#Give kisses to corpse Wally | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

icdrawings · 8 months

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Corpse puppet au

By @sketchquill

Chapter 5

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The living world

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Wally's pov

I felt the wind against my face as I opened my eyes when I looked to see Gold starting up at the moon as their dress reflected the moonlight as the snow surrounded us 'they look magnificent' I thought before I started to talk "I spent so long in the darkness ,I almost forgotten what the moonlight looks like" I started to dance around feeling enjoyment in a while before turning to my beloved "join me dear" I said as I reach my hand out for them. It took them without hesitation to accept it giving me a soft smile as we started to slow dance, our first dance was a bit... well it was rushed so I wanted to finally have a slow dance with them in the moonlight, I couldn't be more happier, not once have we broken eye contact as we got closer and closer and closer as our heads were touching as Gold placed their hand on my face as we kept getting closer before...

"GOLD!!!"

'DAMN IT' I internally screamed as we pulled back "papa?" Gold said letting go 'nooooooo' I had to let them go "I'm sorry Wally I forgot, I should let papa know about you, hopefully he'll like you" they said letting go of my hand "perfect" I said trying to hide my bitterness "please wait here I won't be long" they said with a smile that made me melt "okay" I said as Gold walked away.

Once they were out of my site I fell to the gound and started having a tantrum about not getting my kiss

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Gold's pov

I speed walk out of the forest to see the Eddie was about to walk in "GOLD!!!" Eddie saw me, rushed towards me as he gave me a huge hug "oh my gosh peaches! Thank God your safe! What happened?!" He said checking my face to see if I was hurt "oh, no, no I'm alright, actually I need you to meet someone" I said grabbing his hands gently "wha-what! So that rumor, the other man, that was true?!" He said shocked "well... yes it was sudden but I would like for you to meet him" I said "gosh Gold really? me but I ain't your real father and I don't even know this man" Eddie said sadden so I gave him I hug "you may not be my real father but you are my papa and that means you're my family so I would like for you to meet him" I said "gosh, really? kid you're gonna make me cry, you're too sweet, am I even gonna like this man" he said wiping a tear from his eye "you would love him" I said with a smile "okay, okay! when do I meet him?" He asked a bit excited "I'll introduce him but I need to talk to Howdy first" I said stern "the last thing I know is that he is at his home" Eddie said "thank you Eddie now please go home, get some rest" I said as we both walked the bridge "okay, okay your right peaches, your right" he said as we got to the edge of the bridge "goodnight peaches" Eddie said "goodnight papa" I said as we went out separate ways "wait!" I shouted at Eddie making him stop and he looked at me "Frank says he loves you too" I said before rushing off to the Pillar estate unknown that Eddie was crying tears of happiness

I got to the Pillars estate and was about to knock but stopped when I heard the Pillar's talking "if ever I see that Treasure kid, ill strangle them with my bare hands" I heard Mr. Pillars say "your hands are too fat and their neck is too thin, you'll have to use a rope" Ms. Pillar said making me terrified as I backed away from the door looking for another way to see a brick wall, I knew what I had to do and started to climb up

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Wally's pov

"This is the voice of your consciousness, listen to what I say, I have a bad feeling about that person you know that Gold is no-" I smacked out Home out of my head as he fell into the snow "go chew someone else's ear for a while" I said with anger before continuing "Gold has gone to visit their papa, just like they said" I continued "if I hadn't been sitting in it, I would have said that you have lost your mind!" Home said insulting me 'how dare this little' I calmed myself down "I'm sure they have a perfectly good reason... for taking so long" I said sounding unsure "oh, I am sure they do, why don't you go asked them" Home snapped back "alright I will" I said ready to prove home wrong "after all, they couldn't have gotten that far with those cold feet" Home said as I let Home back inside my head and started to follow Gold's footsteps

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Gold's pov

I finally got to Howdy's balcony and knocked on his glass door see Howdy turn and gasp before rushing to open it "hello Howdy" I said "Gold!? I'm so happy to see you, come by the fire" he said letting me inside to sit down "where have you been? A-are you alright?" He asked franticly before grabbing my hand "you're cold as death, what's happened to you" he said before looking down at my dress "your dress!" He looked up "your hair!" He said as one of his hands went through it but I backed away from it "H-Howdy... I need to confess something" I said as he finally let removed his hand from my hair, I looked down not wanting to look at him at all just as I have been doing from the start only to look up when he held my hands more tightly "no let me confess, this morning I was terrified of marriage, but then, on meeting you, I felt... I should be by your side and that our wedding could not come soon enough" he confessed taking me by surprise but guilt as I pulled my hands away still refusing to look at him "H-Howdy I... I don't-" I tried to figure out what to say as I finally looked up to see Wally at the balcony as we made eye contact before me came in "my darling, just wanted to meet..." Wally finally noticed Howdy as he reached his hands out as I grabbed it making me closer to him "who is he?" Howdy said terrified to see the corpse husband "I'm their husband" Wally said with anger as he showed off his ring "Gold!?" Howdy question not understanding

I hugged Wally, burying my head in his chest in the opposite direction from Howdy as Wally held me tight "I'm sorry" I whispered trying not to cry due to the guilt I felt as Wally stared Howdy down with hatred "hopscotch" he muttered darkly as I held Wally tighter pulling us towards the balcony as crows surrounded us "NO! NO! GOLD!" I heard Howdy shout yet I couldn't look back only shutting my eyes waiting for it to be over

I felt my feet on the ground, reopening my eye to see that we where indeed back in the library in the land of the dead being harshly pulled off by Wally "you lied to me" he said angerily "I-I..." I stuttered "go back to that other man" his voice trembled as he pointed up " the-the m... m-marrige was... originally b-between me and h-him so... that-that does m-mean you are t-the other m-man" I was never good with confrontation, I would either submit or cry but I was trying not to cry in front of Wally, didn't want to look like the victim with Wally's misundstanding "NO! you're married to me! He's the other man!" Wally said crying 'i didn't it again another mistake, you hurt someone again, useless, heartless, NOBODY' my mind kept screaming at me as I started to shake a bit as Frank took notice but did nothing knowing that this is between me and Wally

"And I thought... I thought it was going so well" his tear gushed out causing his right eye to fall out, it right led towards me as I picked it up and cleaned it off staring into it "I-I am sorry, so s-sorry... cou-could... this marriage e... even w-work" I started to question "why not!?" Wally said as he looked at his eye in my hand "it's my eye isn't it" he said insecurely make my heart twist in pain "no, not at all, your eye is lovely" I said before walking over to him and carefully placed it back in making sure not to cause any further damage

Once in he looked away "in d-different circumstances...maybe... b-but we are d-different I am l-living and y-you are d-dead" my stutter got worse as I tried to explain but couldn't due to panic, stress, and pain, pain for hurting him, I tried to calm down my breathing to focus "you should've of that before you asked me to marry you" Wally said yelling and crying "I was p-practicing my v-vows... I-I didn't e-even know you w-were there s... so" I tried not to cry "so I was... a mistake?" he said sounding empty as I look to see his eyes full of hurt and rushed out of the library

I could only stare at the doors, the doors he walked out of, unaware that I was crying, unaware that I had stopped breath, unaware that my hand was clasped on my mouth, unaware that Frank was next to me after seeing me in distress, unaware that he tried to talk to me

I felt warmth, the good warmth, warmth that only be given by love, giving me comfort I finally gasp "oh thank the gods, you terrified me little one" I look to see Frank hugging me "... I'm... sorry" I said as he started to let go before he grabbed my hands "look, I may not know what exactly happened but something tells me that you wouldn't hurt him, at least not on purpose" he said gently rubbing my hands with his thumbs "right now you both need to calm down before talking again" he said "oh, okay... thank you" I said "how about you go on a walk, recollect yourself" he said letting go of my hands "I... I think I will thank you Frank" I said before walking out the library and started walking unknown that a certain bird was near by

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Jewel's pov

I was working on one the costumes for Sally when Poppy rushed in "oh hello Poppy" I said looking up from the skirt "Jewel dear your siblings is back" she said "really how are they?" I asked excited to know how they where doing "oh dear I don't think they're doing well, I saw them crying" Poppy said concern "oh gosh did you see where they were heading" I asked "down the street in think" she said as I rushed to the door "Poppy could you watch the shop please" I quickly asked "of course now hurry they need you" she said nugding her feather for me to leave and I did running full speed to comfort my baby sibling

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Chapter 6

#welcome home #o/c #wally darling #welcome home oc #wally darling x o/c #wally darling x reader #wally x reader #corpse puppet au #@sketchquill

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cherrythepuppet · 6 months

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Corpse puppet [Part 15]

as everyone began screaming and panicking once more of the dead came

"Fetch me musket!" Lord piller yelled "Fetch your own musket. l'm off!" The butler yelled as he ran out of the house "who invited these people?!" Lady piller asked

"They must be from your side of the family" lord piller mumbled "Certainly not!" Lady piller yelled as she hit lord piller in the head

"Why, if my Grandfather Piller could see this, he'd be turning in his grave!" Lord piller said "Harold Where do you keep the spirits?" Grandfather piller said

Lord and lady piller looked at each other then screamed and ran off

"ln other news, the dead walk the earth!" The town crier screamed "Get back! Don't try and sneak up on me!"

"Get back! l'll give you such a wallop!" Everyone was screaming as the dead ran around as Cherry stood in the street enjoying the chaos just then She noticed two Old Men running off to try and get to safety

The old men noticed Cherry and the two stared at each other Before one of the old men slowly came up to her, Cherry's eyes widened and she felt like crying but There was silence for a few moments "Cherry?" One of the men asked "Dads!" Cherry exclaimed as she hugged them

As Cherry hugged her dads she saw Ms Beagle Being hugged by Barnaby Meanwhile Eddie was backed into a corner and he grabbed a stick "BACK UP!" He yelled as Frank saw him and ran towards him

"Eddie!" Frank exclaimed making Eddie's eyes go wide now "Frank?" He asked "But- You died fifteen Years ago" he said as frank hugged him "Frankly, my dear, l don't give a damn" Frank said as he then kissed Eddie

Once the living had realized who everyone was they all were over joyed to see their passed loved ones

"Wait That's it! We're going to take whatever money we can and get out of here" julie said as she came out from hiding "Money? What money?" Howdy asked

"Your dowry! lt's my right!" Julie yelled "But my parents don't have any money...lt's my marriage to you that will save them from the poorhouse" Howdy told her

"Th- The poorhouse?! You're lying! It isn't true...Tell me that you're lying!" Julie yelled "Did things not go according to your plan, Lady Joyful?" Howdy asked

Julie in a fit of rage kicked a chair then left the house and so did Howdy and he was shocked to see the dead and living all heading to the church

"Be gone! ye demons from hell!" Pastor Kermit yelled as the dead along with some living people came to the church "Back to the void from whence you came! You shall not enter here Back, back!" He yelled

"Keep it down, we're in a church!" A skeleton said as the dead and living ignored him and walked into the church and took a seat

Cherry sighed as she sat behind a table with home on her shoulder "Frank owes me for this, I'm not even a licensed minister or whatever their called" Cherry groaned as wally stood in front of the table

"Whatever this is a dead wedding it doesn't count do it?" Cherry asked as the dead and living sat down and Howdy snuck in and hid to see what was happening

(Y/n) soon came and stood across from Wally "Dearly beloved and departed we are gathered here today to join this woman and this corpse in marriage" Cherry said

Wally and (Y/n) stood in front of the table unaware by the fact that Howdy was hiding behind a piller "(Y/n)?" He mumbled

"Living first..." Cherry sighed "I'm too old for this" She mumbled "With this hand l will lift your sorrows, Your cup will never empty for l will be your wine" (Y/n) said as they put the ring on wally's hand

"Now Apple man" Cherry said "With this hand l will lift your sorrows, Your cup will never empty. For l will be...l will be..." Wally trailed off as he noticed Howdy hiding

"Go on Apple Man" Cherry said "Your cup will never empty for l will be...l will be your wine" Wally said

"He's having second thoughts..." Frank mumbled "l can't..." Wally muttered "What's wrong?" (Y/n) asked "This is wrong! l was a Groom My dreams were taken from me Well, now...Now l've stolen them from someone else" Wally told them as he put a hand on their face

"l love you, (Y/n)...But you're not mine" He said as Howdy came out of hiding "Howdy?" (Y/n) asked "Oh, how touching l always cry at weddings!" Julie said loudly as she entered the church

"Our young lovers together at last! Surely now they can live happily ever after" julie said as she walked up to Howdy, (Y/n) and Wally

"But you forgot one small little thing" julie said with a sinister smile "he's still my husband!" She yelled as she grabbed Howdy's arm "l will not leave here empty-handed!" She yelled

Julie noticed Wally and she was frozen with terror "You?" Wally asked as he noticed who julie was "Wally?" Julie asked "You!" Wally yelled

"But- But- l left you!" Julie said as she backed up still holding onto to howdy "For dead..." Wally mumbled "This man is obviously delusional! Sorry to cut things short but we must be on our way!" Julie yelled as she was about to run off with Howdy

(Y/n) grabbed Julie's arm "Take your hands off him" they demanded and julie sighed "Do l have to kill you to?" She asked as she ripped the sword out of Sally "HEY!" Sally yelled

"(Y/n) catch!" Poppy yelled as she threw a fork at (Y/n) "Really poppy?!" (Y/n) asked "Sorry! Its all i have!" Poppy said

Julie had let go of Howdy and attacked (Y/n) with the sword. Fortunately, the sword went in between the fork (Y/n) was using as a weapon.

"THIS ISN'T F!CKING FAIR MAN!" (Y/n) yelled, their voice rising in pitch and intensity.

Julie was taken aback by this sudden outburst, but she didn't let it stop her. She lunged forward with the sword, aiming for (Y/n)'s neck

(Y/n) managed to dodge as Julie ended up stabbing one of the benches. "YOUR F!CKING INSANE!" (Y/n) yelled

Julie gritted her teeth in exertion as she tried to bring the sword down again. (Y/n), however, was too quick and agile for her, dodging every attack with ease

Julie felt her anger rising and the fury within her building up with every missed strike

"(Y/n)'s Adorable." Wally mumbled as he and Howdy, along with everyone else in the church, watched "Agreed," Howdy said

The two boys stood in front of the table as Cherry was reading manga, both of the guys watching (Y/n) in front of them with a similar expression of awe and fondness

The clashing of steel filled the air as the two people engaged in combat Just as (Y/n) thought they could possibly win, but we both know that was just wishful thinking

Julie hit the fork (Y/n) used as a weapon away now leaving them defenseless Julie pointed the sword at (Y/n)'s throat, "Any last words?" she asked menacingly

Just as Julie was about to stab (Y/n) directly in the heart, there was a sickening crunch sound. Julie's eyes widened when she saw Wally standing in front of (Y/n) with the sword going through him

(Y/n) looked at Wally with wide eyes "Wals?" They asked which caught him off guard for a moment as Wally pulled the sword out and held it out to Julie. "Leave now," he demanded, his voice cold and hateful

"Touche, my dear" Julie said "Get out" Wally repeated "Oh, l'm leaving...But first a toast! To Wally! Always the Best man and never the Groom! Tell me, my dear can a heart still break once it's stopped beating?" Julie told him

"Let me at her! Let me at her!" Home yelled as all the dead got up from their seats ready to beat Julie but frank held them all back and cherry held Home back "No, don't hold me back!" Home yelled

"Wait! We must abide by their rules We are amongst the living!" Frank told them "Well said..." Julie mumbled as she grabbed the wine glass unaware of it having poison in it

She drank it and as she was leaving she froze and clutched her heart and started coughing...before she turned blue "Not anymore!" Sally exclaimed "Yep, you're right She's all yours" Frank said

the dead slowly came up towards Julie "No...No! GET AWAY FROM ME! S-STAY AWAY!" She yelled as Barnaby grabbed her arms and dragged her to the church backrooms and José threw a book at julie

"New arrival!" Sally exclaimed as the dead dragged julie away...and after a moment of silence Howdy spoke up "Oh (Y/n)...l never thought l'd see you again!" Howdy said as he hugged (Y/n)

"Wait!...l made a promise" (Y/n) said as they looked at wally "You kept your promise...You set me free Now l can do the same for you" Wally said as he left the church

(Y/n) watched him leave with a painful look "Wally wait!" They yelled and wally turned to face them "Please...don't go" (Y/n) mumbled "Why?" He asked

"Because I love you" (Y/n) told him "what?" Wally asked with wide eyes "I said I love you" (Y/n) repeated "but- I thought you loved Howdy" Wally said "i...I thought I did but..." (Y/n) mumbled

"Darling" Wally said quietly as he placed as hand on (Y/n)'s face "I love you...I really do but I cannot stay here" he whispered "Then take me with you" (Y/n) said

"I wish I could...but you have your whole life ahead dof you dear" Wally muttered "But-" he cut you off "No buts okay? I have to go But I'll be waiting for you" Wally told you

(Y/n) stared at him with tears beginning to form in the corner of tjeoe eyes "Wally we have to go now..." Cherry announced and wally sighed

He looked at them then smiled "Goodbye Darling" He said before lightly pressing his cold lips onto theirs after a moment his lips left theirs and he stared at them for a moment

"Please don't go..." (Y/n) begged "I told you Already (Y/n) you have your whole life ahead of you and I'll be waiting for you" Wally told them "But what's the point of living without you by my side?" (Y/n) asked

Wally didn't know how to answear "Please promise me I won't see you till you die from a natural cause" He said randomly "What?" They asked "Promise me (Y/n)" Wally repeated

(Y/n) sighed "I promise..." they mumbled and wally smiled at her "Your the absolute Most my dear" He told her before turning his hand in the direction of the rest of the dead and Cherry

Cherry looked as if she was going to cry "C-come on apple man" She said and wally let go of (Y/n) and walked towards the others

Cherry held her book tightly before she sighed "Has everyone said their goodbyes?" She asked and everyone had nodded "Then let's go..." She mumbled As she began to read a spell from her book

All of the dead was engulfed in beautiful blue butterflys that swarmed around them all yet when they butterfly flew away into the moonlight the dead were gone

(Y/n) had small tears coming down their face "Goodbye my Lovely Corpse Puppet" She whispered quietly

4 Years Later...

Four years had passed and the story of the dead became a fairytale people would tell their kids, (Y/n) was the only one who remembered every detail about it

They also now lived in a small cabin located in the very woods they met Wally and played with him and Cherry as Kids

Whenever they were asked "Why live so far out?" They would respond with "I Had the best times of my life there!"

