,” Batgirl said, raising her hand for a fistbump. Batman obliged, and from the corner of her eye Spoiler saw the universe begin folding in on itself.

“Damn, this is me,” Dart said, looking at the wrinkle in the air. It was tied to her leg, so not a difficult conclusion to make. “Well, it’s been nice knowing you ladies. I wish all of you every success–especially you, Lil Steph.”

“Thanks,” Cluekid said, and Spoiler nodded at Dart before she vanished in a puff of purple lightning.

“I’m going to turn on my earplugs,” Canary said. “Who knows what’ll happen when I get back–but anyway, I’m going to be in the dark, hearing-wise.”

“Okay,” Spoiler said, a little confused, and Canary gave everyone a smile.

“It’s been real,” she said, and then she turned on her earplugs. She signed something at them–Spoiler knew only a few signs and couldn’t keep up. Batgirl nodded thoughtfully.

“What’d she say?” Spoiler asked.

“Oh, I have no clue,” Batgirl said. “Come to think of it, the signs me and Cass use aren’t strictly ‘real’ sign language.”

“She said that she turns off her hearing so it’s not damaged by the canary cry,” Batman said. Everyone looked at her. “What? My brother was mute and he had to talk somehow.”

tossed up on the “was” vs “is”, but i wanted damian to get better and i hoped that if any diehard “touch the sky” fans were reading this, they’d see that yeah, he does get better & talk again.

“Brother?” Spoiler repeated, and Batman said, “Damian.”

Damian, mute?

Damian, Steph’s brother?

“I’m leaving,” Canary said loudly, and they turned to face her. She was vanishing just like Dart, and she gave a little wave, then pointed at Batman, who was also disappearing.

“Goodbye,” Batman said, and then she and Canary were gone, leaving Spoiler with Batgirl and Cluekid.

“I’m gonna be real with you guys,” Cluekid said. “I know it’s only been like two minutes but seeing myself, older and with a place in the world….it’s pretty inspiring to think that in another universe I grow up to be Batman.”

“Maybe you still can,” Spoiler suggested, thinking that she didn’t like the idea of this tiny version of herself planning her own death.

“I don’t think so,” Cluekid said, smiling sadly.

“I’ve been through a lot of shit,” Batgirl said. “I’ve even died before. You can’t let any of that stop you, okay? You just gotta push through it.”

“Keep on coming back,” Spoiler said.

“However long it takes,” Batgirl said. Cluekid blinked, tears welling in her eyes, and then she reached for Spoiler and Batgirl, tugging them both into a hug.

i feel like “never give up” is kind of steph’s motto, and that’s universal among stephs.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Spoiler said, ruffling her hair, and then Cluekid was gone.

“Damn,” Batgirl said. “She says she’s inspired by us, but I’m inspired by her. She’s so brave.”

“Yeah, I know,” Spoiler said, her throat sort of rough. “Geez.”

“Well, it’s my turn next,” Batgirl said. “So, uh. Bye? I guess.”

“Have fun in your universe,” Spoiler said. “With Oracle and Supergirl.”

“Oh, I absolutely will,” Batgirl said. “Have fun with….Drake. Seriously, we give you shit, but if he’s good for you–”

“He is,” Spoiler said, trying not to think of their breakups.

“Then that’s all there is to it, isn’t it,” Batgirl said. She grinned, and the air behind her began to fold. “Oh, what timing!”

“Goodbye, Batgirl,” Spoiler said.

“Bye, Spoiler,” Batgirl said. “You know, it’s nice to see that somewhere out there, we’re still in the mantle we created.”

“And it’s nice to see that we’re in a mantle given to us,” Spoiler said, and Batgirl grinned.

“Hell yeah it is,” she said, and then she was gone, and Spoiler was left alone.

She sighed, and kept moving.

spoiler & batgirl are so similar that of course they kinda got along the best….i think canary was supposed to be kind of distant like “oh that’s kinda weird” and then dart was “oh that’s SUPER weird” and then cluekid was “oh my god is she okay” and then batman more like “wow! #afraid to ask how the mantle got passed down to YOU!”

#long post #i did not do a star. i will do some stars l8r

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 5 years

Text

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 3

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle. It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes. With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays. Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3 | Masterlist

—

Malcolm didn’t get a second of sleep that night. After more than an hour tossing and turning in bed, mind racing, he reluctantly reached for his tablet and glasses, turning on the bedside lamp.

A simple Google search turned up hundreds of thousands of articles on inheritance, but none seemed to offer any solutions to receiving the inheritance without meeting the stipulations of the will. He was an old man, perhaps he was going senile? Why would he do this?

He shot off an email to the will executor and solicitor, asking Is it possible he was not in sound mind? Is there a previous version of the will that doesn’t include this marriage requirement?

It was likely a vain hope, but he had to try. Resolving to forget about the marriage idea for the moment, he turned his attention to finding a job posting board. After a few false starts he tried charity administrator openings London, and with a sigh, began reading through the first posting.

No matter what happens, this is going to suck. Thanks a lot, Uncle Wally.

Friday

By the time his alarm went off he was dressed and ready to go, texting Graham to cancel his morning pickup and deciding to take the Underground instead. Pausing just outside the gate and staring up at the townhouse, he realized with a jolt, Everything I have is tied up in the Estate. If I lose this inheritance, I lose everything.

At twenty-seven he’d fled Glasgow before the ink on his divorce papers was dry, bringing Clara to London for a fresh start. His uncle had been kind enough to give him a job working for The Thistle Foundation in the mailroom, and he spent most of the next decade working his way up and earning his keep until Wallace decided to retire, leaving Malcolm in charge. The townhouse went with the Estate, having been owned by the family since shortly after it was built, and he didn’t so much draw a salary from the Foundation as receive a stipend from his uncle.

I’m fifty years old and have almost nothing to my name.

It had always been a given that he would inherit; Wallace had never had children, his only sibling Malcolm’s father, and Malcolm was in effect an only child, his brother having died decades ago. He’d never had to worry about assets, had few personal expenses. To lose the Estate would cost him everything.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

He was so lost in his thoughts he almost missed his stop, barely making it through the doors onto the platform before they closed. Coming up to street-level he looked around, catching sight of the little shop Rose usually got their morning coffees from, only recognizing it by the familiar logo.

Stepping inside, it wasn’t until he was facing the cashier he realized he had no idea what Rose usually ordered. “Erm, hi. I don’t do this, my assistant is usually in here – pretty, blonde, big smile, name of Rose? D’you-”

“Oh, you must be Malcolm!” the girl, Amy, gushed, eyes lighting up. “Of course we know Rose, she’s in here everyday! Oi, Mel, Rose’s regular order, stat!” She turned back to him, finding him blinking at her in surprise. “Always nice to meet a fellow Scot. Rose is great, isn’t she?”

“The absolute best,” he agreed proudly, unsurprised but touched by the impression she obviously left everywhere she went. That’s my gi- that’s Rose. “I’d be hopelessly lost without her.”

“Too right. Anyway, here we are, that’s ten quid,” she passed over two large takeaway cups of coffee and a pastry bag.

Right. Feeling like a moron, entirely out of sorts after first the previous day’s bombshell and then no sleep, he dug out a twenty-pound note and thrust it across the space. “Keep the change. Thanks.”

Picking up the order he made his way to the door, more focused on the drinks than where he was walking, elbowing open the door and slamming right into someone entering. “Shit!” He barely managed to keep hold of everything, coffee sloshing dangerously but only spilling a little, and he looked up to give the person a piece of his mind only to stop dead in surprise. “Oh, fuck me.”

Rose arched one eyebrow in response, a smile flickering over her lips. “I’d rather not get banned from here, if it’s all the same to you, ta.” She plucked one of the cups from his hand, lifting it to her nose before taking a large gulp. “What’re you doing here?”

Stepping out onto the sidewalk they started down the street towards their building, falling naturally into sync.

“I couldn’t sleep, thought I’d come in early. I saw the place, and…” he trailed off, shrugging one shoulder. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she echoed, rolling her eyes. “Clara stopped by, talked my ear off until half two. Decided to just get a move on.”

The silence was awkward, which only served to annoy him; they had always had a good rapport, after the first six or so months once she had settled into her role. Now, eight years later he considered their partnership to be a well-oiled machine, two halves of a whole despite the on-paper power imbalance.

He held the door for her as they entered their building, nodding to the security guards as they buzzed through. Rose hit the button on the lift for their floor, and they rode up alone.

Malcolm followed her to her desk, watching as she flicked on the lights and shrugged off her coat, vaguely curious to her routine; she typically arrived only a few minutes before him- long enough to be settled and ready to face the day, but recent enough that his coffee was always hot and fresh.

“Oh!” she yelped, turning around to see him leaning on the corner of her desk, watching her. “D’you need something? My computer’s still booting up.”

The words hovered on the tip of his tongue, before he sighed, shoulders slumping. “No, I’m good. Just- oh, you know what you’re doing. I’ll be in my office.” Extracting his muffin from the pastry bag he slunk into his office, falling into his desk chair and turning to gaze listlessly out the window.

What am I supposed to do?

It was, quite frankly, the worst day of Rose’s professional career. Things got done, most of her duties able to be completed on autopilot after so long, but she could muster no spark to put into any of it. No banter. None of her signature Rose Tyler charm.

Her computer dinged and she glanced up from where she was poking at her salad halfheartedly to groan. “Oh, you’ve got to be motherfucking shitting me.”

“Rose Tyler!” Malcolm’s delighted voice made her jump and yelp, “I’m so proud of you. That was almost a proper swear.”

“Missy’s on her way up,” she didn’t even look at him, clicking on the IM box from Mickey, the building’s security guard and one of her oldest friends. It was just an emoji, two wide eyes, but it was their code. “What do you want me to do?”

He sighed heavily. “Fine, I’ll see her. I swear, she must have my office bugged or something.”

The lift dinged, and she raised her eyes to glance at him. He looks like he’s having as rough a day as I am. He’d said he hadn’t slept; had it been for the same reason she hadn’t? No, he was probably thinking about the gala. Of course it was about that, dingbat. “I’ll send her in.”

“Thanks.”

He disappeared back into his office as Missy walked in, and Rose had to bite her lip hard to keep from laughing or rolling her eyes. What did he ever see in her? Missy Tucker was without comparison the most extravagant, eccentric person she’d ever met, and that included all of her mother’s rich society ‘friends’.

“Good afternoon, welcome to The Thistle Foundation, do you have an appointment?” Rose asked sweetly, as the older woman approached her desk.

“I’d like to see my husband, please.” Missy’s smile was just as fake-sweet as Rose’s, as they went through the whole song-and-dance. One of the very first things Rose had been taught on her first day, by both Malcolm and her predecessor Jo, was to stall Missy as long as possible, making enough trouble that she didn’t find it worth it to visit the office.

This is your best friend’s mother, this is your best friend’s mother, this is your best friend’s mother, Rose lectured herself, pretending to stare intently at her screen for a moment. ��I can give you a few minutes, but he has a call at one that he can’t miss.”

“Thank you.” And she swept past Rose into Malcolm’s office.

Once the door shut behind her, Rose let loose an undignified snort. Taking a subtle picture with her mobile, she texted it to Clara with the caption Your mum’s here.

Missy Tucker was the subject of ongoing amusement amongst the three; every time she appeared after months of no contact she had an entirely different style, often with a slight tweak to her features suggesting she was a fan of cosmetic surgery. Today her chosen look was that of evil Mary Poppins, complete with a plum-colored ankle-length skirt and matching dress coat, a white dress shirt buttoned to the neck with an elaborate bow, black heeled boots, a delicate hat, and an umbrella Rose would swear was an actual prop from the movie.

She looked ridiculous, and like she would be right at home as the evil orphanage matron in a Victorian version of Annie!

Are you fucking kidding me? Clara pinged back almost immediately. I love my Dad, but God I wish I was adopted. Please tell me I didn’t inherit her fashion sense!

Snickering, Rose shook her head and returned to her work polishing up her resume. At precisely one o’clock she buzzed in on the intercom, using what Clara called her flight attendant voice. “Malcolm, I have that potential donor on line two.”

“Thank you, Miss Tyler.”

A moment later the door opened and Missy stalked out, a murderous expression on her face. “I’ll talk to you soon,” she threatened her ex over her shoulder, ignoring Rose as she stormed towards the lift.

Rose waited until the lift doors closed before rising and entering Malcolm’s office. “So?”

He was lying on his couch with his head back against the cushions, a crystal cut glass of scotch hanging loosely from his hand. “She wants to reconcile, says she’s changed, wants to go back to what we once were.”

“What did you say?” She settled gingerly on the end of the glass coffee table by his head, watching as he opened tired eyes to stare at her.

