#Wally felt small so they put them on their shoulders so he could feel tall

[torra-and-the-toons]

can you draw something with Numbuh 2, 3 and 4 trio please :>

They're silly :>

#torra answers #kndbrainrot #torras art #codename kids next door #knd #numbuh 2 #hoagie gilligan #numbuh 3 #kuki sanban #numbuh 4 #wallabee beetles #not ship art #just sillies #Wally felt small so they put them on their shoulders so he could feel tall #ty for the cute request :> #I'm still getting a feel for the style lol #the angled shoes give me a hard time

[charlesboyfriendwasright]

Prom with Peter Maximoff

CW: none, just some sickening fluff, Jubilee and Kurt are 💅 because I said so, Peter is a bumbling idiot but not annoying levels of it, I didn't go to prom so this is probably not at all accurate, no prom queen/king for one, also no slow dance??? Idk why not I might rewrite this completely but I do kinda like this so I'm posting it, I wrote this with F!Reader in mind, but other than that Reader wears a dress it's Gender Neutral, I wrote this to distract myself from cramps, and as always, lazily edited

You take a deep breath and run your fingers over the fabric of your dress, the silver lightly shimmering under the light of your dorm. You were waiting for your date, Peter Maximoff, to come get you and take you down the hall to the large gymnasium at Xavier's School for the Gifted where the dance was.

You and Peter weren't dating when he asked you to the dance, but you might as well have been, since the two of you were practically attached at the hip ever since he saved the school from exploding and then enrolled. It was kind of cliché to wait for him, since the gym was only 20 yards from your dorm, but Peter said it would feel like a more authentic dance this way, so you agreed with a laugh.

Just as you were starting to wonder what was taking the speedster so long, a knock at your door sounded. You got up, smoothing out the lines in the dress and grinning when you opened the door.

Peter was dressed in a pair of black slacks (they hung a bit big on him, leading you to believe they were probably borrowed from Erik) and a light blue and silver striped dress shirt, silver and blue flowers pinned to the lapel. It was simple and the two of you matched quite well. His hair was combed to the best of his ability but still hung loose around his face. You resisted to urge to ruffle your hands through it. His eyes sparkled as he looked you up and down in awe and pure adoration. You wanted to kiss him but decided against it, how silly to have you two's first kiss be minutes before the dance, standing half in the hallway half in your dorm.

"You look stunning," he breathed out. Your face heat at his comment and you patted your hair nervously.

"Thanks, you look great too," you told him. He grinned at the praise, clearly proud of himself for managing to clean up.

He stared at you for a few more seconds before a though occured to him and he cleared his throat. "I got you this-" he reached behind him to something he had clipped to the back of his pants, pulling out a clip on flower lapel to match his own- "it's fake so you can keep it forever." You smiled at the sentiment and helped him pin it onto your dress. He held out an arm to you and you stepped forward and placed your hand in his own, letting him lead you two to the gym.

Jean and Jubilee had been in charge of decorating, and while they did an excellent job, you could clearly see where each of their influence showed. Jean had a clean snack table set up at the end closest to the main door, a plastic cover set over- silver, funnily enough- to catch any spills from the three different punch bowls. There were huge -silver- letters above the door that spelled out "PROM" and streamers and confetti carefully placed in meticulous order. It looked great.

Jubilee's side was pure chaos. She used the same streamers and confetti as Jean, but it was thrown wherever without any semblance of a pattern. A makeshift stage was put up and the resident band, the Musical Mutants (we're not naming ourselves that) (we totally should it's hilarious) (no) (you're outvoted), was playing a cover of some rock song you didn't recognize, but it had a nice beat, and Peter took your hand to join the rest of your friends on the dance floor.

Jean and Scott greeted you as they held hands, Scott occasionally twirling Jean around, Jubilee gave you a big hug and Kurt waved awkwardly before they introduced you to their partners. Jubilee girlfriend Kess was a tall dark haired woman in a light pink dress, who you vaguely recognized from around the school, and Kurt's boyfriend Wally was a shorter guy you were pretty sure you had science with. You all had agreed to go as a group about a month before Wally asked Kurt, and then Jean asked Scott, Jubes asked Kess and Peter asked you, so you ended up as one big quadruple date.

You all talked for a while before a particular song came on and Jubilee and Kess ran off to go dance, Scott and Jean excused themselves- "to go make out" as Peter put it, despite your playful slap to his chest at the comment, and Kurt and Wally went off to go say hi to some of Wally's friends.

"They ditched us," Peter said in faux sadness. You shook your head lightly and smiled.

"They probably didn't want to stand here much longer watching you stare at me."

He did his best to look offended. "I was being discreet." He turned up his nose and looked away. He quickly turned back though as the realization of what you said kicked in. "You saw me?"

You smiled at the blush crawling over his cheeks and nodded. He shook his head and muttered to himself about being more careful, which only made you laugh more. Satisfied with your happiness, he took your hand and sped you around to say hello to all of your friends.

This continued well into the night, Peter and you bouncing around from person to person, group to group and conversing with your friends, stopping once in a while to dance or sing along to the a song, and by the time the band took a break, you were exhausted. You made one last stop at the snack table to give your compliments to the band before leading Peter out to the big field that was sometimes used for class. Next to it was a small garden a few of the Botanokinetics and other gardening enthusiasts kept up. The two of you sat down on the bench, your hand in Peter's lap to let him fiddle with the beads of your bracelet to help him keep still.

The sky was dark, stars dotting the horizon, sun long gone and the moon taking up it's place in the sky. Music could still be heard fairly loudly from the gym but it didn't bother you two as you lay a head on his shoulder, listening to him talk about arcade games, and stared off at the small group of students running in circles with sparklers far out by the lake. You could almost spot Jubilee out with them, making hearts around Kess with her powers. You smiled up at Peter as he continued to ramble. He stopped when he realized you were staring at him.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's okay. I like hearing you talk about things you like. I feel.honored you want to share that with me." He grinned at your sentiment.

"Why the hell did I not ask you out sooner."

You shrugged and pulled off his shoulder. He reached out, very suddenly for you, though you suppose it must've been a normal rate from his perspective, to cup your cheek in his hand and pull you ever so slightly closer to him. You gulped and glanced at his lips as he leaned further, stopping a few inches from your mouth to wait for you to close the gap. You waited for a few seconds before leaving in and pressing your lips to his.

There wasn't any fireworks, there was no magic switch that clicked in your brain, just Peter's lips, so soft against yours. There was just Peter's hand on your neck, pulling you closer. It might not've been showstopping, but it felt like heaven, and that was enough.

@itwasmoirasfaultsorrynotsorry

[not my gif @anakinskywalkers ]

#i forgot to fucking tag this i- #xmen #peter maximoff xmen #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fanfiction #peter maximoff fluff #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #quicksilver fluff

[rotomgender-moved]

Runs in Our Family, Part two

Warnings: Ask To Tag, Injuries

Word Count: 2.3K

Part Two

The first thing N noticed was the sheer noise that we're coming from this group of children. Second, was the child on child violence going on-

Where are their parents? It made them confused and concerned for a moment, did they not have a chaperone? Who would trust children with pokemon on their own?

It was when he saw someone cowering in the corner that he realized, yes, they did have a chaperone. They've just dethroned the poor guy.

"Pl-ease calm yourselves!" The man squawked, "We can't have anyone getting hurt! Especially Wally, the poor boy is sickly enough!" As soon as the man's gaze met N's, he got up and quickly struttsd over with the grace of a swana. "Oh thank Arceus- can you please help out? Entertain them for a bit so I can set up lunch? The triplets and Mallow asked me to distract them, but they're treating me as a joke-"

"I'll help. My name is N."

"Thank you, oh thank you so much! My name is Wallace, I was a gym leader back in Hoenn." Wallace greeted with a relieved sigh. "Just give me a moment, I'm sure you can handle it for a few minutes. I just need to grab a change of clothes so these ones dont get dirtied, they're a bitch to handwash." He chuckled a little, patting N's shoulder and slipping by.

"... language." N muttered quietly. 

He felt eyes bearing into him as the room suddenly fell silent, Ruby spoke up.

"This is the guy with the white dragon Nate was talking about! All the cool pokemon that he can talk to!" The boy grinned, throwing his hands up.

"Uhm… Hello-?"

"He looks like a twig." A voice spoke up, one with that accent he couldn't place who paralyzed him. The little brats.

"Yeah… He- He looked like a mess-"

"Okay! Okay that's enough!" As Rosa and Nate approached, tugging Hugh behind them like a ragdoll, N snapped his head to them.

"Why did you tell them about the white dragon?" N hissed, giving the twins and their friend a glare. "You aren't meant to just-"

"Shut up, N, anyways!" Rosa continued. "He's sensitive, so don't touch him or be too loud. Or pull his hair, I got bit for that once."

"He bit you?" A gasp came from a blond girl playing with her tall, blue frog pokemon. 

"No, Ex, his Unphezant did. Wh- Why would he bite me?"

"Isn't he that guy that Bede nearly killed in the woods?" Ex said, and a gasp came from one of those kids, as though he had been personally offended. From how he looked, N assumed Bede was one of the kids on the boat in a fight.

"It was not me! It was Gloria and you all know it!" He spat. 

"It wasn't me, it was Victor!" Gloria hissed back. 

"It was me- stop fighting you aggressive dunces." Victor smacked the back of Gloria's head. "Sorry about that again, Mint-Boy."

N starred in awe at how fast all these kids started antagonizing each other. It was almost impressive how tense the energy in the room is. He looked down to Hugh.

"Is this how it always is?" 

"Yeeeaaaah, just about."

"Oh my…" N took in a sharp intake of breath as Wallace returned, immediately sighing in defeat. Wallce had this elegant energy tacked on him that was absolutely torn due to the rowdiness of all the kids. 

"Did they give you too much trouble?"

"No, they were distracted tearing each other apart."

"I see, well. How about you show off your pokemon, or battle one of them? I'm sure they'd appreciate the form of stimulation that isn't… Whatever Silver, Gold and Crystal do." He motioned his hand to a group of three. That foulmouthed redhead getting put in a headlock by a brunette boy. Who seemed to be playfully insulting him while a young girl kept score on a piece of paper.

"Yeah… I'll do that." N nodded, stepping towards the group while Wallace went to break up the rough housing between the three mineral-named children. He immediately was met by a small, frail green haired boy, who had a nervous smile and a cheerful wave.

"Hello, sir! I was told you could speak with pokemon. I wanted to ask if you could hear what my pokemon can say?"

"Oh, uh." N wasn't sure what to do, ever since he had left Team Plasma he had never been around so many people. He thought back on Zoroark's words. That talking to people would do him some good. "Yes, I can do that for you and… Whoever else wants me to." He promised, sitting down.

"I'm Wally, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Call me N."

He met many faces so quickly! Barry, the energetic boy with a Staraptor who seemed to have nearly the exact same spunk. Wally and his elegantly worded Gallade, who worked tirelessly to defend the boy. The endlessly smiling Hop and his gruff, aloof Dubwool, as well as learning that the four accented children are from a place called Galar. Ex and Wy, two twins with teams that seemed to completely mirror one another. The hot headed Silver and his Magnasium, who N believes that Zororak would get along wonderfully with. 

Seeing all these trainers and pokemon with such diverse personalities couldn't help but make him smile. Especially the grins that they got being able to know exactly what they're pokemon thought of them. Silver's reaction made him the most joyful, seeing the boy try to hide that toothy little grin and begin to ride on his grass types back, whispering to her and thanking her. It made N's heart swell, so much so that he had to return the favor and do as he promised Ruby.

He released nearly all of his team except one; Zoroark, Vanilluxe, Archen, Unphezant and Klinklang. Leaving the white dragon out of this. Some seemed unimpressed, having seen all of these pokemon before. But quick as a bolt of multicolored lightning, some of them rushed over to examine them.

"What is it?" chimed Crystal, running her fingers through Archens feathers.

"Oh you're really tough-looking!" Barry grinned, Klinklang allowing the blond to feel its many gears. 

"This is that Zoroak you were talking about, right?" Sapphire questioned, examining the illusionist's paws. 

Question after question was thrown his way, as N chuckled and tried to keep up. 

"This is Klinklang, he's an electric-steel type pokemon. This is Archen, a flying-rock type. Be careful, it's shy! Zoroark is a dark type, Vanilluxe is an Ice type, and Unphezant. A flying-normal type." N explained, smiling a little as Zoroark nodded in approval. He began to ramble on about the pokemon, answering any questions and quieting down to listen to any of the kids' connections, stories and such. It seemed to calm down… Almost all of them. Except for one, who he had found left the room at some point… Wallace was gone as well. Maybe he had gone off with one of them for one reason or another? It caused confusion and worry to boil deep down inside his belly as he quickly realized which of the kids was missing.

Where had Sapphire slipped off all the sudden?

/// Sapphire ///

"Wallace, come on!" Sapphire called over her shoulder, dashing through the forest. In front of her ran her Blaziken, slapping away vines and thick brush so that the others behind it wouldn't trip and fall. Above them, the call of a Skarmory alerted them that Steven Stone was keeping up well and various other cries of pokemon meant that the entire group was keeping up.

Sapphire was in the lead as Wallace, Steven, Red, Iris and Cheren kept up. There was a disturbance, they knew that was true. It was something that they could just tell deep inside them, something Sapphire knew all too well. A tight ball in her guts that her pokemon seemed to feel as well.

"Over here!" Cheren called out over his shoulder, the cry of his serperior confirming his claim. "I saw the flash of a pokemon being returned! Tuxedo, short hair from the silhouette I saw!"

"Got it, Skarmory that way!" Steven called from above, leading the group away. 

"I'll check over there in case they run!" Sapphire yelled to the group, hearing a grunt of approval from Blue as she ran off with Sceptile. Her running steps crunched the leaves as the leaves thickened above. Blotting out the sky and leaving the light being emitted from glowing flowers, vines and mushrooms. 

The deeper she ran, the more the air thickened with the smell of heavy, damp leaf mold and sickly sweet tree sap. The deeper she ran… The more she realized how lost she got herself in the heat of the moment. 

Sapphire was lost in an unrecognizable part of the forest, lit merely by glowing plants and fungus and silence broken by the movement of distant pokemon and whistling wind. As she walked, she felt the ground disappear from her feet. Before she knew it, she was tumbling down into a small ditch. Sapphire yelped as she fell, feeling a pain in her arm as she hit the ground.

"Ow- ow." She groaned, slowly getting up as Sceptile slid down to follow its owner. When she got up, her Sceptile put a claw on her shoulder, grunting and looking around in preparation to attack at any moment. That moment came soon then she thought, two pairs of eyes suddenly lighting up the darkness, the movement of something stalking and something else dragging itself. 

She backed into the Sceptile out of fear, looking up at the narrow-eyed pokemons threatening glare. As the pokemon revealed themselves, Sceptile growled. A large, fiery maned pokemon with a dark brown pelt beside a tall, haunting pokemon made of wood and leaves. A lion and a tree, slowly stalking towards her. As she shut her eyes and slowly pointed, ready to command an attack, a voice spoke from behind the two pokemon. 

"Are you lost, little one?" A smooth and low voice with a kalosant accent, worry panging their voice. As she cracked open her eyes, she was met by a tall and regal man with long, red hair. His face was aged, but only ever so slightly. Maybe in his thirties or forties. "Are you okay?"

"I'm… I ran off trying to find someone that did some bad stuff." Sapphire explained. "Got seperated from my friends."

"Oh my," The man began, approaching a bit and opening a pocket. "You're hurt, let me help you. Show me your arm." The brunette looked, noticing her arm had a bleeding cut. She hadn't even noticed the cut itself when she initially fell, too struck with shock and fear to notice anything but momentary pain. She held out her arm, which the man carefully took in dark-gloved hands. As though he would shatter her in a moment. 

"Thank you." She quietly nodded as he began to clean the wound with some disinfectant pads he had in his pocket. Soon following it uo with two or three bandaids. 

"No need, petit ami. Is your Sceptile alright? I'm sorry if Treevanant and Pyroar caused you any trouble."

"No! No- they just scared us. Sceptile's okay."

"That's good to hear, a relief." He nodded. "My name is Lysander, I was invited here from Kalos. I missed the main boat so I came on a different one." Lysander explained, taking his hands away. 

"Sapphire, Grass Type gym leader in Hoenn." She introduced herself, sticking her injury-free hand out. Which he took and gave a gentle shake."

"Pleasure to male your acquaintance." Lysander nodded. "Allow me to take you to the home of some friends and I, you can rest up for the night and be on your way. It's quite late."

"Is it?" She asked.

"Yes, nearing the faery's hour." He explained, patting Pyroar's back. "Come and sit on him, I'll guide you back. I promise he doesn't bite." Lysander offered, slowly backing away.

Sapphire thought for a moment, this wasn't the first time in her journeys she's accepted such offers, as well as Sceptile being right beside her, she decided her best interest would be to accept. 

"Alright! Thank you again."

"No need." He smiled warmly, directing his pokemon to bend at the knees and allow her to climb on. As they began on the path, he clicked the button of a PokeBall to the Treevanant, returning it. "I'd hate to see someone with an injury rot away into something hideous."

Sapphire nodded, stroking Pyroar's mane with a hum. The pokemon was quite warm and each swish of its tail caused embers to float in the air for a moment. Leaving small wisps of light only to die out, the silence broke as Lysander joined in the humming with a tune. His warm smile has turned softer, more relaxed. 

"What are you humming?" Sapphire tilted her head.

"Oh? An old song from Kalos." He shrugged, only making her curiosity rise.

"Can you sing it? I wanna hear it." She grinned as he knitted his brows in thought. 

"If you wish," He chuckled a little as he cleared his throat. "Forgive if I'm rusty."

"Comme les ténèbres obscurcissent la lumière,

L'or du soleil étouffé par la nuit d'argent

Oh, petit, ne te laisse pas faire confiance

Les sauvages qui font des bonbons avec de la rouille

Ils arpentent les chemins, les forêts de fae,

Et avec la lune ils font ce qu'ils peuvent

La nuit hantée par les fantômes et les Gengar

Ils portent des malédictions de près et de loin

Toutes les personnes de Kanto à Galar

Sachez que les pierres pointues et les roses

Cachez-vous parmi les étoiles."

#rangers writing #runs in our family fanfiction

[thescatterbrainedwriter]

Crossed Wires pt.2

Flash Fanfic

——

Warnings: None

Word Count: ~2,000

Pairings: Oc x Canon

***Note: Emily is my own creation, I just like sticking her in random places***

——

They popped back up in the living room of Nash’s place, Harry holding onto Emily for a moment when they touched ground again not really wanting to let her go. “You good?” she asked making sure his footing was stable. “Yup, I’m good,” Harry assured. “You sure?” She asked with a smirk lifting their still joined hands. “Mhmm,” he repeated still holding on. Her heart skipped when he smirked making her tense for a second. “Ok, good,” she said letting his hand go and moving to take her shoes off. “So, I’m assuming you may be hungry? Want anything?” She asked making her way to the kitchen. “No, I’m ok for now,” he dismissed shaking his head. After taking off his shoes and jacket he followed her to the kitchen. Her heart rate picked up as he got closer and she bit her lip trying to keep herself together. “Theeeeen what.... did you waaaaanna do?” Harry shrugged. “I dunno,” he stated casually somewhat amused at her discomfort. It was his turn to make her blush and he was going to have fun with it.

