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breaniebree · 1 year

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Still not sure when it will be posted but hopefully by the end of March!

Here's a sneak peek to show you what I have planned...

Chapter One of Third Time's the Charm

The One With A Second Chance

Queen blared from the speakers as Sirius hummed along with the beat of Radio Gaga. He smiled as James began to hum under his breath next to him, shaking his hips to the beat. When he started to move his head and fist pump the air as he quite frankly, jammed out, Sirius stifled a laugh. When he began to sing along, Sirius couldn’t help but smile at his friend. He wiggled his own hips along, knocking them against James’ as they grinned widely at each other.

By the time the second verse started, James was singing loudly and powerfully, his smooth voice echoing in the workshop around them.

“Let’s hope you never leave, old friend. Like all good things, on you we depend. So stick around, ‘cause we might miss you, when we grow tired, of all this visual. You had your time, you had the power! You’ve yet to have your finest hour, radio! Radio!” James sang.

When he caught Sirius’ eye, he grabbed the wrench like a microphone and began to really sing as he clapped his hands together.

“All we hear is radio ga ga! Radio goo goo! Radio ga ga! Sing it, mate! All we hear is radio ga ga! Radio goo goo! Radio ga ga! All we hear is radio ga ga! Radio blah blah! Radio, what’s new? Some-one still loves you!”

Sirius snorted. “Do they now?”

James shrugged. “Well, I mean, there has to be at least one person who loves you, Padfoot. No one I know, obviously…”

“Piss off,” Sirius said, biting back a laugh.

James reached a hand up to scratch his cheek and spread engine grease all over his face.

Sirius shook his head. “You’re hopeless, Prongs.”

James attempted to wipe it off, but instead only smeared it even worse. “I don’t even understand how this shit gets everywhere!” When he only succeeded in blackening himself more, he pouted. “Help me!” he whined.

Sirius chuckled and reached for a cloth, moving to stand in front of his best mate and brother to scrub his face clean. “There. Hopeless.”

“I’m not hopeless, I’m just not good with the whole machine thing. That’s a wheel, right?”

“Smart arse,” Sirius said, throwing the towel at him. “If you can’t honour the bike, get out of the workshop.”

James chuckled. “That’s the moto-so-che bonneville harley, right?”

“I hate you.”

James grinned and passed his friend the wrench. “Love you, too, brother.”

Marauder barked and ran in a circle around James as Lady Godiva merely lifted her head to watch the dog, looking very unimpressed with Marauder’s antics.

They both looked up when someone came to the door and Fleamont stood there, a smile on his face.

“Boys, getting up to trouble out here?”

“Never, Dad,” James said.

He chuckled. “That’s what I thought. Why don’t you come inside? Fee and Lily have prepared a picnic for lunch. Misha is joining us.”

“I hope Fee and the house elves made it,” Sirius said. “If it was Evans, I might not want to risk it.”

“I heard that Sirius Black!” Lily exclaimed, coming up behind Fleamont. “That was one time and I was pregnant with your godson!”

“So you say,” he teased. “I just remember you trying to poison me and Prongs forcing Moony and I to eat it.”

Lily shook her head in amusement before she moved towards Sirius to kiss his cheek. She took James’ hand in hers. “Well, come risk it if you dare. Misha wants to talk to you anyway.”

James tugged on her hand to pull her up against him so that he could kiss his wife deeply. “I love you, Lily.”

“I love you, too,” she said, grinning up at him with her heart in her eyes.

They kissed again and Sirius turned back towards his motorbike to give his friends a moment of privacy.

“I’ll meet you out there in a minute. I just want to finish something first and you two can get the snogging out of your system in the meantime.”

“Never!” James scoffed. “Have you seen these lips? They are the most perfect lips ever made!”

Lily squeezed her husband’s hand. “The sad part is that he’s talking about his own lips. Don’t be too long, Padfoot.”

James squeezed Sirius’ shoulder before wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist and leading her away from the bike. Fleamont put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Don’t be too long, son. You know Fee will want to feed you.”

Sirius nodded. “I won’t, Monty. Save me some of that treacle tart before Jamie eats it all.”

Fleamont chuckled. “No promises.”

Sirius grinned as he turned back to the bike. He picked up the wrench, humming along to “Radio Gaga” as the music seemed to grow louder, rumbling in in his ears like the wireless was moving closer and closer to him. Then, something flashed at his right. He turned, his eyebrow furrowed in confusion as music blared in his ears. He smelt her soap before he saw her and when she flashed again, covered in blood, his eyes widened.

“Zee! What…?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice echoing as the music stopped around him. “I tried to stop them.”

Sirius reached for her, but just as he touched her, his hand passed right through her. Before he could contemplate the vision before him, something punched him right in the chest. It hit him so hard that all of the breath was knocked out of him. He felt like his chest was caved in and that every rib was broken and stabbing him somewhere different. He gasped for breath, his eyes on Zee flashing in and out before him.

“Zee? Zee, where are you?” he demanded, but she flashed again and vanished before his eyes.

