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quibbs126 · 1 year

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Alright, I finished this kid, her name is Licorice Cream Cookie

I recognize nobody actually asked for me to make her, but whatever, she’s been rotating in my mind and I just needed to get her drawn

So the name comes from these candies called (I believe) licorice cream rocks, or licorice rockies. I just stuck with Licorice Cream since I didn’t think fitting the whole name worked, or calling her Licorice Rocky. I suppose Cream Rock could have also worked, but it doesn’t really have the “licorice” bit to make her sound related to them. What am I saying? I don’t know at this point. Honestly thinking about it more Cream Rock might work better. If that’s the name you end up seeing in the description, know that I ended up changing it

Licorice cream rock:

I’ve mentioned elements of her design in past posts, but to reiterate. So the one thing I knew I wanted to have was for her to have red eyes (I give a lot of Dark Choco kids red eyes). Then I was trying to think of ways to make her without looking too much like Dark Choco, and I stuck with making her more licorice to have that differentiation. Then I thought to make her dough grey and hair black so that she’d have a combination of both, but also look distinct enough on her own, plus it makes her eyes stand out all the more. Then I just gave her a simple dress to go with, I guess just because. I’ll be honest, while I was fine with her design yesterday when I drew it, I’m not so sure it looks that great right now. Maybe it’s just the face, because nothing else looks particularly off. Or I just feel like this wasn’t worth it, I dunno

Also full disclosure, I made her a kid because I haven’t really fleshed out her herself. To be honest, my thoughts about her have been less about her as a character, and more about shenanigans that ensue with her parents and members of the CoD when she’s accidentally baked, so when she’s a baby

Anyways, so on to Licorice Cream. So as suggested by an anon yesterday, whose idea I really liked, basically she’s the product of a spell gone wrong by Licorice. I imagine Dark Choco’s genes got in there because Licorice needed some dark chocolate for the spell and Dark Choco was in the room, so he just decided it would be easier to get some from him and just threw in a lock of his hair. They were dating at the time, but not to the extent that they were considering parenthood yet, so basically they got sent into a panic at the fact that they kind of now have a kid. I imagine this taking place sometime between the Vanilla Kingdom story and the Hollyberry Kingdom one, so when that story rolls around, Licorice would be there taking care of Licorice Cream, since I imagine that story isn’t dangerous enough for Licorice that it’s okay to bring a freshly baked Cookie. Also it means the Gingerbrave squad can meet her, which I just think would be cute. Also this makes it so she was baked while Dark Choco was in the Cookies of Darkness, which would certainly complicate him leaving the group, as his daughter and partner are still part of that group. However I haven’t really figured out how that whole thing works out, so just assume that if he leaves, not too long after (like less than a year or so I mean) the CoD is defeated and the three going back to being together. I dunno. Before this idea came up, I didn’t have a set way as to how she came to be, but I had sort of come up with the idea that perhaps Dark Choco and Licorice (along with a few other members that work with Licorice, like Bat-Cat, Choco Werehound Brute and possibly Poison Mushroom) decide to leave the CoD with her at around that same time and decide to lay low, so that Dark Choco doesn’t actually end up confronting his father and leaving the group, at least not until Gingerbrave and friends find out where these guys are, and not knowing their intentions seeks them out, possibly including Dark Cacao as he’s been informed his son is a member, which leads to him learning he’s a grandfather now. But this wasn’t the version I went with for this current version, so I don’t know how it all goes down with Dark Choco. Also not sure they bring Licorice Cream to the Dark Cacao Kingdom in this new version, as this area is much more dangerous, but also it means Dark Cacao has the potential to meet his granddaughter and possibly this new knowledge of Dark Choco’s current life could change things about how he approaches their interactions. I dunno

Edit: oh, I just thought of a potential spell that could have caused this. Maybe after their defeat in the Vanilla Kingdom, Licorice thought to make more powerful servants, and knowing that Dark Choco was pretty strong, and just that in general dark chocolate in their world seems pretty physically strong, decided to incorporate some dark chocolate in his spell, using Dark Choco’s hair. Dark Choco might have thought it was a bit odd of a choice instead of just actual dark chocolate, but he doesn’t know magic, so he can’t really argue

I’ve been talking too much about the stuff surrounding Licorice Cream and not much about her herself. I should do that

So as I tried to show in her expression, Licorice Cream is a very friendly child and a bit outgoing. She’s also just generally an absolute sweetheart. Basically the idea is that Dark Choco and Licorice both looked at each other and were like, “okay we CANNOT mess her up like we might be” and tried to raise her as best as possible. She might have been an accident but they still wanted to raise her since she is kind of theirs, and they do genuinely love her. Granted she does also believe that if someone is making fun of her, she should beat them up and stand her ground, which wasn’t exactly the lesson Dark Choco wanted her to learn. She’s also taken an interest in magic like Licorice, though I’m not sure whether dessert magic or dark magic

Also another thing, so as you can see with the sketch, I had this idea that Pomegranate is just terrified of this child, like it’s the one thing that scares her. No one’s entirely sure what it is about her, it’s just that she genuinely scares Pomegranate, calling her some sort of “demon child”. Originally this was going to manifest in that when she sees Pomegranate, even as a baby (since this is where it started), she would go dead silent and just stare at her, her red eyes seeing through her, and it genuinely unsettled Pomegranate, like she was convinced this kid would kill her someday. I’ve more changed it so that Licorice Cream hasn’t actually done anything weird, and rather she acts friendly towards Pomegranate, but something about this kid just feels wrong to Pomegranate and she stays away from it as much as possible. I had another idea yesterday (likely because I was watching cartoons), that Pomegranate would secretly try to get rid of this kid so that she wouldn’t bother her anymore, only for her to keep turning back up one way or another, with her parents getting increasingly protective to prevent this, meaning Pomegranate has no escape from this kid. I mean, technically Pomegranate is half right, this kid is not normal, but she’s not intentionally malicious towards her or anything. She just thinks she’s a demon child, and this was made more for comedy than anything. Also fun fact, Pomegranate’s magic has no effect on Licorice Cream, meaning Pomegranate can’t force her to go away with it

Speaking of which, so I mentioned her having red eyes being an intentional choice. Basically, sort of like Mallomar, I wanted the Strawberry Jam Sword to have some influence on Licorice Cream, though more than Mallomar. Her eyes are red less because of Dark Choco (though that is his red), and more because of SJS influence. I haven’t necessarily worked out the details, but ideas of it are that she’s immune to magic, or at least dark magic, that it’s potentially part of the reason she has such a strong interest in dark magic, maybe that because of it, if you tick her off enough she goes from friendly to eerily aggressive within a split second (though that part’s a definite maybe), and that she sometimes hears a voice in her head, or at least in her dreams, and has felt some sort of calling to find this being, though she’s not sure what it is. Also, since Dark Choco would have had the SJS at some point while she’s alive, during that time, she had a bit of an obsession with the sword, which Dark Choco found concerning, but saw it as nothing more than her innocent curiosity about the big thing that sometimes glows, similar to how he had an obsession with his father’s sword. He was more concerned about the fact that her curiosity might lead her to touch it, which ended up cursing him when he did, and is adamant to make sure his mistakes don’t repeat with her. Though later on in life, he’s noted some of her odd traits, and while he’s not sure whether the sword actually has anything to do with it, he is a bit concerned. Though not in the way that he’s afraid of her, mostly in that he’s becoming increasingly concerned that his use of Strawberry Jam Sword may have unintentionally corrupted her and he feels horribly guilty at the thought that his mistakes might have ruined/corrupted his child right from the start. She doesn’t know about it, and Licorice might have some idea, but he only thinks that these are just thoughts in his head, since Dark Choco’s prone to making himself guilty for things that aren’t his fault

Oh yeah also side note, for her relation to Gancao, despite her being younger in this drawing, Licorice Cream would be older, considering she was baked while Dark Choco was still in the group

But yeah, I think that’s about it for Licorice Cream, I hope you enjoy her

#when I started writing this I was thinking “why did I make this”#which you can probably see in the design portion #but as I went on I was more fine with it #though I should probably get back to doing actual requests #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run oc #dark choco cookie #licorice cookie #darklico #fankid #fanchild #licorice cream cookie #no the more I say it the more it sounds like a skin product #I’ll have to ask my friend if Cream Rock sounds better #my ocs #my art

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silly-thinkings · 2 years

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Hopeful Nightmare~

This is a continuation of the Filler chapters for “Vacation gone wrong” (Part 1 here!) Please note that the original fic is a stand alone one-shot and this is just something I wrote for fun, while I slowly work on my other chapter fics. Thank you for reading! please remember: I do not own these Characters, they belong to DC Comics. ~One Year Later~ Damian looked at his reflection amongst the glass case that held his fathers suit. Hours had gone by, and yet he still couldn’t leave from that spot. Damian heard sudden foot steps from behind him. He focused on the reflection to see non other then Dick Grayson approach him. “Hey, I know that suit is a heavy one. You don’t have to keep doing this. I can take over if you-” “This is my birthright Grayson.” Damian Turned around “Besides, you’ve made it pretty clear that you wanted nothing to do with Batman.” Dick crossed his arms as he let out a sigh “Damian, You’re only sixteen. And its clear that you’re still thinking about-” “Don’t you dare say their names.” Damian straightened his poster “It’s been a year since mother and father… Since they… Tsk You must be here to pester me. You’ve never visited when they were alive. You never called after you moved away. So why must you annoy us now?” Dick maintained the eye contact from his younger brother. “It wasn’t like that and you know it. I had to leave, to figure out who I was.” Dick pushed Damian back with his finger “You did the same thing ya hypocrite. At least I didn’t Disrespect Mom like you did when you got here.” Damian was about the swing before he felt a hand on his chest. The two brothers looked beside them to see Cassandra gently pushing them apart “Stop. please,” The cave went quiet. The only sound came from the bats on the roof. “Alfred Needs help in the kitchen. He asked for you specifically Damian.” Cassandra said softer as she gently pulled Damian away. The teen sucked his teeth before leaving. At the sound of the grandfather clock sliding closed, Cassandra turned to her older Brother. Dick brushed his fingers through his hair as he looked at the Suit. “Forgive him Dick. He’s still hurting. We all are.” Dick looked to Cassandra who was fiddling with a necklace. A necklace that was missing another half “No, he has a point. I wanted to get out of Bruce’s shadow so badly. I was also caught up with my police work in Bludhaven that I pushed mom away.” Before the trip, he and Bruce would get into nasty arguments in regards of how to save people. And yet, Y/N managed to plan and convince everyone to come together as a family. Cassandra took a deep breath as she noticed his posture. The slumped shoulders, bags under his eyes, messy hair. “Come, Alfred want you to join us.” ** Jason laid in his bed staring at the broken up popcorn ceiling. The sound of car horns and random city noise faintly heard in the distance as he pondered about the one thing he’d surly get in trouble for. Roy peaked into the room and noticed the fancy envelope on the coffee table “You’re not going again?” Jason closed his eyes as Roy stood by the entrance with his arms crossed. “No” Roy let out an annoyed sigh “Why are you running away?” “I’m not” Jason grumbled as he turned his body to face away from his friend. “You haven’t seen them since… the accident.” Roy noticed Jason flinch at the mention of that tragic day. “You know how much family meant to your parents, and you’re running away from the very people who have been trying to-.” “Shut up, don’t talk out of your ass. You’re asking to get shot.” Roy walked towards Jason and tossed sealed mails “Distancing yourself isn’t the answer. Talk to me” Jason let out a huff before attempting to leave the rickety apartment. “Jay!” “Fuck off” “Jason I will annoy you till I get an actual answer” Roy went up to his friend and grabbed his arm. He was met with a punch that sent him back a couple of steps. “I couldn’t do anything!” Jason shouted. He felt his head spinning. His fists tightened as he straightened up to face Roy “I, Jason Todd. Red Hood. The man back from the dead. The guy that runs these corrupts streets. I couldn’t Save my fucking Parents! You think I can face the rest of them? After I Failed all of them?!” Roy rubbed his cheek as he crisscrossed his feet “You blame yourself.” Jason turned to face the window. He looked down in his hands “Everyday I think about that night. The court of Owls, they are the ones responsible, and yet I cant avenge them properly.” “Because you want to kill them? Ya know, Avenge and Revenge are two very different things. You guys... The Waynes, have not only pressed charges but actually took them down through the justice system. You’ve already Avenged them Jason. Seems like what you’re craving is to blow some heads.” Jason went quiet yet again. Roy finally stood “Well, let me say this. you’re doing something far greater then Revenge.” “Oh yea? And what am I doing?” Roy tossed one of Jasons guns. The man caught it, confused “rubber bullets.” Roy smiled before he nudged his head towards the invitation pile “Jason, If your family truly blamed you for what happened. Would they really put in this much effort to see you? ” *** Tim typed on his laptop slowly as he took another sip of his coffee. Dinner was awkward to say the least. Having Dick back for some time surly eased his mind. However Damian’s hostility didn’t go unnoticed. If it wasn’t for Alfred surly another argument would Ensue. Honestly, Tim hasn’t gotten better all this time. Sure he’s functioning, leading Wayne enterprises and fighting the bad guys. Stephanie however was the most perceptive with his dramatic change since that night. Locking himself in his room practically glued on his laptop. Stephanie slowly opened the door to his room. “Timmy… it’s time for sleep. Don’t worry about patrol tonight. Cas and I got it.” She looked around to see a messy room. Except for his trophy stand. That space hasn’t been touched, since it was the last thing Y/N and Bruce build and organized with him. Tim let out a slight chuckle. Sleep. Something the family hasn’t been doing so well on. The only person able to put Tim to bed passed away in her husbands arms. “Ill be done in a minute” Annoyed Stephanie looked at how he sat in front of the laptop screen. The clear bags under his eyes. The lack of self care or organization. She finally had enough of leaving him alone to grieve. she snatched the laptop. Removing the headphones in the process “Tim! You can’t run away. We are here. You’ve been avoiding us and getting lost in this damn computer!” Tim watched with wide eyes as she carelessly moved the device. “Give it back.” “Hell no.” “Stop waving it around like that!” “Or what.” Cassandra and Damian entered the room. Cassandra immediately noticed Tim’s shaky hands and Stephanie’s stand-offish demeanor. “P-please.” he pleaded. It was so soft, as if a mouse spoke to them. The headphones finally fell to the floor. Disconnecting it in the process. “Todd! Unhand me you baboon.” “Ma! Watch me throw the blood son in the lake.” “Jay be careful!” Everyone froze. The sound of their mothers voice sent chills down their spine. Stephanie gently placed the laptop back onto the table and she became mesmerized with the Video. ~~ “Tim? Why are you smiling like that?” A chuckling sound could be heard. Tim was the one holding the camera as Cassandra and Stephanie snuck up behind Bruce with an ice bucket. “No reason mom. You’re looking great.” Just then Ice water was poured onto the sleeping billionaire who shot up from his slumber. Y/N wiped off some water that landed on her while laughing at her husband. Bruce’s eyes squinted making Y/N laugh harder. Tim’s hand slightly waved gaining Bruce’s attention. Tim pointed to Jason who was just about to throw Damian in the water. Bruce nodded and quickly stood up. “Wow. They got you good.” Y/N wiped her eyes. Then she squealed as Bruce picked her up bridal style and ran to the water. “Wait NO! I just bought this sundress. BRUCE!” Both Damian and Y/N hit the water at the same time. ~~ “Have you been watching these?” Stephanie couldn’t take her eyes off the footage. “Yea…” Damian sucked his teeth “why?” Cassandra noticed Tim’s shoulders tense up. “You’ve found something.” “What?!”Stephanie turned to face her “what do you mean.” Tim rewound the footage and paused just before Damian and Y/N got dunked. He zoomed into the one of the trees on the other side of the lake. Damian slightly pushed Cassandra to the side to get a better look at the screen. “We were stalked the whole trip…” Tim whispered in shame as he held his head low. The image of two beings with owl masked took over the screen. They all couldn’t believe their eyes. “so, you’ve been rewatching the footage all this time for this!” Damian snapped as he turned to Tim “and you didn’t bother Sharing this information!” Tim placed his hands on his head “it’s my fault. If only I payed more attention. They were always around us… it’s my fault. Before the car crashed I lost signal and- I should of-” Cassandra lightly pinched Damian. He looked her in eyes only to be met with a glare. Stephanie gently placed her hands on Tim’s “Timmy it’s not your fault. You didn’t kill them.” Tim’s lips wobbled as Stephanie slowly stood him up and lead him to the bed. Cassandra side eyed Damian with a clear message: if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all. Cassandra sat on Tim’s other side. The two ladies provided him much comfort that he clearly needed. He cried for the first time in a long while. ** ~Later that night~ Alfred pressed buttons on the keyboard “Master Damian, Gorden would like to meet with you in 45 minutes.” He heard the bat mobile rev it’s engine “inform him I’ll be on the way. Please send him the evidence I’ve gathered.” “Yes sir.” Alfred kept a straight face as one of his many grandchildren left the cave. Once he was sure that he was by himself he reviewed the evidence Tim had found. He frowned upon seeing the screenshots of the various owled stalkers as tears slowly streamed down his eyes. When he heard the news of their death he couldn’t believe it. For the first time ever he lost his cool and in a blind rage sabotage the owls on all fronts. He remembered many police and GCPD raiding the houses of many elites. Even though he knew they could just pay off the crooked cops eventually, Alfred wanted to make them suffer for taking the lives of his family. “Alfred. Come in.” Red Hoods voice came into the screen, bringing him back to reality. “Yes Redhood?” “Why is Damian on my turf?” “I’m sorry?” Redhood rolled his eyes “Batman is beating up Black Skulls goons. Why is he here?” Alfred's eyes widened. A serious case of Deja vu swarmed him. Especially coming from Jason of all people. He pulled up a map of the city, a red dot weaved its way through the traffic. “That’s not Batman.” Alfred said sending the information to Jason. Jason’s blood ran cold. He let out a small laugh as he looked up at the imposter Darknight.

“Hey dickhead. I thought the blood son told you he’s got it.”

The Batman punched the last guard before slowly walking towards Redhood. Jason didn’t move, he was curious to see what would happen. The man stood in front of him, and that’s when Jason felt his blood run cold.

Jason jumped back and pulled out his guns “who the hell are you?” The man’s head began to slightly twitch “D-Dick? Grayson” His body soon convulsed, his legs began to tremble “Richard, Jason, Tim, Damian, Cassandra, Stephanie… Y/N” He placed his hands on his head, as if he were going through a nasty headache “I-Im sorry. Y/N, s-she’s out there” Jason holstered his weapons and ran to him. He looked around first to make sure the coast was clear before kneeling down “Bruce?” “F-Find her. She’s- Your mother is-” Suddenly Jason was flung back. Pain shot up his chest as he landed on the ground. He recovered quickly. Standing up only to be met with another punch. Before he knew it, the Dark Knight was gone. Jason felt the adrenaline pump through his veins. No way, no way Bruce returned. Someone used the pit. But that’s impossible. “Alfred. Get an excavator.” Jason shouted as he ran to his motorcycle ~~~ Alfred frowned as Jason continued to dig. He know eventually the other children would return from patrol, and for once he truly wishes his little hunch was nothing more then a thought. Jason finally heard a clunk, he quickly swept the dirt along the casket of his supposed adoptive father. He opened it, seemingly on cue the moonlight shone upon an empty casket. “No. No no no!” Alfred fought tears himself, how could he let something like this happen again. Jason’s rage was incomprehensible. Who dared do something like this. And for how long. The snap of a twig caused the butler to turn slightly. “You have some nerve Todd. I knew you’d do something like this.” Damian then looked to Alfred “and you’re helping him?” “Master Damian. It’s not what it seems. I can assure you there is reason behind this.” Alfred stated as calmly as he could. Damian in a rage grabbed onto Alfred’s collar “have you been keeping information from me aswell?” “Damian!” Cassandra, And Stephanie pulled Damian from Alfred, whilst Dick stood infront of Alfred protectively. “J-jason? W-what’s going on. Don’t tell me you.” Tim stuttered over his words as the first thing he noticed was the empty casket that once held the body of his father. “I didn’t do anything.” Jason barked “but it’s exactly what it is. Someone took ‘em. And I saw Bruce during patrol.” Jason attempted to jump out the hole but fell. He let out a huff before trying again only to grab onto something. He looked up to see Dick who gave him a soft smile before hoisting him up. “Thanks.” Jason whispered ”Of course” There was a moment of silence before Damian pushed Cassandra off him “Where are you going?” She asked. “I’m going to see my mother. She is the only woman that could be capable of something like this.” It was faint, but Cassandra heard his voice shake slightly. “I’ll go with” Stephanie walked towards Damian and pinched his cheek, causing the teen to grumble “You’ll need backup. And someone to keep your head steady.” Dick walked over to Tim, the teen looked up at his older brother with tear stained eyes. “Does that mean mom. Mom is back too?” Tim had mixed feelings. On the one hand this was wrong. This was so wrong in many ways, but on the other hand this is a second chance. A chance to safe Y/N and Bruce. Dick brought him into a hug before looking at his family “Alright listen up. Damian, Cassandra, Steph. You three investigate the Al Ghul’s while Tim, Jason and I will look into mom. Since the court of owls were behind this, we’ll see if there has been any activity.” Jason brushed his fingers through his hair as the sun began to rise “We sould inform the league, the more eyes the better.” He let out a long sigh “This family is too complicated.”