“That who we were went up in a flaming pile of shit twenty-three years ago when I caught her high in bed with the babysitter on our fifth wedding anniversary. That who we were was a childhood friendship that went too far. That who we were died many, many years ago.”

He looked so sad, Rose’s heart went out to him.

“It’s far, far too late now. A part of me will always miss that, always wonder, but… It’s ancient history. Never mind that this is all because of Wallace’s death and the inheritance. She didn’t say it, but I know her. Anything that even sniffs of money or power and she’s first in line, plotting how to get it.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose offered, giving him a kind smile. “You deserve better than her.”

Sighing, he struggled upright, turning to plant his feet on the ground and set the untouched glass of scotch on the coffee table next to her. “Thanks.”

Their eyes met, and for once, she didn’t blush and look away. Clara’s question from the previous night circled back through her mind, and she let herself actually see him. Ice blue eyes capable of such a coldness shined back, warm and open, something only a privileged few were allowed to see. His strong features could be severe, Clara had once called them attack eyebrows, but when he smiled… his entire face would light up, almost like he was a different person.

She'd always found him attractive, may have had the occasional fantasy involving them, a bottle of wine, and a hot tub, but love?

Her gaze dropped to his lips, and she automatically licked her own. She would be lying if she said she’d never wondered – didn’t everyone, at some point? He drew closer, and she realized that she was leaning in; they were both leaning in. Is this really happening?

Rose’s eyes fluttered closed, her heart pounding, and she could feel his breath against her lips when-

“Dad?”

#bbatcfic #ficandchips #Doctor Who #doctorroseprompts #Human!12xRose #Human!Twelfth Doctor #Rose Tyler #Human AU #AU #The Nuptial Necessity

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raywritesthings · 5 years

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What Have They Lost? 3/?

My Writing Fandom: Arrow, The Flash Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Connor Hawke, Ted Grant, Barry Allen, Iris West, Barbara Gordon, Wally West, Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow, Joe West Pairings: Barry Allen/Iris West, Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel Summary: “I can definitely tell you that there’s a way we’re going to bring [Laurel] back and she’s going to be alive and well. And Flashpoint might have a little bit to do with that.“ -Wendy Mericle AKA: The AU where that wasn’t a blatant lie, and Flashpoint has bigger repercussions for Barry’s friends and allies than he first realized. Notes: Much thanks to @colorofmymindposts for beta-ing as well as to the Lauriver discord server for helping with world-building and character histories. Anyone interested in joining the server should follow this link: https://discord.gg/gp9ANVr *Also can be read on my AO3*

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Damn age getting to him.

As it was, Ted woke on his couch to the sound of a key trying to find the lock and muttered curses. He got to his feet just as Dinah pushed through the door and slammed it behind her, glancing back through the window.

“Alright, we expecting company?”

She looked at him. “Ted, it happened again.”

He sighed. “Okay.”

“I don’t know what it is,” she burst out. “I mean I do, but — I mean, why me, right? Babs is fine, Helena’s fine, and Pam—” she drew up short. “Well, nobody’s really sure what’s wrong with her. But at least it’s consistent.”

“Not getting worse?”

Dinah chewed her lip. “Harley says they’ve had to up her dosage again, or that rash keeps coming back. If that stupid explosion hadn’t knocked her back into that ivy…”

“Or hit you when you were holding the mic?”

“Yeah.” Dinah looked down and sighed. “I just need to, I don’t know, take a breather or something.”

“Stuff’s in your room.”

“Thanks, Ted.” She touched his shoulder distractedly as she made her way down the hall into the spare room she used whenever they stopped here. A few minutes later, he could hear sounds of a familiar melody on the guitar. Ted shook his head.

It wasn’t any wonder she’d gotten worked up and that this whatever-it-was had activated again. Dealing with that washed up excuse for a father, being back here…

He found his phone on the coffee table and went through the recent contacts. His call was picked up after a single ring.

“Hey, Ted.”

“Barbara. You got any time?”

“Yeah. Dad’s got another night shift. He won’t be back for hours.” He could hear fingers clacking away at a computer’s keys rather than a keyboard’s. “What’s up?”

“Dinah’s had another accident. She’s a bit shaken up.”

“Put her on. I’m switching over to video.”

Ted went down the hall and knocked on the door. It wasn’t completely shut, so it swung in a few inches.

“I tried to look for you in the dark water, but I got lost along the way,” Dinah was half-singing, half-saying under her breath. She really wasn’t giving that one up, was she?

“Hey, it’s Barbara.”

Dinah smiled up at him and set the guitar aside. “Thanks, Ted.”

She took the phone and set it up so she and Barbara could each see each other’s faces.

“So what happened?” Barbara never was one to mince words. Probably got it from the old commissioner.

“There were some creeps trying to force a woman into having their sick idea of fun. I didn’t like the look of it, so I said something.”

“And then screamed something, huh?”

“He was running at me. It was, I don’t know, instinct. Something like that.” Dinah dragged a hand back through her hair. “I thought for a second somebody else saw — but nobody was there. I must be getting paranoid.”

“Well, we do need to talk about what to do going forward, Dinah. This clearly isn’t something you can ignore or force to stop happening.”

“I know. But what do you want me to do, announce to the world I’m a metahuman? The Flash would just zip up onto the stage and have me in handcuffs,” Dinah remarked, the humor in her tone only barely masking contempt.

“Who says you have to tell people you’re the metahuman?” Ted asked. Dinah turned towards him and it was clear that Barbara was listening as well. “Nobody knows who the Flash is. That’s why he isn’t in prison.”

Dinah looked back at the phone screen. “What do you think, Babs? You’re the masked crusader expert.”

“Don’t remind me,” Barbara replied with a grimace. “But I do think you need to find a way to separate your identity from the woman who can knock down walls with her voice. If only so the latter can do some good.”

Dinah stood, her arms crossing over her chest. “You sound like dad. He was just reminding me tonight how I used to want to do something for the world with my life.”

“Well, don’t you?”

Ted held his breath, watching and waiting.

“I can barely do enough for myself,” Dinah said. “I’m not some hero, Babs, or even a guy in a bat suit with an ax to grind. I just got dealt a bad hand.”

“And why let that stop you?” Ted asked. “You climbed out of poverty with your music, Dinah. You got yourself out of the foster care system. You’d be free of the abuse if you’d cut the old man off.”

She scoffed.

“I know you feel you haven’t done what you set out to do,” he continued, placing his hands on her shoulders. “But don’t you think you might find out more about yourself if you look to the future instead of the past?”

“I can’t stop looking, Ted,” Dinah said, her eyes wide and pleading.

“And you won’t. But tell me, where did that little girl who snuck into my gym ‘cause she kept getting into scrapes go? Where’d that young lady who kicked guys in the head for harassing women in the crowd go?”

“You know I’d be out there if the answer had come back different,” Barbara offered.

Dinah scowled. “Who cares if Batman said no? You could still do it.”

“Maybe now that I have some money behind me,” Barbara allowed. “But I don’t have the kind of power that accelerator gave you, Dinah.”

“I could hurt someone,” Dinah stated. It was the fear first and foremost in her mind ever since they’d learned what she could do, after all the months of worrying that the accident had stolen her voice. Maybe it had in a way; it was making her hold herself back.

“With the right kind of training, I don’t think so,” Barbara countered. “But that’s gonna take practice, the same as all our other lessons.”

“So where am I supposed to practice? I don’t exactly have my own city lying around somewhere unless you two are surprising me this Christmas.”

“Well, you are home,” Barbara said.

Dinah raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t Star already have a guy?”

Babs shrugged. “Just Green Arrow. Batman never took him that seriously. Thought he liked to make speeches more than get anything done.”

“Forgive me if I don’t hold Batman’s opinion that highly,” Dinah said with a cool tone, “considering he clearly doesn’t know talent when it knocks on his door.”

“Things might have been different,” Barbara said not for the first or probably the last time. “Just my dad being the GCPD liaison with him...it complicates things.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that involved of a discussion with Batman would necessitate you knowing who you were talking to,” Ted remarked.

“Nope, not falling for it, Ted.”

He grinned. “Worth a shot. I really am starting to wonder if I should make the rounds and get these new boys into shape.”

“Yeah right,” Dinah said, some of her old bite back in her voice. “You like us too much to go over to that boys’ club.”

“All the more reason to get you out there, Dinah.”

She sighed, looking down at her guitar. “Just...let me think it over, okay?”

“Sure thing.” He retrieved his phone and headed for the door.

“It’s not that I don’t want to help,” Dinah said before he had quite left. “It just feels like every time I try...someone gets hurt.”

“That’s just the growing pains. But I think you’re ready to fly now, Dinah.”

She nodded once, and Ted shut the door behind him as he left.

“You think I might have pushed too hard?” He asked Barbara, who had stayed on the line.

“She doesn’t think she’s the right person to be a hero,” Barbara said. “But that’s exactly why she is.”

“Right you are, Babs. Think I’ll go air out the old gym here. We might be needing it soon. You feel like joining in?”

“Give me two weeks. I promised my father we’d spend some time together.” Barbara gestured around the empty apartment she currently sat in. “You can see how that’s going.”

“Well, you hang in there. We’re gonna get you your chance, too.”

“Thanks, Ted.”

He hung up and smiled to himself. Much as he liked his role with the band, he was looking forward to being a teacher again.

—-

Combing through the old family papers was easier said than done. Back when he’d first returned from the island, he had found out that they’d all been boxed up and stored in a warehouse. Walter had been meticulous about the organization of it all, but Oliver had just gotten out what was necessary to declare himself alive again and then looked for a new place to live. Even if the old Manor hadn’t been sold, he couldn’t have gone back there. Too many empty rooms.

Now, he was looking for something entirely unrelated to him, something among his mother’s things. He had to stop every now and then, smiling with watery eyes at her handwriting or an old photo. She’d kept every one of his school pictures, notating them on the back: Oliver, 6th grade.

God, why’d she let him have that hair?

Eventually, he came across an old lock box. Walter must not have touched it beyond moving it here, though he clearly hadn’t found the key.

Oliver looked up at the ceiling. “Sorry, mom.” He broke the lock.

Inside were a number of yellowing papers, some looked to be about financial matters while others were of a more personal nature.

There was also a checkbook tied to an account number Oliver didn’t recognize, nor was it from their family bank. It recorded monthly payments to one of the local orphanages, up until the last month before they all got on the Gambit.

Heart thumping in his ears, Oliver reached a birth certificate at the bottom of the stack of papers. Mia Dearden, was the name given to the child, born January 21st, 1995. She was ten years younger than him. He had a kid sister?

There was a photo paper-clipped to the back of a tiny baby sleeping in a nursery. It was irrational, maybe, but he felt a fierce longing for this tiny life he’d never known.

But he should have. How had his parents kept this from him?

The birth certificate was from a hospital whose name he didn’t recognize. A quick search on his phone showed that it was out of state. He tried to remember that year. Had his mother been away on a trip? Had she hidden the pregnancy that way? His father’s name wasn’t on the certificate. Did that mean…?

There was nothing to indicate if his father had known, or what he had thought if he had. But there had to be some reason Mia Dearden hadn’t been raised alongside him in their home. Never mind that his mother must have purposefully brought her back to the city and kept up payments that must have seen the orphanage well outfitted. At least until 2007.

She would have been twelve, or around that age, Oliver realized. What had happened to her after? Would the orphanage know? Had she found another family, someone to provide the love and care his parents had either been unwilling or unable to give?

“Dad?”

Oliver looked up from his desk, spotting Connor in the shadows by the door. It had gotten late, and the single lamp he had on was the only source of light in the room.

“Hey. Sorry. I got, uh, caught up with all this. You eat yet?”

“Did you?”

Fair enough question. Oliver set the birth certificate and the photo of his baby sister aside, standing up. “Okay, what do we want? Chicken? Chicken tacos? Think we still have some wraps.”

“We could order a pizza,” Connor suggested. “You look tired.”

Oliver looked down. His son was probably right; he’d been at this for three days now, only stopping for meals or to go out on patrol.

“Okay. You pick the toppings.”

They settled out in the main room to wait after Oliver called the order in. He looked Connor over during the silence. He had failed to be the father this boy should have had for the first several years of his life, and now he was finding that was an all too common mistake of his when it came to family. Even if he really had been a kid in the case of Mia Dearden.

“So,” Connor began, “what did you find out?”

Oliver grimaced. “Uncle Barry was right. Sort of, anyway.”

Connor’s eyes were wide, in excitement or worry he couldn’t tell. “So there is a Thea Queen?”