It confused people but made (Y/n) smile, as they finished the dishes and put them all up after drying them (Y/n) sat outside on the porch while reading a book

(Y/n) had read the book several times but it was their favorite! It appeared on their doorstep a year after the dead incident with a whole thing about how everyone in the little dead town was doing

Sally created a play inspired by everything that happened, Frank and Eddie reunited after Eddie was hit by a stagecoach, Poppy now owned a bakery, Barnaby amd Cherry finally resolved their issues...mostly

And Wally...Wally was still upset over everything but he was slowly getting over it

(Y/n) sighed...they knew that soom they would see their beloved friends...it was only a matter of time, You see (Y/n) recently was diagnosed with Tuberculosis a year ago

And since then (Y/n) knew that one day they could die out of no where "Morning (Y/n)" Howdy said "Oh Morning Howdy" (Y/n) smiled

"I brought you your groceries" Howdy told them "Thank you Howdy but you know you don't have to do that" (Y/n) mumbled

"I'm aware but I want to since your getting weaker...you barely leave your house now" Howdy said "It's okay..." (Y/n) muttered as they slightly coughed

"See?!" Howdy said "I know...I know" (Y/n) replied "(Y/n) you could die any day now..." Howdy mumbled "Howdy please don't worry about me...just enjoy your life" (Y/n) told him

Howdy sighed "Get well soon (Y/n)" He said "Goodbye Howdy and tell your wife I said Hello" (Y/n) grinned as Howdy smiled then waved goodbye and left

(Y/n) stayed outside for a while before going back inside, it was eight o'clock at night so they decided to get some sleep

After getting ready to sleep they laied in bed and blew out the candle before closing their eyes...

And peacefully dying in their sleep as it began raining

"New arrival! New arrival!" (Y/n) heard a familiar voice exclaim as they fluttered their eyes open and then their eyes widened and they felt like crying...

(Y/n) saw all the familiar faces of their dead friends

Sally, Barnaby, Cherry, Eddie, Frank f!cking everyone stood around (Y/n), they all stared at (Y/n) in shock

They were all confused, overwhelmed yet happy to see their friend once again as Sally grabbed (Y/n) and pulled them into a tight hug as the others joined in

Normally (Y/n) would have been asking for air yet they weren't breathing and they could no longer hear or feel their heart beat

"Apple Man is going to start ugly crying again" Cherry mumbled as she released from the hug before telling the others to let go "Shall we go see him?" Cherry asked

(Y/n) grinned and nodded instantly, Cherry grabbed their wrist and began walking towards the bar with the others following closely behind

During the walk there Cherry was quiet as the others asked questions and asked how (Y/n) was "Your here early..." Cherry mumbled "Tuberculosis" (Y/n) said "Oh...that must have been painful" Sally replied

soon the group stopped in front of the bar doors "NEW ARRIVAL!" Sally screamed making sure she gained everyone's attention and I mean everyone...but that included the specific Corpse (Y/n) has been missing for the past four years

"(Y/n)? Is that you?" Poppy asked which made wally's head snap towards you and his eyes widened "(Y/n)?" He asked

"Hi wals" (Y/n) said with a small smile "(Y/N)!" Wally yelled as he ran towards them and hugged them tightly "Darling I missed you so so much! How are you?!-" Wally paused

"It's much to early to be seeing you..." he mumbled "May I ask how'd you die? And be honest or I let Cherry throw books at you" He said

"I was diagnosed with Tuberculosis a year ago" (Y/n) told him "That's horrible but goodness I'm glad your here love!" Wally exclaimed

(Y/n)'s smile grew as they hugged him back "I missed you so much my lovely Corpse puppet" they whispered "(Y/n)?" Wally asked "Yes?" (Y/n) asked back "Can...can I kiss you?" He asked and (Y/n) didn't hesitate

They grabbed his face and kissed him instantly, Wally was limp for a second but he gladly returned the kiss "Alright enough I'm going to throw up" Cherry groaned but then got smacked on the head with a newspaper by Sally

"But I don't wanna officiate the wedding!" Cherry groaned "Cherry it's either that or sit next to barnaby" Frank said "Ugh fine" Cherry muttered

Home was asleep on her shoulder as cherry sat behind the table not even reading from the correct book as she was reading Spy X Family manga

Sally sat at the organ as poppy gave her a thumbs up signaling for her to start playing, Sally began playing the 'Here comes the bride' music as Wally stood in front of the table

"I'm still going to beat them y’know" Cherry said as she continued reading her manga "I'm aware...just don't hurt them as much please" Wally told her as Cherry muttered an 'Okay'

Two skeleton children walked down the aisle throw blue rose petals onto the carpet, as they finished (Y/n) slowly walked down the aisle

They walked up to the table and stood across from Wally "Dearly something something" Cherry announced as she began reading from the actual book now

"I don't know how to read..." She mumbled "Uh whatever you know the vows and sh!t" Cherry said then went back to reading manga

Frank facepalmed as (Y/n) recited their vows then Wally did the same, Once they put the rings on the other was when Cherry looked up

"With the power vested in me which is a lot im like Thanos! I now pronounce you Apple Man and (Y/n)" Cherry told them as (Y/n) grabbed Wally and instantly kissed him

"I'm going to throw up again" Cherry said which made Sally throw a newspaper at their head "SALLY YOU HOMOSEXUAL RAT!" Cherry yelled as she got up and ran towards her

As chaos began to unfold (Y/n) looked at wally and entwined their hands together "I kept my promise" They said "I know" Wally replied

"I love you" (Y/n) mumbled "I love you too dear" Wally mumbled as well as he tightened his grip on their hand

"Aw what a cute ending....Can I throw up now?" Cherry asked....

@sketchquill...It's been an Honor NOW I CAM MAKE A WIZZARD OF OZ FANFIC [if I ever watch wizard of oz-] working on an Alt ending for Howdy though rn so :P

#welcome home #welcome home au #wally darling #wally darling x reader #corpse puppet au #fanfic #howdy pillar #julie joyful #welcome home oc #sally starlet #poppy partridge #frank frankly #eddie dear

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sketchquill · 9 months

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Obsessed w the corpse puppet au am I allowed to give corpse puppet Wally a littol kiss

Yis (*´▽`*)❀

#welcome home #ask

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redhoodieone · 3 years

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It’s Cold in Here Part 12

Hi everyone! Here is Part 12 and I hope you all enjoy! Stay safe! 😘

WARNINGS: Language and violence.

Stone cold. Ice Queen. A beautiful dead corpse is all I see when I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The midnight blue off the shoulder long formal dress I’m wearing is worth more than my apartment. The diamond belt around my waist is something I’ve never dreamt of wearing. The two slits above my thighs is something I’ve absolutely never dreamed of showing before.

I didn’t pick out the dress. Alfred had delivered it to my apartment this morning.

A hairstylist and makeup artist that Bruce had hired had come by just three hours ago to do my hair and makeup. My long hair is pinned up in a beautifully bun, and two long strands of my hair are let down, and frame my face nicely.

My makeup is natural looking. I’m grateful the lovely woman had noticed my discomfort and decided against the heavy makeup, and instead had given me natural look.

After she had left, I remained in my bathroom in a frozen, unsure state. On the counter lies a large jewelry box from Dick, with a note I hadn’t exactly looked at.

I inhale sharply and gaze down at the note.

Wear this jewelry with the new dress. You’ll look stunning. Love, Dick.

I can feel my chest ache with nerves and uncertainty. Opening the jewelry box, I’m instantly shocked to see a gorgeous diamond choker, two large diamond stud earrings, and a simple diamond and sapphire bracelet.

I don’t want to wear any of it. I already feel guilty enough to have to go to Bruce’s gala tonight. And even worse...

Accepting Dick’s marriage proposal.

I slip on the jewelry and finally look into the mirror with my head up high. I notice that I look exactly like the girls Dick used to date back then. The kind of girls I would never become.

A gold digger.

Eye candy.

Fame seeker.

I’m aware that I’m starting to slowly lose myself to Dick. After that awful night of him forcing me to do sexual acts with him, I notice he’s become more distant than I was. We haven’t even spoke since; only text messaging and having Alfred be the messenger between us.

Poor Alfred...he has absolutely no clue of what’s happening between me and Dick. I know for a fact that Dick must have lied to him. Dick must have told Alfred he’s nervous about proposing to me or something.

The thought of Dick manipulating everyone makes me wonder how far and long he’s willing to go just to save his face and reputation. Would he even manipulate Bruce?

If Bruce truly believed our “engagement” was real, then he would surely be fooled like everyone else. And then that would be very humiliating and disappointing for the detective; the so called Dark Knight.

I slip on my black high heels and force myself to head to the living room to wait for Alfred to pick me up. I mentally scold myself to get my shit together just to get through the night. But it’s obviously hard to put on a brave face when all I want to do is lie in bed and ugly cry all day and night.

No one will ever understand what is going on between me and Dick.

My best friends Artemis and Zatanna.

The Batfamily.

Justice League.

All of Gotham.

Jason.

I can feel the tears burning behind my eyes just thinking about him. Jason Todd. He was my last hope. The night I tried calling him to come help me was a failure.

He was supposed to break free from whatever Mad Hatter did to him.

He was supposed to help me figure out how to end Deathstroke’d evil bullshit.

He was supposed to save me from Dick Grayson.

Jason was supposed to be my hero.

My doorbell rings, interrupting my thoughts as well as bringing me back to the harsh reality. I grab my black clutch that holds my cell phone and surprisingly hides my knife.

Just in case...

Alfred smiles at me the second I open the door. “I must say, you are an absolute beauty tonight. I’ll have to fight off men for you, Miss Y/N. Are you ready to leave?”

“Thank you Alfred. And yes, I’m ready please,” I say, stepping out and locking up the front door before Alfred escorts me to the elevators.

I’m grateful that Alfred keeps to himself most of the time. He keeps a space between us until we reach outside; the dark gloomy sky of Gotham sends a shiver down my bare back. I immediately regret not getting my white shawl to cover my shoulders. Alfred guides me to the limo and opens the back door for me to climb in.

“Master Dick is already at the gala. He said he’ll meet us out front for the red carpet pictures.”

I want to scoff. But instead I respond as nicely as I can. “Okay, thank you.”

My cell phone rings. I quickly open my clutch and tense up when I see the unknown number.

Deathstroke.

I look at the unread text message.

You better make sure you accept his proposal, Y/N. You’ll have to see it through if you and Dick want to live.

I can feel myself choking up from just the fear of this text message. Before I could even think or really do anything, the limo stops. We’re here.

Alfred opens my door and holds a hand out for me to grab onto. “Here we are, Miss Y/N,” he says with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Alfred,” I say, with a small smile.

Alfred helps me out of the limo and as soon as he releases me, the paparazzi surround me. I’m forced to shield my eyes with a hand from what feels like a hundred cameras flashing at me. A hand grabs my wrist and I’m pulled closely to a warm, tall body. I look up and see Dick Grayson.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Dick asks, kissing my forehead, smiling down at me, pretending to be my loving concerned boyfriend.

I’m frozen from the affection but it doesn’t last long as Dick leads me inside the humongous building that’s holding Bruce’s gala.

I’m completely dazed from the million lights shining down on us when we enter the room. The ballroom is like a dream; marble flooring and exquisite art and statues surround everywhere. Men and women are dressed to the nines.

I even spot some Justice League members in disguise. Clark, Diana, Oliver, and Dinah are here and dressed so good.

I even spot Artemis with Conner and Zatanna with Tim, and even Damian, who are clearly shocked to see me here and with Dick.

I don’t blame them for being surprised as hell considering I’ve been MIA since...the last time they saw me or even spoke to me.

I frown and try to pull away from Dick’s strong grip to go speak to my friends, but he only tightens his hold on me.

My gaze shifts over to where bachelor and striking Bruce is standing in front of a tall man and blonde woman. My heart suddenly stops when I see Jason, handsome and sexy as ever in an all black suit with Isabel on his arm. He turns around and notices I’m staring at him. I expect him to glare at me or even give me a weird look since he clearly doesn’t remember me because of Mad Hatter.

But Jason doesn’t. He actually looks...confused.

I notice his dark hair is gelled but the messy spikiness is there. Possibly from running a hand through it. I automatically want to run my hand through his hair. I even want to hug him. I want to kiss him.

I want him.

I want Jason.

Dick practically drags me to the stage where he lowers his head to look me straight in the eyes.

“It’s going to happen right now. I can’t wait any longer,” Dick admits.

I swallow hard. “Okay, but could we talk about this first? Please?”

Dick shakes his head. Is he really going to ignore and pretend that this is all real? “It’s happening. I’m...I’m going to ask you to marry me. You’re going to say yes. You’re going to kiss me. And-and we’re going to live happily after. Do you understand?” he snaps, barely quiet enough for others to not hear.

My eyes glance over at Jason, who blinks a few times and looks all around himself and appears to be more aware. He turns to Isabel and he becomes angry; startling her and Bruce, and even others around them.

I look back to Dick, but I suddenly gasp in shock when I see Wally entering the gala in a suit. He stops walking as soon as he sees me and Dick closely together.

This is wrong.

I can’t say yes to Dick.

I can’t do this to Jason and Wally. This isn’t fair to them.

Wally loves Dick.

And I love Jason.

And the thought of saying yes to Dick makes me feel guilty because I don’t want to marry him.

I can’t lie.

I can’t pretend anymore.

I can’t do this.

We’ll find a way to stop Deathstroke. We’ll find a way to help Dick.

Dick stares down at me. His blue eyes are burning into mine. He looks pissed at me. He looks like he hates every single part of me. He sees me as his enemy.

But he can’t or won’t see how this is killing me.

“I...can’t. I can’t say yes and I can’t marry you,” I confess quietly. “I’m sorry.”

I notice Dick’s hand is squeezing my wrist tighter. The pain he’s causing me makes me wince and whimper in pain. His other hand is digging into his pocket and he reveals a small black jewelry box.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Jason, Bruce, and Wally approaching us with concerned looks.

Dick lowers his face closer to whisper in my ear. “You’re going to say yes to me, you fucking selfish bitch. I don’t give a shit about what you want or don’t want. You better say yes, and you better be my wife before I make your life a living nightmare,” he threatens quietly before he chuckles darkly. “Just like your past nightmare with Daddy Dearest.”

My eyes widen in horror when Dick mentions my stepfather; the man who emotionally and physically hurt me with sexual abuse. I lower my eyes to the floor. I know this has to be the final straw. Dick has crossed a line that I don’t even think he could take back or make it right.

I force myself to look back up at Dick but my attention is taken away from him and is now on the sky roof. Across the way on another building stands Deathstroke, who has his gun aimed directly at Dick’s back.

Oh my fucking God. Deathstroke is going to shoot and kill Dick!

Deathstroke knows I said no. He knows I’m not going to accept Dick’s marriage proposal. He knows I’m not going to do what he wants me to do.

I have to do something. I realize I have a choice. I know what I have to do.

And if I die, at least I die knowing I did care and love for Dick Grayson.

Even if he doesn’t love me back.

I follow my instincts that I was trained to act on. Without a second thought, I jump in front of Dick; allowing the faster-than-fuck killing bullet to pierce through my flesh at my right shoulder.

It burns. It’s making me bleed. It hurts like fuck.

I fall back onto Dick. He catches me and we crash to the floor. I can feel him sit up and gasp loudly in panic when he sees I’ve been shot and am bleeding.

“No...no!” Dick cries out. He puts his hands on the seeping wound and puts pressure on it.

Through the stinging pain, I can see everyone around us is frozen and staring in fear at the window where the bullet came from. I follow their stares and notice what they’re looking at.

Deathstroke is on the roof across the way. Everyone sees his gun is aimed right at the building. He shot me.

He waves at me and shoots his grapple gun to come straight at us.

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

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riverdale-retread · 3 years

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Riverdale S5 E2 (But this is really S4 Ep 21) (Spoilers)

After S4E17, the Riverdale viewer is forced to do two things at the same time throughout any subsquent episode. We have to take in all the many different plots with many different people, presented in and then and then and then style of serial narration, on the one hand, and on the other hand, constantly think about What is Betty thinking? From what happens in this, how she behaves and looks, Betty is simply no longer thinking about what she’s done to Archie and Veronica and Jughead. She’s just gotten over the Barchie kiss, and the singing the love song with Archie and yearning tearfully for Archie from across the way and agreeing to meet him at the Bunker to consummate Barchie and listening to that song he wrote. To say she feels no guilt is inaccurate. It just doesn’t matter anymore. She did what she had to do, and it’s done.

- We open with Archie beating the shit out of his punching bag in his bedroom, and waking up Mary in the middle of the night. He’s seen the horrible videotape reenactment of his (and Fred’s) terrible encounter with the Black Hood i.e. Hal Cooper i.e. Betty Cooper’s dad and the neighbor he grew up with his whole life. Mary is so helpless and dumb. I used to think that Mary left Fred & Archie but now I wonder if Fred just kicked her out. She’s so incompetent as a mother it’s kind of offensive. Your son is punching his punching bag so hard you wake up and when his answer to ‘What’s going on?’ is “I am still wired from prom” you answer “That’s OK.” That’s OK?? It’s not like Mary is originally from a country that doesn’t have prom - is this what she thinks teenage boys do after prom?? Why doesn’t she ask ‘What happened at prom’? Alice fucking Cooper would do this, at least. So would Penelope Blossom.