#batmom reader #batman angst #batman x reader #BatFam #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #stephanie brown #Cassandra Cain

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pollylynn · 1 year

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Title: Watchman WC: 800

“I don't want to pretend.” —Kate Beckett, A Chill Goes Through Her Veins (1 x 05)

She regrets the Bat Cave metaphor. She regrets raising the specter of Alfred, and she especially regrets referring to him as a multi-millionaire crime fighter. Some of that is predictably instantaneous: she chides herself for somehow forgetting that his ego never needs feeding. And there's a part of her that hasn’t gotten one bit less raw over the last decade that wants to knock the wind out of him for reducing her pain to a comic book plot line.

It doesn’t make a tremendous amount of sense. Not that anything at all makes sense when someone hits that particular nerve, but that’s kind of the point. Frustratingly, enough, he’d tapped it none-too-gently less than twenty-four hours after they’d met. Yes, he’d noticed her dad’s watch, and yes, he had of course felt compelled to play smartest kid in the room about it.

But now, he is being—for him—kind of sweet. And though it pains her to admit it, he’s also being helpful. Which is why she’s there, late in the evening, intruding on his strange family circle in the first place, right? She needs someone’s help, and none of the usual someones will do.

Ryan and Esposito hardly even bother to hide their smirks about the Castle-induced overtime she's been putting in on cases lately. And they certainly aren’t hiding their exasperation when they get roped in because she’s now in the business of cutting lose perfectly good obsessives, greasy nightclub owners, and violent drug dealers because their unfortunately resident Batman knockoff can’t leave well-enough alone.

She can’t go the boys or to the Captain or even to Lanie without a lecture about getting a life, letting it go, switching it off. So she goes to him, and doesn't that make her Commissioner Gordon—or worse, bumbling Officer O’Hara? So, yes, she has reason to regret the Bat Cave metaphor pretty much right away.

And then the case takes its turn and her regret turns with it. He can’t leave well enough alone. He can’t reconcile the characters of Former Detective Sloan the put-upon Deloris Marsh, and she finds herself forced to scour the very darkest recesses of a Bat Cave that could have been. She finds herself forced to confront Ben Davidson.

In some ways, that’s simple. She is not lying when she lays out the difference between a cop and a writer for Castle. There is a fierce, bitter kind of pride in knowing that she is no Sloan. She does not engage in shoddy, I figured it was gonna end bad. . . or I saw no reason to doubt . . . police work. She has never decided how any victim's story ends through lack of effort or failure to see a case through.

So she follows procedure, as she has in every case for her entire career. She ushers the man into the back of her car and drives in total—miraculous, considering who is riding shotgun—silence from White Plains back to the city. She sits across the table from Ben Davidson and puts out of her mind the image of his granddaughters shrieking with laughter as he comes crashing out of the bushes, playing monster. She fixes in it, instead, the image of their tears at the death of their father, the nights they must have awakened wailing and crying out for him. She looks him in the eye and declares that killing Sam Cavanaugh was not the answer.

But she doesn't know that for a fact. She doesn’t know what an answer looks like for her, for the Ben Davidsons of the world. For Bela and Simone Cavanaugh when they're old enough to understand the enormity of their father’s actions, their grandfather’s . . .

And that, Detective Beckett, is why you are here.

She became a cop to solve her mother’s murder. His glib, nutshell version of the defining event of her life isn’t substantially different from the one she’s told a handful of times to less than a handful of people over the last ten years. That’s the story. Except Ben Davidson makes her wonder if that's the story at all.

She has never been to war, but lord knows guns are easy to come by. She has never had the opportunity to demand the truth from her mother’s killer and offer forgiveness in return. She has never had the raw rush of satisfaction at reneging on such an offer and letting her rage speak—letting it roar at last. She will never have that opportunity.

She is a cop. Her city-issued piece sits quietly, heavily in a box with the objects that connect her to life she saved, the life she lost. She doesn’t get to decide how the story ends.

In the wake of Ben Davidson, she doesn’t know if that’s nobility or cowardice.

A/N: Although the late-night editor has not spared you this story, it has spared you considerable material on all the (non-Burton) times Batman has caught and confronted his parents' killer. You're welcome-ish?

image via homeofthenutty

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angelofrainfrogs · 9 months

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Spend the Night: Ch. 17

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

There’s nowhere left to run

There’s nowhere left to hide…

There’s no one left to hold us back tonight

And the show must go on

‘Cause we’re having just too much fun

We won’t stop now…

The night has just begun

~Too Much Fun by Akamodo~

The fox blanked for a second, not knowing what Gregory was referring to either, until he remembered their “prize” for getting through the trauma that was Fazer Blast.

“The Fazblaster!” Michael replied quickly, trying to quell the bear’s wrath as much as possible. He was clearly not a fan of Gregory having secondary access to a laser gun outside of its appropriate attraction—which was kind of endearing, in an ironic way. Michael tapped a fist to his chest plate, where he’d decided to store the potential weapon. “I stuck it in here in case we needed it.”

After sending Michael an apologetic glance, Gregory bit down a smile. He found it funny regardless, but would try his best not to showcase the humor. Charlie lightly knocked into Gregory as she picked up the pace to walk beside him, watchful as ever.

“Quit making your dad worry, kiddo,” Charlie chided, tone light-handed enough to show she was scolding him for good reasons. Gregory's giggles stopped, but the smile stayed. It curled slightly as his hazel eyes met Charlie's empty sockets.

“Alright, big sis,” he quipped back, clearly in a silly mood. Charlie raised her hand and pinched his cheek, moving his face back and forth uncomfortably as Gregory attempted to bat her away, nearly failing to keep his laughter from echoing around the empty mall.

He really thought she was acting like a big sister?

“I'm serious, twerp! I know you're excited for slushees and getting tonight done, but you have to be focused!” she hissed, though for someone with Charlie's sweet voice, it sounded all bark and no bite.

“Urgh—fine, fine! Just quit it; I bruise like a banana, dude...” Gregory bumped into Charlie as a last retaliation before turning a diligent eye to the journey before them.

Michael felt the smiling joints in his face stretching dangerously close to snapping. He couldn’t help it though—hearing Charlie referred to as Gregory’s sibling and seeing her subsequent reaction made a pang of happy relief shoot through his very soul.

It was clear that Gregory trusted them all to keep him safe, not just Freddy. But to hear so blatantly that he considered Charlie’s protectiveness as sisterly was another level of familial closeness that none of the ghosts were prepared for. Hell, Mike was still trying to get over the fact that in less than 48 hours, an animatronic bear had become a better father figure towards all three of them than his own parent…

Of course, Mike was curious what Gregory thought about him, too. Was he considered a big brother now? A good one this time—one that his siblings wanted to hang out with.

A brother they felt safe around…

Michael honestly didn’t know how to react to this concept. In a sense, this is what he wanted for decades: to be the big brother he should’ve been all those years ago. Gregory might not be related by blood, but neither were the Emilys, and Michael considered them family; Charlie was as much of a sister as anyone could be. Even Freddy fell into that category now, as strange as that was to admit.

But… Mike would have to wait and see. He was brought out of these internal musings when they entered the main atrium and Freddy held up an arm for them to pause.

“Wait,” the bear whispered, eyes narrowed and head cocked to the side. “Do you hear something?”

Stopped now, the group looked to Freddy, visions quickly scattering around them as an odd scraping noise became apparent. What with the lowered visibility now cast in the purple lighting of the atrium, Gregory especially struggled to see where that distant noise stemmed from.

A grunt and the sound of someone straining and metal denting drew Gregory's vision skyward. On the floor directly parallel to their path was a supremely pissed-off chicken. Above her head, fingers digging into its digital display was a fully stocked Fizzy Faz vending machine. Upon being seen, she bent knees and snapped up, sending the metal box falling with its destination atop the quartet.

“RUN!” was all Gregory could muster, his brain acting on fight or flight at the short glimpse of danger.

The boy took off, dragging the lightweight Charlie at his side. Surprisingly, she’d gone limp at his wailing and had been easily knocked from the falling machine's path. Together they managed to jump a distance away and narrowly avoid the burst metal shards it created. The sound of glass from its LCD menu loudly shorted out, sparking blue in the darkness. It illuminated to Gregory that Freddy and Michael's path was only just caught off by Chica's violent plan. The chicken loudly stomped her foot, cracking the tile beneath her.

“I WON'T LET YOU GET AWAY WITH IT! You OR that rotten kid!” she crowed angrily, heading now for the stairs that started a ways behind the group.

“Take Gregory and go!” Freddy shouted to Puppet, his gaze swiveling around to take stock of their situation. His first instinct was to try and rush past the broken machine to reach Gregory and Charlie, but blue sparks still spewed violently as the vestiges of electrical current petered out. Michael grabbed his arm and pulled Freddy away at the last second before a volt shocked his system.

“Freddy, this way!” Michael hissed, dragging the bear in a wide arc around the debris. As they moved, Mike kept an eye on their path forward as Freddy looked to Chica. If they’d thought last night was bad, they had no idea what she had in store for them now. William’s virus was clearly going haywire, and Freddy had never seen such an angry expression on the bird’s usually kind, cheery face.

“Chica! Please calm down!” Freddy called as he and Michael moved into a spot directly between the approaching bird and their friends. Freddy knew his pleas would fall on deaf ears, but at least he might be able to provide a distraction for the others to get away. He crouched into a defensive stance, protectively pushing Mike behind his back.

“Dad, don't—” Gregory was heaved back, lifted under the arms despite massively protesting it. Charlie had to avoid being kicked, as Gregory was still operating in the most base self-preservation instinct. He couldn't deal with being separated again, and despite his shouting for Freddy and Michael, Charlie only sped up the pace.

“Stop screaming!” she hissed, dipping through tables and party favors to head for the bowling alley, one hand now clasped over Gregory's mouth. She feared if someone else heard them escaping, they might not make it out of the situation intact.

Chica was stomping her way down the stairs, footfalls so intense it sounded as if she could nearly bust through the rebar. Even the panels on her foot casings were looking stressed despite today’s maintenance, cracks forming up her legs from unneeded bashing and abuse.

“So why'd you do it, huh? You think you know a guy… Why'd you dismantle Monty, Freddy?! He idolized you!” Chica spouted accusatorially, facing off against Freddy with nothing but contempt in her eyes. Oil stained her face, emanating from her eye sockets due to a popped gasket. It gave her the appearance of running makeup from crying, and only multiplied the crazed look as Chica stared down the bear.

“You probably got rid of Bonnie, too! Who's next, you murderer? Me? Roxy?! I won't let you hurt her, that's for sure!” the bird shrieked, raising clenched fists as if ready to box her once-trusted friend.

“How dare you suggest I decommissioned Bonnie?!” Freddy snapped back, eyes wide with hurt. “I had nothing to do with that—none of us did! You don’t understand—”

The bear stopped, closing his eyes for just a second to compose himself. Bonnie was a sore spot even after all this time, but he couldn’t let that get to him. That wasn’t the cause of Chica’s anger. With steely-eyed determination Freddy stood to his full height, shoulders squared as he faced down the enraged bird.

“I will admit: I did damage Monty,” Freddy confessed, loudly pushing through Chica’s shriek of rage as he tried to explain. “But it was self-defense. He was too far gone—he was going to kill an innocent child! I could not let that happen!”

“Freddy, keep her talking,” Michael muttered behind his shoulder. From his position, he was able to see the bowling alley out of the corner of his right eye and he’d just caught sight of a dark shape slipping into the shadows near one of the escalators leading up to it. Even if they couldn’t take Chica down this second, maybe they could at least stall her for a bit while the others got to relative safety.

Chica considered Freddy's words, and for a moment it seemed like he was talking sense into her now easily-agitated mind. Though as she followed Foxy’s eyes, watching as the lanky Puppet stole the child away, she began to flip out again.

“That kid?! Freddy—he's using you!” her mind somehow fabricated. “He's a little criminal and he's not going to stop until he's made you destroy everyone!”

She said this with such certainty that if Freddy hadn’t already known and loved Gregory, she might’ve sounded believable. It was bitterly sweet that her version of reality was not the true one. Apparently, William had forgotten to call off the band and they were in fact still out for Gregory's blood.

Chica's vision flashed Michael once more. She stepped towards him and swung a fist aimed directly at the side of his head, irritated beyond repair from the simple act of having seen the child once again. “And you, ew—shut up, traitor!”

To everyone’s surprise including his own, Michael’s reflexes were fast. A millisecond before Chica’s fist make a sizable dent in his face, his paw instinctively shot up and caught her mid-swing. For a terrible moment he was staring directly into those oil-stained eyes, desperately fighting Chica’s solid strength with his own wild fear. A hairline crack in the tile floor began from where Michael’s peg leg jammed down in an attempt to hold himself up as Chica bared her weight upon him. She was smaller and her mind was lost, but she sure as hell had a better handle on this fight than he did.

Suddenly the bird’s weight lifted away, causing Mike to pitch forward in an attempt to counterbalance the abrupt shift in his center. He soon realized this was Freddy’s doing—he’d grabbed Chica’s other arm and bodily flung her across the room, sending her sliding painfully across the floor with a metallic screech. The bear’s patience and intolerance for violence were clearly nearing their end.

Michael flashed him a shaky smile and thumbs-up to signal he was okay, then got to work dislodging his peg leg from the floor. Freddy turned to Chica, slowly approaching as she recovered.

Chica's surprise over Foxy's faster than life reflexes was cut short by the powerful throw Freddy had in store for her. She was more or less launched claw foot over feathered head at least fifteen feet back, the impact cracking more of the glittery black tiling. In her tumble, one of her arms had bent and snapped under the strain.

It seemed that the animatronics responded unexpectedly to Freddy's returned violence. As Chica recovered, instead of going for round two she rolled as fast as she could to her side to run away—moving in the opposite direction of Michael and Freddy, she tripped over her now damaged and dismembered left wing. Chica cried out, falling again in a hysteric heap on the floor.

She is scared of me.

That thought reverberated through Freddy’s mind, blocking out everything else. Sure, he’d done much worse to Monty than a toss across the floor, but the gator’s eyes had only held deep, dark anger.

But Chica… she was different. She stared up at Freddy with absolute terror as he approached, more oil seeming to leak out of her eye sockets and create the semblance of fresh tear streaks as she desperately tried to scramble away.

She is scared… of ME.

Close enough to touch now, the bear began reaching out a hand, his expression full of regretful apology. “Chica, I—”

“No, Freddy—come on!” It was Michael’s turn for the quick save, grasping Freddy’s other paw and tugging him away harshly. He was glad Chica was cowering; maybe they could use this fear of her bandmate to their advantage somehow… But for now they needed to regroup, and they needed to do it before the bird freaked out even more and tried to attack again.

“But—”

“For fuck's sake MOVE, you stubborn bear!”

With one more insistent tug, Michael successfully got Freddy to move away from the prone chicken. Mike kept a tight grip on him, especially as Freddy peered over his shoulder to check on his friend. He was clearly disturbed by what he’d done, and Michael only hoped that seeing the one they were really trying to protect from Chica’s wrath would snap Freddy out of his thoughts.

***

How long does it take to lose trust in a friend?

Some it takes years, ruminating on actions and behavior. For others, mere seconds. Luckily for Freddy, Chica wouldn’t remember the moment she lost trust in the bear once dawn encroached the horizon outside. However, it was abundantly clear that he would always recall the look of vindicated fear that over took her features.

Abandoning her crushed, useless arm, Chica fled in the opposite direction from Bonnie Bowl—likely aiming to hide, or warn Roxy.

That is, if Roxy was still capable of listening to even Chica's messed-up reason.

***

In Bonnie bowl, hiding places were scarce. Guarding a closet with a chair lifted defensively over her head stood a vigilant Charlie.

Was the hiding spot obvious? Yes.

Would Charlie let her body be broken before letting someone get to said closet? Also yes.

***

Why were the damn elevators so SLOW?!

This is the question that repeated in Michael's mind as he and Freddy took the metal box down into the bowling alley. He tapped his foot impatiently, leaning against the cool metal wall with arms crossed as he observed Freddy carefully. The bear seemed to be in shock, though at least he was compliant enough to let Mike tote him around.

Michael himself had a few things to process from that encounter, as the tingling anxiety slowly working its way up the base of his spine indicated. He could get to that later, though—after he and Freddy were reunited with the others. Thankfully, the elevator doors soon opened. Michael worried that he'd have to drag Freddy with him, but the bear followed obediently, perking up at their surroundings as if he'd finally remembered the whole point of this fiasco. The bowling alley was quiet save for the whirring mechanics of a few random S.T.A.F.F. bots, but they were focused on patrolling the arcade portion of the area so the animatronics paid them no mind.

“Gregory?” Freddy called softly, looking around for any sign of the boy. “Charlie? We are here—everything is alright. Chica is... taken care of for now.”

Upon hearing Freddy's call Charlie put the stool down, waiting for them to come into view as she waved.

“Guys—” she called, relief evident in her tone. “—thank god. I put him in the supply closet and told him to lock it. There weren't many hiding spots in here.”

She ushered the boys over to an unassuming door and knocked a secret pattern against the wood grain. Once finished, a set of two locks could be heard from the inside, where Gregory answered with his camera primed and ready in hand.

“Is she gone...?” he asked, glancing to Freddy. He looked bummed out, and Gregory was ready to comfort his dad if necessary.

Despite Freddy's self-loathing at the thought of hurting Chica, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Gregory safe and sound. With a quick nod, Freddy crouched and held out his arms for a hug—even if Gregory didn't need one right now, he certainly did. When Gregory fell into Freddy's chest, he gave him a huge squeeze.

“My hero,” Gregory told him with a soft certainty. He needed to remind his ursine father that he was still good. The fact that he felt bad while having to defend against his friends proved that he had a conscience—that he was a good guy on the inside. Gregory wasn't sure if he could respect Freddy more than he did now.

Meanwhile, Michael sank heavily into a nearby plastic seat, the sound of metal softly clinking together filling the room as his body began shaking of its own accord. With Chica’s immediate threat gone, the subdued after effects of his own shock were starting to hit. Michael leaned forward, head clasped in his paw as he stared blankly at the floor.

That… had been terrifying.

That was the first up close and personal encounter with a crazed animatronic besides “Bonnie” that Michael had since waking up in the Pizzaplex. He’d been caught up in the moment, fear and ghostly adrenaline sharpening his mind just enough to get him and Freddy out of danger… but Chica’s attack scared him shitless. Her sudden lunge gave him flashbacks to countless night guard jobs where he’d fended off animatronics just like her. Of course, those had contained the souls of dead children who thought Michael was his father come to taunt them in their afterlife. There was always a sliver of a chance he could appeal to them, explain the situation and they’d back off, at least for the night.

But Glamrock Chica was just an AI—and in a way, that made her even scarier.

Sure, Freddy’s AI managed to develop a sense of human-level morality that Michael could appeal to, but Chica’s hadn’t—nor would it be able to as long as she was under William’s control. Thank god Mike wasn’t alive anymore, or he most certainly would have died from that punch to the skull.

These racing thoughts left Michael a trembling mess in the chair, arms wrapped around himself as if that would help somehow. His hook was tearing a new hole in his already-tattered coat, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

Charlie had noticed Michael's state pretty quickly. It was a good opportunity to stop dwelling on the leftover thoughts from this afternoon’s meeting with Cassidy, so she’d distract herself with other people's problems and push her own to the wayside as she always had. Her terrible coping mechanisms had luckily gone undetected by her friends thus far, which suited Charlie just fine. She placed a hand on Michael's hooked hand, stilling him.

“Mike?” she asked softly, unsure if she could get a response. She’d be lucky to drag him out of this alarming stupor he'd been placed in. It looked like an anxiety attack, something Charlie hadn't helped him with since the mid-80s. As soon as Michael stopped tearing into his coat, she pulled her hand back and asked him: “Can you talk? Are you... alright?”

For a horrible moment, Michael was back in one of the old Fazbear locations. The music box had wound down to dark, oppressive silence. Damn, he'd forgotten turn the key during his last round of the building. Now the Puppet was here, pissed off as hell and about to try and claw his eyes out because they looked just a bit too much like her murderer's.

Mike threw his arms up to protect his face, but was surprised when they smacked into something hard that made a metal clanging noise upon impact. It was... a snout? Foxy's to be exact, similar to the mask Michael had as a kid, but this one didn't move when he tried to lift it.

Suddenly, the reality of where he was crashed over him like a wave and he sucked in a simulated, breath.