“Ok, well, I’m gonna go.... make a snack. Or something. Should probably calibrate and affix your neural scanner first though.”

“Oh right, yeah. Should probably... do that....” he said pulling out the device and handing it to her. He followed her into the kitchen and took a seat, Emily standing in front of him given he was so tall even on a chair. As she concentrated making sure everything was in order, Harry studied her with a smile that slowly got wider the longer she took. He saw her brows furrow, her eyes fixate on her task, pupils dilate, mouth pouted and even her tongue stuck out the side of her mouth a little. “Hmmkay... that should do it,” she said completing affixing the small device to his forehead. Smiling satisfied she caught him looking at her with soft eyes. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked.

“Just... watching you concentrate,” Harry said with a shrug. “You know, you stick your tongue out and your pupils dilate when you zone out?” He smiled leaning forward and pointing at her. Emily smiled embarrassedly putting her hand in his face to push him away. “Pfffff— stop... staring at meeee,” she whines with a giggle. “Das rude!”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” Harry teased grabbing her hand and removing it from impeding his vision. Emily squinted before licking her other palm and planting it square in the middle of his face prompting him to release her hand in order to wipe the saliva off. She took the opportunity to retreat away all the while giggling at his sounds of disgust. “Uuuugh, why!” He complained.

“I need my hand to make snacks, how else was I supposed to get you to let go?”

“You could have asked!”

“Were you really gonna let it go?”

Harry paused. “.....yes, I would have.”

“You hesitated!” Emily accused pointing at him from across the table squinting suspiciously.

“I would have! ...... Eventually.....” Harry admitted sheepishly. “Mhmm, yeah sure,” she said with a smirk. “Anyway, I’m gonna go change into comfy pj’s and then make a snack. Technically this is your place too so go get comfortable or something. I’ll be back.” She poked her head back out of the door she had just disappeared into after a brief pause. “Don’t worry, I’ll wear pants this time,” she assured and grinned. Harry grinned with a nervous chuckle still sitting at the table and she disappeared again. He sat steeping in uncertainty, his ears beginning to burn as he debated telling her what was on his mind the entire time she was gone today. When she wandered back into the kitchen muttering her nightly to-do list he decided to blurt it out. As she said, how often would he get this opportunity again?

“Hey Emily,” he said quickly standing nearly tipping over the chair. Emily’s head snapped over to him in surprise having been jolted from her thoughts by both his voice and the noise of the chair. “Ack! Oh, you ok?”

“Yeah, ah, I’m fine,” he dismissed righting the chair and breezing over to her. “I.... have spent a lot of time thinking. Today. W-while you were.... out....”

“Ok?” she said raising an eyebrow curiously and leaned against the table. “Whaaaaat was it you thought about and conclusion did you come to? If you came to one.” Harry paused before averting his gaze and scratched his face. “Well.... as you can imagine,” he started. “Things were, well quite a lot for me to take in. Today.”

“Mhmm, though you handled it rather well from what I understand.”

“Yeah, well, I guess..... I guess a few... wires, may have been crossed. So to say.”

“I would say so, yeah,” Emily affirmed.

“No, you don’t understand, it’s more than just me being front and center. I’m talking about......” he paused, his breath seeming to catch and he felt really rather warm now. “Harry?” Emily said concerned.

“Emily I.... I think.... I think I’ve been, feeling things.” Harry stuttered trying to explain himself. “And I spent a lot, and I mean a lot, of time thinking it over because I wanted to make sure it was not just carry over from Nash or....” he looked up at her making eye contact, eyes both apprehensive and anxious. “Or me....” Emily’s heart stopped and her cheeks became rosy. “Whaaaat do you mean?” she asked trying to keep her voice level.

“Well, I— as I’ve said— I was doing quite a lot of thinking today, and going over past memories and doing a bit of.... self reflection I.... I guess. And I came to the conclusion that..... that......” Emily’s eyes grew wide in anticipation and she barely breathed waiting for him to speak. Harry relaxed his shoulders and his face softened. “I love you.” Her breath caught and all she could do was stare at him. “I know, I know,” Harry said after the awkward silence, “this is a really bad time to be bringing that up but, I just..... I was afraid and then Earth 2 was destroyed by the Anti-Monitor and..... and I really regret not telling you sooner.”

A tiny smile cracked Emily’s face and she looked down at the floor scratching her head. “And here I was thinking I scared you off....” she muttered. “Wait, you....?” Harry asked. “Yeaahhh,” she said smiling at him shyly. “But, I mean, you took your wife’s death hard and I thought at some points in time I was over stepping soooo...... I did my best to quash them. The feelings, I mean.” Harry smiled and sighed. “Mixed signals, god I hate those...”

“Eh well, I was.... admittedly, a little scared too,” Emily explained. “Being ripped away at any point and all that doesn’t exactly make for eager relationship mentality.”

“You know people go through a similar fear, called death, right?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.... I know. I’ve been told the before believe it or not,” Emily followed, “But by that logic, I’ve been through that pain, and inflicted that same pain, half a dozen times at the least. Does that indicate someone who would want to make another connection only to hurt someone like that?”

“No, not really,” Harry admitted. “So then.... why Nash?” Emily pursed her lips and shifted very wide eyes to the sides. “I..... guess I have a type? I’m sure Sherloque could relate,” she smiled a cheesy smile. “Besides, in case you didn’t notice, he had to do an awful lot of convincing.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed. “Didn’t hesitate like I did either.”

“No, no he was.... quite persistent. Took him a while to pluck up the courage though.” Emily smiled and Harry mirrored it. “Soooo, then I have a..... question. For you,” he said slowly walking over like he was embarrassed or too shy. “Can I kiss you?” He asked after a hesitated pause. Emily tensed at the question and chewed on her top lip trying to keep goosebumps from erupting all over. “Why don’t you, try and find out?” She asked smirking a little with hints of deviousness. Harry’s heart stopped, he half expected a yes but didn’t think it would come in the form of a challenge. Tentatively he leaned forward after shaking off his surprise and met her lips with his. They stayed like that for a moment letting the kiss linger between them as they absorbed the tingling feeling that came with it. “So that’s what I missed, hmm?” he commented after they parted. “You’re not half bad yourself,” Emily observed with a smile. Harry chuckled. “If Jessie saw me now. By the way, have you seen her? How is she?”

Emily’s smile dropped a bit. “I.... I uh....”

Harry’s entire face dropped noticing her change in body langue. “Jessie.....”

“I haven’t seen her since, uh, since the universes merged,” Emily admitted causing Harry to turn away, she thought he would pass out with how pale he became. “But! Buuuuut, that doesn’t meeeean she doesn’t exist anymore,” she said rubbing his shoulder, he leaned over the table and stared at the surface with a blank expression. “Cisco traveled around to study and catalog all the changes that have showed up including new metas. And we haven’t seen Wallie around in a while, it’s possible they’ve come across her.”

“Yeah, yeah I guess you’re right,” he muttered.

“Why don’t you, uhm, make a list of things you’d.... like me to ask her. When I do find her, hmm?” she asked trying to distract him.

“Yeah.... yeah I’ll.... I think I’ll do that.” Harry nodded. He slowly shuffled his way into the bedroom and sat on the bed. *Yet another thing to absorb,* he thought to himself.

“I’ll be out here if you need me. For anything,” Emily assured with a gentle smile. Harry nodded and she closed the door to give him quiet. *I think now would be an opportune time for brownies,* she thought to herself. *Not that there’s ever a wrong time for them.* She smiled to herself and headed off to raid the cupboards for ingredients.

——

Harry wasn’t sure how long he sat in the quiet room, but he knew it was an hour at the very least by the ringing now very pronounced in his ears. He had compiled a short list of things he wanted to know about Jessie, short for him anyway, mainly pertaining to how she was doing to making sure she was taking care of herself and he wished to tell her he loved her. He also wrote down a few things he wanted Emily to do for him occasionally in regard to keeping an eye on her. Rubbing his face with a hand he sighed deeply, too much thinking and digestion of information for one day had made him very tired and for once he really wanted to not think about anything. He decided to exit the room and find Emily to see what she had found to make for a snack, and what she considered a snack.

Peeking out of the door he first found a smell of chocolate wafting through the air, then heard humming coming from Emily and similar buzzing from a drone or two. Coming closer to the kitchen, he heard bare feet tapping on the floor and laughter every now and then. He stood in the doorway and leaned against the frame watching with a smile, and after a short while Emily happened to turn enough to catch him watching. “What are you doing waaay over there?” She asked with a giggle.

“Oh, you know. Watching,” he replied.

“Being a creeper, eh?” She smiled making her way over to him. “Creeper? What?” He responded in mock insult. She smiled a little wider. “Creeeeeep-errrrrr,” she said and poked his nose leaving a substance on it. Recoiling at the unknown, Harry touched it to find it was brown and smooth in texture. “Fudge?” He asked confused.

Emily grinned again making her way back over to the counter. “Fudge brownies! My favorite, and guaranteed to cheer anyone up,” she said gesturing dramatically to the still hot bake pan. Harry followed and inspected her handiwork. “Is it all done?” He asked. Emily nodded. “Yup, should be cooled enough t— hey wait, what are you doing?” she asked suddenly noticing Harry move to put his entire open hand right on top of the fudge icing she had finished spreading moments ago. Before she could stop him he firmly planted it in the middle of the pan thoroughly coating it. “Ahh! No, my brownies!!” She near screeched. “Why did y—“ her sentence was cut off by the sudden chocolatey hand plopped into the middle of her face. She froze in disbelief leaving Harry to just smile smugly. “For calling me a butthead earlier,” he explained noting her questioning look. “And the saliva handprint.” Emily’s shoulders dropped. “Fair,” she relented. “But did you really have to ruin such beautiful brownies?”

“I really had to ruin your beautiful brownies,” he confirmed. “But are they really ruined? I think they look better.”

“You know, this isn’t what is meant when the request for a hand is given,” Emily replied washing her face. “So I’ll not ask you for a hand in anything any time soon because of this.” She sighed when she turned and saw him proceed to lick all the icing off his hand. “You want a towel or something instead?”

Harry shook his head. “And waste all this fudge? Never,” he smirked. “Want some?” he asked holding his hand to her face. Emily gave him an unimpressed look fueling his smugness before gripping his wrist and licking from the base of his palm up to the end of his middle finger. Harry swore his heart stopped, he did not anticipate a reaction like that in the least. “Mmm, yum. I love fudge, so much. Good call,” she said with a wink. Harry just stared at her as she casually started cleaning her baking mess like nothing happened. “You’re dangerous,” he commented finding his voice again. “I dunno what you’re talking about,” she replied feigning innocence. He squinted at her with a pause before washing his hand, no way was he risking something like that again. *She seemed too confident doing that,* he thought. *I’ll bet Nash instigates that behavior a lot.*

“So, did you manage to make a list?” Emily asked after a brief silence. Harry paused letting the water run down his hands. “Yeah, I did.”

“Good,” Emily replied finishing wiping down the counter. Smiling she turned around. “Now, eat a feel good brownie, properly this time, and then we can go to bed. No more thinking today, sound good?” Harry nodded with a relieved smile. “Yes, very.” Emily stayed in the kitchen while Harry left to change, brownie in hand, and wandered around closing up for the night. When she made her way to the bedroom, she found him staring off into space sitting on one side of the bed. “Hey,” she said breaking his concentration. “I thought I said no more thinking?”

“Ah, right. Sorry, couldn’t help it I guess,” he said with a chuckle before settling into bed. Emily gave a sympathetic look and made her way to the other side. “Alright, tell me what’s on your mind,” she said sliding under the covers and settling in herself. He looked over making eye contact and his face softened almost immediately at her quiet concerned but attentive look. “Too much,” he says with a sigh. ���But, I think mostly, I’m scared.”

“Why are you scared?” She asked scooting a bit closer to him. He sighed again turning on his side to face her. “I’m.... I’m afraid of being lost. I’m afraid to go to sleep because I don’t know if I’ll get the chance to manifest again. That never crossed my mind before today.” Emily sighed softly and gently place a hand on his cheek. “The stubborn and persistent Harry? You’re too assertive to ever disappear.” He chuckled sadly continuing to look at her, his mind calmed and he remembered how he felt the day his mind began to slip and she was there to assure him. “I’ll keep you safe,” she assured softly. “I know,” Harry replied.

“Hey, c’mere,” Emily said after a brief thoughtful pause and stretched out her arms. Harry looked at her quizzically but did as she asked. “What are....?”

“Nash sometimes has nightmares,” Emily explained pulling him close. “This never fails to keep him calm and get him back to sleep.” She wrapped her arms around him gently cradling his head close to her chest and rested her head on top his. Harry stiffened at the close proximity but soon relaxed feeling safe and wrapped his arms around her in return. It didn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep to the sound of her level heartbeat and Emily soon followed.

———

#harrison wells #nash wells #the flash #fanfic #writing #caitlyn snow #science fiction #entertainment #my oc tag #oc x canon

[youllallriseintheink]

Defining Memories, chapter 1

Thanks for showing support, guys. I appreciate it.

---

It had been an average day when it happened. Around eight that morning, ten men and three women found themselves in a misty void with nothing else in it but each other. Except for Henry. Henry lived several states away, so for him it was 10 am and he’d been pulled out of work. Disoriented, he looked around for someone he recognized. His eyes fell upon a blond, sharp-featured man. “Sammy? Sammy Lawrence?”

The man looked back at him, confused. “Henry? Why are you here?”

Henry laughed a little. “Good question. Why are we here?”

“No, I mean, why are you here with all of these Joey Drew Studios employees? You’re the odd one out.”

“Oh. Are there any other patterns you’ve noticed?”

Sammy turned away to look at the other eleven, an irritable look on his face. “Not really. We’ve got everyone from Mr. Piedmont to this joker.” He pointed at a lanky, boyish-looking man covered in freckles. The man had previously been chatting with an impish Irishman that Henry didn’t recognize.

“Henry?” Wally said, before tackling Henry with an energetic hug. “Well I’ll be! It must’ve been years since I’ve seen ya! How’s that studio down in California treatin’ you?”

Henry hugged him back. “Oh, it’s treating me well.”

“Where are my manners? It’s nice to see you again, Henry. Did you manage to patch things up with Linda?” Sammy asked, adding “sorry for snapping,” under his breath.

“Yep, we’ve been married a decade. And it’s fine, Sammy. This is a weird situation, and we should try to figure it out so we can get back to our lives. Let’s see... who’s all here?”

Henry could recognize a few people. Grant Cohen, the accountant that Henry had had a hand in hiring, was there. He had not aged well, looked washed out, and was freaking out over the situation, but at least there were some people with him. Henry remembered him as very shy. Beside him was a rather masculine woman Henry didn’t recognize, and Norman Polk, who was attempting to calm him down. Henry shuddered. Well, if Norman was still here, he must not have done anything bad to warrant firing him, at least, Henry figured. And if someone as nervous as Grant was apparently close to the strange, off-putting man, why should he creep Henry out?

A ways away from that, two women were murmuring to each other, confused. A grumpy, muscular man stood behind the brunette, silent and with crossed arms. It looked like two women, anyhow. They were both shapely, beautiful, and on the tall side, with flowing shoulder-length hair. One, however, had some healthy colour to her chestnut hair, grey eyes, and flushed skin. The other woman’s skin was a sickly pale grey, and everything else about her from her eyes to the dress she wore, to the strange scar on her bizarrely thin neck, was ink-black. And she had horns. Something about her clearly wasn’t natural.

Jack Fain was in the middle of the final group of people there, attempting to mediate a lively argument between two men. One of them was a tall, imposing creature in his sixties wearing a top hat. The other was... Oh, God. Henry did not like the look of this. “Joey.”

“Yeah, Joey,” Wally said. “He’s probably the one who brought us here, with all his fancy voodoo. What of it?”

“I just don’t know how to react. We haven’t contacted each other in years.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Wally’s Irish friend said, “that a fine fellow like you used to be friends with Mr. Drew?"

“Yep,” Henry said, his voice tinged with regret. “I guess I’ll just avoid him. He cut off contact with me when I left. If he wants to reconnect, he can make the first move.”

Henry wondered how his friend had changed over the years. He kept a big smile on his face even as he was all but yelling at the other man, which was no surprise. Joey always seemed cheerful, even when he wasn’t. And he looked as young as ever- no new lines on his face or so much as a single grey in his pitch-black hair. He had, however, lost a good deal of weight and had dark circles under his eyes. He was trying to seem as energetic as ever, but that came off even less genuine than his cheerfulness. It must still have been busy running the studio, because Joey looked drained of life.

Suddenly, a small yellow light flashed above Joey’s head and the room fell silent, all eyes landing on him.

“How dare you lie to the great Bertrum Piedmont?!” the other man boomed at Joey.

“I’m telling you,” Joey snapped, “I didn’t do jack shit!”

Suddenly, the environment changed. The purplish mist cleared to show a darkened studio. What seemed to be a copy of Joey was there, standing before the nozzle of a giant machine, which was making noise as though it was jammed. “What the Hell, Joey!” Shawn whispered.

The Joey clone appeared to get confused and impatient, and went to the back of the machine and tinkered with it a moment, pulling out film that had been caught in the machine. The machine clanked into motion. An inky creature, identifiable as Boris the wolf, fell out of its oversized nozzle moments later and fell to the ground with a splat. Joey approached and helped it up, a look of immense satisfaction on his face. “Well, welcome to the world, Boris.” His tone was gentle and fatherly. Aside from Thomas, who seemingly couldn’t even bring himself to look at the unfolding scene, everyone in the room was awestruck.

The creature looked around, confused and nervous. It held tight to Joey’s hand. Meanwhile, Joey was observing the beast in detail, looking for defects. “Perfect. Oh, don’t shiver. Don’t be scared. I have the perfect place for you to live. With my help, you’re going to make everyone happy.”

The Boris looked at Joey and nodded slightly, seemingly content with the offer. Then all at once, the creature’s demeanour changed. He stared at his paws, and in a panic reached up to feel his ears.

“Oh no. Buddy, is that you?”

The Boris glared at Joey, then grabbed his snout in shock upon realizing that he couldn’t speak.