“I don’t know about her, but my mother had a daughter she never told me about. Her name’s Mia,” Oliver said, his voice cracking slightly on the name. He cleared his throat. “Mia Dearden. She has mom’s maiden name.”

“How come your mom never told you?”

“Well, if I had to guess...my parents were partners in the business sense. They built the old company together, as equals. But in their relationship, it wasn’t exactly like that.”

Connor nodded sagely. “She had an affair.”

“Seems that way. Not exactly the best example us Queens are setting for you. Don’t get any ideas,” Oliver quipped when Connor made a face. He was definitely glad that his son still seemed uninterested in the dating scene, and prayed it would last at least a little longer.

“What are you gonna do about Mia?”

That was a question he hadn’t let himself contemplate yet. “She’s a young woman now. Probably out on her own. I don’t know how happy she’d be to learn the truth now.”

“But you wanna meet her.”

It was remarkable how well the kid could read him.

“It’s hard not to wonder. How different would things have been, you know? The way Barry was talking...it sounded like he thought she’d be here.”

What would it have been like to return after those five years to family, to someone he knew had missed him and cared about him? Someone who could’ve been the listening ear he’d needed when Connor had first arrived, who could’ve helped him.

“You know, she’s not the only one Uncle Barry thought should be around.” Connor’s voice pulled him out of that wondering, and when he looked up his son was grinning. “How are you supposed to know the lead singer of one of the hottest bands in the country?”

Oliver shook his head. “That’s maybe the one thing hardest to buy.”

He’d been vaguely aware of his parents’ infidelity. The idea that one of them had had a child in that context was not unthinkable. But where would his path have met up with someone like Dinah?

Barry had said something about the team. “Laurel’s still — I mean, Dinah. Dinah’s still…”

Still what? Singing? Way out of Oliver’s league? Barry had been worried about Thea’s — or Mia’s — existence. Had something about Dinah not been right? And who was Laurel?

A knock at the door interrupted them, and Oliver got up to get their food and tip the delivery man. When he came back over to the couch, Connor held up his phone. It was displaying a social media page of some sort. He could never keep the sites straight.

“Think this could be our Mia Dearden?”

The profile picture was of a young woman with short brown hair and delicate features, almost like a pixie if he had to put a word to it. But her eyes...those were his mother’s eyes.

“Says she’s a bartender on 4th and Wells in the Glades,” Connor continued. “We could go check it out?”

A part of Oliver wanted to throw his coat on and take the elevator down to the lobby right now. But he looked down at Connor.

“Are you sure? I still feel like you and I are figuring out how we work together now, and this would be a lot. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pushed aside in favor of the next surprise relative I have.”

Connor put his phone away. “I came to Starling to get to know my family. All of it. If this lady is your sister, then that makes her my aunt. I’ve never had one of those.”

Oliver felt himself smile. Trust his kid to look on the bright side.

“And anyway, it’s not like you’d just forget about me,” Connor joked half-heartedly. There was only the slightest hint of vulnerability there, but it was enough for Oliver to read.

He dropped a knee onto the couch and wrapped his son in a hug. “No. Never.”

They settled back in to enjoy their pizza, another night as father and son. Maybe in a week or so, they might have more company. Oliver eyed the armchair across from the couch, trying to imagine the small girl in the photo sitting there. Would she be happy to join them?

Barry had been right about his sister. Could he really be right again about Dinah? Oliver sent Connor to bed and went back to his office, shifting his mother’s old things aside to unearth his computer keyboard. He scrolled through articles and photos alike.

No one knew the woman’s full name. It was likely she came from Gotham, as the rest of her bandmates had. And Gotham was hardly his territory.

But the more he stared at her photo, he thought he should know her. Was it the old paranoia, the placebo effect resulting from Barry’s words, or was there something more than wishful thinking to his wondering if those lips had smiled up at him once before?

—-

Barry sat on the information he had about Dinah for a few days, nervously turning it over in his head. The trouble was, he didn’t really know who to go to.

If he alerted the police, they wouldn’t really be prepared for the kind of power that sonic scream held. If he went to Oliver and his team, he wasn’t sure what they would think. He’d already probably said way too much to Oliver in his distress.

Truthfully, Barry wasn’t sure what to make of this new version of his friend. Oliver wasn’t as different as some of the others had been in the Flashpoint timeline, but there seemed to be a subtle sort of change to him hard to pin down. And Barry just didn’t know if he should trust this Oliver to handle something like a Black Siren. If that was even what they were dealing with.

It was up to his team, as Iris kept nudging him into realizing over the week. They knew how to manage a metahuman, even if the weapon they’d used against Siren wouldn’t work against a Laurel of this Earth. But he needed Cisco and Caitlin’s help if he was going to brainstorm a backup.

With some trepidation, Barry entered the lab that afternoon to the now-familiar sounds of Laurel’s voice on the speakers. Since learning Barry had next to no knowledge of Birds of Prey, Cisco had taken it upon himself to play the band’s entire discography, along with anything and everything he could find with Dinah’s vocals attached. This particular song didn’t even sound like rock at all, come to think of it.

“Uh, dude?”

Cisco swiveled around in his chair and seemed to understand Barry’s confused point up towards the ceiling at the music.

“Oh, hey. Yeah, this was released a year or so after the accident, all studio-recorded. She did an album of the Great American songbook sort of stuff, sort of for the slower crowd, you know? People still went nuts over it.” Cisco’s sigh had a dreamy quality to it as he added, “She could sing the phone book.”

“Is everything alright, Barry?” Caitlin asked, watching him carefully. He must not have hidden his nerves as well as he hoped.

Joe came through into the cortex, followed by Wally, and he knew it was now or never. He was going to need his team behind him for this, however willing they were to be.

“Okay. Guys, um, I really hate to bring this up again, but we’ve got to talk about Flashpoint.”

Immediately Cisco’s shoulders hunched, and Caitlin grimaced. Joe shifted a bit on his feet. Wally alone seemed ready to talk.

“Alright, what about it?”

“It’s not really to do with anything here,” Barry was quick to reassure. “Not exactly. It’s...it’s the Arrow Team.”

The others looked at each other. “They’ve been affected? How?” Caitlin asked.

“Well,” Barry hesitated, looking to Iris for support. She gave him an encouraging nod. “It’s about Dinah from Birds of Prey,” he admitted.

“Oh no, what did you do to her?” Cisco immediately said.

“I — nothing! I mean, it’s confusing, but she is different because of the timeline changing, yeah,” Barry admitted. “I tracked her down the other night and saw her knock a guy down with sonic waves. From her mouth.”

There was a long beat of silence as the others digested that bit of news. As before, Cisco was first to react.

“Dinah from Birds of Prey is a meta? Barry, this is the best news you’ve given us in forever!”

“No, not great news. Because we’ve already met a Laurel — I mean Dinah — who was a meta, and she was evil. Does nobody remember Black Siren from Earth-2?” Barry looked around but received mostly quizzical looks from the group. He should’ve expected it; Cisco would’ve said something if the rockstar he idolized had a double he’d met.

“So, you’re worried that this timeline’s Dinah is also evil,” Joe surmised.

“I don’t know,” Barry admitted. “I mean, when I saw her use her powers, it was to help this other woman. But then what’s her goal long-term? I’ve seen her powers in action when Siren used them. They’re powerful.”

“Tell them about Laurel,” Iris spoke up unexpectedly. “The one you knew, Barry.”

“Who’s Laurel?” Caitlin asked. “And why do you keep correcting yourself by calling her Dinah?”

“Because that’s how I knew her before. How we all knew her. As Laurel.” Barry looked around the room, watching their intrigued but otherwise blank faces. Not for the first time, he wished somehow he had the power to show them what they had once lived along with him rather than just tell them. But he couldn’t.

“Dinah Laurel Lance was the ADA of Star City, and at night she was part of the Arrow Team as a vigilante called the Black Canary.”

“That’s her real name? Dinah Lance?” Wally asked.

“Uh, yeah.” Barry blinked, though it occurred to him a moment later that in this timeline he’d had yet to hear anyone else use her full name. Thea — or Mia — had even been surprised to learn who Laurel’s father was. What was Dinah’s story, really? What could’ve had such an effect on her past?

“She- she died last spring. Before Flashpoint. There was a sorcerer they were fighting, and he killed her. But now none of that ever happened.” Barry was aware he was pacing, but he couldn’t really stop himself. “She’s a singer instead of a lawyer, Oliver and the others don’t know her, Oliver’s son showed up a whole year early and is Connor—”

“Whoa, what’s wrong with my man Connor?” Cisco demanded.

“Nothing, just, you know, he’s different! Oliver had a whole different kid named William who apparently doesn’t exist anymore!”

“Oh, Barry,” Caitlin sighed, disapproval inlaid in every syllable.

“I know,” he ground out. “This is not good. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

“Don’t.”

The single word came from Cisco, and Barry blinked in surprise. “Don’t?”

“Yeah. Trying to ‘fix’ things was what caused you to mess everything up in the first place. So just live with it like the rest of us.” His friend stood and walked out of the cortex, likely heading for his workroom.

“Cisco’s right, Barry,” Caitlin added. “Your time travel never seems to put anything back fully the way it was. It’s better for you to just leave it alone.” She, too, turned away. He could tell by the look on Joe’s face that he was thinking something similar, even if he’d probably say it in a gentler way.

Barry looked to Iris. “We still need to be prepared to deal with- with Dinah if she’s more like her Earth-2 counterpart was.”

“Give the others some time, Bear,” was her advice. “You’ve just dumped a lot of information on them. It’s going to take some time to process.”

“We’ll be ready when it counts,” Wally added with a confidence Barry wished he felt. “And hey, maybe she is on our side.”

“Maybe.” Barry sunk down into Cisco’s abandoned chair and felt Iris walk up behind him, her hands massaging at his shoulders.

“We could start with some recon,” Wally was suggesting, using Joe as a sounding board just as much as he was using Barry and Iris. “Most of the band’s from Gotham.” Wally snapped his fingers. “Maybe Batman knows her!”

Barry’s head lifted sharply in bewilderment. “Bat-who?”

At the same time, Joe gave a sharp shake of the head. “Oh, hell no. Not that nut job.”

For someone extremely used to the feeling of deja vu, Barry seemed destined to find himself unaccountably lost.

#lauriver #westallen #laurel lance #oliver queen #barry allen #arrow #the flash #iris west #ted grant #barbara gordon #connor hawke #cisco ramon #wally west #caitlin snow #joe west #laurel x oliver #green arrow #black canary #my writing

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cygnetofthesea · 5 years

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Evolution: WA AU

When his girlfriend is diagnosed with a terminal illness, award-winning scientist, Barry Allen fights to find a cure to save her. Little did he know there would be dire consequences. He wasn’t a God, but he would be damned if he let her die. Scientist Barry and Ballerina Iris.

On AO3

For a moment time slowed down and there was only the sound of his heartbeat thumping his ear. His grip on Iris was the only thing that tethered him to reality and kept the panic at bay. There was no time for panic when her life was on the line.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound of gunshots whirred through the narrow hallway and Barry pushed Iris ahead of him as they rounded the corner. His pulse thrumming, he blindly shot his gun, the force of the pushback jarring. He was only a scientist and up until two days ago, he'd never even held a gun let alone used one.

But things had gotten out of control and he was left with little option. He'd do anything to keep Iris safe.

And some may argue that was his fatal flaw and why they were here, but if it meant saving Iris and keeping her with him, he'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

You're not a God, Barry.

Her words echoed in times of stress. Every time a serum didn't work, or he hit a roadblock in his research, her words were a whisper in his mind. But they never assuaged him and only drove him to fight for her harder. He may not have been God, but he was a scientist. An award-winning one at that, but what point was it when he couldn't use his expertise for good? For her?

He had to do something. He was going to lose the love of his life and even though she looked as strong and healthy as she could, he could see the signs that she was withering away. It was subtle and only the trained eye would be able to spot the difference and his trained eyes saw it from the beginning.

The doctors said they would try everything they could, but Barry could see it in their eyes. There was little hope she'd make it to the end of the year. But, it' didn’t matter. Everyone could give up on her — hell, even Iris could give up on herself — but he'd be damned before he did. He already lost enough in his life and he refused to let her be one more thing because he knew he wouldn't survive this.

He refused to imagine a future where Iris didn’t exist and in the moments he's witnessed her getting sick over the toilet or falter while practicing her ballet routine, it was a stab in his heart. It was a reminder that even though he didn’t want to face reality, the reality was staring at him in the face.

Those moments lead to sleepless nights in the lab, searching for something--anything.

