#especially the part where he got to take Barry out of his clothes later

[hautecoldture]

Trick-or-treat~

#ColdFlash #hautecoldart #CFBingoween21 #my draws #Barry Allen #Leonard Snart #ColdFlash Bingo #especially the part where he got to take Barry out of his clothes later #It was 1000% Barry's idea and Len put up a fussy token protest but he fuckin delighted in this #Captain Cold #Flash

[supercorpkid]

It’s crossover season - Part 1

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Iron Man x TeamMate!Reader, Captain America x TeamMate!Reader, Doctor Strange x TeamMate!Reader, Thor x TeamMate!Reader, Black Widow x TeamMate!Reader, Hulk x TeamMate!Reader.

Word count: 2570.

For the Marvel fans: this is supposed to be happening between Age of Ultron and Civil War.

You’re in the living room with your moms. It’s Friday night and it’s Kara’s turn to pick the movie. It comes as no surprise when the three of you settle on the couch to watch Wizard of Oz, black and white version.

“Hey, you don’t want to miss this part!” Kara says when you stand up, so you can go to the kitchen to pick up more soda for yourself.

“You are aware this movie is not exactly new, right?” You ask and hear Lena’s chuckle in response.

“Can you get more wine for mom, baby?” Lena asks and you agree with your head, making your way to the kitchen despite Kara’s protests.

You finally picked up the soda can, wine bottle and some chocolates for the road when you hear a loud noise in the living room. You use your super speed to get there, and see Kara being pulled by a portal. But not any portal. Not Barry’s portal, or Cisco’ dimensional portals. Something completely different you never saw before.

“Momma!” You drop everything you’re holding and run to the portal, pushing Kara out of the way. So the portal sucks you in, instead.

“Kid, no!” You hear Kara’s voice and you see her on the other side, but it’s too late. Wherever this portal is heading to, you’re going.

“You’ll find me!” You yell back. And both of your moms faces disappear. “Please, find me.” You whisper.

You fall on the floor with a loud thud. You look around to four guys and one woman staring at you from across the room. You sure never saw them before. There’s a table in the middle. One of them is standing in front of it, staring right at you. He has dark hair, a weird beard style, and you can see something blue glowing on his chest, even though he is wearing a shirt. That’s guy number 1.

Guy number 2 is next to him, in much fancier and weirder clothes. He is wearing a cape (capes are lame, did he not get the memo?), and he also has a weird beard (you’re starting to think it’s fashion).

Sitting behind them is a red haired woman, all dressed in black. She has her legs up the table, giving off an ‘I don’t care about anything’ kind of vibe.

Next to her, guy number 3, is wearing a blue shirt very tight around his muscles, he is definitely the strongest, but his baby blue eyes give you the idea that he is sweet.

And last, guy number 4, is in the back. Arms crossed over, in his lab clothes and glasses. He looks like the sweet science guy.

“A kid!” Guy nº 1 says pointing at you, like no one else can see you’re sitting there in front of them. “I said: find us back-up, and you bring me a child, Strange?”

“I don’t think the child is supposed to be here.” Guy nº 2, or rather cape-guy, answers back.

“No shit, Einstein! It’s a kid!” Guy nº1 snaps back.

“Language!” You and Guy nº 3, baby blue eyes guy, make chorus.

“Great! Just what we needed, a mini Steve Rogers!”

“I’m not a kid!” You finally find something worth saying and you see some eyes rolling at that information.

“Excuse me, miss. The adults are talking.”

“Rude.” You stand up, putting your hands on your waist. “You’re the one who brought me here, mister…?”

“You don’t know who I am?” Guy nº1 asks, so full of himself.

“Should I?” Your answer makes all of his friends smile and try to cover up. He exhales, exasperated.

“I’m Tony Stark, kid.” You blink at him, like he said literally nothing. “I am Iron Man.” He answers like that sentence is supposed to impact you somehow. You shrug and look behind him. To the man with a cape.

“Doctor Strange.” He says with a nod. “I’m the one who brought you here.”

“Banner. Um, Bruce. Bruce Banner.” Lab coat guy answers. He seems sweet looking lost between these people, so you smile at him.

“Steve Rogers.” Baby-blue-eyed guy waves. “Captain America.”

“Natasha Romanoff.” The only other woman in the room adds. “Black Widow.”

“And we are the Avengers.” Mister Stark says and you bite your lips at the information. Should you know who the hell the Avengers are? You never once heard of them, and they all look too normal -except for Cape-guy- and too powerless. Although they could probably be thinking the same thing about you now, so you shouldn’t judge. For all you know, sweet small lab-coat guy in the back can be the most powerful ‘the Avengers’ of all time, and break you in half in one snap.

“Well, ‘the Avengers’ it’s very nice meeting all of you. But, well, if you all don’t mind, I would like to go back to my house and to my moms, please and thank you.” You say and Stark just sighs pointing at Strange.

“Strange, get the kid back to her moms and find someone who can really help in this fight.” He is looking less annoyed, and more tired. “We could seriously use some back-up for this.”

You furrow your brows at the sound of that. You can’t believe you’re even thinking about this, but then the words come out of your mouth before you can think twice or hold it back.

“I can be back-up.”

That could make anyone roll in their seats laughing, but they’re trying to be respectful, so Natasha covers her mouth so you don’t see her smile. Steve looks down with the same smile playing on his lips. Banner almost smiles too. Strange seems to study you for a second. But Stark is laughing hard at you. Ok, again, rude.

“What’s so funny? You said you need back-up. Cape-guy over there brought me here for a reason. I’m offering.”

“No offense kid, but you’re like 12.” Stark says and you roll your eyes.

“Offense very much taken, I’m 16!”

“Yes, well, you’re still a child who wants to go back to her mommies.” He mocks you, making you squint your eyes at him.

“Mister Stark, sir. May I ask what your powers are?”

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” He says with a smirk on his lips.

“Oh, that’s it?” It’s time for you to smirk back. “I get now why you need back-up.”

“WOW!” That’s what leaves the whole group’s mouths.

“She’s got you there, Tony.” Banner chimes in, and you smile at yourself proudly.

“Oh really? What are your powers, smart mouth?” He asks thinking he has won, and that only makes you sorry for him.

“Genius, billionaire, I can’t really say that I’m a playboy, but I am a philanthropist.” Your smile comes after your feet leave the floor. “Also, I can fly.”

“So can most of the team.”

“Oh, then I guess most of the team also have super strength, super speed, freeze breath, heat vision, x-ray vision, invulnerability and draw their energies from the sun.”

“Holy shit.” Natasha says and you smile when you look at everyone’s impressed face.

“I think the child is supposed to be here.” Strange says and you agree with your head.

“She’s still a kid.” It’s what Stark says. “Cap, care to jump in here?”

Baby-blue-eyed guy stands up, walking towards you with a soft smile on his face. You smile back, landing on the floor.

“Ever been in a battle, kid?” He asks.

“Sure!” It’s what your mouth says, but deep inside you’re thinking this is insane. They didn’t want you; they didn’t go for you. They wanted your momma, who has real battle experience. You fought empty spaceships and won. Yay you. You have literally no other experience besides this one.

“Can you give us a minute?” Cap asks and you agree with your head, watching them going back to the table and closing the door in front of you. You sit on the floor, waiting for their decision. You want them to want you. It’s a weird feeling, but you want to be needed and respected, especially for your powers, since you don’t have a lot of that going around back home. But at the same time, you feel very scared of walking into a battle (is what he called, right?) with people who could definitely be your parents.

“She’s a kid, you guys can’t be seriously considering this.”

“She has more powers than all of us together, Tony.”

“You didn’t care about that when you recruited Wanda.”

“Wanda walked in on this by herself. Strange, how did we end up with a kid?”

“My magic was to bring someone powerful enough to help. She’s here. Which means she is powerful enough, otherwise the portal wouldn’t have pulled her here. I wasn’t aiming for a kid, but if a kid is what we got, we have to make-do.”

“I agree. She can be helpful.”

“Cap?”

“I don’t know guys, she-she looks twelve.”

“Steve gets it!”

“But she isn’t. She is sixteen. And she wants to help.”

“She is invulnerable, you know.”

“Fine, let’s take a vote. Who thinks the smart mouth should stay?”

You lower your glasses to see their hands. Natasha, Cap, Bruce and Strange raise their hands. You smile proud of yourself. Yeah! But also, no! Did you seriously just walk in a battle -that has nothing to do with you- on purpose?

The door opens a while later and you stand up, looking at ‘the Avengers’ on the other side. You have the biggest smile on your face.

“Oh, did I forget to mention I have super hearing?” You raise one eyebrow, and Stark sighs.

“Of course you do.” He rolls his eyes. “Do you even have a superhero name?”

“I’m Superkid.”

“It has kid in the name, I can’t take her seriously.” He bites back and looks around. “Come on, Strange, let’s try to get Thor back.”

“Wait.” You run after the two of them. “Mister Cape-guy, can you, um, just tell my moms I’m safe?”

“Don’t worry.” He reassures you. “I left a card.”

They resume walking and you look back at the rest of the team, still staring at you. You take a deep breath, and walk back to where they are.

“So, where am I?” You ask, looking at Cap, who just looks dumbfounded by your question.

“You’re on Earth, Superkid.”

“Right.” You laugh. “I meant, which Earth?”

“You mean there is more than one Earth?” Natasha asks and you shake your head agreeing.

“There are infinite Earths in the Multiverse.” You say, pulling up a chair and sitting across from them. “Mine is Earth-38, and the Flash lives on Earth-1, and the Titans on Earth-9, my cousin just joined. Oh, and there’s obviously Earth-X governed by the Nazis-”

“Wait, let me stop you right there.” Cap says, looking shocked by your revelations. “There’s an Earth where the Nazis won?”

“Well, Mister Cap, that’s what the multiverse is all about, isn’t it?” You clasp your hands in front of your body. “When a diversion event occurs, then a new Earth is created. Maybe you have a different name for that here, like alternative or parallel universe.” You look at Banner. “Elseworlds?”

“Right. Pardon us.” Cap says with a smile. “Well, Banner, I believe that big- brain of yours, is filled with questions for our big-brained guest. Don’t let us keep you from it. Nat and I will go get Sam, Bucky and Wanda.”

You wait for the two other Avengers to leave, and you look back at Bruce, finally sitting on the table.

“That’s a lot of people. Mister Stark, Cape-guy, Cap, Natasha, Thor, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, you…” You startle yourself when you count all of them on your fingers. That’s a hell of a team, bigger than the Justice League for sure.

“And it’s not even half of it.” He adds to your confusion.

“That’s a lot of super-heroes for only one Earth.” You look at him with puzzling eyes. “What is your super power, Mister Banner?”

“I-well-” He shuffles around looking embarrassed to say it. “You’ll see in a bit, I suppose.”

“Ok.” You decide to let it go; you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. “What are we up against?”

Apparently, you’re up against alien invasion. You make sure you ask a couple times (or more), if the aliens are actually evil, without informing you’re an alien too. But yes, a bad horde of aliens coming to this Earth very, very soon.

Banner has about 20 questions about the Multiverse. You try your best to explain to him what you know about it, but it seems like this time you’re not even in the same Multiverse. Is there a multiverse of a multiverse?

Talking to Banner is great. He knows so much; you feel dumb around him. Is this how Jamie and Maya feel when you’re explaining something a little too far from their grasp? You don’t know how much time you two are bonding over science, when you hear a thunder sound and lightning falling close to where you are, and run to the window to check what’s going on. Soon, you see a guy, hammer in hand with lightning coming out of it. You look back at Banner, who smiles shyly.

“That would be Thor.”

“Can I?” You point at the window. You don’t know exactly why you’re asking for permission. You just don’t want to seem impolite.

“Of course.” He says and you open the window flying to where Thor is. Oh, he is strong. And he looks extremely powerful. You can’t control the excitement when he turns to you.

“New member?” He asks and you shrug as your answer. “I am Thor, son of Odin.”

“Superkid, daughter of Kara and Lena?”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Superkid-daughter-of-Kara-and-Lena.” Thor says with a puppy smile on his face. He puts his hammer on the ground and looks to the people coming from behind you to greet him. “Ready for battle?”

He reminds you so much of Kara. Puppy smile, blond hair, kind of dorky. You smile too, feeling your heart burst in excitement.

“I am now, Mister Thor.”

He pushes his cape out of his way, smile still on his lips, making his way inside the compound. You look at the way he walks, his muscles, long hair and red cape flying behind him. Wait, have you once said capes are lame? You take it back. Capes are the coolest! You look at his hammer on the ground with puzzling eyes.

“Mister Thor!” You call for him. He turns around to look at you, and the rest of the team also stops to watch you. You walk to the hammer, picking it up from the floor, and pointing at him. “You’ve left your hammer!”

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

Post-credit scene:

“Oh, how polite, they left a card.” Lena picks it up from the floor. “They kidnapped our daughter and left a card.”

“What does it say?” Kara asks, standing up from the floor, where she has been crying for the past two minutes.

“177A, Bleecker St. New York.”

“They left a puzzle?” Kara takes the card away from Lena’s hand. “They took my daughter and left a puzzle? What kind of villain does that?”

“It’s an address, Kara.” Lena holds her shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll find her.”

Notes:

So @oncemoonie prompted a marvel crossover and I am having so much fun with this, I hope you guys are too, cause more is coming!

#supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp #lena luthor #supercorpfamily #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp daughter #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #thor odinson #bruce banner #tony stark #natasha romanoff #doctor strange #steve rogers

[qlala]

Is it cheating to submit a fic request for the pride post you just made? I neeeed the whole thing (I'm on my laptop, but insert the big gay eyes emoji)

fjskdgjslg "big gay eyes emoji" you know what? just for you. just for you i have written this. i'll clean it up and upload to ao3 later but for now: have 2.7k of len dragging a sunburnt, tipsy, and glitter-covered barry back to his apartment, and happy pride!

Len wasn’t the type to begrudge anyone a good time, especially when the good time involved loud music, leather harnesses, and throwing water bottles at cops. Central City’s annual pride parade came as close as it got to challenging that attitude; families, fellow queers, and queens descended on the city waving more flags than the United Nations after a hurricane, all decked out in color combinations that Len hadn’t been able to keep straight since the ‘80s. 

The end result was the kind of crowds that could make a grown man feel claustrophobic in the middle of a city block, and that was without the visible haze of alcohol wafting off the whole event. 

But what the parade lacked in personal space, it made up for with one very important commodity: unattended wallets. 

The flock of sunburnt twinks in denim cut-offs made Len’s job almost too easy—a hand on a sweat-slicked lower back, a flash of blue eyes, and most of them wouldn’t have noticed their wallets going missing if Len had dangled their IDs in front of their faces afterwards. (While there were plenty of women dressed in just as little clothing whom Len certainly wouldn’t have minded getting within robbing distance of, he’d found queer women as a group to be less enthusiastic about uninvited touching and more enthusiastic about wallet chains, even when three sheets to the wind off of canned rosé.)   

He’d taught a dozen visiting suburbanites the importance of not keeping valuables in their back pockets by the time he spotted a familiar profile in the crowd. 

His usual red getup wasn’t much more modest than some of the outfits Len had already seen, but even knowing the shape of that body didn’t prepare Len for seeing Barry Allen stripped to the waist, bright-eyed and flushed and shimmering all over with a fine dusting of glitter. Len noted, on auto-pilot, that it didn’t seem like he’d put any of the glitter there himself; he was standing dangerously close to a drag queen throwing handfuls of the stuff on anyone who got within arm’s reach of her. It set the sun refracting off every dip and plane of muscle across Barry’s chest and stomach. Barry’s hair, already wild and dark at the roots with sweat, was full of it.   

Len’s feet were carrying him closer before he gave himself permission to move. Barry managed to drag Len into his orbit at the best of times; visibly tipsy and dripping sweat, Len would’ve had better luck resisting the turning of the earth. 

Up close, Len could take that Barry had lost his shirt somewhat recently; the slight touch of pink spanning his shoulders and chest had nothing on the serious flush across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. He had a spray of new freckles as well. They were barely distinguishable under the haze of glitter stuck to his skin, but Len noticed them at once, the change unmistakable on an otherwise unchanging face (not a scar to be seen, even after three years of running into burning buildings and jumping in front of bullets; Len was equal parts frustrated and relieved).   

It looked like someone had painted a few strokes of color across one of his cheeks at some point, but it was smudged to hell and back. The back of one of Barry’s hands was stained a tell-tale matching purple, and Len could only guess at what it had been at the start of the day. 

He stepped into Barry’s space as easily as he had the rest, taking care to keep Barry between him and the source of the glitter, and hesitated for the briefest moment with his hand above Barry’s spine. He’d never touched Barry like this, skin to skin; the gloves had never come off between them, metaphorically or literally. Kept things neat. 

Nothing about Barry was neat right now. He turned even before Len touched him, and the movement brought Len’s hand into contact with his side instead. It took everything in Len not to pull it back in a flinch, and he met Barry’s curious glance with a tightly-controlled smirk. 

He’d expected Barry to step back, maybe add a bit of blush to those already-pink cheeks. Instead, Barry’s eyes took a belated second to focus, and then he gave Len a face-splitting grin. 

“Snart!” 

That time, Len did have to pull backwards to avoid Barry dragging him in for a hug. To think he’d been concerned about a hand. 

Barry didn’t seem the least bit put out, smiling loose and easy like Len hadn’t iced him to the door of a bank vault the last time they’d seen each other. He hadn’t taken Barry for such a cheerful drunk—he seemed inclined toward melodrama on a good day—but Len would take it over any of the alternatives. 

“Barry. Fancy seeing you here. And so much of you, at that.” He let his gaze slide down his bare chest and stomach, pulse ticking up at the warm brown of his nipples and the sharp vee of his hipbones that invited his gaze further down. 

“You’re overdressed,” Barry disagreed. He wasn’t quite slurring, but there was a careful deliberation in his tone that told Len it was a near thing. He took a step closer and peered at Len, suspicion evident in those pale green eyes.   “And… sober.”

“I’m not here to score. Perks include keeping my shirt on.” 

For the briefest second, Barry looked almost disappointed. But it was gone in a blink, confusion taking over. He glanced down at himself, puzzled. Then his expression cleared, and he looked up with another easy-going smile.  “I got hot.” His gaze dropped again, to Len this time, and he licked his lips. “Aren’t you… you gotta be hot in all that.” 

Len was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and thin jacket, and it hadn’t hit eighty degrees all week. But he wasn’t in the mood to argue with drunk logic. And besides, another scan of the nearby revelers had made something unpleasant begin to scratch insistently at the inside of Len’s chest, and he tapped Barry under the chin with one knuckle to bring his attention back up. 

The contact startled both of them—Len’s control had slipped, something he could not afford to happen around Barry Allen—but Len recovered first. “Where’s the rest of your team of do-gooders?” 

“Lost ‘em.” Judging by the return of Barry’s crooked grin, it was an accomplishment, not a concern. “Cisco said the shot was too strong, but I didn’t wanna go. He’s the d…” He faltered, brows pulling together as he frowned. “S’the designed. Designinated, superhero, anyway. Shh!” 

He shot a pointer finger toward Len in a movement that Len clocked, alarmingly, as intending to be pressed to his lips, as if he were the one who’d been chatting about Vibe’s secret identity. Len had three years of dealing with the Flash to thank for being able to catch Barry’s wrist in time to stop him, and he glared at him for the attempt. 

But Barry only gave him a crinkle-eyed smile and twisted his hand in Len’s grip to clasp his wrist back. “S’so good to see you here. I didn’t think…” 

“Don’t tell me you had me pegged for straight.” 

Barry made a frankly insulting noise halfway between a scoff and a hiccup and tilted Len a condescending look. 

“Speedster, remember?” he asked, far too loudly, even for a crowd currently screaming along to a pop song that’d been bad enough the first time Len’d heard it in 2000. “I see it when you...” He let go of Len’s wrist to make a gesture with two fingers, parting them in a V and sweeping them up and down Len’s body, the muscles in his forearm shifting distractingly under Len’s hand. God, the kid had to be a hundred degrees. “When you check me out. In the suit.” 

Len smirked. “It’s cute you thought I was being subtle.” 

“You’re cute,” Barry muttered, childish and sulky, and Len took it for the compliment it wasn’t. 

“You had a point, Barry.” 

Barry still looked displeased with him, but his brow was furrowed again when he met his gaze. This close, it was impossible to ignore that Barry had an inch or so on him. “About what?” 

“You didn’t think…?” Len prompted him. 

Barry stared at him blankly, and Len rolled his eyes and let go of his wrist. 

“Get out of the sun, Barry,” he said. “Find a park bench. Wait for your little friends to come find you. Shouldn’t be hard—you’re as red as your suit.” 

Barry either ignored his last comment or didn’t hear it. “Iris is here somewhere,” he said, possibly to himself. “She’s…” He twirled his finger absently beside his head. “Curly, today. And… bikini.” 