“Now, Buddy,” Joey began nervously, “It’s okay. I saved-“ he was cut off by a solid blow to the face, knocking him to the ground. The Boris turned and ran in fear. He ran straight into the group, phasing right through Shawn without taking notice. Joey didn’t try running after the Boris, instead just dusting himself off. “So close now,” he whispered, smiling and cupping his now-bleeding face. “Just some personality issues to work out.”

The scene faded back into mist, and the Joey clone went with it.

Nervous chatter rose. “What the Hell was that?!” Lacie demanded, glaring at Joey Drew.

“A... memory.”

“A memory? Oh, sure. You created a living cartoon character out of some weird machine that looks like it belongs in a sci-fi movie. Just tell us why we’re here already.”

Henry felt someone grab his arm. It was Grant. Grant peered over his shoulder to make sure Joey was out of earshot, then whispered “do you have any idea what he wants to do to us?”

Henry shook his head.

Grant’s eyes darted about, and he let go of Henry’s arm. “Sorry. I just thought, since you used to know him well...”

In that moment, a glowing yellow light appeared over Bertrum’s head and the group fell silent. The scene shifted again.

The group was in what appeared to be a circus tent. A much younger Bertrum was there, having his tie adjusted by an older man with matching reddish brown hair. “Now Son,” The man said in deep, serious voice, “this might be your park. Your first park. But remember that it’s reflecting the entire Colossal Wonders dynasty. I don’t want anyone doubting our future, or my abilities as a parent.”

“You know I won’t disappoint!”

The older man patted his shoulder. “You never have.”

“And if this park does well-“

The older man’s face grew stern. “No, Bertrum. I’m not retiring. You will take this empire when I’m dead. Not that you aren't ready. I’m just not sick of this yet.”

“Right. Of course.”

Bertrum stepped out of the tent. To one side of him was a lovely amusement park, complete with games, clowns, roller coasters, and a giant, clown-themed Ferris Wheel, all well-tested and ready for commercial use. To the other side of him, was a crowd, separated from the fun by a gate. As he approached the gate’s entrance, their cheers grew louder, something that clearly delighted the young man. He accepted the ribbon-cutting scissors and drew them towards the ribbon, causing the crowd to roar louder and louder. Then, with a mischievous smile on his face, he stopped and lifted them back up, causing the crowd to fall silent. He repeated the motion twice more, clearly revelling in the control he had over the crowd as their cheers rose and fell with the scissors. Then, he lifted his arms and yelled, “just messin’ with ya, folks!” before cutting the ribbon in a quick motion. The crowd surged forwards, forcing a very proud Bertrum to move out of the way lest he be crushed.

The scene faded back into purple mist.

Bertrum wiped a tear from his eye. “That, I will admit, was a memory,” he said. The group was silent a while, processing the situation.

“So, these are memories,” Henry mused. “I guess the only thing to do is just to watch everyone’s, then.”

“It could be fun,” Joey said. “Why wouldn’t I want to get to know what makes my studio family tick?”

“It is nice to see that you’ve both made such spectacular things,” Allison agreed.

“And it looks like I’m next,” Sammy said, cupping a golden light in his hands.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #my fanfiction #defining memory au #joey drew #bertrum piedmont #joey drew crew

[fleur-de-leap]

Too Old For This

Summary: Double date time! FlashFlood (Oleda x Flash) and ArcticBat ( @duchess-winter‘s oc Anya x Batman) going to a club to get some info. This is longer than I’m used to, and could have been a LOT longer, but I was working on it in spurts over a few days and got kinda tired of it so...yeah

Also, outfits were inspired by this cool shop on Etsy, CoquetryClothing!

“I have...so many regrets right now.” Bruce grumbled, following his fellow League Members into the loud building they’d likely spend at least a few hours within. He did not want to be here at all, wanted nothing to do with this… but they’re trying to get information on a suspect who is known to frequent this location, and instead of using his typical tactics, he was…. Convinced, to try and blend in a little more. 

Which is how he found himself in a club full of people younger than himself, in admittedly less clothing, let alone armor, than felt comfortable. Adjusting the borderline mesh shirt he was wearing, the only saving graces being that it was long sleeve, black, and he had been allowed to wear a blank tank top underneath that was designed with a hood, as strange as the design choice was. Taking a small step to the side to let the others in as he took in his surroundings, trying to adjust to the volume and flashing lights, he kept his head down some with the hood up in attempts to hide his face. While they weren’t in Gotham anymore, he was still recognizable and was trying to blend in somewhat. 

Anya came in after him, a small giggle coming from her that Bruce still picked up on despite everything else, feeling some of the tension leave his muscles. “It’s not that bad. Might even do you some good, to do some recon amongst the people instead of from the shadows.” She retorted to his earlier complaint, gently resting a hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him. 

At the very least, she succeeded in distracting him. She looked absolutely wonderful tonight, even if it wasn’t her typical clothing. A black crop top with a small window and silver trim, and a silver high-low skirt that had so much glitter that it caught every small shift… Bruce wasn’t oblivious to the fact she had worn black as an homage to him and his Batsuit. It was flattering. 

However, his admiration of how gorgeous she was was interrupted by Wally and Daniella following in behind them, Wally having the guts to put an arm around Bruce’s neck and giving him a dazzling grin that could rival his own when he is posing for pictures. “Relaaax, it’ll be fine! Might help you loosen up some too.” He teased, but was quick to let go in favor of spreading his arms out and upward, clearly ‘at home’ here. The music was fast paced, and seemed just his style. Speaking of his style, apparently it doesn’t include ‘subtlety’, based on the fact he’s wearing a black shirt with blue and yellow lightning streaking across it that practically glowed under the club’s lights. Pairing that with a pair of black jeans and red sneakers, anyone with a lick of sense would be able to figure out who he was. 

Daniella rolled her eyes but beamed happily as she followed Wally, seeming just as in her element as him. “Oh, be nice Wally.” She scolded playfully, even lightly slapping his arm. She didn’t really seem to understand subtlety either, however she seemed to get the memo about color coordinating to some degree. She had on a red cropped hoodie with a shimmery gold interior, an obvious homage to Wally’s Flash costume. She had on dark red shorts but with a skirt that matched Wally’s shirt, black with blue and yellow lightning. And heels that could probably kill a man with one good kick, but other than that they seemed impractical. She seemed to know what she was doing, though. 

“While it’s great that we get to check out someplace we can actually enjoy, we’re still on a mission. Keep an eye out for our thief, or any information on him we can get.” She reminded, glancing around the room but already swaying to the music. She was absolutely used to this. 

“I call checking the dance floor!” Wally shouted over the music, already rushing off towards it as quickly as he could without his superspeed. While he may not be the most mature member of the League, he was thankfully good about not using his powers when not in his suit. 

“I’m not letting you have all the fun!” Daniella called after recovering from her surprise, laughing and chasing after him with surprising ease. Batman had to admire women and their ability to maintain their balance on the tips of their toes like that…

Anya was still by his side though, clearly amused by the younger heroes’ antics. “Well Bruce, where do you want to start? Trying to sneak your way to VIP?” She suggested, mimicking him in his survey of the room while avoiding having anyone bump into them by keeping against a wall for now. 

“Honestly, I might go check the bar first. Bartenders pick up more information than you might expect with how busy they are… And I can already tell I’m going to need a drink to survive the night.” He grumbled, giving her hand a small squeeze before letting go and heading that way. Anya was free to do as she pleased, of course, as he had no intention of dragging her around with him. 

Anya took advantage of this freedom by going to do as she had suggested, trying to see if she could flirt some information out of the VIP section about their target. While she may not be happy to be somewhere so… busy, she knew that it was necessary, and thus was able to find the energy to power through. Figuratively, of course. 

After making sure she was at least decently covered, she went up to the guards of the VIP section, batting her eyelashes and trying to play the ‘innocent’ card. 

“Excuse me… I’m trying to find someone, and I was hoping you could help me…” She started, not intimidated in the slightest by the men. Without giving them time to respond, she continued to describe their target. “About yay tall, blonde, brown eyes?” She tried, giving them a hopeful look. 

However, the guards shook their head and asked her to please leave, or present a VIP pass. Well… that was a bust, for now at least. She can try again a bit later, and keep an eye on the area. For now she wandered around some, keeping nearby. She spotted a flash of Wally’s red hair, making her snicker softly. Who knew he could dance?

Wally and Dani had worked their way towards the center of the dance floor, moving with ease amongst the sea of bodies, blending in with the crowd if you weren’t looking specifically for them. Their dancing styles were different, Wally’s focusing on foot work while Dani’s used her whole body, but they worked so well together. It made sense why they gravitated towards each other. Thankfully, they were still on task despite having the time of their lives. Wally was peeking over the top of the crowd and occasionally bent down near someone to ask if they had seen his friend, claiming to have lost track of him, using the same description that Anya had. Dani had to rely more on the asking aspect, smoothly working her way through the crowd as she searched for her ‘friend’, but the two of them were never more than a few people apart. Always within sight of each other. Good. They could keep each other out of trouble. 

So Anya took to looking for Bruce, hoping he was making better progress than they were. He was sitting at the bar already, drink in hand but just… staring at it. That’s not a good sign… Time to see why Bruce was brooding this time. 

Weaving her way through the people of various levels of intoxication, she took a seat on the empty stool next to Bruce, successfully snapping him out of his train of thought. 

“Are you alright?” She asked him softly, leaning closer to make sure he heard nonetheless. Getting a nod in response, she furrowed her eyebrows skeptically before mimicking the famous “Bruce Brood.” Or at least… that’s what she calls it in her head. The expression he makes when he’s thinking really hard about something that’s bothering him, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. Furrowed brows and a deep frown that bordered on a pout, hunched shoulders and arms crossed on the table. 

Feeling his shoulders shaking slightly before even realizing he was chuckling, Bruce shook his head in amusement with a small smirk. “I’m fine, honest. Just wondering how it seems like no one here recognizes our thief… it’s frustrating.” He admitted, his calmer expression replaced by the Bruce Brood again. 

Anya let her own expression relax to her natural thoughtful expression. “Perhaps the lighting makes it harder… or they don’t pay attention to appearances, and focus on names or actions?” She suggested, looking to him to see if he thought it was possible or not. 

“Maybe… but in this kind of place, you’d think people would pay attention to appearances. And he frequents here… Our best option might be to try and wait for him to show up tonight, since he should… but I was hoping to get more information about him like this. Gossip, background, hobbies, interests, anything…” 

“Bruce, please… relax. We’re doing everything we can, but we always manage in the end. It’ll turn out ok. I don’t want you to go stressing yourself grey tonight.” 

The teasing earned her a snort of amusement and another head shake before Bruce took a big sip of whatever drink he had, looking at the glass for a moment before turning his attention to her. “Do you want anything?” 

Anya hummed in thought before nodding. A drink sounds good right about now, and then he won’t be drinking alone. When they flagged down the bartender, she ordered her drink just barely over the volume of the music. He seemed to get it however, nodding and set to putting it together for her. 

“Any idea if Wally and Daniella are having better luck than us?” Bruce asked after a moment, quirking an eyebrow as he focused on her again, taking another sip of his drink. He plans on making it last the entire night, because he doesn’t need to go getting himself drunk while on a mission. 

“Can’t tell. They’re having fun for sure, absolutely surrounded. I’m pretty sure they’re still on task, just enjoying it a little more than we have been.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Relax, Bruce. Let them have their fun. We’re still at the stage of the mission where it’s ok for them, and you know as well as I do that they can step up when they have to. They’re in their element, we can’t expect them to be completely serious. Plus that would just draw attention to them.”

“I know, I know…”

Anya laughed softly in amusement, leaning into his side for a moment. It was a small, brief sign of affection. But it was plenty enough for them right now, since they were out in public. 

After a moment of consideration, Anya got an idea that just might make tonight a little more bearable for the two of them. 

“How about a little deal?”

“A deal…?”

“Once we get done with this mission, we both go back to your place, and have our version of this. Our music, our pace.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, but just the thought of it released some tension from his muscles. Giving her an affectionate smile reserved just for her and finishing his drink much sooner than anticipated, he gave a definitive nod. 

“Deal.”

#leaps drabbles #leap writes #dc #jlu #justice league unlimited #dc oc #dcoc #dcocs #dc ocs #la oleda #oleda #daniella #anya #batman #flash #arctic #bruce wayne #wally west #flashflood #flash flood #arcticbat #text post

[chromium7sky]

The Legend of Gotham| Damirae| Batling| One shot (definitely)

A/n: got inspired by M. Night shyamalan movie call unbreakable. Totally different perspective view and drama superhero. I like it! 😆😆 anyway enjoy! Also dedicated to @dastrigon For drawing me bat damian and commander Lenore. Thank you! 😆😆

Casimir has been a while went to private pre-school, although his father, a billionaire, a philantrophist and also founder of animal shelter in Gotham, prefer him to be home school, his mother insist so that he could learn to socialize.

"Let him learn how to talk to people. " his mother gives out warm smile as she caress her son's cheek.

"Don't pampered him too much, love."

Casimir knew his father actually love him, despite with the serious and stern voice. It radiates from him. Like a wave.

It may sounds a bit crazy but he always felt different. Different from the other kids.

Everytime he sit on his table, he could feel different types of feelings that fill the room but none of them contain sadness, or sick like he always feel at night in his bedroom. Some are from the visitor who float through the walls.

He thought it was normal for a kid to experience that but then, the popular kid along with his friends gives out weird name to address him, like Carpet and the worst nickname he got is Freak kid.

He didn't talk to his parents about the mistreat, he just wants to stay away from drama. Whenever he goes, as soon as he almost meet the popular kid he just vanish and went to another place in his pre school compound, unknowingly. He just shrugged it off as soon as he walk away.

Until on that mid winter, all the kids were in the classroom stayed in the room to feel the warm heater. Casimir where resting his head on his table, felt asleep lulled by the warmth in the room, in a sudden, the front main door knock by a group of men trying to get shelter from the blizzard outside all the student aware about it. One of their home teacher, Ms. Frey went to the door and open it.

It happens so fast. Ms. Frey lying on the floor in a pool of blood. The student who witness the event, panic and quickly lock the door of their room. The men were smirked as the other two close the main door then barricade with lockers that was in the hallway.

Casimir who saw what happen through the small window nearby, shivered. As soon as the men are about to ramped their classroom door, suddenly Casimir jolted and almost thrown the table away from him.

All of his classmate have their eyes on him while he was shivered as if the cold outside hit him, he mumbled about danger is coming. What did he see back then? A dream? But he felt it so real.

He see Ms. Frey in their classroom writing on the board about the books project where they need to read. Casimir has no problem about that since Wayne manor has tons of books. He might read it fast but not as fast as Uncle Wally.

Suddenly he felt sick, like what he felt in the bedroom every night when he confront with the people who walk through the walls but this time, its much worst. Much darker and almost suffocating him.

He walk slowly towards Ms.Frey saying he feel ill. Ms.Frey, smiled give a pat on his head and lead him outside the classroom.

"Billy, you're in charge of the class. I don't want to see any trouble when I'm gone. " Ms.Frey gives out orders.

"Look, the freak is a woosie. Hahaha." Cas could hear the popular kid laughing at the back of the class.

"Come on Casimir, let us go to the nurse office. " as Ms. Frey hold his hand and leading him towards their destination.

As soon as they reaches the room, Ms. Frey put him on the patient bed, checking his body temperature, his tongue and eyes color. His body burn up a bit, so she take out a gel cooler from the drawer and put it on his forehead. "I hope this will cool you down."

Casimir noded and lie on the patient bed.

"Ms.Lucy will come in after she's having her lunch break. Get rest alright, sweetie? " Ms. Frey smiled as she tuck him in with blankets.

As she close the nurse office door, he heard the knock. The same knock he heard in that DREAM.

Cas eyes went agape and quickly to the door. Lucky the door has small window behind the blinds. He took a peek to see what's going on.

It was the same MEN. Cas almost screamed but he close his mouth. He wanted to save Ms. Frey, preventing her from opening the door but it seems things happen like in his dream or vision. She's already on the floor in a pool of blood.

The little boy cried. He then, quickly locked the door and dashed towards the nurse desk as those evil men busy themselves barricade the main door with the lockers.

He found a landline phone and quickly call his home.

"Hello?"

"M.. mommy?? "

"Casimir? What's the matter? Are you okay?

"Mommy, tell Daddy send help... Som-" the line were cut due to the snow storm getting worst.

Casimir were totally speechless. His lifeline has been cut and he could hear the evil men try to broke down the door.

Casimir then try to distract them as he unlocked the door and expose himself. Those ruthless men, turn their attention to him.

"Try to get me, you jerk! "

"Is that Wayne's kid?"

"Oi, don't let him escape! "

"Let who escape?"

A familiar voice he heard from behind.

The men at first look intimidated but then they took out their knife and hand guns.

Casimir almost caught out of breath but he felt a soft hand wrap his shoulder. When he turn looked up, it was his mother, Rachel!

"Mom, how did you-"

"Stand back, Cas. " Rachel pulled her son behind her.

"Mommy, no! They are dangerous!!" Cas screamed as he was afraid those men might hurt her like they hurt Ms.Frey.

Two guys at the back held their guns toward her.

"Noooo!!! " Cas were dreaded.

But he didnt heard the gunfire as the gun were unravel, like jigsaw puzzle on the floor.

The gunners petrified with the unexpected event. The leader seems pissed, took a step forward, assault the woman.

Rachel push his son aside as she locked the armed man by his elbow and throw him over her shoulder.

Two man come to her at once as she swipe kick to the left side and sidekick on the right side.

The down man with knife manage to grab her ankle but she slammed her elbow along with her weight on that man's face which she manage to knock him out a couple of teeth.

As the gunners pull out their tactic blades, Casimir tried to warn his mother. But it seems both of them frozed as they heard the loud thud behind them.

Never in his life, Casimir would see a dark figure stood tall behind the bad guys. With horn-like head, is that the devil? Wait, he looks familiar.

"Batman? " his mother muttered under breath as she sit up.

Batman! The legend of gotham he heard when he was a baby. He taught it was a ghost tale when his mother told him but now the legend come to save him, save them.

He felt some unusual wave from his mother, like affection some sort like the way he felt when his mother with his father. Wait, his mother love batman?! But how about his father?!

The dark knight beating the bad guys like the bat flapped their wings sending them fly away. In a blink of an eye, all the bad guys where lying and groaning in pain. Some of them unconcious.

"Woah... " Casimir were astonished with dark hero's skill.

Rachel got up and walk towards Batman.

Casimir quickly hold her hand. " Mom, no! He might be dangerous! " his eyes shows his fear. Rachel smiled then kiss his forehead and she went to the dark knight.

He felt dark wave around the dark knight almost covered the big man himself.

However, as soon as his mother came to him the dark wave begin to dissipated, the warm aura from his mother seems to connect with the Dark Knight. What is happening?

"You were reckless. " Batman muttered as he inspected Rachel's body.