“Oh... Charlie...” Michael simply stared at her for a second before abruptly pulling her into a tight hug. “S-Sorry, I... got a little lost, there. I'm... I'm okay. Freddy and I... we kicked Chica's ass, and as long as you and Gregory are fine, I'll be alright.”

She squished against Michael, quick to hold on. It was clear as day that he’d been scared by Chica out there. Whatever happened left Mike with a long stare, apparent even in those mechanical eyes. Charlie beat herself up over not knowing what to say, unaware that just being there could help this awful and oppressive feeling. She reached up to card long fingers through his mane, knowing that when she had hair, the feeling of someone playing with it while she was upset calmed her down. It was why she did it to Gregory too, the action made to soothe its recipient. Charlie wondered if Michael was even aware of the sensation.

“Everyone's okay, thanks to you and Freddy,” she finally mustered, knowing the boys needed their fair share of praise for the effort they put in to keep each other safe.

Michael smiled at her reassurance, glad that she could still comfort him despite everything they'd been through. He could sense her messing with his wild mane, but it wasn't quite the same feeling as if it was really his. The gesture was appreciated, though. He recalled being in this same position with Charlie many times as kids—sitting on the floor of her room, hugging each other tightly after some traumatic event that left Michael in an anxiety-ridden state that was only quelled by a long hug and some reassuring words.

As his best friend, Charlie was the only one who got to see him like this. Yes, the neurotic tendencies increased with Michael's years and experiences, but they were always there somewhat. He just bounced back a lot quicker as a kid and put on a brave face to the world.

In earlier days, when they were much younger and innocent, it'd been small things like losing his favorite toy that could set him off. In later years, once Charlie had forgiven Michael for what he'd done, it was to comfort each other after Evan's death. And soon after that... Charlie's room was empty and barren of life, and Michael thought he'd never get to hug his best friend again.

Mike held her closer at this memory. He finally spared a glance at the others, who of course were looking at him with great concern. Freddy was now upright with Gregory's hand in his, and Michael gave them what was quickly becoming his—Foxy's?—trademark grin.

“Hey, I'm alright—really. Gregory, you won't believe how awesome your dad was out there!”

Charlie clapped his back, urging him to pretend everything was alright for the time being. They could fall apart together after Gregory was safe. She pulled away from Michael's hug, thinking it better for both him and Gregory to speak.

“You guys don't even have a scratch on you!” Gregory noticed, impressed by their combined skills. He glanced away, as if he was unsure of whether he should say what was on his mind. “...But you are being careful, too, right?”

At some points, Gregory understood they wanted to keep him safe. He’d been discreetly slipped the role of “baby,” it seemed. It was nice being cared for, but Gregory had begun to see not just the physical toll it was taking, but the mental strain on all his friends. He looked from Michael to Freddy, then over to Charlie.

Charlie was the first to answer, thinking quickly. “We're fine! Don't worry so much, we’re almost to the mystery slushee. Remember?”

She tried to side track from having a discussion about their feelings with a little boy who likely couldn't handle the complexity of their scenario. She spoke for the rest of them, figuring they felt similarly. There was no need to focus of her own baggage when there were obviously more pressing matters on the docket.

“We are being as careful as we can, superstar,” Freddy said, ruffling Gregory's hair. It wasn't a lie—they were being careful! It was just hard to predict how animatronics infected with the influence of a decades-dead child murderer would behave, and all they could do was react accordingly. “Now, as Charlie said—we are almost to the mystery mix! I know you are excited to try some!”

“Oh, this is either going to be the best thing ever, or the worst!” Michael laughed, standing up to follow after Freddy and Gregory. He was really interested in the boy's opinion of this gnarly slushee flavor, and focusing on his attention on this completely normal event helped a great deal.

After all, why dwell in the past when there were much more exciting things happening in the present?

Gregory's morbid curiosity had gotten the better of him, watching in amusement as Charlie took the lead. She jumped, rolling over the smooth top of the counter and falling behind it like a ragdoll, then flailed for a cup and went to the ever-churning slushee machine. After a quick glance, she’d been relieved to see they didn't yet switch out the mystery mix from their “Daily Special!” slushee dispenser.

What had filled the extra-large slushee cup was an orange earth-toned mixture. It reeked of tomato, basil, and cheese with a saccharine finish. Still, Gregory eagerly took it with no second thoughts about how off-putting the scent was.

It was all in the texture. It threw him off completely with its frosty ice crystals, crunching and melting in his mouth where there clearly should have been a doughy bread feeling instead.

“It... sure does taste like pizza!” Gregory laughed, wiping his mouth as he made a scrunched up face. “That's weird—I wish you guys could try this!”

This was a cursed slushee. Of course the murder-chicken loved it, Gregory thought.

“On second thought, based on that reaction I'm kind of glad I can't,” Michael said, only half-joking. That thing sure was... something else. Yet another Fazbear creation that shouldn't exist, brought into the world to torment the lives of innocent humans. Well, unless you liked pizza-flavored ice, that is.

“It is a rather divisive drink,” Freddy commented, his voice flowing through the open doorway to the storage area as he rummaged around for packets of pre-mixed flavoring. His search was successful, and he emerged behind the counter holding up a bag full of the orange substance. It was even stranger in this form, the artificial pizza-liquid sloshing in a clear plastic bag like some biohazard just waiting to be released to wreak havoc on the world.

“Now the question is—” Mike began once he'd torn his eyes away from the mesmerizing concoction. “—where do we lure Chica? It's got to be somewhere that can do some serious damage if we want to take her out for the night...”

As Freddy showed off the biohazard orange bag, Charlie raised her floppy hand in suggestion.

“Don't judge me for thinking about this but... what about the trash compactor? Surely a place this huge has one near the kitchen,” Charlie suggested. Given it had remnants of Chica’s favorite comfort food— “She'll probably already be around there, and the compactor might also be the, uh... quickest way.”

Freddy's face slipped into a grimace, but only for a second before changing to a totally neutral expression. He couldn't keep skirting around the facts—he had to accept that the only way his crazed friends would no longer be a threat is if they were broken beyond function. Not beyond repair; they'd be fixed up and good as new when William was gone. They just needed to be decommissioned temporarily so they weren't an obstacle towards a goal that would save them in the end.

“Yes... that is the best place for us to set a trap,” Freddy agreed, his tone a bit muter than usual. He wasn't about to shut down or break into hysterics, which was all the others could ask for. He glanced in the direction of Bonnie Bowl's exit, frowning softly. “Hopefully she is recovering and will not still be wandering the atrium...”

“Freddy, I think... I think even if she does notice us, as long as she sees you and not Gregory, she'll stay away,” Michael added gently, trying to be encouraging in a roundabout way. He looked at Freddy questioningly, and the bear sighed and nodded, knowing what Mike was about to say next. “Chica's already pretty damaged—not only were all those weird stress fractures back and worse than last night, but Freddy sort of unintentionally took off her arm when trying to help me.”

Whistling lowly, Gregory thought of how brutal it must’ve looked. He kind of wished that he could’ve seen the carnage, though he had a strong feeling Freddy wouldn’t want him exposed to that sort of thing, let alone not wanting to show a more violent side of himself.

“I could hide inside your hatch if she’s still roaming, Mike,” Gregory suggested, reaching over and gently knocking against the service hatch on the front of Foxy's chest. He was sure it was still the same design as Freddy's. The gesture also showed how much Gregory trusted Michael, knowing that the fox was just as capable of keeping him safe as the others.

It was Michael's turn to grimace this time, though his expression stayed as he pressed a hand to his chest plate.

Gregory had a point—if he could fit inside Freddy's surprise compartment, he could definitely fit into Foxy's. Plus, Michael realized he hadn't actually needed to charge since taking possession of the animatronic. The only time he'd been in a charging pod was when Freddy was summoned to Parts & Service the day prior. He still doubted Foxy's body would last long outside the Pizzaplex, but he might not need to worry about Gregory's unexpected weight causing a power drain like Freddy.

And yet... for reasons only Michael knew—and Charlie, to some extent—he couldn't bring himself to readily agree. Willingly putting a child inside an animatronic suit, even one he was in complete control of, was not something Mike could do unless circumstances were absolutely dire.

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I'm still new to this whole 'animatronic body' thing,” he said eventually, attempting a grin as he ruffled Gregory's hair. “Freddy's a much better option for carrying you around—and the others still can't see you if you're hiding inside him, remember? So it'll be fine! Besides—” Stepping back to assure he had clearance, he opened Foxy's chest hatch to reveal the golden Fazerblaster secured and ready for action. “—I'm keeping a hold of this bad boy!”

Gregory gasped, pointing out the gun to Freddy.

“Look! That's the Faz-glock!” he told the bear, hoping that resolved Michael of any and all doubt. Charlie laughed, deciding to pick Gregory up and removing the partially-drunk slushee from his hands.

“I'll take that for now. We don't need you spilling that inside Freddy...,” Charlie murmured, finding that Gregory stole the cup back for one last sip. And no, he still didn't like it. He cringed once again before shoving the plastic cup back into Charlie's hand.

After Freddy opened up, Charlie gently placed Gregory away. She was well aware of Michael's fear and would rather not stress out Gregory's adoptive big brother.

“We'll see you when we've got Chica under control!” Charlie assured him gently.

“The journey should not be long, but let me know if you need a break, Gregory,” Freddy added, and after Gregory pulled his acknowledging thumbs-up back inside, Freddy closed up his chest plate. The boy really wasn't heavy—it was definitely Safe Mode that affected his battery so much, but he wasn't going to have that removed without fighting with any staff member that suggested it.

“I'll take that,” Michael said, grabbing the slushee mixture from Freddy's hand. “You've got more important cargo to focus on. Come on—let's get out of here.”

“Just say the word, Fredbear, and I’ll take him somewhere safe,” Charlie said quietly, reminding Freddy that in a pinch, she could take Gregory off his hands. She watched as Michael grabbed the fragrant mix and laughed. “Honestly—how tempted are you to drink that right now?”

“Honestly?” Michael held the liquid up to eye level, with a curious hum. “About... 75% tempted.”

“I would strongly advise against it,” Freddy had to chime in, though he knew Michael was just joking. Well... he hoped he was, at least.

To everyone's relief, they made it to the service elevator leading down to the kitchens without incident. There were no sign of animatronics, and also no sign of the night guard either. Freddy was sure she was wandering around somewhere, though he hoped Vanessa remained herself as long as possible. Not only did he hate the thought of her being controlled to do that horrible man's bidding, but the less time “Vanny” was around, the more time their little group had to get things done.

Eventually, they reached a set of swinging-style doors to the main kitchens. Michael peered through the porthole, eyes widening as he caught a flash of white and pink stumble out of a set of matching doors on the opposite side of the room. In a hushed whisper, Mike informed his friends: “She's definitely here—I just saw her leave the kitchen through the other side. The coast is clear now if one of us wanted to rush in and set the trap?”

Chica was covering her face with her one, good arm. Things were looking dire around the Pizzaplex. The staff had thrown away any and all pizza scraps, and there was little to no sign of Roxanne. Who knew if Freddy and his murderous gang had already gotten to her and Moon...

All Chica could do was face the corner and weep. The more upset she got, the worse the gaskets in her eyes popped and blew out, causing more oil to spill in gory streams down her rounded cheeks.

Though Charlie found herself disturbed at the all too realistic crying, she knew what she had to do.

“I'm the quietest one, I'll go.” She didn’t accept any debate as she held her hand out for the sticky, sugary pizza drink. The contents of that bag should make this part easy. “I'll stay inside. Someone's got to make sure she powers down...”

“Be careful,” Michael murmured, giving Charlie's shoulder a squeeze and moving into position next to one of the doors, ready to dash in if needed.

Freddy took up a similar post on the opposite side of the doors, though his goal was to hang back and try to avoid getting directly involved if possible. He pressed a hand over his chest hatch, reassuring himself that Gregory was still there and safe. Quietly so only Gregory could hear his voice echoing inside the compartment, Freddy told him: “We are almost done, superstar; hold on just a little longer.”

Luckily the seams on Freddy's outer casing were tight, and once they’d stopped moving Gregory closed his eyes and took blind selfies with the polaroid. They printed out and were quickly shoved in a pocket of Gregory’s cargo shorts before Freddy's voice caught his attention.

“I'm okay, Dad!” he assured, leaning forward and knocking gently against the inside of Freddy's chest.

Aloof, Charlie crouched down low, sneaking in through the saloon-kitchen style doors. The entry hadn't clocked with Chica, her own sobs filling her range of hearing. Carefully creeping, Charlie made sure to keep a good distance away from the bird and ignored her pitiable sniffles and sobs.

“I couldn't save you, Monty... I can't save anyone!” she lamented, unable to cope. That was, until that familiar sound of something falling into the trash compactor caught her attention.

Frightened for a moment, Chica whipped her head around a near 180 degrees. Purple, avian eyes slicked with oil had locked onto the ripe orange bag. Could that be…?

It was.

A brand new, unopened bag of Monty's Mystery Mix! Chica couldn't think of a better way to celebrate Monty's memory than with a half-gallon bag of artificial pizza-flavored drinks.

Slowly, clumsily, Chica pulled herself up. She remained unaware that Charlie watched her from inside a cabinet, her mission clear. Kneeling just outside the compactor, Chica ripped into the bag to carefully slur down its contents, crying while she did so only as the emotional pain became too great to bear.

Gurgling sounds would emit from Chica as Charlie pressed the button to the compactor, the bird becoming slower as a result of the sticky liquid clinging to her insides. The viscous orange slushee mix wore her down, but upon hearing the compactor move Chica made a valiant effort to get out of the way. It was slow enough that Charlie could tell the incoming compactor simply wouldn't hit her—

So Puppet decided to take things into her own long-fingered hands.

Chica only had the time to grunt, a weak and betrayed sound as she spat up some of her slushee and was shoved unceremoniously back into the mess of garbage. She managed to grasp Charlie's ankle with her good hand, ready to wretch herself from danger until she was met with the crushing plates. They would silence Chica for good after its hydraulics smeared her into the ground of the compactor, making Charlie relieved that she hadn't pulled her inside.

…Unfortunately, Charlie forgot that all the garbage being compressed had to go somewhere. With Chica's death grip no match for Puppet clawing the floor, both girls were pulled down into the dark recesses of the basement.

“NO!” Michael's scream reverberated through the entire floor, an unholy mixture of human and machine as Foxy's voice box picked up on the ghost's anguish. It echoed off the walls and caused any bot unfortunate enough to be caught in its vicinity to momentarily short-circuit.

All except Freddy, who'd thankfully had the foresight to cover his ears to soften the worst of the noise.

“Michael, wait—!” Freddy exclaimed, reaching for the fox, but it was too late. Michael had already rushed through the doors, hoping beyond hope that Charlie would somehow be perfectly fine and sitting in the compactor, waiting for him with her static grin and laughing at how overreactive he was being.

However... neither she nor Chica was there. The kitchen was deathly silent, save for the faint whirring as the trash compactor reset itself. Michael's eyes snapped to the hatch the girls had disappeared though, then to the button to activate the heavy machinery. All thoughts of self-preservation promptly flew out of his mind as a wild idea took their place.

Freddy threw the doors open just as Michael pushed the button to reactivate the compactor. The bear's eyes widened as he realized what Mike was about to do, but Freddy had to stop and press a hand over his chest compartment as Gregory started banging on the inside to be let out. He didn't want to risk the boy somehow unlocking the hatch from the inside, catching sight of Michael, and deciding to follow after this insane plan.

“Don't...,” Freddy commanded, his voice firm as he stared Michael dead in the eyes. The compactor crushed down on nothing, then began to reset.

Mike flashed Freddy a grin, his eyes full of nothing but determination—for once, not an ounce of fear could be seen. He was going to save Charlie, and that was that.

“Sorry, Freddy—I've got to,” Michael replied, looking to the compactor. The time was right, so he gave the bear a rather pirate-like salute and dashed to the now-open hatch that led down to the basement. “Keep Gregory safe, and don't worry about us; Charlie and I will meet up with you both soon!”

And with that, Michael jumped into the dark abyss, the tip of his mane just barely missing the crush of the hatch doors slamming back into place.

***

The drop would’ve caused the stomachs of mortal men to rise up their throats. For a moment, it didn't even seem as though he was falling. The rancid air of the trash compactor whizzed past him, though in complete darkness that was all you had to know that you were dropping to certain doom...

Then, the trash compactor’s shaft slowly curved, catching and scooping Michael as it rose to meet his fall, cradling him as he slid down and out. Into the main landfill, trash built up over the years came to greet him and break the pirate’s fall. One piece of garbage in particular had made an extra loud banging sound when he landed on it—Chica's currently unresponsive form caught him in her lap, dead eyes rolling with each violent tremor.

Upon first glance, there was no sign of Charlie. She couldn't have been buried at all, so it was safe to assume she hightailed it into the darkness to look for a way out.

Michael quickly scrambled away from the bird, trying to stand too fast on unsteady ground and promptly rolling head over heel-and-peg-leg down the trash pile. He landed on his side with a squelch, in a big lump of what Michael presumed used to be pizza scraps sometime in the last century. It was certainly preferable to a crunch, though—he was lucky nothing major had been damaged. The worst results of his short-lived trip through the metal shaft were a number of dents here and there—and he was sure he’d stink to high heaven once he got out of this place—but that was it.

“Charlie?!” Michael whisper-yelled as he got to his feet for real.

Anyone wandering around down here in the middle of the night would have to be insane… although Mike quickly realized that almost everyone around him was going crazy, so it was completely possible he’d run into an unexpected face. He just hoped that if he did, they were friendly.

There was a door on the far side of the room that Michael headed for, peering into the shadowed corners as he moved and calling out for his lost friend.

Beyond the door was a hallway, floodlights powered by long forgotten gas generators just barely illuminated the way. It was dank inside the cavernous, mostly abandoned trash heap portion of the building. With collapsed scaffolding, the dusty or knocked over shelving on top of already grimy and wet floors didn’t exactly scream kid-friendly.

Down, down the fox traveled, dirt giving way to more building-like rubble as he maneuvered into a clearly unused part of the Pizzaplex. It was so far below the surface not even trash could be found—the remnants of old S.T.A.F.F. bots long-since abandoned into the twisting caverns above.

When Michael was thoroughly lost as all hell and called out to Charlie for what had to be the thirtieth time, he was initially met with more silence. Then, a hysterical and panicked shriek came from what definitely sounded like his best friend, high-pitched and piercing.

Charlie was never one to scare easily, but that wailing expression was unmistakably her.

Michael dashed forward without a second thought, making a beeline for the noise. What he discovered took him completely by surprise: the faintly-lit passage gave way to the half-buried remains of a building. It looked worse for wear, and there was a heavy, dented metal door that was cracked just wide enough for the lanky Puppet to slip through.

The thing that had Charlie paralyzed with fear wasn’t so much a what, but a who. More specifically, it Charlie’s own blank expression staring back at her on a recognizable, very human face.

Only it wasn't her.

Charlie had no idea what this thing was she found inside a large metallic cabinet. A replica? A clone? Even more disturbing, it stood beside three near-identical ones, varying from the age Charlie died to a girl well into her mid-fifties.

Her own mortality had come back to haunt her, and Charlie found herself shielding her face and body by scrunching into the fetal position at the sight of her familiar visage that’d once been lost to time.

In less than thirty seconds from the scream, Michael was at her side. He wrapped the trembling Puppet into a firm hug, cradling her in his arms and rocking slightly as he mumbled comforting reassurance. It was only then that he too noticed the bodies in the cryogenic-esque cabinet. He didn’t recognize them at first, but as his gaze drifted over to one that resembled a startlingly familiar sixteen year old girl, Michael’s metaphorical heart dropped.

“What the fuck…?” was all he could say, frozen to the spot in shocked horror.

That… body was Charlie’s, perfectly preserved right before she’d met her horrible end in a dark, rainy alley. As Michael looked closer, he realized that they were all supposed to be Charlie at different stages in her life. Whoever had created these obviously wanted to see her grow up into the woman she’d never get to be.

Michael was so transfixed on Charlie’s lookalikes that he hadn’t thought to turn around and examine the rest of the room. If he did, he’d find an identical cabinet on the opposite wall parallel to the Charlie-clones. There were four bodies in this cabinet as well—and three were unmistakable to the Afton.

“I-It's me!” Charlie cried out, holding onto Michael's coat as if it were a safety line, the only thing that could save her as she flailed about inside an ocean of torment. “—someone m-made a bunch of t-them...”

Charlie was unsure if she could call really call this herself anymore. It was a face long-dead. Gone were pink rosy cheeks and deep brown eyes; no soft hair to put in braids and play with. Now she was just a Puppet, stuck behind a stoic mask.

It took her quite a long time to recover, having to hold Mike's shoulders as she untucked herself from his chest. Only then was she willing to behold everything about the room. While seeing herself was horrifying enough, seeing Michael standing against the opposing wall, young with his shaggy and untamed hair like he was simply asleep behind glass was surreal.