A breakthrough came about when a dying orangutan sprang to life exactly 14 hours after being injected with Sample 301. Barry spent the next 12 hours checking and rechecking his vitals and sending samples to his trusted colleagues. Jesse Quick and Cisco Ramon knew about Iris and while they repeated her words to him, they continued to aid his quest to find a cure. They were steered by their own love for Iris, but they were scientists at heart too. Finding a cure to a terminal illness would make them a legend in medical history.

Little did they know, someone else had been lurking in the midst, just as intrigued by the possibilities. Just as desperate for a revolutionary scientific discovery.

You're not a God, Barry.

He had plans to wait until he could run a few more trials but then the sight of Iris collapsing on stage made his heart stop in his chest and it was a fear unlike anything he had ever known. Paralyzing, dizzying.

He couldn’t even remember running to the stage. All he knew was one moment she was performing a pirouette and the next her face paled before her body crumpled to the ground. And then she was in his arms. He was frantically calling out for her, the sounds around him fading until there was only a ringing in the air and heavy beat of his heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The ambulance ride was the longest of his life and he fought just to breathe. The EMTs offered a sedative, but all he could focus on was her. The site of the oxygen mask taking over the better part of her beautiful face. Her face that looked so pale and grey, matching the fabric of her dress.

"Iris," he rasped, his hands squeezing hers. Her hand felt so small and frail and he had to work to calm his nerves.

By the time she woke up and the doctor walked into her room, Barry had felt a numbness that came with resolve. It didn't matter what the doctor said at that moment — it was written on her face — and Barry knew what he had to do. Screw waiting for the third trial.

He didn't bother looking at the doctor as she spoke the words that would have cemented his heart if Iris wasn't laying there right beside him. He turned to look at Iris instead, willing her to see the resolve in his eyes, willing her to understand that he would never let anything happen to her.

He watched Iris's eyes fill with tears as the doctor gently informed them that her body was weakening and it may be wise to make arrangements. Barry doesn't acknowledge the doctor and instead squeezes Iris's hand to catch her attention. He feels the burn in his nose but refuses to let her seem him break down.

"It's ok, baby" he whispers. "I'm not letting anything happen to you."

It was later that night when she was wrapped up in a blanket on the couch after he set aside her medicine that he brought the serum to her.

"What is it?" she said, eyeing it warily.

"Ever since we found out the diagnosis, I've been working on something. A cure."

Iris didn't say anything for a long moment, her eyes frozen on the serum. Slowly, she moved to sit up, struggling to steady herself. He gently guided her to sit against the pillows.

"Barry," she finally said, her voice hoarse. "What do you mean a cure?"

Barry got up from his kneeled position and sat beside her. He took her face in his hands and looked in her in the eyes.

"Iris, I'm not ready to lose you. I'll never be." His voice broke just as his heart twisted in his chest. He shows her the serum again. "I've had two successful trial runs, Iris. This serum brought two dying orangutans back to full health. They were infected with the same — "

"Wait, what? Barry, this is what you've been working on all this time? All that you spent at the lab was because of me?"

Barry couldn't read the expression on her face and his stomach was in knots.

"I-I didn't want to tell you what I was doing because I didn't want to get your hopes up. I didn't know if it was possible, but Iris, baby, I'm telling you, this could be something."

Iris looked down at the serum, shaking her head softly. "Honey. You're not a God, Barry. This isn't your responsibility, this isn't your burden to carry--"

"How can you say that Iris?" he burst out. "What do you expect me to do? Just accept the fact that you're-that you're…" He can't let himself think the words, let alone speak them out loud. "No. I can’t and I won't."

When she doesn't say anything, Barry pushed on.

"Please, Iris, please. The doctors aren't…it's not like they offered any solution. This could save you."

"How do you know it'll work on me? What if I get worse?"

"Baby, they're telling us…" he trailed off, choking on the words. With his heart thumping, eyes watering, Barry fights to get the words out. "They're saying that you won't even make it to the end of the month."

He let out a muffled sob as a traitorous tear slid down his eye. Iris cups his cheek, wiping away the tear as she closed her eyes. He could tell the exhaustion was getting to her and soon she would no longer be able to sit up straight.

He leaned in until their foreheads touched. "Please, Iris, please."

It's all he can do. Plead with her, plead to some higher power that she stays with him because existing in a world without her just wasn't an option.

"I need to think about it," she finally whispered.

It wasn't the answer he was looking for, but it had to be enough. For now, at least.

Three days later when Wally brought Iris home after she vomited blood, Iris finally relented. The stricken face on her baby brother's face seemed to have steered her. After their father died two years before, it was just them and Wally had no one else in his life beside his sister.

And Barry. Had she truly been ready to leave him behind? So many unfulfilled dreams stared her in the face every time he looked at her with his soft, sea-green eyes, framed by those lashes she loved so much and made her weak. Lashes that she envisioned on a baby girl or boy.

When she whispered her dreams to him as he helped her change out of her clothes, Barry's heart broke all over again. He didn't think it was possible to feel any more pain, so worn from the heartache, but hearing her fight through labored breaths to tell him of her dreams with him, Barry wanted to crumble in her arms.

But there would be time for them to rest in each other's embrace. For now, he needed to save Iris.

He looked at her in the eyes, asking her one last time if she was sure and when she nodded, he quickly struck her vein with the needle. He watched as the serum dispensed into her vein until the clear tube was empty. He tossed aside the syringe and took her in his arms.

"Iris?"

His voice hushed and shaky, Barry watched as Iris's eyes fluttered closed. He took her in his arms, holding her close as he checked her pulse.

"Iris, open your eyes for me. Just for a little bit, please, look at me."

When she finally opened her eyes, he could see her pupils expand before a ring of light surrounded her iris. And in a blink, it was gone.

"Iris?"

She looked up at him, her head resting against his shoulder. "Barry."

In exactly fourteen hours, he began to see the changes in her. And so did Cisco and Jesse.

"Oh my god, it actually worked," Jesse breathed. "Iris, how do you feel?"

Iris sat upright, looking up at them with an astonished smile. "I-I feel great," she said shrugging. "Strong."

Barry let out a breath, caressing her cheek. "You look great," he said, marveling at her.

The grey, sallow hue that had taken over her skin the last few months were gone and instead, her normal, deep brown skin was back. God, he had missed the sight. She was glowing, glowing in a way that he had never seen before.

For a moment he forgot they had company as he let his hands roam over her skin, still reveling that she was there with him. It was just yesterday she was in her arms, looking like the life was leaving her before his eyes.

She turned to nuzzle against his touch, bringing her own hand to stroke his cheek before letting it get lost in his thick hair. "You brought me back," she whispered.

He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth in his chest spread through his body.

The sound of throat clearing penetrated their bubble and they pulled apart to sheepishly look over at Cisco.

"So, since the preliminary check-ups look all good, I think we can hold off on testing the blood sample," Cisco said with a smile. "I'll just take it to the lab and see what I find."

"Thank you. The both of you."

Jesse smiled. "I'm just happy you're ok, Iris. Now, we'll get out of your hair."

Barry barely waited for them to leave the room before he pulled Iris into tight embrace. He let out a shaky breath before capturing her lips and kissing her with all the pent up passion. It had been a long while since they were able to do more than just a gentle peck as her health dwindled. And watching her wither away before him, his libido was the last thing on his mind.

But having her in his arms and feeling the strength in her body that he hadn't felt in such a long time, he let himself hold her tighter and tighter against him.

"Barry," she said breathlessly, her hands clutching him. "Is this real? Am I really ok?"

He peppers kisses across her face. "I'm going to make sure of it, baby. I'm never letting anything happen to you."

And as he made love to her that night, savoring every touch, every gasp, the heat of their bodies melding against each other over and over again, he vowed that they would have many more nights like this.

Then strange things started happening.

It wasn't long before Barry discovered there was something unusual about Iris's blood. How quickly and abnormally they were replicating. He had been carefully monitoring her vitals and everything was seemingly ok. Until Iris complained of frequent migraines. It was enough to concern Barry, who had been diligently monitoring her vitals, but then the lights started flickering inexplicably every time it got worse.

And then things started moving on their own. Objects would fly across the room and it wasn't long before they realized it was Iris. Somehow, some way, she was able to move things with her mind, whether it was retrieving a mug from the top shelf or turning the hands on the clock.

“Barry, what’s happening to me?” Iris whispered, looking down at her hands.

Barry took her hands in his and kissed them tenderly. He had no idea what was happening to her, but he could see the fear in her watery eyes, feel it in her trembling hands. So, he cleared his throat and softly comforted her.

“It’s ok, Iris, it’s ok. You’re going to be fine, I promise,” he soothed even as his own heart thumped in uncertainty.

“But, what is this? How is this possible?”

“I don’t know, it must be a side effect from the cure. But it’s ok, Iris, you’re safe and we’re going to figure this out.”

He pulled her into his arms, holding her securely as her body quivered.

“Am I dangerous?” she asked softly against his shoulder.

“No.” Sure as he was of anything, Iris was anything but dangerous. “But we can’t tell anyone about this, ok? We have to keep this under the radar until we can figure this out.”

Little did they know someone had been watching them all the while. Eobard Thawne made himself known after Iris miraculously stopped a car from careening into a pair of children riding their bicycles. The coast had been clear as far as they knew and even so, no one could have known that Iris stopped the car with her mind. That it was sheer willpower that kept those kids from being run over as Iris stood on the sidewalk just a few yards away.

But apparently, Thawne had been there and felt the energy radiating from Iris. He visited their home in the hopes of recruiting Barry to work for him so they could study the mutation taking place in Iris's genes. The slow, barely perceptible changes in her DNA that were caused by a serum that no longer existed. Barry didn’t even consider his offer of bringing Iris into Thawne’s lab. There were only two others he trusted to take care of her beside him and Eobard Thawne was not among them. A reputable scientist he may be, but this was Iris’s life and he wasn’t just going to hand her over like a lab rat. He would take care of her himself.

He would never tell Iris, but there was a sickening guilt that was starting to bleed into him. Perhaps, he had spared her from death, but had he forsaken her to a worse fate?

But as he looked at Iris’s healthy face, the hollowness from her eyes gone and replaced with light, he couldn’t regret creating the serum. He would do it all over again just to have her safe in his arms. To touch her, to kiss her soft skin, to hear her gasps as they make love, to feel her on him...and to feel her heart beat healthy and strong against his heart that beat for her.

You're not a God, Barry.

The moment they realized Thawne would stop at nothing to get to Iris and Barry's creation, they destroyed everything before making a run for it. Perhaps it was rash to run from danger, but in a desperate moment in which Iris was almost taken and Barry was almost shot, they didn't take another second to ponder their circumstances.

It was fight or flight and they chose flight until it was safe enough. They had planned to leave in the middle of Iris's dress rehearsal for her show to ward off suspicion, but Thawne had eyes everywhere and now they were here, running for their lives with his men at their heels.

"Barry, we can't run forever," Iris panted as they ran another corner.

She held his hand back before he could move. Barry heaved as he fought to get oxygen into his lungs, holding onto Iris's hand tightly.

"Iris, we can't stop. I am not going to let anything happen to you. "

Another shot fired toward them and his heart leaped in his chest. He tugged on her hand.

"Barry, wait," she said, looking at him with wide eyes. "I can-I can stop them."

She shook her hand out of his grip and stepped back around the corner to face the barrage of bullets. Panic surged through him as he ran to step in front of her.

"Iris, wait!"

But his rush to protect her was all for naught. As though hitting an invisible wall, the bullets stopped mid-air right in front of them before clattering to the ground. Eobard Thawne stood in front of his team, a taser gun in his hand.

"Oh my god," he marveled.

You're not a God, Barry.

He watched as Iris held out her hand, an undeniable energy pulsing from her body to her hand. The walls on either side of them tremored until cracks spread across the once smooth surface. Eobard's eyes widened, backing away.

Iris twisted her hand into a fist, a concentrated look on her face. And with one last tug of her hand as though pulling on an invisible string, the walls came down, crumbling between them until they could no longer see the stricken face of their enemy.

You're not a God, Barry.

But perhaps he had created one. And it was the love of his life.

#Westallen #WA AU #Westallen AU #Westallen Fanfic #WA Fanfiction #HeroSavesPeople #at this point I don't even care about editing #I'm trying to save the frustration that comes with that on my WIP bc I'm beginning to hate it

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fullmetaldevil-blog · 6 years

Text

Batim Stitched AU CH. 5

Well here we are with ch. 5 (finally). Though there are some points that are slightly disturbing but not excessively graphic (PG 13 mostly)

like previous chapters as I’m able I’ll be incorporating artworks into the story.