"I was worried about my son." she slapped playfully on his bat logo. Then, she stole a kiss from him.

"Mommy!! "

Both Rachel and Dark Knight look at the confused boy.

"Why... How about Dad?! " Casimir was confused.

"Beloved, I think we need to explain this to Casimir. " Batman went to the little boy.

"Wait, how to you know my name? " Cas stuttered as the dark hero put a pat on his back, then Cas felt familiar with his aura.

"D-dad? "

The vigilante smiled and embrace the boy.

"But... But... " as Cas pulled himself from his father.

"But what, son? "

"But you kiss Raven! You've cheated Mom?! " as Casimir recall the legend of gotham story.

Damian almost choke up as he heard his child accusion.

Rachel chuckled as she sees her husband reaction. Damian glared at his wife for laughing at him.

"Casimir, actually I am Raven. The Queen of darkness," as she demonstrate her dark aura on her hand.

Speechless as he saw in front of his eyes, the famous vigilante are his parents.

"Beloved, I've already alarmed Commissioner Grayson about this. " Damian looked at his pop up screen from his arm.

"Is Ms.Frey okay? " Cas still concern about his teacher who has been hurt as he witness before.

"I've already check the pulse and done some laser stitching towards her wound. She should be stabilize. " Damian press a couple of button then shut the pop screen.

"And Cas? "

"Yes, dad? " as Cas calmed down from the shock news today.

"We'll explain as soon as we come home. "

Casimir can feel his calm and relief aura from his voice, probably they been keep the secret for too long.

Perhaps it is time for him and his sibling to know the origin the legend of Gotham.

Bonus:

#damirae #damian wayne #raven #demonbirds #art #dc #fanart #batman #robin #artwork #damian x raven #robrae #batling #damian raven #artist on tumblr #damianxraven #artist on instagram #damirae kids #casimir wayne #unbreakable #sometimes mii channel music #procreate #with bonus #artist on twitter #rachel roth #bat damian #mama bear raven

[zelink-nalu]

Not a monster part 1

A/N: So this takes place about 2 years after Inky's "Birth" and this is basically how Tom actually realised that Inky wasn't really a monster and was actually harmless.

Also... WOW! Would ya look at that! I made fic this time! I'm also going to ask you to be gentle with me because it's the first time that I'm making a story, and since I'm already bad at writting in French, this bound to be not very good.

Now... Enough with that and let's get on with that story, shall we?

_______________________________________________

???'s POV.

Why... Why did they do this to me?

I don't understand... Did I do something wrong?

Whatever I did, I promise I won't do this again!

So please... Someone... Anyone... Please, let me out of here...

It hurts... It hurts so much.

Thomas' POV.

'Why am I the one who has to do this?' Tom asked himself for what felt like the thosandth time.

Earlier, while he was fixing a broken pipe with Wally, one of his coworkers from Gent came to him and told him that Mr. Drew needed him for something important. 'What does that man want from me?' the head mechanic thought. So he went to the boss' office to know what did he want.

"Alright Mr. Drew, what is it that you need me for?" Tom asked.

"I want you to go dow to the Main Ink Machine and visit that abomination you and the other gus at Gent create. Don't worry! I made sure that it can't harm anyone!" he quickly added when he noticed the other man's worried face. "But I still want you to check if it hasn't tried to escape and pour this on it and it's chains." Joey handed him a bottle full of a strange liquid.

"What's it for?" he asked, not really sure if he even wanted to know the answer.

"It's a 'warning'. It's too make that demon doesn't get any idea of trying to escape. I made it myself! It's a mixtur-" he stopped listening after that.

Now he was at the massive entrance of the machine. His heart was pounding from the fear and aprehansion he was feeling. He hesitated for a moment and looked through the glass at the sides of the door. He saw the ink making the silhouette of the studio's main star in one of them. The silhouette was perfectly on-model.

He took a deep breath then turned back to the door. His hand was hovering over the lever that would open the door of the demon's prison. "Don't worry! I made sure that it can't harm anyone!" Joey's words kept playing in his head like a broken record player and he couldn't help wondering, how exactly did his colleages manage that. I mean last time he checked, that creature was about 8 feet tall (maybe even taller), clawed hands and  had huge strong looking black wings with claws at each!

After a few seconds of hesitation, he finally decided to pull the lever, his curiosity getting the best of him, and entered the big room but stopped imediately in his track at what he saw.

"Don't worry! I made sure that it can't harm anyone!"

Yeah... No shit...

Now he understood how they managed to keep it at bay. The demon was pratically surrounded by chains! It was forced to sit on a throne-like chair by chains going through its shoulders, hands and feet(or are they hooves?). There were chains going around him and the chair, keeping the wings tightly folded behind it. The thing only that could move was the demon's spaded tail.

But the worst part was the shackle around its neck.

Several small bars penetrated its neck to keep the shackle in place. Tom winced at the sight. No wonder why he was hearing a ragged breathing! It must be difficult to breath properly with a blocked airway. It was a miracle the demon could still breath!

While he was approaching, he noticed movement from the creature.

It... It was trembling and flinching, from the pain of its wounds rubbing on the shackles, at the same time.

At first the man thought it because of the pain but when he noticed that the closer he came, the more the slight trembling became a horrible shaking, how it was trying to make itself as small as possible and was just a whimpering, melting, shaking mess, it was easy to see that it was from fear. Even its face showed absolute terror. Which was surprisingly very expressive for being half covered in ink.

Saying that Tom was confused would be a huge understatement. He just couldn't comprehend the fact that the demon in front of him would be afraid of an average man like him. It was clear to him that this creature could tear him to shreds if it wasn't chained. The fact that it seemed afraid of him made it very disturbing too. It meant that it was capable of feeling human emotions, which should not be possible! Hell it shouldn't even exist!

But... It -no he - does... And right now, he was like a terrified child.

'Oh god...' Tom thought when he realised something. 'He is a just a child' The realisation made him sick. This meant that they locked and chained a child. And they did that just because he wasn't perfect.

He looked back at the demon and saw that the trembling and the terrified look lessened,

and was replaced by a curious and maybe concern too. Tom really hopped that the last one was only his imagination. Because he sure as hell didn't deserve that.

The mechanic sighed deeply and was about to rub his face from the exhaustion of the day, 

until he heard a croaked whine. When he looked at where the sound came from he saw that the inky kid was back to shaking horribly.

He then remenmbered the bottle that Joey gave him. When he raised the hand that was gripping the bottle, the demon began shaking and whining more.

'Why is he so terrified of this?' he asked himself. He then tried to remember what Joey said about it. It was something about it being a 'warning' and that he should 'pour it on the demon and on his chains'. He sighed, this didn't answer his question...

His eyes widened when he remembered a part of Joey's explaination he was sure he stopped listening to.

'-it's a mixture of acetone and Holy Water. I found out that, while the acetone unfortunately doesn't kill it, it does seem to affect it! Quite painfully might I add!' he smiled with glee at that. 'And I'm sure don't have to explain the Holy Water.'

Tom felt he was going to throw up. This... This was sick!

He wanted to throw that instrument of torture as far away as possible! But he knew that the sudden movement and noise might scare the poor kid more. Besides, Joey would ask about it if he came back without it. So he decided to do something else.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you." he said softly and hopefully reassuringly, while backing away slowly. The demon was loking at him curiously and perplexed but least he calmed down a bit. When the man was satisfied by the distance, he opened the bottle and poured the content on the ground. After all, Drew would expect him to come back with an empty bottle.

Now the demon seemed so surprised that he completely stopped shaking. Tom decided that it was better this way.

He then slowly walked back to the demon trying to be as less intimidating as possible and when the ink creature flinched he stopped and said: "It's okay kid. The bad water is gone now and, like I said earlier, I ain't gonna' hurt you." After a few minutes, he took tentative step and when the demon didn't react, he walked closer until he was a feet away from him and slowly and carefully put his hand on the demon's head, between his horns. The demon leaned to the touch and even purred softly (at least as well as he could with a blocked airway) when Tom began petting him.

"You're just a big cat, ain't ya?" he chuckled. But his warm smile was quickly replaced by a frown. Now that closer he could clearly how his inky skin tried to close the wounds but ended up closing on the shakles. 'This looks painful' he thought. He then noticed that the demon has fallen asleep.

He smiled softly and decided that it was time for him to go. So he picked up the empty bottle and went back to Joey's office. When he entered the office, he had a hard time keeping his composure.

"So... Did you do it?" Joey asked with an unreadable face. Tom knew he couldn't trust his voice to not betray him, so he decided to just put the empty bottle on the table, a bit too harshly. Joey only glanced at it for half a second. Then smiled, looking disturbingly happy, and exclaimed:

"Excellent! This will your other job. Once a week I'll call you to my office and give you another bottle and you'll do the same thing as today. What do you think Tommy?" Again, not trusting his voice, he just shrugged.

"Fantastic! You can go now, you're dismissed." He said while waving the mechanic off dismissively.

When Tom went back upstairs, he was tackled by his worried wife. He hugged her but decided not to tell her the actual Truth when she asked him where he was all this time, so he just told her that Joey needed him for something related to the Ink Machine. She frowned but, thankfully, didn't question it.

Next Week he'll ask the inky demon some questions.

Huh. 'Inky' actually suits him, maybe he should call him that.

_____________________________________________

Whew! Finally done with the first part of this story!

Hope you liked it!

And a little reminder, I'm French and I'm still learning English! So if there are any errors, please point them. I promise I won't mind since I'll need that to improve my English!

So see ya in the next chapter! Buh bye!

#Wingless au #Wingless fic #prequel #thomas connor #joey drew #Inky #my batim au #Allison Connor #random Gent worker #Nalu writes

[imagineyoungjustice]

What’s Left Unsaid (Wally West & Daughter!Reader)

Hey, Terra! I got one for you!! “Are you satisfied with the mess you’ve created out of me?” Father! Wally West & Daughter! Reader? Heheheheheheheheheh. If not, I completely understand, dude. Thank you either way. Happy Writing! - @teen-titans-imagines

Oh look I got something done. Anyway I tried something new again so as always constructive criticism is welcome! Also I made the reader the daughter of Wally and Artemis so I didn’t have to mess around and waste time messing with the canon. I hope you guys enjoy! -Terra

Tag List: @scientistsarecool @loverbug1123 @wallywestie @aworldwideapart

Want to be added to our tag list? Send us an ask!

Warnings: Angst, character death, depression, blood,

           “Are you satisfied with the mess you’ve created out of me?” Your words still thrummed in his mind, it’s echoes bouncing off the walls of him mind making them grow ever louder until he couldn’t hear anything else, couldn’t think about anything else. At the moment of utterance, a mess you were. Tears were streaking down the sides of your face, your breathing ragged and your voice cracking with every word. Your costume was disheveled, matching the state of your hair. A mess you were, but he still thought you beautiful, as any parent should of their child. His heart had shattered at the meaning in your sentence. Where had he gone so wrong? How could he have failed you so much?

           You had been gone by the time he had been able to answer, only setting off his panic. The last thing he wanted was for you to be alone now, you needed him, you needed to fix the relationship between the two of you. Wally knew well how reckless one could be in the face of rampant emotions, how dangerous it was for you, and how easily it could mean your demise. He needed to find you before that happened. He needed to make things right with you.

           You, for your part, threw yourself into any and every fight that came your way. The thought of staying home after your argument and subsequent confession had become too much to bear. You needed to feel something other than the depression which afflicted you, and the anger you felt at those who preyed upon the weak at night was just the kind of distraction you needed. With each punch, each kick, each sound of cracking bone beneath your blows you pushed the argument with your father further and further from your mind.

           Crack-

           It wasn’t your fault your mother died when you were little.

           Crack-

           Just because you are similar to her in some ways doesn’t mean you were her

           Crack

           Couldn’t he see how much it hurt you to be constantly compared to someone you barely knew and who he held on such a high pedestal? How much pressure your father put on you to live up to her name when the standards were well out of your league to begin with?

           Crack-

           Couldn’t he see that you were trying to be the best that you could be?

           Crack-

           Couldn’t he see everything you sacrificed just so you could be the daughter he wanted you be?

           Crack-

           Couldn’t he see that everything you did was because you just wanted your father’s approval, and that you weren’t even sure if he loved you?

           Crack-

           Why couldn’t he just love you for who you were?

           Bang-

           You were stopped dead in your tracks. Your head turned to look over your shoulder in what seemed like slow motion. Your eyes were met with the smoking barrel of a fired gun, the person holding it having had escaped your attention. You took a step forward, but the thug fired again, and you collapsed to the ground. Your hands went to your stomach and came back a dark crimson. You could feel more and more of it pooling around your body, but you just lay there, staring at your hands with a blank expression, your mind not quite comprehending the situation.

           Off in the distance of your consciousness, you heard the thug step over you. He was gone before long, a hissed “shit” escaping his mouth as he saw your teenaged form bleeding out on the ground. He bolted, knowing that killing a child, especially a child superhero would bring down a wrath that no small-time criminal would ever dare to be caught up in.

           Finally tearing your gaze from your hands, your eyes drifted up to the sky. Most of it was blocked by the tall buildings on either side of the alleyway, but you focused as best you could on the small sliver that you could see. You knew you were dying, but everything felt numb and distant to you right now. Your problems, the things you were looking forward to doing, all seemed to fade into the background. You existed purely in the moment, your vision beginning to fade in and out. But you focused on that small bit of night sky.

           You didn’t want to leave your father behind, you didn’t want to die, but it was beyond you and what you wanted. You were dying. There was nothing you could do to change that, not even if your father knew where to find you would he be able to save you in time. You didn’t want to leave, but you knew that you were going to. So you kept your gaze upwards, and wondered if you would finally meet your mom. Maybe you would ask her if you did good, if your father was proud of you, if she was proud of you, if she loved you.

           Tears slipped from your eyes. The light pollution from the city kept the stars hidden from your view, but you took comfort in knowing that they were up there, that if there was a heaven that you’d be able to see your mom again. You let yourself go, and kept your gaze on that small sliver of sky until your heart stopped.

           It would be hours after your death when your father found you, and when he did he fell to his knees over your body. He hugged you close, whispering about how he would take everything back if he could, how he loved you, how sorry he was that he pushed so much onto you, how he just wanted you to be the best you could be and how he was sorry that it became so misguided along the way. He whispered all those things that you wished you would hear from him, he whispered his regret about how he was too late to say them to your face.

           He just hoped that you could hear him from wherever you were now, and that you and Artemis would keep each other safe until he could see the two of you again.

#Wally West #Kid Flash #wally west x reader #kid flash x reader #daughter!reader #wally west x daughter!reader #kid flash x daughter!reader #Young Justice #Angst #Drabble #the 'x' is not meant to imply any romantic pairing between them #I'm not nasty in that way #but I wasn't sure how else to tag it

[that-fandom-sucks-tho]

Circuits of the Heart

Title: Chapter 1: Just Look Up What a Hug is Okay?

Warnings: Small amount of swearing

Summary: Circuit (code name) is the newest member at Mount Justice and your first meeting with the team. Interactions with humans are hard especially if your brain is a computer and your technokinesis only allows you to connect with technology. And especially if one of those people is Nightwing.

A/N: So um this is my reintroduction into writing. This is an old idea I stumbled across because of nostalgia. It can be read as Nightwing x reader/ OC because only the characters code name is used. It's a slow burn so not too much romance touchy feely stuff. Umm like this if you want more because this is only like 6 pages of the 11 I have so far. (I just didn't know where to split it so it kinda just ends)

Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7 Chapter 8

I entered feeling more nervous than ever. Batman was to my side and basically dragging me along to the training area.  He said that was where most of my new teammates were. I was in my new costume, it was a metallic gray color with purple and yellow trim.  It helped me to better connect with technology because of its a metallic inlay and magnetized fingers. Before all of this I didn’t have a special suit or a special name.   I was just a girl who liked to play with computers. I was just the hacker girl trying to figure my way into the Wayne Enterprises computer system.

Now I was a girl being dragged by Batman through mount justice to meet a bunch of people I didn’t really want to.  It is not like I hadn’t thoroughly searched through my new teammates background and history; I knew everything about everyone and probably some things even they didn’t know about themselves.  So when I saw Artemis's green suit my mind immediately began to swim with sportsman, cheshire, and tigress, etc. I hadn’t meant to but I put Artemis’ entire life into graphs and numbers.

“ Hi I’m-”

“Artemis number B07 one of the newer members of the team besides Zatanna and now me.  Age 19.”

Artemis just stared and then laughed “ Hey Wonder Boy we’ve got a new you on the team.”

Though Batman was my mentor I hadn’t yet met any of his other prodige. Batman said it was because I wasn’t really part of the bat fam.  Which I tried to pretend didn’t hurt but it did a little bit. Sure I had actual powers but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t belong with them.

“I told you not to call me that or I’d call you Mrs. West.”  A tall boy with black hair turned and said this. I recognized Nightwing immediately from the hours of research I did.  He had his signature black and blue suit and domino mask.

Artemis yelled and lunged but a girl with green skin (probably Miss Martian) held her back. “You are so luck Wally’s not here and M’gann is or you’d have an arrow to the jugular.” Artemis said with a cool glare. Then Nightwing turned to face you.

“Hi the name is Nightwing.  Not Wonder Boy.” He winked from under his mask.

“No your real name is Di-”  I started.

“Woah woah lets not let that slip.”  Intervened Batman hastily.

Nightwing looked shocked that I might know his real name.  “How in the world could you know my real name?”

“It’s part of my powers.”

“I thought you had a way with technology not fortune telling.” Nightwing joked still staring at me intently.  I shifted under his gaze suddenly feeling like he could see my circuits.

“No I can hack any database, write any algorithm, and program any tracker I need. Finding out who you are was easier than hacking NASA, the Pentagon, and the NSA at the same time.”

“Well my new team mate that is quite impressive I am sure you will be a valuable asset to us.”  For some reason that made me blush. I had never had such a strong reaction to a person. Being a tech mutation made people all that much more confusing and incompatible to my brain.

I immediately took two steps back and added the peculiar reaction to my database on Dick Grayson. I turned to face M’gann.

“Hello M’gann B05 from the now deceased planet Mars.” M’gann smiled and offered no other reaction to my greeting.

“You can just call Megan and I am so excited for you to join this team and become part of our little family.” Megan went in for a hug but I didn’t understand the movement. Stiff and confused and awkward I just stood there as Megan wrapped her arms around me.

“What is it that you are doing? Is this a normal human social interaction?” I inquired in a clipped tight voice. My eyes were wide and were looking at my fellow teammates. Most were trying to hold in their amused laughs.

Megan quickly let go and stared at me in shock.

“You don’t know what a hug is?”

“Well I know theoretically what a hug is. It is the joining of two bodies in an embrace. Is that what you were trying to accomplish?” At my mentioning ‘the joining of two bodies’ the whole team burst into laughter. When I heard Nightwing laughing I felt a heated rush to the apples of my cheeks.