“Mike...,” Charlie gasped quietly. “What the fuck are these...?”

“Holy shit…” Michael breathed, eyes impossibly wide as he finally turned to see his own replica, preserved at the age just before his guts had been unceremoniously ripped out and he’d rotted to purple. His face was so clearly his father’s, though it still held just enough of a youth long-lost to William Afton for Mike to truly call it his own.

Hesitantly, Michael stepped up to the cabinet and gently pressed his hand against the glass—not in front of his own body, but those of his siblings standing next to him. They were just as he remembered: innocent, cherubic faces that in their “sleeping” forms didn’t betray the pain and hurt they carried deep within.

Lizzie had her strawberry-blonde hair, long past her shoulders with her favorite red bow tied neatly on top.

And Evan… well he really did look like Gregory, minus a few years and still holding the tiniest bit of baby fat in his face.

They were so sweet and innocent, the sight of them caused Michael to let out his own gut-wrenching sob. Before either of them could recover and address the situation as a whole, let alone the unfamiliar body standing next to Michael’s clone, a voice caused him and Charlie to startle violently.

“Oh… hello, you two.”

It was full of nothing but kindness, which matched perfectly with the man it belonged to as his ghostly form phased into the room through a set of saloon doors opposite from where Mike and Charlie entered. The man smiled, and the pair felt their ethereal hearts drop once more.

Henry Emily let a soft, heart-breaking sort of laugh, taking in the sight of kids he thought he’d lost long, long ago. “I missed you both so much…”

***

Previous Chapter ~~ Next Chapter

Looking for more? Check out the Chapter Masterlist on Tumblr!

Or check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!

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noodleswithsoba-blog · 4 months

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Earth 3329's Batman.

So, who wants to know about my Batman? I know, I know real original story ahead but here's the deal...

He's pretty different, based off the Burton movies mixed with the 2022 Batman, kind of a dark Gothic-Cyberpunk vibe. Also this is probably going to be a massive post.

"Every day I put on that suit, keep my stick at my side, and for what? Just to fall over and over. But I always get back up, because of one truth of this world... everyone needs a little hope and if I'm that hope, then it's worth every fall."

Quick Facts.

Name: Grayson Thomas Wayne.

Birthday: 10/27. (A few days before the anniversary of the start of the Long Halloween.)

Special Ability: Nine Lives. Grayson can come back to life nine times, after the ninth he has no more, however whatever killed him before is remembered and sometimes leads to resistances.

It's main weakness is the fact he remembers how he died every time, if it was particularly traumatic it'd have a deeper impact.

Hair Color: Black.

Eye Color: Green.

Relatives.

Bruce Wayne. (Father.)

Selina Kyle. (Mother.)

Richard 'Dick' Grayson. (Adoptive Older Brother.)

Jason Todd. (Adoptive Older Brother.)

Tim Drake. (Figurative Older Brother/Adoptive.)

Barbara Gordon. (Sister-in-Law.)

Damian Al Ghul/Owlman (Half-Brother.)

Relationships.

Page Monroe (Ex-Girlfriend.)

Pamela Isley (Current Girlfriend.)

Backstory.

The son of Bruce and Selina, young Grayson Thomas Wayne (Named after his big brother and paternal grandfather to highlight the expectations on his shoulders.) was born with Cerebral Palsy, which hampered his training quite a bit, but he was still eager to learn because who wouldn't when your dad is BATMAN? Of course when he became Robin he mostly stayed back with the Batmobile and helped investigate crime scenes and rarely got into fights.

Selina taught her son how to steal things on the side, definitely a mom that'd be protective but still try to have her son grow up a bit by taking on a little more at a time.

As a Robin, Bruce's rogues understood that Grayson couldn't really hurt them, but in this case he turned out to be a pretty sweet kid. Arkham was hell but at least he'd try to make things a little more comfortable for the inmates.

But there was one that didn't like the baby bat, one that wanted to play an even deadlier joke against the Bat and Cat...

The Joker. He took out one Robin, he's 1-3 on the Killed Robin board so the cute little prince of Gotham would have to do. So one night, he caused a huge crime spree, drawing away both Selina and Bruce, the fourteen year old Grayson, eager to prove himself had tracked down the Clown Prince of Crime and was just about to send the location to Oracle when he dropped off the grid.

When they found him he was barely alive, dying soon after and being buried... until he dug his way out and went to bed, scaring the daylights out of Alfred and the rest of the family.

Ever since then, the Bat-Family as well as the Wayne family imploded. Grayson could barely look at the Robin suit without flying into a panic attack, losing his desire to help Gotham. Selina thought it'd be best to divorce Bruce and get their child out of Gotham. In no small part blaming her complacency in the fact that their son had difficulties and still made him a Robin.

They moved to Seattle, Washington. Bruce slowly gave up on being Batman, Gotham slowly rotting further.

Becoming the Bat.

The matter of Grayson becoming Batman is because of a downward spiral after losing Pamela and not processing his grief well at all. While the Mission isn't as important, it all starts as an investigation into Jason Woodrue, who he was suspicious of back in Seattle, but now really wants to find out why he did that to Pamela.

It's also a culmination of all the years he's tried to run from his destiny as the next Batman, so this is all just a burden he has to bear now because he's too far in.

As we'll see with my Superman, this is the opposite of his case.

Personality.

Grayson became a very quiet young man. He could ACT like he's happy or not having issues but in a moment whoever he's hiding it from would see into him.

He very much wears his emotions on his sleeve. Even after what happened to him he still makes an effort to not let it defeat him. He's nervous in big social groups.

He's very soft spoken and doesn't like confrontation, owing to the fact that Pamela and Page were much more outspoken than him and he'd often retreat inside his own head.

But before that, he was outgoing and happy. Almost like he loved everything about being in Gotham and caring about it. Dick and Tim used to remember how eager he was to go out and help.

A lot of the Old Guard of rogues like the Penguin, the first Ivy, and Harley Quinn remember him as a sweet kid that really would get eaten up by Gotham.

He'd talk with them and of course none of them would actively try to hurt him. Mostly because Batman was nearby at all times as little Robin asked Mr. Cobblepot or Miss Ivy about how their gadgets and powers worked.

Grayson was never angry at Harley though. She wasn't there when he died and she probably wouldn't have changed Joker's mind at all. She does shove herself into his life as his 'Auntie Harley' and keeps an eye on him...

Which he finds really sweet but embarrassing because Harley tells Selina EVERYTHING about what he's doing and all that.

He absolutely adores cats, especially ones that wobble because they remind him of himself and he has a way with them because his mom does.

He and Bruce also loved listening to old radio serials like the Gray Ghost and The Shadow, so Grayson implements the tactics of The Shadow into his common Batman kit.

He'd be a drama kid if he wasn't railroaded into being Batman.

While being the Caped Crusader... Grayson is the definition of rage and efficiency. He has to be mindful of his limits and his Batsuit is armored in such a way to protect himself.

So imagine him fighting with a stick and metal claws and a whip, he's a blend of Batman and Catwoman with a bit of Nightwing.

He's also very measured and calm when not fighting. Often as to not scare civilians and unnerve villains when he's skulking towards them wanting to beat the tar out of them.

Well, that's his LAST resort. He tends to go for mind games rather than straight fisticuffs but can handle himself if desired. He doesn't have much of a Batgrowl, more like a soft, gentle monotone.

He does have a lot of gadgets in comparison to his father. Some more to make Batmanning more accessible. He does have his own Batmobile and that's pretty much it for vehicles.

His relationship with the GCPD is hostile. He doesn't care about them considering he has access to their records, and again, Babs is out of town but tries to help.

Meanwhile Gotham's falling apart at the seams by the time he returns.

As Grayson Wayne the Playboy... there isn't one. He has Ivy, or Page. He's happily partnered with either one of them and they're basically the talk of the town.

Even though he's highly introverted and his social battery is nonexistent, Pamela tends to chase them off with a glare, while Page would whip them all into an excited crowd as she regales them with glamourous tales to help Grayson get away.

Love Interests.

Back when Grayson was younger, he was a real hit with the uppercrust of Gotham, being the Prince of the City had it's benefits. Of course, there were several people who wanted to take advantage. None moreso than former actress Gloria Monroe and her daughter Page.

Gloria wanted to marry Page off to the Waynes as a backup plan if the acting didn't work out.

Of course, Page initially didn't want to be there, until she saw Grayson go into the manor's library for a little social battery recharge with his wobbly cat, Wells.

Page was a child star, a rising sensation in the entertainment world, being a riches to rags back to riches story in GOTHAM was a big deal.

But with Grayson? She had a friend who never saw the actress and saw the girl underneath. Over the next few months, she would remember every day with him fondly as she slowly began to fracture, clinging to him and wanting him to stay with her.

Until one day he broke up with her. Telling her that he was leaving Gotham. Yet she still held feelings for him, and little did she know for a while after he did too.

She has a very good memory for dates and often reminisces on the days where she was beautiful, the days where she had a wobbly cat and the heart of the Prince of Gotham.

There's a theme of getting back what you lost before with Page. Echoes of Sunset Boulevard, too. Constantly trying to stay relevant, to stay beautiful, to stay as she was before.

She's the first person the newly returned Batman saves. Page and Grayson reunite and she's on the very edge of snapping after losing a job and being rejected from new ones for not being what they wanted.

As a further partner, Page would be a pretty capable partner considering Mean Seasons, and this versions acting skills. Plus she'd appreciate her Gracey's efforts to reform Gotham with her as his spokeswoman.

She still would wear her mask if she gets overwhelmed or scared.

Pamela Isley met Grayson at a college party. Both of them being intense introverts but she was outspoken and very strong-willed. Something the quieter, softer Grayson needed help with regaining. Pamela also was a botany student, very intelligent and successful.

She was also intensely against all forms of authority, and would easily, easily be ACAB and maybe an Anarchist. Ironic considering that her boyfriend used to be a Robin.

Although nowadays Grayson would agree with her on a lot of points. She ended up radicalizing him.

Grayson steadily forgot about Gotham with her. Saw the light and saw getting better as a possibility. For himself, and to be a better man for her and his family.

However, the experiments that she was undergoing to protect the plants she loved and by extension protecting him from the wider world because he was one of the only people who saw her as more of a person other than her family killed her.

But like Grayson, Pamela rose again. Her goal is to tear down the corruption of Gotham, and make a garden in its place, to be the salvation of the planet as well as the idea of being alone with the people she loves completely safe.

Of course Dr. Woodrue's goal was to precisely make an embodiment of the Green to combat humanity's expansion and grasp immortality. And while Dr. Isley finds it cruelly ironic that her daughter went down the same road...

Pamela sees it as a new opportunity. If only she could stop thinking about Grayson and see it through to the end. She's extremely antisocial towards other people and only still loves Grayson because he respects her autonomy and adores her for who she is.

Also during parties she scares people off. As Ivy, she's a very hostile person to whoever or whatever is getting in her way, but she helps Grayson because they have a similar goal. A better Gotham.

The only reason WHY she goes to these galas is to make people wildly uncomfortable. Also picking out more targets for her partner to take down, it's a whole system.

Also she absolutely has various plant monsters throughout Gotham just waiting for a citywide threat even though Grayson harps on it.

#original character #oc x canon #fanfiction #dc universe #pamela isley #page monroe #batman

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thegreygale · 7 months

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Munsters Origin Story rewrite: Working Title: “My Kind of Monster”:

Characters:

Annabel Wolfgang Munster

Nickname:

. Sweetpea

. Bel

Appearance:

. Long black hair with white streaks along either side of her head, usually worn up in a 60s style ponytail

. Bright, gray eyes

. Often, if not only wears a long midnight blue dress with nightshade and other poisonous flowers embroidered on it. Along with an array of bat motif necklaces.

. Is always surrounded by the scent of Lily of the valley

.Slightly green skin

. Stitches

Personality:

. Cheerful

. Sweet

. Innocent

. Dark

. Introspective

. Slightly oblivious/ blasé

. Mischievous

. Mercurial

. Loves her father but thinks he can be a bit much sometimes.

. Has an affinity and love for poisonous flowers (encouraged by Lily)

. Loves science

. Has a strained relationship with The Count at first due to his not approving of Herman but they iron it out as he learns how nice it is to share the lab with someone with thumbs.

Backstory:

Annabel was built in a lab in Transylvania by Dr. Henry Augustus Wolfgang, who she calls her grandfather, after Herman requested a companion to help with his loneliness. She was built from the parts of strong women in history. Her brain is from a famous Transylvanian suffragette; botanist ;and author, her limbs are from women athletes, her heart is from a young humanitarian, and her fingers are from a famous violinist. In 1982 when he was 30 Herman started to get lonely and reached out to Dr. Wolfgang, who had also moved to Transylvania to make sure that Herman wouldn’t cause too much trouble/property damage, and requested that he create him a pet. Unfortunately Herman ended up being allergic to the reanimated dog that he was given so instead Dr. Wolfgang decided to use his revised plans for his next try at perfecting his reanimation experiment. After multiple failed attempts Annabel Wolfgang was officially created on October 13th, 2000. In 2002 after excelling in her studies and quickly learning how to function in the world Annabel began to notice how other people she’d met had two parents instead of one, prompting her to ask her Father why she didn’t have a mom(this earned a panic attack from Herman). After meeting Lily and seeing that she and her father clearly liked each other Annabel decided to help Lily and Herman get together. After encouraging Herman to pursue Lily Annabel proceeds to bond with her prospective Grandfather over their shared love of mad science despite being at odds over the relationship between Herman and Lily. At their wedding in 2005 Herman and Lily announce that they will be moving the family to America. super close with Eddie when he’s finally born, and considers Marilyn the closest thing to an older sister that she could have. Dr. Wolfgang sent her Spot as a birthday present for her first birthday in America, stating that he had figured out how to finally give Herman a hypoallergenic pet and that she deserves something big for her first birthday overseas.

Herman Wolfgang Munster:

Appearance:

Same as the movie.

Personality:

Same as the show, but with a dash of over protective father.

Backstory:

Was made by Dr. Augustus Wolfgang in Germany in 1952. Left Germany in 1967 and moved to Transylvania now with the name Herman after an incident in which he was going through customs and the man behind the desk said “And your name is Herr…MAN ALIVE!” which Herman misheard as “Herman Alive” and corrected him that his last name was in fact Wolfgang not Alive. Of course years later he realized that he had been called “Herr Man Alive” but Herman had such a nice ring to it that he decided to keep it. Briefly joined a band called The Skeletons in the Closet in 2001. Met Lily in 2002 while playing in a small club and felt an instant connection (zinged?). Despite being resistant at first, half because he was shy and half because he was a little worried about leaving Annabel on her own at only two years old despite her maturity, after being encouraged by Annabel Herman and Lily started dating. After dating for three years Herman proposed to Lily in October 2005 and they had a Halloween wedding at Lily and The Count’s castle and Lily handled the seating since most of the family were on her side. Lily had Annabel as one of her bridesmaids along with Marilyn and her sister Phoebe Mundane as her matron of honor. After discussing behind the scenes with Lily and Phoebe Herman made the announcement at the wedding that his family along with Marilyn would be moving to America in hopes of getting a better life. Herman was honestly none too pleased when The Count, now dubbed Grandpa by Annabel, showed up on the day of their departure declaring that he would be joining them. After being called “Munster!” by the man at customs Herman decided to take that as his last name (in actuality he had been called a monster but hey). After having some trouble getting a job Herman Munster was finally able to get employment at a funeral parlor.

Casting:

Jeff Daniel Phillips

Lily Munster

Appearance:

Same as movie

Personality

Same as the show/movie minus the “60s housewife” vibe

Backstory:

Was born Lily Dracula in 1954 in Walachia, Transylvania. Growing up in Castle Dracula with her siblings, Lily grew up surrounded by love. Despite her father’s expectations of her growing up and becoming a mad scientist like him Lily chose to invest her time in music. After a series of failed romances Lily met Herman in a small club and felt an instant connection in 2002. Despite her father’s insistence that their relationship wouldn’t work Lily pursued the relationship, eventually forming a mother-daughter relationship with Annabel. After dating for three years Herman proposed to Lily in October 2005 and they had a Halloween wedding at Lily and The Count’s castle and Lily handled the seating since most of the family were on her side. Lily had Annabel as one of her bridesmaids along with Marilyn and her older sister Phoebe Mundane as her matron of honor. After discussing behind the scenes with Lily and Phoebe, Herman made the announcement at the wedding that his family along with Marilyn would be moving to America in hopes of getting a better life.

Casting:

Sheri Moon Zombie

Count Samuel Dracula, AKA: The Count

Appearance:

Same as the movie

Personality:

. Sarcastic

. Loving father but not Hotel Transylvania level protective

. Disapproving of Herman on the grounds that he’s not smart or classy enough for his daughter

. Judges Annabel at first but forms a tight bond with her while they’re working together in the lab

. Enjoy’s Igor’s company but it’s nice to have someone in the lab who has thumbs

. Very judgmental of Marilyn’s appearance because he worries about what other “monsters” will do to her if they think she’s human but still loves her dearly as before Annabel she was his only grandchild

. The only one in the family who has a little bit of an idea of the fact that they aren’t entirely normal

. Loves Lester but thinks he’s a bum and refuses to indulge him

. Wholeheartedly believes that Ann Rice ruined it for vampires because not all of them can pull off the sexy brooding vibe

Backstory:

Born in Walachia, Transylvania The Count was actually born human, being the son of a Christian father and a Jewish mother. His father was Vlad Dracula and he raised his son to be a devoted Christian, however upon being bitten by a vampire The Count was excommunicated due to the belief that he had lost his soul. The Count was bitten at the age of 22 and it was only due to his mother‘s insistence that he maintained his social standing, being given the title of Count. He met Lily and Phoebe’s mother when he was 25, shocked to have met another Vampire. He quickly became proud of his Vampirism and found himself enjoying the company of other so called monsters, especially other vampires. His wife died after giving birth to their youngest child, a werewolf named Lester(the werewolf V. Vampire genes depend on whether the mother favors the wolf or bat form while pregnant (Lily had just recently gone on a run as wolves with Grandpa and Lester before telling them about being pregnant with Eddie). This loss lead him to turn bitter and slightly vindictive, but when he meets his first grandchild, Marilyn his heart softened a little. Though as Marilyn aged and her very human appearance became more and more obvious he quickly grew concerned for her safety while she was in the company of other monsters and began to “help her look more like a witch should”. His first impression of Herman is that he’s an oaf, this causes him some issues when he learns of Lily’s affection for him. But after spending time with Annabel, or more accurately being held hostage by her in his lab he begins to change his mind about him “after all no oaf could raise such an intelligent young woman”, not that he’d ever admit it. Upon learning that Marilyn will be leaving for America with the future Munsters The Count, fearing for his granddaughter’s safety, elected to join the exodus, with or without Herman’s permission. (Loves What we do in shadows)

Casting:

Daniel Roebuck

Marilyn Mundane Munster:

Appearance:

.Long blonde hair that covers her face

. Bright, Blue eyes

. Wears a black dress with lace sleeves(bridesmaids dress)

. Wears a long, loose fitting black dress

Personality:

. Very self conscious

. Has very low confidence

. Loves her family but wishes that they were a little more accepting of her

. Considers Annabel the little sister she never had

. Wishes she could get a boyfriend

Backstory:

Marilyn Mundane is the daughter of Lily’s older sister Phoebe and a Warlock named Adam Mundane. Having been born a witch Marilyn was expected to look like a witch: warts, green skin, crooked nose, at least stringy black hair but instead she was born with pale skin, blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. This led to her family both isolating her and unintentionally tearing down her self esteem by constantly reminding her that she looks “wrong”. When Marilyn finally meets Annabel, who sees absolutely nothing wrong with her appearance she begins to gain confidence.

Casting:

Meg Donnelly

#the munsters #my kind of monster AU #lily munster #herman munster #grandpa munster #marilyn munster #my oc character #Annabel Munster

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wpdarlingpan · 3 years

Note

Hello! I recently follow you and read your writing of DC. I love it, your writing are really good! For a request, i have this idea...

Platonic yandere Damian wayne with twin sister reader. Maybe, when they were kids, he used to be hated her because she was excelent in everything and have a little care and love from Talia. But she really care for his brother and then Ra al-ghul put them to fight among themselves on a cliff to see who was going to be the future leader and in a bad move, they ended up hanging up in the cliff. Then his sister, not wanting to see his brother die, brings him back to the surface and she ends up falling. Damian didn't know how to react and only receive a slap from his mother .

How about, after Damian goes to live with Bruce and being the new Robin, in one of the fights with Slade and his partner, this partner decides to let himself be trapped so that Slade can escape. In the Batcave, they take off the mask to discover that it is their sister, but someone very different, with another personality, cold, somewhat insane, hostile and very intelligent like that, because she was submerged in the Lazarus pit by Slade, who consider as a parent. Maybe Damian will try to reason with her and apologize for what he did to her. She tells him that it is too late and a smoke bomb explodes to reveal that Slade came for his daughter. She, determined, goes with him, but Damian tries to stop her, but is defeated and tells him that he should never have saved him, to see how Damian tears up and before leaving, he laughs and says "I didn't know that demons cry "

it could be possible? Thanks!!