Len strongly considered abandoning Barry to his sunburn to go find out for himself. But Barry was beginning to sway a bit, and a man closer to Len’s age than Barry’s was giving Barry’s toned back a speculative look from a few feet away, and Len gave in to the unsettled feeling gnawing at his ribcage. He refused to call it worry. It was annoyance—or, at the very least, the feeling was annoying him, which was close enough.   

“As much a sight for sore eyes as that would be,” he said, allowing a magnanimousness he didn’t feel to color his tone, “I doubt Miss West ran away from her group and got heatstroke. Unlike some people” 

Barry didn’t look the least bit chastened, lips curving up mischievously in a way that drew another couple interested looks. Len needed to get them both out of the crowd before he started breaking noses.

“Tell you what. Give Cisco a call, tell him you went home. My bike’s on Kingsbridge, away from the parade route.” 

Barry’s smirk sharpened. “Trying to get me out of here, Snart? I thought you weren’t here to score.” 

Len gave him a flat look, ignoring the decidedly interested way his body was reacting to Barry’s tone. 

“You can barely stand.” 

Barry’s eyes glittered at the challenge, and Len realized his mistake. 

“Barry—” 

He hadn’t even finished biting out the second syllable when the world spun out from under him, the noise and the heat and the press of the crowd swallowed up in a hair-raising charge of yellow lightning. Exactly two and a half seconds passed in a blur of movement, just long enough for Len to realize Barry was supporting the back of his head with one too-warm hand. Then the world came skidding to a stop around them. Barry’s momentum carried them both forward several feet even after their new surroundings materialized, and they very nearly went straight through a window again before Barry seemed to remember how to stop. 

Len considered pushing him out the window anyway for the stunt. True, he’d been itching to get another taste of that feeling, the ozone snap-drag of Barry’s power like a live wire under his hands, but he’d rather have waited until Barry could pass a breathalizer. 

He realized Barry still had an arm around him and shoved him off. It did nothing to dim Barry’s self-satisfied grin, and Len had to look away or risk giving into the interested once-over Barry was skimming over his body again. 

“Pretty sure the point of a designated driver is not doing that.” 

Barry followed him when he took a step back. Len made a calculated decision, decided the risk of touching Barry again was worth it, and pressed his fingers to the middle of Barry’s chest—right where the Flash insignia would be on his suit, his brain offered unhelpfully—and pushed him backwards, hard. 

Barry unbalanced and wheeled back a step. Then the backs of his knees hit the edge of the couch, and he toppled, satisfyingly, back onto the dark leather cushions. 

It was a nice couch. The whole apartment was nice, actually. Len could’ve drawn a perimeter of possible locations based on Barry’s speed and how long it had taken them to reach it if he hadn’t already known the address. 

“Sit,” he said. And then, with a smirk: “Stay.” 

Barry rolled his eyes. “Gonna have to ask nicer than that if you wanna boss me around in bed.”

The way he threw it out there, easy as anything, almost made Len miss a step as he turned away. He wasn’t going to lay a hand on Barry, not when he was drunk on sunlight and skin and whatever concoction Cisco had apparently cooked up for him. But hearing him say it, like they’d already gotten all of the messy parts out of the way—it set off warning bells in Len’s head, flashing past all the possible off-ramps he would’ve taken if Barry had ever tried to have the conversation in a more linear fashion. 

“You’re drunk,” Len said, which was a coward’s answer, and behind him, Barry made a vague noise of agreement. 

“Probably,” he acknowledged. “You could stick around ‘til I’m not.” 

Christ. Len didn’t trust himself to look at Barry again, not when he knew he’d find him sprawled out and shedding glitter all over what had looked like a very expensive couch. “Stay,” he repeated, and went off to find the kitchen. 

By the time he got back with two glasses of water, the problem had solved itself; Barry was out cold on the couch, his painting cheek pressed to the throw pillow he’d curled himself half-around. He was shivering faintly in the air conditioning, all cooled sweat and goosebumps, and Len resigned himself to the now-familiar impulse to help him that stirred in his chest. He put one of the glasses down on the table and, not trusting his hands, knocked his knee into one of Barry’s where it was bent close to the edge of the couch. 

Barry buried his face into the pillow with a noise of displeasure, and Len said his name again. 

“Last warning,” Len said. “Ten seconds, you find out if I put on steel-toed boots today.” 

Barry groaned, and if the sound hadn’t made Len’s pulse skip, the easy shift of muscles in Barry’s arm as he pushed himself up to sitting again would’ve done the trick. 

“Water,” Len said, unnecessarily, as he passed him the glass. 

Barry took it with the tips of his fingers, as if it were something personally offensive to him, and took a single, polite sip before putting it down beside the other with no small amount of distaste. Then he glanced between the glasses, and up at Len, a dirty spark already lighting behind his eyes again. 

“Don’t get your hopes up. They’re both for you.” 

Barry let out a breath with audible annoyance and dropped back against the couch cushions to glare at him. 

Len felt a modicum of sanity return to him. This, at least, was familiar ground: Barry, frustrated, asking for too much, too soon. True, it had always been about the hero business until now, but Len knew a pattern when he saw one. Give Barry an inch, and he always took a mile. 

Len gave Barry one last, appraising look. He looked ridiculous, all self-righteousness and bare skin. There was only one break in the otherwise even coat of glitter, there on Barry’s side: faint, but unmistakable, the outline of Len’s hand on his waist. The feeling in Len’s chest coalesced into something pleased and possessive. He met Barry’s glare with a slow curl of his lips, then gave him an inch.  

“Call me when you’re sober, Barry,” he said, letting his voice slip into the Cold drawl just to watch Barry’s eyes go dark. “And you can show me how well you sit up and beg.” 

He could see the impatience radiating off of Barry’s frame, the effort it was taking him to stay on the couch instead of closing the space between them. 

“Call your friends,” he reminded him. “Enough people got a look at your face today without the CCPD splashing it on every milk carton, too.”

In the elevator, Len reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the thin black wallet he’d liberated from Barry during their sprint across the city. Two and a half seconds: child’s play. A little extra incentive for Barry to track him down in the morning, not that Len thought he needed it. He flipped it open, noted the deer-in-the-headlights picture of Barry on his driver’s license with amusement, and then thumbed open the bill compartment. 

Len smirked. Barry wouldn’t miss a few dollars; he owed him for the dry-cleaning it was gonna take to get the glitter out of his jacket, anyway. 

#coldflash #leonard snart #barry allen #the flash #my fics #is 10 pm on a tuesday peak posting time? no! is it when i finished this? yes! #also this is blatantly nyc pride sorry #write what you know etc

[jjmaybankx]

HOLD HIM » JJ MAYBANK

this is an idea i got while watching jj edits on instragram

Summary: When the pursuit of John B and Sarah ends up with Shoupe and the sheriff’s department unable to find them in a storm, the parents of the rest of the Pogues arrive to comfort their children, but everyone knows that Luke Maybank couldn’t care less about his son.

Warnings: angst

i apologize in advanced for any crying. it made me cry to write and i had to take a break from it.

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Sitting on the coach, you were watching the TV intently. With the remote in your hand, you switched between different Outer Banks news stations trying to find an answer, a result, an ending, to the nightmare that had ridden over the island that day like a storm cloud.

A man hunt for John B, it was absolutely insane. Despite not being apart of their little group, you had known the Routledge enough to know he hadn’t killed anymore, especially not Peterkin. Not the one person adult who looked out for him when it came to CPS.

You paced around your living room, looking at your phone in hopes that JJ had texted you, letting you know that they found his best friend. You tried to talk him into letting you go with them on their little adventures, but he had made it clear that he had to make sure you were the one thing that was safe.

But what about him? Who was going to make sure that JJ was safe and sound? You didn’t want to sound like you didn’t like his best friend, you definitely didn’t want to talk bad about someone who was in danger, but you also knew that John B was nowhere in sight these past few days when JJ needed him the most. When Pope got jumped on the Figure Eight, when JJ, Pope, and Kiara got into a fight at the movies, when JJ got arrested and then beat by his father. Where was John B?

You knew that John B told JJ he was sick of his shit, and not even an hour later, Luke Maybank had nearly killed him. And John B wasn’t there for him.

You didn’t want to talk down on his best friends since the third grade, you didn’t want to be that kind of girlfriend, but with John B’s mind on the gold and Luke Maybank’s mind of alcohol and drugs, who the hell was left to look out for JJ?

You couldn’t discredit John B though. His few days of negligence of his friends didn’t compare to the years and years he had been there to support each and every one of them, but it still broke your heart when JJ came to your house, heartbroken as well after his fight with John B over Barry’s money.

“Fuck it,” you cursed, turning the TV off and throwing the remote onto the couch, grabbing your keys from the small hallway table near your front door. You threw on a raincoat and went outside, despite an active storm hitting the island. 

As you drove through the rough winds and heavy rain, you wondered how the hell the Panthom could survive the waves you could see from your window. You just prayed that Sarah and John B made it out in one piece. Shitty friend lately or not, John B was JJ’s family for life.

You safely got to your destination, praying that JJ would be there. As you turned into the parking lot, you saw the Heywards and the Carreras all piling into the building. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing that meant JJ was there, but you frowned when you realized Luke Maybank and his truck were nowhere in sight.

Disappointed, but not surprised.

You found a parking lot and went running, trying to go as fast as your legs would take you without slipping on the rain-soaked pavement. When you got inside, the parents were all hugging their children.

You looked around for JJ, seeing his blonde hair sticking out from the small huddle, squished between all of the Heywards. 

Heyward saw you first, loosening his grip on JJ. When the boy peeked his head up, Heyward patted his shoulder. JJ spun around quickly, and you wondered if he had thought maybe you were his dad. 

The slight disappointment in his face at the sight of you didn’t cause any offense on your behalf, you knew that he wished his dad was there to hold him. His chin started to waver in unison with his bottom lip, and you ran over to close the gap between you and the tall surfer boy. He wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you closer into his chest as he rocked you both side to side, sobbing into your neck.

“Baby...” you trailed off, unsure what Shoupe had told them, but the looks on everyone’s faces, you had a feeling you didn’t need confirmation to what you already assumed: they didn’t make it.

Sobs wracked through his body, and he almost lost his own balance as he clung onto your small body. You looked around, trying to find an answer from anyone’s faces, but the sound of Kiara’s sobs into Pope’s neck caused you to start crying, too.

You placed a hand into his hair, trying to bring any kind of comfort to him. He pulled away for a second, and as you wiped your eyes, something was placed on your head. You looked up at your boyfriend, able to see the flap of his red cap he was wearing the last time you saw him that day. You flipped it so it didn’t get in the way when you pulled him back into a hug, rubbing his back before he went to hug his friends. You stepped to the side with the parents.

“Did someone call Mr. Maybank?” you asked in a whisper.

“I did,” nodded Heyward with a solemn smile. “He hung up the phone on me.”

“Bastard....” you mumbled out a curse, wiping tears that were flowing down your face. “They didn’t find them, did they?”

“Lost them in the tropical depression,” Mrs. Carrera said, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you all looked at the group in front of you, mourning for their best friends.

“I don’t think that boy should be going home tonight,” Heyward said, looking at JJ. “And he shouldn’t be going to the Chateau either.”

“Want to take him with us?” his wife asked him.

“I can take him with me,” you said. “My parents won’t mind.”

Heyward nodded, glancing outside at the rain to see it had softened a bit.

“Okay, you two be careful on your way home. I want texts that you made it,” he said to you, and you knew the extra caution was because John B wouldn’t be texting anyone that he made it.

You took off your rain jacket as JJ came towards you. As you made your way outside, he held it up over both of your heads as you ran towards your car, throwing it into the backseat once you got into your seats. 

His breathing was jagged, a hiccuping sound coming from him between the sniffles. The radio that was normally on, you and your boyfriend blasting music and singing as you coasted down the streets replaced with a grieving silence. 

You grabbed his hand, keeping the other on the steering wheel as you made your way to your house. Your parents were on the porch, you had texted them already that you planned to pick up JJ. Each of your parents rushed to each side of the car, holding open umbrellas to walk you into the house. You pulled your phone out as they walked the two of you to the front door.

To: Heyward We’re home safe. I’ll take care of him.

The smell of fresh clam chowder rang through the house, and you saw JJ’s head peek up at the whiff of it. A small smile formed on his sad face as your parents put the umbrellas into an empty trash can you kept near the door for them, heading into the kitchen without asking any questions further than, “Are you okay” and “Do you want something to eat, JJ?”

“Why don’t you two get cleaned up?” your mom suggested with a sad look on her face, going into the kitchen.

You held JJ’s hand, bringing him to through the hallway to your room when you heard your mom break down in the kitchen.

“They’re just kids, baby,” she said to your father. “Those were just kids on that boat.”

JJ choked out another sob as soon as you reached your bedroom, but he pushed you away as he went to your drawer, where the bottom one was all his. He got to his knees, going through it to find clothes.

“John B bought me this,” he said as he started to take articles of clothing out, throwing them about the room.

You held a hand over your mouth, trying to suppress a sob of your own. You sat down on the floor when JJ let his weight crash over, leaving him on his ass with a shirt in his hand. He kept balling it up and then letting go with one hand to wipe his face. Slowly, you made your way to where your boyfriend was, sitting on the floor in behind him. 

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him back into your arms as he cried into the shirt.

If you had been told a week prior that your lives would be turned upside down because of buried treasure, you wouldn’t have believed then. But watching as your boyfriend, the boy who was held the worst hand and still managed to smile everyday, break down in pain-filled sobs, you knew, you just knew, that nothing would ever be the same again. 

Not if Shoupe didn’t find the boat. Not if John B and Sarah didn’t call from the Bahamas.

PART TWO

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taglist (send in an ask to be added!)

@ellystone @spilledtee

#jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj obx imagines #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj outerbanks imagines #jj obx imagine #rudy pankow #outerbanks #outer banks #obx #obximagines #obx imagines

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 6 || When I Wake

Warnings: Mentions of abuse.

Words: 3000+

Previous || Next

~6~

Waking up was a slow process for Iris—at least, this time it was. Usually, she would wake to her alarm and immediately get out of bed before she could allow herself to fall back asleep. However, this morning was different. Her mind gradually rose from a foggy dream that she was already forgetting, the warmth in which she was waking up to much different than her average morning. Had she forgotten to turn off her heater through the night? It wouldn’t be the first time.

 Sighing softly and curling up in a tighter ball, Iris frowned slightly when her forehead pushed into something warm and firm. Pressing her forehead against it more firmly, she couldn’t bring to mind anything that was usually in her bed-

 Oh

Hitching her breath as her eyes flew open to land on a dark grey sweater made of soft wool; Iris remembered the feeling of Barry’s arms wrapped around her as they settled down against her mattress. Drawing her forehead away from what she assumed was Barry’s upper chest, near his collarbone, Iris forced herself to look up to his face.

 How he had slept through her moving and pushing against him amazed her, but Barry was still sleeping deeply when she looked up at him. The sound of his breaths was faint, not enough to qualify as a snore, and his lips were barely parted enough for her to see the white tips of his teeth. They had both been rather tense the night before, but Barry had spent a good portion of it with a smile brightening his features. To see him now with a completely relaxed look on his face was so different from that which she had become accustomed.

 Shifting carefully, Iris pulled herself up and away so that she could rest her head on the other pillow as she looked over his soft features quietly. She wasn’t sure how old Barry was, but her guess the night before had been near the same age as her—nearing his thirties. Now, he easily looked to be early to mid-twenties.

 Before she even realized it she was smiling again, thinking back to how well things had gone the night before. She was admittedly surprised to have woken up before him, but she was sure he was more tired than he had let on. Shifting again to prop herself up on one elbow, Iris resisted the urge to reach out for him in favour to knowing that he was getting well deserved sleep. As much as she wished to sleep as well, to join him once more, she knew that she would not be able to resume her rest as easily as the night before.

 Her mind was not only awake, but running a mile a minute as she came to realize that her soulmate was in her bed and she had no idea the etiquette of having any kind of house guest.

 She didn’t even have any food.

 Biting her lip nervously for a moment, Iris glanced over to her small kitchen. She was only a few minutes away from the café she and Barry had gone to the night before; if she was to hurry, she could possibly go and get breakfast for the two of them before he woke up. Glancing down at the slumbering man once more, Iris decided it would be best to slip out as quickly as possible.

 He had paid for their teas the night before, insisting to the point that he snagged the card Iris had been intending to pay with and held it hostage until the woman who had served them handed back his change with a giggle at their behaviour. She figured that this could be her way of paying him back.

 So, the small woman slipped from the bed as silently as she could and moved over to the heater that had been on all night—thankfully on low, otherwise she might have roasted them both if it had been on high. Slipping into the bathroom quickly, it was less than five minutes later that she was sneaking out her apartment with a short note left on the bed in case he woke up while she was gone.

 She truly hoped that he slept until she returned; she felt strange having someone wake up in her apartment when she’s not even there.

 Jogging down the stairs effectively removed majority of the sleep-haze that remained around her mind—the rest disappeared when she stepped out into the rather frigid morning air. Glancing at her phone told her it was barely past seven in the morning, which explained why there was only a steady amount of people on the streets already.

 She knew that the closer it got to eight, the more people would be up and on their way in to work. Hoping to beat the rush, she sped-walked to the café; this helped to keep her warm in the chilly morning, as well as cut down on the time that it would take to return to Barry. Thankfully, luck seemed to be on her side that particular morning when she stepped into the café with only two people in front of her.

 The downside was that she had no idea what to get for food since she wasn’t sure what Barry would like to eat. So, she went with the safe option and get two plain bagels that were toasted with butter, two muffins—one blueberry and the other chocolate chip—and two chai teas. The lady behind the counter was a different woman from the night before, so Iris didn’t have to worry about being recognized and possibly judged as she paid for her things and stepped aside to wait.

 The café was efficient enough that she was barely there long enough for the bagels to be properly toasted before she was handed a bag and tray that carried her spoils for the morning. Immediately rushing out the door to head back to her apartment, Iris briefly glanced at the clock they had over the counter on her way out to confirm that she had only been gone for ten minutes. Hopefully Barry would still be sleeping when she got back.

 People noticed her loaded arms on her way along the street and helpfully stepped out of her way, which surprised Iris. She usually spent her walks with her head downward, so she never really thought that people were considerate enough that they moved out of her way when they saw she needed space. Arriving at her building with only slightly laboured breath, the small woman balanced the bag against her side and the tray in one hand in order to unlock the door to her building. It took a bit of struggling, but she eventually got it and with no spilling of teas or food.

 The trip up the stairs, however, was taken much more slowly than the trip down them.

 Planning ahead this time, she carefully manoeuvred the bag of food between the arm holding the tray and her torso so she wasn’t as obscured while unlocking her apartment door. Entering as quietly as possible, she focused on the view that was revealed to her as the door swung open. Upon landing on the bed, she breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing Barry still sleeping while her note lay untouched on the free side of her bed.

 Closing and locking the door, Iris then moved over to carefully place the tray and food down—quietly was a bit of a stretch, since the bag was paper and it was nearly impossible not to make noise as she shifted and moved to put it down. Perhaps she hadn’t planned so far ahead.

 However, another glance to the bed told her that Barry was either entirely exhausted or slept like a rock.

 Smiling in amusement, she was then left with the decision of waking him. She knew that waiting would only make it more awkward, especially if he woke up to her just sitting silently as she waited for him. Probably not the best impression to make while so early into their…relationship? Was it a relationship?

 Shaking her head, Iris knew that those kinds of thoughts were best left for later, when she didn’t have to worry about waking up the subject of her thoughts.

 Moving over to the bed, she gently climbed back onto the mattress while careful not to shift it too much as she sat next to Barry. Her attention returned to the peaceful expression he wore before her hand moved to gently lie upon one cheek. Even though his cheek had been freshly shaved the night before, it was now beginning to grow rough with stubble.

 “Barry,” she called softly, stroking one thumb along his cheekbone. “Barry, wake up,” she called again in a louder tone, using her other hand to lie on his chest and give it a firm shake. “Either wake up or I’m going to hold your breakfast hostage,” she threatened playfully, once more pushing against his chest.

 “Breakfast?” Barry repeated sleepily, peeking out eye open to look at where she was sitting above him with a grin. “You drive a hard bargain, Iris.”

 “I’ll have to remember this for a later day, hm?” Iris teased, tipping her head to the side as she watched Barry blink sleepily. Her voice was softer when she spoke again, calm and sweet, “Good morning.” Barry’s expression sobered as he gazed up at the serene expression on her face, the full night’s sleep having done her good as she looked refreshed and more awake than since he’d seen her the first time.

 “Morning,” he answered, his voice gruff as he offered a smile in return. Relaxed as he was she was able to see the dimples on his cheeks better than ever, and his eyes seemed lighter than she’d seem them so far. Shifting slightly to see her better, he reached up to gently trace along her cheek with the knuckle of his finger. “Did you sleep well, Sweetheart?”

 Nodding against his hand, Iris let her eyes close as the warmth that came from his hand settled into her skin. “Thanks to you, yes. How about you?”