- Archie runs off into the night to wail at Fred’s gravestone, about the town finding ways to ‘degrade’ Fred even in death. Does this make Alice better than Mary? Because in times like this, Alice came to find Betty.

- Bret Weston Wallis calls Betty (and not Jughead) and says he’s in dire danger and needs help. He also calls Jughead Slughead. Bughead are sort of taking the call together, in bed. Bret needs to be sent to solitary, immediately, but he’s killed off in the night.

-“We’d be forced to tell Jughead about what you and Betty did. Or lie. Neither of those sound like good options to me. Agreed?” Why does Veronica want to spare Jughead? Is it Jughead in particular she wants to spare or is it that she wants to have a sort of total-amount-of-pain-in-the-world minimization?

- The main four and Cheryl are at school for the graduation gown pick up.

Archie is bad at lying. And pretending. In response to Archie’s understandable, “What isn’t wrong, Betty?” Betty rolls his eyes at him. Betty is good at pretending, maybe, but more truthfully, Betty doesn’t understand why Archie is being so weird. It’s not like anything’s happened. When Veronica kisses Archie, he scowls, not from distaste ( he better not be, because HOW VERY DARE) but from incomprehension as to why he’s being kissed. Archie doesn’t want to walk at graduation (the influence of Mr Honey?) and says so.

- Cheryl shouting that she must have a red gown to graduate, and then being suspiciously reasonable when Toni wants to discuss how they hadn’t been able to get together after prom. Cheryl says she has Blossom business to attend to, and then as Toni walks away, rolls her eyes, and I am not sure who that’s supposed to be for.

- Dr Curdle Jr is here! Yay! But with Bret’s corpse (boo, bye Bret). So Dr. Curdle just loves making his presentations to Jughead. He doesn’t warn Bughead at all about what they’re about to see, and when they see Bret’s mutilated corpse, Betty gives a really great baleful look at Curdle before turning away. Jughead of course engages with it right away and doesn’t look away.

- Hiram has to take a flying leap from somewhere to tackle Archie about having hurt Veronica. The way he gives Archie that extra shove as he says consequences is maybe the only time in this entire series I’ve really liked Hiram. You are a disgrace, says Hiram, and he’s saying it really like someone’s dad would, rather than a guy trying to be mafioso macho man with the gravelly grave tone, and I like this. Tom Keller runs interference, and Hiram leaves after spitting on the floor which in this second year of the global panini I am extremely grossed out by.

- Hermosa is here! Yay! She’s eating at the Diner where Veronica is in that super cute yellow uniform that says My Breasts Are Here. The song they’re playing over Veronica is “Victim of Circumstance,” and that is the Show being very mean to Veronica for no reason wtf. I love Hermosa’s accent - the way she says Veronica, says Gingerito, so delicious. Veronica is really such a hands on business owner - she takes out the trash. There she is ambushed by the Malloys, who are assholes - three of them ambush a lone tiny girl in a back alley with the biggest gun ever. Veronica is so brave, and keeps talking through her fear and really, B&V, whatever else is off about them, god they are valiant! But anyway Hermosa shoots them dead. Were they your enemies? says Hermosa, in a way that makes me really hope there are great fanfics somewhere with Hermosa + y/n.

- The Semi-Siblings discuss Bret’s death in the kitchen of the Jones-Cooper house. Charles has really insinuated himself in there - he actually dares to interrupt the Bughead Hive mind. When Jughead responds to something Betty says about “eyes” and “God Watching” with “You think it’s a coincidence?” which is their normal pattern, Charles barges in with “Betty’s instincts are good, you should trust them.” Uhhh excuse you. According to Charles all signs point to David the video store owner.

- Cheryl is holding a Blossom Maple Zoom Meeting about ceding some land to the Ukteina. One aunt in particular mimes squeezing Cheryl’s head until it pops. They don’t like this idea.

- All of Hiram’s women are planning a hostile takeover of his businesses, and Hermosa, Veronica and Hermione all in one room, talking? I don’t care that it doesn’t pass the Bechdel test, I just adore it. I love the very different flavors of feminine each woman brings, and their quiet measured way of putting a plan together.

- Bughead and Charles are at a remote cabin where David the video store owner is hanging from the rafters, dead, with an owl mask on. Charles is trying to sell the story and Betty is just shaking her head nonononono the entire time (This is such a great performance detail).

- Mary wants Archie to ask for leniency for the man who is taking a fall for his own son, the one that killed Fred. Am I a bad vindictive person? OK fine I am, but my question still stands: Why does Mary want to do this? Why doesn’t she explain to Archie what her thinking is? Why doesn’t she get Archie therapy so that he can heal to a point where he can actually forgive? Mary Andrews is the worst mother. She just sits there in her bovine placidity insisting that Archie do something, like he has to when clearly he’s not ready. I hate her.

- The Lodge sisters tell Hiram that his reign is done and he screams at them to get out and he’s back to being the gravelly voiced alpha man again talking about his fists and his gun. I love Hermosa slowly blinking her doe eyes at him as she sweetly tells her father he’s obsolete - it is fantastic beyond all reason.

- Jughead gets his acceptance from U of Iowa, and he’s still not exactly over Yale (It’s not the Ivy League and it’s in the midwest, he says) but he’s still very proud, Betty is happy, FP is over the moon, and hugs him. This is very funny but Alice just DOES NOT touch Jughead, and does not speak to Jughead (she tells FP that they should go celebrate) and almost can’t stand to look at Jughead. The camera then pans to show you that Jellybean is entirely left out of things (that was rude, people).

- Penelope is Here hooray. Wow all my favorite excellent line deliverers are here today. “They have always been a bunch of hateful bitches.” I love, nay, worship the way Penelope says this last word. Cheryl tells Penelope she wants to restart the maple business but isn’t being permitted to, and Penelope tells her that she will need an alibi while Mumsy works on it. So Cheryl takes Toni somewhere.

- Archie is struggling to write the leniency letter Mary pushed him to write. And it’s not clear if the flashback he has is him softening at the memory of that father and son weeping or if it’s regret that he didn’t kill one of them right then.

- Donna is here but not for long. She’s in the pouring rain and calls Betty from a payphone, saying she’s in danger and that all the preppies are being killed off. Betty pronounces the word ‘narcissistic psycho’ very oddly. (Why is this - Reggie’s Distributors, Jughead’s Auteur/Voyeur). And it turns out Joan really is dead and she died by being hit on the back of the head with a rock while walking through the woods. Bughead discuss this, and I got a huge kick out of Betty saying, in the most insincere way, “I hope Donna is somewhere safe.” Jughead sighs in response - again, Betty is more upset at Donna than Jughead, in the same way Jughead is more upset about the Ponytail Playmate than Betty.

Not to be that person, but Bret and Donna both get swan song dialogue, but Joan and Jonathan did not.

- Hermosa plays Veronica and persuades her not to help Hiram.

- Mr Augustine visits Archie at the gym, and says the boy confessed to the hit and run and will be charged as an adult. The dad now is pressuring Archie to write the letter for the actual killer Jeffrey. Archie points out that he wouldn’t have hit and run. Archie gets to finally, truly say what he needs to say what he wants to say on behalf of Fred.

- Jughead discovers another tape, and Jellybean filmed inside the Cooper Jones residence and appears to have gone into Bughead’s room and for good measure threatened herself. Jellybean’s not just a good filmmaker - she’s a competent actor too, pretending surprise. They all check into the Five Seasons en masse.

- Hiram is injured because he got assaulted, and Veronica delivers a really very mean-spirited speech about dogs and soiled carpets. She says things like ‘younger, stronger men’ and ‘killed on the street like a mangy dog.’ I mean this is BRUTAL. Hiram looks very very upset. Hermosa is waiting for her, looking lethal and hot.

- Nana Blossom gets to talk, yay! Every other Blossom is dead, and Nana B rubs her hands as she says, It’s just us now. And when summoned by Cheryl, Penelope comes out of the wall to announce her graduation gift.

- At the Five Seasons, Bughead are talking about the latest video, and they do the amazing Bughead Hive Mind thing, and come to the same conclusion at the same time. Jughead is excited to be going with Betty because they’ve figured it out and says “Fun times, Cooper.”

- You’re so good at identifying us, Charles says, approvingly, to Betty, but he also says Maybe I wanted to get caught. I think this is the truer statement. It’s interesting that to Charles, Betty is the half sibling that is of consequence. When he says ‘us’ is he trying to psych Betty out by including her as a person who will inevitably succumb to having the ‘serial killer gene.’ Jughead keeps saying “It took US a second” and “WE were getting too close” but Charles only has eyes for Betty. So Bret has killed David, induced Chic to kill Bret, and also killed Joan. This is Charles’ killer MO - Horrible people who hurt those that I love - and Jughead appalled sigh is eloquent.

- Hiram’s women are ditching him. Veronica is going to go to college, Hermosa is gonna run the business, and Hermione is going to be a real housewife. Oh and a terrible piece of information is delivered very lightly as if of no consequence - that Hermione gave into Hiram’s seduction because she wanted to protect Veronica. Egads. I wish Hiram had listened to this statement from Veronica: Riverdale needs a break from you.

- Mary is weeping watching the psycho tape Jellybean made and she asks an appalling question: Was that what the Black Hood did to your father? So she never asked either of them, Fred or Archie, nor used any of her work as an attorney or influence with the three sheriffs this town has had, to get a picture of exactly how her ex husband got shot in the Diner she grew up eating in. So this is... another unexpected side effect of this retread. The first time, I was horrified at Archie enacting this violence in front of his terrified mother, of destroying the tv. Her saying she was scared of him haunted me, but .... I mean wow this woman is obtuse and insensitive to the point of hatefulness. I understand Archie because I also want to bash something with a baseball bat now.

- Betty has summoned everyone back to the Cooper Jones house, and Jughead is just such a good-hearted person. He has sympathy for Alice about her fake-and-real pair of psycho sons, a woman who can’t bear to actually say Congratulations directly to him for getting into college, never mind I’m sorry Betty took your spot at Yale while you were dead.

- Jellybean is in a total Bughead blindspot, and Jughead comes to a DOOM sound effect realization that only Jellybean had access to all the information.

- Mary has summoned, of all people, Uncle Fucking Frank. And Uncle Fucking Frank’s concept of therapy is to make Archie beat the tar out of him. This is not how you let go of anger, by punching people. And then Archie cries in Uncle Fucking Frank’s arms and all I can think is, Mary is a cheap fucking bitch. She does literally everything to not have to spend money on getting Archie proper mental care.

- Jughead confronts Jellybean, with Betty bringing up the rear, and Jellybean directly answers a direct question. She’s the one making the videotapes.

- So the Andrews are at the dining room table because this is fine, and Mary looks happy, and is all smiles and I hate her. So much. Uncle Fucking Frank is going to turn himself in, which means he’s not going to die, and this makes me very unhappy.

- Jughead tells FP that it’s Jellybean making the videotapes. “I think it was a game to them. I don’t think she understands the enormity or the darkness of what she did.” I think Jughead is wrong. I think Jellybean knew exactly what she was doing. Because you could go with what Jughead says, that it was a ploy to get Jughead’s attention and keep him in town and it was all about Jellybean longing for Jughead. Sure. But you could also just as easily say this is about Jellybean hating Alice, hating Betty, wanting to get the fuck out of the Cooper-Jones house and back to Toledo or back with her Mom. She got out of Riverdale, she was dragged back and then abandoned here. She hates it here and hates everyone here. She definitely disapproves of Alice and by extension Betty. (I noticed that Betty calls it ‘our house’ to her mother, and it’s not her house, this house by rights is Jellybean’s mom’s house). The tapes were a giant Fuck You All to Riverdale, especially the North Side. Ricky, her accomplice, is the brother of Joaquin, and that kid also has every reason to want to burn the Northside down.

- Archie gives Mary the fucking letter to give amnesty to the Augustines and I really hate her and I have zero comprehension, at this point, for why she wants to do this, other than a sort of self-congratulatory emotional masturbation. It’s not that she didn’t love Fred Andrews and that she didn’t really feel heart-torn by his loss, it’s that Mary Andrews is a forgiving person. Liar. She is forcing her son to participate in her false narrative about why she doesn’t mourn Fred Andrews.

- Archie’s letter is beautiful, and eloquent, but the net effect of all this is to make me wish that the judge bring the hammer down really hard on that Augustine boy.

#mary andrews needs to burn in hell #jellybean jones knew the enormity and darkness of what she was doing #riverdale recap #riverdale episode recap

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finalfrontierpioneer · 3 years

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2020 Fic Recs

Okay, I did a fic rec list last year for 2019, and nobody asked for this, but you know what, I’m gonna do another one. Really the only thing I wanna look back on about 2020 is the fic- bc damn there were some good ones!

Same as last year, these are fics that were completed in 2020. (So no in-progress fics here)

So here goes, 20 fic recs for 2020, in no particular order! And full disclosure, these are all totally different ratings/pairings/whatever.

I tried to tag all the authors who had tumblrs, but i probably missed some, and some of them aren’t actually working but hey! the username is there!

Some stucky bc of course

Sharpened Claws by tragicama (Explicit)

Steve Rogers has a unique talent of getting himself into danger. As one of New York City’s best homicide detectives, it isn’t easy to ignore the constant call of trouble and gore. At least, that’s what he tries to tell his overprotective and brooding boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, even if he knows it might be a lie.

Bucky is dangerous, gorgeous. . .and a werewolf. As the Alpha of New York City, he is easily considered the most powerful being in the world. But when Bucky begins to lose his control over his shift, he slowly becomes aware of a bond that sends him reeling, and one he’d never thought possible.

But everything is not as it seems. After a homicide case unleashes a sequence of events that neither Steve nor Bucky are prepared for, they soon find themselves entangled with a danger that threatens to rip them apart. With the help of Steve’s partner and best friend, Sam, Bucky and Steve navigate a dark web of pack politics, masquerade balls, and a crash course in what it means to be a pack, even as a greater danger looms. And one that might succeed in ripping them apart.

These Happy Gilded Years by crinklefries @spacerenegades, nalonzoo (Teen)

Steve Rogers, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and mostly happy disposition, had lived twenty-three years in the world with very little to distress or vex him.

( Steve is wealthy and and charming, with good humor and good temper, doted upon by his mother and the highest of New York Society, with no one to ever criticize or say the word no to him. Well, other than Bucky. But he doesn't count.

He is also warm and friendly and has a talent for matchmaking. Or so he thinks. Actually, he's kind of terrible at it.

Importantly, Steve will definitely never fall in love or marry, himself. He tells everyone this, repeatedly. Well anyway, we'll see about that. )

Jane Austen's Emma, but a little gayer, set in 1890s Gilded Era New York City

Demon Seed by SucculentHyena (Mature)

[Transcript 00:11:48]

MS: You were with him the most throughout the course of events, both before and after. Your account could shed light on something we may have missed.

JB: What difference will that make?

MS: It could make all the difference. Captain Rogers’ case is unprecedented, he’s the most intact victim we’ve ever recovered-

JB: [laughing] You call that intact?

A Noble Steed by alby_mangroves @albymangroves or @artgroves, leveragehunters (Teen)

"You say the Warhorse showed up last night," Sam said in tones of profound doubt.

"Yeah," Steve replied.

"The Warhorse. The Warhorse of legend. Daelland's Warhorse."

"The same as the one on the back of the transit card, yes."

"And he appeared in your living room?"

Steve eyed the Warhorse, very large and very black and giving him a dubious look out of his strange grey eyes. "He's standing in it right now."

"Uh huh," Sam said.

"Hey, I'm not any happier about it than you are."

* * *

Steve's mom had left Daelland long before he was born, following her heart to New York, but she'd raised him on stories of its famous Warhorse. Before she died, he'd promised he'd go back and learn the country she'd come from.

That was why he was in Daelland. Not so Daelland's legendary Warhorse could appear in his living room. But planned or not that's what had happened—now Steve had to figure out what to do about it.

a hat, a horse (a Hyundai), and the will to ride by elkane @elkane, synonym4life @synonym-for-life (Explicit)

After Steve and Bucky rescue their pals from the Raft prison, they decide to dig deeper into Zemo’s involvement in the UN headquarters’ bombing which sends them on a backpacking trip across select European countries. Steve and Bucky believe this is a story about their mission. Scott Lang and Sam Wilson, who join them halfway through, believe it’s a story about their Eurotrip (and they’re probably right). This writer, however, has been waiting to tell you that the fic’s true mission is Steve and Bucky missioning towards missionary.

Follow them on their journey across Europe in tiny cars, packed subway trains and even on skis as they tumble down the Swiss Alps (in a fun way this time!), all the while reigniting untold feelings of the past through inappropriate sexual encounters and terrible communication skills.

someday at christmas (there’ll be no wars) by stevebuckiest @stevebuckyinc (not rated)

A mission on Christmas. Not even on Christmas, technically. A mission after Christmas which means he and Steve and the Howlies will be trekking through the tundra towards possible death on what used to be Bucky’s favorite day of the year. Jesus Christ.

(alternatively: bucky and steve try to make the best of a shitty situation)

the cabin by natalie_nebula (Explicit)

It felt like he… It felt like they were always so close. Everything seemed like it was under control. He remembers hearing Wanda’s voice, seeing a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. He remembers yelling something back at her, telling her to stop, to not come any closer. He remembers a bright flash, then a boom, and ringing in his ears. He remembers a black blur, and hands on his back, around his waist, then—darkness…

After the explosion in Lagos, Steve wakes up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, and all he knows is that Bucky's the one who brought him there. While Sam, Nat, and the other Avengers try to figure out what happened to their friend, Steve takes the time away to heal—both his relationship with Bucky, and with himself. My cozy, romantic, and introspective Civil War rewrite.

