#even if it’s for a mean girl’s reference you’re still on thin ice bud | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dorizardthewizard · 4 years

Text

The Revival of Akillian: Chapter 3

Prologue / Chapter 2 / Chapter 4

3. BAD ENCOUNTERS

Taking advantage of a brief return of the sun, D'jok, Thran and Micro-Ice decide to go play football on some flat ground that they have built on the edge of the city. They swept away the snow, drew lines on the shriveled grass with white paint, and constructed goal posts using tubes and poles salvaged from the ruins of the ancient capital. Ahito, Thran's brother, promised that he would join them after his little nap.

Along the way, D'jok kicks the ball that Thran brought, "improved" by himself, because Thran - a little taller than Micro-Ice, short brown hair, flat nose, black almond eyes on a round face - is very handy and fascinated by technology. When watching a Galactik Football match, the technical layout of the pitch interests him almost as much as the game on it. The ball bounces softly off D'jok's foot.

- I've made some improvements again, - Thran explains. - Now it calculates the speed of the ball, just like official Cup balls.

D’jok catches the ball and weighs it in his hands.

- Isn't it a bit heavy?

- It's because of the device inside. I'll have to find a way to alleviate it...

D'jok does a few tests again, head / foot, head / foot. That damn ball would almost give him a headache. Sitting in the grass at the edge of the stairs, Micro-Ice looks at him morosely. He stands up suddenly, and without a word, walks away up the stairs.

- What's wrong with him? - asks Thran.

- In trouble... as usual. - answers D’jok.

- Do you think we can help him?

- Not really.

- Yeah... the usual, then.

Not far away, sitting on another staircase in the middle of a tumble of rocks, Sinedd and his gang play GF-Cards, a game very popular with the fans of Galactik Football, which consists of pitting different players against each other by calculating their odds, strengths, shooting power, defensive or dribbling skills, etc. The cards themselves are the subject of collections and a successful trading market. Sinedd throws down his major asset: Warren.

- And ten! Oh, I won again! Guess I’m just too good.

Dark hair, purple eyes, thick eyebrows, a pointed nose in the middle of a thin triangular face with a determined chin, elegantly dressed (white pants with black legs, a leather jacket with padded shoulders and a high collar), Sinedd is handsome and he knows it. Many girls flock around him, which fills him with pride - worse: arrogance. He believes himself superior to everyone, and easily proves it in many areas: flirting, football... and GF-Cards. His disdainful haughtiness annoys more than one but fascinates others, like the three henchmen who constitute his gang, all devoted to their "leader".

- It's not fair, - nevertheless protests Billy, a tall, skinny blond. – You’ve won four times in a row!

- Sorry bud, it’s not my fault you suck.

With a triumphant smile, he slowly picks up the cards Billy lost.

In the meantime come Thran, D’jok and Micro-Ice - the latter stopping his friends with his outstretched arm.

- D’jok, do you see what I see?

What he sees are Sinedd's shoes, sticking out of the wide, white trouser-legged pants. Techno-Sizor 128... of course he wears the brand, the best of the best for champions like him.

Micro-Ice walks up to him with a smirk.

- Nice pumps! They must leave beautiful footprints...

Sinedd scrutinizes him, frowning.

- I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.

- Listen here, Sinedd! – Micro-Ice gets angry. - I know you stole the tickets from me!

- What tickets?

- Don't act all innocent! You came to my house and searched my room!

- Oh! - Sinedd smiles, winking at his friends. - If I understand correctly, was something stolen from you? How touching, Micro-Ice. Tell me when to cry!

- Hey, guys! He doesn't just have super kicks... he also has a beautiful brand-new Magnet-Board! - exclaims D'jok while standing on a rock, brandishing the machine in question: an ideal board for surfing on all terrains.

Billy and the others huddle together, ready to leap onto the rock - Sinedd stays where he is: he cherishes his Magnet-Board too much, and this nutcase D'jok might break it before his friends manage to reach it.

- Give it back to me now, you hear!

- Not until you've returned Micro-Ice’s tickets.

- You really can’t do anything without D'jok, eh! – sneers Sinedd at Micro-Ice between clenched teeth.