Ukht: Sister in Arabic

Title: Not Again

Talia was surprised when she gave birth to twins. The boy a few minutes sooner than the girl. She was glad as well as they had two lethal weapons instead of one.

Two children with the blood of Talia Al Ghul and The Batman.

There was a boy she named Damian and she name the girl Y/N. She cared for them a short time after they were born then they were cared for mostly by maids.

As they grew older Damian began to despise his younger sister. She was perfect at everything and he was always second best. He believed she got all the love of their mother and grandfather and left him with none.

They were 10 when they were dropped at the top of the tallest mountain on their land and told to fight to determine the next Leader of the League Of Assassins. They were equals. They fought for hours as they each met each attack with one of equal force same with defense. They were bloody and bruised and Y/N couldn’t bare to hurt her brother anymore. But we she was about to give, she didn’t notice how close to the edge they were. The stood facing each other with their feet barely not over the edge but as Damian attack he knocked himself over the edge because he lost balance as he grew angry and let his emotions over ride his training. But as he fell he grabbed onto his sisters leg and she was pulled down with him. The didn’t fall far as they ended hanging onto a small ledge not to far from the top of the mountain.

Y/N knew what she had to do, but did she have the strength to do it is what she was questioning to herself.

She grabbed the rope she had attached to her belt and used one hand to toss it up and luckily for her it landed around a tall rock while the other end flew back down. The two ends of the rope were next to her and she leaned over and attached the rope to Damians belt as he struggled to hold on. He looked over once he felt the weight on his belt and he looked back at her questioningly.

“I love you Damian.” She said as she grabbed onto one end of the rope, pulling Damian up to the top as she used as much of the weight she could to work as a pulley system. She didn’t want him to bed up falling back down so as soon as she saw he was safely to the top, or as safe as you could be on the top of the mountain. She let go.

Damian screamed as he saw his sister fall beneath the clouds to her death, and he couldn’t do anything. He hated her all of his life for reasons she could not control and he didn’t realize that he never triplet hated her until he realized he never had been without her. She patched him up after fights in the middle of the night so he couldn’t protest, gave his pieces of food, tried to show him love but he wouldn’t accept it, not from her.

He regretted it now.

A assassin flew a helicopter up to the mountain with Talia in the back going to collect Damian. Once she arrived and Damian had fought the pain and walked onto the helicopter, Talia slapped him sending him to the floor with a red hand print on his cheek. He wouldn’t cry, never.

They arrived back at the compound and Talia led him to Ra’s. Of course they talked about everything he did wrong then made him practice for 5 hours until it was perfect. After they sent him away to sleep he had nightmares of his sisters death, and how he hated her all those years.

The next day he was sent to live with his father after the league was attacked and Ra’s was killed. His mother handed him off and later on he decided to stay with his father even after he was to be brought back to the league. It had been a few months since then and Batman and Robin were in the middle of a fight with Slade otherwise known as deathstroke. He was a powerful force to be reckoned with. But even worse now, as he had a sidekick.

A fully masked figure wearing fighting gear and knifes strapped to their thigh, not to mention the very sharp Katana they were wielding, it was a difficult task for them both. But Batman dodged a stroke from the blade and the blade hit a gas pipe, as it was about to explode Slade ran off and Batman was about to go follow before she tackled him to the ground. They fought for a good couple seconds before Robin joined the fight and she was knocked out.

Batman and Robin swung out of the warehouse with Batman holding the masked figure as the pipe exploded leaving behind a burning building.

They put her in handcuffs and put her in the back of the batmobile as they drove home.

“Who do you think she is Batman?”

“I’m not sure.”

They drove home in silence, when did Slade get a partner?

Once in the bat cave they tied her to a chair before Alfred fixed up their cuts. The figure began to slowly wake up and she struggled in the chair before settling while staring at the duo.

“Why were you with Slade? A partner? Sidekick? Apprentice?” She doesn’t respond and continued to glare. The Bat stared right back and couldn’t help but think she was very short, just a inch or two below Damian. Her eyes seemed young as well but didn’t hold any innocence.

“You heard him, who are you?!” Damian demanded by Robin put a hand on his shoulder

They still didn’t respond. But, an idea came to mind. If she gave away her identity it would distract them enough for her to initiate a plan.

“Take off my mask Damian and see.” She spoke ominously while they both looked in shock that she knew his identity. He got over it and quickly ripped off her mask and he was staring into eyes alike to his own.

“Y-Y/N?”

“Miss me? I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Who is she Damian?”

“He never told you about me?” She asked with a fake point then proceeded to smirk.

“Damian?” Batman questioned further but all domain could do was stare.

“I’m his twin sister.” If there was a time the bat had showed that he was shocked it would have been when he found out about Damian, but this one rivaled it.

“W-What?”

He looked over to Damian but Damian turned away.

“Yep, his little sister only by a few minutes.”

Damian and Bruce took off the masks looked at her. Bruce saw the resemblances, between Damian and her, between her and himself.

Damian knelt in front of her and stared into her eyes.

“Forgive me ukht, please forgive me.” Tears gathered in his eyes surprising y/n. Damian crying? That’s not possible.

“Forgive you for what Damian?” Bruce questioned staring at his children.

Y/N had her lips pursed so Damian responded.

“Our mother and grandfather put us against each other in a mountain… it was a fight to the death to determine who would be the heir to the league. We fought for hours before I let me emotions lead and I fell. I grabbed onto y/n and she came down with me. We felt onto a ledge with barely enough room for us to hold on.” Bruce’s eyes are wide and slightly teary. “She grabbed her rope and made a pulley system. I was slipping, she tied it to my belt and jumped, telling me she loved me. Pulling me to the top as she Plummeted down. She fell, or rather let go so I could live.”

“And yet here we are.” She spoke snarky glaring at Damian.

“How are you here then?” Bruce questioned feeling as if he knew the answer. Jason was a standing example.

“You already know Bruce. The Lazarus Pit. Just like how it brought back Robin #2.” She smirked as he glared slightly. Damian glared back at their father as he needed to calm down.

“But did you know something Batman?”

“What is it Y/N?”

“We always have a back up plan.”

With that the wall bursted open and Y/N shook of the robes she had been working away with a small knife. She held up a small tracker she had on her and smirked at their surprise faces. The duo threw on their masks even though their identity’s were already known.

Slade walked in with swords at the ready and he threw one to Y/N.

“Nice to see you.” Slade smirked at her.

“To you as well.”

“Ready to go?” He questioned her ignoring the bat and the bird.

“Ready when you are.” They nodded slightly and

Slade attacked Batman while she got Damian. With the help of a smoke Bomb and their disorientation from the information that she was alive, they were fairly easy to take down. They knocked the duo down to the floor and tied their legs together, just to give them enough time to escape.

“You can’t go! Not again.” Damian yelled with tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t lose her, not again.

“Wow look at that Slade.”

“What is it Y/N?” He played along as they turns towards the whole in the wall.

“I didn’t know Demons could cry. You learn something new everyday.”

Slade tossed another smoke Bomb into the cave as the last dispersed, distracting Damian and Bruce since they had almost gotten out of the rope, and got far away from the duo.

Damian stared at the hole in the wall in a mix of anger and sadness. Bruce in shock still.

Damian sobbed and fell to the floor in tears.

“Not again.”

~*~

Hopefully you liked it! Sorry it wasn’t too Yandere, I wasn’t sure how to make him a Yandere with this. But I how it was still good. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day! ♡

#damain wayne #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Robin #slade wilson #deathstroke #Damian Wayne sister #Bruce Wayne daughter #lazarus

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wife-of-magic-monkeys · 2 years

Text

The bats Lost Pearl.

Chapter one the bats of the sea lost moon and there star.

Bruce has been watching over his little baby that he was told he made with a one night flig he found it when he was looking for his son. He could tell this child was his by the smell and how it had Little bats on the bubble.

it not uncommon for mermaid to not want the baby and do a magic spell to take the baby out and live it somewhere else and leave it there on it own.

But it very dangerous. Cuz The baby can die as well it was Luck he found his daughter and took her to a cove by his cave where his family stays.

As she grows the bubble become clear.

And he and the rest of the family takes trunks wacthing her

Right now Bruce is reading to her

Just reading her a book his mother read to him but he smels something and grows

Bruce : come out now or die

Sleana comes out and he clams down

Sleana Bruce she is two weeks Old she need a mother you know this.

Bruce scoffed I don't date other mers

Slean ( eye brow raise) yes you have sex with them then leave that how daiman was born and this little kitten guppy.

But I want to be her mother I can't have kids but somtin in me want her as my own. Please let me take care of her.

Well let's just say he said yes cuz slean was being so many good points.

So sleana was a marking the reader with her scent in the bubble and slowly her looks become like both Bruce and sleana

Everything was going very happy

Third pov

A year later the reader bubble pops and a wail was hard

Sealna who has not moved from the spot like mothes who do put there kids in bubble to Keep them safe then there body's. Quickly pick her up and rocks her and feeds her and quickly gos to the surface. And lay her by a rock so the reader can get some sun and dry off a lot of the no longer need film over her body.

Bruce comes back from hunting with his son's and father figure but didn't see sleana but see no bubble. Quickly panicked but when daiman bolt to the surface he she slana beautiful tail. Slowly moving while staying in place he tail the boys to go to the cave and get the air pocket ready.

And when he get up there he see a cute sight

Bruce :hello my little ( y/n) Pearl Star wayen

You look at him and make graby hands and he nuzz you happy purring.

Slean slowly takes you away and put in Damian arms and he since you very careful

Like your made of glass very happy to be a big brother.

All the family come up to do the same bounding

And so far everything is wonderful and happy and at peace.

But sadly life can be cruel

When Bruce and alferd and the boys where called to help the other pods of heroes

You and your mother where Left alone.

You can't swim very well and your still learning.

Slean that it your doing good my little kitten guppy. But right when she garba you a net is Thow right at you and both you and your mom where trying to get out.

That when alferd came back but what he saw made him bolt into action.

With Jason by his side while the others go get help.

But try as the might the get shot and alferd take the hit for his grandson.

Who quickly look torn and quickly takes his grandfather to safety and crying when he to gets hurt.

Lucky the other pod speed swimmer got there and got them to safety.

But sadly the price was to great and lost there moon and star. But the won't stop until they find them.

Tbc

#yandere platonic batfamily x reader #yandere x reader #mermaid au #yandre batfamily

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the-witches-you-couldnt-burn · 3 years

Text

It started with a whisper

I originally wrote ‘Like I did with you’ as a one-shot but people wanted a sequel. This turned out to be waaaaay longer than expected (4.7k word count). Inspired by Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. I hope you lot enjoy!

Ao3

(Also this is Mari’s new outfit, all credits go to the original artist)

————

Two teens stood upon the balcony of a large banquet hall, exposed to the midsummer night air. The sky was a lilac blanket that hung over the Parisian buildings, speckled with glowing stars. The moon, with it’s crescent smile, beamed down of the young couple.

Hey, baby, won't you look my way?

Marinette’s eyes were closed as she rested her head upon his shoulder, relaxing after the night’s rapid escalation. Tonight she had arrived at the ball with the intent to be there for her friends, but somehow she found herself within the arms of Gotham’s (and probably Paris’) Ice Prince. She had overheard his nickname from the Gotham students, one of which being Jon, who was in the middle of mocking the young Wayne. She had never considered that nickname as suitable; sure he was temperamental & had a tendency to snap, but icey to the core? No.

I can be your new addiction

Damian was calm. For the first time in his life he felt like he could take a breath. His exhale was carried off by a small gust of wind, the bush over hanging the stone railing rustled. With his inhale, the scent of Marinette’s perfume became present once more. Mixed with the crisp night’s air, her usual scent of pastries was mixed with what could only be described as ambrosia. His phone vibrated within his pocket, it was never on volume due to the potential risk it caused during his heroic activities.

“Shit.” Notifications covered his screen, multiple tweets, Instagrams and Tiktoks in which he had been tagged in. But the alert came from his family’s private messaging chat. The whole thread was a shit storm, Grayson and Todd’s messages were completely capitalised (he learnt years ago this meant ‘to yell’ in writing form) and both had multiple ‘keyboard spasms’. Drake, like the thorough detective he is, had combed through the images and videos, investigating their validity. His honorary sisters had replied with ‘awwwww’(s) and ‘Omg we MUST meet this girl! I need to know how she tamed the demon!’. He could practically hear Brown’s shrill voice from across the ocean.

Hey, baby, what you gotta say?

No reply from his father or Alfred. The two of them were the only semblance of ‘normal’ paternal figures he had within his life, after the sham of a relationship he had previously held with his grandfather. Their silence unnerved him.

Marinette had noticed his attention had shifted to his phone, her own mobile was buzzing away within her baby pink purse. Messages, notifications of account tagging and comments galore. A sigh left her lips when she saw her parents seemed to be none the wiser. Good, she didn’t need to deal with future adoration for ‘The boy who swept our daughter off of her feet’ (or something along those lines).

Her cheeks regained some of the warmth they held before as she thought of her parent’s reaction. Scrolling through her Twitter she saw her friends had posted multiple images of the night’s events, majority being her shared dance.

Chloé Bourgeois @TheBestBourgeois

what kind of Disney shit is this? (Insert video of two teens dancing around an mostly empty dance floor.)

Alix Kubdel @Sk8trGirl

Replying to @TheBestBourgeois

I KNOW RIGHT?! THEY WERE FUCKING FLOATING!!!

All you're giving me is fiction

She was thankful that they hadn’t tagged her but she hadn’t been spared by others in attendance. Her post thread had blown up, thousands had commented and even more had viewed the evidence. There was no way she would come out of this unscathed.

“Has anyone been on Twitter today?” The blonde of the family asked as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes focused on her scrolling screen, brows furrowed in confusion. “Actually has anyone seen what’s happening on any of our socials?”

It was early in the afternoon and the family had recently returned home after a straining stakeout. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and the Batfam had to deal with his minions. Dick’s arm was in a sling (sprained from a grapple gone wrong), Jason was icing his hand, Alfred was stitching Bruce’s chest wounds while Tim and the girls escaped without severe injuries. All were still recuperating and finally able to recharge.

Alfred always enforced a strict ‘no devices at the dinner table’ rule; no matter how urgent it was, it could wait until after sustenance was consumed. Tim strongly opposed this, but there was no arguing with Agent A. This all surmises that probably no one had seen the crap storm on social media.

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

Bruce sighed, bringing his free arm up to rub his eyes. Tilting his head back to look at Steph, “Who was it this time?” Barbara quickly took out her phone to see what Stephanie was talking about, all the while glancing accusingly at Dick and Jason. Both of whom held up their arms (or in Dick’s case arm), declaring their innocence.

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

“Jason! Language!” Dick shot a glare at Jason and was met with one in return. “It wasn’t me either.”

“Then who-“ Bruce started before being cut off by his most rambunctious daughter.

I found out that everybody talks

Stephanie with a squeal, exclaimed that it was Damian. Visions of what the Wayne brat could have done flashed through the heads of everyone in the room. He had been sent overseas before the quarantines and lockdowns hit. During Damian’s first month in France he had been forced into online schooling and then finally when he got to go to in-person classes he hated it. Described the class as a kindergarten with petty and vindictive toddlers.

Had he broken someone’s arm? Was that person of such importance that it had spread over multiple social media platforms? France’s government had announced on June 15th, that teens were now being inoculated so him having COVID-19 was doubtful. Had he insulted the wrong person? Had he taken over the government? He certainly had the potential.

Everybody talks, everybody talks

What they saw stunned them, even Steph as she watched it for the 7th time. Damian Wayne was dancing. But not only that, he was dancing with a girl.

It started with a whisper

“What is this shit?”

No one verbally objected to Jason’s outburst but he was sent a harsh glare from Alfred, Dick and Bruce. Their focus soon returned to the images and videos before them. Babs’ and Steph’s phones were returned to them as the others ran to grab their own devices. They all met back at the table, comparing the posts and comparing their notes.

I can hear the chitchat

“There’s no way this can be real.”

“Jesus Tim,” Barbara rolls her eyes, “have you seen the amount of posts there are? You’d be an idiot to think otherwise.”

Take me to your love shack

“I’m with Tim, how do we know this isn’t some skit. I mean, Demon Spawn almost looks normal. That’s a matter of concern.” He almost dry heaved when he agreed with Tim. Damian couldn’t be capable of naturally exuding that amount of humanity unless there was something in it for him.

Mamas always gotta backtrack

“I was just saying Babs, that we should check the credibility of these images. For all we know they could be gorilla glued together and trying to get unstuck.” Tim cringed at his own reasoning, he really needed to either sleep (probably not going to happen anytime soon) or find his favourite coffee brand (which had been one of the first to vanish after the covid hoarders appeared).

When everybody talks back

Dick was too busy freaking out and spam messaging the youngest Wayne, to defend Damian’s humanity. The family saw this and followed suit, wanting to get information from the source.

Chat name: Alfred supremacy

BigBird: AHHHHHH DAMIAN!

BigBird: YOU LOOK SO CUTE!!!

BigBird: HAIFJDNDNFI

LittleWing: WTF HAPPENED DEMON SPAWN YOU LOOK ALMOST HUMAN

Babs: who knew the city of love would influence the brat

Blondie: they are so cuteeeeeee!

Blondie: We HAVE to meet her!

Silent-but-deadly: agreed.

Timbo: YO DEMON

Timbo: Apparently the videos are legit

Timbo: are you being blackmailed?

And it just devolved into more chaos from there, fueled by the fact that they saw Damian’s ‘Blood Son’ account appear online before vanishing once more. Dick shrieked, “I FOUND HER ACCOUNT!”

The family gathered around the eldest son, peering over his shoulder to view his iPhone 12max screen. They saw a young girl’s Instagram account. It was locked but they could see her profile pic, the girl had black hair and looked to be if Asian decent. They compared it to the videos but it was hard to see due to the hall’s lighting and the minimised facial features of the pfp. Alfred suggested that they search up her username and see who has tagged her, some might have other photos of her.

After research for awhile, the family began to get frustrated with lack of results.

Hey honey you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription

“Come on!” Jason complained, “What kind of teenage girl doesn’t post her life online?” He ignored the girls glares and went back to researching. How had the account by the name of ‘mariiiiinette’ to managed to prevent the entire Wayne clan from accessing it? Damn Instagram privacy settings. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “We are fucking stupid. Why don’t we just use the Bat-computer? It would be so much fucking easier.”

“It shouldn’t be used for civilian issues-“

Too much could be an overdose

“The girl could be a meta for all we know! We aren’t safe until we know who she is.” Jason points a finger at Tim, his paranoia flared up and even though he would never admit it, Jason would do anything to protect each member of his family (although Bruce is still debatable).

All this trash talk make me itching

Barbara and Tim took their usual positions as Oracle and Red Robin (who had been banned from patrol due to lack of sleep). The rest of the Batfam stood behind them either with arms crossed or still failing at researching.

Oh my my shit

“The account is owned by a girl called Marinette Dupian-Cheng. She is French-Chinese and her parents own a popular bakery. Also if it wasn’t already obvious, she goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, aka Damian’s French school.” Tim begun informing his nosy family, “But this account has been inactive for the past 6 months, which is strange due to her frequent posting schedule before hand. It seems she probably has a second account and this is her old one.”

Everybody talks, everybody talks

“Not only that,” Barbara interrupted. “There are unopened messages from other accounts that accuse her of being a bully. There is a whole Facebook page about this girl and how she has been hurting her old friends, but neither side seems reliable. The so called victims seem to be twisting the truth but there is barely any information about Marinette so we can’t disprove it either.”

“Read out some of the messages.” Bruce took a cup of coffee from Alfred and sipped it.

The main screen of the bat computer displayed a Facebook group with the banner picture being a photo of Marinette. “They are mostly complaints expected of teen girls when there is a girl they don’t like; ‘Marinette is such a know-it-all’, ‘She is constantly insulting Lila’s intelligence’. They go on to talk about how Marinette was briefly expelled from the Collège before being reinstated by the principle for a reason unknown to them.”

Everybody talks too much

“Her school reports up until this year were good. The newest one states, ‘While Marinette is a wonderful and bright student, I encourage her to settle her disagreements outside of class. This seems to only be a recent occurrence and I implore her to go to the guidance council if she is in need of help.’” A beat of silence echoes through the cave, Tim sighed. “Jason’s meta theory could be correct. She could have just recently started exhibiting her abilities and using them to get what she wants.”

“Bruce what do you want to do?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

She opened her eyes to the blaring morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her lashes still painted with mascara that refused to leave. She felt a pang of sorrow when she was removing her makeup and dress last night, she never wanted the night to end. She shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, covering her mouth when she yawned. She greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen to get breakfast.