 “Never better,” he answered in complete honesty, before his eyes narrowed faintly and he noticed that she was wearing different clothing from the night before. She wasn’t wearing her coat, or his for that matter, but she was in another sweater and a cleaner pair of pants. “Did you go somewhere?”

 “Yea…I need to go and get groceries this weekend, so cooking breakfast was out of the question. I went back to that café from last night and got bagels, muffins, and—since I didn’t know if you drink coffee—two Chai teas,” she explained, tugging on her sleeves bashfully. “It’s not much, but I felt it owed you after I caused you a week of no sleep.”

 “You know I don’t blame you for that,” he pointed out softly, rolling onto his side and reaching out to lay a hand over hers, stopping her from fidgeting further. “The both of us have faced things in our lives that make everything…different for us. I do not blame you for running, not one bit. And we’re together now, so that’s what matters.”

 Iris bit her lip but nodded in understanding, though not quite agreement. That would take a bit more time.

 “So, breakfast?” she offered, brightening up once more. Barry hesitated a moment, as though wanting to keep pushing her to make sure she really knew about she was agreeing with, but he let it pass and nodded as he smiled back.

 “Sounds perfect.” Rolling out of bed as Iris leapt off the other side and moved over to begin taking everything out of the bag.

 “I just got toasted bagels with butter, and a chocolate muffin and a blueberry, just because Chai tea is the limit of my knowledge about your preferences,” she explained, flushing slightly at having to admit knowing nothing about her soulmate.

 “Well, I eat just about anything chocolate,” he began, leaning on his elbow on the counter as he held out one Chai to her while he kept the other. “And butter goes a long way for me, too. I do drink coffee, usually way sweeter than most would prefer. Blueberries, however, are sour and I don’t like the skin sticking to my teeth.”

 His honestly and forwardness caused Iris to laugh, once more trying to hold it back and snorting in the process. Her hand flew to her mouth as her cheeks flamed, while Barry laughed heartily with his head thrown back. Now flustered, Iris moved to step away with her hand still covering her face in embarrassment. Barry wouldn’t let her, however, and he reached forward quickly to catch her wrist before she could get out of arms reach.

 “No, no, no,” he hushed, drawing her in toward him. “You promised not to run off again, remember?”

 “Sorry,” Iris stuttered, lowering her hand to his chest as soon as she was close enough. It was steadily becoming a kneejerk reaction to him being close. She enjoyed the warmth she could feel beneath her palm, as well as the steady heartbeat that thrummed against her. It was reassuring in its own way.

 “What do you like?” Barry prompted instead, to draw the conversation away from what was making her uncomfortable.

 “Coffee, also very sweet and with cream; dark chocolate that borders on bitter, and lots and lots of butter,” Iris mumbled in response, staring at his lips as she spoke as a way of forcing herself to focus. “And it’s good that I like blueberries; I’ll save you from getting them stuck in your teeth.”

 Barry smiled at her in assurance, tugging her in close as he leaned forward to press a soft, short kiss to her forehead. “You really do complete me, doncha?”

 “Well, we were fated,” Iris answered, still looking down from his eyes as she felt her heart pound in her chest. It was just a kiss on the forehead, but it made her pulse sore. It was the most affection she’d ever gotten from someone in her life, so it made her want to curl up against him and never leave—at the same time, however, it scared her enough to want to run away. Pulling back from him, she gave a smile that she hoped assured him. “Come on, let’s eat, I’m starving.”

 Barry was coming to realize that affection and trust were the two major difficulties that Iris struggled with due to her past. Knowing that, he also made a mental pact with himself—and with the alters—that those struggles would be overcome. They would move heaven and earth for Iris, even if they had only just met her. She was their soulmate, she was Kevin’s soulmate, and they would do anything to keep Kevin safe.

 Since Iris didn’t have a table, and she usually ate on her bed anyway, she pulled Barry over with her to resume their place on her bed as they placed their teas on the nightstand to one side of the bed. Barry sat against the headboard as Iris sat in front of him, crossing her legs so that they were able to face one another and speak.

 “What else do you like to eat?” Iris asked once they were settled, beginning on her blueberry muffin as Barry started with his bagel.

 “I’ll eat just about anything, but I avoid things that are sour or bitter,” he answered honestly. “I am a terrible cook, as well, so I stick to basics.” Iris smiled at his honesty and nodded along as she tore a piece of her muffin off. “Like I said earlier, I love chocolate; I can always be bribed with chocolate.”

 “I’ll have to remember that,” Iris teased again, before blushing and covering her mouth because there was still some muffin she hadn’t swallowed yet. “I don’t mind sour things, but I agree with the bitter. I try to cook when I can, but I work a lot so I’m usually dead on my feet when I get home, so I tend to have instant stuff on hand more than I should.”

 “Why work that much?” he asked curiously, his eyes darting briefly around her sparse apartment again. “I mean, as a manager you must get a decent amount of money…”

 “It’s not about income,” Iris interrupted, knowing what he was assuming. “I have quite a bit in my bank account because I rarely spend it. I work as much as I do mostly because of the fact that there was nothing else for me to do when I got home from work; I don’t go out, I don’t have friends that I would go and see, and I always hated to be alone here for too long. So, instead, I would usually go to work and get the extra hours there. My coworkers loved it because I would take all the shifts that they didn’t want.”

 Barry’s eyes were saddened when she looked up to meet his gaze, causing her stomach to clench uncomfortably. “That’s not right,” he mumbled at last. “You shouldn’t have to go through that. You should be happy.”

 “In my own way, I am. And I’m much happier now, especially after a week of regretting running from Fletcher’s office. For so long, this is how I lived, away from the rest of the world—it doesn’t bother me anymore…not like it used to.”

 Iris looked down at her hands, picking at the muffin as a means of fidgeting, before Barry suddenly took it from her and placed both of their food off to the side. “Come here,” he prompted softly, tugging on her hands to draw her in closer to him. “Things are gunna change, Sweetheart. I don’t think any of us can stand the thought of you being alone; not to the point that you overwork yourself to replace the loneliness.”

 Barry pulled her in close and pressed a kiss against the side of her head, then rested his chin at her crown. She relaxed against him at the familiar position.

 “Remember, you’ve got twenty-three soulmates now. You’ll never be alone again.”

Previous || Next

#Split #Split Movie #Split 2016 #Soulmate #Soulmate AU #Soulmate imagine #Split Imagine #Barry Split #Barry #Dennis Split #Dennis #James McAvoy #Barry/OC #Dennis/OC #Hedwig Split #Patricia Split #The One With Whiskey Eyes #Fanfiction #Barry Imagine #Dennis Imagine

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

In Your Father’s Eyes - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Lois Lane, Alfred Pennyworth, little bit of Clark Kent and Tim Drake and literally everyone Pairing: jondami Summary: Of all the things and all the experiences they thought Jon and Damian would have, it certainly wasn’t this. But they’re all better for it anyway.  A/N: A commission for the lovely @heraldofsong! I hope you enjoy it. :) They asked for a bittersweety fluffy story about the Batfam’s reactions/reminiscing to Jon and Damian having a baby. I chose the middle name ‘Charlotte’ because according to the internet it meant ‘freedom’ or ‘free’ and I felt that described an adult Jon and Damian very well. Barry went with Lois downstairs in case Jon and Damian emerged while she was gone, he could rush her back up. Also, it goes without saying, the Flashes brought Steph, Cass and Kara back from the gift shop the same way. Jon is petrified of holding or even touching the baby sometimes. He eventually gets over that. Some vibes for this fic are ‘Mango Dream’ by Afternoon Bike Ride. 

~~

It was a quiet afternoon at the manor. The warm sun peeking through the curtains. Birds chirping outside. The contented crackle of flame in the fireplace as he and Alfred each sat in a recliner reading a book.

Then Tim called.

“Conner and I are on our way to the hospital. Just about there, actually.” He said urgently. “Damian and Jon were taken there by a group of Green Lanterns.”

“What happened?” Bruce demanded, jumping from his chair as quickly as his old bones would allow him. Alfred glanced up from his novel, closing it immediately.

“That’s the thing…I…I’m not sure.” Tim offered. “I’ve already talked to Damian. He said neither of them were really hurt at all. Just that he needs us there. All of us.”

That was enough for Bruce.

Tim said he’d already called the others, and was in the process of sending Bruce the hospital coordinates. As Bruce and Alfred gathered their coats and head to the car, Bruce’s phone pinged again with a text.

I think you might want to bring your credit card.

Bruce rolled his eyes at Tim’s instruction, but checked his wallet anyway.

The hospital wasn’t in Gotham, or Metropolis, but a smaller city in between. A medium-sized research hospital that the League used often. Out of the way, but staffed with the most skilled in the world, and able to keep a secret or two.

Bruce could already see the gaggle of Green Lanterns on the roof as they pulled in to the parking lot. But judging by their relaxed body language, just like Tim had said, there was no emergency.

So what…?

Lois and Barry were in the lobby waiting for them. She smirked when she saw them, crossing her arms.

“What’s happening?” Bruce demanded. “Are the boys alright?”

“Perfect.” Lois let her smirk become a wide grin. There was a giddy shriek from nearby, and Bruce glanced over. It came from the gift shop, where he could see Stephanie holding something up, showing a confused Cass and judgmental Kara. “We were just waiting here for you to take you to the right ward.”

“Well, I must say, judging by everyone’s attitude, I can’t imagine it’s the ICU.” Alfred quipped. Barry laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Nope.” Lois spun away, all but skipping as she led the way. “Barry, you ready to catch him?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “We’re heading to the maternity ward.”

Bruce froze.

“…What?”

Barry was instantly at his shoulder, an arm hovering against his back.

“Ms. Lane…” Alfred said slowly. Laughter from the gift shop again, and now Bruce could see what Stephanie was showing the others – baby clothes.

“Wild, right?” She nodded, urging them both to follow. “But it’s true.”

“Apparently the boys were on a mission with a few of the Lanterns, on some planet.” Barry explained as he gently pushed them along. “This planet has way more advanced in vitro fertilization technology than on Earth. Than in the whole damn Milky Way. But apparently a major part of the fight was in a science lab. And I don’t know if it was from blood from injuries or sweat from exertion or what, but somehow both their DNA got into one of the machines, and literally hours later, a baby was being born.”

“An…alien child?” Alfred asked.

“You’d think that, but no. One-hundred percent Damian and Jon. So, only twenty-five percent alien, Kryptonian, from Jon’s side.” Barry hummed. “It wasn’t like their DNA was being added to an already incubating organism. Its creation came about because their DNA got combined.”

“At least,” Lois interrupted. “As far as we know. That’s why we’re here. They’re getting the baby checked out.”

Suddenly, Tim’s text made sense. “We have…nothing for a baby at the manor. Do…you and Clark have anything from when Jon was born?”

Lois’s grin softened. “Not enough to have everything they’ll need. But enough for the first day or so. Clothes-wise, anyway.”

“They’ll…they’ll have to come stay at the manor.” Bruce turned to Alfred, mind already in hyper drive. “Their…their apartment isn’t big enough. Right?”

“They live in a penthouse, sir, not an apartment.” Alfred smiled. “But I’m sure if you asked they wouldn’t mind coming home for a while. Especially with all the foot traffic of new aunts and uncles that they can surely expect.”

“You already know which room Clark and I are staying in, right, Alfred?” Lois teased.

“Of course, Ms. Lane.” Alfred chuckled. Barry suddenly dashed forward, holding the door open for the three of them. “I’m already devising the floor plans for everyone in my head as we speak.”

And even with the three women in the gift shop, the maternity ward was a madhouse of Supers, Bats and Leaguers alike. Tim was talking with Dinah and Ollie, showing them cribs and mobiles on his phone. Conner was talking with Diana, Donna and the two Wally Wests. Lois was already rejoining Clark, who was speaking with J’onn. Jason had already grabbed Alfred and was gently pulling him towards Koriand’r and Roy.

Barry was stepping up behind him. “Has Dick been…?”

Barry pointed, but it was useless, since Bruce had just spotted him. He was away from the crowds, further down the hall, staring into one of the closed doors, his arms folded across his chest.

Bruce nodded and gave Barry a short grin. Barry gently squeezed his shoulder before disappearing into their friends. Bruce inhaled and slowly walked forward. Everyone immediately gave him passing congratulations, and he smiled softly to each of them in return.

Dick didn’t look at him as he approached, kept just staring into the door. Bruce silently stood next to him, and glanced inside himself.

Damian and Jon stood there, next to a plastic crib. They were in matching teal scrubs that barely hid the few bandages they each had across their bodies. Nothing serious, like everyone had told him so far, but still enough that made his heart beat a little faster.

Jon’s wrist hung over the crib, and Bruce could see tiny fingers clinging to his middle one. His other hand was around Damian’s waist, rubbing calming circles against his hip. His head was up, nodding at whatever the doctor standing across from them and the crib was saying.

Damian, surprisingly, was opposite. His head was down, watching the child. His hand was cupping the baby’s head, stroking gently across its tuft of dark hair.

Bruce couldn’t see any other features on the baby. Its face was blocked by its fat belly and gleefully kicking feet. The hand not latched on to Jon’s waved every so often, where he could see a tube connected.

God, he couldn’t even see it and he adored this child already.

“Can you believe it?” Dick suddenly whispered. Bruce turned his head towards him, but kept his eyes on the door. He heard the baby give a loud squeal. Watched as Jon glanced down and grinned, shaking his captured finger. “Damian’s a dad.”

“So it appears.” Bruce smiled.

“He wasn’t one yesterday. There was no plan for him to be one, yesterday.” Dick continued, practically in awe. “This is…incredible.”

“The universe is an incredible place.” Bruce agreed. “…How long have you been here?”

“About an hour.” Dick admitted. “Damian called me when they hit Earth’s stratosphere.”

“Did you get to see the baby at all?” Bruce asked. In his periphery he saw Dick shake his head.

“They were already in there by the time I got here. Jon came out for a hot second to ask me to bring Lois to the ward when she arrived. But otherwise I haven’t talked to them.” Dick sighed. He shifted nervously from foot to foot. “…It’s almost laughable.”

“What is?”

“Damian’s the first of us to be a dad.” Dick smiled wistfully. “Mr. ‘I-Don’t-Need-Anybody’, Mr. ‘I’m-Not-A-Family-Person’, Mr. ‘Jonathan-and-I-Are-Too-Busy-To-Raise-Children’…and he’s the first of us to have a kid. A biological kid.”

“A biological child conceived and born in hours, from what I was told.” Bruce murmured. He chuckled. “Quite a…peculiar birth. Just like him.”

They lapsed into a silence then, as they continued to watch through the door. They could see both Damian and Jon conversing with the doctor, and suddenly, said doctor was lifting the baby from the crib, taking it out of view. The baby clung to Jon’s finger for as long as it could, even pulling a little as it was pulled away.

Almost immediately, Jon turned to Damian, and the two began to speak softly to each other. Damian’s face looked tired, nervous. Jon’s looked similar, but he smiled anyway, cupping Damian’s face in his hands. Damian clung to his wrists, closing his eyes as he leaned into one of the hands.

“…Do you remember when he was little?” Dick asked softly. “So tough and angry. I’d ruffle his hair and he’d try to cut my arm off.”

“He was a little…prickly.” Bruce smiled warmly. “Focused on nothing but Batman’s mission, and being the best. But you freed him from that viciousness.”

“I had help.” Dick laughed, watching as Jon leaned down and kissed Damian, before the two engulfed each other in an embrace. “Don’t sell yourself so short, old man.”

“Don’t sell yourself short either, Dick.” Bruce bumped his elbow into Dick’s side. “For as much as I loved him at the time anyway, much of his growth was because of you.”

“…Look at him, B.” Dick whispered after a moment. Bruce actually glanced at him now, and saw tears in his eyes. “Look how much he’s grown.”

Bruce put a hand on Dick’s shoulder, gave a squeeze as he glanced back towards the door. Damian was twenty-seven now, Jon twenty-four. Both tall and muscular, though Jon slightly more so, and both perfect mixtures of their parents. Each with their own lives, their own identities, creating their own legacies, their own destinies.

But right now all Bruce could see was the children they were. The friends forced together by their fathers, but almost instantly inseparable. The kids who were stronger than any man, and whose favorite game was to climb a life-sized replica of a tyrannosaurs rex that was nestled in a cave, and eat lunch in its mouth.

Damian said something and Jon laughed. Damian’s eyes lit up and his cheeks turned red as Jon kissed his forehead.

Bruce smiled too.

Friends from childhood. Lovers in adulthood.

And now, fathers.

Clark’s baby was a father. His baby was a father.

“I’m so proud of him.” Dick murmured, voice trembling in joy. “He’s just so happy, Bruce.”

Dick turned away, embarrassingly wiping at his eyes.

“God, don’t let him see me like this.” Dick laughed weakly. “It’ll ruin my chances of being the baby’s godfather.”

“It’s endearing.” Bruce promised, turning to look at him. “If nothing else, it’ll heighten your chances. Besides, you’ll still be its uncle no matter what.” A smirk. “And grandpa, depending on who you ask.”

“Oh god, Bruce no.” Dick laughed, wiping faster at his eyes. “I’m too young to be a grandpa.”

“How do you think I feel?” Bruce asked incredulously. “I just got told by Superman’s wife twenty minutes ago that I’m a grandfather!”

Dick looked over at him, eyes soft, the crinkles around his eyes more noticeable with his smile. “You’ll be a great one, Bruce. The very bes-”

There was the sound of a doorknob turning, a latch unhooking. Dick and Bruce both spun back around towards the door to the exam room to find it opening.

Suddenly, the whole hallway was silent, save for a light whooshing, electric noise. Clark was there instantly, Lois in his arms. Conner appeared with Tim, Jason was just finishing pushing his and Alfred’s way through the Justice Leaguers, and the Flashes were each dutifully helping Stephanie, Cassandra and Kara to their feet.

They all waited with baited breath.

It was Jon who was opening the door, and held it open for Damian to walk through. Damian, who had a swaddled bundle tight in his arms, stepped tentatively into the hallway. As soon as he was through the threshold, Jon was at his side, a protective arm around his back.

When Damian glanced up with his wide, shocked eyes – he looked at Bruce first. Then Clark, then Lois, then finally landed on Dick.

“I…” He croaked. Closed his mouth, cleared his throat. Let himself smile slightly as he returned his gaze to Bruce. “We…we have a daughter.”

He turned the baby outwards slightly. Her eyes were closed, but skin was the perfect mixture of Damian’s tan tones, and Jon’s pale colors. She had Jon’s wild curls, but very clearly Damian’s nose and eyebrows. There were immediately a few gasps and coos among the nearby Leaguers.

“Healthy?” Clark asked. “She checked out okay?”

“Completely perfect.” Jon exhaled in excitement. “Doc said she looks like every other baby he’s ever seen, all the way down to the DNA.”

“Anything about…powers?” Clark pushed.

“Dad.” Jon rolled his eyes. “She’s only a few hours old.”

“The doctor told us to monitor her as she grows, and go over your, Jon’s, Kara’s and even Conner’s personal histories.” Damian explained instead. “And if she does at any point present powers, it will likely follow the same timeline as the rest of you.”

Lois stepped forward, gently pressing her hand to the baby’s head. Like always, she asked the question everyone else was too nervous to.

“What’s her name?”

Jon and Damian glanced at each other, and Jon let out a light laugh.

“Martha.” Damian whispered, looking straight at Bruce, with a quick glance to Clark. “Martha Charlotte.”

“Hello Miss Martha Charlotte.” Lois cooed, leaning down to kiss the baby’s head. Martha just yawned, and curled back into Damian’s chest.

“Whose last name?” Dick asked gently, taking his turn to step forward. “Martha Charlotte Kent? Martha Charlotte Wayne? Hell, Martha Charlotte al Ghul?”

Damian smirked and Jon looked heavenward as he mumbled, “To be determined.”

Dick laughed as he looked between the two men. He let his laughter die out and asked, “You two nervous?”

“Is it that obvious?” Jon countered incredulously. “I mean…jeez, I’m still afraid to hold her!” He leaned into Damian’s back. “What if I…I don’t know, squish her, or something?”

“You won’t, Beloved. I promise.” Damian teased, leaning back to kiss at Jon’s cheek.

Dick smiled, and couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward and pressed his temple against Damian’s, looking down at Martha. She gave a contented sigh.

“I am so, so, so proud of you, Damian.” Dick whispered, squeezing Damian’s arm. Lois nodded in agreement as she ran a hand through Jon’s hair, before returning her attention to the baby. “”I am so proud of you both.”

Damian let himself smile, let himself exhale in what almost sounded like relief as he leaned into Dick. He stood there a moment, let Dick and Lois fawn over the baby, before glancing up again. Clark was watching with a bright smile, one almost too big for his face. Waiting excitedly for his own turn, but clearly quickly losing his patience.

Then he looked to Bruce. Bruce who had just been staring silently since they stepped into the hallway, eyes wide, lips parted. A faint, awed smile was etched gently into his face, and it made Damian’s own smile widen. He slowly stepped away from Jon, Lois and Dick and towards his father, angling towards Clark in the process to include him too. “…Father?”