Again with this strange reaction to him. I was going to have to investigate this further.

“Well, um, kind of… I guess?” Megan responded with confusion.

“As much fun as it is to see teenagers fumble with social interactions, I’d like to help settle Circuit  so she can get started as quickly as possible” Batman motioned for me to follow him to the housing arrangement he had set up for me.

Growing up in a lab that doesn’t exist anymore means I don’t have a lot of places to stay. Walking down the hallway that is an odd amalgamation of metal and rock, I sorted through my internal memory to find the schematics of Mount Justice. Hacking the system was pretty easy and my first mission will be to change that.

Batman showed me to my room and informed me that my boxes had been delivered earlier and that I should unpack my belongings and try again to interact with the team.

“Look I know that your childhood was, less that optimal in the interacting with humans part, but you have an infinite memory and can learn anything you download so just, look up what a hug is” Batman said before turning with a dramatic swish of his cape.

I turned to face my door. There was a lock on the door and I realise I wasn’t given a key or passcode. These were the moments that my powers came in handy. I had technokinesis and while in the lab they turned my brain into a computer. Basically by touching any technology I could control and interact with it. From hacking to controlling weaponry, as long as it had a microchip it was mine to mess with. The brain part, while a little messed up, meant my body acted more like an interface for a motherboard rather than organs. It also meant that the memories stores in my old brain were no longer mine. I has no idea what my life was before the lab.

I reached out and touched the keypad. Instantly I felt the connection and how the electronic was just waiting for my command. Technology was a living and breathing being to me. I felt the pulse of its electricity and how it spoke to me in binary. Closing my eyes I told the little box to open up for her. It immediately flashed ‘open’.

Walking through the threshold I took in my new living quarters. A single twin bed was pushed off into a corner. Three walls were the metal that outfited the volcano hideout and the other wall was the volcanic rock. A desk with a computer was off to my right. Just from looking at it I could tell it was inferior to my needs. I’d have to make improvements. As Batman had said my boxes were already in the room. I didn’t have much so packing would not take me long.

By the time I was done the room hadn’t really changed. There was a new pillow on the bed and the desk was now covered in random computer parts that I has been experimenting on. The closet that had only contained a thin layer of dust now had my few outfits. I decided that this was as good as it was gonna get and that I should greet the rest of the team. Hopefully with less awkwardness. I followed Batman’s instructions and downloaded basic interaction procedures. Hugs, hands shakes, and common greetings were apart of this new information. Sifting through it would take a while so I just add the protocols to my programming.

Using the schematics I found the kitchen/ living room. Sitting on the couch playing video games were Kid Flash and Nightwing. Kaldur was on the adjacent loveseat with a book. Megan and Superboy were sitting on the stools along the kitchen counter talking.     As I walked in the group turned to look at me. Locking onto my newly learned social interaction protocols I stepped forward to greet some of the new members. Kaldur was the person that was closest to me so I walked up to him first.

“Hello Kaldur B02. I am offering my hand for the customary human greeting” I held my hand out to shake Kaldur’s. My movements were sharp and choppy but the general idea was there.

“Ah yes that is the customary greeting and it is nice to meet you Circuit.” Kaldur laughed light heartedly.

“Thank you, I downloaded basic human interactions since I messed up meeting Megan,“ I looked over at Megan in embarrassment, “human’s social interactions still vex me but I’m working on it.”

“You said ‘human’ as though you are not one. Are you not human?” Kaldur questioned.

I could tell that the rest of the team was also expecting the answer. I took a second to ponder the question.

“Well, genetically I am of a human species but,“ I paused trying to figure out how to put the next part of my sentence, “ my brain is now a computer and there are parts of me that contain circuits. Would you count that as human or something else?”

They all sat and puzzled the question I had proposed. It seemed that no one had an answer. A sudden breeze and a whooshing sound were accompanied by an arm around my shoulder.

“Whatever you are you’re hot and I’ll help you with all the ‘interactions’ you want.” The red headed Wally West stated, a smirk he assumed was smooth was plastered on his face.

“I do not believe that I have a fever. My internal alarm would have told me and the temperature of this room is at 69 degrees. So my outer temperature is also at baseline.” I rattled off with a confused expression.

Wally’s confidence was now shattered due to the misunderstanding of his compliment and the fact that he would no have to spell it out for me. Trying to pick up the pieces he continued on.

“No, um, I meant that you are attractive. Like your appearance.”

“Oh, well I have no protocols for that but we can participate in a hug if you wish?”

“Boy would I-” Wally was cut off by Nightwing shoving him to the side. He turned and glared at Wally.

“Dude leave the poor girl alone, she doesn’t understand and we don’t need you to corrupt her.”  He lectured as Wally rubbed where he had hit his head. Wally sat up grumbling.

“I was just gonna hug the girl geesh.”

Nightwing turned and faced you with an apologetic look.

“Sorry about that he hasn’t learned his manners yet.”

Nightwing put his hand on the small of my back and glided me over to where Superboy and Megan were.

“This is Superboy and you already met Megan.”

Superboy greeted my in a grunt and head nod. I nodded back and smiled. This was my favorite meeting, quick and simple, no mess human things.

“So now that you have met the whole team just get comfortable and make yourself at home.” Nightwing offered a smile that made my stomach feel fluttery. Again these symptoms were peculiar to me.

#young justice #nightwing #nightwing imagine #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson #wally west #artemis #m'gann #superboy #miss martian #dc imagine #dc x reader #aqualad #kaldur'ahm #zatanna #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #robin x reader #robin imagine #young justice imagine #young justice invasion

[randomwriteronline]

A head sprouted from lavander blossoms, hair surrounding the emaciated face like a muddy halo. It stared in front of itself for a minute before disappearing in the fragrant purple mass.

With a rustle the tall stems parted to let the langly body emerge and stand still, casting a long, thin shadow on the man under the lone tree facing the field.

Willy looked up and smiled, a hand shielding his eyes from the harsh sunlight.

“What brings you here?”

“My feet.”

“Do you have no power over them?”

“If I go walking, no, I don’t.”

“And so you just sort of find yourself accidentally crossing an entire field of lavander with no idea what you’re doing or where you’re going.”

“It happens.”

The sitting man laughed, patting the ground next to him as an invitation. Eska plopped to his side like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“Did you grow it?”

“Yup. Did a pretty good job, didn’t I?”

“Hm.”

How weird, that such an unenthusiastic response could be almost better than the most sincere of compliments.

They didn’t move for what felt like hours. It was just the two of them, relaxing under a tree’s shade, looking over a field of beautifully purple flowers that buzzed quietly with every breath of breeze washing over them.

It was a really nice day.

And Willy felt fine.

“You’re so quiet today.” he breathed, a bit of a cackle sliding in.

Of course he was quiet. Eska was always quiet, he talked so little. He just hummed or grunted or hissed or...

... or kept completely silent, without answering at all.

Willy looked to his side.

Eska wasn’t there.

God. No. Not this. Not again.

He stood up: “Eska?” he called. The messy head wasn’t anywhere over the flowers.

A weak sound echoed far away in the stagnant calm. It sounded like a soft bark. A dog? What is it doing here, why is it here, is it him? He listened again. Yes, there, it repeated.

Willy dashed towards it, stems ungracefully departing from one another to create a path to the noise.

The source laid in the middle of the plants, limbs spread in abandon through the lavander, eyes up to the sky. His head shifted slightly as his breathless friend came into vision, short curls pending on him and a relieved expression.

“You found me.”

"... heh. S... Sure did...”

The freckled man fell on the ground and laid down right next to Eska, inhaling deeply to fill his needy lungs with the oxygen he neglected while running.

“Please... Never do that again. I got worried.”

Eska kept looking at the sun and didn’t say a word. He waited until his friend’s chest regained its natural rising and falling rhythm before turning to him with the most serious eyes he’d ever had.

“I have to ask you a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

No answer.

Willy followed him to an unkept corner of what seemed like a massive garden. He looked around disoriented; so focused on the bony spine almost poking out of the clothes right in front of him, he hadn’t paid attention to the trip itself.

The area felt familiar in a way he couldn’t quite place.

Between the tall shallow blades of grass stood a number of small slabs of some sort of stone. Every one of them had a word clumsily carved onto it in an unstable penmanship that made the already hard job of understanding the writings almost absolutely impossible. He still kneeled, doing his best to decipher the closest one.

“Po... Pom-me-dee...”

“Pomme-de-terre.” Eska corrected him, not even looking, and placed a thoughtful caress on the plate before walking past it.

His hand brushed over each of the slabs, accompanied by his constantly cracking voice muttering. Hampaat, Carmen, Luva, Hníf, Azúcar, Riba, Kirbes, he listed softly with every fond pat he left on them.

Once he passed them he stood perfectly silent for a little, back overlooking the small stone forest.

Finally he sat down and sighed.

Willy walked up to him and took a seat at his side. On the horizon, bigger chunks of stone went trailing away from sight, one behind the other in orderly lines. He let out a weak ‘oh’.

That’s where they were.

“What were they?” Willy murmured. He feared raising his voice would have angered those sleeping beneath the ground.

“Ferret, croc, Steller’s jay, racoon, lynx, ram rabbit, otter, deer.”

“You had a deer?”

“Hm.”

The darker man nodded, slightly embarassed by his question. It felt like the only thing he could do.

Eska’s hand grabbed his absent-mindedly, without a real purpose. Details of a life he didn’t want to know began creeping up Willy’s arm like an amry of ants.

He tried focusing on the soft pressure of the palm.

It felt warm.

Real.

Like something Eska sort of seemed like he could have never been.

All of a sudden, Willy remembered: the favor. That’s why they were there. Why he’d brought him there. Though asking about it like that, almost out of the blue, felt somewhat wrong. He waited for Eska to start speaking instead, hoping his friend hadn’t forgotten about it.

The masked head fell on his shoulder softly.

“I want to stay next to them.” the hushed voice crackled.

“I want you to put me down, next to them.”

“Y... You make it sound like me outliving you is a fact.”

Silence filled the small gaps between them with an immense distance, oozing of a terrifying certainty.

“I will.” Willy assured with his quietest whisper.

Eska simply wrapped him in his langly arms and rubbed his forehead on his shoulder, mimicking a grateful purr. Just like a magician, he pulled a small bunch of lavander out of one of his pockets, offering it to Willy.

“You’re not giving it to them?” he inquired, pointing to the tombs behind them.

The other just pushed the flowers closer to him.

Willy thought for a second, biting his lower lip. “So these are... If I wanna visit... W-well, there’s...”

A puffy exhale: “Wanna go meet my dad?”

Silence agreed.

Willy tried imagining what his father’s reaction might have been at the sight of a langly skull-masked figure seemingly spawned directly from hell next to his son, looking over to the carved marble that spelled out his name as he placed the flowers at his feet.

Maybe he would have laughed about it. Or he would have tried to politely push whatever that thing was out of their lives.

But the boy was quiet and had some kind of manners, and Willy felt fine around him, so...

Then again, he was Eska.

Which meant he was more than able to terrify someone with a single glare. And Papa Franks’ trust would have flown out of the window as soon as his eyes would have laid upon him.

Eska hunched over to the tombstone, looking as if he was trying to read.

“Rupert Franks.” Willy helped him.

The other didn’t say a word and kept still.

They didn’t speak for a while, listening to each other’s breath, the breath of the only two beings alive in a cemetery as big as a whole world.

Willy lowered his head and looked at his shoes.

“Y’know, one time...” he began, unsure of why he suddenly felt like sharing something with the friendly demon, "One time we went to a wood. A small forest. We knew it... Pretty well, I think.

We were walking, and it was hot, and, and Wally started to not feel well. Dad helped him get better... and I tried to, too. I really did... but... Oh, nevermind. Long story short, I screwed up."

He could feel the heterochromatic glance burning on his skin, but no words filled the air.

Just a breath so soft it felt unreal.

He swallowed.

“We should be going.”

It wasn’t even evening.

They walked side by side, quiet, silence screaming in Willy’s ears so loudly he could feel them on the brink of bleeding. It was the right thing, what he deserved, he kept rummaging in his mind. He had told him something he shouldn’t have let himself tell and now neither of them was willing to talk about it, or about litteraly anything else. It didn’t matter. It was fine. He just regretted boring him. But what’s done is done.

“You didn’t.”

Eska’s feet dragged on the sidewalk. He never wore shoes, did he?

“ ‘I didn’t’ what?”

“Tell it to me. Please.”

Like he never finished a thought before starting a new one.

“I’ll tell you about them.”

Maybe he just had a terrible sense of timing.

“You start.”

The masked head bent backwards, neck creaking as he remembered.

“Pomme-de-terre was brown. Soft and clever. Long, like a snake with fur. Liked to sneak and dig holes in the ground. Once he went away. Came back a couple of weeks later. Had a ring of gold and stones. We sold it and got the mattress. Pomme-de-terre was really clever.

Haampat was old. Slow. It hurt to chew, so she ate lots once every two months. She let me ride on her back. Scared a lot of people like that. But she was very nice. Very quiet. Curled around me at night. All the sheets were only for her. Haampat was cold easily.

Carmen couldn’t sing. Only scream. Yelled when he got lonely. Climbed my back and stayed clutched there. I had to sleep on my stomach. He learnt to say my name. Was smart. And loud. Called me all day. Carmen was very lonely.

Luva cleaned all the food. Always. Was busy cleaning it all day. For everyone. Grabbed everything I gave him and cleaned it. I loved watching him do that. He was very careful. Very clean. Never cleaned me. Luva was too small for that.”

His amber eye turned to Willy.

Your turn, it whispered encouragingly.

The janitor nodded, eyes to the ground as he picked up his recollection from where he’d left it.

“So, well... Wally wasn’t feeling well at all. At one point he passed out, and we freaked out. Dad asked me to get him some water, and I did, but to be honest, I... I was about to faint too. But I didn't tell them. I forced myself to stay awake.

I was scared that they wouldn't care if I fainted, or that they would worry. I didn't want them to worry for me.

So, instead, I got Wally the water, and Dad helped him get better. And then we went back home and there I blacked out. I woke up feeling sicker than I’d ever been. Still, I didn't tell anyone. Wally only found out because he saw me throw up, and got mad at me for hiding my problems.”

A tired smile crept its way onto the freckled face: “I guess some things never change.” he muttered.

Eska hummed.

Your turn, incited Willy’s silence.

He scratched his neck and resumed his tales.

“Hníf groomed me. Night and day. Woke up at random and groomed me. Licked all my hair and arms and neck. Never stopped. Purred everytime she did. But it was nice. And she liked when I pet her. Protected me. Even when she was old. Hníf was sweet.

Azúcar was really small. Like a grain of sugar. Ate in a funny way. Tried to fight a lot of things, even though he was so tiny. Broke a paw once. I don’t think bunnies do that usually. He looked lovely. Azúcar was really soft, too.

Riba left everyday to get fish. Loved fish. Only wanted to eat fish. Refused everything that wasn’t fish. At least I learnt how to cook it. He smelled bad and was always a little wet. Didn’t care. Kept asking me to pat him. Really liked that. Riba was so affectionate sometimes.

Kirbes didn’t trust me. Not completely. Was always a little suspicious. Didn’t listen to me. I gave her food and let her be. She slept a lot. I had her just a month. In winter. She couldn’t stand up.”

His voice faded as the last sentence escaped his lips: “Kirbes was very sick.”

They didn’t even notice they stopped walking.

What was all of this about, again?

It was about telling each other of something they wouldn’t have told anybody. All because they paid a visit to mr. Franks and Willy had slipped part of a story. All because Eska asked to be buried in his own pet cemetery and had flowers. All because they had met by accident under a tree in front of a lavander field.

The Sun was still warm above their heads.

In the end, they had done nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Just talk, walk, sit.

Ignore the feeling of sunrays on their skin.

Eska reached for Willy’s hand, deviating his train of thought. His skinny finger brushed softly against his knuckles.

“There’s no snow now.”

“You didn’t screw up.”

Late words like turning gears that don’t match, stubbornly trying to rotate and make their engine work somehow despite not being built to go together.

The two of them started walking again. It was quiet. Willy understood what Eska meant when he said he had no power over his feet.

There was maybe just... a last question.

“What does Kirbes mean?”

“... Pumpkin.”

Of course.

#eska (batim) #willy franks #wowie zowie david bowie this went down the rabbit hole at one fucking point huh #willys story was given to me by the graceful hands of insane-control-room #for those who are wondering what the other names mean here they hecking are #pomme de terre = potato in french; haampat = teeth in finnish; carmen = song in latin; luva = glove in portugese #hnif = knife in islandish; azucar = sugar in spanish #and riba = fish in bosniac #eska knows a lotta hecking words in a lotta hecking languages and by god he will use them #i tried my best to call kirbes ms believer for 21 pilots song reasons but the yiddish translation was meh so she remained pumpkin #rupert franks was also handed to me by insane-control-room bless her

[writing-yj]

Kid Flash x Reader: Petals of Unrequited Love~Hanahaki Disease

A/n: I found this prompt/AU(?) on @loudmouthwally ‘s blog and I was GREATLY inspired by it! You should definitely go read what they wrote about Hanahaki Disease for the Batboys and other DC characters!

Get ready to cry, because I almost did.

“Hanahaki disease is an illness borne of one-sided love, causing flowers form and grow in the lungs of the unrequited, the petals coughed up with increasing frequency. If the love is not returned, the flowers filling the patients chest will eventually prove fatal.”

It was getting harder to hide it from your beloved team as it slowly got worse. The pink cherry blossom petals were coming out more and more frequently, and it was hard to not cough. You had a job to do; protect those who can’t protect themselves. You stopped considering yourself a priority a long time ago.

     It hurt, knowing that he didn’t love you back. Even more so when you saw him love someone else. He saw you as a friend, and nothing more. The moment the first petal came from your mouth, you knew you were going to die. Hell, you kind of expected it the moment you fell for the boy in question.

     For the past few weeks, you were slowly shutting everyone out, disconnecting yourself from the team. Unless you were on a mission, you kept all interaction to a minimum. You didn’t want your friends to know that you fell victim to Hanahaki Disease. Not even the adult heroes knew about it.

     Anyone would find out if they went into your room. There were some petals on the floor, on the dresser, a few in your bed, and the trashcan was overflowing with them. They would want to help you, to get him to fall in love with you, but it wouldn’t work. He was in love with someone else.

     One time you were on a mission and you accidentally encountered Poison Ivy, alone. She was about to kill you when you coughed. Ivy watched in horror as the petals floated to the ground, and she let you go without a second thought. It was hard to comprehend why, but sometimes you wished she did take your life that night. That way, you wouldn’t have to hide it anymore.