On with the Show~

A Dancing Demon and A Distraught Devil

Tom slowly rose from his bed quietly groaning with each movement, his body protesting the stress he has been subjected to. He glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping figure next to him and a faint smile graced his features. He slowly and carefully extended a hand and brushed away a few stray strands of hair from Allison's sleeping face. Tom wanted nothing more then to give his wife a great big hug shouting and cheering, but he wouldn't celebrate until the ink machine was running and Joey wasn't breathing down his throat anymore. he quietly got dressed grunting and groaning the entire time, his body had enough of him beating it into the ground and wanted rest. He silently chanted a mental mantra 'just a few more hours', just a few more hours', he would have to survive a few more hours then he would be able to catch up on all the sleep he could ever want. Tom grabbed his work coat and car keys and headed out the door, he figured he could grab a quick 5¢ burger and penny coffee for breakfast. Again. He quietly longed for Allison's early morning breakfasts where he would be graced with anything from warm pancakes to sausages and hash browns. The little mantra resurfaced in his mind while he stopped at the local diner and got his breakfast, 'just a few more hours'.

Tom drove down the road towards Joey Drew Studios and his thoughts drifted to his journey to this point. The beginning of the week the experimental ink machine was completed after weeks of planning and building. The frosting on the cake was the darn thing actually worked! It even made a living toon on the first try, but Joey had to ruin that by attacking and killing the innocent creature. Tom truly felt bad for the little toon, it didn't ask to be made and was killed for looking different. Then to add insult to injury Joey threatens his wife's life if the machine isn't working properly and produces a perfect toon. Tom gritted his teeth at the memory of the verbal exchange with Joey. He silently wished that Bendy would turn against Joey and bring about his ruin in some fashion, but not at the expense of the toon's life. He already hated the loss of one toon he couldn't bear the thought of another being killed for no reason. Tom gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as the only thought that ran through his mind is that 'the nightmare is almost over' as he saw the outline of the studio coming into view.

Tom barely got out of his car when he spied a annoyingly familiar sight. Joey Drew. The studio director was standing in the doorway of the studio staring directly at Tom. The mechanic couldn't help but mentally question if Joey doesn't have a home to go home to since the man always seemed to be at the studio. Tom decided to grin and bear it for a bit longer and approached the entrance with Joey ready and waiting for him.

“Morning Mr. Drew” Tom spoke through clenched teeth on a fake smile he plastered on his face.

“And a good morning to you too Mr. Connor. Today we will make dreams come true.” Joey happily placed his hand on Tom's shoulder and showed the man inside either ignorant or ignoring the mechanic's fake attitude. Tom took Joey's actions as a good sign that the director was in a good mood and felt it was best not to fight the man at this point, it was safer to go with the flow rather then go against it.

Joey lead Tom to the ink machine room for him to begin the initial checks and preparation prior to the rest of the GENT staff arriving. Joey left Tom to his own devices and made a hasty retreat to the depths of the studio, the sounds of his foot steps and cane disappearing down the halls. With a clipboard in hand, Tom drifted about the base of the machine checking and double checking nuts and bolts making sure the primary pipes that fed the machine were secure. Once he double checked each nut personally with his own wrench finding that he had to tighten a few that Wally claimed he had secured, he started checking the two backup pipes. He knew the machine only needed the four central pipes to operate but he liked having the backup just in case something happens to the primary set. Tom gently crawled under the machine and ran his wrench over each bolt on the back ups making sure that all was secured.

With all the pipes checked and secured Tom checked the gauges ensuring they could handle the pressure they would soon be subjected to and hoped that Wally had remembered his lecture about how to handle the machine if it's pressure exceeds a certain number. Though he was quietly thankful wally was not around to bumble over the simplest of tasks. The last thing he needed was for something to get ruined and potentially cause a malfunction and end up with something that is far worse then just the image of a cartoon devil. Tom shook his head slightly, those thoughts were the last thing he needed on his mind. He needed to stay focused and make sure everything went off without a hitch. Though he found the strange circular patterns that Joey drew all over the machine and on the floor at it's base distracting. They were an eyesore and took away from the machine itself. Joey called them 'decoration' but while Tom wasn't an interior designer he knew the primary focus should be on the machine and not the strange children's drawing all over the place.

Tom spent quite a bit of time checking and double checking the ink machine making sure every nut, bolt, rivet, gauge and pipe were all in place and ready to go. The bustling of the rest of the GENT staffs arrival was the only relief he got and briefly sat down relaxing ever so slightly while the team rechecked everything and filtered throughout the studio checking all the machines inner workings and veins. While he relaxed Tom looked at the machine in it's entire. The massive boxy mechanism with a single nozzle with pipes that encased the studio, it was like a strange heart. The machine itself made dull throbbing sounds when ink was filtered through it on a low pressure and the throbbing eerily was at the same pace as a heart beat. The ink that flowed through it was it's blood that provided life to a mechanism that was designed to make life. Tom chuckled at the irony, creating a machine that imitated the proof of life with it's heartbeat to make life. He knew full well that despite Joey's claims it was only an illusion, the life he saw was real.

Tom momentary relaxation didn't last long until he saw Joey striding up to him with that eager gleam in his eye and sporting a bag. Tom inwardly groaned, it was the bag containing the 'sacrifices' that Joey had added onto the machine to operate. He seriously couldn't help but question why Joey insisted on having 6 items from the different departments being used as “keys” to turning on a machine when a simple throw of a switch yielded the same results. “Ugh, Someone is eager.” Tom rolled his eyes, sarcasm rolling off him in waves.

“You should be too, Mr. Connor. Our dreams are about to come true and we'll be famous.” Joey walked over to Tom resting his arm on Tom's shoulder as he waved towards the ink machine. “Think of all the people who would line up to see living toons, the joy on the children's faces at seeing their favorite characters physically in front of them rather then on a silver screen. To be able to shake their hands, hug them, talk to them and to play with them. It all begins here and it will be greatest moment in our studio's history” Joey's grin growing wide and his eyes held a bright gleam of enthusiasm. All his efforts aren't for naught and he will be able to salvage his studio from near bankruptcy and will rise up to quash all his competition. He, Joey Drew director of Joey Drew Studios will sit upon the throne of a glorious empire.

Tom didn't say a word while he listened to his bosses sickeningly sweet words. He could only wonder how many people where fooled by honeyed words from Joey, the mans 'golden smile and silver tongue' luring people to false promises. He now knew that all this effort from him, his staff, hell even everyone in the studio, it was all for Joey's benefit. None of them were having their dreams come true. Many were hired on with the gift of a dream job, only to find that it was bitter, cold and merely a foot hold for someone else. He silently cursed his own horrid luck with getting tangled with Joey, but he hoped that this would be the last thing he does for the man then he will take a page from Wally's book and 'get outta here'.

“Sir!” A GENT staffer ran up to Tom and Joey. “All checks have been completed, and all the staff are reporting that all systems are a go.”

Tom was about to speak when he was interrupted by joey “ Good show man, now you all should go home for the day.” The director waving his hand dismissively.

The GENT worker looked over at Tom confused, they had only been at the studio for a few hours and yet were being told to go home. They had yet to see the machine operate properly say for the repeated running it on a low pressure to circulate the ink and check it's efficiency. It was more confusing when Joey himself was telling them to leave when all he did was bar them from going home on time and straddled them with one task after another.

Tom saw the confused yet curious look on the workers face, but at this point he couldn't risk his team being subjected to Joey's torment anymore. “It's ok. Let the team know they can go home. I can man the machine myself for the time being.” Tom tried to smile reassuringly to his employee.

The young man looked at Joey and then back at Tom “Yes, sir. Thank you sir.” He tipped his hat and strode down the hall to round up the rest of the staff. “So you actually can manage a team of staff, and here I thought that title of 'Lead GENT' worker was just for your intelligence and not people skills. A good show none the less” Joey grinned as he shot a small glace at Tom while they watched clusters of GENT workers leaving.

Tom shot the man a glare. He knew he didn't always have the best people skills and he wasn't big on communicating his emotions, but he was a professional. He took his job very seriously and didn't hesitate to communicate information pertaining to construction, maintenance or general knowledge. A grin crept up across his face “Well at least I can keep my staff happy instead of miserable” while he waved good-bye to a few members of his team who eagerly waved back.

“No matter. Once we're done here I won't be needing you anymore Mr. Thomas Connor. You are relieved of your duties once I see Bendy. I'm well aware that Wally has been training under you, and he will be taking your place once you are gone.” Joey coolly shot back.

Joey's words were music to Tom's ears he couldn't contain the smile on his face “Oh whatever shall I do?” Tom dramatically rested his arm across his face. “I guess I'll have to seek out another full time employer, hopefully one who has money and isn't bankrupt.” letting out a overly dramatic sigh. He couldn't wait to go back to the GENT headquarters and seek out another contract with an employer whom he wished would have more compassion then the shew Mr. Drew. He didn't miss the red that was dusting the director's face. He knew he struck a nerve with Joey, and he frankly didn't care.

“I am not bankrupt you scoundrel and pathetic excuse of a mechanic!” Joey barked, his voice echoing off the walls of the room “ I will have my rise and this is merely a 'business expense' and 'investment'.” Joey brushed his hands over his hair trying to smoothen his ruffled hair back to it's normal slicked back look, a sneer plastered on his face “Do keep in mind your precious wife works for me. She can always have an accident if things don't work out.”

Tom returned the sneer with own confident grin “I'm certain it will work cause it worked the first time on a experimental phase and now it is on the real run. Though do keep in mind sir in the 'agreement' if you want to call it that, was that she was to be safe from harm as long as the machine was 'completed on time and you have a on-model Bendy'. So the machine is completed on time and it will produce a perfect Bendy, therefore I have met your terms to the 'agreement' and you can no longer touch her. If you do hurt her and label it an 'accident' I can testify as a witness and victim to threats and the damages done will be viewed at 'premeditated' or even so far as 'attempted murder'. You'll loose everything you've ever built and most of all, you'll loose Bendy.”

Joey scowled at the confident GENT worker, Tom had him pinned and the tables have turned. “Just get the items ready and prepare the machine, you're still mine till further notice.” Joey lowly growled out.

'Regrettably yes, for now.” Tom grinned relishing in the small victory over Joey. It wasn't everyday the director was taken down a notch, but for now he had to play nice since he was still on his payroll and they didn't have Bendy just yet. It was still too early to celebrate. Tom gestured towards the hall and Joey glared at him, but followed.

The dueling duo paced down the hall in silence say for the occasional clicking sound of Joey's cane and the two came upon the primary control room for the machine. The room was long and had 6 large posters with 3 on each side of the room and before them a pedestal. Pipes radiated from the base of the pedestals and the posters above indicated what was needed to be placed on each respective slot. The pipes lead to the back wall of the room which was covered in pistons, pipes and other mechanics with a large black panel that read 'Low Pressure' and a large sign above reading 'Ink Machine'. It was a strange room that felt like a shrine with altars, but it was Joey's 'unique' requirement and the eerie commentary about 'appeasing the gods'.

Tom turned to face Joey fully and extended his hand. “The items, sir.”

Joey glanced down and the bag he held tightly in his hand before handing it over to Tom, his Grey eyes studying every motion critically. He watched impatiently as Tom took each item out of the bag and was about to place them onto the pedestals. “Hold it Mr. Connor.”

The mechanic halted his action and looked at Joey frustrated “What is it now? Do you want Bendy or not?” Tom was surprised at Joey's sudden intrusion but at the same time growing frustrated with yet another delay. Joey gestures at the Bendy Doll in Tom's hand “The cog wheel goes first, then it's followed by the wrench, inkwell, vinyl record, the doll, and finally” Joey reached into his pocket and pulled out his black book. The Illusion of Living. “This is the last piece” he held it out for Tom.

Tom looked at the strange book with a sense of foreboding. He had never seen such a book before and Joey told him that there were 6 items used for the pedestals but never eluded as to what the last one was. This strange book gave off an unsettling aura about it, like it wasn't meant to be in the hands of a human, or anyone for that matter. He extended his hand carefully plucking the book from Joey and dare not look at it any longer then he had to and resumed his placing the items in the strange order Joey specified. Yet another annoying requirement for a machine that already complicated enough on its own.

Tom swallowed his scornful thoughts and one by one he approached each pedestal and placed the respective items. He briefly paused at the Bendy doll in his hand and his memory briefly drifted to the first Bendy toon but he shook the thought out of his head and placed the doll on the pedestal. As soon as the pedestal registered the items placement it sank into the ground slightly clicking into place as a light above turned on. With the last item in hand Tom approached the last pedestal and placed the book, the pedestal slumped into the ground clicking into place joining the rest. All 6 were in place and were ready to go. Tom quickly vacated the room going down the hall to another room and turned the pressure valve. He couldn't help but wonder why Joey insisted on it being so far away from the main controls rather then next to it where it was easier. He turned the valve till it was fully opened and he could hear the ink rapidly flow through the pipes in the area making the building vibrate from the pressure. He ran back to the main control room and noted the 'Low pressure' had now changed to 'Ready' the machine was ready to begin. He lowered the lever and in response the lights in the building flickered from the strain of the machine but held fast.