Bruce looked up at his face, the adoration clear in his old blue eyes.

“…I have a daughter, Father.” Damian breathed, looking towards Martha. She smacked her lips sleepily, and Damian’s smile, impossibly, grew. Let himself smile wider than Bruce had ever seen. “And I just…she is already my whole world. I…I’ve never loved someone so quickly.”

“That’s what having a child does to you, son.” Clark smiled.

Damian’s grin faltered, just slightly. “I’m sure it was not this way when I arrived in your life.”

It was a self-depreciating joke, made to downplay Damian’s importance to every single person in this hallway. But Bruce didn’t take it. Bruce didn’t dare play into the darkness that still plagued his youngest’s mind.

“On the contrary.” Bruce hummed, taking hold of his elbow. “I might have loved you even quicker.”

Damian snorted and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he just kept looking at Martha, shifting his hand to run across her tiny cheek. His voice was barely a breath. “…I have a daughter.”

“And she looks like you.” Bruce noted, poking at Martha’s nose. She scrunched it up and shook her head. Damian laughed, and held her even closer. “…I’m so happy for you.”

Damian looked up then, almost in surprise.

“You’re going to be a great father.” Bruce whispered, squeezing Damian’s elbow. “The best of any of us.”

Damian turned back towards his husband just in time to see Dick grab Jon and wrap him in the biggest hug he could. As Dick released him, Jon glanced over at him. “…And he will be an even greater one.”

Jon, who of course heard the whole conversation with his powers, grinned sheepishly.

Damian giggled as Jon stepped towards him, and kissed his forehead, then leaned down to do the same to Martha. A moment later, he allowed himself a deep breath. “Well. You ready?”

Jon glanced over his shoulder, towards their waiting brothers and sisters, to the entirety of the Justice League waiting behind them. He exhaled sharply. “As I’ll ever be, today.”

Dick laughed as he and Lois helped pushed the new parents forward. As Clark stepped closer to Bruce and hugged him in quiet glee.

“Welcome to the family, Martha.” Dick grinned, gesturing out to everyone, before looking down at the sleeping newborn in Damian’s arms. Damian and Jon looked happily at each other. “We’re so happy you’re here.”

#Damian Wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jondami #jon kent #Lois Lane #clark kent #commission

[ilovefandoms102]

Part 17*

Summary: The Pogues attend Sarah’s birthday party. With a threat lingering above them is this a wise choice?

Taglist:

@outerbongs @ma10427 @eb15 @justcallmesams @lasnaro @fernweh-fangirl@iamaunicorn4704 @tangledinsparkles @certainstatesmantoadartisan @jellyfishbeansontoast @hurricane-abigail @gviosca @lopineapples @runway-to-my-aid @lonely-kermit

Part 16 Part 18 

Note: My taglist people! Please let me know if your tags aren’t working so I can try and fix it! Also this is so dirty so if you’re not into that look away!

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“We need to get out of here, leave town, I don’t know something. We can’t stay here that’s for sure.” I said, pacing around my kitchen.

Kie, Pope, JJ, and I were currently sitting in my kitech, my brother and Sarah no where to be found. None of us can get a hold of them which scared me, especially after Rafe’s threat. 

“Maybe we should head to Mexico?” Kie suggested. 

“Yeah, the gold would have to be worth more there” Pope said. 

“We can’t ever come back here guys....not for a long time.” I muttered, stopping to look outside.

I may not have had a perfect life, my parents gone,and John B and I constantly struggling to live. My emotional baggage piling on top of my boyfriends, both of us broken beyond repair. The door opened and I saw Sarah and my brother walk in.

“Hey, so I forgot to tell you guys something..” Sarah said, looking down at her feet. I felt my eyes go wide, preparing myself for the worst.

“What is it?” JJ asked.

“My birthday party is tonight, and I wanted to invite you guys,” she said, looking up at us sheepishly.

“Are you fucking kidding me” I deadpanned.

“Bubba, this is important” John B said.

“John B we are being chased by a man who is in kahoots with her brother who will more than likely be at this party! Not to mention probably tons of other people Barry knows! We’d be walking into a trap!” I yelled, beginning to pace around the living room and kitchen.

“I’m not going to let this keep me from living my life! You only get to turn this age one time!” Sarah huffed out, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yeah and you know what princess? You go through with this and it will be your last birthday party.” I said, pointing in her direction.

“Bubba, that’s enough!” John B yelled.

“Birdie you know this is a stupid idea!” I shouted, throwing my hands up into my hair to pull at it as I paced.

“Baby, you need to calm down. You’re over working yourself.” JJ said from the table. 

My thoughts and the possible scenarios of what could go wrong were all exploding in my brain. I held my hands to my head as it pounded, it felt like the walls were caving in around me. My heart started racing, fear coursing through me. 

“Babe, come back to us” JJ said. I felt his arms going to my hands, trying to pull them away from my head.

“JJ-I-can’t” I wheezed, shoving him away. I fell to my knees, my hands going to the floor as I tried to even out my breathing.

“Bubba, you’re ok.” John B came beside me, rubbing my back. I felt JJ’s hands running through my hair.

“Hold your breath and let it out sweets” JJ said, having done this with me many times. 

I did as he said for a few minutes, finally able to get my breathing back to normal. I leaned against the cabinet, closing my eyes.

“This is not a good idea...but Sarah’s right” I said, as much as I hated to admit it.

“So, you guys will come?” Sarah asked.

“I’m bringing my gun” JJ stated, going to my room to get it.

“JJ you’re not bringing the gun!” Pope said.

Later that day:

I was getting ready for Sarah’s party, currently still applying my makeup. JJ watching me from my bed.

“You tryin’ to get a man sweets?” JJ asked jokingly.

“Oh yeah, mine ain’t doin’ it for me anymore” I said, smiling at his reflection.

He got up and walked over to where I was sitting, leaning down to my ear.

“Maybe, I should show you what I can do sweetheart.” he whispered, biting at my ear. 

“JJ, no we don’t have time. I have to get ready.” I said, pushing him away. I turned back around to continue what I was doing. JJ growled, throwing the stuff I had in my hands to the table. He grabbed at my jaw, forcing me to get up and walked me back towards the bed.

“You do what I want when I want you to sweets” JJ spat through his teeth. I was so turned on by his sudden dominance, heat pooling in my stomach.

His cold rings bit into my skin, blue eyes scorching into mine. I stared up at him wide eyed, my hands going to his abs. He looked down at me, like he was deciding what he wanted to do with me. He pushed me down to my knees, I looked up at him. He unbuttoned his shorts and pushed them down with his boxers, his erection slapping against his stomach. His shirt came off next, his hands going to the back of my head, and pushing me forward.

“Suck me off pretty girl” he demanded, pushing me more towards his hard on. 

I scooted closer to him, taking his length into my mouth. I looked up at him through my lashes, his eyes completely clouded over with lust as he stared intensely at me. I wanted to try something, not knowing how well it would go. I pulled back to his tip before taking a deep breath and pushing myself all the way down his hard lengeth, my nose touching right at the base. I was proud of myself as JJ moaned loud, fisting his hand in my hair hard. 

“Baby” he gasped, his legs starting to shake. 

I pulled back, starting to bob my head faster. JJ didn’t like my pace so he took my head and started to fuck my mouth. I breathed through my nose I wouldn’t gag as hard. I had to shift my thighs to relieve pressure as JJ pushed harder and faster on my head. He grunted and groaned, starting to twitch in my mouth. He pulled me all the way down again, I swallowed against him a few times before he let go. He went still, throwing his head back as he came in my mouth. His legs shook hard, his hand loosening in my hair. I pulled away, wiping the spit away and taking a lot of deep breaths. JJ fell back on the bed, still panting.

“Fuck” he said, turning to look at me. “You’re so fucking hot, that was the sexiest thing ever.” he stated, my face turning red.

“J stop” I muttered, putting my hands over my face.

“Take your clothes off” he said, sitting up on his elbows.

I stared into his eyes while I slowly took off my clothes as requested. He patted the bed, I crawled on top of him. I looked into his eyes, leaning down to kiss him. He pulled away, looking up at me.

“I want you to sit on my face” he said bluntly, my eyes widening.

“JJ” I said nervously.

But he already started scooting me up his chest, his head now right below my heat. He looked so hot sitting under me like that I already started panting and he hadn’t even touched me yet.  Once he was comfortable with his arms going around my thighs, I put my hand in his hair. He kissed my clit before taking a long lick all the way up my heat. I gasped, grabbing his hair and pulling it.

“JJ” I panted.

“You look so pretty baby” he said, his voice deep.

I shuttered as he gave little licks everywhere. I started grinding onto his tongue, wanting release. He stuck his tongue inside me and I moaned loud. He started to fuck me with his tongue, drinking the wetness leaking out of me. The slurping noises he made were turning my on even more. He held me still as he shoved his tongue as far as it would go and wiggled it. It was a sensational feeling. I started seeing stars. I started grinding on his tongue harder, but JJ’s grip on my tightened which restricted my movements.

“JJ, please” I panted over and over.

“You want to cum my pretty baby?” he pulled back, my wetness shining against his face.

“JJ PLEASE!” I screamed, trying to pull his head back to me. 

He licked his way back up to my clit, kissing it a few times. Then he took it into his mouth and sucked hard. I screamed, pushing his head, the feeling becoming too much. JJ held me still as he licked all over me, fast, and hard. I threw my head back, moaning his name over and over until I came. I shook hard on top of him, my body toppling over. I grabbed at the wall for support, my other hand still pushing at JJ’s head. I rolled off of him and onto the other side, still breathing hard.

“We’re definitely going to be late” I said, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m ok with that” JJ said, getting up to put his clothes on.

“I can’t even move right now” I mumbled.

“I do that good sweets?” he smirked.

“Shut up asshole” I laughed, rolling over.

I went to the bathroom to clean up, throwing my clothes back on. I decided to skip my fancy makeup I was going for and just threw on some mascara. 

At Sarah’s house:

I parked beside Kie’s car, looking over at Sarah’s mansion. This was my first Kook party, and being a Pogue, I can’t even begin to list the things that could possibly happen tonight. 

“Are we staying long?” JJ asked, snuffing out the cigarette I lent him.

“Hell no, we’re staying an hour tops” I said, getting out of the car after Kie and Pope. 

JJ followed, meeting me around the back. He took my hand in his as we all made our way to the front of the mansion. I texted my brother, letting him know we were there. His response saying to meet him and Sarah around the back once we got in the house. 

“This is such a bad idea” I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. 

“Really bad” Pope agreed.

“Look, Sarah is our friend let’s just get in and get out.” Kie said.

“She ain’t a friend for making us come to a Kook party” JJ muttered, adjusting his hat. 

We walked through the front door, the house so packed we had to move in a line. JJ in front with Pope, Kie and I bringing up the rear. People were staring at us, some giving us disgusted looks, and a few saying hi to Kie. I gripped tighter on Kie’s hand, not wanting to get lost in the sea of people. I looked over and spotted Rafe, Topper, and Kelce by the bar in the kitchen, talking to some Kook chicks. Thankfully they didn’t see us as we walked past them, spotting my brother and Sarah by the pool.

“You guys made it!” Sarah yelled over the music. She hugged each of us, after I went straight over to JJ. I grabbed his hand tight, not wanting to lose him or chance that Rafe might see us. With the amount of people here I was almost confident that they wouldn’t spot us.

Almost.

We were all talking in a circle, I wasn’t participating much in the conversation because I was so nervous. Another group of people beside us moving, so we were now exposed to the kitchen, just where Rafe happened to be. And he just so happened to look over at the precise moment they left. He spotted me and grinned. 

“Shit” I said, tugging at JJ’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“We’ve been spotted.” I said, moving my eyes towards the kitchen.

“What’s happening?” Kie asked, noticing my distress.

“They saw us, Rafe and them” I said, looking at the kitchen again. They were making their way towards us.

“Let me talk to him guys, I’m not letting him ruin my party” Sarah stated, walking to her brother. 

“This is exactly why I said we shouldn’t have fucking come” I hissed at my brother.

“Would you stop!” John B yelled.

We looked over and saw Sarah arguing with them, Topper and Kelce eyeing our group. Rafe shoved Sarah out of the way, walking to us again. Sarah trailed behind him, still yelling at him. I tensed up, gripping JJ’s hand tighter. I grabbed a hold of my brother too, keeping both boys at bay in case things escalated.

“Evening Pogues, didn’t expect you on this side of the island.” Rafe said.

“Must be a nice change of scenery” Topper laughed. 

“I’m sure you Pogues aren’t used to being even remotely near a place with working water.” Kelce said, the trio laughing harder.

“Can we not, for one night, have peace? Just be here to celebrate Sarah.” Kie said.

“You see, that would be nice, but I have a very angry drugdealer on my tail about getting his money back.” Rafe said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“I already told you Rafe, we didn’ take anything. Leave them alone.” Sarah said, coming to stand in front of us.

“Why do you lie for them Sarah? They’re nothing but trash.” Topper said, looking specifically at my brother.

“You watch your mouth Topper” I spat.

“Princess Pogue finally speaks” Kelce smirked, elbowing Rafe.

“What happened yesterday was just a message, it’s only going to get worse from here little Pogue.” Rafe said, smiling at me. 

“Shut up Rafe!” Sarah yelled.

“What happened yesterday?” JJ asked.

“Oh you don’t know JJ? Barry’s men attacked your girl and John B along with my idiotic sister.” Rafe said, shrugging his shoulders.

I looked at JJ, his face red with rage. The hand that wasn’t in mine starting to ball up. 

“That’s enough Rafe” I said firmly.

“I hope you know Maybank that you put not only your friends, but your girl on Barry’s hit list. He wants her.” Rafe taunted JJ.

JJ tried to charge at Rafe, but I got in front of him putting my hands on his chest.

“JJ, no baby, please calm down” I whispered.

“Yeah baby boy, calm down” Kelce mocked in a high pitched voice. Rafe and Topper laughing. 

“Let’s go home” I said, trying to push JJ in the direction of the exit. We started making our way out of there, but Rafe wasn’t done.

“Barry is planning on having a good time with you too little Pogue! Even offered to let me join!” Rafe yelled.

I gasped as JJ wretched his hand out of mine and took off full speed. Tackling Rafe to the ground, his fists flying at lightening speed. Kelce and Topper trying to get on JJ, but John B and Pope deterred them. I went behind JJ, wrapping my arms around him to try and pull him off.

“JJ please!” I screamed.

JJ reached for something that was tucked under his belt loop. My eyes about popped out of my head when I saw it was the gun. He pointed it at Rafe’s temple.

“I ever hear you say shit like that about my girl, ever, again....I’ll blow your fucking brains out” JJ hissed, his face so red, and anger so clear in his features a vein was popping out of his neck.

“Woah, JJ!” Sarah yelled.

“JJ put it down!” John B yelled.

Rafe just smiled, his teeth red from the blood pooling in his mouth.

“You’re going to lose her Maybank, hell, she’s practically already gone.” Rafe said, laughing.

Suddenly the power went out, everyone confused, and some girls screamed. I grabbed the back of JJ’s shirt, holding on for dear life. I heard heavy footsteps coming from all around. I looked in every direction, trying to find where the sounds were coming from. The lights came back on, and I saw men in all black coming straight for us.  Rafe flipped them over so he could hold JJ down. JJ struggling hard underneath him.

“JJ! JJ!” I screeched as men grabbed me, Kie, and Sarah. 

My brother and Pope being held back by Kelce and Topper. I threw myself around trying to break free, but the man that had a hold of me was too strong. JJ and John B screaming for me, Kie screaming for Pope. Sarah crying for Rafe and John B.. The people around us were screaming and running away from the mansion, piling in their cars and speeding away. We were tossed in the back of a utility van. Kie, Sarah, and I huddling together, crying. 

“I love you guys so much” I cried harder. We all hugged each other and sobbed, terrified for what was to come.

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#outer banks #outer banks netflix #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks angst #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks jj #outer banks jj maybank #outerbanks #outerbanks netflix #outerbanks angst #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks fic #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks x you #outerbanks jj #outerbanks jj maybank #obx #obx imagine #obx fic #obx x reader #obx x you #obx netflix #obx angst #obx jj #obx jj maybank #jj maybank #jj maybank outerbanks #jj maybank outer banks

[kristinee]

Safe and Sound

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drugs, reader gets abused by Barry (section is short but marked if you’d like to skip), Rafe fights Barry

Word Count: 1.3K

Request: “OK maybe a Rafe imagine where he owes money for drugs and his drug dealer aka Barry comes to collect from the reader and maybe roughs her up a little and when Rafe finds out he loses it. He's super protective and would never let anyone touch her 😭💕”

A/N: My first Rafe imagine :) I got a lot of amazing requests today and I’m so excited to get into them. I hope you enjoy this one.

Dealing drugs was never your first choice but it made you a living. Money had always been something you couldn’t go without, so when your parents kicked you out at 18 you had no choice but to find something fast. Your appearance didn’t pay for itself.

After countless parties and bonfires with your Kook friends, you noticed that drugs had always been their friend but you’d never see the day you’d go to Barry asking if he was hiring. He didn’t want you to be part of the life, it was all too dangerous and besides, you hardly even knew the guy. However, you convinced him otherwise. “Barry, I’m perfect for the job. I’m always around those coke fiends and I’m the most inconspicuous drug dealer. How can they suspect the little Kook princess of selling her friends coke?” His eyes practically rolled to the back of his head. “Fine, you can have Rafe and a couple of his friends for now. I want to test the waters with you, Miss Princess.” And so the deal was done and your first job was Rafe Cameron, your best friend’s brother, and his jackass friends.

After a few weeks on the job, you found it to be easy, especially now that Barry had gained trust in you up until this week. Rafe was late on payment again and since he was your customer, your duty. You knew that it was your ass on the line so you had to do what you had to do. 

Y/N: Anyone home rn?

Rafe: No, just me and Topper. Why what’s up?

Y/N: Need to talk. See you in 5.

It took a minute but you drove up, fixing your shorts a little high and checking your makeup hoping it’d somehow make him a little more eager to finally pay on time. “Hey Rafe, you’re late again. Barry’s getting on my ass!” You walked up to him and Topper, walking with a little extra bounce in your step making sure to get their attention. “You know Y/N you’re looking pretty hot today, m-” you gave Topper a glare. “Any other time but not right now.” You had to drop the bitchy act and get straight to it. “Barry will not hesitate to fire me or worse if you’re late again. Maybe you and Top can half this payment and I’ll throw in a couple extra grams next time?” You made your best pout but it didn’t work. “I-I just don’t have it right now. I had to take care of some other shit.” You sighed heavily, hand resting on your hip. “Fine then, I gotta go.”

You drove back to Barry’s later that night, your heart beating out of your chest. He was having a bad week and was already on edge because of deliveries and you couldn’t help but let yourself cry. Even if a lot of this money was for clothes and fancy makeup, those things weren’t your priority anymore. Since the job started the money had been going to your apartment and even the money from this wasn’t even cutting it for that anymore and you were on the verge of being homeless yet again. You had to tell him though. 

*if abuse is triggering please skip this section*

“Why’s the princess crying?” The ignorance in his voice only fueled the emotions pouring. “He didn’t have it.” The words barely came out in time until his hand reached out to your throat. It wasn’t the first time he touched “He’s your customer Y/N, I told you to fuck him if you have to and you couldn’t even do that huh?” he spat angrily treating you like some prostitute. His hand gliding down your body lower and lower until he let go with a slap. You couldn’t help but feel so empty, your throat burned as your back slid down the wall. You had to leave and you had to go see Rafe. Now.

*continue reading*

It was already 2 in the morning but you needed that money. You called and waited for an answer since he���d be up or you’d force him up. There was a rasp in your voice when you greeted him. “Rafe, meet me at your place.” he barely had time to speak before you hung up. When you arrived the porch light went on which signaled you to go inside. (You still don’t know how he managed to get such a nice house after his dad kicked him out, maybe it was all the missing payments). You went up the steps and walked in, looking down after you saw Top and Kelce passed out in a sea of empty cans. “Hey what’s wrong?” he observed you but no answer. “Hey, earth to Y/N.” His hand came up to your chin and shifted your face to look at him. It gave him an even better view of your neck, bruised and scratched, and your face marked with his hand. The tears came back to your eyes. “Barry-, and the money- and he- he touched me” Your words separated by every heavy breath you took. “I am so sorry” He pulled you in tight, his hands gripping your small frame. Even he had tears in his eyes. You’d never seen him shed a tear in your life “I knew he was a lowlife, but not enough to hit a fucking woman.” his hands tightened until he took you away as he examined more closely. “I’ll give him his fucking money if he wants it so fucking bad. I’ll make sure that bastard never gets any of my goddamn money ever again.” He went over to the cookie jar on the counter and pulled out a couple hundreds and went to Topper’s wallet and did the same. You wouldn’t ask. He was about to drag you out with him when he stopped in his tracks. “You’re gonna be safe and sound with me okay? You can stay here as long as you need, we can even share my bed if it makes you feel safer.” His eyes held sincerity. “I really love you and care about Y/N, I always have. Now let’s go kick his ass.” He grabbed your hand and gave you a helmet so you hopped on the back of his bike, holding onto his waist, a closeness you always wanted. 