You were holed up in your room again, but you were uncontrollably coughing up petals. It was exceedingly difficult to breathe normally, and you tried with all your might to stop. Petals literally surrounded you, and you felt your body go weak when you were done. Hacking fits took the energy out of anyone, but more from you as the flowers grew more and more.

     Your phone beeped; a message from Wally.

The Wallster: Batman’s on his way to give us a mission, and it is my sole duty to get you out of your room to socialize before we go. Soooo, come on out before I come get you ;D

     In that moment, you knew you couldn’t keep your secret anymore. You weren’t ever going to go on a mission again. You couldn’t use your skills for anything good from now on. Your life as a junior hero was essentially over.

(Y/n): Fine, I’ll be out in a minute. You know I hate being on your back when you’re speeding around :)

     You added the emoji to make it seem like you were okay when you really weren’t. You allowed your body another coughing session before you shuffled out your door. Not before you threw the petals back inside, of course.

     You walked as slow as you possibly could to prevent the inevitable. What were you going to say? What were they going to say? What was Batman going to do? Your final days were drawing near with every breath. At the time, passing without them knowing you had Hanahaki Disease seemed better than telling them sooner. No one would fret over you, no one would pity you, and no one could tell you what you were and weren’t able to do.

     When you saw them standing in front of the computer, waiting for you, it was hard to look at them. You looked unwell anyway, as if you had a simple stomach bug. So they were bound to ask, and bound to find out.

     “There you are, (Y/n)!” Wally exclaimed and he ran to hug you. “I was about to come get you!” He was like a brother to you; the closest friend you had on the team. The fact that you would be leaving him and your friends behind was like a knife to the heart.

     “Sorry,” you paused to hold in another cough. “I had to get my stuff together.” You gestured to your utility belt, and you pointed to your mask. Every time you inhaled, you felt a small but sharp pain in your lungs. It didn’t hurt as much as it did on the last mission.

     Artemis nudged your shoulder. “You didn’t come out for like, days. We thought you were dead,” She joked, but it wasn’t funny to you. 

‘I will be.’

     When you didn’t crack a smile, they knew something wasn’t right at all. “You okay, (Y/n)? You don’t look so hot.” Robin asked, and he tried to look you in the eye.

     “I mean, you usually do,” Wally winked at you. His natural flirtatious antics always amused you. Your giggle was cut short when you almost coughed. Almost, but not quite. “But today you look a little… sick.”

     It started to physically hurt to prevent even more coughing and your eyes started to water. Mostly with tears of sorrow and heartbreak. You were more than sick. You were dying with more than one leg in the grave.

     “Just not feeling… very well.” This time, your pause was noticeable.

     Zatanna put a hand under your chin and gently pushed you head up so she could get a good look at your face. She frowned. This didn’t look like an ordinary sickness. “(Y/n),” She said sternly then took off your mask. You didn’t fight it. The team surrounded you and the concern was rolling off them in waves. “Are you okay?” Of course you weren’t okay; her question translated into ‘what’s wrong’, but that’s beside the point.

     Two tears fell freely and your voice cracked. “N-no…” Then it happened. You were coughing harder than you ever had before into your hands. Wally caught you before you fell to the floor.

     Wally tried to keep a positive outlook on this. He wanted to believe it was just a cough. Nothing more. Maybe just a cough that was a little worse than normal. He prayed that you didn’t have what he thought you had.

     You stopped coughing, and your body calmed. But you were rigid with fright. Now, they have to know. 

     You heard cries of anguish and distress that didn’t belong to you when you pulled your hands away from your mouth. The handful of pink petals drifted to the floor, and you started to cry. “I-I’m sorry-!” You stuttered, and you coughed a couple times more.

Recognized: Batman 02

     Batman instantly heard the sobs and wails of the young heroes, and he walked over to them briskly. But when he saw you, pale and frail, and the cherry blossom petals on the ground, his heart stopped. Never did he think that you or anyone else on your team would get Hanahaki Disease; it was rarer than most people thought. And it was most likely too far along to cure.

     How was he going to tell your mentor? How was he going to tell them that their protege is dying, because a boy didn’t love her back? Batman called the mission off immediately; the Justice League could afford to step in. Letting them know why was going to be the hard part.

     Wally grabbed your shoulders and looked at you with fresh tears in his green eyes. “Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you tell me?” He was heartbroken, thinking that you didn’t trust him enough.

     “I wouldn’t be able to live my life anymore. I’d be on bed-rest forever, and you guys would try to get him to fall in love with me…” You whimpered, and two more petals puffed from your mouth. Wally pulled you closer and held you there, terrified to let go.

     “Who’s this ‘he’?” Conner asked rather aggressively. He wanted to find this boy and make him fall in love with you, just so he didn’t have to see you leave.

     You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter! He loves someone else. I watched him fall in love with someone else and-” A particularly hard cough briefly had you choking on petals. Damn these flowers growing in your lungs. 

     “So you’re just going to give up?” Robin asked. He was angry at himself for not noticing and angry that he was going to lose a best friend. “You’re just going to stop fighting and let yourself die? Is that really what you want?”

     “It’s the only thing I can do.” You reached out and weakly ruffled his hair, like you used to. “There’s nothing any of us can change.”

     Artemis pulled you out of Wally’s arms and into hers, much to his discontent. She cried into your hair and she didn’t care that they saw. She knew how fast Hanahaki Disease can take effect, she’s seen it before. “You could have told us, (Y/n), we could have removed them.” When you first joined the team, the first person you spoke to was Artemis. You were a very quiet, meek heroine who needed a friend. Now you were strong, confident, and had an armful of friends who always stood by your side.

     “But then I wouldn’t be able to love anymore,” you hiccuped. “And that would hurt someone else.” Artemis squeezed you tighter when even more petals fell from your lips.

     You felt a hand on your shoulder and you looked up to see Batman. It must have been your imagination because he looked sad, too. “We need to get you to the med bay, just for a little while.”

     You were about to refuse, but what else were you going to do? Continuously torture your friends with more and more petals? Become a liability on missions? Pray to a god to help him fall in love with you?

     The entire team walked with you to the med bay (Kaldur carried you), but Wally trudged behind. He felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest. He knew that you would have kept that secret until they found you dead, if they never found out. Fortunately, they did. The words flying through his head were: My friend is dying. My friend is going to die from Hanahaki Disease. My friend is dying and we can’t do anything about it.

     You were injected with different medications that would dull the pain and make it a little easier to talk. Another was to slow down the process, but not completely stop it. Megan held your right hand as you were given the shots by Batman. The tall brooding hero wasn’t showing it, but it was difficult to watch someone so young dying from some god damn flowers because someone didn’t love them back. You weren’t even eighteen yet, but Hanahaki Disease didn’t care which life was being snuffed out.

     It sounded like the door exploded open, but it kind of did; it come off it’s hinges and went skidding across the floor. Red Arrow, a.k.a. Roy Harper, broke down the door and ran in to see you. A flash of ginger hair whizzed past them and Roy roughly pulled up and chair and sat next to you. He was another good friend of yours; an older brother. He taught you how to use a bow, and came for help if you ever needed his expertise.

     “Please tell me this is a prank.” Roy pleaded. He was a usually stoic guy, not nearly as emotional as he was now. You always did bring a different side out of people. “This can’t be happening. You, of all people, shouldn’t get taken down by a stupid flower disease.” He searched your face for any sign that you were joking, but all of the joyful spark in your eyes was gone, replaced by sadness. The light in them was dull, but not entirely gone. “Can we get rid of it?” He looked up at Batman with high hopes, even though he told himself that he’ll be let down.

     Batman shook his head solemnly, and Roy’s shoulders sagged. “You don’t deserve this. Who is he? We can still help you!”

     You gritted your teeth and looked away. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. He loves someone else, Roy. There’s no use.” You just wanted this torture to stop. You couldn’t take the sad faces of your friends, the sounds of their hearts breaking, and how utterly helpless and useless you felt. “I’m going to die, and it’s best that you all understand that.”

When Batman called an emergency Justice League meeting, the heroes were ready to go to battle and fight the enemy. But this enemy couldn’t be fought.

     They all sat in their respective seats, waiting for a normal debriefing, but the didn’t get the kind they expected. “(Y/H/N) has Hanahaki Disease.” The words left Batman’s mouth slowly, and they left a bitter taste behind. “It’s too far along to stop it with surgery.”

     Your mentor went rigid. The protege they raised for many years has a disease that was so rare that some people believed it to be a myth? “This is a sick joke, Batman!” They clenched their jaw. “Hanahaki Disease is practically a myth these days. You’re lying.”

     Batman pulled a hand out from behind his back and dropped a small handful of pink petals on the table. “I don’t joke around and I wouldn’t lie about this. I can pull up security footage if you don’t believe me.” He knew your mentor wouldn’t believe him. Several of the others didn’t believe him either, so he brought the petals with a heavy heart and a sick feeling in his stomach.

     They didn’t know what to think. Your mentor stood from their chair so fast that it flew back and hit the wall with a loud bang. “She’s too young for this! She’s not even an adult!” They cried out and speed-walked to the zeta tube. “This can’t be happening…”

You were laying in bed four days later, coughing up flower petals left and right. The team still had missions to go on, and you forced them to go instead of staying with you 25/8. Roy came in a lot, just to hang out normally and talk about nothing in particular; mostly just reminiscing. Conner kept trying to find a way to help you, but his attempts were fruitless. Kaldur often told you stories from Atlantis, and taught you some Atlantian history. M’gann often helped you go through your most treasured memories, which made you both cry on occasion. Zatanna entertained you with magic, Artemis being her ‘volunteer from the crowd’. All four of you girls would sit down and just talked about girl stuff, that is, when you weren’t producing petals by the handfuls. Robin usually popped in to talk about school and any new tech he got on his utility belt, and you ruffled his hair every time before he had to leave.

     Poor Wally. Whenever he wasn’t at school, on a mission, or (unwillingly, at this point) spending time with his family, he was at your side. When no one else was already doing it, he was cleaning up the petals and bringing you water and food, if you could consume it. He hated how you were getting weaker by the day, and it was like there was an entire damn cherry blossom tree in your lungs. Wally held on to your hand and treated every second like it was the last one he had with you.

     “I got you something from Paris today.” Wally said with a smile and he pulled out a tiny snow globe. It had the Eiffel Tower inside, with beautiful tiny snowflakes floating inside it. “I know you’ve always wanted to go there, so I made a little detour before we came back!” All he could do was stay positive. Other than desperately wanting you to get better, all he wanted to do was make you happy in your final moments.

     You gave him the strongest smile you could manage and you took the small snow globe from his hand. “It-it’s beautiful, Wally. Thank you so mu-” A ragged cough stopped you in the middle of your sentence, and you knew that your time was near. You could just sense it. You didn’t want to die; you were holding onto your last string of life with all your might, but you didn’t want to acknowledge that it wasn’t enough.

     Wally grabbed your hand and eased you through the cough. He was the first one back from the mission and didn’t take the time to take off his suit, being a speedster and all, but you were the reason for him being faster than ever. They were due back any minute. “Do you need more water? I can get water, I’ll be right back.”

     Your hand shot out and you caught him by his belt loop. “Don’t… don’t leave. Please stay.” You rasped before letting go. The action took more of your energy than you anticipated. 

     The sudden grip and tiny tug on his belt loop startled him and he sat down immediately. “Y-Yeah, I can do that.” Wally held your hand again. “Is there anything you want? I can ask someone to bring something in.” 

     “Do you remember my first day here? When we first met?”

     Wally chuckled. “Of course I do, you were so adorable. How could I forget?”

     “Tell me about that.”

     He excitedly launched into the story about the first day you joined the team. You were quiet and calm, unlike most of the other team members. So when he tried flirting with you, you were caught off guard and turned as red as the lightning bolt on his chest. Since you were so quiet, no one expected you to kick ass like no other. Looks can be deceiving, and you were living proof. You were pretty much the exact opposite of Wally, so your close and unbreakable friendship was quite the puzzle. 

     Wally went into the story of your first mission, and you smiled every one in a while. The coughing slowly came to a stop, and you weren’t seeing as well as you used to. But you started feel free, as if you were floating. You focused on his voice as you slowly drifted away. You were happy that the last thing you heard was Wally’s voice retelling your first and favorite mission, a dear memory you held close to your heart.

     “And you looked so happy when Batman said we did a good job on the mission, I thought you were going to explode from how happy you were! Your mentor was proud of how well you did, and we had no idea how amazing you were! You look younger than you actually are, so you looked like an excited little kid that day.” Wally laughed and he looked at you, expecting a smile and a response.

     You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Wally jumped about ten feet high to get out of his chair. You weren’t breathing, and you weren’t coughing either. That wasn’t what he noticed first. You were left peacefully looking up at the ceiling, but the light in your eyes was gone. They were dull and lifeless, and Wally suddenly felt sick.

     “(Y/n), no no no, hey, talk to me.” Wally started crying as he put a hand on your cheek. “Wake up, (Y/n), come on. Wake up!”

     The team was on their way to see you, knowing that Wally was already there, but when they heard Wally’s pleads and cries, they sprinted down the halls. Some of them started crying before they saw you. 

     When they got to your room after what felt like hours, Wally was in shambles. His face was already wet with tears and hands shaking uncontrollably.

     You were gone.

Everyone who came to your funeral cried. Your mentor and some friends said a few words in your memory, but Wally couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t find the right words to say about you; you were an extraordinary and a one-of-a-kind human being no one wanted to let go of.

     Most of the team members were angry. Who didn’t love you back? Who couldn’t love you back? It was a question that would forever remain unanswered. A love forever unrequited.

     Mount Justice wasn’t the same. It was quiet. No one wanted to make small talk. There were no smiles, no jokes, no fun, and missions became complicated and reckless. Teamwork and focus didn’t go away, but greatly deteriorated.

     Wally stood in your almost-empty room, looking at your dresser. Some items were still on it, and they were all the little souvenirs Wally brought back for you from all sorts of countries and famous cities. He most recent one, the Paris snow globe, and a fresh tear landed on the glass. Wally cleared his throat and whispered. “I wish I could have taken you to Paris for real. You’d love it there; I got there when it was dark and it was so pretty at night.” 

     But he couldn’t take you to Paris anymore. You wouldn’t ever see how beautiful the Eiffel Tower was at midnight. The team wasn’t ever going to go on another mission with you again. Wally couldn’t see your bright smile anymore. He was dreading the day when he couldn’t remember your voice. The light you brought to the team and his heart was gone.

     So when a light yellow petal puffed from his mouth and landed at his feet, he didn’t care.

EDIT: Contrary to the popular belief, Wally was NOT the guy the reader fell in love with.

#angst #hanahaki disease #young justice #young justice imagine #young justice season 1 #young justice x reader #wally west x reader #wally west #wally west imagine #kid flash #kid flash x reader #kid flash imagine

[xswestallen]

CinderIris: chapter 4

WestAllen Cinderella AU

Summary: With his mother death looming, King Henry holds a ball and invites all the eligible maidens in the kingdom, hoping his son, Prince Barry, will finally find a bride. Iris West is a bar maiden, who would love to attend, but, she is very poor and can’t afford a nice dress or a ride to the castle.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Archive of Our Own version

Barry took Iris by the hand and lead her out of the ballroom. The sweet smell of roses mixed with night air and the delicate breeze greeted the couple as they walked into the garden. Prying eyes follow them. The women wished they were this mystery girl and the men wished they could be walking alongside her.