Every Feeling by Nestri (Explicit)

Steve completely surprises Bucky with a visit, scent thick with heat. The Alpha keeps his hands to himself until Steve makes it clear he doesn't want him to.

Halbarry!

A Speedster and a Space Cop get into a Car by ChocolateTeapots @chocolateteapotsvis (Teen)

Hal and Barry embark on their most perilous mission yet: picking Wally up from the airport.

For Halbarry Week, Day 3: First Times “And you just called me Barry, genius”

Crosswind by Cinderstrato (Explicit)

Hal had collected plenty of regrets over the years. What was the weight of one more?

Just A Mark by the_butler @the-butler-fanstuff (Mature)

“What a nerd.”

Barry had been haunted by these words all his life, seeing as they were his soulmate’s mark. It came out during puberty, just like everyone else’s, but by then he was already well on the way to being a ‘nerd’ so to speak. He wasn’t just some guy claiming to be nerd because he was into Dungeons and Dragons or anime, oh no. He was a bona fide science nerd- went to interstate science fairs and competitions even.

—————(Originally a one-shot, now continued)——————

Barry Allen was working at the forensics lab of Central City PD when it waltzes the new transfer from Coast City, Detective Hal Jordan, not just into the lab but also into his life. There’s the matter of them being soulmates- but Barry is unconvinced. Science tells him there’s a likely chance that they’re just platonic soulmates, so Hal suggests an experiment of sorts: they go on three dates, and then decide whether or not they’re just platonic, or something more.

Tired by ceelolights @ceeloilights (Gen)

Hal comes home to Barry still working late into the night.

Last but most certainly not least, Jeronica:

The long way round to heaven by Bearfacedcheek (Mature)

“This could screw everything up. Jesus why couldn’t you just, fucking not?”

“I did just fucking not Jughead,” she retorts hotly. “I’ve been not for months. No one was ever supposed to know, least of all you. So, don’t blame me for what you saw when you invaded a private moment.”

“Oh, my bad Veronica,” sarcasm, his most comfortable armour, wraps itself around his words. “Did my near-death experience compromised your privacy? I’m sorry that my spirit took an astral fucking walk out of my almost corpse and y-”

“Don’t,” she gasps. Her hand flies to her mouth and it trembles visibly as she draws it away. “Don’t say that. Jesus Jughead we almost lost you.”

sadder, badder, cooler by thefudge @thefudge (Teen)

AU. Just who is Veronica's mysterious new husband? (based on season 5 spoilers)

all i’ll ever need is you by whatacoolkid @whatacoolkid (Teen)

jughead and veronica but make it ✨christmas✨

destined to be forgotten by bothromeoandjuliet @kindnessinpain2000 (Teen)

There are plenty of broken things in Riverdale - broken families, broken trust, broken hearts - but in the middle stands the two most broken things of all, Veronica Lodge and Forsythe 'Jughead' Jones.

(Jughead and Veronica learn about the Barchie kiss - this is the aftermath)

I Really (Don’t) Know What I Want by Bella_Dahlia @bella-dahlia (Mature)

There were many potential disasters to befall an average weirdo high school student; when one had an active imagination and a love for John Hughes films, as Jughead Jones did, you sort of assumed you had foresaw the possibilities. Plus, after solving a sordid murder and joining a gang, he really thought he gone through his fair share of teenaged trauma.

Having to fake a relationship to save his best friend from dedicating his life to a mafia and getting punched repeatedly in the process definitely had not crossed his mind before now.

——————————————

Or, Jughead and Veronica don’t really know what they’ve gotten themselves into.

all the lovers with no time for me by Krewlak (Mature)

jeroncia goes to stonewall. that's it. that's the fic.

call it what you want to by an_expensive_imagination (Teen)

“First things first,” Veronica says, reaching up to slide the ever-present gray beanie off his head, “no beanies in college.”

And here’s a one off random spideypool:

Shooting For Your Heart by X_Gon_Give_It (Teen)

“In my defense, I didn’t expect you to get hurt.”

“And I didn’t expect to be run out of town, yet here we are.”

He went suddenly stiff, “Wait...you were run out of town?”

“As if you didn’t know,” Peter grumbled, but when he looked up he did a double-take at Wade's confused expression. “Almighty, you really don’t know, do you?” he snapped the drawer shut, “Well, after that little fiasco by Two-Stone Canyon, a little rumor spread that me and you were in cahoots. The rumor got some ground and it turned the whole town against me. I was run out before I could defend my case. Why'dya think I was out there the other night to begin with?”

<><><><><><>

When Peter Parker, a deputy known as Webslinger, gets accused of working with the West's deadliest outlaw he finds himself on the run from the people he once trusted. In an effort to prove his innocence, he finds himself captured by the very outlaw tarnishing his name.

#fic recs #stucky #jeronica #halbarry #2020 fic recs

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shipersanonymous · 4 years

Text

One Hit West

By: ShipersAnonymous

Chapters: 1/?

Rating: Explicit

Synopsis:

Danger at every turn, a darkness threatening to consume her, a secret she's trying to keep, a life she's trying to protect.

Iris West is the best at what she does. She knows her way around the shadows and is unstoppable with a gun. But when her old flame, Barry Allen, suddenly makes his way into her family's hit list she's forced to go against her nature to save the man she once loved. The man she still loves.

When you kill for a living, death is bound to follow where you go but how do you fight against the one thing you've been trained to do?

How do you keep yourself from being tempted by the past?

How do you protect the ones you love when the greatest danger in their lives is you?

Author's Note:

OK I'm so sorry this is so late (my time atleast) but this took a little figuring out 😅.

IT'S FINALLY HERE! My first tumblr fan fic! I'm beyond excited! Hope you all like it! Feel free to let me know what you think and share your theories!

XOXO

************ Cliffhanger Warning *************

Chapter 1

[Iris]

Bang!

The loud and familiar sound of the gun going off echoes through the abandoned warehouse and the, now, dead man’s blood splatters onto her black leather coat. She stares down at him unmoved, her face set in an expression of cold indifference. A heavy silence ensues as she simply looks into her victims cold blue eyes, a piece of her own dwindling humanity slipping out of her with every passing second. The lifeless orbs stare back at her, frozen with that special brand of fear that she’s seen on many a hit. The fear that consumes each soul at the very last second, just before she pulls her trigger. The realisation that those are the last breaths they’ll ever take, that hers are the last eyes they’ll ever see.

Satisfied that her job has been done, Iris lifts her booted foot from the corpse’s neck. The lifeless head bobs to the side and blood trickles from the bullet wound in the center like a spot of dark red paint on a fleshy canvas. She replaces her gun in its holster as she walks away from the cooling body.

“Seriously?” Eddie asks as she steps outside the abandoned building into the brisk night air. She turns her head towards him and disdainfully regards his cool stance. With his back and a foot propped against the wall and his arms casually crossed over his chest he oozes a carelessness that has become a Hitfamily trademark. She doesn’t validate his remark with the expected ‘what?’, but instead stares him down and waits for the elaboration that, she has no doubt, will follow.

“You could have put a silencer on that thing.” He explains and she simply rolls her eyes and huffs out exasperated. With a turn of her heel she begins her walk back up to her car, her unwanted partner following closely behind her.

“So that’s it? You’re just gonna ignore me? You know just cause you’re the bosses daughter Iri-”

The click of the gun engaging shuts him up and before he can blink he’s staring down the barrel of her still warm weapon.

“Listen Thawne, this was a one woman hit that I could have done in my sleep and the only reason why you’re here is cause between dealing with you and dealing with my dad you’re easier to kill. That being said…”

She steps closer to him and pulls him to her by his collar. Her gun rests beneath his raised chin and she can practically smell the fright rolling off him in tiny beads of sweat.

“… If you ever try to tell me how to do my job again, I’ll make it a point to show you just how well I know what I’m doing and the last thing you’ll see on this earth is how good I am at pulling the trigger. Incase you haven’t heard, I never miss. You get the picture?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the fearful lump forming in his throat and he nods, too afraid of saying the wrong thing and ending up like the corpse that lies bleeding in the warehouse a few feet away.

“Good. And when we’re out on a hit, it’s West. Now get out of my sight before I have to call two bodies in. I don’t need the extra paper work.” She spits shoving him away as she let’s go.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He shakes out before, scrambling to his feet and making a hasty retreat. She disengages her gun and replaces it in her holster as she tries to push down her annoyance. You’d think that with a success rate as high as hers her father would stop trying to send her out with baby sitters. Alas she’s done this tango long enough to know that there’s no use fighting with Father West. All she can hope for is a co-hitman that doesn’t actually have a thirst for blood and let’s her do her own thing. A wind blows through her tensed body, swaying her coat and ponytail synchronically in the air. A dog barks in the distance, the only sign of life in the dark and deserted place. Iris takes a moment to breathe as she feels the adrenaline begin to leave her body.

It’s time to go.

She walks the rest of the steep way up to her black car, stopping briefly to relieve herself of her stained coat and dispensing it in the trunk before stepping into the drivers seat.

With a push of the start button, the machine roars to life. Iris buckles up and takes off, speeding away in the direction of the city. One hand holds the steering wheel and the other’s fingers dance over the keypad from the monitor in the dashboard with a ritualistic ease. She calls the main office and waits for the prerecorded prompt. Instead of a robotic voice, a chime cries through the speakers, announcing that she has an incoming call.

She glances at the screen for a moment, the number is unlisted. Suspiciously she reaches up to her Bluetooth ear piece and answers.

“Hello?”

“Iris it’s me,” her brothers voice responds on the other end and an annoyance creases her brow.

“Wallace what the hell?” she demands, her eyes never leaving the road, her voice never faltering despite the nervous hammering of her heart.

“Listen you can scold me later but there’s no time for that now. You need to get to the Golden Gate Casino pronto,” the urgency in his voice is unmistakable and Iris feels herself begin to worry.

“Why?”

“Dad got a request for a hit an hour ago and you need to stop him,” he whispers.

“Wait dad’s actually going on a hit himself. Boy must be some important client,” she observes, still confused as to why her brother would send her on a literal suicide mission.

“It’s not the client that’s important, it’s the target. He has a, uh, personal score to even out.”

“Now I know you’re joking. That’s against our oath, and dad would never do that. No matter how much a person pisse-”

“It’s Barry.” Wally blurts out and the shock is enough to make her skied to a stop.

“What?” she asks feeling her lungs begin to collapse.

“The target is Barry Allen.” He clarifies.

Her skin irrupts in goosebumps at the mention of his name. It’s been so long since she last heard it said out loud, six years to be exact. A thin layer of tears gloss over her wide eyes and the sound of angered hoots is drowned out by the roar of her heart beat as memories flood her mind.

“Why Iris? Just, just tell me why? Did I do something wrong?” he begged, his voice tremulous from the effort of holding in his sobs.

“No Barry, you were perfect in every way it’s just-”

“Then why are you doing this? Don’t…” he paused, trying to find the stomach to ask what he was about to ask.

“Don’t you love me anymore?” the question came out as a whisper but Barry couldn’t bare to wait for the answer. Instead, he pulled her into his arms and she allowed herself a moment of weakness, savoring the warmth of his arms one last time.

“Don’t do this to us. Don’t- don’t do this to me.” He pleaded. She pulled away enough to look up into his saddened gaze, trying her best to hold back her own tears.

She couldn’t cry. She didn’t deserve to cry. Not with all the heartache she was no doubt causing him.

“I can’t lose you,” he begged tightening his hold on her as if he could just trap her there and keep her in his embrace forever.

“It’s for the best Barry. You, have to let me go.” She said softly though it mostly seemed like she was trying to convince herself of that.

“Iris,” he whispered her name like a cry of agony, the longing hanging from each syllable. Hurt punctuating every letter. Without thinking she kissed him, long and hard, expressing in that moment her own pain. Her own love. Her goodbye.

They broke apart and she connected her forehead to his. She kept her eyes closed but she could feel his tears dripping onto her hand like rain on a pavement.

“I love you Barry. And… a part of me knows that I always will. But I can’t be with you any longer. This- this is goodbye.” She whispered and before she gave in to her wailing heart she pushed out of his embrace and ran. She ran and never looked back. Not when he screamed out her name like he was being torn apart limb for limb the further away she got from him. Not when his footsteps no longer echoed behind her. Not when she got home and finally let herself cry. Not ever. She would never stop running. She couldn’t ever stop.

“Iris!” her brother cuts through her thoughts and she comes to, her cheeks wet with tears she thought she’d never shed again. She dabs away at them quickly and closes her eyes, shifting her mindset back to the present.

“How close is he?” Her voice was firm like a concrete wall.

“I’m not sure I had to sneak out of the office to give you the heads up but judging by the time dad left he should be there in the next 45 minutes.” He informs. Mechanically, Iris starts up the car, both her hands gripping the wheel with such force that her knuckles pale.

“I’m closer, I can make it in twenty. Get rid of your burner and be careful when you sneak back in.” She warns her foot flattening against the gass as she passes her third red light.

“I’ll be fine don’t worry. Keep me posted.” He responds.

“Wally wait!” She calls out before he hangs up.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Could you call Nissa for me? Let her know what happened and check that everything’s OK? If you can’t reach her try Jen. She usually sleeps over on weekends,” Iris asks.

“Sure thing sis. Consider it done.” He says sternly and Iris breathes a momentary sigh of relief.

“Thanks Wally,” She says softly, shedding her murderous demeanour for just a second.

“Anytime. Oh and sis?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

“Always.”

**********************************************

Iris comes to a violent stop in one of the parking slots towards the outskirts of the parking lot where no one ever parks. A brief glance at her watch tells her she has 25 minutes to get in, find him and get him out. With no time to lose she grabs her duffle bag from the trunk and squeezes into her back seat for a quick change of outfits. This will go a lot smoother if she can draw as little attention to herself as possible. Thanking her organised nature for keeping a classy yet flexible short jumpsuit in her car she slips on her heels, touches up her make up and walks towards the entrance with 15 minutes to spare. Her high ponytail sways with her hips as she clicks her way up the stairs, her senses on high alert.

To get to the gaming lounge she needs to pass through the metal detectors but the Golden Gate has been the setting for many a rendezvous with targets and clients so she barely breaks a sweat as she reaches the front of the line. Calmly, she removes the red emerald ring that rests on her ring finger, a symbol of who she is, and places it on a tray along with her clutch and her earrings. Upon seeing the ring the security guard nods his head in understanding and discreetly brushes his pass over the scanner embedded into the metal detector. It flashes green and she walks in with out a single beep. She nods back in appreciation and retrieves her belongings before stepping into a broad, red-carpeted hallway. Her pistol safely hidden in her clutch.

A clock on the wall tells her she lost five minutes in the line so she picks up her pace. As she nears the top of the stairs that will lead her down to the gambling area she forces all thoughts away from her mind and tries to prepare herself to see him again.

The only man she’s ever loved. The worst heartbreak she’s ever caused.

At the top of the stairway she scans the room, looking from any remote sign of familiarity and there, in the corner, seated at one of the roulette tables, she finds him.

For a second her heart stops and she forgets how to breathe. His back is to her but just the sight of his glistening brown-black hair, strands that once upon a lifetime she used to contently comb her fingers through, was enough to spike her nerve levels. Memories try to push their way back into her mind but she forces them down, fully aware that time is not on their side.

My side.

She scolds herself.

There is no “us”.

Taking a deep breath to compose herself she hurries down the stairs, without drawing any attention to herself, and worms her way to him. Just before she reaches him she takes a second to straighten out her outfit and plasters on her most seductive expression.

“Mind if I join you Mr. Allen?” She whispers into his ear and the chip that he had been nervously fiddling with slips from his finger, clattering on to the table.

#the flash #the gold standard #westallen #iris westallen #iris west #barry allen #barry and iris #flash fiction #flash fan #fan fiction #fanfic #fluff and angst #smutty #dangerous #dark #gruesome #heart break #secret #hitwoman

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runnfromtheak · 4 years

Text

fanfic author’s tagging game (yay!)

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

AO3 Name(s): LostandLonelyBirds aka RUNNFROMTHEAK

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let’s do two. I’m nice.

First comes from How Could It Be:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“B, what the fuck happened down here?”

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

“Nothing, just…”

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

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

“Yes. I—”

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

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

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

Kind of like Dick.

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

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

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

…..

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

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

Dick shrugs with a grin.

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

Jason snorts, and Wally glares at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dick bumps his shoulder against hers.

“Can’t I stroke both our egos?”

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

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

Wally glares, waving over the waitress.

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

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

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

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

Dick shrugs.

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

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

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

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

She flushes, making Jason frown.

Stray, of course, notices this and elbows Jason.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Roy snorts.

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

Dick bats his eyes innocently.

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

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

“I hate you. I hate you both.”

Tagging whoever sees this, I suppose?

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

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mediaeval-muse · 4 years

Text

Book Review

In Search of Scandal. By Susanne Lord. Sourcebooks, 2015.

Rating: 2/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, London Explorers #1

Summary: All of London is abuzz with the tale of Will Repton. The lone survivor of a massacre in Tibet has returned to England a hero, but the traumatized explorer has no time for glory. Another dangerous expedition awaits. Nothing will deter him from his quest, and no one will unearth his secret—until Will meets Charlotte Baker. Vivacious Charlotte Baker also has a mission—to find a man whose bold spirit matches her own. When she meets Will Repton, she immediately recognizes him as her soul mate, and she’s naively willing to turn her back on the rules of propriety to ensnare him. Will is torn between his fascination with Charlotte and his vow to finish his quest. He knows what it is to risk life and limb—but what if his most perilous adventure doesn’t lie across an ocean, but within his own lost heart?