- That’s what friends are for, right?

The two glare defiantly at each other - Sinedd also faces Thran, rather unpleasantly. With four on three he would stand a chance of coming out on top in a fight, but D’jok still wields his Magnet-Board and Sinedd is as worried about losing it as he is of taking a bad hit. He gets another idea.

He winks again at his defensive gang, takes a step back and takes on an air of resignation.

- Okay, okay... fine, you win. I'll bring you the tickets tomorrow morning without fail in front of the Great Rift. (He turns to D'jok and points an accusatory finger at him.) And if there's a single scratch on my Board, I'll take care of you, D'jok!

- Whatever you say, Sinedd, - smiles the latter, the Magnet-Board under his arm.

Sinedd waves to his gang and goes down the stairs, grumbling:

- I'll get you, you bastard.

However, he has to admit that D’jok is stronger than him. Sinedd can round up all his friends tomorrow morning in front of the Great Rift, but D'jok and Micro-Ice may do the same. Sinedd doesn't really like to fight, it's not one of the areas where he is strongest. He prefers to take up his challenges with the ball, cards in hand, or even chatting in front of a hot chick. This meeting was not a very good idea, after all. He should just let Ballow and his goons take care of those brats... yeah, that's a lot better.

***

After having left the Magnet-Board at Thran’s place (safer than with Micro-Ice or D'jok, the cave of Maia being very famous) and waking up his brother Ahito, deeply asleep as usual, the four companions go to the Cafeteria, their favorite bar, to watch the Lightnings vs. Shadows game. They could watch it at either of their houses, but the Cafeteria has comfortable sofas, there is food and drink, and above all a giant screen that allows them to immerse themselves more in the game.

As soon as they make themselves comfortable on a sofa facing the screen, Ahito falls asleep. (Ahito looks a lot like his brother, he just has longer hair and, though we do not know why, ski goggles perpetually raised on his forehead.) Yet Thran woke him up a few minutes ago…

- He falls asleep so quickly, I’ll never understand it! - D'jok remarks.

- Yeah, - Thran added, - I've seen him fall asleep at the table, while still chewing, with his head on his plate.

- Too bad, he’ll miss everything...

Micro-Ice refers to the screen on which the Technoid logo appears, against a background of thunderous music.

- Well, you see, I’m not so sure about that. - smiles Thran.

Comments on Ahito's ailment - we can call it that, given the impressive number of hours he spends sleeping - cease, as the match begins.

It starts very strongly: the Shadows and Lightnings are roughly evenly matched, the Smog of the former rivals the power of the Charge of the latter, and each team has its star players: Fulmugus, with his magical dribbling, and Niilis are the gifted among the Shadows; the beautiful Sarlight and especially the great Warren for the Lightnings. The action is super-fast, to the point that it is difficult to follow the ball, which crosses the field like a bombshell, takes off in the air like a rocket, bounces against the magnetic grids surrounding the stadium at the speed of a pinball. It’s always followed or controlled by someone who dribbles, passes, shoots, headers, stops the ball in a bewildering somersault ten meters above the ground. The rival, with an acrobatic kickback, faces his opponent in a breath-taking aerial duel, in a fireworks display of black emanations of Smog and bluish flashes of Charge.

“Of course, it's a friendly match,” clarifies the commentator. “Of course, there are no stakes. Of course, no one has an interest in getting hurt! However, each team really has the will to prove to the other that it is already in full possession of its means, as the qualifying phases of the next Galactik Football Cup approach!”

- Hey, look! Warren has the ball! - cries Thran excitedly.

- Yeah, Warren! Go! Shoot! - shouts Micro-Ice.