When they'd put a several meters between themselves and the doors to the ballroom, Barry was sure they'd be mere silhouettes to onlookers, so he wrapped his arm around Iris' waist, pulling her closer to him. "It's a beautiful night." Iris remarked. "It is." Barry agreed. "Though, not half as beautiful as you." They rounded a corner and Barry was confident of their privacy now. The hedges in the Palace gardens were so tall and plentiful. A stranger would feel lost in a maze if they tried to follow Barry and Iris. Barry sighed in relief. "It's much nicer out here than in there. I'm not an extrovert and I do not do so well with faking it." "I used to think I was a one for the spotlight." Iris laughed. "Though now, I'm realizing that what I once believed to be a spotlight was more of a flicker of candlelight compared to  the spotlight of a good fraction of the Kingdom watching me dance." "Were you uncomfortable?" Barry asked, concerned. It was never his intention to make her feel compelled to dance if she did not want to. Iris looked up at the tall Prince. "That's the most peculiar thing." "What is? I happen to have a fondness for the peculiar." "I felt more comfortable than I can ever remember feeling." Confessed Iris. "It was like being-" "Home?" Barry interjected. "I felt it too." He realized how personal the words were after they were said. "Forgive me, I forget myself. That was a weird thing to say." "No." Iris assured him. "I mean, strangely, I know what you mean." The two gazed at one another in wonderment. "It's like finally coming home after a long journey you hadn't realized you were taking." Barry said. "But," Iris giggled as she looked up at the enormous Place that towered over the garden's path. "You are home." Barry's demeanor turned somber. "I've lived here my entire life, but I've never felt more at home than I do right now, with you. Forgive me if I am too forward, but you must know, from the moment I laid eyes on you, I have felt a serenity only possible when in one's home. My mother always likes to say that it's not where you are, but whom you are with that makes a place home. I didn't understand that before, but I do now. I am meant to be wherever you are next to me." Iris didn't know what to say. She felt the same way about Barry, but couldn't tell him. The moment he found out that she was a poor bar maiden on the South side, this spell of affection would surely be broken. "Was that too forward?" Barry asked, concerned. "No." Iris answered. "I am just taking it all in. Your words are too kind. I'm undeserving of them. If they were uttered by another I would be sure this was a joke. But, I sense that you are as sincere as you are charming." "I come off charming? Good! I was afraid I came desperate as a lovesick puppy." Iris laughed. They continued their stroll through the vast garden. "Astonishing how I can know my home is by your side, yet I don't even know your name." Barry said. "Maybe, it's because what we are sharing in this moment is much greater than words. There is no one name to call the missing piece of your soul." "Perhaps, a connection that's escaped definition." Barry humored her. "You are just as poetic as you are beautiful. But, what is your name?" Iris smirked. "Now, if I told you that, you'd have no excuse to call me beautiful." "Trust me, I don't need an excuse for that." Iris squeezed his hand in appreciation for his flattery. Out of the corner of her eye, Iris spotted a bunny rabbit. "Aw, look!" Iris pointed to the creature. "What an adorable little fellow." "You like bunnies? We have so many here in the garden." "I love all animals." Iris said. "I have a pet turtle. He's my closest confidant." Barry raised an eyebrow. "A turtle?" "He's a very good listener." Iris said in defense. "What's his name?" "McSnurtle." Barry snorted with laughter. "It suits him!" "Oh, I'm sure it does." Barry said, catching his breath. "The rhyme is amusing to me because I had a pet hamster as a child who I called Alexander Ham Bell." Iris put her hands over her mouth to hide her dopey smile as she giggled. "As in the inventor, Alexander Graham Bell?" "Yes. I thought it was heartfelt tribute to the man." They laughed in unison, both taking the time to admire the other. Iris fell in love with the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. Barry fell in love with the melody of her laugh. "My brother is quite the fan of Mr. Graham Bell. He's an inventor too, a brilliant one." Iris bragged. She remembered Wally and hoped his meeting with Lady McGee was going well. "And what about you?" Barry inquired. "I would like to be a writer." Iris answered. "That takes quite the imagination." "For fiction, yes. But, I would like to write about real life occurrences, truth." Iris elaborated. "The world is just so fascinated. It's already teeming with stories that one might think impossible until they see it for themselves. I don't think anyone's imagination can compete with the novelty of real life." Barry stared at her, more enthralled by the second. They happened upon a gorgeous fountain with a sculpture of beautiful and powerful looking woman holding a scepter. It's gentle trickle of water was serene. The stars in the clear night sky reflected in the small pool. Barry saw Iris' eyes light up. "Do you like it?" "It's beautiful." "My grandmother sculpted it." Iris gaped. "Really?" "Mmm hmm." Barry nodded. "It took her the better part of two decades, but she finished it just before I was born. She chose to sculpt the Hera, goddess of women, marriage, family, and childbirth, said it would bring our family good luck." Iris stepped closer to get a better look at the statue. It glowed in the moonlight. "Your grandmother was very talented." "Thank you. She said what ultimately drove her to finish the piece was my mother, who was very anxious about her impending childbirth." "Well, your mother brought you into the world. So, I would say that your grandmother succeeded in bringing your family good luck." Blushing, Barry looked down at his feet. In the pool of the fountain, he was the smiling reflections of himself and the girl. The ripples in the water gave her an even more ethereal, dream-like appearance. "Where did you come from, mystery girl?" Barry asked, knowing the true answer was his dreams. Iris shrugged. "I've always been here, Barry." Neither Barry nor Iris took notice of it, but also reflected in the water, was the Palace's clock tower. Iris sat down on the fountain's edge and Barry followed suit. Across the garden, he recognized a glow of candlelight coming from the window to his mother's bedchamber. He knew she was too weak to be out of bed but was probably lying awake thinking about what was happening at the ball at this moment. Barry smiled, for if his mother could see this girl, her worries that Barry would not find true love were be put to rest. "You look deep in thought." Iris said. She just met him, yet she could already read him like her favorite book. "I'm thinking about my mother." Barry sighed. "She loves it here, in the garden. Though, she's quite ill and hasn't been able to smell the flowers in ages." "I'm so sorry." Iris put her hand on Barry's shoulder. "Fret over Her Majesty's sickness has spread throughout the Kingdom. If it's any comfort, know that all of her people are praying for her recovery." "It is a comfort. But, at this point, I'm afraid we have to accept that there will not be recovery. She's been sick since I was a child. After all these years of fighting, it looks like her battle will be coming to end shortly." "I'm sorry." Iris said again. "She is an extraordinary woman and Queen." Barry smiled. "She is! Did you know, she traveled the world twice?" "I did not." Iris admitted, happy to see Barry's enthusiasm. "She also singlehandedly negotiated the Kingdom's acquisition of our new territory in the North. While sick, mind you." Iris was impressed. "Quite the achievement when well." "My mother has never been one to wither away with her illness. She wants to make the most of the time she has." Barry fondly recalled one of his mother's favorite sayings, "She always tells me, Heaven is the most wonderful place imaginable. But, it's where we'll spend eternity, so take your time getting there." Iris did a little skip of joy and giggle. The truth in the Queen's words rung true in her ears. "Your mother sounds very wise." "She is." Barry said. "I hope she'd able to take a little more time before going." The crack in his voice opened a locked door in Iris' heart. One that she never thought she would open again. "My mother is in Heaven." Iris told him. Francine West died when Iris was very young. Too young to really remember much about her mother before she got sick. Wally only knew of Francine in her sickest of days. But, their father would tell them stories about how their mother was the most kind person in the world. Iris wanted to be just like her. She never talked about her mother with anyone outside of her family. It was too painful. "Do you suppose one day, our mothers will get to know each other?" Iris offered. Barry chuckled. "I don't see why not." "My poor father," Iris sighed. "He hides his heartache the best he can, but I know he's still grief-stricken." "I'm sure my father will be no different. Perhaps, that's the only downside to such a great love." "When death does you part?" "Yes." Barry breathed. "But maybe, somehow, a love like that can transcend all thing, even death. A love so powerful that no master what universe the souls are in, they are meant to be together." "I like that idea." Barry's lips curled into a smile. It's shine made the stars dim in comparison. "You have the most beautiful smile." Iris said. She caressed Barry's cheek. "There's turmoil in your life, but you maintain such a sweet spirit. You are the happiest boy I've ever met." "I have a feeling that's because you entered my life." Iris was glad she was sitting down, for her knees had gone weak. Barry leaned in slightly. Iris kicked her legs out, trying to return sensation to the body his words had melted. When she did, one of her glass slippers fell off. "Oh!" Iris started to stand up, but Barry took her hand. "Let me." He insisted. Barry picked up the fallen slipper and knelt down in front of Iris. He looked up into Iris' eyes. She would have liked to stay like that for a while, free to get lost looking into the green and blue orbs, forgetting about her shoe. "May I?" Barry asked. "Oh, yes." Iris held her up a few centimeters. Barry slipped the glass footwear on Iris with delicate precision. It fit perfectly. Iris' breath hitched. When he was done, Barry looked back into her eyes. "Please tell me who you are." He begged. Iris hung her head. She whispered, "You wouldn't ever look at me like that again if you knew." "I would." Barry promised. "Please!" Iris didn't speak. "I love you." Barry confessed. "That will never change." Iris was still silent. All her thoughts of a reply were drowned out by the pounding of her heart. "I want to tell you everything about me. How I feel, how you make me feel!" Barry cried. He stood up. "I want to know everything about you!" Iris was frozen. Barry felt like he'd been stabbed through the heart. "Do you not feel the same way?" Iris shook her head instinctively. Barry sat back down at her side. She looked back into his eyes. "I love you, Barry." She confessed. Barry's whole face lit up. His heart soared. That was all he'd ever wanted to hear this girl, the girl of his dreams, the love of his life, say. He cupped her face and brought his lips to hers. The world around them was forgotten. Not even the Royal Philharmonic could master the harmony of violins and harps playing in their heads, accompanied by the voices of angels. It was bliss. Their brains ended the kiss, to the dismay of their hearts, by reminding them they still needed air. Iris kept her eyes closed. Barry only moved his his lips an inch from hers. "Please tell me," Barry whispered. "What's your name?" Iris gave in. She wanted to be with Barry more than anything. The chance that he might become disenchanted with her when he learned of her humble background was one Iris had to take. She trusted that Barry would be able to see past it. "I-" Just as she began to utter her name, the gong of the clock tower rung out across the Palace grounds. It made Iris jump. Her head spun in the direction of the news. When she saw that the clock had struck midnight, she panicked. Cisco and Caitlin had warned her to leave before midnight. Wally would be waiting for her on the path. Iris turned back to Barry. She stole one last look into his eyes. "I have to go."

#westallen #westallen au #westallen cinderella #westallen fic #westallen fanfic #westallen fanfiction #barry allen x iris west #barry x iris #iris x barry #iris west x barry allen #cinderiris #westallen fantasy #westallen fairy tale #the flash fanfiction #westallen series #the flash cinderella #the flash au #barry allen #iris west #barry allen prince charming #cinderella iris

[ask-joeydrewstudios]

Sleep and Sugar, Part 2 of 2

[submitted by: @disneyphantomlover]

Norman Polk had to admit, he’d seen odd things at the studio. He knew better than to bring them up, or call too much attention to them. And God as his witness, he knew better than to bring attention to himself. He was completely fine pretending his ears weren’t that sharp, and fading into the background of the studio. Despite how genuinely kind Mr. Drew was in hiring him, it was obvious that some…biases had yet to be let go in the studio. In short, people ignored him because they thought he was not as light-skinned as them. Didn’t upset him none, since those people were few and far between in the studio. Last one he could recall was an intern in December or so… But not long afterward, said intern put in his resignation. Whilst cradling a bloody nose and black eye. Norman honestly had no idea what did happen to the intern, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little grateful that that particular man was out of the studio.

He was getting off track though. He was heading downstairs, despite the nut of a janitor running past him, yelling things about ghosts and Hell, completely ignoring Norman. In fact, if the projectionist could hear the janitor’s footsteps right, it sounded like he was going to Mr. Drew’s office… How strange. Normally he only did that if one of his boss’s “experiments” went awry and needed dark arts or magic to fix it. Maybe he was onto something about that whole “ghost” thing?

Made him all the more curious on what happened to the blond intern he’d sent down. Once he made it to Level 9, he peered around the doorway and found that the elevator had stopped at this floor. Great, maybe he could get down to the 14th Level without irritating his knees even more. He was about to walk into the elevator when he heard a small jingle.

Either Wally had bolted back down here using the elevator -which seemed unlikely given the fool’s terror of the thing- or the boy had dropped his keys again. Norman looked down at the floor of the elevator, and blinked at the sight greeting him: a rather fluffy black and white cat was gently batting the ring of keys with his paws. He couldn’t see much of the cat’s front, but that small thing had ridiculously thick back legs that made him look part rabbit. After a second of playing and batting the keys, the cat picked up the heavy ring and furiously shook its head like it had gotten a piece of meat. Then it deposited the keys on a familiar well-worn brown boot. He let his gaze shift upwards, grinning at the blond who was leaning against the elevator wall. Guess Wes hadn’t made it to the cots upstairs. He admittedly impressed at the man’s ability to imitate a dead log; no amount of loud, rickety elevator rides or the fluffy cat slamming its entire weight on his legs in affection was going to wake him up.

Norman sighed after a moment, attempting to walk into the small space. Tired or not, he did need to get down to the 14th level. He was thwarted by the damned cat hissing at him, arching its back in a threatening manner. It was a little strange, until he considered the fact that the little beast stood between him and Wes. He took a few steps back, kneeling to the floor so he didn’t look “as big” to the little animal. “Now look here, ya lil pest… I ain’ gonna bug your human.”

….He should feel the slightest bit embarrassed that he was talking to an animal that didn’t understand him, but the soothing tones in his voice and keeping his body language calm was the best way to go with wild animals like this. Already the cat seemed sated, and slowly lowered into a sitting position. On Wes’s foot.

“… Alright. I take it ya like McKinney. Don’t blame ya. …Just don’ le’ his boss know. His boss is allergic to kits li’ you.” Admittedly, it would be funny to watch Wes walk into a room and for Sammy to start sniffling. But that man had enough breathing problems as is, might as well not make it worse. He started to stand back up, rubbing his sore lower back as he finally straightened up. “Hooo… That hurt….” He pointed a finger to the little cat, who blinked green eyes back. “You.” It opened its mouth, a barely audible squeak in response. “…You keep an eye on that human.” He’d go ahead and take the stairs the rest of the way downstairs. He could use the exercise, despite the havoc on his knees and back.

By the time he’d grabbed a projector from the 14th Level and trekked back up the stairs, he was greeted to the sight of a now awake Wes walking out of the elevator, holding the fluffy cat to his chest. And either that man had managed a sunburn indoors, or he was one of those boys who got so red their ears even tinted. He pretended to linger by the doorway, watching with amusement as Wes was scanning the floor for any others to pop out, then bolting towards the stairs to the upper floors. He didn’t get far, with both Wally Franks and Mr. Joey Drew himself starting to walk down the same stairs. For being as tall as he was, that Wes could stop on a dime. And Norman got the best seat in the house to watch this interaction with some of the tallest people in the studio.

At the sight of the black and white cat, there was a nasaly shriek of “SHIT! NOT AGAIN!” followed by Wally immediately ducking behind Mr. Drew.

“Wally! Stop fffff-Stop screaming!” Wes sounded a little strained, and Norman could imagine it was needle-sharp claws digging into his shoulder. The blond immediately stroked the cat’s back, trying to calm the small beast down. “The hell did Sugar ever do to you??”

“….Why the hell would you name that little monster ‘Sugar’??” Well in Norman’s opinion, maybe it had to do with all four paws being “sugar-dipped”.

“He’s a sweet cat, Franks!”

“HE JUMPED OVER MY HEAD.” … Okay, that was impressive for a three, maybe four, pound animal that was barely a tenth the size of the janitor. But that cat did have impressively large back legs.

“Gentlemen!” Joey held up both his hands, trying in vain to calm both their tempers. “Please. Calm down. …Now. Is there a reason you brought a pet with you to work, Mr. McKinney?”

“Mr. Drew, I swear, I didn’t do this on purpose.” The blond shifted a little, and Norman could hear a small pitch of anxiety enter his voice. “I was in the lift, minding my own business-”

“You mean sleeping!”

“Franks, SHUT UP!”

“Well you were!” The janitor was leaning to the side of Joey, pointing accusatory at Wes. “I get being tired and such, but man, you were literally asleep standing up! If you’re that tired, just stay at home or something!”

That got Wes to shut up immediately. Instead of barking something back, maybe escalating this little yelling spat like normal, Wes McKinney only hugged the little animal in his arms a little tighter, and quickly shoved his way around Joey and Wally. Both men stared at the top of the stairs, at Wes’s retreating back, before looking to each other.

Wally broke the silence first with an annoyed sigh, pulling his hat off with one hand as he roughed up his hair with the other. He was still scratching his hair when he took a few steps around Joey. “I’ll go ask Sammy.”

Joey followed it with a quiet “Thanks. Let me know when you find his address. Or if there’s a lack thereof.”

“Yes’r.” Wally began his unintentional stomping down the stairs, grumbling a little to himself.

And, quite honestly, Norman couldn’t help himself. He waited until Wally had just passed him to say “By the by, yer’ keys ‘re in the lift.” It was worth the little yelp that Wally squeaked out.

———————————————————————————————-

By the next day, Wes sincerely hoped that Mr. Drew had forgotten the whole Sugar incident. He knew Wally wouldn’t’ve, that spiteful little fucker could hold a grudge like no one’s business. But he could deal with the janitor’s teases and prodding. It was Joey he was more concerned about…

After he managed to take Sugar out of the building, he set the fluffy cat down by his little hide-out behind the studio. It wasn’t much, just a little alcove hidden by a few loose pieces of wood and trashcans. He’d scolded Sugar, but the little cat still squeaked at him sweetly before rubbing his hand in lieu of being pet. Reaching to a small makeshift shelf, he had grabbed a can opener and a small can of tuna. He’d spent the next hour or so splitting the can with Sugar; he’d eat a fingerful of tuna, then offer a small bit to the cat, who nearly bit off his finger each time. Once he was done, he gave the empty can to Sugar to lick clean and play with. He’d passed out again afterwards. Though honestly he only knew that because he blinked awake to find Sugar in his lap and the sun starting to set outside.

He felt like a damn fool. But he was so tired, and admittedly he could feel his energy coming back as he woke up. Even if Sugar had made himself comfortable across his legs, Wes honestly felt a little better and ready to work. But the logical part of his brain peeked in and reminded him that it was late. Most of the music department was gone at this hour, Mr. Sammy Lawrence included. The only ones remaining would be the animators and Wally.

And he really didn’t feel like showing his face after that embarrassing display in the elevator. God knew who else saw him like that…

So the next day, he quietly snuck into the building and clocked in early. Then he made a beeline for the break room and started to make coffee. He did NOT want the same thing to happen today, so maybe a caffeine rush would help his mind wake up. Once he walked out with a simple white mug of coffee, he made his way down to the Music Department. Might as well lick his wounds and apologize to Sammy for disappearing yesterday. He didn’t look forward to it, but… He liked Sammy. And he did feel a little bad for making such a scene yesterday…

He was nearly halfway down the hallway when Grant Cohen was walking out of the Infirmary. Sporting a few new bandages on his hand, which was a little worrisome…. He grunted a small greeting to the elusive accountant, and was startled when he felt a tug on his arm. “Morning Mr. McKinney. Mr. Drew asked me to talk with you.”

Oh God he was fired. He was fired. No no no no, he was doing good, he was, shit it was yesterday, he knew Mr. Drew didn’t like pets but SHIT he hadn’t expected the cat to wander in-

“You alright? You look pale?”

FUCK. FUUUUUUUUUCK.

Clearing his throat, he forced a small smile on his face before looking Grant in the eye. “I’m okay!” No he was not but he could pretend, dammit!!

Grant’s skeptical expression over his glasses didn’t help matters, but Wes was doing his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. “Sure. ….Anyways, Mr. Drew told me to give you this today.” He pulled out a small envelope from his back pocket, gingerly using his wrapped hand to hold it out to him. “I objected the entire way, but I guess you’ve earned it since you deal with Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Franks on a daily basis.”

Wes blinked a little in surprise; that was a weird way to phrase a final paycheck…

He downed the rest of his coffee in one long gulp before hooking the handle on his finger and using both hands to open the envelope. There was quite a bit of cash in this one! And… A note? He tugged out the yellowed paper, mouthing the words as he read. “Mr. McKinney, I don’t appreciate my employees sleeping out on the street. Especially my paid ones. But, Sammy mentioned you have been saving up for something, and I can hope its for an apartment. Here’s a little advance on your paycheck. Get some place for you and that pesky cat to sleep, not the elevator. Joey Drew”.

  ….

  How was he ever this lucky?

((Sweetie. Wes. … You had too much shit in your multiversed life and karma is trying to help. Also, this took forever, but writing Norman and Grant was fun.))

((wes and his little cat friend oh nooooo thats adorableeee,, i hope he gets himself a nice cozy lil apartment somewhere, he so deserves it ; w ; --also I just realized the name of this fic, sleep and sugar, sugar is the cat, clever. and norman doesn’t get enough love, so its nice to see him too :’D thank you for the fic!! <3))

part one

#batim #bendy and the ink machine #joey drew #wally franks #norman polk #grant cohen #submission #fanfic #sammy wes lawrence #disneyphantomlover #also what happened to grants hand lmao #what did mr cryptid do to himself

[flabbergabst]

Captain canary, mission in 1998. Sara goes to a bar for recon and meets..... *drumroll please* ...a 26 year old Leonard Snart who does not hesitate to flirt with a beautiful woman

Established Relationship!Captain Canary is too tempting not to put it here. I’m sorry!

Not Cheating When It’sYou

“I’m in and I’ve got eyes on Salle,” Sara casually said,walking towards the bar.

It was 1998 and the team was on a mission to locate thewarehouse housing smuggled sports cars. There were three masterminds to theillegal operations and Mick and Leonard already took care of the first one. Thesecond businessman, Joseph Salle, had with him a maroon notebook containing allthe information containing detailed records of the shipments of the cars andthe carriers. Gideon deemed it important to stop these greedy moguls because ifthe operation weren’t stopped by year 2000, the stock exchange will crashleading to economic regression.

