Prompt Ficlets (collected)
These were too short to each get their own posts, and were written to a characters+phrase from a list sort of prompt meme.
Bill, Barry, "Breaking the Rules"
The clanks are mostly in pieces, the human army mostly unconscious, and the Duke has mostly stopped trying to kick them. “I suppose you want tribute,” he grits out.
"No," Barry begins, disgusted, and Bill overrides him.
"Yes." Bill sits down on the chest of a fallen clank. "But you don’t give it to us. You give it back to your people." The Duke had not actually been very good at raiding, but it had been a productive town before he got carried away and decided to pour all its resources into the attempt.
The Duke looked blank. “What are they going to do with a lot of broken clanks?”
"That can’t be all you’ve got left," Barry said incredulously.
The Duke actually looked sheepish. “Possibly?”
"Well, I’m sure they’ll-" Bill began.
"This isn’t Mechanicsburg," Klaus reminded them between his teeth, sotto voce and not quite sing-song. “They probably can’t repurpose Spark-work that easily.”
Barry sighs. “Okay, fine, we’ll take them apart first.” There is an alarming building-up whine from the clank Bill is sitting on, and they break off for a few seconds to dismantle its overheating weaponry. Barry rubs the back of his neck afterward and suggests, “Maybe we'll take some of the nastier ones home in trade for food and seed.”
“And you’re going to apologize,” Bill adds to the Duke.
They do. And he does.
It’s not exactly the usual treatment of defeated opponents… but Heterodynes always made their own rules.
Klaus, Gkika, 'Mischief Managed'
He swings the device above his head, she jumps for it, and -
-
--
---
----
- It’s gone, and there are afterimages on his retinas of something (giant claws and too many eyes and geometry that doesn’t make sense). He’s distracted enough that the next thing he knows, it’s Gkika’s claws in his lapels and she’s roaring into his face. “VOT. DID. HYU. DO?”
In his lapels, not his skin; that’s something. “Asked for-”
"Oh, dun hyu even schtart-"
"Hold.” The barked command grips him by the back of the brain and he feels icewater seep into his blood. Not again- He turns (he can turn) to see the girl, with his son beside her (Gil looks awful) and the Sturmvoraus boy (who actually looks worse).
She smiles and tosses his stasis bomb into the air. He thinks of lunging for it, but Gkika would slow him too much, and it lands again lightly in her hand.
"He’s done a lot of things," Agatha says. It is Agatha. She doesn’t move like the erratic spitfire-mouse he was first introduced to, but she doesn’t move like Lucrezia either. She stands a little like Bill and actually a lot like Judy. Klaus is not particularly reassured. "Also, he’s a revenant. We’ve got a cure brewing, but we had to go ahead and break the last bit of the stasis before the angel got you."
Klaus blinks. “The what?”
"It’s a long story." She turns the stasis device in her hand again. "You’re going to have to take a chance on me this time."
He glares. “I tried that. Twice.”
"You invited me to be your prisoner," she retorts. "Twice."
"Hyu used to be better at this sort of ting," Gkika grumbles at him.
"I won’t command you to cooperate," Agatha says. (She could.) "But I will not let you go free with Lucrezia’s commands in your head, either."
Gil steps forward and, suddenly… is not Gil. “Neither will I,” he tells himself.
"Hoo boy," says Gkika, eyes narrowed. "Ve iz going to have a long tokk."
Klaus huffs out a breath. And surrenders for real.
Barry, Klaus, 'Mischief Managed'
It’s an elaborate contraption, designed to interfere with the plumbing just so and only when the appropriate target is in range, precisely two minutes after the water temperature stabilizes.
Easy enough to set up, between them. The overhead bath is Klaus’s own design and… well, he wants to take apart Barry’s recognition module as soon as this is over.
The Wulfenbachs have stood up to their marauding for centuries, but Klaus still can’t quite believe he’s pranking the Heterodyne. Even with his brother’s collusion. (He also isn’t sure he shares Barry’s blithe assurance that Bill will take it in good part, but Bill repurposed the waffle iron in a fugue yesterday and deserves it.)
Bill yells as icy water rains down on him, and it’s too late to back out. Of course they are assaulted in due course by something with wings and tentacles that appears to be made entirely out of towels, but everything calms down in the end.
Bill, Barry, 'Are you challenging me?'
Content warning: This one isn't nice. The question comes from their father.
Bill lifted his chin. “I won’t do it and I won’t watch. Not this time.”
Barry ground his teeth a little. Sneaking prisoners out hadn’t worked yet, but he wasn’t sure open confrontation was actually going to help the man on the slab. He backed his brother up anyway. “He’s right. I won’t either.”
The back of their father’s hand hit Bill’s jaw, and he went down. “You will attend this anatomy lesson,” he grated. “Man up and show some respect.”
Bill was back on his feet before their father finished speaking, eyes burning. “I won’t.”
"Castle," their father said, voice rising, ringing, "my sons do not have permission to leave this room. Matter of fact, keep them where they are." Barry felt stones clamp around his feet. Their father paused. "And I want a few taps on the Doom Bell. There’s something I want to try."
He opened up the back of the prisoner’s skull, deftly, before the first peal. Open space - he was doing something to the brainstem to keep the man conscious, and Barry was curious in spite of himself and a little sick with it - freedom - that was a laugh, watching a man shackled and screaming, who didn’t need more reasons for despair, and if he let himself start laughing he might just lose himself - potential -
"Let me try," he demanded.
The Castle let go of his feet as his father turned with a toothy smile and Bill looked betrayed.
Barry’s fingers closed on the bloody instrument, and he half-listened as his father explained the principles of maintaining consciousness under stress that ought to induce syncope or even coma.