Warren is of course everyone's idol. Next to his muscular two metres in height, Aarch would almost pass for a weakling. In his combination of shades of blue, his face also blue surrounded by a white beard, he imposes in front of the slender Fulmugus, all dressed in black, his long brown hair flying around him. However, both compete in virtuosity, Smog and Charge mixing in black and pale blue flashes. It's rare that one manages to stand out from the other, and the whole match revolves around the duel between these two titans of the GF. On-the-fly ball control, shots and counter-shots, dribbles, tackles and passes and returns - both invariably go neck and neck. But Warren's size and long strides give him a slight advantage, even though the Shadows' Smog allows them to “teleport” instantly. Taking advantage of a tiny error by Fulmugus, Warren manages to regain the ball and immediately rushes towards the opposing goal, followed by his two attackers and the Shadow defence. Warren dribbles past the two defenders, passes to Sarlight who remained slightly behind, which disorients the rear Shadows for a fraction of a second, enough for Sarlight to immediately pass back to Warren who shoots - without even aiming, it seems. The ball shoots overhead and sinks into the net, grazing the top bar - despite his lightning reflexes, the Shadow goalkeeper misses the ball by a hair. 1-0 for the Lightnings.

The whole stadium jumps up as one in a tremendous ovation. It's delirium also in the Cafeteria, where all the customers support Warren and the Lightnings against the dark Shadows. Thran, D'jok and Micro-Ice scream and jump on the couch, waking Ahito who also yells:

- Yeah! Go, Warren!

Whereupon he closes his eyes and begins to snore again.

- Did you see that shot? - rejoiced D'jok. - Right in the corner! He really is too good!

- Yeah, - Micro-Ice nods. - He's not human, that's all. Nobody comes close to him. No one!

- By my calculations, the ball hit the net at nearly 200 per hour, - says Thran, looking at a device he made. – Of course, it's an As-1000, the best of the best!

In the meantime, Gail, Micro-Ice's mother, arrives. Employed as a waitress in the Cafeteria, she is very dapper in her orange and red uniform, pushing an anti-gravity tray loaded with drinks and food.

- The SuperForms and the pizzas go to these gentlemen. - she says, putting the tray on the table.

- Whoa, awesome! Thank you, ma'am! – says Thran, licking his lips.

The enticing scent wakes Ahito, who echoes:

- Thank you, ma'am!

- Not me, thank the boss! Besides, I wonder why he likes you so much…

- Our charm, no doubt! - suggests Micro-Ice with a wink.

That makes everyone laugh, because the boss-cook of the Cafeteria is a Cyclops, as sensitive to the charm of Humans as they are to that of a toad.

- In any case, - resumed Gail, - I’m counting on you to behave. This job is not much, but I care about it!

- Don't worry mom, we'll be quiet, - promises Micro-Ice to his mother, who returns to the counter.

- You know us! - adds D'jok. She turns around and looks at them apprehensively.

- Well yes, precisely...

As the boys munch on their pizza - their eyes riveted on the screen where the match resumes - upstairs, near the large glass roof behind which a waterfall flows, Aarch and Clamp are also following the match, but only partly. Clamp had met up with Aarch to show him a gadget of his invention. He takes out of his pocket a sort of flattened sphere made of composite materials, fitted with a holographic projector at its top.

- It's a machine that allows you to study the head game. Look.

He turns on the device. A figure appears in the tiny holo field, using its head to bounce a sphere representing a ball. Normal at first, the movement quickly becomes jerky, then accelerates until it becomes a blurry haze of pixels. The appliance whistles and smells of hot circuits. Clamp turns it off when it starts to smoke.

- Yeah, well, ok... there may be two or three more settings to fine-tune, but overall, it works!

Aarch isn’t really paying attention to his friend's rough invention. With his elbows on his knees, he holds his head in his hands, sighing.

- And if I don’t belong here, after all? - he mumbles, discouraged. - It's been so long…

- You're not going to give up everything because of those cranky grumblers?

- Ah, I don't know... - Aarch sighs again.

- What about my machines? – worries Clamp.

- All you have to do is sell them to Technoid.

- Never! During all the years that I worked for them, they were never interested in my inventions!

- Adium is right, I suppose. - Aarch continues. - Akillian's Breath is completely gone.

- The two of us will bring it back! - promises Clamp with a hungry expression.

Aarch stands up and addresses his friend.

- We can't do anything at all, Clamp. We need players, and the ones I saw weren't really, how shall I put it...

While he searches for the words, the elevator of the Cafeteria, located not far from their table, opens on the fat Ballow, his two bodyguards and a third thief, bald and threatening. The four of them head straight for Aarch and Clamp.