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: graphic sexual content, poisoning, physical assault (not sexual), near miscarriage; mentions of: disemboweling, blood, violence, corpses, murder (including the murder of children)

Overview: I will admit that I felt a little uneasy going into this book. Seeing “a massacre in Tibet” in the summary gave me the impression that there could be some Orientalism (or, if not, some straight up depictions of racism), but since my favorite romance author blurbed and recommended it, I decided to give it a try anyway. I can’t speak to the book’s treatment of China and Tibet, though given the history of Victorian imperialism, it felt somewhat “accurate” here; I didn’t get the impression that the region was over-exoticized, though it was treated as a subject of curiosity and characters bring back “artifacts.” I suppose it wasn’t too bad, given the book’s setting, but I still don’t know how I feel about the whole massacre subplot. That aside, the author’s prose was well-crafted, which was impressive for a debut novel. My main reason for giving this book a middling rating, therefore, had less to do with the premise or writing craft and more to do with the characters and the romance itself. I had a hard time rooting for the main couple, and I wish Lord had spent less time forcing them into awkward situations that made for a tumultuous love story and more time exploring characterization and meaningful connection. As it stands, this book receives an average rating from me, but I would be interested to see if (and how) Lord improves in her future books.

Writing: Lord’s prose is surprisingly well-crafted for a debut novel, achieving a nice balance between description and exposition using a straight-forward style that is characteristic of many romances. While Lord’s prose is easy to read, it doesn’t lack fun flourishes, vivid imagery, and compelling figurative language, when appropriate.

I do wish, however, that Lord had been more attentive to how she crafted the scenes in her book. Many individual scenes felt like they were drawn out for no reason other than to provide Charlotte and Will with a chance to encounter one another, which is fine, except that they didn’t really build on one another to create a meaningful progression in the protagonists’ relationship. They seemed rather like a series of awkward moments, following a pattern in which they would awkwardly try to make conversation, get to a point where they were feeling comfortable around one another, do something like kiss or have a sexual encounter, and then Will would push Charlotte away, usually by insisting that he’s not good for her, that he is going on his expedition no matter what, etc. which would upset Charlotte. They would part, and Will would do something to try to make up for his behavior, and the process would start again in the next scene. It was somewhat cyclical and even frivolous at times - many of Will and Charlotte’s encounters didn’t quite end with the two developing as characters or as a couple, and I wish Lord had built her encounters on something more substantial.

On the flip side, this book was also missing scenes that could have helped with characterization. We’re told, for example, that Will has nightmares, but we’re never shown him having one until very late in the book. Having a scene earlier (not necessarily the beginning) might have helped establish why his expedition was so important to him, while also revealing something about his personality that informs his behavior in his encounters with Charlotte.

Plot: The plot of this novel basically follows Charlotte, a well-educated woman entering her third season, as she attempts to find a husband that will accept her family, and Will, a man attempting to raise money to go back to Tibet to make amends for a role he played in a violent encounter. Charlotte’s predicament in itself was very compelling; torn between wanting to be accepted by London’s upper class Society and her love for her family, she struggles to find a husband that will simultaneously make her happy but also raise the status (and thus, social security) of her brother and sister. I do wish Lord had put more emphasis on this aspect of the plot, and perhaps let it be a defining characteristic of Charlotte’s personal growth. Charlotte is torn between selfish desire and doing what she thinks she must for her loved ones, and I think there was a lot of room in there for an exploration of, say, women’s self-effacement in the name of “duty” or “responsibility,” or even more of an exploration of the hypocrisy of Society.

Will’s plot is a bit less compelling. Though we do see moments when he is meeting with potential investors to fund his second expedition into Tibet (and China, by extension), it never feels urgent. While the expedition holds a lot of personal significance for Will, so much is shrouded in mystery that it was difficult to see the stakes of going versus not going, and I personally didn’t care whether Will stayed in London or traveled abroad. I think revealing more to the reader could have helped with this, and the climax of the novel could have been less focused on revealing Will’s involvement with the massacre to the reader and more on revealing it to Charlotte.

In terms of the romantic plot, I’ll discuss that in more detail below, but I will say here that a lot of the drama felt manufactured. Every situation seemed set up to throw the main couple together, allowing them to express their physical attraction while still allowing Will to be obstinate about getting emotionally involved. I especially didn’t find the marriage of convenience compelling, nor anything that happens afterward, and I wish Lord had spent more time thinking about what the conflicts in the relationship might look like if it were built on something other than Will’s own stubbornness.

Characters: Charlotte, our heroine, is something of a social butterfly. She attracts people to her and is beloved by almost everyone, and she always has something to say to fill gaps in the conversation. While I did like that she was very agentive, pursuing her desires and doing what she wanted despite what was considered “proper,” I did think some of her more interesting characteristics were overshadowed by her obsession with Society and her single-minded pursuit of Will. Lord writes of how Charlotte reads Will’s more scientific reports by begging her brother to acquire copies from the Geographical Society, which is exclusive to men. Charlotte also meets with a group of women weekly, and Lord mentions that part of what guides their conversation is the fear of men seeing them as “too intellectual.” I honestly think Charlotte’s character could have been better served by having her thirst for exploration and knowledge denied to her by her gender competing with her desire to provide for her family by marrying well. It would have presented an interesting conflict for when Will comes along, who has traveled and seen the world, but doesn’t hold the social sway of a duke or earl.

Will, for his part, wasn’t an enjoyable character. He spends much of the book speaking gruffly to others, and when he’s not wallowing in self-loathing, he was saying things to Charlotte that were at best awkward and at worst cruel. He starts out reserved, but quickly grows possessive, and his temper could become violent. His main saving grace is that he’s attentive - he brings Charlotte the flowers she likes when all other suitors ignore her preferences, and he notices the care she puts into things like her appearance. But other than that, I did not find him likable, and my sympathy for his on account of his trauma ran out quickly.

Supporting characters were a bit more enjoyable to read. I liked the bond that Charlotte had with her brother, Wally, and wish more was done to showcase their closeness. I also liked that Charlotte’s sister, Lucy, married for love, and despite being socially shunned, their happiness seems to set the bar for what Charlotte wants in her relationship. I would have liked to see some of the main, unimportant scenes between Charlotte and Will cut and more scenes devoted to Charlotte’s relationship with her family, and perhaps even more done with Wally, whose sexuality caused the family to fall from grace in the first place. Perhaps if Wally had a subplot where he finds happiness again would have been a nice compliment to Charlotte’s arc of defying Society for the sake of her passions.

The antagonist, however, was not nearly so intriguing. Starting as one of Charlotte’s admirers, he quickly becomes over-the-top evil when rejected. I guess powerful men can be reactionary when it comes to not getting their way, especially if they’re sexist to begin with, but I just didn’t care for the conflict with the villain. I was much more intrigued by the possibilities of the protagonists’ inner conflicts.

Other: As I mentioned above, I had a hard time rooting for Charlotte and Will as a couple. Charlotte admits to imagining herself with Will before they even meet, and her reaction to him when they do come face-to-face for the first time is something like insta-love. For the majority of the book, Charlotte’s one-sided love for Will and pursuit of him despite his behavior towards her feels juvenile. It felt a lot like hero worship or a celebrity crush, and even though Charlotte says she becomes disillusioned with him and sees Will as a person, the fact that she sticks around when he’s acting like a jerk did not endear me to her or their relationship.

Will, for his part, seems to fall in love with Charlotte for no reason other than she’s pretty, and even though he’s attentive to her favorite things, I couldn’t see what Charlotte saw in him. He constantly pushes her away and says or does things to upset her, including directing his unattractive anger at her, and I was wishing that Charlotte would just cut her losses and find someone better. I think their dynamic could have worked if more focus was placed on Will’s social awkwardness rather than his self-imposed denial of romantic affection. For example, if he’s shy and awkward in Society, maybe Charlotte’s social personality draws him out of his isolation and allows him to connect with people. Maybe her influence also allows him to attract investors, and he finds himself so impressed by her abilities and support for his expedition that he finds it harder and harder to leave. Something more than the manufactured drama that makes every interaction between the two feel cyclical.

Recommendations: I would recommend this book if you’re interested in historical romance (especially set in Victorian England), 19th century exploration, botany, love triangles, and marriages of convenience.

#book reviews

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justbitthedust · 5 years

Text

Reasons to Remember

A/N: So while my WiFi was down, I was writing this on Word. I hope you enjoy >:D

Pairings: Reader x Dick Grayson/Nightwing

Warnings: Angst

Word count: 860

Things never go the way they’re supposed to, when it comes down to it. The Graysons weren’t supposed to die, Dick wasn’t supposed to go to the juvie center, Jason wasn’t supposed to die, Tim wasn’t supposed to be Robin, Damian wasn’t supposed to die, and Dick…

…wasn’t supposed to meet you.

He wasn’t supposed to report to the crime scene you were part of. He wasn’t supposed to be on duty. He wasn’t supposed to be in Blüdhaven, period.

Dick wasn’t supposed to see you. He wasn’t supposed to bond with you. He wasn’t supposed to become your friend.

He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.

But he had.

And this is fate fixing the mistake, he supposes.

Dick doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s cradling your body, tears free-falling down his face, your blood slicking his clothes; his hands; his skin, from a deep, jagged stab wound in your side.

Tonight wasn’t supposed to have gone like this. That’s all Dick can think of. You weren’t supposed to have been stabbed. Those robbers weren’t supposed to have broken in. He wasn’t supposed to not be here protecting you.

He wasn’t… He wasn’t… Dick wasn’t supposed to fail you, the same way he had Jason; the same way he had Tim; the same way he had Damian; the same way he had Roy; the same way he had Wally; the same way he had Bruce.

He wasn’t supposed to fail. He was Robin, the Boy Wonder. He is Nightwing, leader of the Outsiders.

He’s Dick Grayson, [F/n] [L/n]’s fiancé.

Dick cries silently as he rocks your still-warm body, burying his tear-streaked face in your [H/c] hair.

You’re not even dead yet. You’re still alive—still conscious.

If there’s one thing Dick can do, it’s try to make your final moments a little less grim for you, so he’s damn well going to do it.

“I love you,” he chokes out, barely hiding the sob that follows. “I love you so much [F/n].”

You lift a bloody hand in response, gently cupping his cheek, a gentle smile softening your face.

Swallowing, you manage to rasp out a few words.

“Remember… when we met?”

Dick huffs out a wet laugh, leaning his face into your touch. “How could I forget the day I met [N/n]?”

Your eyes flicker and you smile a bit wider. “Tell me.”

So he does. Dick closes his eyes as he remembers every single detail his memory allows him. Licking his lips he starts talking; detailing everything he can scrape together in his mind as he holds you tighter and leans further into your hand.

He loses himself to the memory, there, with you in his arms. He forgets why he’s remembering it.

When your hand slips off his face, and when you don’t respond when he calls your name, Dick remembers.

He remembers why he was remembering.

And it breaks him.

Dick screams into the room, his head going back against the wall. His clothes are covered in your blood, your name is burned onto his tongue, and your memory is fresh in his mind.

He remembers every laugh, every smile, every pout, every squeal, every sigh—every single sound he’s ever heard you make, he remembers.

Every touch, every look—everything and anything he can remember, he remembers with blinding and stabbing clarity.

So he has something to compare this… this lifeless corpse, in his arms to. He has something to compare this ashen-skinned, blood darkened, death-kissed body to.

What feels like hours later the cops finally show up. They try to take your body from Dick but he-he can’t; he won’t let them take you away from him for good. The minute he lets you go, he’s not getting you back again. The second he relents, you’ll be gone. The instant you’re away from him, you’re never coming back, and Dick doesn’t want to let you go.

He doesn’t want to lose you.

His brothers show up at some point as he screams at the officers to “Let her go! Stop it! Stop!”

Immediately Jason’s prying his older brother’s hands off his fiancé’s body, then caging his arms against his sides, whispering in Dick’s ear as he does.

“Dick, calm down. Dick. Listen to my voice. Listen to the words I’m saying, or so help me God I’m going to shoot you. Alfred, Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Cass. We’re all here. We’re here. We’re here, Dick. And, hey, we’re not fighting or anything like that, so that should do something right?”

Slowly Dick begins to stop resisting, instead sagging against Jason’s chest and turning to sob into his jacket as Jason continues to murmur words of reassurance.

His family all stands by the door, watching. The officers go around Dick and Jason as they inspect the scene.

Everyone, save Jason, tries to give Dick as much space as they can.

The answer as to why is simple.

He’s just lost his world.

Tags (from @nxttime): @mizmahlia @boosyboo9206 @an-all-write-life @sweetspiderboy @avengerdragoness @crazyfreckledginger @red-balistic @solis200213 @emmadevr @tomscaprisun @pythiaaa @queen-fighter @jaybird-rednerd @shirokokuro @aaren-27

#nxttime writes #my work #my writing #my fanfiction #fanfiction #Dick Grayson #Nightwing #Reader-insert #Reader x Dick Grayson #Reader x Nightwing #Dick Grayson x Reader #Nightwing x Reader #Angst #Angst Queen for a reason #Dick Grayson Angst

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dreamdragoness · 8 months

Text

Well. I did it. At the end of their dance, Stacy and Wally feel themselves drawn to each other. While part of her mind is screaming to remember Howdy, Stacy couldn't help but give her Corpse Groom her first kiss. And he gave her his, too.

There was no denying it now. She loved him. And he loved her.

Corpse Puppet AU belongs to: @sketchquill

#original character #crossover #welcome home au #corpse puppet au #corpse bride #welcome home #corpse wally #corpse groom #first kiss #love's first kiss

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insane-control-room · 5 years

Text

The Concept, Chapter Three

Lobotomy

To lose a section of one’s brain via an outdated and inhumane, and clearly murderous surgery for mental illnesses.

Several warnings, dear reader; depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation, murder, death, loss of limbs, blood, graphic description of a corpse, drowning, child loss, another attempted rape, and painful words.

Chapter One - Chapter two

He could not hold the ink vial steady.

Jittery, oh so shaky. His hands shook and trembled, and he constantly had to adjust his grip on the pen as he drew the cartoons. He tried not to scream. Every moment, every day, he tried to hold back the aching cry in his chest, clawing at his lungs.

He tried for so hard for so long, and he was so tired… so so tired… he could sleep forever… and ever… and never wake up….

He wanted to see Aramis again… he wanted to see his father again… he wanted to join them, wherever they were, he wanted to be with his family, his family that was torn away from him so quickly, so young… he was so young, and he felt so old, so tired, his bones creaking, his muscles failing, his head aching, his hands stiff and shaky, everything so ruinous and decimated. So corrupted, so disgusting.

What a waste of space.

Johan stayed as far away from the binary computer as possible, hiding in the corner of his bed as the bright, toxic, addictive green beckoned him, he hating every time he gave in to the temptation, giggling the night away as numerical dopamine filled his brain and limbs.

He would never amount to anything, only ones and zeros.

Henry filled his dreams, his, unreal, ghostlike, lips pressed to his, and Joey regretted ever allowing him to kiss him, now trapped by this reminder that they could never be together.

He drank often, now not only using the invisible drug but also the alcohol to drain away his emotions. Bertrum tried to get him to talk, Shawn tried to cheer him up (he accidentally snapped at the Irishman, guilt flooding his system, apologizing a day later), Susie offered to take him to a nice coffee shop (when was the last time he left the studio?), Grant asked if he wanted help with his math, everyone spoke quietly about him behind his back, discussing if anyone should go out and find Henry and get him to visit them, as Joey was clearly losing his grip on reality, if he ever even had one.

He was lost, confused, and more alone than ever, the loneliness of being surrounded by people you do not dare tell your problems to.

So many names flooded the desk with the computer on it, the ink machine always hungry for more souls to chip away at.

Black, black ink, swallowing him up, drowning him.

He drowned himself in his work, creating more formulas on his computer to help him do more work in less time, like the insomnia code, the two times speed code, all little bits and pieces to create the toons faster.

He hated Alice Angel.

Not really.

Hatred is when one destests something, as an eye color or a sickness, hatred is a severe aversion to something, as to the sight of blood or the mentioning of higher beings, hatred is a passionate desire to see something utterly removed, like competition or step siblings.

He did not hate Alice Angel. He felt melancholic toward her, feeling saddened and hurt.

She did nothing wrong, afterall, she could do nothing aside from what she was made to do.

It hurt to draw her.

Such a lovely character, such flow, such grace, so beautiful. Everything Henry made was so beautiful, so wonderful, such a stunning creation.

Johan knew he was losing touch with reality.

He put on a bigger and better act.

Be Joey Drew.

Be the man that would be better than you in every possible way.

Be confident, be intelligent, be suave, be smart, be cunning, and smile!

Smile.

Keep grinning, even though your smile is the most disgusting thing to darken the earth, such a pitiful and stretched smile.

Pathetic. Useless, unnecessary piece of scrapable coding.

The abuse he hissed within his own mind kept him smiling.

At least someone could tell how much of a burden he was.

Even if it was just himself.

People noticed his change in attitude, but quickly learned not to mention it.

A quiet, “Really now?” seemed more dangerous than any threat.

Were there not more workers here before?

Were there?

No one remembered that there were more workers.

Joey did not erase them.

He did not.

Please….

He did not.

He stared at the computer and the list of fired workers, fired for incompetence and lack of productivity, and he was terrified that he would delete them.

He did not want to, and he forced himself back from the thought of ever doing it.

Never. He could not give in to the addiction.

Then he realized what happened.

He no longer needed the computer to erase someone, he found that out much to his horror and abhorrence. He had been watching a worker, after doing nothing for a week, getting drunk in the public room. Johan was about to go over and fire, him, wishing to delete him instead, but not wanting to fall to the temptation, when the man was gone. Erased.

Without the computer.

Johan ran to his room, hiding from himself, shaking with disgust and terror.

He vomited. Blood, ink, and numbers spilled from his insides.