You both knew the way to Barry’s house all too well and this would hopefully be the last trip there. Rafe began walking up to the house with you behind him until you heard music and laughter coming from the back. 

“Hey Barry, I finally have the fucking money you wanted.” his eyes glared up at Rafe from the lines he was getting ready to snort. “It’s about time” he slurred his words and dragged himself out of his seat. “Yeah here’s one, two, three, four, and five hundred” Rafe held it out to him until Barry got close. Once he was near him Rafe grabbed him by the collar and threw him into the dirt, kicking him in the side. The groans of pain coming out of him were music to your ears as Rafe dropped the money into bonfire right in front of him. “Paybacks are a bitch. Think about it next time you lay your hand on anyone.” Before you left it took a final spit on his face to feel empowered enough to return to your new home.

As the sun began to rise you rode back to Rafe’s, stopping at your shitty little apartment to get your things. Once you arrived at the house you began setting up your part of the room. 

You were hanging your clothes until you were pleasantly surprised to feel Rafe’s arms around your waist, “You know I’m glad I confessed my feelings after 9 years of having to deal with seeing you hang out with my lovely sister every day” “And I’m glad I was friends with your sister so I could see you every day for 9 years, even if Barry had to get involved” With that, Rafe planted a soft kiss on your lips. You finally felt safe.

I really am proud of how this turned out. I have more requests coming up so stay tuned

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #outerbanks #rafe cameron obx #topper thornton #asks #requests #obx smut #obx imagine #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks netflix #outerbanks edit #kooks #my writing

[apoguecalledjj]

Fixation (Chapter 7)

Series summary: Eleanor is new to the outer banks, and the pogues are quick to take her in. But so are the kooks, and as she grows closer with Rafe, trouble emerges. Trying to balance her relationship with the pogues and the kooks, as well as dealing with her own personal problems, Eleanor falls into a hole she may not be able to dig herself out of.

Chapter Word Count: 3383

Chapter Warnings: Physical abuse, drug use, vomiting, overdose, hospitals

Previous Parts: Ch. 1  Ch. 2  Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7

Taglist: @prejudic3 @maragritatimebaybee @drewxxrudy @outerbankslove @bricksatanakinswindow @alexa-playafricabytoto @gigi-june

The only words uttered from Rafe’s mouth on the drive home were “What the fuck.” The fact that he had even allowed her into his truck shocked Ellie, for once, instead of taking a chance to beat up a pogue, he simply grabbed Ellie’s arm and yanked him to his truck.

JJ’s eyes had met hers as she was forcefully dragged away, his eyes filled with worry as he glanced at the tight grip Rafe had on her, but she shook her head and discreetly gave him a thumbs up, letting him know she was okay. Even if she wasn’t sure she was.

Rafe’s hands now clutched the wheel tightly, his knuckles white and shaking. Every so often he would glance over, anger prominent on his face, before shaking his head and turning back towards the road.

“Rafe,” Ellie started, quietly, scared of angering him even more. He didn’t respond, instead just simply grunting at her voice. “Rafe, I love you, I swear. I do.”

“Do you? It sounds like there’s a but.” Rafe didn’t turn his attention from the road. The calmness in his voice terrified Ellie.

“There’s no but. I’m sorry, babe. He started to lean in and before I could even stop him-” She trailed off, cursing herself internally. Rafe hated JJ enough as it was, and now she had thrown him completely under the bus even though they were equally at fault for the kiss. 

“Ellie I don’t care.” Ellie looked at him, biting her lip in confusion. “I know what the fucking pogues are like. Especially JJ.”

He pulled into the driveway of his house, pushing the truck into park and jumping out before Ellie could even move. He was waiting for her, he plucked open the passenger side door and motioned for her to get out.

Both her feet had barely touched the ground before Rafe shoved her roughly into the side of the truck. “You shouldn’t have been fucking around him though,” He snarled into her ear, his fingers digging deep into her shoulder blades, her back pressed against the truck.

“I’m sorry, Rafe,” Ellie choked out, her shoulders burning with pain. Rafe pushed her against the truck harshly once more before pulling away.

“It’s okay, baby. I know you won’t do it again. I love you.” 

Ellie nodded quickly, wiping away a couple of stray tears that had leaked from her eyes. “I love you too.”

“I’m going to take a shower. Wait for me in my room?” Rafe didn’t wait for a response, immediately moving to go into the house. Ellie wasn’t far behind him. 

All she could think about was getting high. She needed something to distract her from everything. The fact that she and JJ had kissed. The fact that she enjoyed it. The realization that she was scared of her boyfriend, who she knew she had no true feelings for, and that she couldn’t stop thinking about JJ. 

Ellie knew exactly where Rafe kept his coke, but she was shocked to see way more than she was used to in the drawer. Immediately, she ripped open the bag, preparing a line and wasting no time snorting it.

A few lines later, Rafe emerged from the bathroom, a towel draped low on his waist and his hair still dripping wet. “Oh fuck Ellie what are you doing? That’s the shit I was supposed to sell for barry.” He ran a finger through his hair, clearly stressed, his gaze locked on Ellie, and the abundance of powder in front of her.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow, Rafe. I’ll pay you back. Just c’ mere. I got a line here for you.”

Rafe would never turn down coke, and soon, the two of them were laughing and giggling together, the night finally going right. Everything from before was forgotten, and all Ellie could focus on was that moment. The kiss, the fight, all forgotten as she did line after line after line. --- JJ was stressed and none of the pogues could calm him down. “I should call her.” He stood up suddenly from his spot on the couch, looking towards where his phone was charging in the kitchen of the chateau. It was late now, nearing 1 AM, and nearing 7 hours since Rafe had dragged Ellie away, causing her to miss her shift.

“You can’t call her man. She’s with Rafe. It’ll make things worse.” Pope spoke from where he was sat next to JJ. The four of them, Pope, John B, Kiara, and Sarah, had immediately left The Wreck and came back to the chateau after finding JJ stood in shock alone with his head in his hands outside.

“She’s doing fucking drugs, Pope! And now she’s gone home with Rafe. You didn’t see the way he grabbed her. He’s gonna hurt her, I know it. And I didn’t do shit! I should have done something. He’s gonna hurt her because of me. It’s all my fucking fault!” JJ rambled on, yelling and clenching his fists. 

John B rushed across the room and grabbed him, trying to calm him down. “JJ. You gotta stop. If you would have touched Rafe it wouldn’t have helped and you know that. She’s okay. Rafe’s not gonna hurt her.”

JJ sat back down, defeated. He was exhausted, his head spinning. All he could think about was confessing to Ellie, kissing Ellie, Rafe grabbing Ellie. Ellie doing coke. So many things Ellie didn’t deserve. He searched, searched his brain so hard for reasons Ellie would turn to Rafe, and give in to doing drugs. He found nothing.

“I texted her, JJ. She messaged back. She said she’s good. And there’s a smiley face. You can relax now,” Kiara said. She turned her phone screen towards JJ, allowing him to read the texts.

“We still caught her snorting coke,” JJ reminded her. He was stressed, terrified for Ellie, he wanted nothing more than to rush over to figure 8 and help her.

“We’ll help her in the morning, JJ. We’re not gonna let this go any farther, but there’s nothing more we can do tonight. Not while she’s with the brother.” Sarah told JJ. “Right now we should just try to get some sleep. She works tomorrow, right Kie?” Kiara nodded, and Sarah continued, standing up from where she was sat. “Exactly, so let’s get some sleep now, and we’ll talk to her in the morning. We can meet her at the wreck, first thing.”

Reluctantly, JJ agreed and made his way to the spare bedroom. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, he finally fell asleep, but not before setting an alarm for 8:30, a half-hour before the start of Ellie’s shift. --- One minute, Ellie was feeling great. All her stress was gone, her mind free of any negativity. Euphoria rushed over her, her body lazily leaned up against Rafe’s as she gazed at the ceiling.

The next minute, she was anxious. She had no idea what changed, or what she was anxious over. Suddenly, it felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her throat was tight, her heart thumping so hard she could feel it. Ellie was so aware of everything, her body touching Rafe’s, his hair tickling her face. The way her shirt stuck to her body. 

Her hands slightly trembled, and she tried her best to stop them before Rafe noticed, but she felt as if she couldn’t focus on anything. Rafe felt her shaking, which was quickly getting worst, and pulled away to look at her. “Ellie? What’s wrong?”

Ellie opened her mouth but she couldn’t speak, instead beginning to gag as a wave of nausea rushed over her so quick she hardly noticed. Sweat pooled on her forehead, down her back, and god, why was her shirt sticking to her so fucking bad? She tried to pull it away but her body was trembling, she couldn’t get a grip on the fabric.

“Gonna throw up,” She mumbled as she continued to gag, her vision blurring as excessive heat came over her. She was so hot. So fucking hot. What was going on? Her heart, beating, beating so quick, it was gonna come out of her chest. Her heart was gonna beat out of her chest.

Ellie’s breathing quickened, she tried to focus on her heart, trying to slow it down so it wouldn’t beat right out of her chest, but everything was swirling, why was everything swirling?

Rafe picked her up quickly, rushing to the bathroom. he placed her gently on the floor but realized shortly after that she couldn’t hold herself up. He held her up to the toilet, and it didn’t take her long to empty the contents of her stomach- the alcohol she had drunk earlier that night. She had forgotten about that.

Rafe cursed, this was the last thing he wanted to deal with tonight. Ellie had never gotten hungover this bad before, so why now? They hardly had any, and It wasn’t even the next morning. He swore again as he felt her go limp in his arms, she had fallen asleep, he assumed.

He picked her up once again, carrying her to the bed. The heat radiating from her body scared Rafe. He placed her in his bed, before going back to the bathroom to get a cold cloth for her forehead.

What the fuck was wrong with her? He had never experienced something like this before. He was used to dealing with hangovers, he got them al the time, and Topper was a lightweight. He had dealt with comedowns from coke, dealt with Ellie’s comedowns specifically, and it had never been like this. 

How much had she done tonight anyway? Rafe realized he didn’t know. He glanced at the multiple bags sitting on his desk from where he was sitting next to Ellie’s still trembling body, and finally noticed how many of them were empty. Was she overdosing? He couldn’t call an ambulance. That would get him, and Ellie probably, in trouble, and she wouldn’t want that. She would probably wake up in a few hours, perfectly fine. Yeah, Rafe thought, she’ll wake up perfectly fine.

Her phone lit up from where she had thrown it on the bed earlier. A text from Kiara, asking how she was. Rafe frowned, enraged at the reminder that his girlfriend was friends with the pogues, but the last thing he needed was them showing up here, so he sent a text back.

Ellie’s body jerked roughly. And then again. Rafe turned to look at her and his heart immediately dropped, her body jerking and twitching much more than before. Was this a seizure? There was drool, slightly dripping from her mouth, and Rafe officially panicked. This was bad. This was really fucking bad.

He turned Ellie on her side, he managed to remember that. Then he rushed across the room, quickly chucking the plastic bags with remnants of white powder into the back of his quite cluttered drawer.

Finally, after one last look at Ellie’s twitching body, he called an ambulance, gave them directions and instructions, and left. --- 8:45 the next morning, the pogues were at The Wreck. The five of them were sat at a corner table, silent. JJ twiddled with his fingers nervously, looking up every couple of minutes to check the door.

Kiara’s eyes didn’t move, they were fixated on the front door, waiting for Ellie to walk in perfectly okay. None of them would admit it, in fear of making JJ’s anxiety worse, but they were all worried about Ellie’s wellbeing.

Pope glanced at his watch. “It’s 9,” He muttered, leaning to peer out to the parking lot for any sign of Ellie’s truck.

“She’s never late,” JJ spoke quietly, his jaw clenched as he gazed around the room.

“JJ, I’m sure she’s fine, just give her 10 minutes.” But Kiara’s voice wavered, she was unsure as well, constantly checking her phone for the time. “She’s never late,” JJ repeated.

5 minutes passed, then 15. 20. Still, no sign of Ellie and the morning rush was about to begin. Mr. Carrera came out of the kitchen, a deep frown etched into his face as he made his way to the teens in the corner.

“Kiara? Eleanor’s meant to be here. Do you know where she is?” His voice was stern, it was obvious that he was disappointed.

“We don’t know dad, we’re worried about her. We were waiting for her to show up.” At Kiara’s words, his face softened, and he gestured towards the kitchen.

“Come back. We’ll make some phone calls. I’m sure she’s okay.” He placed his hand gently on his daughter's shoulder as she bit her lip nervously.

Kiara followed her dad to the back, leaving her four friends. Pope’s stare was fixated on nothing, he was staring ahead blankly, not knowing what to think. John B ran his hand through his hair, over and over again, it was getting greasy but that was the last thing he cared about. Tears welled in Sarah’s eyes, the thought of her brother hurting her new friend tearing her apart. JJ’s lip quivered, he was trying his best not to cry but wasn’t doing a good job. No one mentioned it, the fact that JJ was openly crying just showed how serious the situation really was.

No one spoke, no one had anything to say. They all cared about Ellie, she had weaseled her way into their hearts and they all considered her a good friend.

Kiara burst out of the kitchen, the door banging loudly against the wall as she ran causing multiple customers to look up. Her movements were frantic as she darted across the room, her eyes wide with shock. JJ jumped up, knowing something was wrong.

“Come on guys we have to go.” Kiara didn’t stop, instead just motioned for her friends to follow her to the van. “Ellie’s in the hospital.” --- The five of them rushed into the hospital, earning many glares from nurses and doctors as they did. Pope was the first to spot Travis Adair sitting on the other side of the waiting room, and they made their way over to him quickly.

Travis stood up, his face furious as he faced the three pogue boys. “You,” He snarled. “Was this your fault?”

It was obvious that it was only directed at the three pogues, the two kook girls not included in his discriminatory accusations. Sarah but in, using her kook status to her advantage. “Travis, none of us know what happened. We love Ellie and we’ve been worried all morning. This isn’t any of our faults, she was with my brother last night.”

Travis’s expression turned to confusion. “Rafe?” Sarah simply nodded, and Travis sat down, sighing deeply. “I suppose I should tell you what happened, then.” He paused. “I’m sorry for blaming you.”

JJ nodded curtly, normally he would be offended but at this moment, he just needed to know what happened to Ellie.

“She overdosed on cocaine. The doctors said the levels in her body were extreme, and there were also traces of alcohol. An ambulance was called to the Cameron residence, but there was no one to be found there, besides her.” He nodded towards Sarah. “I assumed she was with you guys, but now I know I was wrong.”

JJ rubbed his jaw, he needed to know if Ellie was okay. He didn’t doubt that the levels of cocaine in her body were high, Rafe often had lots and he was an idiot when it came to drugs. It angered him even more that she had been left alone, Rafe didn’t even have the decency to stay with her and make sure she was okay. His hands balled into fists by his side, if he wasn’t so desperate to see Ellie he would have already left to beat the shit out of Rafe.

Travis continued. “They found her seizing, unconscious. She had vomited multiple times. I was told the seizure could have been avoided if the ambulance would have been called earlier. But, Rafe, I guess, didn’t call when he should have.”

“How is she now?” John B asked.

“Stable, but still unconscious. They have no idea when she’ll wake up, so we’re just waiting it out. She’s allowed one visitor at a time, Annette is in with her now, but one of you can go in next.”

They all looked at JJ. Of course, he should be the one to see her first, they all agreed on that. He simply nodded, accepting that he would be the first one to see her.

“We know about her mom,” Kiara spoke softly, looking up from the tiled floor to meet Travis’s eyes.

He nodded. “That’s another factor in this. I was unsure if she would have told you guys or not, she was pretty set on keeping it secret. I guess that shows she really does trust you guys.”

‘Will she have to go to rehab?” Pope inquired.

“We haven’t decided yet.” 

At that moment, Annette appeared from down the hallway, smiling softly at the teenagers surrounding her husband. “I’m assuming one of you want to be the next to see her?” Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

“JJ,” Kiara exclaimed, pushing him forward. “JJ’s going first.”

Everything was a blur to him as he walked down the hallway. “117, 117, 117,” He mumbled to himself, not wanting to forget it. He bumped into someone, he wasn’t sure who, and mumbled an apology but didn’t stop. All he was fixated on was the numbers on the doors.

117. He found it and pushed the door open slowly. At first glance, the room seemed empty, there was no sign of any movement. But it didn’t take long for the steady beeps to reach JJ’s ears, and he walked over towards the bed, a tear falling from his eye once again as he finally took in Ellie’s appearance.

She was pale, paler than he had ever seen her. Her lips were chapped, aching for the lip balm she usually applied religiously. An IV was in her hand, which was rested on the bed behind her. The makeup she had been wearing the night before was smudged under her eyes, no one must have had a chance to take it off. He made a mental note to tell Kiara to bring makeup wipes and lip balm later. 

JJ sat in the chair next to her and gently took her hand into his. It was limp, which worried him, but the heart monitor next to the bed assured him she was alive. 

“El,” He whispered, even though she couldn’t hear him. “El I’m sorry I didn’t help you in time. I shouldn’t have let you leave with Rafe.” His voice shook as he started to cry. “I know I said this yesterday but I have to say it again. You’re doing things to me El, I’m fucking crazy about you. And-” He choked back a sob. “It’s scaring me. I’ve never felt like this before, and it’s really scaring me. And now, seeing you here like this, it’s, it’s tearing me apart.

“You gotta wake up soon, El. I need to see your beautiful eyes again. I want to see you smile and hear your voice.” JJ let out a light chuckle through his cries. “Oh, El, if you could see me now you’d tease me, I know it. All sappy and sad, crying. I never used to cry, not in front of anyone, anyways. I think the pogues have seen me cry more today then they have since they've known me.”

JJ squeezed her hand gently. “Last night I told you I was falling in love with you, but I take that back. The falling is already done. I’m in love with you, El, and I’m terrified. I don’t know what to do, or how to do this. I never knew what I wanted in life, but now I do. It’s you, Eleanor. All I want is you.”

JJ waited quietly, knowing it was far fetched yet praying anyway for some type of response, but instead was just left with the beep, beep, beep of the machine by the bed.

#outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks one shot #obx #obx fic #obx imagine #obx one shot #obx netflix #jj #jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagine #outer banks jj maybank #jj x oc #jj maybank x oc #rafe #rafe cameron

[sweetpaopao]

FMA 2003 (Re)Watch

I recently planned a hybrid watch of both the 2003 series and Brotherhood; the original plan was to skip over to BH at the divergence point, but I was enjoying the first part of 03 so much that I decided to keep going. I saw 03 when it aired on TV back in the day and watched BH a few years after it was released, so while both are technically rewatches, a lot of 03 was hazy. Also FYI, I was switching back and forth between sub and dub kind of randomly throughout my watch.

A bunch of random thoughts:

-The first half of 03 is done really well, and I enjoyed it a lot. I like the extra time they spent on the early arcs, and I really enjoyed the episode on the train, the one with Barry, and the one with Yoki. I did skip that one filler with the thief because I remember it being super cringe.  

-The music is good. Of course "Brothers" is the best, but I like a lot of the other tracks too.

-The origin of the Homunculi as failed transmutations is neat. It's creative, works with the established setup of alchemy, and makes the Homunculi relatable and sympathetic. They mention Lust being "the new Lust" several times, which makes me wonder how many different versions of the Sins have existed over the centuries, and what happened to each of them.  

-I like the extra screen time and development that Lust received. Though she loses points for getting "Cotton Eye Joe" stuck in my head on multiple occasions, lol  

-Al seems way younger in this version. He's supposed to be a year behind Ed, but he acts like he's 3-4 years younger. I think it's mainly the writing, but the dub voice actor might contribute to this, since it's obvious it's an actual child and not an adult doing a child's voice.  

-Sloth is 100% better in 03 than in BH, hands down. I do wish she had been given a little more development, at least as much as Lust was given, since she's so connected to the main characters. Her water powers were cool..."death by evaporation" is definitely unique.  

-On the other hand, I friggin' HATE Wrath. He's an insufferable brat, and his voice made me want to stab out my ears (no offense to either voice actor - it's the part that's the problem. It's impossible to NOT be obnoxious when 80% of your lines are screeching and/or whining). I also hate that he looks so much like Envy...character design 101 says that each character should have their own distinct look, so I can't fathom why they would make him look like Envy Jr instead of giving him his own design. At least give him different clothes? Cut his hair, or put it in a ponytail?  

-Greed had barely any part in the story at all. The poor guy was practically a "Hi and die". His death scene was one of the things I had strong memories of, but I thought it was much later, near the very end of the series (I think the library in Dante's house and the ballroom in that city merged together in my mind). The lack of Greed love was a little disappointing, since he's my favorite homunculus.  

-It's sometimes said that Winry doesn't have much of a part in this series, which honestly is wrong - she's in it a lot, just not as a love interest. I liked her espionage plotline with Sheska.  