“Sirius?” Euphemia asked from the doorway. “Are you coming?”

“Fee…” he whispered, blood bubbling at his mouth.

“Sirius?” she called out, seeming to stare right through him. “Darling, are you in here?”

Euphemia stepped right past him as if she couldn’t see him. Sirius started to speak, unsuccessfully attempting to reach for her when suddenly, hands sprung out from the ground and tightly gripped him by his ankles. He tried to shake them off, ventured to jump away, but the grip was too strong. He reached for Euphemia again, his eyes wide before the hands around his ankles yanked. His boots sank into the ground like quicksand and he was abruptly pulled into the earth. The scream tore through him so loudly that it scorched his throat and Zee’s terrified face flashed before him.

“Zahira!” he cried out. “Zahira!”

He was dragged through the mud; falling and rising like he was clawing his way to the surface, but the surface of what he didn’t know. He swallowed the earth; dirt in his eyes, in his nose, in his mouth. He could hear voices calling him and then there was nothing but the earth and the pain in his chest.

Pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Sharp, searing pain that made him taste his own blood.

Pain like something was being ripped apart inside of him, something that he tried desperately to hold onto to, but no matter how hard he fought, the more it ripped and tore free.

And then there was only blackness.

~ TTTC ~

#welcome to breanie's world of asc the kismet trilogy #third time's the charm #the kismet trilogy part three third time's the charm by breanie #sneak peek tttc #still don't know when I'm posting #harry potter fanfiction #breanie

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phoenixcatch7 · 7 months

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Kintsukuroi

'What if I put a clock pendulum in my torso' was the sort of question Bruce had come to expect when visiting Oracle.

"Pendulums are dependant on a stable base," he replied, because the last time he'd assumed they were being unserious Tim had tried to fit a chemistry test lab in his mouth and accidentally leaked the fumes through his mask.

"It'd be so aesthetic though," said Barbara, not looking up from the dozen screens she was surrounded by. "Listen. It would look so cool - Spoiler, robbery on fifth and main - Especially if I put a clock face over my heart."

"I thought you were trying to fit a super computer in it?"

"I was, but progress is slow. It's hard to fit it and enough padding to protect it plus leave enough room for ventilation. If I add the pendulum I might at least get inspiration." She gave a heavy sigh and pushed away from the desk, gliding in her chair to where her doll body was resting on a table, the glue separating the two halves of the smashed torso still glistening. Bruce followed, peering over her at the many scanners and wires hooked into it, flashing and beeping.

"Any luck?" he asked, and they both knew he wasn't talking about the computer anymore.

"Nothing."

He squeezed her shoulder, and she leant into it. They stayed there for a long moment.

"I just don't understand!" Barbara finally burst out, hands clenching on her chair arms. "I glued nearly every single piece back together! I made sure every splinter I could find went exactly where it should! I know the contract is still there. She's worked with more missing pieces before. But she's just not responding!"

"It's not you," Bruce soothed. "You've more than enough determination and strength to puppet, and we know the human body's state doesn't affect performance."

"That's the thing!" Barbara threw her hands up angrily, nearly smacking Bruce in the face. There was a chatter over comms, and both reached for their own. "One second," she said tightly, and wheeled back into the glow of the monitors. "Copy. BW, you're nearest? Thanks. Try and avoid the sniper this time. Wing, backup is in five."

She muted again and spun around, pinning Bruce with a heavy stare. "Is there anything, anything you can think of? We've - nothing I've tried has worked."

"Well...." He trailed off, one hand coming up to rub at the chin of his mask - a quiet night meant the opportunity to forgo the practical but muffling gas mask for his favoured plain black.

It was far from the first time a doll had been horrifically damaged. The incident with Bane came to mind - Batman had been in a very similar condition, body shorn clean in two and tossed to opposite corners. It was an awful memory, but the expression on Bane and the audience's faces as his bloodless body fell apart like a rotting tree trunk and then kept moving was a silver lining he'd always treasure.

But he'd been repaired and back on his feet in weeks, if bearing the incandescent fury of the doll for several more. It had been months for Barbara, and still nothing was happening.

"There's something we're missing, and I doubt it's on your side."

"I know THAT-"

"Listen," he demanded, and her jaw clicked shut mutinously. "There's something we're not seeing. Batgirl is in no shape to demand it herself, it seems. So its inaction is something we can't fully rely on."

"You've got the most experience with the dolls of all of us. Can you.. I don't know, sense anything?"

"Nothing more than the usual, with the Patriarch Doll, but we might get more if we return to the doll house -"

"No." Barbara interrupted again, but Bruce did not take offence. "She's not going anywhere. She doesn't want to head back to the cave."

Oh?

"She doesn't want to, or she doesn't care to?"

"I say she doesn't."

Interesting. This was likely a case of the doll exerting its will. The bats were well versed in avoiding the few lines their wooden bodies drew in the sand, treating them with the wary respect one would give a favorite blade or a highly trained attack dog. They could work together, share the highs and lows of life with them, but never get complacent. The dolls were forever a foreign, inhuman presence, and as with all wild creatures they would never be so arrogant as to assume full understanding. For Barbara to so strongly decide for the doll meant she was most likely not the only one deciding.