- Are you Aarch? - demands Ballow.

- I guess so…

The mobster signals to his goons, who advance on Aarch and Clamp, brandishing tasers - these terrible electric batons which paralyze with every blow, and can even kill someone with a fragile heart.

From the top of the gallery-counter where he went to get new SuperForms, Micro-Ice sees them and turns pale.

- Hey! But what the...? - Clamp asks, straightening up.

The bald man swings his baton, which grazes him and shatters his glasses with sizzling lightning.

- Surely we can talk about this… - begins Aarch. In turn, he narrowly avoids another taser. - Okay, I guess that means no!

- Come on! - shouts Ballow. - Let’s get this over with!

Aarch jumps up and shoves the bald guy, but one of his henchmen hits him with a nasty taser in the kidneys. Aarch doubles over, paralyzed by the pain.

- Aarch! - Clamp rushes in but receives a punch to the stomach and collapses, knocking over the table.

The three goons are about to settle their score when D'jok appears at the foot of the stairs, Thran's ball under his arm.

- Excuse me, gentlemen, please! - he calls out to them. - Could you fight more quietly? That would be nice... you're preventing us from following the match!

In response, Ballow grabs the baton of one of his men and attempts to strike a blow at D’jok, who dodges easily.

- What do you think of this, kid? Is this quiet enough for you?

D'jok drops the ball, wedges it under his foot. Micro-Ice, who is observing him from the top of the gallery, guesses from his tense body what he’s about to do.

- D'jok, no! Don’t do it!

D'jok's foot shoots, the ball flies, hits the skull of the big bald man, who collapses. Its bounce brings it back to D'jok's legs, who wedges it back under his foot.

- Don't get involved in this, kid, if you know what’s good for you! - threatens Ballow, brandishing the taser.

In response, D'jok shoots again - the ball sinks into the stomach of the youngest henchman, who lets go of his baton and doubles over, wincing in pain. This time the ball is intercepted by Thran, who came down to lend a hand to his friend.

- Oops! Sorry, I was cleaning my ball and it just went off on its own. - D'jok quipped.

- Hey, did you see that D'jok? It works! 100 km/h! - Thran pointed to the dial integrated into the ball.

- And I was going easy on them! (D’jok Looks up at the gallery.) Micro-Ice, are you in? Micro-Ice!

Micro-Ice tries to hide behind the railing, but, unfortunately for him, it’s made of glass.

- Well! Micro-Ice! - sneers Ballow. - So, have you found my tickets?

- Uh, well, I'll have them tomorrow, sir! - Micro-Ice stammers.

- Don't worry about lying, kid, Sinedd gave them back to me. He also informed me that we would find you here... (Ballow again gestures to his men, who get up.) Come on! Get rid of these nuisances!

The sinister ones light their tasers again, moving towards D'jok and Thran.

- Ready? - calls D'jok.

- Ready! – answers Thran.

- Ready! - repeats Micro-Ice, running down the stairs.

Thran kicks off, passing to D’jok, who shoots, hitting the big bald man in the temple again. The ball bounces against the canopy and comes back to Micro-Ice's feet who shoots in turn, missing the youngster by a hair. The ball is caught by Aarch, who was recovering on the couch, then throws it up and hits Ballow. It bounces against a wall, is caught by Thran who shoots in a splendid turn - unfortunately in the wrong direction. The ball flies over the gallery, straight towards the counter and the shelves of glasses and bottles stowed behind – there are cries of fear from the audience – but is stopped at the last minute by Ahito, who has emerged from the sofa where he was sleeping the previous second. Ahito passes back to D'jok, who in turn performs a powerful return shot. The ball curls the heads of Ballow and his henchmen, bounces again against the canopy and knocks all four of them in a row, sweeping them away like bowling pins. The ball wisely ends its course under D'jok's foot.

Ballow is the first to stand up. His three henchmen hold their heads, grimacing. They struggle to stand up.

- We’ll meet again! - Ballow shouts as he scurries past D'jok.

- With pleasure.

The four thugs rush into the elevator, to the cheers of the customers, who applaud this beautiful football battle and its happy outcome.