She glanced at her phone and there was the chaos that was started hours ago and it was still occurring. It was the weekend, she wouldn’t need to deal with her classmates until Monday. But she would still have to survive her parent’s interrogation. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother smirking at her.

Everybody talks

“Nadja told me some interesting news about last night.” Marinette held her breath, glaring at the toaster, willing it to hurry up so she could escape. “Well,” Sabine patted her shoulder before rubbing Mari’s back. “I know you didn’t want to go but I hope you had fun.”

With that she exited the kitchen, probably going to help her father in the bakery. The ravenette stared after her, eye widened in shock, jumping when the toaster went off. Buttering her toast she went over the conversation, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had expected a ‘When do I get to meet the oh so famous prince?’ or ‘Should I be expecting a new guest sometime in the near future?’ or at least a ‘Who was that young man, Bǎozàng (宝藏 it means treasure)?’ But she said nothing.

A small smile was plastered upon her face as she changed and went down to help her parents in the bakery. Her father didn’t say anything either, he gave her a knowing smile before continuing to kneed the dough. She sat at the the store front as the cashier whilst her parents were busy making ‘Paris’s Finest Pastries’.

Her musings slowly faded as she was brought back to reality by badly hushed whispers. Two young preteens were by the bread roll casing near the door. She had seen them come in before with their parents, the girls went to the prestigious international school over in the 16th arrondissement. The one with purple hair kept whispering to the brunette, both ‘subtly’ glancing towards her. Using her enhanced hearing she listened in on their conversation.

“That’s her, I swear that’s her in the video.”

The blonde’s face soured likes she sucked on a lemon. “No, it wasn’t good lighting there is no way he would dance with someone like her.”

Everybody talks

Marinette had tough skin but their words had an impact, only a small one due to her defence mechanism of repressing emotions. She stopped listening and went back to drawing in her sketchpad, she was in desperate need of a new school outfit.

The two girls eventually came up to the counter, goods in hand. Marinette rung up and bagged their items (paper because save the turtles sksksk) in a tired daze. A phone was shoved into her face, her eyes barely adjusted to view the screen before the blonde spoke.

“Is this your instagram?” She asked in a tone so snobbish that it should be illegal from a person her age. Marinette finally was able to view the screen that was barely an inch from her face. Her old Instagram ‘mariiiiinette’ was displayed on screen, she hesitantly nodded, gaze flicking back to the two in front of her.

The blonde’s nose scrunched up and the purple goth girl squealed in delight. They soon after left the store, their conversation had devolved into ‘See! I told you’ and ‘Yeah, yeah. You were right.’

Walking to school on Monday, she had finally come down from cloud nine. She still rode the tail end of her high as she rushed along her path to her campus, she wasn’t going to be late but she sure wasn’t going to be early. She had spent the better part of the weekend designing and sewing a brand new outfit. Her new look was composed of a black cropped singlet (L'amour gagne hemmed into it and it’s straps), paired matching peach plaid cropped overshirt and a-line miniskirt. Her hair was down, ballet flats were worn and her makeup was the usual with the added edition of a rose gold eyeshadow.

Even though her face was covered in a black and gold mask, she looked hot.

She reached the campus and the whispers started again, people were still buzzing from Friday night. Her classmates, the majority of her grade and the younger years seemed to gossiping before class about the formal’s events. She couldn’t spot any of her friends or the two Gotham transfers, so she was stuck listening the the chitchat. Why couldn’t she have been late like usual?

Damian had a fowl disposition and it showed in multiple icey glares (and that was before he even reached the collège). His family had made their appearance known in Paris at 1am Sunday morning. He could have used his dorm to escape but his family didn’t have the word ‘privacy’ within their vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to pay for a lock replacement due to his brothers’ (most likely Todd with Drake & Grayson laughing at him) lock picking habit.

The Ice Prince was back with full force. He had just been... influenced by all the other couples. Yes he did respect Dupain-Cheng and he appreciated her company & pleasant conversations. He would struggle to hide a small smile at the memory of the dance, even if he denied himself the happiness of normality, he felt content when reminiscing.

“Ooo the Ice Prince is here, did he have a fight with his princess or something?” The voice seemed to mock him.

“The Disney Magic is gone. The demon is back.”

Everybody talks

At the second jeer he shot a glare at the perpetrator. Jon held his hands up in an ‘I surrender manner’, laughing as he joined Damian at his side. The two entered the school’s large foyer and looked to see if any of the classes were open yet. Sadly they weren’t, before he was wrong and the his class was plain torture but this was truely hell.

He saw Dupain-Cheng sitting alone on the stairs, drawing within her sketchpad. He wondered how a girl like her, who always seemed to be involved in other’s lives (for the better) was ignoring all of the comments about her. She felt his focus centre on her, eyes flicking up to meet his, she provided him with a small wave before continuing to draw.

Jon nudged him with an elbow to his ribs and dragged him off to the side, into the boy’s locker rooms. Jon scowled at the door, “It’s a mad house out there. You’ve heard what some people are saying right?”

“Why would I care about these imbeciles?”

Jon jabbed Damian in the chest, causing the demon to stumble. Green eyes darted from blue eyes to the tan finger. “You care when lies hurt people you care about.”

The day began to rapidly decline once the two dance partners took their seats, next to each other. They had both been placed up the back of the class and them sitting together hadn’t been a problem until now apparently. She wasn’t even safe when the teacher started their lecture, whispers and glances were cast towards them. Once the two got to biology it was better, Ms Mendeleiev was a strict teacher and was able to control the class.

Everybody talks

But the recess came. When the bell rang she slowly started packing up her equipment, Alix and Max (who she shared biology with) waited for her; she watched as the Ice Prince left through the door. She knew she didn’t need to be concerned about her friends joining in with the gossiping, if anything they would dispel people and tell them to ‘Mind their own fucking business’ because this whole situations is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

She did receive some slight teasing from Alix about being a Disney princess, but Marinette quipped back about the skater’s fairytale story being ‘Pinknette, the Geek and the Beast’. The three met up with the other two of their group, they had just come from geography. Kim was complaining that Argentina was a state in America.

“That’s Arkansas you idiot!” Chloe shrieked, lightly hitting his arm with her white handbag. Max held his head in his hand as he approached, how had his tutoring sessions failed so badly?

Chloe turned to Marinette, a smile forming from her glare. The blonde examined the designer’s clothing, nodding. “You look like you are about to have a hot girl summer.”

Marinette’s face burned, the tips of her ears coated in red. Alix chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

Everybody talks

“Look at her, she is so desperate for his attention that she probably copied those designs.”

“Why do you think he danced with her anyways? Maybe she has something on him? I mean, she forces him to sit next to her in class, who knows what else she has done.”

What. The. Fuck.

Chloe glowered towards Lila’s posy. “We have a fucking seating plan, those cretins-“ She made a motion to storm over but was caught by the ravenette, looking back to Mari, her rage decreased from a boil to a simmer.

“No Chlo. It’s fine, it’s not worth it.”

Everybody talks... back

The group walked out to the school’s front steps, it was a mad house... a mad courtyard? Students sitting on the stairs, on the grass and standing around mingling, all of them now were staring at her. She held her backpack close to her chest (she had swapped her signature coin-bag purse for the pastel pink bag), pretending its a shield. Her friends circled around her becoming an obstacle to prevent their stares. If people were afraid of a scowling Kim then they don’t know the scorn of Chloe or Alix’s bite. And Max, sweet quiet Max.... you better hope he doesn’t have blackmail on you (he probably does), he can dismantle your life with a single anonymous post.

Rushed footsteps approached them. The group was broken apart by a rude Wayne boy, he swept Mari away from the school and the gossip crowds within. Her four friends shouted at him and he kept walking, shooting a glare at them in response. He kept pushing Marinette forward with a hand placed on the small of her back, her backpack was now swung over his other shoulder.

They ended up in her favourite alcove. She had brought him here with the other Gotham transfers for a native’s tour of Paris. It had always been her safe place to be creative.

It started with a whisper (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“My apologises for our rushed departure but you seemed to want to get out of their anyhow.” His gruff tone danced through the silence, his head still peaking around the corner; watching for any unwelcome guests.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice almost being carried off by the gentle wind. A genuine smile illustrated upon her face.

“We weren’t able to converse after the events of the other night. I would like to formally apologise once more for my actions causing this adverse reaction. If I had kn-“

“You don’t need to apologise!” She squeaked, hiding her eyes behind her fisted hand. Her shoulders curled inwards as she tried to make herself seem as small as possible, a side effect of her common use of her secondary miraculous form: Multimouse.

“I chose to dance with you, you don’t need to apologise for my own actions.” He stared at her with confusion. He had taken the blame so she wouldn’t need to do so herself; but she had taken it anyways. He had given her an out. Why does she always take the blame, even for things out of her control?

“But if I hadn’t danced with you then you wouldn’t have been the focus of the entire school.”

Marinette stepped forward, her eyes hardened and blazing. “Damian Friday night I went there out of obligation to my friends, I didn’t want to be there. But dancing with you? That was the highlight of my week, probably my month too. I enjoyed our time together.” Her face softened, lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. “I don’t regret anything about that night, but do you?”

He was bad at comfort. Everyone in his family avoided him when they were in need, he plainly didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t visibly upset but he sensed that she is disappointed that he apparently didn’t share the same opinion of the night. The only thing he regretted about that night was letting Jon call him a coward, but then again if he didn’t he never would have danced with Dupa- Marinette.

He picked up her clenched hand, the tension in her body alleviated at his embrace. He remembered how Grayson would apologise to Kor’i or how his father interacted with Ms Kyle. He brought their hands up and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

And that was when I kissed her (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“I do not regret anything either—“ he cleared his throat, “In fact, I’d appreciate if we would be able to interact more, especially outside of that cesspit.”

Was he...?

It didn’t matter.

She smiled the same dazzling smile she gave him at the dance. She nodded while laughing, “I’d love that.”

Everybody talks

The two stay talking, hidden within their secret alcove for the rest of the day. She texted her parents to say she was with a friend and would be back later that night. Damian didn’t bother texting his family, Marinette knew he had to be back soon due to his dorm’s curfew.

The sun was setting at they walked back together, he did the gentlemanly thing and dropped her off at her bakery door. She could see her mother behind the register inconspicuously looking over at the two of them. Damian’s lips quirked upwards, she was satisfied with his kinda-smile.

He walked back, hands in pockets and a neutral expression upon his face instead of a scowl. He reached his door and took his keys, he found that it was already open. Damn.

His family was splayed out within his two roomed dorm. Todd and Drake were fighting over a place to sit on his bed, whilst his father sat at his desk, watching the commotion. The three of them turned to him as he enter the room, they were the only family members able to attend on short notice; Cain had a ballet audition, Gordon & Brown had concert tickets for tomorrow, Grayson had to take care of Mar’i while Kor’i was on Tamaran and Alfred stayed to ensure no one died during their night time activities.

“We need to talk Damian.” His father stood, leaning onto the desk chair. “The school called and said you had an unexcused absence for half the day. Where were you Damian?”

Damian stared into his father’s eyes. He was fifteen, almost an adult, but was treated like he was ten again.

“I was with a friend.”

“Probably the girl from the dance. Marinette, right?” Todd mocked him. Damian snapped his head in the direction of his bed, glaring at both his brothers.

“That’s what I want to talk about with you Damian. Now I don’t know her personally but from what we’ve discovered through our investigation we have some concerns. What’s happened Damian?”

The youngest Wayne’s glare shifted off of his brothers to the floor, and then finally to his father; his family sitting in wait for his answer. Straightening his posture, his shoulders clicked as he rolled then back. His statement’s tone was sure and steady, “Everybody talks father.”

Everybody talks... back

#maribat #marinette x damian #mlb x dc #batfam salt #batfam is concerned #Daminette #the aftermath of ‘Like I did with you’#everybody talks by neon trees #max kante has blackmail and will use it #Alix will bite if provoked #dc x mlb #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a meta?#supportive Dupain-Cheng parents ❤️

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dainty-fingertips · 3 years

Text

a forever thing. ||kars x fem! reader

wrote this one a few weeks ago bc a friend said i should write something with kars,, ended up being too long and i don’t think she ever finished reading it;; also, spoilers for if you haven’t finished battle tendency !!

word count: 2233

summary: training alongside caesar and joseph, you end up being kidnapped by the remaining two pillar men after the death of esidisi. a closet bookworm, you end up spending most of your time cooped up in the library of the rundown hotel, though most of your time is spent thinking of the leader himself. after kars drops some undeniable hints, you decide to test the waters.

trigger warnings: none :)

Being taken for a sort of ransom by aztec gods wasn’t exactly on the agenda today.

After Joseph had killed Esidisi, the remaining two were -- as expected -- on edge. Wamuu, the youngest, and Kars, the eldest. You could grasp a fleeting understanding on why they chose you specifically, but nothing enough to make complete sense in your brain. It could have been Caesar, it could have been Lisa Lisa, but no. As of now, they were treating you quite well, actually. You figured Wamuu was the only reason you weren’t bound by rope and eating out of a dog bowl right now. Instead, you were perched upon a plush reading chair in a rundown library, clad in a comfortable robe (thanks to Wamuu, you weren’t stuck in your sweaty outfit from before). You had planned on touring to Switzerland one day after the war, but being trapped inside a rundown hotel with no real access to vitamin D was really taxing your health (mentally and physically) and never intended to be something you spent your time doing while here.

In your rough-skinned hands, you held a worn copy of In Search of Lost Time. Your reading comprehension had improved over the past few weeks, at least. A rough knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. “I’m here.” You said calmly, hoping it was the younger Pillar Man. Of course your desires were not met. Kars stepped into the library, his headscarf absorbing some of the light from the candle lit on the table next to you. He eyed you in what appeared to be mild distaste. “Why are you awake?” You looked up from the book with an odd expression. “What do you mean?” You asked him. The god huffed softly, motioning to the boards on the windows. “The sun has gone down. Are you not tired?” You pulled your gaze over to the covered windows. “...Oh.”

You had failed to notice the absence of flittering rays much earlier. “Wait, what time is it?” You mumbled to yourself. You looked at the grandfather clock on the wall to your right and your expression dropped. “It’s 1 am.” he mumbled, crossing his arms. You pursed your lips and quietly closed the book. You uncrossed your legs and set it back on the shelf. Kars watched you slowly make your way back and forth. “What about you?” You asked, wrapping your fingers around the candle tray. He stared at you. Were you asking why he was up? “What do you mean?” He asked with a sigh. “You’re still up, but you aren’t tired.” You stated while approaching him. He didn’t move. “I’ve told you this. Neither me nor Wamuu need sleep, human. Es-” He stopped himself mid sentence and his cold expression seemed to falter for only a moment. You had learned, in your three weeks here, that the pillar men deemed it inappropriate to show emotion to anyone other than family members or mates.

Kars had never slipped up around you before.

The gears in your brain began turning. Kars wouldn’t show something like that to Wammu even, at least that’s what you’d been told. Why, even if for a split second, would he let you see that? Did he see you as someone close? The mere idea was laughable. Kars’ cold exterior soon returned, though. Simply brushing aside the sight, you continued to listen to him. “Esidisi didn’t need sleep, either.” He continued, his voice almost strained. Was Kars trying to hide his pain? You looked at him with soft eyes. Kars seemed to get minorly flustered and removed his gaze from you.

You sighed gently and gazed cautiously into his blooming red eyes, the simple sight of them making your stomach twirl a bit. He made you feel floaty when he looked at you. Your cheeks flushed and you looked away. You saw in your hazy peripheral that he had furrowed an eyebrow. “What?” He asked hesitantly, looking back at you. “Hm?” You couldn’t look back at him. “I was just wondering about something, that’s all.” You begged that the bluff worked on him, but you knew that Kars was smart. He didn’t respond for a few seconds, his eyes flickering across your face and body, looking for a hint of something in your body language.

He sighed and motioned for you to follow him. You stood there and glanced at him curiously, his back turned and footsteps echoing. He turned his head to look at you. “I’m taking you to your chambers. Come.” He said with a bored expression. “O-Oh, right.” You whispered. You jogged up to him, but slowed your pace once you were next to him. “What was it?” He asked. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him without moving your head. “What?” He sighed through his nose. “You said you were wondering about something.” Your mouth opened to the shape of an O. “Right. I was just curious, uh, Kars. Do you think you could sleep if you tried?” You queered hesitantly, avoiding your original thought of Kars’ sadness. You looked back ahead of you. Kars gazed to his right, thinking. “An odd question, human. Why do you ask?” You shrugged slightly. “I dunno. Curiosity, I guess.” Kars aired out a small ‘hm.’ and inhaled sharply.

“Curiosity is a dangerous fault in humans. No matter how long I sleep, that will forever remain a constant.” You cocked your head to the side a bit, working up the courage to turn to him as you both walked. “What do you mean?” He looked down at you, a strand of his hair tufting out slightly. “It’s what got that damned Joestar wrapped into this mess. If not for him, we wouldn’t need to deal with this. Our mission would be far less… complicated.” You nodded your head. “And that’s been a forever-thing?” He squinted his eyes. “A what?”

“Well, that’s what my dad used to call it.” You said with a gentle chuckle. “Y’know, a forever-thing. Something that’s been around for forever. Literally and figuratively.”

“A forever-thing?” He pressed.

“Mhm.”

“Humans and their idiotic names for simple terms.” he spat.

“Oh really?”

He scoffed. “Yes.”

“Then what would you call it?” You joked, putting a playfully heavy emphasis on your words. Kars groaned, but deep inside his old bones, he felt something. He could admire beauty when he saw it, especially for a human, but this was getting out of hand. You were completely oblivious to the fact that Kars had taken an especial liking to you, which he was grateful for. His cold demeanor felt almost immoral around you. You were similar to that Joestar boy, but you were somehow more tangible. He could… stand you, sure, but he didn’t know why. He had been surrounded by nothing but cold glares and serious attitudes his whole life, and he magnified it in the way he lived. It’s what earned him the highest rank in what now remained of the tribes, being merely him and Wamuu.

Though, having you around was a strangely acceptable change of tone. He began finding himself seeking out your attention, like 10 minutes ago. You weren’t in your bed, so he came looking for you where you normally sat; the library. You were propped in that chair, now claimed as yours, with your knees to your chest and a book in your hands. You seemed almost magnetizing, you seemed almost… well, he wasn’t sure. He’d never felt this way. Why did you grab his attention? You held him in your fingers like putty, rubbing him in all the right ways. Maybe, because of you, his opinion on the human species wouldn’t be so dire. Maybe, in your toothy grins, your glittering eyes, and your gentle hands, you would change his mind.

Only then, did he realize you had taken his hand in yours.

He quickly pulled it away. “Don’t touch me.” He spat, eyeing you. You chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry, force of habit. Whenever my dad was deep in thought, I’d grab his hand to pull him back to Earth.” Kars scoffed, rubbing his hand as though trying to get the feeling of your rough hands off of him. They were hard and calloused from training, he presumed, though it added to his simple adoration. He had never met a woman like this. His eyes lingered back to your hands for a moment before looking back ahead. “Well, I’m not your father.” You simply smiled ahead and didn’t respond.

Kars let his hands fall to his sides and the two of you make it up the set of stairs to your room. The door sat closed, and you looked at Kars. “Would you mind, Kars, if I told you something?” You questioned casually, entering your room and looking at him from the inside. He nodded once and silently asked you to continue. Your face grew warm and you looked to the side, unable to look at him for a moment. “You…” You began, unsure how to tell him. He raised an eyebrow. “I what?” He said. You knew he was an impatient man when it came to things like this; you had heard it from Wamuu whenever he’d bring you food. “Spit it out.” You sighed and looked at him, your gaze wavering and nervous. “You aren’t half bad, Kars.” You said with an awkward tone of voice. You knew you were treading on thin ice, but you didn’t know when you’d actually be able to tell him alone.

Kars’ stance was unmoved. The meaning behind your words didn’t fully strike him until after the two of you silently stared at each other for 20 seconds. His face, twisted in mild confusion, soon loosened up. Realization clubbed him like a wooden baseball bat behind his knees. His maroon eyes darted across your face and his lips parted slightly. “What -- What are you saying?” He said quietly. He was sure his brain was playing tricks, but your face, it seemed so fearfully genuine. Sweat accumulated on the back of his neck in his headscarf. Kars was a god; the most powerful pillar man. He was above this. Why did… Why did it feel wrong to act that way around you? Why did he feel almost guilty when he acted superior?

You stood motionless. “I mean, y’know. I enjoy… your… your company.” You stumbled over her words. Were you being intimate with him? He’d never seen this side of you. You noticed Kars slipping up on his own standards again, as well. His surprised emotions were clear as day, etched cleanly into his chiseled features. His fangs poked out onto his lower lip, a simple protrusion which you had wished you didn't find cute. You genuinely thought that Kars was attractive.