Which meant the solution would not be found in the cave.

"Perhaps there are upgrades she wishes to have?"

Oracle paused.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But there's practically a limitless amount of things I could do, and I wouldn't know where to start. And I could more easily do them when she's up and walking."

Not that then. If the doll wanted something to change but not receive upgrades or heal, than what?

... Not heal.

Batman hurried to the table. Oracle watched him with hawk eyes, but another call on the comms turned her away with a final warning glance.

Recovering every single splinter from a damaged wooden object and perfectly reattaching it was nigh impossible on a good day, never mind in the dead of night with a moving target. The dolls always returned to the cave to regenerate scratches and nicks they couldn't buff out, or accepted plaster to transmute with whatever supernatural power guided them.

The batgirl on the table, divested of all covering and armour, was still as chipped and scuffed as the day nightwing recovered last splinter.

The pieces fell into place.

"She doesn't want to be perfectly rebuilt," he realised. "She doesn't want the damage to disappear as it normally does... She wants it to remain visible. A different type of repair, then."

Oracle spun in her wheelchair to face him.

"Why?" she asked, something sharp in her eyes. Bruce chose his next words carefully.

"Perhaps she thinks such damage doesn't need to be hidden away," he said, slowly, and didn't comment when she turned away. Though she put on a strong face, and the doctors had recently released her full time, it would be a long time until the young hero was able to truly heal her mind.

"She doesn't need to do that for me. She's just causing me trouble."

"I don't think she is," he tried. "Dolls tend to reflect their puppeteer even after they accept us. You can't deny your trajectory has been changed."

They both sent a significant look to the enormous super computer taking up the wall.

"You've said you almost feel better able to protect Gotham now, with your reach and skills. Do you really feel that way?"

"I - I don't -" her mouth worked silently, and Bruce waited. "I mean I guess... But a part of me always assumed it'd be temporary, you know? Once I fixed batgirl.. It'd all return to normal." Her voice wobbled, and Bruce didn't hesitate to crouch before her, wrapping her in a long armed hug. She buried herself in his chest, regardless of the chilled metal.

"It's okay if you don't," he whispered into her hair, and held her as she shook. "I'm just throwing ideas around."

"I do though," she rasped. "I think I do feel that way. There's so much that can't be solved by violence, and it feels good to be out there but... I think I can help even more people, this way."

"That's good," he praised, "that's good. You can do whatever you set your mind to."

"You stole that from a parenting book verbatim."

"It's applicable to the current situation."

"Fine," she sighed, and pushed him away to roughly scrub at her eyes. "I'll give the doll another chance. Find some glitter glue or something, I don't know."

"Any materials you need will be provided," he promised. "I wouldn't recommend glitter glue or our usual tar."

He moved to pat her on the hair as the emotions of the moment faded, making sure to keep his unsheathed claws out of her hair.

"Once you fix her, though, I would recommend you puppet the doll during night hours still," he told her. "It wouldn't be good to put your body through twenty hour days."

"I've got a good system set up for now, but thank, B-man."

The computer dinged with another alert, and oracle spun to squint at it with a muffled curse, typing furiously. Batman escaped to the other side of the room, where the folders he'd originally come looking for lay. She waved, distracted, as he left, and although the doll could not smile, he could feel it on his face all the same.

@puppetmaster13u I summon thee dear mutual ^^

#I don't know which of us came up with the kintsukuroi idea but it worked brilliantly #Unexpected discussion of clinging to the idea of normality as something that can be returned to despite thinking you're okay with your #Life altering chronic condition diagnosis 🫠#Off screen nightwing is just not having a good time #I'm still testing out my characterisation of b but I'm pretty happy with him. Good dad b but also pre/no Ethiopia so he's healthier as it i #Oh btw the dolls don't have gender being inanimate the bats are anthropomorphising them #In the same way sailors call their boats she or my mum decided the roomba is a he #Some world building! I stuffed a lot in lol #I like the idea of the bats having different masks. Like the gas mask is for arkham breakouts or gas villains or ivy so it's the famous one #But they also use plain cloth masks or ceramic ones or decorative ones when the occasion calls. They've got scuba ones too #long post #batman #world building #worldbuilding #bruce wayne #possessed doll au #haunted doll #cryptid batman #cryptid batfam #batman au #dc oracle #barbara gordon #batgirl #I'm trying to keep the dolls as mindless but watchful as possible #Like they don't have opinions or ideas or anything. You could do literally whatever you wanted as long as you follow The Rules #I don't think the bats really know about the contracts. I think b has inferred something. But it's more trial and error #One idea I had is that the dolls are powered by the life force of past users mutated into... Whatever tf from all the curses.#So by entering the contract you lose a significant chunk of your ability to enter the afterlife.#Yes this would only be noticed by the jl going to the future and trying to find the souls of everyone or smth for whatever reason #And the bats don't have much of anything. Leading to the further impression that they aren't remotely human

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