-Sheska got way more screentime here. I don't really care all that much about her, but I can see where she would have favorite character potential for some people (or waifu potential, even). I laughed out loud at the "she's an alien" line.  

-Havoc is a shyguy and very much NOT a badass stud, lol  

-Hohenheim...uh. I absolutely hated everything they did with him. He's basically a villain, he was a creep to Ross, he looks like a drowned rat, and he literally stinks. Poor Hoho, why did they do this to you?  

-Riza also got screwed. She had that one cool manga scene where she saves Mustang by tripping him, and then proceeded to get shit on for the rest of the series. She was basically an unintelligent lump who exists to be talked down to and treated like an annoyance. And speaking of the Colonel...  

-Dear God, 03 Mustang is a DICK. I remember he was popular back in the day, so fans must have had a high douchebag tolerance then. He got so bad at points that my finger was itching to skip ahead every time he opened his mouth, and I nearly punched the screen when he told Hawkeye to "wipe that crap off your face" in that one scene. Christ. I vastly, VASTLY prefer his softer Brotherhood personality.  

-Ed is kind of a dick in this version too. They took the short-tempered hothead aspect of him and leaned on it too far, IMHO. He seems to have 100% contempt for everyone in the world except Al, who he only has 50% contempt for. I had occasionally had similar reactions to him that I had to Mustang. Again, Ed had a softer personality in BH that I strongly prefer.  

-This leads into my main complaint about the 03 series...it has a "mean streak", especially in the 2nd half. It's hard to explain, but it's like there's this undercurrent of cynicism that runs through it, and it comes out in the writing, especially in the characters. It gives me the same kind of feeling that I get from things like Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead...this uneasy atmosphere of negativity and bitterness that leaves me feeling kind of gross afterward.  

-Overall, I have mixed feelings about this series. The first half was great! I like the slower pace and the small-scale worldbuilding (I seriously want to take a train ride around Amestris), and the more intimate focus on Ed and Al at the beginning. I like that the writers took the small amount of source material that they had and developed it to its maximum potential. But once they ran out of manga to adapt, I think things slowly went downhill. My enjoyment gradually decreased episode by episode, until I was kind of relieved to reach the end.  

-I'm glad I rewatched this series, since there was a lot that I had forgotten about, and some parts brought back a lot of good memories. The first half will probably go on my regular rewatch list, but I doubt I'll ever want to revisit the 2nd half again. I appreciate the effort they put into this series, and it's definitely worth watching. But overall Brotherhood will stay as my favorite version (and I'll be rewatching that soon too).  

#fma #Fullmetal alchemist #fma 03 #fmab

[softdadcarlos]

Reunion 2: The Inbetween

Masterlist

Fandom: Resident Evil/Biohazard

Pairing: Jill/Carlos

AU: Family Life

Summary: Set after Chris tells Carlos and before Jill’s return, we see how Carlos struggles as a single father while dealing with his grief. 

Carlos rested his head against the door after he showed Chris out, letting loose a long shaky breath. She was gone. She wouldn’t be coming back. At least not anytime soon because Carlos refused to accept she was dead until he saw a body. And they did not have one. So, for the sake of their baby girl, he couldn’t doubt her will to live and drive to come back home. A part of him blamed himself, he let her go on that mission to find that fucking Spencer guy. He let her go and lost her for it. After a blissful two years of just them and their daughter, he lost her. A larger part of him blamed the B.S.A.A for sending out teams of two because of course with such tiny squads someone was going to go to an extreme to save their teammate. He didn’t blame Chris at all, just by looking at the man Carlos could see the guilt weighing him down.

He pushed himself away from the door and made his way up to Eliza’s room. He had placed her in her playpen there with large soft toys after inviting Chris in. She might have only been two but she was smart enough to understand what is being said around her. Hell, she was starting to string together sentences in three different languages. He slowly pushed open the door, not making a sound, and stood there watching her as she played. For now, she was all he had of Jill other than pictures, clothes, an empty side of the bed and a lifeless office. He watched as she brushed the hair out of her doll’s face.

“Mucho mejor (much better)! You pwetty dolly.”

How was he meant to tell her that Mama wouldn’t be coming back? That it’d just be her and Papa for a while until Uncle Chris finds her? He covered his face with one hand and took a deep breath. He had to be strong for her. He can save his tears once he put her to sleep. Jesus Christ he knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep for god knows how long.

Eliza must have heard him as she whipped around to face him, “Papa! Where Unc’ Cwis and Mama?”

Carlos swallowed the lump in his throat, he needed to think fast. Looking around her room for inspiration, he spotted her chibi moon bedsheets. That’s it!

Carlos lifted her out of the pen and bounced her slightly like he used to do to soothe her when she was a newborn, “Remember when Usagi got captured by Prince Demande and Tuxedo mask and the sailor scouts had to save her?” Eliza nodded, her thumb in her mouth, “Well when Mama and Uncle Chris were on a mission, Mama got taken by a bad man when she was trying to save Uncle Chris from them. So now Uncle Chris is going to find and rescue her.”

Eliza dropped her thumb with a gasp, “Mama got captured! No no! Es no bueno!”

He felt powerless as Eliza’s bottom lip quivered, fat tears rolling down her chubby freckled cheeks. He tried his best to wipe her tears away one-handed before giving up and just cradling her against him, letting her cry.

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The first couple of months were hard. It was difficult to get used to Jill not being there. He was at a loss at what to do. Especially when Barry informed him that the B.S.A.A were holding a funeral for Jill. They didn’t even have her body and they were already putting her name six-feet in the dirt. It made him feel sick. He refused to go. Instead, Barry, Rebecca, Claire, Leon and Sherry came over offering their support and understanding. Carlos was very much thankful for that. He was thankful that at least they didn’t act like she was already dead. Sherry volunteered to help him around the house and with Eliza but he rejected the idea. He and Eliza didn’t need a replacement, they would make do until their family was whole again.

One thing he had taken to from the very first night was talking to a picture of Jill, the only one that was just of her. She was never fond of having her picture taken, especially alone. He would just talk about how he felt, how much he missed her, what he did that day and how Eliza was doing. Which led to him having the brainwave of writing a diary that recorded Eliza day by day so Jill wouldn’t have missed a thing. He could already feel her guilt over missing Eliza’s little moments in his soul.

Jill’s birthday came and went and Carlos’ heart ached for it. It ached for their daughter who placed an illegible handmade birthday card by their wedding picture, as if her mother would magically appear like Santa Claus on Christmas day. That night he put her to sleep on Jill’s side before heading downstairs to let the other former S.T.A.R.S members and their friends in. They all shared a drink in her memory while sharing stories about her, just to feel close to her. This gave him another idea. He didn’t want Jill to fade from Eliza’s memory while she was gone. So that night he decided that he would tell her stories of Jill every night and show her pictures from the family photo album during the day.

Their first Christmas without her hurt. And with Eliza’s arising mischievousness, he was hopeless at hiding presents from her. He couldn’t help but think that if Jill was there, she would’ve known where to hide the presents from their daughter’s prying eyes. But he was thankful that it wasn’t just him and Eliza. Thankful that Barry came over with his family baring gifts and a Santa costume. Then Claire and Leon with decorations and desserts as well as an announcement that Eliza would have a ‘cousin’ soon. Carlos felt a pang in his chest. Jill would’ve loved to have been there to hear it, to congratulate them as they had her. It was loud and joyous like Christmas with family should be, but Carlos couldn’t shake the emptiness he felt.

When his birthday came, he found he missed the smell of burnt toast as Jill would try and fail to make him some form of breakfast. He missed walking into the kitchen and hugging her from behind as he teased her mercilessly. He missed her stoney mask and watching it crumble into that radiant smile reserved only for him and later Eliza too. His only solace was the sleeping child starfishing and snoring loud enough to wake someone from a coma. He smiled down at her, biting his lip to hold back tears so that she wouldn’t see them if he accidentally woke her. He noticed her hair had grown so much in the last six months and her third birthday was fast approaching. He hoped that Chris would find Jill before then.

It was their wedding anniversary before he knew it. And as much as he hated to be apart from Eliza, he let Barry take her for the day. He needed this day to grieve without being interrupted. To let himself wade through the pool of sorrow in his heart and try to drown it with expensive wine he had saved for this day to share with Jill. What would she think if she walked through the door and saw him in that state? His hair in desperate need of a cut, his beard scruffy and overgrown. Would she tenderly trace the discoloured skin under his eyes and kiss him better? He wished. He wished she was there so he could give her the gift he still bought with the tiny sliver of hope that she’d be back by now.

Leading up to Eliza’s birthday Carlos watched lots of video tutorials on a new-ish website called Youtube. Learning how to style hair because someone in this family had to know how to do their daughter’s hair and in the time he was with Jill, he never witnessed her styling her own hair. He didn’t want Eliza to be upset on her day, so on the morning of her third birthday, Carlos woke her to breakfast in bed - pancakes. And once she had scoffed them all down, he sat her on his lap, combing through her hair and making quick work to put it up in a plaited bun. He helped her to pick an outfit to wear for the day, choosing khaki shorts and a Saint Seiya tshirt. ‘Granpa’ Barry, as Eliza had taken to calling him, came over with a gift but couldn’t stay long. Claire came over with Sherry, she was heavily pregnant and let Eliza feel the baby kick. She said Leon couldn’t be there because he got sent out on a mission but he was on his way back. Carlos felt an ounce of jealousy that Claire knew her partner was safe and sound then immediately felt bad for it. While Sherry and Claire kept Eliza’s attention in the living room, Carlos went into the kitchen to bake the birthday cake.

Far too soon it was a year since Jill’s disappearance. Chris tried to send him monthly updates on his progress in trying to find her but sometimes he couldn’t. Sometimes he just had nothing to report. This was one of those times.

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A/N:  I love hearing from you guys! Please tell me what parts you liked!

Requests are temporarily closed :)  I'm also on twitter @mxbelmounte. If you like what I write please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi (no pressure though I’m well aware there’s a pandemic going on)

#carlos x jill #jill x carlos #valeveira #resident evil #carlos oliveira #jill valentine #boop

[smokeybrand]

Breaking the Rules

So the Snyder Cut finally dropped. Four hours of Snyderisms like slow-mo, dumb kinetic camera work, and relentless edge. Now, I'm a card-carrying Marvel shill. Been real transparent about it for years. Marvel is my sh*t and Spider-Man is my favorite superhero. That said, i do like DC. I always give them a fair shake. Hell, my favorite capeflick is The Dark Knight. I even like Watchmen and that was a slog to get through. I’ve seen every film in the DCEU and they have left me wanting. A lot of DC heads write off my opinion because of my Marvel bias but let’s be serious; The DCEU is inferior to the MCU in almost every way. As it is, the DCEU needs to be better. It needs better storytellers. It needs a better plan. It needs a Feige. Snyder is not that dude and i don’t think Wan is either. I think WB and ATT have to figure out a way to coalesce this sh*t because it’s all wonky, especially now that we have this Snyder Cut. I’ve already reviewed a Justice League before so all of the observations i made about performances in that, stand. This is more what i think this version does better and worse.

The Better

This opening is much better and makes more sense. That Super Death Wail as the principal genesis of Steppenwolf’s conflict, the thing that wakes that first Motherbox, makes way more sense that whatever the f*ck Whedon did.

This thing definitely looks so much more gorgeous that that first run. Zack Snyder can’t plot a story to save his life but this motherf*cker can compose a shot, for real. Snyder is an idea man, a cat that just wants to make cool looking sh*t, but this ain’t the medium for that. You can have all the beautiful shots in the world but if they are tied together by a shoestring of a narrative, then it’s just polished sh*t, you know?

The extended Aquaman intro was outstanding. Whedon didn’t let this scene breath and, seeing it as it was intended, that was a mistake. Seeing this version of Justice League kind of makes Josstice League in it’s entirety, a mistake. It’s weird that this was cut because it’s so good and shows so much more of Arthur.

Jeremy Iron’s Alfred continues to be my second favorite Alfred after Michael Caine. Sorry, Michael Gough...

Wonder Woman’s first scene in this, the one with the terrorists, is ridiculous. This one scene is a perfect example of the difference between the two versions of this film. Snyder’s is better, if way more brutal than it needed to be. Still, i love the warrior version of Diana so I'm good with this.

Speaking of Amazons, Snyder, apparently, put them in more clothes this time around? I couldn’t really see for sure because of the color correction but it didn’t seem like they weren’t rocking those iron bikinis like in the Whedon cut. I think Joss Whedon might be a bit more problematic than we think. Between the half naked chicks, the way he kept sexualizing Diana, the fact that there are no people of color in his version or the way he shortchanged the entirety of Cyborg’s plot... Breh.

Steppenwolf is SO much more menacing in this version of the movie. Dude feels like a force, like a proper threat an not just some stop-gap for something better. Ol’ Wolfie was a decent antagonist for an initial run at an Avengers-esque team up for the DCEU. Definitely more Loki this time around and less Ultron like the first time.

Also, the Parademons look much more dope. The first time, they looked like fodder. This time, they actual felt like a force, like a horde.

Hey, we got an Atom sighting!

Not a ton of Iris West but enough to wet my appetite. Anytime i get to see Kiersey Clemons in stuff, I'm happy. Having it tied to an outstanding sequence demonstrating Flash’s powers was just icing on the cake. Seriously, Snyder did a great job visualizing Barry’s abilities. That scene where he saved everyone from the debris and then the subtle reversing of time; All of it was dope to see.

Are those Starros that Steppenwolf is using to “interrogate” the cats with Motherbox stink on them? They look like little mechanical Starros. I hope they’re Starros.

Lots of Cyborg stuff. Like, intricate Cyborg stuff. The sh*t Whedon cut of Vic was instrumental to the coherency of this story and dude was just like, “Nah.” It’s no wonder that version of the movie doesn’t make any f*cking sense.

Hey, we got a Spectre sighting! Nice.

The explanation for the Motherboxes and their mcguffin-ness goes a long way to soothing the whole “resurrecting Superman” thing. Snyder basically tells the audience they’re magic boxes that can do anything because of magic-technology. It’s a little ridiculous considering what Motherboxes actually do in the comics but whatever. It makes sense in this universe i guess.

All of the action scenes are better. All of them. Snyder is nothing if not a cat that can actualize a dope punch-out. Dude can’t get out of his own way when telling a story but if you need a fight scene, Snyder is definitely your guy.

Speaking of, that climax was WAY better. It carried far more weight and there were times when the heroes felt like they could lose. There’s an unrelenting tension that grips you hard and doesn’t let up until it finally does. I appreciated this way more than the first one, even if it’s dumb edgy for no reason.

The Worst

Zack still doesn’t understand these characters, man. It’s very apparent to me that a lot of this is just window dressing for kind of a Zack Snyder fan fic version of DC and that’s fine i guess? Sh*t’s not my cup of tea but a great many people seem to like it. Dude’s writing can definitely be tighter and he can skew a little more toward the heart of these characters but i mean, it’s called Zack Snyder’s Justice league for a reason.

The Snyderisms, man, they are all over this thing. Look, i just don’t like how Zack makes movies. Too much style, not enough substance, or rather, not enough focus. He has a ton of great ideas but gets too bogged down in how sh*t looks, or tumbles down his rabbit hole of concept but never expresses any of them clearly enough. Outside of 300 or Dawn of the Dead, this film is probably the most focused I've ever seen Snyder and it’s still kind of all over the place yet, never where it needs to be.

So many plot holes, man. Less than before, but so many threads left untied.

This thing didn’t need to be four hours long. Not even close. There were several shots that i thought could have been cut. Like, that three hour version which got the standing ovation was probably the best version of Justice League and we’ll never see it. This version is definitely better than the theatrical run but f*ck is it long. You really feel that sh*t, too.

Cyborg still looks gross to look at. You’d think they’d try and make his weird, angular, body look a bit better upon the redo but nope. This what we get i guess.

Also, why the f*ck the Atlanteans sound British? Why they make Amber Heard do that accent? She can’t do that accent, man. You’re actually asking a chick who’s professionally pretty to act and she can’t act. She’s just pretty. That actually brings up an interesting question; Is Aquaman canon to this universe because Mera in that doesn’t have an accent and her Pops is still alive. This one has an accent and her parents are dead. Or maybe the accent makes it easier to recast Heard later with a British actress? Maybe the Mother of Dragons really is about to be the Queen of the Seas?

Why is this Knightmare sequence in here? Sure, it was awesome to see, pure fan service, but this is the blue balls of blue balls because we don’t have a movie to follow this one. This is it. This is all the Justice League we’re getting. There is no part two or whatever. Why even hint at something more?

The Verdict

There’s a lot to like about this version of Justice League. It is, hands down, better than Josstice League in almost every way. Sh*t is a better film, man, and should have been what we got to begin with. WB did Snyder a disservice by letting him go and then letting Whedon butcher his movie. I don’t like Snyder’s take on DC. I think it’s try-hard, edgelord, nonsense but it is it’s own thing and i commend him for that. Dude has a vision and I'll never take away from from a creative’s inspiration. That said, this thing was a slog to get through. It’s definitely better than what we got before but it’s still not that great and it’s way too long. Three hours is more than enough to tell this story if you make prudent cuts. Still, I’m glad it exists and, if you’re a fan of this world, a fan of Snyder’s work, you’ll love it. For me, as a cat who has no skin in this game, I'm not all that impressed. Per usual, Snyder has too many ideas and that leaves the plot unfocused and meandering at times. In a genre that is predicated on storytelling, you can’t be a bad storyteller like that and just gloss over it with spectacle. That’s disingenuous. At the end of the day, it was entertaining. It was pretty to see. It was a Snyder film.

[adventuresloane]

Beyond Words

Taako & Lup

Rating: G

Words: 1.6k+

Read on AO3

((Repost from older ask meme!))

"I know it hurts," Lup says almost at the same moment he lets out another pained hiss. "I'm sorry." Both of his cheeks are scraped, and the disinfectant turns the constant dull burn into a sharper sting. This wouldn't be the first time he's been scratched up like this. It isn't even the first time he's gotten scratched up after being dragged around by the hair by a stall-keeper who'd caught him red-handed in a petty theft. By now, he knows it's got to feel worse before it feels better. That doesn't stop the tears from rolling down his face, mixing with the gritty dirt and the blood and the stinging stuff.

Her touch is ginger as the feet of a butterfly on his face. This is one of the only times she ever tries to hold back. She certainly didn't do anything of the sort when she was pounding on the fists of the shopkeeper, latching onto his burly arm and not letting go even when she was lifted off the ground. Not that it mattered.

"Sorry," she whispers with every other dab of the cloth. "Sorry."

"I know you're hungry," Taako murmurs as she feels the familiar scrape inside her belly. The hurt is low and deep, like shame. Lately, she's been turning tail on more fights than she would have liked--or, rather, Taako's been dragging her out of every potential scrap, even when she's primed to charge in screaming. It's terrible. It's humiliating, to receive parting blows to her back as they run away, and she sulks at Taako for it every time. But she knows he's right even in those moments. She couldn't very well fight when sometimes just standing up sometimes made her vision go dark.

He's sitting with his back to the fire, hunched over and turned away from her. She knows what he's doing, though, because it's the same thing he's been trying to work on for weeks. It makes her feel useless just lying there, but all the same, each one of her exhausted limbs anchors her to the ground. He's brandishing a scavenged wand that he threw together from a broken yew branch and a tiger's-eye bead that had "fallen" (been knocked) from a jeweler's stand. If he can just get the gesture right, the precise flick of his fingers, he could use transmutation magic to turn the bark in front of him to a meal for them both. She knew he could do it. She hoped.

In the past, he's succeeded some. The food he crafts from magic fills her. That's all it has to do at this point. But that doesn't stop him from doing what he can to make it taste less like cotton in her mouth. Wild onions and berries that they'd found in sparse patches, not nearly enough to make a meal but suitable for flavoring. Grasses and herbs from the roadside. A single acorn. He tries it all. They both do whenever they're able, stirring ingredients in shoulder-to-shoulder. They dip small fingers into pots together, making faces at each other in unison when the experiment ends up tasting like shit, relishing quietly when it doesn't.

"I know when you're cold, Taako," she says with not a little exasperation. For probably the eighteenth time that night, she's asked him whether he needs to share the blanket with her, and he's promptly denied it.

"What part of 'Taako's good out here' didn't you get?" he grumbles. She didn't have to be so insistent. He hasn't even been shivering--he learned long ago how to stop himself from doing it. It pisses him off, sometimes, how she just assumes shit about how he's feeling all the time. It pisses him off more that she's usually right.

"Yeah, sure." She pulls the thin wool blanket over to where he lies on the floor of the abandoned house that they've found for the night. Then she lies down and pulls it over the both of them before wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing up against him. The wool cloth is barely enough to fully wrap around one of them. The cold starts to lose its teeth, though, pulling away from his chilled skin.