Sara offered to lift the notebook off of Salle mainlybecause she was challenged by her crook boyfriend and his equally morallyambiguous bestfriend. Being the Captain of the ship, she wouldn’t want her egobruised, so she accepted. Included in making the decision of doing it herselfwas the thrill of it. It was an easy job and she could need a little moraleboost after a complicated last mission. And Leonard promised her a gift if shecould impress him. She’d never pass an opportunity like that.

The whole team was watching through the hidden cameraconcealed in the small stone of Sara’s choker. Sara didn’t even need to lift afinger to get Salle to notice her. She was seating in the seat in the barclosest to the corner. Her purse (which housed three knives, five throwingstars, and, oh, a lipstick) was on the table and she ordered a scotch. Her body-tightroyal dress invited the mogul for her. Sooner than she expected, Salle slidbeside her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Pretty girls deserve to be given drinks,” the short,balding man said.

“Careful, assassin,”Sara heard Leonard say through her comm.; she swiveled her chair and facedSalle. She placed both her hands on the man’s shoulder and slid it to his side,her fingers touching the notebook from the pocket of his coat.

“That’s so nice of you,” she said. Once her pointer andmiddle finger trapped the thin notebook, she dropped her hand, casuallysqueezing it on her ankles. “But you’re not my type.”

Joseph Salle, not used to people saying no to him, was aboutto insist, when a tall man, behind him with an all too familiar voice interruptedhim. “When a lady said no,” he began, “then maybe you should turn away andrespect that.”

Salle was about to react but he turned back and saw the manglaring at him with the coldest, scariest eyes. The smaller man immediatelyrushed away.

Sara then saw the man, and gasped. All she heard from hercomms was Mick and some of them laughing, and Leonard swearing like a sailor.

She smirked and swiveled her chair again to face the bar andwhispered loud enough for the team to hear. “And the night just got better.”

The man, younger Leonard, sat beside her but didn’t talk toher yet, trying to sense whatever he can from the beautiful lady beside him.

Sara was trying hard too—from not looking at the youngerversion of her beau, and from not laughing at the exchanges of her crew thatshe can hear from her comms.

“New dare, Blondie,”Mick said, still laughing. “Kiss youngLenny.”

“No, you’re not daringher to cheat on me,” Leonard sternly replied, earning a laugh from the menof the team.

Wally interrupted. “Butis it really cheating? It’s still you she’s going to kiss. Only a younger you.”

“Point,” Sara whispered, hiding the smirk on her face.

Leonard groaned in response. “No. You got the notebook. Just leave.”

“Or test late 20sSnart’s flirting game,” Nate replied.

“Killjoy,” Ray teased.

Mick came close to the console. “Thumbs up if you accept the dare, Blondie. We have visuals.”

Sara did exactly that, then flipping her hair a little,earning the attention of young Len.

“So,” he drawled, his voice obviously lacking the grit sheloves, “would you accept if I buy you a drink?”

“Okay, not that good astart,” Zari said.

The blonde turned her head sideways, as if considering. “IfI declined his offer, what do you think you have to make me accept yours?”

“I know how to take no for an answer,” he immediatelyanswered, which made Sara’s eyebrow rise. “If you decline, I’ll nod and leaveyou be.”

Satisfied with his answer, she nodded. “Alright, Mister…”

“Leonard. Or Leo,” he offered.

“Then where did ‘Len’come from?” Amaya asked.

“Only heard it fromBlondie. Boss was always Leo.” Mick answered.

“And you?” young Leo asked, sliding another glass towardsher. “I’m guessing you won’t like it if I keep calling you beautiful.”

“Alright, he’sactually got game,” Zari commented.

“All of you shut up,”Len complained.

Sara laughed, mostly because of the frustration in herLeonard’s voice. But the Leonard in front of her thought it was because of hisline. “Sa—Savannah,” she ultimately answered. “You don’t look like someone who’snamed Leo.”

Young Len raised an eyebrow. “And what do I look like?”

“You know what to say,”Leonard muttered, having given up with convincing her not to continue the dare.

Sara held the glass close to her lips. “Really, really,handsome.”

Leo’s smiling, pulling his chair closer. When Sara didn’t moveback, he deemed his motion okay.

“What brought a gem like you to a place filled with crooks andcigars and stale beers?”

She can’t help but look at his face, noting what wasdifferent. His eyes were obviously younger—because it didn’t carry the soul ithas now. That’s what distinguishes her Leonard.

“I’m a gambler,” Sara replied. “I just won tonight. But Ifeel like the win isn’t enough.”

Leo took a drink, downing a glass in one go. “Anything I canhelp you with? I’m quite talented in many fields, pleasure or otherwise.”

“Snart, I think babyyou wants to sleep with Sara,” Nate interjected.

Leonard didn’t comment. Neither did Mick.

“I catch your drift, Leo,” Sara replied with a smirk. But toyoung Len’s surprise, she stood up, picked up the notebook she kept between herlegs and the purse on the bar. “And like I said, you are very, very handsome.But I have someone to come home to.”

Young Leo, true to his word, just nodded in understanding.Still, Sara laid a hand on his shoulder and kissed the man’s cheek. “I think ‘Len’suits you more than ‘Leo’. But that’s just me.”

She left with a smirk, walking away with a sway on her hips.Young Len checked her out as she walked. “Hm. Len,” he said, and ordered abeer.

“I’m outside,” Sara said to remind her team. “Just a coupleof minutes till I get to the jumpship. I’ll be in the ship twenty minutes max.”

“Got it, Sara,” Ray replied in confirmation that the teamgot her message.

“And Leonard?” Sara asked.

“Yeah?” the man in question, whose chest felt lighter than afew minutes ago, answered.

“You better be naked inour bed the moment I open the door to our room.”

#captain canary #sara lance #leonard snart #cc prompt #flabbergabstfic #sara lance x leonard snart

[theheartchoice]

Change 

dean/cas  |  teen  |  2.7k  |  coda for 12.12  |  sam pov  |  ao3 

Wally burned like St. Patrick’s Day. Something in that barnyard gasoline colored the flametips shamrock-green.

“He would’ve loved that,” Mary remarked from beside the pyre. “His mother was Irish. His family get together for a big thing, every year..”

She was gazing into the flames, lost to them, adrift in some private reverie. 

Sam, tall and broad and officially two people in stature, stood with an arm loose around his mother, his other hand shoved deep in his jacket pocket to stave off the nightime winter chill. His eyes flitted to Dean, who was offering similar support to Cas.

Though his brother’s hold was more secure around the wounded Angel, pulling him in close to his side. And both Dean’s hands were put to use: one on the forearm nudging his torso, the other wrapped around, rubbing not untenderly over the bunched and ruined fabric of Castiel’s trenchcoat.

Dean leaned aside Castiel’s ear, murmuring something which was lost to Sam in the crackle of elm and sizzle of maple.

Sparks spit at the shadows from the brush skirting the platform as the structure engulfed itself—a blaze of green and orange, huffing out thick black smoke. The heat swayed on the winter breeze. Flames licked higher and higher into the starless sky, consuming and reaching beyond their grasp as they waved their goodbye.

Little else was said as their friend burned. Not that Wally was really a friend—more an aquaintance. But he was a good guy, and a decent hunter. One who had gotten caught up in the dime-a-dozen demon play the Winchesters had grown accustom to, but which they tended to forget was still so alien to other hunters.

Wally had agreed to help in order to learn, rather than just cut tail and run. And for that, he was brave.

They parted ways in the small hours, Mary saying she would pay a visit to Wally’s mother in the morning. Dean stole the driver’s seat of Castiel’s old Ford ute after he and Sam helped him into the passenger side.

Dean entrusted his little brother with the keys to the Impala, snarking through his exhaustion that if he didn’t treat her with the respect she deserved there would be hell to pay.

Sam, in his good graces, stifled a smile with a yawn and took the threat in his stride, remarking inwardly that he knew damn well how much that car meant to Dean—to both of them—and how anything that could take Dean (willingly) away from his Baby was something else worth respecting—something significant, something special.

Their family caravan rolled out of the chalky drive, pyre spent and demon bodies disappeared (assumedly) by Crowley. With sunrise a few hours away, and having been beaten and bloodied and built their own Burning Man, Dean had called it: some much needed shut-eye at the motor inn before attempting the long road back to Lebanon.

It didn’t escape Sam’s attention how worried his brother was about their best friend. From acting as a human crutch in the ten steps from carpark to motel room, and again across the few feet of carpet to the bed, to how he insisted Cas let him burn those ragged clothes as he undressed him—and then re-dressed him—in Dean’s own sleepwear. 

But not before dabbing a warm, damp washcloth over Castiel’s grimy skin, his temple and shoulders and stomach—those previously cracked and blackened abdominal muscles, which were presently taught, a healthy bronze hue, and void of any telltale scarring.

Dean also didn’t take no for an answer over the sleeping arrangement: he settled Cas into his bed with the intention of bunking on the couch. No biggie. Not that he would get a whole lot of sleep.

Sam suspected the events of the evening would weigh on his mind, and that even if he wanted to, even if he had a bed of his own, Dean’s conscience wouldn’t let him sleep. He’d be glancing over at Cas every five minutes to check he was still breathing, still there.

  Sam was right.

He was right about most things when it came to his brother and his best friend—that is, the unspoken thing the two of them shared. 

The very special, very powerful, utterly distracting, all-consuming, heart-felt, soul-deep thing. The thing that had prompted Castiel to speak certain weighty words back in that barn with his dying breath. The thing which, now, had Dean lying awake in the dark staring intermittently over at his sleeping Angel.

It wasn’t uncommon for Sam to rouse from sleep after a particularly gruelling hunt, one in which the loss outweighed the win. But it wasn’t usual for him to lose sleep over a big win like this.

Sure, they lost someone. But they also saved someone—or, he was saved—someone close to both him and his brother. On top of that, words were spoken which had been, in Sam’s opinion, a long time coming. And Castiel couldn’t take them back any more than he could raise Wally from the dead, no matter how much Dean may have wanted him to.

Not that they were horrible words. They were confronting.

Sam’s older brother was emotionally stunted, afterall. And dealing with complex, intense, intimate, one-on-one feelings—moreover for a guy, his best friend, and a freakin’ Angel of the Lord—was not something he was likely prepared to deal with.

Sam sympathised with that.

He padded over to the armchair adjacent to his brother, who was now pointedly staring at the ceiling, the wall, the loose thread on his sleeve..

“..How’s he doin’?” Sam spoke softly, sinking into the old cushioned seat.

“What..?”

Despite the lack of lighting, Sam gave his best C’mon-Dean-Really? face, and the shadows seemed to convey it, for his brother sighed and fidgted, his feet planting on the sofa and knees rising high. His form was a sihlouette vaguely outlined by the pinkish neon glow of the motel sign through the window.

“He’s sleeping. Angels, aren’t spose to sleep.”

“You’re the one who insisted he get some rest,” Sam mumbled around a yawn.

“Yeah, well.. least he’s still breathin’.”

Thankfully. Because even though it was something Dean not only deserved but needed to hear, Castiel’s confession probably would have worsened Dean’s grief had he not survived. Because now it was out in the open, it was real. And Dean would have lost his final chance to speak his heart, to tell Cas how he felt in return—that he felt the same, Sam suspected.

Hell.. he knew.

“So..” he tiptoed toward the elephant in the room, “You wanna talk about it?”

Sam’s voice was quiet and measured, though he half-expected Dean to spike the volume as he snapped in frustration of unshared, unbroached feelings. But his big brother did manage to meet him halfway and surprise him, from time to time.

Sam could see a head shaking wearily in the hazy contrast of shadows and light.

“You noticed too, huh?”

He gave a soft chuckle. “I’m neither blind nor deaf, Dean. ‘Course I noticed.”

“Yeah..”

He seemed to be contemlplating something, perhaps playing the moment back in his mind: trying to discern exactly what he was feeling when those words left Castiel’s mouth; when he looked directly at Dean; when Dean couldn’t meet his eye..

“..Love and.. Love, right?”

Sam smiled, “Right,” and he let it sound in his voice.

Dean settled back into thought, arms folded behind his head, eyes drifting over the static patterns cast on the ceiling from outside. Sam left him to it, feeling the call of nature before he could catch another hour of sleep before the half day of driving ahead of them.

Five minutes later Sam emerged, flicking off the bathroom light and pulling the door half closed. behind him.

In those few seconds of illumination, he noticed the second remarkable thing this night: Dean was sat beside Cas on the edge of the bed, hand curled gently over the sleeping Angel’s.

He didn’t say a word, and Dean didn’t flinch from his position as Sam padded back over to his bed and slipped between the covers.

However much Dean would grumble over it, Sam would describe it as a ‘loving moment’. One filled with care and cherisment, the kind of moments he and Castiel often shared through looks alone, and not often enough through physical contact, bold or otherwise.

The image lured a warm, happy feeling into Sam’s chest as he drifted swiftly back to sleep. 

Fifty six minutes later he woke to his alarm vibrating under his pillow.

It was after sunrise, though still very much still morning. Better they get on the road as soon as possible and leave this place behind, bad memories and all. Or so was decided last night as exhaustion threatened to claim them before they piled into their vehicles and drove away from Wally, from the barn, from Ramiel and a scorched ring of holy fire, from an entourage of dead demons and the memory of an almost-dead Castiel.

Dean was back on the couch, his aging hunter’s body failing to bend in a way that would allow for comfortable sleep. Sam knew he would be tired either way, but he had a sneaking suspicion Dean had spent most of the past Fifty six minutes perched on a mattress, too awake to sleep or fighting off the need to sleep so as to watch over his Angel, just as he had watched over Dean so many times over the years.

It was Dean’s turn to protect him through slumber, and marvel at his friend at rest, at peace, dreaming, healing.

With Castiel sleeping soundly and his brother most likely having just slipped into unconsciousness, Sam pulled on his jeans, boots and jacket and snuck out of their room with two goals in mind: coffee and breakfast.

The morning was grey and damp and the air was still holding that last chill of winter. Hot coffee and a hot breakfast would hopefully lessen the grievance of waking, and soften any grumpiness from the others when he returned.

And it did.

But in Dean’s case it seemed less the magic of double-spiced breakfast burritoes and triple-strength coffee that did away with his morning crotchetiness, and more the simple presence of his best friend, alive and well.

Dean still looked to be dreaming: all moony-eyed staring at a sleep-softened Cas, hair mussed and eyes shining that peaceful pastel blue, lips easing up into a smile as his concentration flitted between the hunter and his barely-touched food.

The colour had returned to his cheeks and, Angel or not, Castiel was enjoying his own breakfast, along with the close company of Dean, obviously, who had yet to allow more than a few feet to separate them since waking and helping Cas out of bed, across the carpet, and guiding him down into one of the chairs circling the little kitchen table.

It was déjà vu. 

Sam felt an odd, wonderful, rare little peace that grew to settle in the air like a fresh new atmosphere. The coming of Spring and the promise of new life, of rebirth and many beautiful things.

He ate quietly, enjoying their win. He smiled at Dean smiling at Cas who smiled right back at him—gladness and fondness and shyness and coy little secrets that weren’t so secret anymore. Or ever.

When all seemed to be unsaid and done, the three of them trading glances and knowing smiles, Sam took the reigns of driver, keys in hand, as Dean ushered them out the door, chasing after his brother.

“Sammy, no. C’mon—“

“—You need sleep, Dean—real sleep.” He obviously wanted to quash that with some adlib remark about Sam’s face or hair or whatever, but he didn’t, because he wanted sleep. “What kind of brother would I be if I let you drive and risk you falling asleep behind the wheel.”

“Wh—? You think I’d knowingly endanger my Baby?!”

“Which one?”

Sam didn’t bother trying to hide his smirk. Instead, he let it bloom into a grin as Dean shifted into cranky-mode and side-swiped him with his bag enroute to the car, muttering some warning about respect and carefulness and.. yeah, Sam’s hair.

He kind of wished Dean had joined Castiel in the backseat, the mental image urging a new smile every time his thoughts wandered: the two of them, slumped beside each other, head on shoulder, cheek on hair, hands comfortably twined between them, on display for any and all to see..

But Dean wasn’t the clingy, romantic type—at least not when others were looking. Dean was content to let Cas curl up in the backseat—until Cas forced him in there himself.

Because Dean may have forgotten about the considerable strength of his Angelic best friend, even when below 100%.

The look on Dean’s face was priceless as he straightened his jacket, Cas slipping in beside him.

His Angel was doing much better, and the tables had once again turned on who was looking after who.

Castiel and Sam traded smirks in the rearview mirror as the engine roared to life, Dean muttering something about betrayal and lousy family and waffles.

He was edging into non-coherance, and by the time they pulled onto the interstate he was stretched out and dozing along the leather seat, spare jacket bundled under his head for a pillow.

There was space between the two of them, both Dean and Castiel gravitating towards the window and armrest along the door. Perhaps there was too much space to casually initiate contact.

Rain pattered down, hazing the road ahead. It was a peaceful, scenic drive. Mountains turned to forest which eventually to famland. Dean’s gentle snores were a comfort, as was their known destination: Kansas. The bunker. Home.

They weren’t together nearly enough, and if recent events meant—on top of other things—that Cas would be with them, living and hunting (and other things) together, then maybe it was all worth it. 

Castiel’s truck had been left behind, Dean promising to get it back to Kansas, somehow, else abandon it and find him some new wheels since the thing refused to start in the morning cold.

Helps to know your car, Cas, Dean had told him. But if you’re not schooled in the ways of the mechanical beast, then you should at least have a ride that won’t die on you every hundred miles.

He’d made a passing comment—a promise—to teach Castiel a thing or two when they got back to the bunker, pocketing the keys and letting the warmth of his coffee permeate his then-chilled bones as he swallowed, accompanying Cas back to their room.

The thought of home and family and a damn good win pooled in Sam’s chest like a sun-warmed lake at the turn of seasons.

He could feel change coming—it had already come. It was here, and it was good.

It allowed him to feel real hope for the struggle ahead—for the journey, and the darkness they would encounter.

There was always something just beyond the horizon, waiting in the shadows, waiting for night to fall.

Usually, with his brother and his best friend beside him, Sam felt they were a force to be reckoned with. That together they could take on anything.

And now that the truth was known, now that they were something close to happy, now that they were stronger in and of themselves for it, now, like this, in the open presence of love, the three of them could fight and probably win.

But more importantly, when the dust was settled and the threat destroyed, they would have each other. Not someone just to kill for, or die for, but to live for. To truly be with.

Change had come, and it was strong, and real, and good. They deserved this. And if the world depended on them, and happiness was akin to some mighty strength, then that was just a bonus.

#destiel ficlet #12x12 coda #sam pov #s12 #cv #teen #myficlets #s12 codas #fix it #home #family #hopeful ending #change #deancas