His hand did not slip or shake as he severed the spinal cord.
Bill, Barry, "Breaking the Rules"
The clanks are mostly in pieces, the human army mostly unconscious, and the Duke has mostly stopped trying to kick them. “I suppose you want tribute,” he grits out.
"No," Barry begins, disgusted, and Bill overrides him.
"Yes." Bill sits down on the chest of a fallen clank. "But you don’t give it to us. You give it back to your people." The Duke had not actually been very good at raiding, but it had been a productive town before he got carried away and decided to pour all its resources into the attempt.
The Duke looked blank. “What are they going to do with a lot of broken clanks?”
"That can’t be all you’ve got left," Barry said incredulously.
The Duke actually looked sheepish. “Possibly?”
"Well, I’m sure they’ll-" Bill began.
"This isn’t Mechanicsburg," Klaus reminded them between his teeth, sotto voce and not quite sing-song. “They probably can’t repurpose Spark-work that easily.”
Barry sighs. “Okay, fine, we’ll take them apart first.” There is an alarming building-up whine from the clank Bill is sitting on, and they break off for a few seconds to dismantle its overheating weaponry. Barry rubs the back of his neck afterward and suggests, “Maybe we'll take some of the nastier ones home in trade for food and seed.”
“And you’re going to apologize,” Bill adds to the Duke.
They do. And he does.
It’s not exactly the usual treatment of defeated opponents… but Heterodynes always made their own rules.
Klaus, Gkika, 'Mischief Managed'
He swings the device above his head, she jumps for it, and -
-
--
---
----
- It’s gone, and there are afterimages on his retinas of something (giant claws and too many eyes and geometry that doesn’t make sense). He’s distracted enough that the next thing he knows, it’s Gkika’s claws in his lapels and she’s roaring into his face. “VOT. DID. HYU. DO?”
In his lapels, not his skin; that’s something. “Asked for-”
"Oh, dun hyu even schtart-"
"Hold.” The barked command grips him by the back of the brain and he feels icewater seep into his blood. Not again- He turns (he can turn) to see the girl, with his son beside her (Gil looks awful) and the Sturmvoraus boy (who actually looks worse).
She smiles and tosses his stasis bomb into the air. He thinks of lunging for it, but Gkika would slow him too much, and it lands again lightly in her hand.
"He’s done a lot of things," Agatha says. It is Agatha. She doesn’t move like the erratic spitfire-mouse he was first introduced to, but she doesn’t move like Lucrezia either. She stands a little like Bill and actually a lot like Judy. Klaus is not particularly reassured. "Also, he’s a revenant. We’ve got a cure brewing, but we had to go ahead and break the last bit of the stasis before the angel got you."
Klaus blinks. “The what?”
"It’s a long story." She turns the stasis device in her hand again. "You’re going to have to take a chance on me this time."
He glares. “I tried that. Twice.”
"You invited me to be your prisoner," she retorts. "Twice."
"Hyu used to be better at this sort of ting," Gkika grumbles at him.
"I won’t command you to cooperate," Agatha says. (She could.) "But I will not let you go free with Lucrezia’s commands in your head, either."
Gil steps forward and, suddenly… is not Gil. “Neither will I,” he tells himself.
"Hoo boy," says Gkika, eyes narrowed. "Ve iz going to have a long tokk."
Klaus huffs out a breath. And surrenders for real.
Barry, Klaus, 'Mischief Managed'
It’s an elaborate contraption, designed to interfere with the plumbing just so and only when the appropriate target is in range, precisely two minutes after the water temperature stabilizes.
Easy enough to set up, between them. The overhead bath is Klaus’s own design and… well, he wants to take apart Barry’s recognition module as soon as this is over.
The Wulfenbachs have stood up to their marauding for centuries, but Klaus still can’t quite believe he’s pranking the Heterodyne. Even with his brother’s collusion. (He also isn’t sure he shares Barry’s blithe assurance that Bill will take it in good part, but Bill repurposed the waffle iron in a fugue yesterday and deserves it.)
Bill yells as icy water rains down on him, and it’s too late to back out. Of course they are assaulted in due course by something with wings and tentacles that appears to be made entirely out of towels, but everything calms down in the end.
Bill, Barry, 'Are you challenging me?'
Content warning: This one isn't nice. The question comes from their father.
Bill lifted his chin. “I won’t do it and I won’t watch. Not this time.”
Barry ground his teeth a little. Sneaking prisoners out hadn’t worked yet, but he wasn’t sure open confrontation was actually going to help the man on the slab. He backed his brother up anyway. “He’s right. I won’t either.”
The back of their father’s hand hit Bill’s jaw, and he went down. “You will attend this anatomy lesson,” he grated. “Man up and show some respect.”
Bill was back on his feet before their father finished speaking, eyes burning. “I won’t.”
"Castle," their father said, voice rising, ringing, "my sons do not have permission to leave this room. Matter of fact, keep them where they are." Barry felt stones clamp around his feet. Their father paused. "And I want a few taps on the Doom Bell. There’s something I want to try."
He opened up the back of the prisoner’s skull, deftly, before the first peal. Open space - he was doing something to the brainstem to keep the man conscious, and Barry was curious in spite of himself and a little sick with it - freedom - that was a laugh, watching a man shackled and screaming, who didn’t need more reasons for despair, and if he let himself start laughing he might just lose himself - potential -
"Let me try," he demanded.
The Castle let go of his feet as his father turned with a toothy smile and Bill looked betrayed.
Barry’s fingers closed on the bloody instrument, and he half-listened as his father explained the principles of maintaining consciousness under stress that ought to induce syncope or even coma.
His hand did not slip or shake as he severed the spinal cord.