Only the warmth isn't coming from the blanket. It's too immediate. It soaks into him and settles somewhere deep inside, like it's making a home, like it's always belonged there. It's centered on his belly, where her hands rest. He looks under the blanket, and it's only because of the darkness underneath that he can see her fingers, just faintly, glowing. "Lup?"

"Something new I'm working on," she says quietly against his back, and even turned away from her, he can hear the smile in her voice.

"Dope," he whispers back. On the other hand, it isn't always bad, her knowing without asking what'll make him feel better.

"Okay, I know you're tired, but listen, I finally figured it out." The slap of books on the table echoes through the floor of the library, earning him several shushes that he promptly ignores.

"You'd better have," she groans, forehead still pressed to wood grain. "If I spend another hour staring at this equation, I'm going to meld with this chair." It feels ungrateful even saying that. The IPRE Academy's dorm is both the most permanent and the most comfortable of homes they've had in years, and even if they've taken to doctoring up the bland cafeteria food with magic, they wouldn't trade their meal plan. The least she can do is put more effort into keeping the scholarship they've earned.

"Don't worry, I'll walk you through it, since as we're all aware by now I'm a goddamn genius. Hey, by the way, you look like death."

"Thanks for that," she mutters.

"You should skip class tomorrow. I'll tell the professor you were puking."

She sighs and finally lifts her head. "No, I should go, I'll just..." She trails off when she sees the cardboard Fantasy Starbucks cup that had been silently placed beside her. It smells of caramel and just the right amount of whip. She doesn't have to take the lid off to know that he got her order right.

"Koko...thanks."

"What?" he says, though she knows he heard her. "Here, let me show you how to solve this."

I know you want it, is what Lup says with the look she gives him. Her brows are arched and there's a smirk on her face and that's all the prompting he needs. He pulls the furry, five-colored, gloriously hideous jacket off the store rack and adds it to the heap he carries in both his arms. It's not like they'll have much time to shop for the two months that they'll be in space. Might as well get it in now.

Their coworkers at the IPRE will poke fun at both of them later for blowing their money on ugly crap. Let them. The only thing that matters is that the pair of them get it. Lup never asks why he needs a third pair of holographic pants. The whole point is that he doesn't need them at all, the same way she doesn't need a sequin dress she'll likely never wear--it's novelty, still, buying what they don't absolutely need. They'll surround themselves with total unnecessaries, to assure themselves that they're really and truly here, that they've made it to this place.

Lup also doesn't ask why he mends the same holes in shirts four times in a row, when he has so many others and it would be far less of an effort to just throw the old ones out. She doesn't ask why he saves everything, just like he doesn't have to ask why she dives for change she sees on the sidewalk. Nothing needs to be said.

I know you're out there, he thinks as he and Barry search yet another dripping cave. She's not here. He knows that they have to check anyway, leave no stone unturned and all that, but his gut tells him that it's yet another waste of time, that they'll hit the stone wall before long and find nothing. He would know if she were near, the same way he knows that she's not gone forever, yet. He thinks he would know right away if she were. He would cease to exist in his current form as soon as she left this world.

I know you're out there, she does not so much think as feel, because complete and coherent thought has not yet returned to her in this black place. She's a planet at the time of its birth, still formless and shifting unshaped in a lightless and soundless void. She doesn't know much yet--so little she knows, so little has come back to her--but she knows that she isn't who she was. She can't be, out of context. She can't be who she's supposed to be when she's not part of a system, when she's alone. The rest of her is somewhere among the stars that she can no longer see.

These people just don't get him. This old dwarf and beefy human he's traveling with, they ask him why he's so hellbent on stealing and raiding all the corpses for goods, why he needs to sleep near the fireplace even though the Bureau's rooms are well heated. He doesn't like questions, especially when they're about himself. He can't answer them. Why should he have to answer them? He doesn't have to explain himself. He's Taako, From TV. He's got needs.

He shouldn't get mad at them. It's not like he knows them either, or cares to. It's wrong, maybe, to expect that they should anticipate his needs, or that anyone should. But he feels like someone should. Just once, he thinks, he shouldn't have to ask before someone knows what he needs.

I know you, comes a voice from some dark place. Taako, I know who you are.

#taako #lup #taako taaco #lup taaco #taz lup #taz balance #taz fanfic #taz #the adventure zone #the zone cast #gen fic #hurt and comfort #angst #fluff and angst #fan fiction

[mobius-prime]

129. Knuckles the Echidna #26

The First Date (Part One of Three): She Loves You… (And You Know That Can't Be Bad!)

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Chris Allan Colors: Frank Gagliardo

So this arc is kind of… eh, awkward and dull. There's really no action, and it's all centered around love and dating and whatnot like we're suddenly watching a bad will-they-won't-they sitcom. Everything is extremely heteronormative - like look, I get this is the 90s, but everything is about "boys and girls" and just ends up sounding really juvenile as a result - and everyone is really out of character, too. I mean, do Knuckles or Julie-Su seem like the types to wander around all lovesick like shallow high schoolers? Not to mention the Chaotix, especially Vector, are… well… ugh, let's just jump into this and get it over with.

The Chaotix are hanging around in their usual burger joint, when Espio mentions that recently he's heard some surprising news about Prince Charmy - namely, that he's gotten engaged!

Now, you remember how a while back when the Chaotix were first introduced I had to clarify that unlike in the games, where he's six years old, in the comics he's sixteen? This is one of those moments that completely threw me when I first read the comics, because I had been operating under the assumption all this time that he was six. Now, obviously sixteen is still pretty damn young to be getting engaged, but I was sitting here with my eyebrows furrowed wondering why Charmy's friends didn't seem more concerned that this six year old child suddenly had a fiancée. I thought that his parents had arranged his marriage to Saffron (for whatever reason her name is misspelled in this issue, with only one F) and that by going back to his role as a prince he'd basically doomed himself to having his love life strictly controlled. But no, I guess somehow in the short time since he left the group and went back home, he got into a serious enough relationship with Saffron that he proposed (or hell, maybe she proposed, who knows). It's possible there was still pressure from his parents considering his heritage, but for now we can only assume that it was a totally voluntary action on his part to get engaged to Saffron, which is just… really, really weird.

Now Vector is very displeased to hear this. Vector is, in fact, something of a gigantic sexist douchebag in this issue, talking big about how no woman could handle him, prompting Espio and Mighty to joke that Julie-Su is more than his match if they were to go head to head in a fight. We then cut to Julie-Su angrily and viciously firing her blaster while shouting about Knuckles "running out on her."

Geez, man. You think her insurance covers blaster burn marks on the walls? She's mostly angry because she wants to talk to Knuckles one on one, but he's not there with her right now. He's with his father, in some kind of apartment-like space within Haven (it's not really clear, but I'm assuming Haven given we're talking about Locke here) as his father makes him breakfast. Out of nowhere, Knuckles asks his father about "why boys and girls get together," prompting Locke to immediately spit out his coffee. Knuckles, unfazed by the sudden brown-colored backwash all over the table, starts going on about how whenever he's around Julie-Su, he feels "weird."

This is maybe my least favorite part of Kenders' worldbuilding in the comic. Apparently, the Soultouch is an instant romantic attraction between two members of the opposite sex amongst echidnas, essentially love at first sight. It's not outright stated, but in case you haven't guessed, this is why Julie-Su so abruptly left the Dark Legion when she first spotted Knuckles many issues ago, feeling like she "had to find him" but didn't know why. Knuckles asks that if the Soultouch is accurate, why Locke and Lara-Le ended up splitting up, to which Locke shrugs and says that he doesn't know, but even the best of relationships require a lot of work, which is maybe the most accurate thing written in this entire arc. Knuckles then utterly hilariously, and completely accidentally, makes his case for homosexuality by saying he thinks things would be easier if guys stuck with guys and girls stuck with girls, noting that he gets along way easier with his male friends and "doesn’t even think about other girls." Kenders clearly wasn't meaning to characterize Knuckles as a closeted gay, but that's how it comes across and it's amazing. Let Knuckles be gay if he wants, man!

Meanwhile, out on the street, Espio and Mighty start challenging Vector's flippant attitude toward women, taunting him that he probably doesn't even have the backbone to ask a girl out on a date right now. Vector, his fragile masculinity sufficiently rattled, stomps away and begins casing out the women in the area in perhaps the most uncomfortably out of character series of panels I've ever seen.

*sigh* Kenders… why in the unholy hell… did you think this was okay? Remember the sweet but clueless Vector in Sonic X who did his utmost to help Vanilla out and give her nice things because he had a crush on her, not caring about how "hot" she was or that she was a single mother with a little kid? Yeah, this isn't him. Ugh.

Julie-Su, meanwhile, has had enough of moping around in her apartment and takes a walk outside, trying to think of ways she can improve herself and become more confident. She happens to pass by a clothing boutique and glance inside, and as she muses to herself that perhaps she needs to stop being so serious all the time and learn to have a little fun - probably a good idea, considering she was part of a technological military group for so long - a passing echidna suggests to her that she go inside and try out the hat she was absentmindedly staring at. She's startled, but allows herself to be led inside by the echidna and an attendant of the store.

I very much disagree that it's "so her" - I feel like Sarah-Connor-style badass tank tops and combat boots are more her aesthetic - but regardless, the echidna encourages her and then invites her out for lunch. Fun to contrast his polite and complimentary approach towards Vector's more misogynistic one, huh? Back in Haven, while Locke is out of the room, Knuckles' musings are interrupted by Archimedes poofing in and immediately noticing his lovesick state. Upon hearing that Locke was rather awkward in trying to explain the source of his feelings, Archimedes offers his own advice for Knuckles' problem which basically boils down to "you'll never know if you don't take the plunge." Knuckles, encouraged, stands up and has Archimedes poof them away, and a second later Locke walks back in, surprised to see the room empty. Back in the streets, Vector is still trying to "score" to prove himself to Espio and Mighty…

That is the most uncomfortably-drawn swan I've ever seen. Like… why in the world does she have boobs? She's a bird! Birds don't need boobs! Argh! Archimedes poofs Knuckles straight into a restaurant, apparently having homed directly in on Julie-Su, because there she is, out to lunch with Raynor the echidna who asked her out, and to Knuckles' shock, she's holding his hand… better make a move fast, man, cause this polite dude is gonna win her over first!

Friend in Need

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Manny Galan Colors: Barry Grossman

So I think this is actually the first KtE arc that has a secondary story at the end of each issue - previously, they've all had one story taking up the full span of the pages. This story follows Mighty, in which he is approached by Nicolette the Weasel, who prefers to go by Nic due to her full name "not sounding tough enough for a bounty hunter," and who is Nack's previously-unmentioned sister (and looks exactly like him but with eyelashes and a crop top, because girl). She gives Mighty a red collar, which in shock he realizes used to belong to Ray the Flying Squirrel, whom he used to know. He agrees to come with Nic on her latest treasure hunting venture, providing the brawn she needs in exchange for his chance to look for what happened to Ray. While they're flying to their destination, Mighty becomes lost in memories of how he met Ray, leading to one of the most jarring character revelations next to "Charmy is a prince" - all we've ever known about Mighty up till now is that he has super strength and likes hanging around on the Floating Island, but apparently, six or seven years ago he was captured by Robotnik's forces and taken to a goddamn slave labor camp, where he found himself on a prisoner transport cart along with Ray. Ray had a very bad stutter, most likely due to fear and trauma, but was still kind to those around him, and Mighty began to look after him even though he was shackled due to his strength. But unexpectedly, one of the other prisoners on board this cart was Sonic! Keep in mind, we're talking about a cart full of eight year old children that Robotnik was shipping off. Mighty was skeptical of Sonic's confident attitude, with Sonic claiming that he was there to break everyone out, and that Robotnik didn't suspect him since he was only a child and up until recently adults had been carrying on the fight. However, with recent losses, the Freedom Fighters formed by Sally in the Sonic Kids special started taking up arms against Robotnik as well.

Let that sink in, man. This is why the leading members of the resistance against Robotnik were children and young teens. All the adults were dead or roboticized. Anyone who could have fought was gone. These children had no one else to stand up for their freedom; circumstance forced them to step forward and take the lead instead. Remember what I was talking about a while back, about Sonic having trouble settling down after Robotnik's death and how he was so used to war as essentially a child soldier that even in peacetime he found himself unable to relax? This is the true horror of the war against Robotnik. King Acorn's abrupt disbanding of the Freedom Fighters several issues ago may have seemed dismissive and uncaring, but in the end, his point of view does make sense - he doesn't want literal children robbed of their chance to, well, be children. Just think of how many main characters, and hell, even side characters, thought for so long that they were orphans until their family members started turning up after the war. Think about how many are still orphans for all their know - where are Amadeus and Rosemary Prower? Where's Bunnie's parents? Antoine's mother? Amy's parents? That is what the war against Robotnik cost society. It's actually kind of chilling.

Anyway, Nic wakes Mighty up from his train of thought as they land at the site of the now-deserted labor camp. Mighty is a little jumpy, still reluctant to trust Nic fully, but suddenly an unexpected face makes her appearance…

Fiona? As in, the robot that Tails supposedly fell in love with right before his solo adventure? She's a real person? And Mighty somehow knows her? Oh boy, there's a lot to cover here…

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #kte 26 #writer: ken penders #pencils: chris allan #colors: frank gagliardo #pencils: manny galan #colors: barry grossman

[firesoulstuff]

Frozen in Time

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21972862

Sara can’t take much more of this.

Some paragons they are. How are they supposed to save the multiverse when there isn’t even one universe left to save?

They’ve been here at The Vanishing Point for a few days now, sort of, without the passage of time it’s really hard to tell, even more so than on The Waverider. So far they haven’t done much more than fight with each other – namely Lex - and sulk. It started off quick enough, with Kate punching him across the face. Barry and Kara managed to hold her back initially after that, but at some point Lex shot his mouth off in the wrong place at the wrong time and Kate straight up pushed him off the ledge of the base. Sara is telling herself Kate had seen the rather large piece of wreckage suspended right underneath and realized Lex wouldn’t have fallen more than a few feet. However he didn’t fall, because time doesn’t move here, so he became suspended in the atmosphere like every other piece of crap floating around. He got back eventually, but now that they know pushing him like that won’t hurt him he has become a bit of an emotional punching bag, especially for Kara.

That’s what Sara is walking away from right now, actually. For as smart as Lex supposedly is he still can’t seem to figure out when to stop talking, and Kara has just flung him out into orbit for a second time today.

If yesterday ever ended, that is, which technically it didn’t. Technically, here, no day ever ended.

Not even the worst one.

She has done everything in her power over past… almost four years, damn. It really has been awhile.

Anyway, she’s done whatever she can to keep herself from thinking about that day. Time had helped, but now there is no time. This moment is frozen, and aftermath of everything which happened within it has remained as fresh and constant, the way it will until somebody changes it.

It seems as though The Legion of Doom did a little sweeping and some other light housekeeping in the areas they were using. Thoughtful.

The deeper parts of The Vanishing Point, however, are still suspended in distress.

She can tell she’s getting closer to the heart of maze of rooms by the amount of damage still living. Lights are still flickering, practically begging to be either put out or changed. Sparks are still exploding from semi-live wires. Water is even still dripping from pipes.

She wonders how things like those never run out, even trapped eternally in the same moment. Maybe they reset, the same drop of water plopping against the ground over and over again.

By now she’s come to what is by far her least favorite area in the entire base: The Oculus Wellspring.

The last time she was here she tried to come in and pay respects… but she couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough. The cold feel of this room, the sight of all the rubble scattered about everywhere; it had made her want to collapse into a fit of tears.

Mick… He had been strong enough. He had walked right up the remainder of the ramp to what had once housed The Oculus and he stood before the biggest pile of crushed rubble and paid respects.

“Get him out of here!” Leonard’s words had rung in her head. Savage wasn’t coming for them any more, and there were no Time Master, but there was The Legion. So she’d pulled him away.

She told him it was what Snart would’ve wanted, and true he had ordered her that, but still… it had been more for her own benefit.

She still wants to collapse into a fit of tears, maybe more this time than last, but she owes it to him, she owes it to Mick, to pay some respects.

The Wellspring Chamber is in the worst shape of the entire Vanishing Point. Huge piles of rock and dust lay everywhere, none of it really quite settled, and all over the room carries a chill of death.

Walking into the chamber her white boots pick up black dust, and instantly she knows its ash. The nothingness remains of the Time Masters who had fought to their bitter end. The Time Masters and…

She exhales slowly.

She makes her way up the ramp, which is in surprisingly good shape with all things considered, and squats down just in front of the enormous pile of rock and molten metal at it’s platform.

“Hey Crook.” She says softly, her voice already thick and on the verge of cracking. “So um… I just wanted to let you know… We uh… We lost the world.”

She pauses to wipe a tear off her cheek, and then presses on.

“It wasn’t the mission against Savage. We won that, thanks to you. You know, I think you did so, so much more for history than every other Legend put together. The things we’ve seen happen…. None of it would’ve been possible with Oculus in play.”

She shutters and presses a hand to her mouth, sniffling as her voice finally gives in to the tears and their moisture fills her words.

“You saved everyone. And me… I lost them, Snart. I lost them. We all did. We couldn’t do it without you.”

And that, she realizes bitterly, is probably very true. Snart would’ve been suspicious of Lyla from the moment she went missing, if not from the moment she showed up in the first place. He would’ve handled Lex straight away, kept a close eye on him and stolen that damned book before he even laid his eyes on it; never mind his hands. He would’ve had a plan, or at the very least he would’ve been able to come up with a plan now.

With every thought, every “would have” that passes through her head she loses more and more control over her tears. She sobs violently and it’s only a matter of time before her balance falters and she shoots out a hand to catch herself on the pile of rubble. What she grasps is a loose rock, and it gives way under her sudden pressure so she grips further down the pile. Still sobbing she wipes at her eyes and blinks them open, and when she does her vision fixes on something in the rubble.

She can’t tell what it is at first. All her mind will process is a red blob. But she looks closer, forces her mind to see the object clearly, and when she realizes what it is she nearly chokes on her own tears.

A blood streaked hand.

A body; Leonard’s body.

That’s what she knows, logically, it is. Even if the assassin part of her brain is telling her blood shouldn’t even still be visible after nearly four years, never mind red, and the time traveling Captain part of her brain is saying time doesn’t move here, she won’t listen to those parts. After everything, after all she’s lost, she won’t hope for the impossible.

What she will do is get to her feet and dig away at the rubble. She uses the sudden rush of irrational, hopeful, adrenalin to aid her in toppling the biggest rock over the edge of the platform. She digs away at the rest, pushing and shoving bits of rock and seething through her teeth when she touches the metal bits and they are still white hot, but she shoves them away anyway. She is aware that as she goes she is exposing bits and pieces of torn cloth and cut up limbs, but it is only after she removes one final chunk of large stone that she gasps at the sight before her.

Leonard.

Battered, broken, bloody, Leonard.

She has to know. She thinks she does, as he has to be dead, even if his blood is still glistening bright. She reaches for his neck, her breath held tight in her chest, preparing to be met with nothing.

Thump, thump.

A pulse.

He’s alive.

It feels like all of the oxygen leaves her body in one punch, and until it returns all she can do is stare at Leonard.

Leonard. Alive. Under so much rubble that she hasn’t been able to move yet.

By now logic and strategy are starting to work their way back into her thought process. Even if she can remove all of the remaining rubble from him, moving the bigger pieces on her own will likely cause more harm than good. Then, even if it doesn’t do more harm, how much good will it really do? He won’t heal on his own, and she can’t do the impossible.

Fortunately, there is someone still alive who can.

“BARRY!”

She sprints down the halls of the base, shouting the name over and over again as she does. She runs all the way back to what used to be a garden, to where she last left most of the group arguing over the ethical vs. tactical advantages and disadvantages to killing Lex.

“BARRY!”

She catches sight of Barry, and everyone else for that matter, turning to look at her as she comes tearing down the path. She skids to a stop right in front of Barry; heaving her breath in and out all while trying to find the words to tell him that Leonard is alive.

“Sara?” He asks, hovering close to her.

“The Oculus chamber.” She pants. “Leonard. He’s alive.”

She sees Barry’s eyes turn wide, and the next thing she knows she feels his arms wrapped around her and wind racing through her hair. It’s only a fraction of a second later that they’re back in The Oculus chamber, Barry standing next to her and gaping dumbly at Leonard lying in a pulverized heap of rock and metal.

There’s another gust of wind and the others all appear, minus Lex of course. Barry turns to the group, and Sara notes that his face is serious and grave… but there is a touch of hope.

“Help us get him out of there.”

They manage, albeit, not easily. Kate handles the piping hot metal; turns out her gloves are prepared for events like that. Sara’s own hands are stilling glowing red with burns and so she allows Kara to cool them down whilst J’onn works on the heavier pieces of rubble. It’s really only one overly large piece left – right across Leonard’s chest - and soon as it’s removed they can actually hear Leonard exhale in relief. He doesn’t wake up, but still, it’s more confirmation that he’s alive.

Barry and J’onn drag him down the ramp, and following an instinct Sara gets to her knees and ushers for them to prop him against her.