Then again, who wouldn’t? He stood tall, around 6’8”. He towered over most all he came in contact with, but that was simply second nature to you now. You were used to craning your neck to get a better look at those blood-red eyes that almost seemed to despise you. A dark loft of his hair would make its cameo every now and again. He’d always get flustered whenever you’d mention it, telling you that he didn’t need the approval of a human. He’d then, a minute or so later, slyly tuck it back in. It’s not that he didn’t know, of course; it’s just that he only cared enough about it if you took the time to tell him.

Wamuu had noticed his growing infatuation with you and the thought brought him a smile. After sitting down with Kars and listening to him do nothing but wax poetic about you earlier tonight, he told him to go find you. Maybe take a walk with you, if he felt like it. Kars kindly took up the offer; it seemed you had humbled him in that department, too. Normally he wouldn’t bother taking anyone’s advice, but here he was. Pulling him from the crevasse of his rushing brain was your hand, humbly wrapping your fingers around his.

Kars stared at his hands, fingers being separated by your own, in blatant shock. “You aren’t as bad as I thought you’d be.” You whispered, barely audible to him. He locked eyes with you and without thinking, going against everything he’d ever stood for in the past, he curled his fingers around yours as well. You smiled softly and looked down, avoiding his gaze. Kars’ lips pulled back together, his lips twitching, desperately wanting to smile. “I suppose.” He said hesitantly. “Why are you being nice to me?” He soon asked, turning his gaze back to your face.

He pulled his hand away, taking a step back. “I…” You murmured, retracting your hand as well. He looked between his fingers as though he’d touched gold, small glittering remnants still freckled along his palm. “I don’t know.” you finished with a heavy sigh. He closed his hand into a fist and looked at you with nervous confidence. “Well, if there’s nothing more, then I will take my leave.” He said quickly, nearly stuttering his words. He turned on his heel and began going the way he came. You gazed at his back as he swiftly left the hallway and sighed in disbelief. You had just grabbed his hand.

Kars, it seemed, had fallen in love with the enemy.

The enemy, it seemed, had felt exactly the same.

#kars x reader #kars jjba #pllar men #esidisi #wamuu #jjba part 2 #jjba battle tendency #jjba x reader #jjba fanfic #im actually kinda proud of this #but dont tell anyone ok #x reader #kars jjba x reader #romance fanfic #x reader fanfiction #anime x reader

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beepboop358 · 3 years

Text

Victor Creel Theories

(also includes ST movie DNA series: Star Wars)

Victor Creel is described as "a disturbed and intimidating man who is imprisoned in a psychiatric hospital for a gruesome murder in the 1950s." We know he will be institutionalized at Penthurst mental hospital, where Peter Ballard works, based on leaked on set pics.

There a few possibilities regarding his character:

He could be a former test subject with some kind of powers and a connection to the upside down (which would also follow the even/odd season pattern of a main character being directly involved with the upside down creatures) I think it's highly likely that Victor Creel will be involved with the mystery/danger in Hawkins in some way, and have a connection to the upside down. He could also be disturbed on top of this, and he could be involved in Eleven's storyline this season.

That he is not a test subject and is ONLY mentally disturbed.

He may be related to one of the already established characters. Most likely Joyce, and maybe Terry but it's a stretch.

Before I go any further into that last possibility, I just want to preface that this idea of an "evil father/grandfather with powers" could be a purposeful Star Wars parallel. The Duffer brothers have already paralleled and used Star Wars references a few times in the show:

In Star Wars, Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker's father, and Palpatine is Rey's grandfather (aka the literal worst guy in the universe). A common theme in ST is abusive/bad fathers - that post here. Interesting...

Palpatine is also Anakin Skywalker's father, so Luke and Leia are both the grandkids of Palpatine as well as Rey is, but it's unclear if they are just force midichlorian related or actually dna related as well but I won't get into that here!

Luke and Rey are both force sensitive (have powers), so are Darth Vader and Palpatine; their descendants (kid/grandkid) have powers, and so do they (father/grandfather) The descendants use their powers for good, while the ancestors use their power for evil. Who has powers in ST? Eleven and Will - and they both already have this idea of abusive/bad/evil fathers: Will has an abusive father Lonnie, and Eleven has an abusive father figure Dr. Brenner "Papa".

So... Victor Creel being the evil/bad grandfather to either Eleven or Will and the evil/bad father to Joyce or Terry, would make a FULL Star Wars parallel to people who are morally good and have powers (Will and El - Luke and Rey), discovering they are the descendant of an evil male figure who also has powers (Victor Creel - Darth Vader and Palpatine)

If Victor Creel turns out to be the father of anyone in the show my bets are it's either Joyce Byers or maybeee Terry Ives.

If he was a test subject, its likely he went "crazy" with some of his powers and the government couldn't cover it up so they declare him mentally insane to get him committed, and he probably goes insane being locked away as well. Personally, I think he may be 001 or an early test subject, when they were still working out the kinks of the program, and I think he does have a big connection to the upside down.

The Duffer Brother's on s4: "In Hawkins a new horror is beginning to surface, something long buried, something that connects everything"....

Now let's get into the possibilities for Creel's storyline/who he could be related to (split into 3 parts).

Part 1: Creel could be Joyce's father

Based on Victor Creel's description as "disturbed" and that he is "in a psychiatric hospital", it could connect him to Joyce's bloodline.

There are several comments in the show hinting to this idea of mental instability in Joyce's family:

s1 ep.5: When Lonnie comes to visit in s1 after Will goes missing, Joyce says to Lonnie "No, don't look at me like that, like how everyone is looking at me, like I'm out of my damn mind" He responds saying "I think you need to consider the possibility that this is all in your head. Remember your Aunt Darlene?" Joyce quickly replies, "No, this is not that."

That conversation, although quick, is very telling. Lonnie is implying that Joyce had an aunt who was mentally unstable - and Joyce clearly knows about her aunt being unstable because she responds to his comment by saying what's she's experiencing is not that (the mental instability of her aunt)

s2 ep.2: Joyce says to Bob, "this is not a normal family", when he suggest moving out of Hawkins.

I used to think Joyce was always was referring to the whole 'my son got stuck in an alternate dimension with supernatural monsters and is now traumatized, and we were sworn to secrecy by the government' thing but maybe she is also referring to her biological family.

s1 ep.2: When they are searching for Will, one of the other police officers, says "Joyce is one step from the edge" and the other officer responds "She has been several steps for quite a while now".

If Joyce is related to Victor Creel biologically, and he did also happen to be a test subject, has powers, or has some other relation to the upside down, this could possibly have contributed to whatever kind of abilities Will has, because he would be a descendant of Creel. But Joyce does not seem to have any powers and neither does Jonathan. If they were related to Creel, it's odd that they both didn't get powers, but Will did. I've always thought Will was born with his powers, like El.

We know almost nothing about Joyce's past, it's never discussed in the slightest in the show, which I feel like is purposeful. We don't know Joyce's maiden name; she doesn't change it back after she and Lonnie divorce. Maybe the Duffers are saving Joyce's backstory for s4 (and possibly s5), like I think they are doing with Will and El's connection. Will, El, Hopper, and Joyce were pictured in a series of 4 tweets posted by the stranger writers, hinting to the main 4 storylines for season 4. My analyzation of this tweet here.

I think it's possible that Joyce's storyline this season could also have to do with her past- not just her searching for Hopper- but also more personal information about her. Perhaps we will see flashbacks of younger Joyce and maybe learn about her biological relatives.

Noah also said this would be the darkest season for Will, so this idea of being the grandkid of someone evil or disturbed could fit into that.

Part 2: Creel could be Terry's father/Eleven's grandfather

The only other person I could see potentially having a biological; relation to Victor Creel could be Terry Ives and Eleven, (because it would complete the Star Wars parallel mentioned earlier) but it's a stretch for several reasons, the main one being that Terry and Becky's father Bill Ives, died in a car crash (year unknown).

So for Victor Creel to be Terry's father that either has to be:

Her adoptive father OR

Her mother cheated and led Mr. Ives to believe Terry was his kid but her father is really Victor Creel, and Becky is actually Bill Ives son (which would explain why Becky has no powers)

Right of the bat it's interesting Terry's father's name is Bill. Bill is a nickname for William (Will Byers full name is William), and Billy's a nickname also for William... Hmmm....

Immediately after El is born, Terry is adamant that Brenner stole her child to use as a weapon to fight the commies BECAUSE SHE HAD SPECIAL ABILITIES - and she's completely right about everything. How does Terry know El had powers immediately after she was born? Because she knows she has developed some kind of special abilities from the experiments as well. When El goes to visit her mother in s2, THE LIGHTS FLICKER, just like they do when the upside down is near, but it's not Eleven controlling it. Her Aunt Becky says it's just the wiring, and Eleven responds: "IT'S MAMA. She wants to talk." And then we see Terry's NOSE BLEED, just like El's does when she uses her powers.

Quick side note about El's biological father is Andrew Rich: (It's revealed in the canon novel Suspicious Minds that Andrew Rich is El's father) He was a college student who got expelled from school due to protesting the Nixon address, making him eligible to be drafted in the Vietnam war, and he died in battle. Terry was involved in the Project MKUltra experiments at Hawkins National Laboratory in College, under the direction of Dr. Martin Brenner, but didn't know she was pregnant at the time. Andrew never even knew Terry was pregnant, meaning she was extremely early on in her pregancy at the time he was sent away, not even Terry was aware yet. It's also stated in this book that BRENNER HAD A HAND IN GETTING ANDREW EXPELLED SO HE COULD SEND ANDREW AWAY. The novel states that Brenner has Andrew drafted because he wants to SCARE Terry, to show her how much power he has over her life. There's definitely some history between Terry and Brenner that we don't know about yet.

If Victor Creel is in fact Joyce's father it's interesting that the powers seem to have skipped a generation with Joyce, and also one kid with the Byers, but if Victor Creel is Terry's father, no generations were skipped in passing down powers. ANYWAYS, this is all just theories and speculation since we have no actual concrete reasons to believe he will be related to Joyce or Terry.

Part 3: The possibility that Creel could be involved in Eleven's storyline this season does not rely on them being biologically related.

**One of the filming locations for this season is the Claremont House, which is RUMORED to be Creel's house and also "Vecna's lair" the new monster for s4 (unconfirmed) This is the house the Hawkins group goes into in the ST4 sneak peek, where they see the grandfather clock striking midnight. If that's true, there's a connection between Creel and the upside down and having powers, which could connect Creel to Eleven. The Duffers: "In Hawkins a new horror is beginning to surface, something long buried, something that connects everything". This thing "that connects everything", could be Creel's storyline (his possible connection to the lab/upside down/person in the show), because Creel's storyline also spans all the way back to the 1950's and before that, so there's our "long buried" part most likely.

Robert Englund recently revealed in *an interview* that his character Victor Creel gouges his eyes out, making him unable to see. Englund also mentions what it's like working with Millie Bobby Brown and talks about the first time her met her, he doesn't mention any other cast members in detail like he does Millie.

He's clearly working closely with Millie's character Eleven.

But why? I think Creel could be involved with Eleven getting her powers back, and her reliving her past. Once the government baddies realize El has no powers, they're gonna want them back. If Creel was in fact a test subject, maybe there is some kind of connection between them, Such as Eleven revisiting what happened to her in her past and how that could relate to her getting her powers back.

Another thought I had was that perhaps the gruesome murder he committed is somehow related to something that ends up impacting in Eleven's life.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whatever Victor Creel's storyline is, it will be an important one, and it will carry somewhat into s5, since he will be a returning character. He is not signed as a series regular, but as a recurring character, which means we don't really know to what capacity he will be in s5. It could be flashbacks mostly, or he could have just as big or small of a role.

Source: indie wire

That detail about eyes being gouged out reminds me of fear street 1666 when the townsmen who was sacrificed to the devil becomes possessed and gouges the kids eyes out. Leigh Janick, director of fear street, is married to Ross Duffer. They both direct and make horror/sci-fi themed series about kids in a small town set in the 80's, who fight supernatural evil with a heavy undertone of queer themes, that are even filmed in a lot of the same locations (the mall, the town streets, etc.) I'm not saying it's the same thing, it definitely won't be. But there's so many similarities between ST and Fear Street, I thought I would mention this as another.

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mxtantrights · 3 years

Text

past lives | 10

a/n: final part!! AHHHHHHH stay tuned for the epilogue!!! And thank you guys so much for coming on this journey with me. I really appreciate it and YOU! <3

You awoke to the smell of cement and dry wall. It smelled so bad you could feel it in your throat. Your eyes cleared up to the spectacle in front of you. It was Ra's and Nyssa with their arms crossed.

“Is this some sick parent teacher conference?” you joked.

“No games. You failed to deliver the package.” he said.

“You mean your grandson? The one who left of his own volition?”

“Nonsense he is the heir to everything I have. He can’t leave.”

You looked over more to your former friend, “Nice to see you too Nyssa.”

“Why didn’t you stick to the plan?” she asked.

You look at Ra’s and he’s already staring you down. You don’t think he’s told her. It would have been best not to. Withholding information is his favorite skill anyways.

You’re about to say something when Ra’s comes over and backhands you. It makes you curl in the chair they’ve put you in. You weren’t surprised, that didn’t make it any less worse however.

He really doesn’t want her to know.

“All you had to do was seek him out. You couldn’t even do it.”

His smack- you hate to say it- brought up a thought to the front of your mind.

“When did you know about my father?” you asked.

It’s in words that Nyssa isn’t able to pick up on. You know. He knows. It’s clear he doesn’t want her to know. Another hint at telling her might earn you worse than a slap.

“After you came out of the pit. I looked into your identity some more and did some research.” he said.

“Tell me,” you move your arms bound to the back of the chair, “Did you spawn Damian afterwards because of me?”

“No, you’re not the reason. I had already been watching him for some time. You were just a happy coincidence.” he answered.

Ra's folds his hands behind his back and moves around Nyssa, and then around you. In a circle. The predator and the prey. What was Nyssa this time around?

“You never reached out.” you said directly to her.

“You left.” she shot back.

“He wanted me gone.” you nodded to her father.

“It was a test you imbecile!” she shouted.

It made you flinch. You realized that maybe Nyssa wasn’t going to let bygones be bygones. And from her stand point she didn’t have to. You hurt her.

Ra’s circles around you once more. His eyes never left Nyssa though. It gave you a sickening feeling. How everyone was his pawns. Specifically Talia and Nyssa. The women in that family needed serious counseling after being brought up by a man like that.

“If it was a test then why did he let me live? The moment I stepped out the door I should have been dead!” you shouted back.

She stayed silent. So you continued.

“He’s lying to you Nyssa.” you said.

“She’s right I lied to you. It wasn’t part of some test.”

Nyssa turned to her father in shock. You were sat wondering why he would give himself up so easily. What did he have to play here?

Whatever it was could wait. He was far enough now to not strike you again. You needed to let her know.

“He wanted me as a back up for Damian. My half-brother.” you said.

Nyssa turned back to you and when she did Ra's smacked her too. You winced for her, his hand print would probably be on your face in a few minutes. Just like old times.

He turned to you.

“You ruined my plan to bring my grandson back. Now he knows I’m here.” he said.

“He ran away for good reason. I’m glad he did. I would've never handed him over to you anyways.” you spoke.

“You didn’t have to hand him to me, you were just going to serve him to me on a platter.”

“No. Because I know you were tracking me through my phone, both of them. You think I didn’t notice how heavy that flash drive is? I know a cloning device when I hold one. And the burner phone? That was cheap work.”

He began to laugh. It made you sit further back in your seat. Him laughing was never a good sign. And it never sounded right. All those years in the pit must’ve done something to his laugh, along with the rest of his mind.

Ra's al Ghul came face to face with you. He wasn’t a pleasant man to look at. His breath even more telling on how close to death he is. But you looked him in the eye anyways.

“And that’s why you’re here. The bargaining chip. He’ll come for you, because just as you care for him he cares for you.”

He lets up and in the background you saw Nyssa shift her arm really quickly. You don’t know what it was for.

The family had gotten a hit on your location. It had been four hours since you were taken. Everyone decided to suit up and hit the streets for the first two hours. Redhood and Red Robin took downtown, Nightwing enlisted the help of GCPD to search Midtown and Batman and Robin took Uptown. With the league they couldn’t be too careful.

In the middle of searching is when they got a comms message from Alfred. Your phone had pinged off a tower in Crime Alley. As Bruce and Damian were closest they began to head over to that neighborhood. The rest of the boys and some footmen from the GCPD were on their way over.

Batman and Robin got there and Alfred was able to narrow down the closest tower that your phone pinged off of.

In the bat mobile Damian remained quiet. He had kept mum about the real reason you were there with him when Gotham Academy had caught on fire. Bruce could tell it was something he wanted to speak about alone.

“So what's the real reason?”

Damian let out a sigh, “This isn’t our first meeting. We’ve had a relationship since I was born. Back on the island.”

“With the league?”

“Yes. It was sad when we could no longer see each other, grandfather had offered an out. I never thought we would see each other again.”

Bruce stayed quiet for a moment. All that could be heard was the engine of the batmobile.

“Did you know you were related?”

“I found that out the same day as Gotham Academy. We had a conversation later that night.”

“You snuck out?”

“I had to father. It was for good reason. We were able to put the pieces together. I said I would handle grandfather.”

“Damian.”

“This has gone on for too long. It’s my fault. If something happens-”

“We’ll make it.”

Then he steps more on the gas.

Your head lulled forward after the sixth blow he dealt you. It wasn’t like you earned it. He wanted to prove a point to Nyssa. That you were expendable to him. That in the grand scheme of things you didn’t matter.

“All that training, wasted! You can’t even get out of the restraints.”

You swallowed the blood that was in your mouth, “What makes you think he’ll come for me?”

“We’re going to send a public ransom across all of Gotham. I figure a hundred thousand as the bounty will circulate enough to get to him. And then he’ll come and find you.”

“He’s just a child.”

“No he’s more than a child. He’s my grandson, the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul.”

“And what does she think about all this?”

“Enough!” he shouted.

You were punched again.

“I’ll get someone to send the ransom around.” Nyssa’s voice said.

You lifted your head up to look at her but her back was already turned to you. This however did earn you another punch, to the gut this time, by Ra’s. You let out a disgusting sound at the impact.

“Instead of a coincidence you’ve become an inconvenience. This time I won’t put you in the pit.”

“Why would you ever put me in there in the first place, huh? I was a no one! You didn’t know me or my mother. You just snatched my body and made me one of your foot soldiers.” you screamed through the incoming headache.

He did that mechanical laugh again and you wanted to spit at him. You never thought he was a good man. All the things he did. The things he told you to do. You can’t absolve all of the blame but he was an undeniable reason why you did those things.

Drop offs turned into stake outs. Stake outs into undercover. Undercover into sedation. With him the lines were blurred, because there was supposed to be nothing you wouldn’t do for him. But you chose Damian. Or, you chose Damian’s new life over his old one. And he didn't like that one bit.

The door bused open and in came Batman. You didn't think you'd live to see him up close. It’s true that while in Gotham you would probably see him once or twice. But this?

You watched as Ra's attacked him on sight. It was like the two were in sync. Batman hit, Ra’s dodged. A kick here, a swerve there. They seemed to be equals. You know you could never pull that off. Ra’s would have you flat out in under a minute.

When Batman should have swerved he didn’t. And Ra’s got the best of him with a punch. This gave way to a kick to the side and a head pull into the ground. You struggled to get out of your restraints. It wasn’t looking good for either of you.

Ra’s picked him up, and you watched in horror as he hurled him toward you. Batman collided with you so hard that he broke the chair you were in. It sent you back into one of the many crates in the room.

Batman groaned as you lifted him off of you. You slid over to the side on the floor. He was definitely not light. He knocked the only wind out of you that remained after Ra’s punishment.

No more chair meant your hands were free.

You pulled your arms around to the front. You could try to take him like this. Even though you could hear him laughing in the foreground.

“Here.”

You looked over at Batman. He was holding out one of his knives, shaped like a bat. You took it without passing a comment on it. You passed the blade over the restraints and made quick work of them.

On your feet, the laughter stops. You inched closer and closer to him.

“I didn’t snatch your body, your mother handed you over when she found out you were murdered. She asked me for this!” he said.

You stopped.

“What are you talking about?”

“When you died she went to a very dark place. With how dark she got it didn’t take long for her to find one of my associates and get in contact with me. She begged for you to be brought back. Her child!”

You ran into the attack. The words that came from his mouth just made you see red. He threw his fists but you ducked and weaved. After weaving you landed multiple blows on him. You grabbed him by the shoulders and brought your knee into him.

He went down a bit, only for a few seconds, then got his bearings back. Ra’s spit out the blood from his mouth.

“You’ll leave here with no parents. And it’ll be at my behest.”

In through the door comes Robin. A robin with a face too familiar to hide behind a mask.

“Grandfather!” the little robin shouted.

That makes you look behind you. At Batman. Bruce Wayne.

Your father was Batman. Your father.