What had he done to himself?

What was he?

He shakily grabbed a knife, preparing to dig into his skin to find out what sort of demon was hiding in the body of a human, but threw away the knife as soon as the blade reached his skin.

It embedded with a crack in his mirror.

He stared at his reflection, nonchalantly noting that the knife was directly on his throat, cutting his head from his body.

It made him giggle.

Oh, what fun!

Lose one’s head?!

Fun! Magical, airy, freeing!

His giggle turned into laughter, and the laughter erupted into howls, the howls into sobs.

He dropped his head between his knees as he cried.

He felt the buzz of the drug being slipped into his system, and he jolted up violently, stumbling to the computer, trying to stop himself. He collapsed in front of the glowing device, removing the narcotic from his body.

He grounded himself.

He tangled his hair in his hands, screaming, screaming louder than he ever had, louder than when his father and later his son were killed, putting all his pain and frustrations into releasing through his mouth, screaming to say that yes, he was here, yes, he was hurting, yes, he needed help, god, please, help him! Someone, anyone, for the love of anything good, help him!

Help!

Please… help…

H-help….

Hel-

A knock on his door.

He leapt to his feet.

Who the hell?

“Mista Drew?” Wallace, Wally Franks, asked, his voice muffled and uneasy. “Are ya alright?”

Joey stumbled to the door, dropping the facade, pulling it open and miserably collapsing onto the janitor.

“Oof!” Wally staggered under his height, not his weight, as the man hardly weighed a feather, and stood, stunned, as Joey shook on him. “Well, uh… alright? You okay? Something happen?”

“Wally, you’re such a good boy,” Joey sobbed, his mind registering the fact the man he was crying on was older than him by a year. But he felt so old… so so old… so tired…. “You’re always positive, you always make everyone around so happy, especially your boyfriends, and it’s so wonderful, you’re such a good person….”

“Ya not so bad either, Mista Drew,” Wally questioningly offered, awkwardly patting his boss’ back. Joey laughed a moment before breaking down into another wave of sobs.

“Oh, shit, what are the comfort words,” Wally muttered, scrambling in his brain to look for the right thing to say. “There there?”

Another strangled laugh escaped Johan.

Wally’s eyes wandered into Johan’s apartment, and he gasped.

“Your place is a mess!”

“S’not that bad,” Joey wheezed, gripping the darker man tightly. Wally shoved him carefully back into his home, settling Joey on the couch. Joey grabbed his wrist, looking at him with an almost intoxicated expression, breathing hard. “Please… please don’t leave me alone….”

Wally pulled his hand away, eyeing the cane on the floor. He set it beside the chicano, and got to tidying the room. He was startled at the lack of food in the fridge, he was uneasy at the amount of bottles lining the shelves, but worst of all were the sticky notes of just ones and zeros. The numbers clearly meant something to Drew, whose head was currently in his hands as he trembled with silent sobs.

The room was clean after an hour. Joey sat him down, and mumbled a, “Wait here.”

He came out of his room with two hundred dollars, giving them to Wally.

“Thank you,” he quietly told the janitor, and Wally’s chest constricted as he saw the absolute sincerity in Joey’s eyes. “For everything. You’re a great worker, and such a nice person. All my wishes for you are for the best.”

“Mista Drew, ya don’t need to gi-”

Joey cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t be silly, Wally,” he huffed with a light smile. He looked so tired. “Keep the money. I don’t have anything to spend it on, anyways.”

Wally reluctantly pocketed the bills.

He tipped his cap and walked out.

“I’m outta here,” he said, shrugging and smiling, “See ya tomorrow, Mista Drew.”

Johan came to wish he never did.

The next day started normal enough, with disgusting coffee (nothing he put in it seemed to make it taste any better, so he went to his computer with a huff and reset his energy from twenty five to one hundred percent), going down to his office, and reviewing the meetings he had planned for the day.

He met with the doctor, who frowned and informed him that he lost more weight and his polio was worsening. Joey had nothing to say in response, merely hanging his head in shame at such a pathetic body. The doctor smiled and tapped him, telling him to keep his chin up.

He said he would try.

He was informed of a mecha leak in the spider ride, followed by an ink spill in the same location, and how they would have to wait a day for the ink and oil to seperate to drain it.

He had another two meetings before the one he dreaded approached.

Jonathan Derekson.

Johnny the organist.

He tried animating to calm his nerves, tried drinking some tea, tried to breathe, but nervousness clouded all his actions. He was terrified. So he straightened his jacket, adjusted his pin, and sat down, stopping his pacing.

Johnny appeared in the doorway, leaning in it. Joey’s vision blurred, his memories meshing with the present.

“Hello, Mr. Drew,” Johnny smiled, looking down at the tall man seated and pale in his office chair. “My concerns are on the organ. So if you please, I’ll join you upstairs as you are bound to use the…” his eyes landed on Joey’s cane, and his smirk grew as Joey flushed, “elevator. I’ll take the stairs.”

“Alright.” Johan forced his voice to be clear and not meek. Not unassertive. He had to be strong, no matter how much he wanted to lash out and avoid this man. He made his way out the door, waiting for Johnny to leave first. “I’ll meet you there.”

He got up achingly, pushing himself up with his cane. So slowly, little steps, his eyes drifting shut with exhaustion. How did he run out of energy so quickly? Why was he so tired? So… very… tired….

“Joey, wake up,” a hand on his arm shook him out of his stupor. Grant was gazing at him with worry. Not concern, but worry. He was already on the elevator, when had that happened? “Joey, are you alright? You look… well, putting it frankly, really unhealthy. Are you sick or something?”

Grant reached up to feel the sides of his neck, checking for a fever. Nothing.

Johan looked at him blearily.

“I’m okay, just tired,” Joey sighed, and smiled (SMILE SMILE SMILE) at Grant. “I’ll see you in a few hours Mr. Cohen. As a quick go over, things are well, I assume?”

“Yes, Mr. Drew,” Grant smiled back and nodded. His smile was so much nicer, so much more real, so much purer and cleaner than Joey’s could ever be. “Far better than if anyone else ran this business. I’m honestly shocked by how much you alone make a week! Two animations for each one of the animators’, and running this whole place on top of it! It’s rather unbelievable.”

“Anything can happen with a little belief,” Joey remarked, forcing his smile wider. Just keep believing it will all be over soon. Grant nodded. Joey wanted to ask him for help, for comfort, for something, anything to ground him. Instead, he got off the elevator, and said, “See you soon.”

He drummed his knees, his useless knees, as he waited for Johnny in the organ room.

Being slammed to the wall, a hand on his che-

Stop.

Choking on something that absolutely should not be in his mo-

STOP.

Chuckles and grunts and wood in his hands, gripping his pants in silent ple-

S T O P.

His hands slammed on the organ’s keys, panting heavily as he leaned over it, his vision pulsing. Breathe. Breathe. It was over. It would not happen again.

It would not.

There was nothing to worry about.

Nothing. At. All.

He looked at the stark white keys against his black hands.

He was not a mexican of a proper, royal, spanish descent.

No.

He always was from the lower class, his ancestors being whatever slaves were left of Mayans, one of his predecessors was a wife to a conquistador, who fell in love with her as they established an encomienda. The wars and fights!

He hated them.

He set his fingers to the keys.

His father moved them to Night Vale when Johan was two, and he loved it. The town was so warm and inviting, even though quite frightening at first.

He loved Night Vale, and hated, absolutely detested, when he had to leave.

He was seventeen.

His son was killed in his arms not two months before.

He had to get out.

He had to.

Running away was so easy. He only got shot once!

The scar on his arm from it hardly bothered him anymore, most of the bullet fragments dissolved by the toxic ink flowing in his system.

It was picking himself up that was difficult.

Other people would not have such difficulty.

Something was so wrong with him.

So very wrong.

Wrong can mean so many wonderful things! Like something inside out, like a skin that did not fit, blistering and infectious. It can also define something avvering from the truth, a liar, a facade, a faker. Being improper, out of the norm, an outlier, queer, those are all wrong things. Wrong is when one is out of order, a mess, broken down, falling apart, lost. When your morals are turned on their head. When you no longer can control yourself. That is wrong.

Johan knew he was so wrong.

Such a blight.

A curse. A ruin. Broken. Queer. Wrong. Wrong wrong wro-

An off key note drew him back to the right reality, not the one in his mangled and twisted brain.

He swallowed, replacing his long, bony, macilent hands on the keys.

He trembled.

He needed help.

He needed someone, anyone, to help him.

He was terrified to ask.

He let out a sob.

“Let me introduce you to the voices in my head….”

He did not even realize he was singing.

He could not stop.

Tears splashed from his eyes.

He yelled the verses that just came to him, lines he was certain would be written in the future.

He sobbed, hoping someone would hear him as he played and sang.

“So won't you save me from myself right now,” he asked the universes, hoping one of them would have one being that could hear his cry, how wrong he knew he was, hoping something could fix him, repair his coding, make him feel better, not feel like he was in someone else’s spot. “'Cause I feel like someone else, somehow….”

His plea died down as the last key faded.

His shoulders shook, so lost, so conflicted, hurting and aching internally and externally, mentally and physically.

Arms wrapped over his shoulders.

“It’s alright, Mr. Drew,” Johnny hummed in his ear, his voice sending horror and pain shooting through his body. Please, never call him that again, that was not who he was. Please, leave him alone, there were only two people that he would rather not have around more than Johnny. Johnny slipped on the piano bench behind him, his legs on either side of Johan’s hips. His hand pressed onto Johan’s mouth. No no no not again, please…. Johan’s vision doubled over, Johnny was in front of him but he felt him behind him, and reality was phasing into memory and memory was smudging into reality, and he could not tell which was which. He suddenly felt like a wronged animal. He had to get away. He had to escape. He jolted in an attempt, but his legs gave out. Damn polio! Damn it, damn it, damn him! Johnny chuckled, flipping their positions, pressing Joey to the piano bench. Joey whimpered, unable to fight back or scream. “Come on, it’s not like you didn’t enjoy last time.”

Johan saw red, yellow error signs swarming everything.

“I DO NOT WANT THIS!” he screamed, his voice shaking the very core of the studio. Johnny looked shocked, then angered, but Joey was too far lost, to fed up, too fatigued and ill. He tried to escape again, but Johnny was so much stronger and held him down with an enraged ease, so all Johan could do was scream. “I DID NOT ENJOY WHAT YOU DID TO ME! YOU FORCED ME TO MY KNEES, YOU MADE ME GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANTED, I DID NOT WANT IT! I DID NOT LIKE IT! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! GET OFF O-”

Johnny’s hand pushed back onto his mouth. He cried out against it, writhing and struggling.

“I’ll make you like it, this time,” Johnny snarled with a feral grin, his free hand undoing Johan’s belt, making him scream again, muffled once more. Johnny’s hand felt him up, smirking at Joey’s discomfort and clearly hated unwilling pleasure as he struggled beneath him, tears blazing out of his eyes. “You can let yourself enjoy it, or I’ll force you.”

Johan struggled against him, a banging barely audible on the door.

He tried to call for help, but Johnny hit him, grabbing him by his lapel and slamming him onto the piano bench repeatedly, knocking the wind out of him, making him gasp and writhe. Johnny covered his mouth again, hooking a hand into his pants and trying to pull them down.

Johan saw hate.

Joey forced Johnny’s hand off his mouth, punching him as hard as he could.

“Get….” he felt pain and anger and hate hate hate hate hate hate HATE welling up within him, and power burst out of every pore, “OFF!”

There was a flashing, bright light, a miniature atomic bomb, rattling the walls of every building in the city. Johan could feel the ink pulsing out of him, he could feel his code rearranging and snapping into place, he could feel hate and PAIN.

He knew it was his own pain.

It was all wrong.

He whited out.

When he came too, there was the taste of blood on his lips. It was not his blood.

He dizzily got up, his ears ringing.

He saw the feet dangling in his pulsing vision.

Oh no… oh no no no….

He looked up.

Johnny’s body dangled before him.

Johnny was pressed into the organ, nearly flattened to it, his hands splayed with his fingers hanging limply in the skin, the joints dislocated, the metal of the piping warping around each visceral limb, as though an explosion forced him into the essence of the organ. His skull was crushed, his eyes forced out of and swaying from their sockets, his jaw slack and unhinged, his tongue slack and dripping red blood and clear saliva, a dark taunting pink. His blood splayed everywhere, his blood all over Joey, his black suit stained maroon. His blood was dripping in his hair and staining on his glasses, on his once white pants, and Joey? He turned over and retched. There was nothing in his system but ink and numbers mixed with acid, and blood.

Blood, the one liquid he hated most.

He vomited again, tears dripping onto the floor, coupling with the sound of Johnny’s blood doing the same.

He could hear pounding on the door through the ringing in his ears.

“Joey! Open this door! Johnny! Open up!” Jack’s voice barked, but he sounded so far away, like he was underwater. “Damnit, someone find Wally! Or his keys, at least!”

“Help,” Johan choked out. Silence suddenly took over the bable outside. “Help me… help… oh help… please… oh god, what did I do… help….”

“Joey, open the door,” Jack demanded, but in a softer tone. A strangled noise escaped the artist. Jack huffed in exasperation. “I’m getting Sammy.”

Johan pushed himself up, leaning against the wall, forcing himself not to look at Johnny’s mangled corpse.

He inched his way to the door.

“Joey, open the door,” Sammy’s soothing voice asked. “It’s just me.”

Johan gripped the handle.

“Sammy?” he whimpered, his voice cracking and high. A low hum of acknowledgement followed. “Please don’t get mad.”

“I won’t.”

Johan shut his eyes as tight as he could, pulling open the door, his head lowered in shame.

“What did you do?” Sammy gently asked him, Joey standing directly in front of the scene, blocking it from view. The blood glistened on his suit, and Sammy, suddenly sensing the urgency and (unfortunately, he did not notice) the delicacy of the situation, looked over Johan. His eyes widened as he beheld the gore on his employer’s clothing, how disheveled the articles were on his body from the molestation, and his head snapped up to look him in the eye, seeing the tears and the distress he was in. “What did you do, Joey?”

“I… I didn’t want to,” Johan whispered, and stepped back, moving to allow Sammy to see. Agonizing pain, guilt, anger, and loss drowned him as he tried to explain. “He… he was… he wanted… I couldn’t stop him… he wouldn’t get off… I… I….”

“What the goddamn fuck,” Sammy breathed, feeling disgust well within him. A fear of the unnatural joined it, and he spun to face Johan, gesturing at Johnny’s limp form. “What did you do?! What the fuck?! You murdered him, but how the hell?! What did you do?!”

“I-I don’t know, I’m sorry!” Joey stuttered, hunching over and gripping his head as it threatened to split. “I… he was… I couldn’t let him do it again, Sammy, I! He… ARGH! I don’t! KNOW! Please, please don’t tell anyone what he was going to do….”

“Everyone knows, Joey,” he informed him calmly. Joey stared at him in horror. Sammy pointed at the ‘Recording’ sign. The bright yellow ‘ON’ was lit up, making Johan’s stomach turn. “Everyone heard what was happening.”

“Sammy, please, then help me cover this up,” he begged. Sammy shook his head. “Then keep people away while I deal with it!”

“Joey… you need some help.” Sammy firmly stated, taking his wrist. Joey yanked it away violently, his eyes wide and fearful. “Come on. I’m turning you in to professionals.”

“Sammy, no!” Joey gasped, trying not to choke on his tears. Sammy scowled and took his wrist again, more staunchly. Johan, yanked on it as the music director began pulling him out of the hall, attempting to force him to the infirmary. “Don’t you know what they would do to me!? Sammy, haven’t you heard of how awful those places are?!”

“You need to go.” Sammy insisted, turning to him with a blank expression. Johan’s heart shattered again as he took in his mask. “You’ve gone too far.”

“I won’t even make it to the institutions… Sammy, they’ll take me to court,” he whimpered, even as Sammy dragged him further, no longer planning on the infirmary, but heading straight to the police. Allison and Susie stared at the two men, Thomas joining the women, exchanging a look, then the three of them collectively making their way to the pair. “Then they’ll kill me. I’ve got a low intelligence, I’m mexican, and I’m gay, Sammy, I’ve murdered someone in self defense, but they’ll kill me….”

“Take it as a mercy, then.”

Johan snapped, feeling… feeling… feeling….

He saw the coding flash before his eyes.

Just numbers.

Move some from here to there.

Do it.

Do it, everything will be better.

Everything will be okay.

You have no choice, move the numbers, NOW.

Johan gasped as reality sank back in. His hand was on Sammy’s shoulder, and the musician….

Sammy dropped to his knees, his jaw hanging open, and his eyes wide and dull.

Suddenly, shrilly, he shrieked, his hands tugging on his hair.

“BETRAYED! ABANDONED!” he shouted, anger and hurt simmering out of his enraged and distraught voice. “LEFT TO SUFFER, LED TO SLAUGHTER!”

Johan stared at the man he turned insane. He did this. He backed up as Sammy continued his screams of loss and forsakenness.

This was how Johan was feeling.

Sammy was merely out putting the data.

A hand slammed Johan’s head against the wall.

Thomas glared at him when the sparks died down.

“What the hell did you do, Drew?!” he snapped, gesturing an arm at Sammy. “What is this black magic bullshit!?”

“Hk… hhh….” was all Johan managed to choke out, tears and blood clotting his throat. Thomas smacked him again, letting him slide down the wall, and stormed over to Allison, taking his best friend by her arm. Sadness filled Johan at the sight of Susie reaching to her beloved, everything sounding so far away as his head spun from it’s abuse. Thomas was tearing them apart… stop. Stop! “Tom… you’re hurting th’m… stop….”

Thomas rushed at him, anger blazing in his eyes.

The kick landed on Johan’s skull before he could even register he was near.

Blood and numbers splattered out of his lips.