“Let's go sir.” Tom gestured to Joey for them to return to the room containing the machine itself. Tom was in no sense of the word in a hurry to reach the room, remembering the first time with the experimental machine and the chaos that followed. Joey on the other hand seemed to ignore his limp and held a purposeful stride to the chamber. The directors eyes were now mad with excitement, something that Tom wished he could wipe clean off the mans face.

The two men arrived at the ink machine room and could hear the machine humming with ink flowing through it. It seemed almost alive with it's low hums, seemingly waiting for it's master.

“Now Mr. Connor, on my mark I want you to pull the lever” Joey pointed to the control panel on the side of the room and Tom raised a brow but didn't feel like arguing and complied.

The mechanic took up his position by the side of the room with the controls and Joey pressed his hand against the side of the machine. He couldn't believe it. All this time and preparation were for this moment, something he thought he would never see. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He stared down at the drawing. It was a simple drawing but one that started it all. The little piece of paper contained the first official drawing of Bendy the dancing demon. Henry had spent hours drawing that day and the man had drawn such a cute endearing character that was sure to attract the crowds. He gifted one of his first drawing of the devil darling to Joey and apologized for smudges on the edges of the paper where his sweaty palm had rested as well as a tiny blood spot from where he got a paper cut earlier that day. The drawing wasn't in pristine condition being slightly soiled by Henry laboring over it, but it was the first. If this wasn't enough to bring Bendy to life then nothing in the studio was, except the creator himself.

Joey took one final look at the paper before inserting it into the panel on the side of the machine. He then turned his attention to the pile of film reels that had been brought in earlier and one by one he fed all the materials to the machine. It felt like the feeding wouldn't end until he finally held up the last reel. The very first film reel that Henry had made; 'Tombstone panic', it was a cute little introductory short with the devil darling that had jump started Bendy's popularity. Joey remembered the short and remembered that something had happened to the film causing it to break and the ending portion disappeared. Only a beginning with no end, but it was the first and most important. With a slide of the panel the reel was placed inside and swallowed by the hungry machine. “Now Tom!” Joey hollered across the room. He watched as the mechanic pulled the level and then hovered intently over the gauges and valves.

The Machine grumbled and choked initially, but once it's stuttering was done it roared to life violently swaying on it's chains, the lights of the room flickering from the renewed strain. Sounds of grinding and shredding emanated from the base of the machine as it chewed and swallowed the cells, reels and drawing all converting them to the ink they originally came from. The grinding sounds died down and the machine's bellowing died down to a content hum as it waited for further action.

Joey rested his hand lovingly on the side of the machine and produced a ink pen from his pocket. With tender and careful hands Joey drew a small circle and pentagram on the side of the machine. Satisfied with the inscription he removed himself from the side of the machine and stood before the machine admiring it before he knelt down and redrew the same circle and pentagram on the floor beneath the nozzle. Despite a circle having already been drawn beneath the base of the machine he wanted to be absolutely sure of the scriptures he had read and wanted no errors.

Tom watched Joey out the corner of his eye. He wasn't in a position to do anything about Joey since he had to make sure the machine was operating correctly, but he couldn't help but be concerned about the new additional patterns decorating the side of the machine and Joey retracing the one on the floor. If he didn't know any better, it resembled something from some strange occult and didn't and shouldn't belong in a place meant to make people smile, but he could do was watch. With the final stroke of a finger Joey grinned satisfied with his work, but that satisfaction faltered as he stood back up. His body protesting his actions, a reminder that his body was broken and didn't work as well as he'd like. He backed away from the machine and stood before it with outstretched arms, boasting to the open air before the machine. “The 6 items of sacrifice each a mere fraction of life, offered to create the demon born of paper and ink. I call forth Bendy to rise out of simulation to the world of realization.”

With the last of Joey's words leaving his lips the markings that were drawn on the side of the machine as well as the floor lit up with a dull red glow. The air seemed to grow cold as the lights flickered and dimmed, making the red glow seem even brighter then before. The machine reacted violently to this sudden change of events and quivered on it's chains. It's content hums now screeching and straining as it's pipes were pulsing and writhing like snakes from the ebb and flow of the ink. The building itself rattling from the sheer force of the pipes strain. Tom frantically reached to turn the valves to lower the pressure of ink flowing to the machine, but a shout from joey told the man to merely release the safety on the machine allowing it to be completely open and to back away in case something went wrong. Tom swallowed heavily and with the spin of a valve he removed the safety lock and backed away still watching the machine writhe in a strange possessed agony. The screeches and wails died down and the nozzle shook as a mass of thick ink oozed from it and dropped onto the pentagram beneath it on the floor. The machine stopped swaying as if exhausted from use and hung limply on its chains, the pipes surrounding it no longer violently thrashed as they all limply slumped and sprawled out all over the floor.

Tom was instantly reminded of the first Bendy and like the first one the gelatin mass of ink pulsed and swayed as it was taking shape, the ink splitting in two like the first time. The bottom portion of ink grew two short limbs ending in shiny boots and was swiftly followed by two additional limbs sporting a white gloved hand with two buttons on each hand. Tom immediately noted the lack of color on the gloves, they were monochrome like how Bendy is in the cartoon unlike the sepia colored version. The final gelatin mass of ink took on the very characteristic round shape ending with two little stubby horns atop the head and sporting a large white face. The face had a small frown and the eyes were closed as the little black and white toon lay on the floor in the puddle of ink he was made from.

Tom initially made a move to remove himself from his station to inspect the newborn toon, but Joey was already leaning over the toon picking him up. A twinge of annoyance hit Tom as he felt Joey was not handling the newborn toon as gently as he should, the director lifting the toon by his stomach placing him over his shoulder rather then cradling him like a child.

Joey turned towards Tom and gave him a smile “You may go now Mr. Connor. Your work here is done, make sure to clean out your closet before leaving.” Tom nodded slightly and watched Joey turn on his heel and leave taking Bendy with him. The toon barely cracked his pie cut eyes open and looked up at Tom sleepily. He gave a small smile and a wave before Joey disappeared out the door closing it behind himself.

Tom gently rested against the control panel, all his energy drained from him. His work in this hell hole was done and was finally free. Laughter bubbled up out of the man, but was soon quashed by feelings of regret and shame. He regretted taking on the ink machine project for this stubborn controlling client even though it was very well paying. He was ashamed of his hand in creating two infant toons that were reduced sadly to one. He could only hope in the back of his mind that Bendy will not meet the same fate as his experimental predecessor.

Thoughts warred against themselves in Tom's mind, but he was done with this place. He removed himself from his momentary resting place and turned to face the control panel. His hands glided across the levers and vales turning them to shut the machine down as it was not needed for the remainder of the day. With the machine put to bed, Tom slowly wandered down the halls taking in the sights one last time. He knew he wouldn't miss this place at all. The stench of ink that permeated the air nearly giving anyone who entered the building a gag reflex. The constant drips from pipe bursts and the occasional flooding of the halls. Oh yeah he would not miss those days. It was all Wally's problem now and he frankly didn't care. The young lazy janitor hardly did anything as it was and now he was to man the machine. Heh. Good luck with that. A Smile crept across Tom's lips as he could easily picture Wally pitching a fit over the smallest of spills, heaven forbid the boy had to work.

Tom drifted down the halls to his work station rummaging through papers and boxes. He piled all the papers into a box carefully examining them one by one, weeding out unneeded documents. He found the first draft blueprint of the ink machine and laughed to himself how much the machine had grown and changed. The original ink machine felt quite small in comparison to it's final counterpart. It was hard to believe that such a small machine was so successful and paved the way for the larger one to follow. The weeks mulling over the drafts, the slow process in building the parts and assembling it was all dead and gone. He boxed up the original blueprints and decided to leave a copy of the final version of the machine for Wally just in case the man had to fix something on the machine.

Tom briefly sat at his former desk looking over the room once everything was packed. This tiny room had served as his office and prison for the past few weeks and now its all over. He slumped in his chair relaxing when a poster caught his attention. It was Bendy's second short titled “Bendy in The Dancing Demon”. Tom didn't really watch the cartoons since he felt he was too old for them but this short left him chuckling watching the little demon's love of dancing. His mind drifted to the living Bendy that Joey took with him. He could only hope that the little demon could live up to the expectations of the crazed man, but something about Bendy didn't feel right. He remembered the first toon that was killed and the little devil felt sweet and gave off a feel of home. He didn't know why, but he felt like he somehow knew the little toon even though it had just been born. Though Bendy felt very different in comparison, like there was something in him that felt unsettling as if you were looking at a monster wearing the guise of a innocent toon.

Tom let out a sigh and looked back at his pile of boxes he had prepared, it's time to leave. He made sure all his tools were packed and put away and with several boxes in hand he left his work station and headed out the studio to his truck. He packed all his things in the back and started the truck to head home. The man completely forgetting the one thing his wife had entrusted him to do.

-----Meanwhile in the Studio-----

Joey retreated to his office with Bendy in tow and set the demon down on the couch while he himself sat across, eyeing him critically. The toon was perfectly on model and not a thing out of place, he thought Bendy would be bigger but he was surprisingly small, about the same size as a small child. He was a demon meant for children after all. Bendy laid on the couch sleeping while Joey presumed the toon was exhausted from his birth and went back to his desk to examine paperwork for the theme park that was in the making. He couldn't wait to debut the living toon and relish the in spotlight with his success of the park and studio. Bertrum Piedmont liked to boast about how the park is his ticket to grandeur, oh no silly fool, he is merely a stepping stone on his own path to glory. Joey's thoughts were ground to a halt when heard stirring within the room, he looked up from his paperwork to see Bendy sitting up on the couch looking around the room. “Finally awake I see.” Joey's words catching the toon's attention.

Bendy looked over at the older man and gave a smile “Hi-ya!” he waved at the man. “mah name's Bendy. What's yours?”

Joey's eyes were wide as he was taken back by the toon's voice dropping his paperwork. Bendy had never spoken in any of their shorts and it was largely up for debate as to how the toon would sound when finally given a speaking role. He didn't expect Bendy to speak at all, just the cute little wheezing like laughter everyone was familiar with. If anything he found his voice very alarming. The toon sounded similar to Henry when he was a much younger man, a boy in fact. The days he and Henry spent running around as children with him trying to keep Henry in line since the man was quite the devil as a child.

“where am I?” Bendy's voice snapping Joey's train of thought.

Joey straitened up trying to gauge the demon. “We are in my office, and I'm Joey Drew. Director of this studio.”

“Ooh” Bendy let out a small whistle as he looked around the room. “What's a studio?”

“A studio is where a form of art is made, be it drawings, music or film. This studio makes cartoons, your cartoons.” Joey gestured to a Bendy cutout in the corner of his office.

“Mah cartoons?” Bendy tilted his head in confusion looking at the cutout. He didn't understand what this director guy was going on about. All he knew was that he was in a room decorated in strange objects and a large paper copy of himself in a corner. “Why do ya have a paper drawing of me? Do ya like me that much?”

“It's not a matter of like Bendy. You're the star of our show, children love your cartoons on the big screen. You draw in crowds of people to see you and your friends Boris and Alice.” Joey leaned back in his chair.

“But I've never been on a show, whatever a show is. Plus I don' know who Boris an Alice are.” Bendy looked at him confused. Bendy knew he didn't have too many memories and this guy was eluding to things and people he doesn't remember.

Joey's eyes widened slightly. Bendy had no form of recollection of being the character he is supposed to be, let alone his partner toons Boris and Alice. This toon before him looks like Bendy but acts completely different from the Bendy on the screen and on paper. Why is that? They used everything that made Bendy who he is and yet his personality is different. Did something go wrong? Was there something mixed in that changed something in Bendy?

Joey sat still staring at Bendy who had resumed looking around the room now that the man was stunned into silence. The toon attention now captured by a gramophone against the wall next to Joey's desk. Bendy carefully circled around the device looking over the equipment with immense fascination. He gently rest his fingers on the level and it lowered making a grumbling sound from the pavilion and the turntable spun slightly. A little light bulb appeared over the toon's head and he grabbed the crank and spun it around several times rapidly. The gramophone grumbled initially but soon swayed to life playing music from the Bendy show.

Joey watched as Bendy's head slowly start to bob to the beat of the shows music that was being played on his gramophone, the toon clearly content with himself. After a minute Bendy stated to actually dance to the beat of the music, he was the dancing demon after all. Joey all the while was too stunned to say anything and merely watched the dancing devil.