#dc x reader #batman x reader #damian wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #Ra's al Ghul x reader #robin x reader #Tim Drake x reader #Nightwing x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #Jason Todd x reader #PAST LIVES

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ur-favorite-queer-queen · 3 years

Text

Enemies to Lovers

For Maribat March day 23 theme enemies to lovers

Master List

“Kent’s coming over.” Damian stated at breakfast, none of the other Wayne’s seemed phased by this, none but one.

“Again?” At Damian’s nod she continued, “I’ll be in my room or the Batcave so don’t bring him there.”

"He will also be bringing a friend over from that exchange program his school did with the one in London." Damian added, Marinette tensed a little bit but didn’t say anything else.

"Is Jon bringing a stranger over a good idea?" Tim asked.

"Tt, Kent said that he would make sure the boy wouldn't wander." Damian answered, after 9 years in the manor he still hadn't gotten rid of his tt habit.

"I'll be in my room then, I don't want Jon or his friend bothering me." Marinette announced to no one's surprise.

“Marinette,” She turned to look at Dick, “Why don’t you like Jon? This has been going on for almost a year now. Surely you could give him another chance. Or at the very least his friend?”

“Not interested.” And with that she finished her breakfast and went to go help Alfred with cleaning the dishes, like she did every morning.

Damian watched his younger half blood sister go, frown evident on his face. Marinette Wayne had been living with them for over a year now. While she was now 16, her opinion of one Jonathan Kent still had not changed.

After Bruce had a one night stand with her mother she had been born 9 months later, Sabine having no intention of telling Bruce. What she did not expect was that 15 years later she and her husband would be guilty of negligence and emotional abuse of Marinette and custody would be handed to her bio father. Aka Bruce Wayne.

Marinette changed her last name to Wayne and left her life in Paris behind. There was not much left for her there anyways. But she had never told her new family why she was so insistent on leaving Paris behind. More specifically who she was leaving behind.

The Waynes had gotten used to her bubbly personality in the manor, so they were shocked that when they sent her off to Gotham Academy she was dubbed the ‘Ice Princess’ the next morning.

Turns out after what happened in Paris, she refused to open up to anyone. Most days she was found sketching in her sketchbook, always alone. She still got straight A’s and even participated in a few clubs but never made one friend. It was concerning, how much she resembled Damian in that sense.

One day after patrol, after Marinette headed off to bed they started discussing Marinette's social life. Tim had joked that since she's such a ray of sunshine around them that she should meet Jon.

This idea was met with positive reactions, all of them agreeing that Jon would be a good influence for her. He was also her age so that was a plus. And he was Damian's first friend, perhaps he could be Marinette's.

That weekend they were proven wrong. Very wrong. Marinette refused to be in the same room as Jon, and when trying to gently push the boundaries she had set, she grew hostile. Something they had never seen from her for as long as they had known her.

One of their first thoughts was that she was scared of Jon, since he was half Kryptontian. But that idea was quickly shut down after Jason brought up the time she roasted Superman to his face. And had no regrets.

Then they figured it was because he was still a stranger to her. So they had him over more often. But after 2 months they realized that wasn’t the case either. Yet, none of them had the slightest clue why she was so against Jonathon Kent.

Not even Jon knew. All Jon knew was that whenever he walked into the same room as Marinette she grew annoyed. He knew she disliked him but that wasn’t what he was confused about. What made him confused was that he could sense her fear. She was scared of him, and he had no idea why.

He thought about telling the Batfamily, thought about telling Damian, but how would it go over that the latest addition to the Batclan was scared of him. Especially knowing how paranoid and protective they could be. So he just stuck to avoiding her at all costs, it wasn’t that big of a deal anyways.

Marinette didn’t see Jon as an enemy per se she saw him as an enemy, but he was just someone she strongly disliked, she had her reasons. And while Jon definitely didn’t see Marinette as an enemy, the more she ignored him, and he would need to ignore her, started to grate on his nerves. If she was in a room that he was going to enter he would have to wait for her to leave and vice versa. It was getting tiring and he was starting to dislike her more and more to the point she almost became his enemy.

Today would be no different except for one detail. That detail being a blonde haired, green eyed, sunshine child that reminded Jon of himself. While Adrien was a little too naive for his taste, they had gotten along great and he wanted to introduce him to Damian.

Adrien had seemed intrigued by the idea of meeting a Wayne. Apparently his father used to be a businessman and despite the fact he was from France and only moved to London a year ago, he knew of how famous the Waynes are.

Now here they were, in his dad’s car going to Wayne manor.

“Okay, you remember what I told you right?” Jon questioned Adrien, he was making sure the boy was prepared and didn’t accidentally stumble upon the Batcave or anything relating the Waynes to the Bats.

“Yes I know, no wandering around the manor, it’s too big and I’ll get lost. No staring in awe at the Waynes, they’re not the celebrities the press makes them out to be. And if I see a girl with dark hair, blue eyes, and looks to be a head shorter than me, I am to walk away immediately in the other direction and pretend I didn’t see her.” Adrien listed off.

“Perfect!” Jon, exclaimed he was going to add more but his dad interrupted him.

“Okay boys we’re here, I hope you have a good time Adrien.”

“Thanks Mr. Kent, I will!” Adrien cheerfully replied as he followed Jon out of the car. Sometimes this boy reminded Jon too much of himself.

“Master Jon, lovely to see you again. Is this your friend?” Alfred greeted them at the door.

“Yep! This is Adrien Graham de Vanily, Adrien this is Alfred, the Waynes butler but is more like a surrogate grandfather if anything.” Jon introduced.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Alfred.” Adrien stuck out his hand to shake.

“It is nice to meet you too Master Graham de Vanily, please just call me Alfred.”

“Then you can just call me Adrien, Alfred, my last name is such a mouthful.”

“Of course Master Adrien, now will you two be staying for dinner?”

“I don’t know, is it okay if we do?” Jon answered, secretly asking if she would be okay with it.

“It’ll be okay Master Jon. I will inform the others we will be having two guests stay with us for dinner.” Alfred led them inside, “Master Damian should be in the gaming room.” And with that he left.

“Come on, Damian is probably setting up some games for us to play.” Jon grabbed Adrien’s hand and started dragging him down a hallway.

Marinette could hear when Alfred had opened the door for Jon and his friend, she didn’t have super hearing but she had trained her ears for listening for certain things. Like the front door opening.

After a few minutes Alfred had come to tell her the two would be staying for dinner. It wasn’t ideal but she could live with it, all she had to do was give Jon and his friend the cold shoulder for at most an hour. Nothing new to her.

Now a whole hour had passed and she was getting hungry. She still had another hour till dinner so a small snack would be fine. But leaving her room posed the risk of running into Jon or his friend, and she didn’t want to risk an interaction with either of them.

Both of them are with Damian right now. There are no bathrooms near her room or the kitchen. If she hurries it will only take her 10 minutes to get to the kitchen, grab the cookies she made earlier, and come back to her room. And since Damian was banned from the kitchen this week, and both of his new friends are stuck with him, they shouldn’t be anywhere near the kitchen.

Of course when was the universe ever on her side. She was about to open the kitchen door when someone she thought she would never have to see again uttered her name, “Marinette?”

She knew the voice. It was the same voice that told her to stay quiet all those years ago when a vicious liar ran her mouth. The same one that said he was on her side then abandoned her the second things got too tough for him. The same one that didn’t speak up whenever she tried to defend herself, instead saying not to rock the boat. And now the owner of that voice was in her home.

She steeled her face into something cold and emotionless, despite the fear she felt in her stomach and turned to face him, “Agreste.”

“It’s Graham de Vanily now.” He corrected, both forgetting/not noticing the two other people there.

“Pretty sure it’s Agreste, you know, just like your father.” She bit back, venom laced into every word.

“He’s not my father, not anymore.” He replied, fists clenched at his sides, staring her straight in the eyes, confusing the other two boys.

“You sure, because you’re exactly like him, you know.” She raised an eyebrow and matched his gaze.

“I am nothing like him.” Adrien took a threatening step forward and that’s when Damian immediately stepped in front of Marinette, wanting to protect his little sister from this person who just threatened her. Damian was about to ask something but was cut off when Marinette moved around him to face Adrien.

“Really? Both of you put your own wants and desires above the well being of other people. Your father the people of Paris, and for you it was me.” Jon saw she was visibly shaking, from fear or anger he wasn’t sure. Both emotions were pretty strong for her, and when he focused on Adrien all the boy felt was guilt.

“Look Mari I’m-” He was cut off by Marinette’s angry shout.

“You would think that after all you put me through you would at least have the dignity to not call me by a nickname that friends are only allowed to call me. You know, people who actually care about me!”

“Marinette, I’m sorry okay, that was really dumb of me!” Adrien shouted back.

“Save it! You can pretend to regret your actions all you want, but people like you don’t change! That’s something you taught me!” Snack forgotten, Marinette ran back to her room and slammed the door. Locking it, she slid down the back of it and just cried.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do Graham de Vanily. How do you know my little sister? Why did she react to you like that? What did she mean by ‘all you put her though?’...” As Damian kept spitting out question after question Jon followed Marinette. Her cries were the only thing he could hear right then and there.

As he made his way closer to her, the cries stopped, only tiny sniffles coming out. “What do you want Kent?” He could hear the shaking in her voice no matter how much she tried to cover it up.

He sat down, his back resting on the closed door thinking about what he should say. “I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I find that hard to believe. You wanted answers didn’t you?” She hiccuped in between words.

“A little bit.”

“Well once upon a time there was a teenage girl who wore rose colored glasses all the time. She saw the world in rainbows and sunshine, never knowing of the darkness. Then one day a lying fox came into her life, spreading her tall tales. The girl tried to warn her friends and family but they didn’t listen. The fox ripped off the girl’s glasses and forced her to see the world for what it really was. The girl’s love at the time came to her and told her to keep silent, after all the fox’s lies weren’t hurting anyone. It was then she noticed that the boy wore the same glasses she did, only his were much stronger than hers had ever been. But she loved him, so she believed him, that everything would turn out okay, that if it didn’t he would be by her side.

Slowly those around the girl turned on her, despite her doing nothing wrong. The boy who she once loved left her the second things got tough, never letting her stand up for herself. Soon the lying fox had gotten to her parents, things escalated from there. Now the girl moved to live with her bio family and everything was fine for a time. But then a boy who saw the world in sunshine and rainbows came around, and she was reminded of her past all over again.” Marinette finished her tale, her hiccups had faded away.

“You don’t like me because I remind you of Adrien?” He hesitantly asked.

“You don’t just remind me of him. Every time I see you I see him. But you’re also different from him. I don’t know. When you’re all happy and optimistic you're like him, but you also know how to be serious, which is something he could never do. I don’t know how to explain it but I thought if I kept you away from it would be alright. I really messed up didn’t I?” Marinette tried to keep the tears in her eyes from falling.

“Kind of. But if you want we can start over.” Jon suggested, he wouldn’t mind getting to know the Marinette Damian talked so fondly about, not that Damian would ever admit it.

He heard the lock unlock and he stood up as the door opened. He turned around and there was Marinette, her eyes were a little red and she had tears stains on her cheeks but she looked much better than before.

She stuck her hand out, “Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Marinette Wayne.” She looked up to look in his eyes and wondered if they were always so blue. And oh god please say she didn’t start blushing!

“Nice to meet you Marinette. I’m Jonathan Kent, but you can call me Jon.” Jon took her hand and shook it, his eyes looked into hers and he couldn’t help but think they looked so beautiful when they weren’t glaring at him. Unfortunately, Damian’s scream broke them out of their daze.

“ANSWER ME!!!”

“We better go help him.” Marinette pulled her hand back.

“Yeah we probably should.” Jon replied but Marinette was already racing to where they left the boys. Jon ran to catch up with her, mentally berating himself for thinking his friend’s sister was cute.

Marinette on the other hand was mentally berating herself for thinking that someone she used to dislike so much was now cute. Not to mention he’s her brother’s best friend. Well, Damian doesn’t have to know she thinks that.

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I’m back from the dead! As I said before in What If... (which you can find on my master list day 22) school sucks and has been burying my grave so I had to focus on that for a while. But I have this and What If... done and am planning on doing the other days I have not crossed off on my Master List.

This took so long to write and I’m already planning a part 2. Anyways hope u enjoyed!

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #maribat march #marijon #enemies to lovers #planning a part 2 #stay tuned #marinette wayne #little sister marinette #big brother damian #adrien graham de vanily

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hexpea · 2 years

Text

Ch. 6 - Jealousy

⚠️MILD NSFW BELOW⚠️

The night was still young and it was Friday after all. With your father asleep and grandfather gone, you decided to meet up with some friends and head to a local bar, this time not a strip club. They may have abandoned you at the strip club, but this night was different. It was shaping up to be a great night of drinking and weekly gossip shared between good friends. You felt lucky to have a fulfilling social life, Gojo being a mere hiccup in the middle of it. You shrugged the whole dinner off, thinking that all would be good as soon as you "broke it off" with Gojo so your life could return to normal. It really was a good plan. You got your grandfather off your back about "settling down" (at least for now), Gojo got to torment him a little...it was a win-win situation - just a little white lie.

Your vision slowed and you began seeing things in double as the alcohol began to course through your veins. You became more chatty and easygoing, the confidence in you rising quickly. You suddenly felt confident to talk to the blonde male sitting next to you. You were down to have a little fun. That's what weekends are for!

"Hey," you greeted with a sweet smile as the man took a sip from his drink.

He had a bit of a hostile expression, but that changed when he took one look at you. "Well, hello," he greeted with a crooked smile, very obviously looking you up and down.

"I'm Y/N," you introduced, "nice to meet you."

"You as well, I'm Naoya," the way he spoke was similar to a snake's. His tone of voice and the way his lips moved as he spoke were cold and calculating. You weren't entirely sure what to make of his character, but decided to continue to see if it'd go anywhere. "Nice to meet you as well."

The two of you continued in light conversation. Mostly him. You'd ask a question to carry the small talk and he'd drone on quite a bit about himself, but it wasn't necessarily a deterrent - at least for a one night stand. While he spoke, you allowed yourself to doze away a bit, staring just behind him at the room and other patrons - hoping for something more entertaining to look at. That was when you saw him.

Gojo Satoru was sitting in a booth against the wall, facing you. He was with another woman, schmoozing it up. She was very clearly into him, making sure her body was snug against him as he held her. She also looked incredibly intoxicated, the flush in her cheeks was very telling. You stared just a bit too long, curious to what he was still doing in Kyoto. Because of your long stare, it only too a few seconds before Gojo felt your eyes and suddenly caught a glimpse of your stare. Your eyes flittered back to Naoya, nodding as if you were totally listening to whatever it was he was droning on about.

"Naoya!" Gojo chimed happily, interrupting your conversation partner. Your eyes quickly widened when Gojo called him by name, darting quickly between the two of them to figure out how they knew one another.

Naoya's face dropped once the shock passed, "what do you want, Satoru?" He looked incredibly annoyed by Gojo's presence, entire body tense and sitting straight. Gojo was slouching with his arm across Naoya's shoulders.

"Oh nothing, just came over to see what you were up to!" He grinned directly at the blonde. "Funny seeing you here!"

"I had business with the Kyoto higher ups," Naoya turned to face the bar and grabbed his drink, downing the last of it to better deal with the nuisance next to him.

"Oh, I don't care about that. I'm talking about Y/N," he nodded in your direction.

"How do you two know each other?" You asked seriously, eyes still darting between the two men.

"Oh, he's a Zenin," Gojo patted Naoya on the head and Naoya tried to bat him away, gritting his teeth. "The...second most powerful sorcerer family."

"I am the future head of the clan," he said coolly as if that were supposed to impress you, leaning on the bar with a cocky eyebrow lifted.

"God," you sighed, your turn to turn toward the bar so you could put your forehead in your hands. "I cannot escape sorcerers," you muttered to yourself.

"Wait a minute...how do you two know each other?" Naoya turned to Gojo, expecting him to answer.

"She's Gakuganji's granddaughter," he snickered, making your cheeks flush. "Are you two...planning to go home together?" Naoya gasped at the sudden news.

"That's none of your business," you quickly looked up to meet Gojo's blindfold. It was difficult to make out his full expression when he wore it. If you could see his eyes, you could determine his motive a bit easier.

"It is if you're my...girlfriend," he teased. You wanted to punch him right then and there but you didn't.

"You're dating?!" Naoya about had a meltdown.

"No, no we're not," you glared at Gojo. "If you don't mind, I would like to return to my conversation with Naoya." This was absolutely untrue. You had chosen the wrong person to initiate with, but it was too late and having Gojo around was clearly making things worse.

"Sure, sure," Gojo threw his hands up and backed away. "See you later, Y/N."

The night carried on from there. Naoya tried his best to ignore the fact that you knew Gojo and that it was likely you had slept with him based on his "girlfriend" joke. He liked that you listened, to which he took full advantage to boast about his accomplishments and bash on the members of his family. You were learning more about the jujutsu community by talking to him than in your years of just being a Gakuganji. But your eyes were elsewhere as you barely listened. You couldn't help but find your eyes wandering just behind Naoya's head to where Gojo and the girl he brought got even closer in that booth. Her hands wandered all over his chest, she nipped at his lower lip, his hand was clearly on her thigh from under the table. You...felt...something. Jealousy?

You tried to shake off the strange feeling you chalked up as the alcohol and listen to Naoya's boring stories. You focused on the blonde's eyes, sinister and narrow. His grin was somehow cockier than Gojo's, teeth white as snow from behind his lips. Things with Gojo's date began to get a little more heated. You swore you could see tongue. You took a deep breath and gave another smile and nod to Naoya's mumblings.

Something about seeing that woman grazing her delicate fingertips along his jaw with her tongue down his throat set something off. Your competitive nature coming out.

"Naoya..." you interrupted, stepping down from the bar stool to come between his legs. Your hands lightly grabbed his thighs. He looked slightly appalled by your interruption. Your fingertips moved upward and played with some of the loose fabric of his button up. You looked up at him with your doe eyes, long eyelashes closing at a tauntingly slow pace. "Can I kiss you?"

His appalled expression softened into one of pride yet again, a cocky and crooked smile on his lips. "Absolutely..." his voice was low, eyelids lowering to match, "...sugar." The pet name absolutely made you want to shiver, but you had to go through with it. You had to win.

You quickly closed the gap between you both, lacing your fingers into the black-tinted blonde strands. You made sure to moan slightly, as if Gojo could hear you. It drove Naoya into a bit of a feral state. You felt the grip of his fingertips stiffen and dig into your top, that grip also pulling you closer in between his legs as he sat atop a bar stool. You used one eye to peek at Gojo who appeared to be to interested in his date still to notice your affections toward another.

What does it matter? You thought hopelessly while still attached to Naoya's face. We're just fake dating. A dumb one night stand got me into this mess...

You pulled away from his lips, a trail of spit connecting you both. He looked at you through low, intoxicated lids. "Are you opposed to taking this to the...restroom?" You tilted your head, centimeters away from his lips as you tried to seduce him.

"Not at all," he responded almost breathless from your kiss. It was as if your liquor-coated tongue brought him past the point of tipsy.

You grinned devilishly and began to lead the way, pulling his wrist with you. The bathrooms were just past Gojo, and this was your last resort to get his attention.

Just as you began to walk by, you locked eyes with his blindfold - leading Naoya with his own devilish smile by the wrist to the bathroom. His head slowly turned as you walked by, gaze meeting your locked hand on his. His lips slightly parted as if seeing this triggered him, you held your cocky grin and turned your head away.

"Alright, let's get this over with," you sighed after you had shoved him into a stall in the bathroom.

You quickly unbuttoned his pants and dropped them to his ankles. He looked a bit too inebriated to argue, simply watching as you began your work. You crouched to your knees despite wearing a dress. You slipped his cock free, pink tip pointed directly at you. Nothing I've never seen before, you thought in order to give yourself motivation. You refused to hesitate to take him into your mouth, tongue flat against the underside of his tip as you slowly pushed him deeper into your throat.

You continued like that for a few minutes, his deep sighs echoing through the tiled room and his fingers laced around the crown of your head. Considering you were both the only ones in the room, you didn't bother covering up your slurping sounds. That was, at least, until you heard the door open. You froze completely and watched the footsteps from under the stall doors...those familiar black Chelsea boots. You sighed loudly as soon as you heard it, annoyed with his presence and knowing he came in on purpose.

He hummed happily to himself as you saw his boots head to a urinal. He began to relieve himself when he chuckled. "You know, you should be more subtle. If you're not careful, they'll kick you out." His voice was cockier than ever as he finished, zipping up and washing his hands. "Anyway...have fun, you two. Heheh."

"That asshole," you hissed under your breath.

"Hey, he's gone. You can keep going," Naoya nearly commanded, looking down at you with red cheeks - a rush of blood from what you had been doing.

You rolled your eyes and simply went along with it. One blowjob's not gonna' kill me...

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