“Don’t you fucking dare start,” Thomas hissed as he coughed and wheezed. “I’ll be back for Sammy and Wally.”

Johan only was aware of the stress levels in the room rising higher and higher, Susie and Allison gesturing toward him in distress, Thomas adamantly shaking his head, and he grasped Allison’s wrist again, pulling her away.

Johan saw the stress rise.

He was hurting them.

Tom was hurting them.

All they wanted was to be together.

“St’p,” he slurred again. Thomas did not listen, and Johan felt anger build up in him. He pushed himself up to stand against the wall. He could only hear Allison and Susie’s upset voices. “Stop!”

There was another flash of all the numbers. Without thinking, Johan pushed the glowing ones and zeros into the blinking slot, shoving back the menacing, dripping ones, the ones that reminded him all too much of a fallen angel.

Another bang.

Allison was no longer in Thomas’ grip, as he slammed back into the wall, shattering something.

She looked at her hands.

With her, at the same time, Susie looked at hers.

There were only two hands.

The amalgamated being shrieked, stumbling back over a chair, slumping into in a faint.

Johan stared.

“Heh… haha… hehehehehesssssssskkk….”

What the hell was that?

“Ha! Hahaha! Heh, hehehe-HK!”

Johan slapped a hand to his mouth.

He shook with silenced laughter.

Thomas peeled himself off the ground. A shattered halo hovered above his head, holes cut into his hands, nubs of horns on his head. A fallen angel.

He charged at Johan with a cry of anger.

Johan no longer was where he stood, standing by the fuse.

Thomas whipped around to face him, dashing toward him, Johan vanishing one moment before impact, Thomas’ eyes widening as he realized the grave mistake he had made, skidding in an attempt to stop himself from slamming down the steps. He crashed into the door at the bottom.

Johan gripped the rail to the projection booth, panting heavily, breathing harder when he realized he did not feel the air entering his system, in fact, he choked on it, doubling over and coughing on the air.

He choked on a foreign object around his neck, dragging him back and up the stairs.

He was pushed down to the floor of the projection booth, Jack’s angered visage entering his vision, and Johan blearily realized the man was using his hat to force the air out of him. One of his hands moved to pin Johan’s wrists above his head, the other going and gripping his hair as the younger man thrashed to escape.

“Enough, Mr. Drew.” Norman’s voice thudded against his head, his large hands landing firmly on his throat. “We’re putting you down.”

If Johan had access to his windpipe, he would have laughed.

Putting down.

Like an animal.

Johan kicked and writhed to get out of the two enraged older mens’ grasps, but he could not, their combined strength out weighing his futile and weakened physical state. When was the last time he ate something? Air. Focus on air. Blackness swirled over his vision, pulsing and inky.

More glowing numbers.

He resisted the urge to use them, fearing the result, knowing only more pain and anger will follow the action.

Do not. Give in.

Can not give in.

Need air.

No no no.

Do not….

Please, no….

A rending sound filled the air as his hands moved of their own accord, moving the object on his right and swapping it with the one outlined in red before him.

He gasped in air, the pressure gone.

“Oh my god! Norman!”

Johan coughed and looked up, his blood freezing in his veins.

The projectionist’s head was now the very thing he dedicated his life to, his body slumping onto Johan’s, blood spurting where the projector met his neck. Joey scrambled back onto Jack, knowing full well he was moving out of danger back into it, but he needed to get away from the corpse. A dripping caught their attention, blood slowly seeping down the wall of the booth. Johan and Jack slowly both turned to look up.

Norman’s head, with wide, empty eyes, a clenched jaw, and look of shock, sat where the projector had been. His blood drained from his decapitated head, ever so slowly.

Jack stared for a moment before letting out an uncharacteristic wordless scream, having lost his two closest friends, one to insanity and the other to whatever madness this was, grabbing Johan by his collar, lifting him and slamming him down over the rail to the orchestra below. Johan let out a strangled sob, his hands scrambling against Jack’s chest in an attempt to stop him. Johan found no opening for mercy, and so, he pulled them both over the banister, the momentum pushing them apart. Johan landed on the piano, Jack on the floor. Without thinking, the taller man stumbled up and away, Jack getting up with a shout of anger. A shadow appeared over his head. Everyone in the room looked up.

And watched the piano fall.

The sound it made almost was funny, the keys all hitting at once with a dull thud, and the sound of multiple bones being snapped and crushed discordant beneath the tones.

All the musicians in the room at once turned to face the giggling Johan.

Why was he giggling, he had not even used the drug that kept him numb, this should not be funny, nothing in this situation was funny!

All of them charged, knowing this, this thing needed to be removed as quickly and in any manner possible.

Johan felt… lost, alone, cold, comfortless, searching for something.

Thus the first wave of searchers were borne of ink and pain.

He ran out of the orchestra room, feeling nauseated and sickening.

Thomas and Sammy were arguing, the once blonde director now with ink black, dripping hair. Wally stood between his two lovers, trying to appease them, but the man turned angel was hearing none of it.

Johan watched as the wrench came crashing down on the young janitor’s arm.

He slipped away, covering his ears and trying to blot out the cries of pain and torturous emotion ripping throughout the three.

Poor Wally.

He always was a good boy.

The lost ones began appearing as he sprinted away from the music department, the other floors becoming unstable and corrupted, ink leaking from walls as he passed, walls and floors ruined.

A hand shot out from a doorway, stopping him by his mouth, dragging him into the toy department. A pale Irish face looked at him with disdain, Shawn’s entire department behind him.

“Fuck ‘im up!” Shawn roared, and Johan lost count of how many times he had been kicked, struck, smacked, slammed, punched, hit, and otherwise beaten. He was shocked none of his bones had broken. He was on the floor, his arm twisted murderously behind him, leaving him gasping and shaking. A hissing Irish voice filled is ears. “Say it.”

“Say what?” he wheezed. His head was smacked to the floor.

“Say yer sorry, ye arse!”

“I’m sorry! I am! I don’t know what happened, I don’t know what is happening, I, I… I’m sorry….”

The man shook with sobs, every motion bringing more pain.

“I don’t believe ye.”

“Please, Shawn, I swear, I don’t know how to control this!”

“‘Nuff o’ it.” Shawn barked, making Johan cry out as he pushed his arm up higher.

Bang.

There no longer was a pressure on Johan’s back, and he scrambled away, crashing into a shelf, Bendy plushies collapsing over him. He shrieked and clammored away, so sick of smiles.

An entire room of lost ones, searchers, and bloated ones looked at and regarded him solemnly.

He backed out, running, and running, until his useless, lame, pathetic, weak legs sent him sprawling down to the ground.

He curled up and cried.

He wanted to cry, at least.

He wanted to feel something, anything.

Nothing.

He stared at his hands numbly.

He knew where he could find alcohol. Shawn had alcohol. But there was no way in hell that he would go back into that room.

Grant also always had some form of it in his desk.

Joey pushed himself up, slowly stumbling down more, shaky steps going down, down, down….

He paused by the accountant’s door, knocking in case he was within.

The bottle greeted him, smashing over his head.

Wrong shoes wrong shoes no no no no no no he was not gay please do not smash the bottle over his head again, please no, you were supposed to be a good person not a beast, stop st-

The insanity transferred to Grant.

Joey slammed shut the door as cackles and howls and garbled words slipped out.

“What… what would HE SAY?! WHAT WOULD HE SAY?!”

Joey vomited again.

His own words echoed back to him for the third time that day.

He crawled to the lift.

Lacie greeted him on the lower floors, she and all the workers of Bendy Land.

This time, Johan was not just surprised none of his bones were broken, he was shocked.

The pain was unbearable, he felt his limbs beaten and torn at, he felt his clothes rip and he felt his muscles burn, he felt pain and pain and pain and pain.

Lacie grabbed him by his hair, raising an arm to punch him.

“Wait,” he croaked. “Please….”

“No,” she growled, hir fist flying to his face, and energy burst from him moments before the hit landed, and the blast rattled everything, from the games to the rides. “What the fu-”

Lost ones surrounded him once more, and there was a hollow thud as Lacie’s body landed on the animatronic she had been working on, Bertrum and hir together.

Bertrum was the only being still standing, walking delicately through the crowd of inky monster turned beings.

Bertrum stared at him, shock and terror in his eyes, replaced with sadness and sorrow.

He extended a hand to the man he saw as his nephew.

Johan stumbled onto him, shaking and sobbing onto his shoulder.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Bertrum asked him. Johan shook his head. Bertrum sighed, taking him to another room. The filled spider ride loomed over them. “Johan… go to your machine, upstairs, and undo all this mess.”

He stared at him. No one should know abo-

“Yes, the computer, dammit!” Bertrum rubbed his forehead. “I know it must be hard, but you’ve flown too close to the sun, and it’s time to reset your wings and try again.”

“You don’t know what I’m going through!” Johan yelled, tears pouring down his face. “I killed everyone! I killed Jack and Johnny and Shawn and Norman, I made Grant and Sammy go insane, I don’t even know what I did to Susie and Allison, Wally is dying and Thomas is a toon, and I don’t know what to do, I miss Henry and I’m crazy! I killed Lacie, Bertrum, your fucking spouse, I fucking killed hir, don’t you understand, I don’t know what to do!”

“Calm dow-”

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me to calm down! You should!”

Both of them were suddenly by the open top of the spider ride. Bertrum’s terrified eyes met his as he plummeted down with a splash. Johan screamed, his arm reaching down and into the inky and oiled abyss.

He struggled, Bertrum’s arm grasping his.

The ink splashed onto Johan’s bloodstained clothing, both men struggling against the slippery substance. Bertrum was the closest thing to family had since Aramis had been killed, he had grounded and stabilized him, and now he was literally slipping out between his fingers. Johan could not let more pain in. He was alone and afraid, and could not be more alone than he was, he needed some support, and he loved Bertrum. Bertrum was good and kind and protective of him. And he was his Uncle Bertie.

He had to save him, together they could fix this, Bertrum could help him fix his mess.

“Hang on,” he gasped, pulling on the older man, both striving to get him out of the ink and oil. “I’ll get you out of there!”

The world flicked again, Johan no longer feeling solid.

Bertrum slipped out of his hands.

The last thing Johan saw was his face, choking on the ink, drowning in the oil.

The green glow of the computer kept him up that night, as he re wrote everything.

And again. And again. No pattern seemed to work. Nothing he did was good.

Failure. No wonder Henry left.

Disgusting freak.

Johan stared at the numbers, and merely rewrote one line of code.

Save.

He scribbled a note.

He went downstairs, ignoring the glowing pained eyes of the lost ones.

He limped into the organ room.

Johnny’s body was gone, his entire code replaced within the organ’s.

Johan sat and played a note.

A moan of pain welled from the instrument.

“We come full circle, don’t we,” Johan hollowly laughed, enunciating each word with a note. Another groan. “Johnny… I hate this. I don’t hate you, how could I, with what I had done to you? But you… you! You wanted to me to make you moan in pleasure, but what about the pain I would go through?! Why not moan in pain, like I have!? Nightmares and terror are all you gave me! I closed my eyes and saw you in my horrors, I could not sleep, I could not eat, I cannot and will not forgive you! I will not apologize! I can’t! I can’t! You stripped from me the last shred of humanity I had, and now you, you, take the lack of humanity on yourself! I… I hope… that you can forgive me. I’m not apologizing. But I hope you can.”

Johan returned upstairs to his computer.

He picked up the note, and hesitated, but searched for the file.

His heart pounded.

Undo everything, Bertrum?

No, he will one up that.

Delete himself.

The file finished loading.

He swallowed saliva he no longer needed, and pressed delete, and felt everything change.

He felt ones and zeros ebb off of him in waves, he felt his form break, he heard the whispers and the taunts louder than ever, he saw more shadowy shapes than before, and he felt…

Error.

Pain shot through his system and he scrambled through the code.

Where did it go wrong!?

All he wanted to do was sleep forever.

Error, duplicate code, unable to delete Joey Drew.

But… he did not try to… there was no….

There was no Joey Drew.

He deleted Joey Drew.

Error, corrupted coding, cannot make changes.

What is happening?

He searched for Joey Drew.

All his coding, at first. Then branching off. Strains of Johan’s coding appeared everywhere in all sorts of small interactions, anchoring him.

Joey Drew was not Johan Ramirez anymore.

But some parts of him, the glimmers of humanity, were, and so, since Johan was deleted, the coding refused to allow him to edit the world, but since some parts of him existed in the man the only existed from his fears, he remained.

Everything reset, going black, and Johan was alone, afraid, and nonexistent.

Joey Drew woke up in an upscale apartment in the heart of Brooklyn.

Johan Ramirez hated him, the deepest kind of self-loathing.

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queenofcats17 · 5 years

Text

Submitted by Anon

You don’t have to do theese! Especially if you are overwhelmed! Just food for thought :D -Henry fell to the ground crying. What had he done? How could he have killed his only friend? Now Boris lay in the ink with thoose god awful voices. Thomas picked him up and help him to his chest. While Allison looked on.

-“Absolutely not, die” Sammy said, voice monotone. “You overreact you know that?” Joey replied with a smile.

- “THEESE ARE MY KIDS AND MY RESPONSBILTY AND DONT YOU FORGET IT DREW”

- A lullaby from Hell.

This has been sitting in my drafts for a long time. I’d almost forgotten about them. But, I think it’s about time I got to them.

Henry stood over the corpse of the creature he’d once shared a safehouse with. It would have been easier if Henry hadn’t been able to recognize him. But that thing had still been recognizable as Boris. It still looked like his friend. He almost didn’t notice as Alice charged him, furious at the fact that he’d defeated her creature. She didn’t get far before a sword was stabbed through her chest, but Henry wasn’t paying attention. He felt numb. Boris had been his friend. His only friend in this hellhole.

“Are you alright?” The woman who’d stabbed Alice asked, stepping forward. She looked like Alice, a more perfect Alice.

Allison and Tom hadn’t expected to find an untouched human in the studio. They’d heard that someone new had entered, and Alice and the Ink Demon had been particularly active, but they hadn’t thought they’d find something like Henry. Despite being thoroughly covered in ink, Henry still looked perfectly normal. He was still human.

“Are you alright?” Allison repeated, stepping toward him again.

“I killed him,” Henry said, almost choking on his words. “He was my best friend and I killed him.” Allison and Tom both looked at the corpse of Brute Boris, both wincing a bit at the sight. It was clear what Alice had done to the poor wolf.

“I’m sure he didn’t give you much choice.” Tom rumbled.

“Alice obviously did something to him.” Allison agreed. “He wasn’t your friend anymore.”

“He must have been in so much pain.” It was as though he hadn’t even heard them. Henry fell to the ground crying. What had he done? How could he have killed his only friend? Now Boris lay in the ink with those god awful voices. Allison and Tom exchanged a glance. Given Henry’s obvious mourning over Boris, it was clear which one of them should be the one to comfort him. Sighing to himself, Tom picked him up and held him to his chest. Allison looked on, sheathing her sword.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Tom patted Henry’s back. “You’re gonna be alright.” His attempt was rather awkward, but Henry seemed comforted, sobbing into Tom’s chest.

“What do we do now?” Tom whispered.

“Take him to the safehouse, I suppose.” Allison bit her lip.

“Alright.” Tom looked down at Henry. “Come on then, big guy. Let’s get you back.” Henry continued to sniffle and hiccup as they descended. Allison was honestly rather worried about the man. Neither she nor Tom knew who this man was but he was obviously not okay. Although, none of them were okay. Not really.

“Who are you?” Allison asked when they reached the safe house. Henry had been placed on one of their cots, still clinging desperately to Tom.

“M-My name’s Henry. Henry Stein.” Henry replied.

“Henry Stein?” Immediately, Tom tensed. “As in, Joey’s old partner?” Henry nodded, sniffling loudly and wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“Why did you come back?” Allison asked. He’d been long gone by the time she’d arrived at the studio, and no one had been allowed to talk about him.

“Joey sent me a letter.” Henry pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “He said he had something to show me.”

“He sent us a letter like that too.” Tom’s ears flattened against his head. Suddenly, a rumbling echoed through the studio. Allison instinctively reached for his hand. She remembered precious little about who she’d been before waking up here. But Tom made her feel safe.

Henry tensed a bit at the rumbling. The Ink Demon was probably looking for him. He didn’t want to think of that thing as Bendy. Bendy was his child, the character he’d put his heart and soul into. The creature with Bendy’s form, the one that had killed Norman, that was not his child. He just wanted to go home. He missed Linda.

“I never asked your names,” Henry said once the rumbling had stopped and they’d all calmed down. “I’m sorry.”

“This is Tom.” Allison gestured to Tom. “And, well, Tom says my name is Allison.”

“You don’t remember?” Henry asked.

“Unfortunately.” Allison smiled sadly. “There are some people who can hold on to their identity despite the ink, but I’m not one of them.”

“I’m sorry.” Just going by the names, Henry had some idea now of who his rescuers were.

“There’s no need to apologize,” Allison reassured him. “You didn’t do this.”

“Alright.” Henry pursed his lips, pulling away from Tom. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to set this right. I promise.”

“That’s a big promise,” Tom said. “You sure you can keep it?”

“I will.” Henry nodded definitively.

“Well,” Tom couldn’t help but smile a little. “I guess that means we’re a team now.”

“I look forward to working with you, Henry.” Allison smiled as well. Henry just nodded. He was going to fix this. For Boris.

Sammy was a perfectly pleasant man to be around for everyone except for Joey. Sammy did not like his boss and was absolutely not afraid to express this distaste. He thought Joey pushed them too hard and had rather unreasonable demands. He was always completely polite and courteous, of course, but Sammy’s dislike of him was more than a little upsetting to Joey. Joey had a compulsive need to be liked by everyone. It bothered him that Sammy so blatantly disliked him. And so, lately, he’d been trying to covertly butter Sammy up. Everyone noticed his attempts and weren’t shy about teasing him.