“Ok,” Kate says, “I don’t know who this guy is, but he isn’t going to last much longer with these injuries.”

“He will here.” Barry says, “Time not moving is what’s kept him alive. It’s like he’s in a stasis, like all the lights and the water. He doesn’t get better, but he doesn’t get worse.”

“Ok.” Kara says, her hands settling onto her hips as she starts to think. “So when we defeat the Anti-Monitor-”

“If.” Kate chimes in.

“When.” Kara stresses, glaring. “When we defeat the Anti-Monitor and bring everybody back, we can bring The Waverider here and put him in the med-bay. In the meantime he’ll be fine, right?”

Sara hates to think what she is, she really does, but Leonard is here with his head in her lap and literally hanging on to his last breath. She won’t risk losing him again.

“We don’t know if that will be possible.” She says, giving voice to her terrible thoughts. “Even if we do defeat The Anti-Monitor, we can’t be sure it’ll bring back anything that we’ve lost.”

“Sara-”

“And even if it does.” She presses on, ignoring Kara and that pleading look in her eyes. “We can’t be sure it’ll be everything. We might only get back some of it, and even if we can get it all back I’m not sure even The Waverider could fix this.”

That’s a hard one to admit, but it’s true. As miraculous as The Waverider’s med bay can be, there are some things beyond even its capabilities. Ultimately she would’ve died from that bullet from trader Rip without Stein; in fact she did for a few minutes. Kendra would have died from that dagger shard had it not been for Ray, the med-bay had only allowed them to find it. And Carter… Stein… There had been no saving them.

She looks down at Leonard and how beat up he is. He’s bleeding from virtually everywhere, his left hand practically shredded down to the bone; and those bones are broken and visible. His clothes are torn and the skin beneath the holes is nothing but peeling blisters. His pulse – which Sara is keeping two fingers pressed to – is weak. Present, but weak. He’ll die the second he leaves The Vanishing Point, med-bay or no.

“Maybe I can.” Barry says, stepping forward.

Sara looks up at him with a thousand questions and protests in her mind, most of them likely written on her face as well. Barry, in turn, doesn’t look half as confident as he sounds but he squats next to her anyways, his eyes roaming every inch of Leonard’s body before they finally meet hers.

“When The Flash from Earth-90 gave himself to save us, he temporarily stole my speed so I wouldn’t be able to follow him.”

He takes a moment, looking to Leonard and then back at her, desperate.

“You know how this place works. What if I could give Snart some of my speed? My speed healing would kick in, right?”

She tries her best to think through the logistics of that, and her heart actually swells as she realizes she knows the answer.

Yes.

It’s an outside force. Like changing a light bulb, or Kara cooling down her hands.

She nods quickly, “Yes.”

With a relieved smile Barry places his hand on Leonard’s chest and so Sara braces her own hands against his shoulders. Barry starts vibrating his arm and within seconds Leonard is convulsing under her grip. First it’s small, but then bigger, and she would be worried except his blisters are fading to a normal pale color and sticky blood is flowing slower. Eventually Barry staggers back, almost landing on his ass were it not for Kara catching him under his arms. Leonard continues to seize minutely against her, and when that stops she moves her fingers to check is pulse again and receives a tiny shock for her efforts.

“It’ll take time.” Barry says as Kara helps him stand up. “Even with speed healing, I was in a coma for months after getting struck by lightning.”

It’s Kate who folds her arms, unconvinced. “I thought time didn’t move here?”

Sara wants to answer, to explain, but surprisingly, it’s Ryan who beats her to it.

“Yet, we’re still counting days.”

*

*

*

“There are no strings on me.”

He barely has time to finish the sentence before his hand is engulfed with a searing white pain. Every instinct he has in his body is screaming for him to get away but he can’t. Literally, he can’t. On reflex he tries to uncurl his fingers but they won’t go… and then there’s nothing.

For a while he feels for only a handful of seconds at a time, few and far between, each time like he is starting to wake from a very deep sleep that he quickly succumbs back to. Finally, however, it starts to feel different. Like dawn is coming and he still isn’t ready to wake up. So he goes back into the darkness, the faint calls of something somewhere nearby hitting his ears. When he wakes up again it’s soon, almost as if he hasn’t fallen back asleep for more than a minute, and suddenly it feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. Wow, he hadn’t realized how hard it had been to breathe. He can’t quite seem to wake himself up yet but he’s content with that. For the first time everything feels semi-comfortable. He can breathe and there is something warm underneath his head. He wants to open his eyes and see what it is but he can’t. He hears the faint sound of voices around him, some almost sound familiar, and The Oculus starts to come back to him. The pain, the darkness, and now what? Is this death? Are these his final moments of broken lucidity? His mind bestowing him with imaginary feelings of air half in his likely collapsed lungs and delusional voices at the edges of his ears?

There is a rush of a shock through his system. It feels like he’s being electrocuted, and suddenly he can’t feel or hear anything other than it, and when it’s over the darkness closes back around him.

Yeah, he thinks before he succumbs to it, this is death.

Yet, some long time later, the darkness lifts again.

This time, he is very aware of the pain. There’s a lot of it, and it’s everywhere, but as he grunt and grimaces against it he comes to a crucial realization.

He can move.

He opens his eyes first, and finds that he is looking at nothing other than the featureless blob of grey that is the ceiling of chambers in The Vanishing Point.

Peachy.

He tries to sit up and a shot of fiery pain through his side sends him right back down. Nope, not doing that.

Ok, so he can’t sit, and after that he isn’t sure he wants to try rolling over.

He can at least pick up his head and, with some bearable pain, prop himself up on his elbows to look around.

The first thing he notices is his elbows dip a bit into the firm material of a half-decent mattress. So he’s on a bed, meaning someone moved him from The Oculus chamber.

The walls around him are all stone and grey, and not to mention mostly in tact. There’s a light attached to the ceiling and covered by a lampshade, and a bookshelf up against the wall right next to a chrome door, but otherwise the room is bare.

That’s when the door slides open.

It’s Sara who steps into the doorway, though not all the way through it. She freezes the moment she sees him staring at her, and he can’t say he doesn’t do the same.

She looks different.

She’s wearing… He’ll say a version of her White Canary suite. One that’s cleaner and sleeker, and not to mention includes a much more gratuitous neckline. Her hair is different too. A little shorter and not quite as wavy as he remembers.

“You’re awake.” She finally stutters.

“It appears I am.” He says with a slow nod, “How long have I been out?”

Panic flashes through her eyes as she hurries in and sits on the very edge of the mattress, her eyes avoiding his when she does.

“Um… It’s a little complicated. It’s been close to a week since we found you. But uh, it’s been four years since The Oculus.”

He’s sure the surprise must be on his face.

Four years.

He’d assumed it’d been a long time; it feels like it. Before she walked in he might have guessed weeks, maybe a couple months. After she arrived he would’ve bet a year or two.

Four years.

“Ok… So where are we now?”

It’s the most practical question he can think of, and he isn’t sure if he can handle hearing even one thing that’s changed in all this time right now.

“At The Vanishing Point.” She answers, “Blowing up The Oculus worked, right now we’re just squatting in the Time Master’s old barracks, until we can come up with a plan.”

He should ask what kind of plan, or against who, or what, but instead…

“Why here?”

She sighs, her eyes closed in a way that forewarns pain coming when she opens them.

“Because here is the only place that’s left.”

She catches him up on everything, then. First on The Crisis, and on how literally every single being to ever exist in any universe is now gone except for seven supposed “paragons” and him, and then on anything else she feels he should know.

She tells him about Savage, about Stein, about Rip, about Jax and a wife and daughter he has in the future whom she couldn’t wait to meet before all this. She tells him about the new Legends, about how well Mick had been doing before he got tidal waved out of existence with the rest of the multi-verse, and then finally, she tells him about Ava.

“We’re hoping we can bring everyone back.” She says, and there is a touch of guilt to her words.

“Good.” He nods, hoping he doesn’t sound nearly as disappointed as he feels. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot worth fighting for.”

The smile she gives him is grateful, and he tries to return it. It does hurt to hear she’s moved on from him, almost as much as the physical pain that he’s in, but even so he is glad she was able to find happiness in his absence.

“We all do.” She says, “And, if you’re up for it, we could use your help.”

He nods.

“You might have to find some crutches lying around this place, but I will gladly take down another immortal bastard.”

He punctuates his words with a smirk, one that she returns.

“It’s late right now.” She tells him, and he obeys her before she even says it and eases himself back down. “Get some rest.”

He nods, though truthfully he doubts he’ll be resting much any time soon.

She probably knows that, but she smiles at him all the same and bends over to plant a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Good to have you back Len.”

#Crisis on Infinite Earths #crisis spoilers #sara lance #leonard snart #fanfic #I need him back

[villain-imagines]

NSFW Alphabet --Eowells Eobard Thawne

Another looooooong one. Mostly because I just find the differences interesting.

A lot of similarities, but some key differences compared with Mattobard’s Eo, along with a bit of differentiation between this

and this

NSFW under the cut

A=Aftercare - What they do/act like after sex.

In the guise of Dr. Wells, he lets his tenderness show through more than he might otherwise.

He tells himself it’s part of the act, but really it isn’t. That’s just the way he reasons with himself and excuses the smile of fondness that finds his way across his lips. He tries to not notice how easily he melts against your touch when you lay beside each other and you wrap an arm around him. He kisses you softly and holds keeps you close as he silently memorizes every freckle and subtle feature and traces across your skin with his fingertips

After his cover is blown, he takes a few step back from the easy intimacy you two held prior. Not because the feelings were not real, but he does it in an attempt to distance himself from the man he had pretended to be for nearly fifteen years. Even as he does try to distance himself, seeing your clear disappointment elicits painful tug in his chest and affects him more than he’d like to admit.

The line between who he is as Eobard Thawne and as Harrison Wells is blurred at best. His actions may appear uncaring and callous, but they’re really masking a thinly veiled desire to reclaim his already unsure sense of self as Eobard Thawne. However, this tends to slip away in a post-sex afterglow and his inhibitions are lowered enough that he shows a similar tenderness as he did as Harrison Wells. Of all the lies he had to tell, what developed between the two of you was not one of them.

B=Bondage - Are they into BDSM, and how far they’ll go if they have a green light.

Big yes. Mostly similar to other versions of him, but Eowells in particular thrives on control even more so than other versions. (If that’s even possible)As carefully as he’s played his cards in the 15 years he’s been stuck in the past, he’s all too aware of how fragile his control over the events around him is.

Years of uncertainty about his future and all of the possible consequences of his interventions in the timeline that were completely out of his control made him recognize the value he placed on the things within his power.

This transfers into the sexual in both subtle actions to almost over-the-top obvious symbolism. In a way, this is where he can take a break from playing relativelynice as Dr. Wells.  He’s more inclined to be disciplinary than other versions of himself.

Prefers Master, Sir, and Daddy, and of course, Eobard/Eo after you find out his identity because hearing his own name after all those years at all is enough to get him horny, lets be real.

C=Cum –

Inside, anywhere. Especially down your throat. He loves to keep his hand on the back of your head, threaded through your hair, ordering you to look at him as you swallow.

D=Dom - Are they dominant, submissive, a switch?

Very dominant. Even more so than other versions of himself. Somehow.

Like other versions, he could occasionally like a switch-up, but it would have to be in very specific circumstances. He’s had more practice in patience by this time than he would have preferred, but to him, the line between sexy, endearing, or fun, and tediously irritating him is very slim. This stemmed partially from his past of playing Harrison Wells when he relied on networking and fundraising events for the particle accelerator. Too many beautiful people trying to make passes at the famous scientist through botched attempts at seduction. (Some so painfully forward that he nearly laughed at the audacity) He found it almost amusing at first, but it quickly became just irritating.

With an established relationship, he might humor you and enjoy you playing taking charge for a time. However, youwon’t be expecting any switch-ups as far as dominance to last too long.

E=Edgeplay - Similar to ‘Kinks’ except it’s a lot riskier than usual kinks (knifeplay, breathplay, etc.).

He’s very cautious but kinky.

Manipulative with more of a sadistic streak. Less tolerance for disobedience, more of a sadistic streak. (less pain, more seeing how much discomfort you would put up with for him) He’s more likely to meld well with someone with slight masochistic tendencies, but he isn’t going to push far enough to cause significant harm. And he veryeagerly rewards you for it.  He particularly levels up his aftercare in these contexts.

Like other versions of him, if you ask him to choke you, he’ll oblige with a frankly unsettling eagerness, but will never have you doubting for your own safety. He likes seeing you squirm and beg for him, but he’d never hurt his precious kitten.

F=Fantasy - A fantasy of theirs (ex: a teacher/student fantasy).

Absolutely has a Professor kink and student/teacher fantasy

Has definitely imagined handcuffing you to his wheelchair, bending you over, and fucking you while he whispers to you all of the filthy things he wanted to say and do with you as Dr. Wells, but couldn’t because of the role he had to play.

He’s always wanted to see how you’d look in a collar. Not even purely for the sexual. Sometimes when he sips a scotch on the couch at the end of the day, he imagines you cozy and comfortable in his presence, curled up with your head in his lap, your lead in his hand.

He loves the idea of something tangible that ties you to him as much as he feels his emotions have tied him to you. He wants the affirmation that you’re his, and that you want to be with him.

G=Got Caught - How they react when they get caught having sex.

Not too keen on being caught before his secret is blown, but it’s very unlikely with his speed.

H=Hot Spots - A place that drives them crazy when stimulated

He’ll melt under any kiss to his neck or collarbone. The softer it is, the more likely you might get an involuntary shiver from him. Running your hands through his hair and tracing your fingertips across the back of his neck will elicit a similar effect.

I=Intimacy - How romantic they are, or can be, before, during, or after sex.

He has layers.

Deep down, Eobard is a romantic at heart, trying to pretend to be more of an ass than he is when he cares about someone. As Eowells, he prefers, quiet, subtle romance tactics. He’s very observant about your favorite things, so much so that it often surprises you how he knew (even if he won’t mention just how he knew)

Very capable of wooing you when he puts his mind to it, and can be a thoughtful romantic.

J=Journey - Their ideal way of leading up to sex

Under it all, he still has a flare and appreciation for the dramatic. He loves careful, drawn-out teasing. He’s very purposeful when it comes to seduction, and when he’s wanting to draw the process out, he’ll only touch you once you’re quite nearly, or literally, begging him to.

K=Kinks –

Previously mentioned kinks, included, like restraints, light choking, pretty much most power dynamics,

Again, call him Daddy, Professor, Master, Sir, take your pick because either way you’re going to be sore later.

Has a discipline kink, but may not express it.

Bit of a worship kink, likely stemming from a bit of a god complex

Restraints in any way (handcuffs, ropes, some gags, collars, chains, this boy is kink)

Absolutely has a teacher kink

L=Location -  Where they like to have sex at, do they like risky locations, etc.

Preferably quitter places, but also anywhere.

He’s into fucking in a lot of questionable locations, with the possibility of being caught. (but without the real possibility, given his speed.)

M=Masturbation - How they are when they get themselves off, what they get themselves off to.

Reluctant, but nearly out of necessity, if he for whatever reason can’t tune out his sexual drive.

Fantasizes you in various scenarios, maybe watches. He’ll become so engulfed in his fantasy that he barely registers his hand wrapping around his shaft. It doesn’t help that his mind drifts to you more often than he’d like. Especially on the nights team Flash takes off and all he has left to do is wait until Barry gets faster, and he’s done all of his strategic planning already.

After he’s discovered, he can zoom over to you with little issue, but I wouldn’t put it past him to turn a mysterious call to your phone late at night into him making you equally conflicted about knowing who he was and how low and seductive his voice sounded through the phone now as Eobard Thawne.

N=NO - A few things that they will absolutely, under no circumstances, ever do.

Not into anything involving urethral play or any other cock bondage devices

Not into super hardcore humiliation for himself or his s/o (with the exception of the Flash)

O=On’s - Their top turn on’s that they have (things that’ll get them super horny super quickly).

Seeing you wearing anything he’s given you, clothes, jewelry, hissweater, even occasionally the STAR laboratories attire left around for emergency. That was histoo, after all.

Teasing or pushing his boundaries while out and about (cheeky comments, verbal jabs, witty remarks in general)

Begging—literally you can extort the hell out of this and he even knows it. He gets a sort of high from listening to you beg, but on the flip side of this, if you beg for something he gets just as much satisfaction out of giving it to you as hearing it. He’d give you anything, literally anything.

Subtle habits you have that he picks up on when you’re completely oblivious to his watchful gaze. (running hands through your hair, biting your lips, smiling softly at something you read, ect.) Usually, not overtly sexual in nature, but once you notice and meet his eye, something switches in him and he feels the sudden need to pull you close into a heated kiss.

Ego, complement him and he’ll be horny without a doubt.

P=Position -  Their favorite position to have sex in.

He loves having you bent over something, or on all-fours as he takes you from behind. He loves the power it gives him and how easy it is to yank your head back by the hair and drape his body over yours, whispering filthy words into the skin of your neck. Also, it wasn’t something he could have done while pretending he was in a wheelchair

However, he equally loves being face to face, pinned to the mattress beneath him, making you meet his eyes as you writhe, begging and breathless in pleasure. He loves the closeness and intimacy it allows, while also allowing for the versatility to be as rough or gentle as he chooses. He loves watching his partner’s face intently

                                                                                                       Q=Quickie - Do they like it, do they prefer quickies over actual sex, etc.

He is obviously very good at quickies, but he likes to really take his time with you if time and situation allows for it.

Yet, he seems to always be ready to fuck in the more time sensitive scenarios. He’s equally content zooming you behind the nearest corner and fucking you hard against the wall, his hand over your mouth to stifle your moans as he whispers sweet filth into your ear.

He gently reminds you that ‘you wouldn’t want to be overheard now, would you?

And he whispers praise of how ‘you’re being so good for him,’ as you try to stay quiet, pulling your legs wrapped around him to pull him closer.

R=Rough - How rough they are, or get, when in bed.

He generally loves being rough, but he can have his moments of both. He’ll certainly cater to whatever your preference generally is, but as a baseline of measurement, his gentle may still be a bit rougher than what would count as normal.

He wouldn’t be rougher without your consent, but with that he’d love to do whatever kink that would fulfil something for you, especially if it puts him in a position of control.

He’ll spank you, pull your hair, scratch, leave marks, bite, press you into the mattress beneath him, wrap his hand around your throat, and generally play rough, but he’s very observant to your reactions and controlled with anything that might be more dangerous.

S=Stamina - How long they can go before they tap out.

Too long.

Even when he’s pent-up and comes too quickly, he hardly has a long enough refractory period for you to even fully register him being hard again. He’s up for as many rounds as you are.

T=Toys - Do use toys, do they own them, what kind, etc.

Not super necessary, considering he’s practically a human vibrator.

U=Unfair - How much they tease you, how they tease you, etc.

Asshole supreme. Don’t expect sex without at least some begging first. He’s patient, and loves soaking in whatever desperation he can elicit. He wants you to want him as badly as he does you.

V=Volume - How loud they get when having sex, things they might say, etc.

Quiet grunts, moans into your ears and skin, just soft enough to hear, filthy whispers about whatever you two are doing/ what he’d like to do. He’s eager to share a little glimpse into his filthy mind. Sometimes he comes with a louder moan, but more often if you two had a long night of foreplay.

W=Wild Card - a random letter for the character of your choice.

Conflicted--- When he stole Harrison Well’s body, he also absorbed his thoughts, memories, and the lingering echo of the original Well’s emotions. Eobard has always had a strong sense of self, and his original personality remained dominant for the most part. Yet, in moments he can feel an added pull of sentiment and internal conflict that he was sure stemmed from what was left of the other man. The emotion he absorbed from Wells never fully interfered with his plans, but it did influence the relationships he’s built with his team at STAR labs, and with you.

As big as his ego is, deep down, it’s a relief to him when you lean closer into his touch. He holds you close and absorbs every bit of affection you offer to him. As Eowells, he’s marginally less needy than other versions of himself, but he feels affection towards you with even more intensity, and is very protective. He genuinely wants you to succeed in whatever your drives or passions are, but he has the less savory tendency to make relationship and friendship calls foryou from a distance. This could range from subtle sabotage to quietly removingpeople who may mean you harm, or people flirting or attempting to date you.

X=X-Ray - How they look with their clothes off.

Definitely larger than average and well endowed. Not as large his original body’s, but thicker. Neatly groomed with a dusking hair on his chest and a lightly trimmed happy trail of darker hair.

Y=Yearning - How often they need to have sex.

He generally isn’t someone who feels sexual urges too often without a focus of interest. And he can usually shut out any sexual urges if he needs to accomplish a task.

But also his patterns of urges tend to change if he has a focal point of interest. Ordinarily, he didn’t waste much time with it, but with having you so close, quite often.

Z=ZZZ –

He’s not a quick sleeper, and even when he does, he requires fewer hours of it. So, expect him to silently plot and stroke your hair as he keeps you pressed against him. He’ll either curl around you, or have you curled against him, with your head on his chest and your arm around his middle.

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