“I like the music Mr.” Bendy chirped as he happily tap danced to the music. “ I don't know where it's from but I like it.”

His dance moves were exactly like the show but wrong. They were fluid and cleaner then any animator could possibly draw. He easily dipped in and out dance moves, he even did a small twirl at one point, but his head didn't spin with his body but rather floated there following his body's movements. Joey watched in growing disdain. Bendy was wrong, he's speaking when he shouldn't and he is dancing when there is no need to do such action. He is supposed to know his toon friends and know the music to his own show. Why doesn't he know anything that makes him, him?

A little chime sounded through the room as the clock on the wall sounded off the evening hours instantly catching the toon's attention. Bendy stopped dancing and hopped up on the couch to get a better look at the clock. “Oooh what's that?” the toon pointing up at the clock.

“A clock.” Joey grumbled out starting to rub his temples.

Bendy started up at the clock in amazement at the little bird that popped in and out before hopping off the couch and climbing onto a short shelf near a wall of photos beneath the clock. The toon was fascinated by all the photos of various people and figures upon the wall. The clattering around of the energetic toon rapidly getting on Joey's nerves. The director remembered Bendy is a bit of a energetic character, but never this energetic. Why is everything going wrong with Bendy?

“Hey!” Bendy's voice causing the frustrated director to look up. “Is that Henry?” Bendy pointed at a photo of two young men both standing before the studio each man wearing an ear to ear grin. He pointed at the younger chestnut haired man whom was shorter of the two. The man wore a simple black suit and a white bow tie while holding handful of papers and an inkwell with a pen sticking out of it. It was the day the studio opened, a day Joey remembered all too well. He and Henry had pooled what little money they had between them to buy the older building that was slated to be torn down. Both were excited to finally have a studio of their own even if it wasn't much and they only had two staffers at the time, Norman and Sammy. Joey had begged Sammy to join them in creating music since the man had a high level of talent but no place to truly shine, promising him the position of musical director. Norman was a rare find and one that he was more then happy to acquire. The man being dark skinned had gotten him some rough treatment in his home state, but on this side of the country his skin color didn't matter. Norman knew his profession exceedingly well and was a diligent worker. Naught but 2 weeks into the studio's opening and the small staff Joey had acquired and continuously added, Henry had come up to him with the little cartoon devil and it proved to be their ticket to fame. The devil was a instant hit with children.

Joey rose from his chair, his anger starting to boil over. “How do you know Henry?” he stomped up to the oblivious toon. Bendy shouldn't know Henry, the man was not present for the toon's creation, he was. Henry only drew the toon and he, Joey Drew owns the rights.

Bendy placed a finger on his chin in thought “Hmm, Dunno. All I do know is Henry is mah creator.” He beamed up the now outraged studio director, an action he regretted when Joey was now looming over the toon.

“Henry has nothing to do with you. You are my toon from my Studio” Joey growled. Bendy quivered under the man's frigid glare.

“B-But, H-Henry-” Bendy stuttered out, ink dripping from the side of his head.

“Henry is gone! I own you!” Joey bellowed out, his patience with the toon at its end. “You could never know Henry cause he isn't here!”

Bendy mustered up the little courage he had to face the enraged man “I-I do know Henry! His blood, sweat 'n tears are in mah ink!” he emphasized his point by placing his hand over his chest where his heart would be. “He is mah creator, not you!”

Joey had enough of the toon, He reached out and grabbed Bendy by his sides pinning his arms and lifted the toon up. The toon screamed and struggled in the mans grasp kicking Joey in his leg during his struggle sending the man toppling. With his grip loosened on the toon, Bendy wiggled out of the mans grasp and ran for the door trying desperately to open it. His cries for help and for someone, anyone to help him fell silent on the long halls of the studio void of any and all staff. While Bendy was trying to open the locks on the door his gloved fingers too large to open the small locks properly, he failed to realize that Joey had regained his composure and brandished his cane. With one swift and heavy swing Joey struck Bendy on the back of the head knocking the toon out cold, his body crumbling to the ground.

Joey stood over the toon with labored breath. This isn't Bendy, it looks like Bendy but it acts like Henry. Bendy is supposed to be Bendy and not have traits from his creator. He is supposed to have a whistling like sound not a voice. He is supposed to be the little devil darling and dancing demon that had many little misadventures and never seems to get his way. He's supposed to make the crowd pity him, not stand up for himself. Something went wrong.

Joey grabbed Bendy's unconscious body and held him under his arm as he hastily made his way out his office and to the elevator. Joey's mind racing with all the work and time spent on the toon in his arms, he needed the toon out of the way and to try and figure out what went wrong. There must be a way to fix Bendy, to make him proper. The elevator gate creaked open and joey rushed inside pressing the button for the lowest possible level in the studio. The gates closed with a groan and the mechanism slowly made it's way down to the depths of the studio. Joey spent the ride staring out through the gates of the elevator as it passed each level of the studio, the floors steadily getting darker and darker the further they went. When the elevator finally stopped Joey stormed out and twisted and turned his way downs halls and unfinished corridors heading even further down. As he made his decent he caught the occasional glimpse of the shaft that the ink machine was suspended over and all he had to do was follow it. When Joey finally reached the true bottom of the studio the place was cold, dark and damp, ink oozed out of the walls in small streams forming a vast river. The GENT team was shocked upon the caverns discovery and Joey urged them to use it to store the ink for the machine rather then to use holding containers. Why not use mother natures natural well to hold the ink. The director tossed Bendy's unconscious body onto one of the small paddle boats that GENT made to transport cargo. With a small turn of the motor the paddle wheel creaked to life sending them down the river. The man grew frustrated as the boat kept constantly getting clogged by clumps of ink, as if the ink itself was protesting him. He had to constantly stop to use his cane to clear the ink all the while making sure Bendy was still unconscious. This was by no sense of the word Joey's preferred route of reaching the depths of the studio but if he took the normal halls and stairwells he ran the risk of being seen, even if the staff was off for the day there was always the chance of a lingering employee.

The tunnel of ink finally opened up to a larger cavern which signaled they were at the true heart of the studio. Joey steered the boat to the small dock that had been made and grabbed his prisoner and entered the cavern coming to the door built within its walls. The area had not been finished yet but it had been planned to move the Administration offices further down and for the moment it was merely empty halls and offices yet to be filled by new staff. The stairwells leading downwards were completed but not in full use except the film team and maintenance crews. The pride and joy of the converted cavern besides saving costs of digging was the amount of space to house the new Vault room and heart of the ink machine. Other studios had fancy vault rooms that needed constant supervision, but Joey Drew studios had a cavern buried beneath the studio. What better place to store the films then under ground where they will be protected from the harsh weather and away from prying eyes. A perfect place to hide Bendy until he was perfected.

Joey reached the small hallway leading to the vault room and unlocked the door entering the space that housed the massive vault door. The door was a sight to behold, standing at 12 feet in diameter and several feet thick. No one could open such a door easily. Joey turned the wheel on the door unlocking it bolt by bolt, the creaks and groans of the vault door opening causing the demon in his arms to slowly stir. Joey realizing his captive was slowly waking, he quickly entered the vault room and hurried to the small doors nestled towards the back right side of the chamber. The only path to the heart of the ink machine. Joey wasted no time walking down the hallways that wound around and ultimately bellied out to another section of the cavern that housed the ink lake that was the well for the machine.

Bendy slowly stirred and once he regained his focus and realized he was somewhere different, he immediately squirmed and screamed in Joeys grasp trying to break free from the mad director. Growing tired of Bendy's pleas for Joey to release him and his frantic screams, Joey submerged the toons head under the ink to silence him. He had enough of Bendy's voice and wished to no longer hear it. The toon violently thrashing and fighting to breathe, doing his best to punch, kick or do anything to make Joey let him go. The only thoughts through Bendy's mind were 'what did I do to deserve this? Please someone anyone, help me!' Joey was unflinching as he held the toons head down watching air bubbles slowly form in the ink as Bendy was loosing air. Slowly Bendy's body grew weaker and more limp and Joey lifted the toon's head back up so he wouldn't kill him by accident. Bendy's consciousness slowly fading again as a small wish crossed his mind 'Henry, help me', after that the toon's world went black.

Joey watched the toon's strength fade and he once again slipped into unconsciousness. He tucked the demon under his arm securely and slowly waded into the ebony moat leading to the chamber housing the heart of the machine. His progress across was slow as if the ink was grabbing onto him and trying to pull him down, his only saving grace was that the fluid was not any deeper and he at least had his cane to steady himself. Joey glanced up at the heart of the machine. It looked like a far larger version of the machine that rested on the upper floors. The ink machine above made people stare and gawk at it's intimidating size, if they only saw the one below. The heart called 'the belly of the beast' by most of the GENT team including Tom had a large circular room surrounded by large silver screens meant to show case the darling devil shorts. The room had been designed to not only create the living toons but to showcase to investors the art of the studio and it's toons. This central room was like a throne room to the empire that was to be known as Joey Drew Studios, now it will serve as a prison cell until he is able to figure out what went wrong with Bendy and fix him.

Joey set Bendy down in the chair knowing full well the toon would not be moving anytime soon and used the levers and valves to lower some of the excess chains that were suspended from the ceiling. To his dismay he had no way of trying the chains off until a small pile of clasps in the corner of the room caught his attention. He hobbled over to the pile and dug within them to seek out his desired sizes and managed to secure 2 that would fit his needs. With cane and clasps in hand, he hobbled back to the loops of chain he left on the floor before the chair that housed Bendy. He grabbed the chains and attached 2 clasps to them and tightened the clasps around Bendy's wrists securing the demon. He wrapped the excess chain around Bendy's stomach to prevent him from getting out of the chair. Once he was sure that all the chains were in place Joey headed back to the levers and valves lifting the excess chain off the floor causing the chains around Bendy's stomach to tighten and the chains holding his arms to pull them up suspending his arms in the air. Bendy the Dancing Demon was now secured in the heart of the machine, and there he will remain. Joey brushed off some of the excess ink that stubbornly clung to him taking once last glance at the imprisoned toon, he huffed and slowly left the room closing the door behind him.

Joey seethed his entire trip to the upper levels, glaring holes in all the departments and floors as he climbed one by one. He finally reached his office and roughly sat at his chair exhausted from restraining Bendy and making the trip to the lower levels. The man's thoughts burned with rage about why everything seemed to be going wrong in his life. His studio that he founded with Henry that was now solely his since Henry abandoned him. He owns the toons and that now one was brought to life and questioned his ownership. It's his studio for gods sake, not Henry's. He worked himself to the bone to make the place what it is, he crawled atop mountains of people to achieve that which could not be achieved. It is his right to stand on top for all that he did to get this far, so why is everything he built falling apart now? Henry was the one that abandoned him, his toons, everything. Yet Bendy' was insistent on following his creator, a man he never met and held a high level of confidence in. Joey looked over at his phone on the edge of his desk and reached out gently pulling the device to him to make a call. He lifted the earpiece off the receiver and spun the rotary dial around a few times and waited for the line to be picked up.

“Operator? Operator?” Joey patiently waited on the line and soon heard the sounds of the line being picked up.

“Yes?” A woman's voice sounded through the ear piece.

“Yes, I'd like to place a call to the GENT Corporation the customer service branch.”

“Yes sir, one moment please” Joey heard the line cut as he waiting to be patched through.

The line buzzed for a brief moment before it came to life with a man's voice on the end. “GENT Corporation customer service how can I help you today?”

Joey schooled his hair back as he leaned against the phone “Yes my name is Joey Drew and I'd like to put in a complaint about one of your staff members.”

“I'm sorry to hear about the inconvenience sir, let me jot down the information and we will handle the problem to the best of our ability.”

The man's words were music to Joey's ears. Tom thought he could bite joey like a dog biting it's owner and leave a job half done. No. His job wasn't done and he will see it through even if he had to be forced to stay within the studio and never allowed to leave. “Yes. I'd like to file a complaint about the lead engineer and worker assigned to a requested project by the name of Thomas Connor. He had been working on a project at my studio by the name of Joey Drew Studios and not only did he not finish the project requested but he has been delaying the project repeatedly and has now walked out on it. He claimed that we were not paying him enough for his expertise despite being handsomely paid. I'd like for him to at least come back and finish the project if it were at all possible.”

Joey could heard the sounds of scratching as the man was writing down his words .“Certainly sir. I will put in the complaint with my higher ups and Mr. Connor will be dealt with accordingly.” The man responded. “I apologize for any inconvenience. Will that be all?”