“What’s it today, boss man?” Wally snickered as Joey headed toward Sammy’s office.

“Don’t you have work to be doing, Franks?” Joey asked with a forced smile.

“I’m working,” Wally replied, putting his hands up. “See? I’m moppin’.” Joey watched him for a moment before sighing.

“Very well. If you must know, I’m going to invite Sammy to the ballet.” Joey pulled out some tickets from his coat pocket. “They’re performing Swan Lake and I thought Sammy might appreciate it. Tchaikovsky is a spectacular composer, after all.”

“Yeah, Sammy’d probably like that.” Wally nodded thoughtfully, leaning on his mop. “Still don’t think he’ll wanna go with you, though.”

“Nonsense!” Joey said brightly. “This will definitely win him over!” He’d gotten them front row tickets, right in front of the orchestra.

“Well, good luck.” Wally turned away to keep mopping, snickering to himself. Joey huffed and made his way to Sammy’s office. This time, this time it would work! He knew for a fact that Sammy had been trying to get tickets to this performance. He’d overheard him talking to Norman and Jack about it, lamenting his struggle. Sammy would definitely thank him for this!

When he arrived at Sammy’s office, he found him talking with Susie. They were going over the songs for that day, talking about specific bars that Susie was having trouble with.

“So this note is an F sharp?” Susie was saying, pointing to a note on the page.

“It is. Should I mark it?”

“No, it’s fine. I think I’ll remember in the future. I kept wondering why it didn’t sound right. I was singing an F flat.”

“Good afternoon.” Joey knocked politely on the door. “Might I have a word with you, Sammy?”

“Of course, give me a moment.” Sammy nodded to him, then looked to Susie. “Is there anything else you’re having trouble with?”

“No, that’s it. Thank you.” Susie kissed his head. “You two have a fun meeting now~” She winked at Joey before disappearing out the door. Satisfied, Sammy turned back to Joey.

“If this is about today’s songs, you’ll have to give me a little more time.” He said, folding his arms. “Susie needed some clarification about the song she’s recording today, so I took some time out to help her.”

“No no, it’s not about that.” Joey shook his head.

“Alright.” Sammy frowned slightly. “What is it?”

“I heard you’d been trying to get tickets to the production of Swan Lake at the theater, so I got us two.” Joey held up the tickets. Sammy blinked. Joey waited for some kind of response, his smile wide and hopeful.

“I’m assuming you want me to go with you,” Sammy said after a moment.

“Yes.”

“And I’m assuming this is you trying to make me like you.”

“…No.” Joey’s smile dropped a little. “….Maybe?” He could have sworn Sammy smiled. Just a little.

“Not everyone needs to like you, Joey.” He said. Joey could feel the color rising in his cheeks. He turned away, trying to hide his red face.

“I know that.” He cleared his throat.

Sammy chuckled quietly. “Alright. Fine. I’ll go to see Swan Lake with you. If it’ll get you to stop trying to desperately win my favor.”

“I am not desperately trying to win your favor!” Joey sputtered.

“Could’ve fooled me.” The corners of Sammy’s mouth twitched up in a smirk. “Anyway, when will it be?”

“Next week on Sunday,” Joey said. “It starts at 1 pm.”

“Alright.” Sammy withdrew an appointment book from his desk, penciling in the event. “Should I meet you there?”

“I’ll pick you up!” Joey suddenly brightened. “It’ll be like a date!”

“Absolutely not. Die,” Sammy said, voice monotone.

“You overreact, you know that?” Joey replied with a smile. Sammy let out a small huff, turning back to his desk.

“I have work to do.” He announced, a clear sign for Joey to leave.

“Alright, I’ll see you later~” Joey practically skipped out of the room. He’d done it! He’d gotten Sammy to like him. Sammy rolled his eyes as Joey exited. Maybe he’d been a bit harsh on Joey. The studio head did seem like he was getting better.

“He’s so weird.” He muttered. At least he was getting to see Swan Lake.

Henry had done it. He’d finally managed to find his way to the heart of the studio where he knew his old friend was waiting. He’d left the toons with Allison and Tom, along with the battered Sammy, vulnerable Susie, and rattled Norman. He entered the ink machine, following the cramped hallways until he came to where Joey was waiting. His friend was sitting on what appeared to be a throne in the middle of a small room. Around him, projectors were playing scenes from the Bendy cartoons.

“Hello, Henry.” Joey smiled and it was the same smile that Henry had always loved. The smile that had convinced him to go through with so many bad ideas. He looked the same as Henry remembered, although there were streaks of grey in his hair.

“Hello, Joey.” Henry stood in the doorway, ax at his side.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Joey stood up from his throne, smiling softly down at him. “It’s so good to see you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” Henry kept his expression closed and guarded.

“I’ve missed you, Henry.” Joey descended the throne to stand in front of Henry. He tried to reach out and hold Henry in his arms, but Henry slapped his hands away.

“I want answers, Joey.” He said. For a moment, Joey looked shocked and hurt. Then the expression faded, replaced by his showman’s smile.

“Well, alright.” He chuckled. “What do you want to know?”

“This.” Henry gestured around. “What is this? What the fuck were you thinking?” As Joey opened his mouth to answer, Henry stopped him again. “And you can stop with the voice.”

“What voice?” Joey asked, his smile growing forced.

“You know what I’m talking about, Joey.” Henry’s eyes narrowed. Joey’s smile dropped. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, the showman act gone.

“I brought our characters to life, Henry. I thought you’d be happy about that.”

“Happy? That you sacrificed our friends and employees to make your little plan work?” Henry asked, feeling his temper beginning to rise. “That you traumatized my children?”

“Our children.” Joey corrected him with a small smirk. “We’re a team, aren’t we?”

“I meant what I said,” Henry replied coolly. “I created them, I put the work into them. You just stepped in and took credit for them when all the hard work was over. Just like you always do.”

“That’s pretty rude, Henry. I thought we were friends.” Joey was smiling again, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. They remained cold and detached, staring into Henry’s soul.

“I did too. Until you stole credit for all my ideas.”

“We needed to get exposure,” Joey said. “No one was going to listen to a pitch from you. You never liked speaking in front of crowds anyway.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Besides, what matters is that I got them into the public eye! I made them household names!”

“I made them.” Henry’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “They’re my children. You don’t even care about them. You just want to use them.”

“They’re just characters, Henry.” Joey sighed and clicked his tongue as though he was talking to a particularly slow child.

“They’re not just characters!” Henry snapped. “Not to me, not to Susie, not to anyone who actually cares about them! They’re so much more than that!”

“Henry-” Joey tried to back up to remedy his mistake, but it was too late now.

“THESE ARE MY KIDS AND MY RESPONSIBILITY AND DON’T YOU FORGET IT DREW!” Henry took a step forward, jabbing his finger into Joey’s chest. It was clear that whatever Joey had been hoping to achieve, it wasn’t going to happen. He’d crossed a line, and there was no going back now.

Something was wrong. Sammy wasn’t sure where he was. He was laying down, his head in someone’s lap. Something…Something had happened. Someone had hurt him. He’d been betrayed and abandoned. Anger rose in his chest and he tried to get up. But someone gently guided him back down.

“My dear, sweet prophet, where do you think you’re going?” A woman’s voice graced his ears. Her voice was like silk, sliding softly across his mind.

“An angel…” He mumbled, his words slurred and muffled. The woman giggled.

“Why yes, I am an angel.” She said. “I’m Alice Angel~” Alice Angel…Yes, he knew that name. But this didn’t seem right. This voice…it wasn’t Alice Angel…He knew this voice.

“Susie…?” The name came unbidden to his lips.

“No!” He instinctively covered his ears at her shriek.

“No.” She repeated, softer this time, her voice shaking. “No, I’m Alice Angel. I’m Alice Angel.” She took a deep, shaking breath.

“Why don’t you let your angel sing to you, my dear?” She started to stroke his hair. His hair? For a moment, he was confused. Wait, why had he thought he didn’t have hair?

“Yes, please.” He curled up, allowing her to continue to stroke his hair.

“Come little children, I’ll take thee away, into a land of enchantment.” She began to sing, her voice soothing Sammy. “Come little children, the time’s come to play. Here in my garden of shadows. Follow sweet children, I’ll show thee the way. Through all the pain and the sorrow. Weep not poor children, for life is this way. Murdering beauty and passions.”

As she continued, Sammy found himself drifting deeper and deeper into sleep. Nothing mattered but her voice. He was safe with her. He would always be safe with her. His Lord was no longer worthy of his praise. The Angel was his savior now.

Alice smiled to herself. It appeared Sammy would be useful to her after all. Kissing Sammy’s head, she continued to sing. She was going to like having a prophet, especially now that he resembled his human self a bit more. Yes, she was going to like this.

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfiction #submission #henry stein #allison angel #tom boris #sammy lawrence #joey drew #wally franks #malice angel #susie campbell #alice angel

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electricbluetempest · 5 years

Text

An Experiment Gone Wrong - 3

The last bit feat. LOTS OF PAIN

Sally tried to back up, but got cornered as the Devil walked towards her with the gun pointed at her face.

“Any last words?”

Sally looked around, noticing that the desk lamp was floating towards the direction the Devil’s facing.

“Desk lamp!” Sally shouted.

The desk lamp landed on the Devil’s head, making him unconscious as Sally runs out of the Devil’s grip.

Sally ran away as the bee cop cuffed the Devil. She met him outside not long after, him dragging the unconscious Devil to the police station.

“We caught him...” She panted.

Sally let the bee cop do his work as she left for the church again. The bodies had been taken away in preparation to be buried, but she hoped their spirits would still be around. The sun was coming down, and she sat in a pew, exhausted from today.

“Werner? Alfred? You guys there?”

There was no sign of any paranormal activity. Sally sighed to call out their names again.

"Werner? Alfred? You still here, we found the culprit."

Nothing happened again. Sally stood up, knowing that their spirits are gone. The church lights opened as Sally turned her back to find a big casket being carried by a group of men. The lady ran up to find both Dr. Kahl and Werner inside the same casket. The men placed the casket on a stand on the church stage, Sally stayed there to look at the corpse.

“Oh...that’s right. The funeral is tomorrow morning.” Sally remembered. She had gotten wrapped up in the quest to bring them to justice that she’d almost forgotten about it.

It seemed like the ghosts weren’t going to appear tonight, so Sally made the decision to leave the church. But before she did, she positioned Kahl and Werner so that they were holding each other’s hands.

The ghosts appeared just as she left, completely missing their chance to see her. The two of them decided to inspect their bodies in the double casket.

“Goodness, does my head wound look that big?” Kahl asked.

“Alfred, mine looks bigger.” Werner inspected.

“I look like I overslept.” Kahl giggled.

“So do I!”

The two men continue to laugh and talk until they noticed something inside. “Look at our hands, Wern.”

Kahl pointed to the bodies. Wern closely inspected to find his corpse’s hand on his husband’s hand, Kahl’s body did the same.

“Do you get what this means?”

“Könnte sein, vat does it mean?”

“It means they want us to be together, Wern. Even though we were killed just before I finish my vow.”

Werner repeatedly blink and quivered his mouth, looking at the bodies again. Noticing both hands have their wedding bands on them. “Zat vas very sweet of zhem.”

The funeral had two extra guests hiding up above the rest of the crowd where nobody else could see. The ghosts of Kahl and Werner were curious to see what people had to say about them, and who would show up.

The church was filled with Inkwell residents, some they knew well but others they didn’t know who had heard of the tragedy and wanted to pay respects. All of the windows on one side of the church were open for the robot to view from outside. The organist finished playing, and the first person to deliver a eulogy took the stand.

The ghosts sat of the front empty pew, listening to what Sally’s going to say.

“Werner and Alfred were supposed to be a happy, loving, and joyful couple. However, that didn’t happen. Both of them were shot on the head by one of the Devil’s minions. I wanna give my respect to both of my friends. Werner, my childhood friend, he was someone I’d talk to whenever I feel upset. Alfred on the other hand, was just someone I met last year. Werner introduced him to me, I was happy to have another friend. For now, I’ll let the two rest and be together in a better place.”

Sally left the podium. “Is there someone else who wants to talk?” Bon Bon stood up.

Sally went back to her seat as the baroness went up to the podium. Little did Sally know that Werner and Kahl were sitting next to her, hearing what people were gonna say about them.

“Zat vas very sweet, Sally” Werner patted her shoulder, although she can’t hear or feel him.

Bon Bon took her place at the pedestal.

“I didn’t know Werner very well, aside from that he made Dr. Kahl a very happy man. But I did know Dr. Kahl. I knew him since I was little, and was always welcomed into his workshop and helped his son feel welcome in this world. Growing up in a family that was mostly composed of people groveling at my feet because of my status as Baroness, going to his run-down factory to visit him and the robot felt more...down to earth. It was like having a secret second family who loved me because I was a curious little kid who wanted to learn. And Alfred Kahl was always willing to teach.”

Kahl clutched his hands over his chest.

“That’s so sweet of her...”

“The world lost not just a brilliant mind, but a brilliant person. And I hope that wherever he is, he knows we love and miss him.”

Each eulogy the residents gave made both Werner and Kahl emotional, both knowing how people think of them.

Werner's stomach started to rumble. "Alfred, I'm hungry."

"There's food at the back. Let me lead you there."

The two men sneaked, even though no one can see them, got the table to find a variety of food on the table.

The two started to gobble up the food from the table. Wally Jr. who was sitting near the table, can see the food floating in mid air.

"Dad..." He shook his father's wing. "The food is floating!"

“Son, don’t make a scene.” Wally scolded before noticing the same thing Junior did. “...What on earth?”

The other guests began to notice one by one as well. Soon everyone was staring in the direction of the ghosts, unsure how to react or process this.

“...Alfred? I zhink we’ve been caught.”

“Well then. Should we appear?”

"Maybe not."

The ghosts slowly brought down the food back on the plates. As they were placing going back to their seat, they started to turn bluish and translucent.

"Wern, why are you appearing?"

"I don't know, vhy are you appearing?"

The two men continued, not knowing that the guest were watching them.

The two ghosts were now completely visible to all the guests, staring at them in wide-eyed silent shock. Nobody knew what to say or how to react, until Werner decided to break the silence.

“Danke shoen, everyone. Ve vatched ze whole funeral. You all had very kind words to say, and ve appreciate it.”

Sally stepped forwards tentatively, a soft smile on her face. “They caught the guy who did it. The Devil sent a hitman to...”

A lump caught in her throat and her bottom lip began to quiver. Werner consoled her, hugging her even though she couldn’t feel it.

"Oh Werner, I missed you! I was looking for your spirits yesterday, but you guys didn't show up."

"Ve usually show up after 6 or somezhing, but I'm glad to see you again."

Sally wiped her tears as she lets go of Werner. "I'm actually surprised that you guys actually showed up on your own funeral. As a ghost, of course."

"We have one more eulogy before we finish." The two ghosts went up to the podium, with Kahl going first.

Kahl’s ghost cleared his throat.“Werner Werman was an incredible man, and though his life was rough for several years, he never let that bring down his spirits. Most of you may know him as a war veteran or a skilled mechanical engineer, but I knew him first as a friend, then something more.”

Werner was giving Kahl a tear-filled smile as he spoke.

“He was a compassionate man who refused to be defined by his hard life, or be jaded by it. My fiancé may be gone, but I know he’s in a better place. Because he never really left.” Kahl stepped down to let Werner take the podium next.

Werner stepped over to the podium, taking a view breaths of anticipation before starting his speech. “Dr. Alfred Kahl vas a brilliant man. His life vas somezhing extraordinary. He built a robot vith a soul, he made people happy, vhen ve bumped into each other, he made me happy zat I found someone to be vith. Ve vere friends at first, but as ze months passed, ve became more zhan just friends.”

Kahl smiled, eyes starting to water.

“He vas someone zat vill alvays talk to you. I know my fiancé is gone, but like vat Alfred said, he never left because I’m vith him.”

Werner stepped down from the podium to hug his ghost husband. The guests started praising and clapping.

“But are we legally husbands? I haven’t even finished my vow. Where’s the pastor? He hasn’t announced us man and husband yet.”

The pastor was among the guests at the funeral, standing up to give an officiation for the ghosts. He could see that the wedding bands Sally had put on them earlier were still on their ghostly fingers. He decided to skip most of the speech and go directly to the part the men had been waiting to hear.

“Do you, Alfred, take Werner to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, ‘til death ‘til you part?”

“We aren’t going to part, even in death. But yes. I do.”

“And do you, Werner Werman, take Alfred to have and to hold, as long as you both after-live?”

“I do.”

“Then I now pronounce you man and husband. You may now kiss the groom.”

Kahl leaned in to his husband again. Everyone started to celebrate just like it’s a wedding. The robot blew a small popper from outside. The two men pulled over, hugging afterwards.

“Alfred, I love you. Even if death tried to take us apart.”

For some reason, Kahl and Werner’s corpses slowly started to smile. Could this be some spiritual connection to their late-marriage?

“Alfred, look!” Werner pointed at the casket.

“...How is that possible?” Kahl asked.

“I don’t know, but I think it’s a sign.”

“You know, you may be right. We’ve been officially married and we’ve been avenged so maybe this means...?”

The two men held hands as they started to glow a little brighter. “Ve can finally be at peace.”

They started to glow brighter until they were both bright white haloed silhouettes. The guests couldn’t tell if they kissed or not, their faces moved closer to each other as they were glowing their brightest. But as soon as their faces touched, there was a bright flash that blinded the whole church for a moment then vanished.

Sally felt a little bit of bittersweet relief. The men were finally free of this world and gone to a better place beyond the mortal realm, but that meant they were gone forever.

“...We’ll miss you.”

#an experiment gone wrong #apparently we like writing funerals

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