“Yes sir, thank you for your help.” Joey grinned maniacally while lightly tapping his fingers on the side of the phone's body.

“No problem, have a nice day.” With parting words the line was cut ending the call.

Joey leaned forward gently placing the ear piece back on it's receiving hook before leaning back in his chair. His grin stretched wider and wider nearly rivaling the Bendy cutout in the corner of his office before he broke into a full raucous laughter. The mans voice echoing off walls of the room as he laughed at his actions, Tom will pay for his actions and perfect the machine, he now has no escape since he will loose his job if he doesn't comply. If you want to hurt someone hurt them where it hurts the most, the wallet. Joey was well aware of Allison's income and as a woman she doesn't make nearly as much as her male counterparts. Tom's income more then made up for the difference especially with him being an engineer which was already a high paying occupation. The couple will struggle if Tom's income is cut short and the only way to make a living was to stay. There is no place to run no hide, the machine will be finished or else their livelihood will be finished.

Joey slowly composed himself after his laughing fit and carefully started to gather up the remaining paperwork of the day. He opened up his drawer to grab his black book when he realized it was missing. He chuckled to himself he forgot that he was using it as one of the 6 sacrifices 'the machine is not operating at the moment so it doesn't need the book' he thought to himself while he packed the last few papers in his briefcase. He lifted himself from the desk and with cane and case in hand slowly heading out his office locking the door behind him. Joey drifted down the silent halls looking at the posters of Bendy and his friends, he vowed that the toons will be perfect no matter what. The man rounded corners till he finally reached the sacrifice room, all 6 sacrifices still sitting where Tom had left them.

Joey gingerly took his book from the pedestal causing the platform to lift back up in it's original position. He looked the book over and turned around ready to leave when something caught his eye. He looked at the pedestal directly across from his and saw the little Bendy doll sacrifice. He walked up to the doll scowling a it. It reminded him too much of the doll turned toon that escaped and is running loose in his studio. Though seeing a doll up close gave him pause, how could an object with no solid connection to Bendy say for only appearance produce a living toon? There was no reels, no sketches, no drawings or any other memorabilia used, only a doll, yet it was somehow alive just like Bendy. It was as off model as they get and while Bendy was on model in appearance he was as off model as his predecessor. This was going to be something that warranted an explanation from the failure of a mechanic. With a precise swing Joey knocked the doll off it's stand sending it flying across the room striking the wall, the little doll make a pitiful squeak upon impact and lay on the floor facing the frustrated man. Joey shot one final glare at the doll before pocketing his book, turning on his heel and leaving.

-----------Later at the Connor's---------------

Allison practically danced around her home, she couldn't wait for her husband to come home with Benny in tow. Her mind joyously going over potential introduction scenarios a mile a minute, she had even gone out of her way to cook enough for 4 people. Allison stood at the edge of her table triumphantly taking in the sight of the feast she carefully labored over, a small turkey sat in the center of the table surrounded by plates of greens, mashed potatoes and a small gravy bowl. She had even gone out to the garage and pulled out a spare fold out chair she hid on the side of the stove out of sight. Her heart beat faster when he heard the familiar sound of tires coming up the little driveway and coming to a stop. Allison all but ran to her front door throwing it open. Her smile bright and arms up at the ready to catch the little ball of energy known as Benny as he would immediately attach himself to her upon sight. However the sight she saw made her arms fall limp to her sides and her smile faded.

Tom limped out of his truck like a whipped dog completely coated in ink, his body slumped from exhaustion as he exited the vehicle. He shot her a small smile before he walked to the passenger side opening up the door and grabbed the boxes and pulling them out. He nudged the door closed and made his way up the walkway to the house. Allison silently watched him all the while, she wanted to ask him where her 'doll' was and she hoped he was inside one of the boxes that were in Tom's arms. She nudged the door open for him so he could come inside and Tom gently kissed her as he walked by before he set his keys down on the little nightstand by the door. She closed the door once he was inside and turned to watch the man take the pile of boxes to his office. She carefully followed him stopping at the doorway of the room watching him open up all the boxes and putting papers away.

One by one Tom opened up the boxes and bit by bit Allison's heart broke, Benny was in none of the boxes. She could feel her heart beating faster with dread the more he moved around with no toon in tow. Allison spun on her heel and walked as fast as she could down the hall to keep Tom from hearing her running. She snatched Tom's truck keys off the little stand before heading to his truck, her hand was shaking as she tried to unlock the door. She grabbed her hand with the other to steady herself and unlocked the door crawling in the side of the vehicle.

“Benny? Benny?!” She cried out hoping to get the toon's attention, nearly turning the truck inside out as she lifted the seats and dug through boxes and bags of tools. She hoped that she would magically lift a box or bag and the toon would launch himself at her and everything would perfect. Allison bit back her tears as her pace of rummaging the boxes slowed as grim reality set in. Benny wasn't here. Tom forgot. The dam of hope she tried to build shattered, tears poured from her eyes as sorrow overtook her.

Tom finished putting away the last of his things when he turned to look for Allison. He drifted through the house looking around in the living room and then to the kitchen. He paused at the table covered in what looked like a mini Thanksgiving feast. Was this all for him? Was it because he's finally done with the ink machine project and Allison was rewarding him? A smile crept up on his face, he couldn't believe that she would go through so much effort for him when these past two weeks he was hardly home and got to spend so little time with her. What did he do to deserve such a wonderful woman, when he hasn't been able to reciprocate the gesture?

“Allison?” Tom called out looking around the house. 'I could have sworn I saw her earlier. Where did she go?' he thought to himself as he checked all the rooms. He passed by the front door and saw that the screen door was closed but the front door itself was open and a figure sat on the porch. “Allison?”

Tom carefully stepped out the door to see Allison curled up on the porch. She had her back turned to him and her face buried in her arms. “Sweetie?” He gently rest his hand on her shoulder.

Allison looked up at Tom her cheeks red and her eyes puffy from crying, the sight before him nearly broke his heart. He rarely saw Allison cry and it was something he didn't like to see. “What's wrong?” Tom gently scooted her over sitting next to her and slowly rubbed her back gaining a few more sobs from her. He pulled her towards him gently and rest his head on hers.

“He-He wasn't brought home.” Allison whimpered out, her voice low. Her body shook as she was holding back her tears and her building anger.

Tom barely heard her and tilted his head in confusion. “Brought home?” He felt that he was forgetting something but couldn't place it.

“The doll.”

Tom paused in thought. “The doll?” Tom didn't remember any dolls.

“You didn't bring him home.” Allison's voice returning stronger, she scooted out of the mans embrace to put distance between herself and him.

“Umm what doll?” Tom paused trying to think “What exactly are you going on about?”

Allison looked up at her husband anger all over her face. “The Bendy plush toy Tom, the one you promised to bring home! Now's hes stuck there all alone!” Allison nearly shouted at the top of her lungs. She was outraged. How could Tom forget the one little thing she had asked of him? All their plans and scrambling trying to get Benny out was set aside cause Tom said he would bring him home. If she knew the man was going to forget then she wouldn't have relied on him with such an important task.

Tom flinched away from her, he had never seen her so angry so suddenly. His mind drifted back to the other day during the lunch spent together when he held a little Bendy plush that was gifted to Allison. “You mean the Bendy plush you got from a coworker? I'm sure they'll be another chance to sneak the toy out.” He tried to reassure her gently placing his hand on her shoulder.

“That's not how he'll see it.” Allison bitterly uttered before she brushed off Tom's hand off her shoulder and got up leaving him sitting outside the house.

Tom quietly sat on the porch completely baffled by Allison's swirl of emotions she threw at him. One minute she is upset and crying and the next she looks like she wants to hurt him. He didn't get it. Yeah he knew the toy was a gift but why would it get her so upset that he forgot? It's not like it was a big deal if he forgot the thing today, besides Allison still works at the studio she would have plenty of opportunities to sneak the doll out. Tom folded his hands and rested his elbows on his knees as he stared out into the evening sky. Tomorrow he will get to report back to GENT headquarters and seek out another job and hopefully one that didn't give him as many Grey hairs as the previous one. His thoughts broken by the sound of the telephone in the kitchen.

Tom sighed and got up to head back into house, he sauntered through the kitchen to the corner where the phone was loudly ringing. He leaned against the wall and picked up the earpiece off the receiver. “Hello? Thomas Connor speaking.”

“Ah, Good evening Mr. Connor. I am a representative from GENT headquarters. I have regrettably received a complaint from your previous employer about failure to complete a contract.” Tom's eye's widened upon hearing the mans voice commenting about 'failure to complete a contract' there was only one person that fits that role and that was Joey Drew. “You are to return to your previous employer and finish the work assigned. If you refuse to do so, then there will be repercussions by means of a pay cut or even termination.”

Tom froze holding the earpiece to his ear, his hand gripped the side of the phone box. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Anger building up rapidly within the man, how dare Joey screw with him. That pathetic excuse of a studio director got what he wanted and yet he is still not satisfied. Tom's voice was low and dripped with venom as he politely thanked the GENT rep and hung up the phone. He wanted nothing more then to break something and that pleasure would be reserved for Joey's neck.

Tom turned to see the table piled high with food and let out a long sigh. 'guess the celebration of finishing the stupid machine will have to wait' he thought to himself. He grabbed a plate and started to set up a portion for himself when he noted that Allison was no where to be found. Again. He got up from the table and walked into the living room to see her on the couch fast asleep. Tom ran his fingers down the sides of his face. He didn't know how to explain it but watching her little outburst over a toy was baffling and it felt like she was avoiding him now. He didn't understand it, how could a little toy be so important? Yeah sure it was a gift from a grateful staffer, but it can't be important enough to warrant such and outburst. Tom grabbed a spare blanket from the linen closet and covered Allison up for the night deciding to let her rest and hopefully she would have calmed down by morning.

Tom headed back to the kitchen and the plate of food he made up for himself suddenly didn't look so appealing, but he knew his body needed it. He grabbed a chair and sat down quietly eating the now cold meal. He appreciated his wife's gesture with the meal but she didn't have to go so far for him, he would have been happy with just a small 'congratulations' and a make one of her famous cookies but not a full course meal. He silently thanked her for her efforts and once he was done eating he carefully packed the items in containers and placed them in the refrigerator. Tom washed up the dishes, putting them away and started cleaning around the table when a fold up chair on the side of the stove caught his attention. He lifted his brow as he pulled the chair out confused as to why it had been taken out of the garage, but decided to leave it alone and slid it back in it's hiding place.

The kitchen had been restored to order and Tom sighed looking at the sleeping figure in the living room letting out a soft sigh, 'I'll talk to her in the morning'. He turned the lights off one by one and lightly kissed Allison on the forehead before he drifted to his own room to get some much needed rest. Little did he know Allison was awake and she sat up to look at the empty hallway her husband had traveled down. She knew the man was worn and beat but the thoughts of Benny not being home where he belonged and the fact that a promise had been broken had cut into her deeply. She laid her head back down as the tears once again welled up in her eyes. She had no clue what to say to Benny in the morning, and could only hope that he wouldn't take the forgotten promise too hard.

------------Meanwhile At The Studio-------------------

A Small figure sat a top a lonely throne bound by chains, the chains were as heavy as his heart. Large black tears poured from Bendy's eyes he spent hours screaming, crying and trying to free himself from his cold prison only to find that he can't move and that no one was coming for him. His inky skin was covered in bruises and cuts from his struggling within the chains, each desperate twist and turn of his body resulted in more pain till he couldn't take it anymore and lay limply on the chair. He didn't understand, what did he do wrong? What did he do to deserve such treatment? Bendy wept resigned to his fate to be left in a place where it was dark and cold, a place for him to rot away and be forgotten.

A separate figure sat inside a crate on the bottom of a shelf curled up into a tight ball. Large tears poured from Benny's eyes and he had come to the realization that he had been left behind. He sat on Allison's desk for hours out in the open keeping a ever watchful eye on her door hoping to see Tom come in and take him home. He wanted nothing more to see the man's smiling face as he scooped him up and took him out of the studio, to be welcomed by Allison in his new home. That wasn't going to happen, Tom broke his promise. The only chance to get out and it was gone. Benny wept resigned to his fate to be stuck in a place where if he is ever found he will be killed, and that Allison's protection was not guaranteed.

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Author’s notes:

Well I hope you all have your healthy dose of pain. Though please don’t come after me with pitchforks there are quite a few of you (not naming names) that have a small “Protect the Bean” team.

#batim stitched au #benny the stitch demon #benny the stitch devil #benny the stitched devil #benny the stitched demon #bendy the demon #bendy the dancing demon #bendy the devil #bendy the dancing devil #thomas connor #allison pendle #allison connor #joey drew

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