Micro-Ice reaches out to Aarch and helps him up.

- I owe you one, kids! – smiles Aarch, still in shock, as much from this sporting feat as from the taser.

- No good, sir, - D'jok retorts. - It's just that we don't like to be disturbed during a game.

- You are gifted... how would you like to be part of a club?

- You're funny! - Micro-Ice answers. - Football on Akillian is dead. Without the Breath, we’re no match against the big guys!

He nods towards the screen where Warren and Fulmugus are still grappling, in an explosion of Smog and Charge.

- Well, aside from all that, - resumes D’jok, - we have a game to finish watching.

- Yes, yes, of course... I understand. Go for it. And may the best win!

- It will be Warren, sir! - says Thran.

They all go upstairs to get back together in front of the screen and their cold pizzas. Left alone, Aarch and Clamp exchange a look of connivance... maybe, Breath or no Breath, there are not only dummies left on Akillian.

***

It’s just half-time, when Gail takes the opportunity to stand in front of the screen and scold the four boys:

- I thought I told you not to cause any trouble!

- It's not our fault, ma'am, D’jok was justified. You saw!

- It's never your fault! Just like last time…

- Gail, we're thirsty! – came a call from the bar.

She sighs and returns to her counter. The shouting match is postponed...

Thran gazes proudly at Ahito, who for once has his eyes open, dreamily watching the advertisements parading onto the screen.

- Hey, brother, that was a nice save you made earlier. You see, you can do it if you want to!

- Do you think Aarch noticed that? It feels weird to see him for real, doesn't it?

- Aarch?? - cry his friends in unison.

- Yeah, what? - Ahito smiles. - The super big guy was Aarch, guys. Don't tell me you didn't recognize him?

Immediately, D’jok, Thran and Micro-Ice rush in pursuit of Aarch, who has left the Cafeteria. Taking the sofa for himself, Ahito lies down, just to take a nap during the adverts. So much action is tiring...

In Akillian's blue night, Aarch and Clamp quietly descend the staircase that leads to the city centre and their hotel.

- You see, Clamp, I feel that with your machines and my ideas, we're going to do great things.

- That’s what I’ve been telling you, Aarch!

#galactik football #the revival of akillian #might post some thoughts separately later

18 notes · View notes

so-flashtastic · 7 years

Text

Ain’t no prince waiting for me

Soulmate AU Pairing: Barry Allen x reader

Summary: In spite of her tattoo, Y/N Y/L/N has given up this soulmate thing. She simply doesn’t believe it, she’s convinced that she’s doomed to never find her true love. But will an unfortunate event change that?

Warning: Eddie’s still alive!! He’s not going to die in my AU either;))

A/N: OK, so I have always wanted to do a soulmate-AU, I simply find the clichés adorable! In this one, the soulmate thing is the partner’s first words the first time they meet each other, but hey! If you liked this, and want m to make another soulmate-imagine, send me your idea! Enjoy:))

ϟϟϟϟϟ

“I’m telling you, Blaise, I just don’t believe in it!” Y/N was yet again arguing with her best friend about the idiotic soulmate thing. “How can you not believe in it? This is how life works, how God have made it easier for us to find one another!” It was almost pointless to continue. The two had two completely different ideologies. Blaise: the girl who believed in fate, in God, in the stupid tattoos. And then there was Y/N: the one that believed in science, in random happenings and that were convinced she would die alone.

“You will never understand, B, I will never have what you and Hunter have,” this provoked Blaise, how could her almost perfect, best friend think so little of herself? “Of course you will, your wrist is proof of that, now stop the bullshit talk, Y/N,” her tone short and sharp. “But Blaise, I swear I’m cursed or something! My younger siblings have met their partners, my whole family has always found their soulmates at a young age. All of my friends have their partners, heck you and Hunter have a kid, Blaise!”

“You’re not cursed, Y/N,” “Just look at this Blaise, it’s pure evil, my tattoo says ‘wow’! That can be anyone, it can be a creep, a jackass, it can be any guy on the planet!” “You need to stop being so pessimistic, Y/N, it doesn’t suit you,” Blaise kept her mouth in a thin line. “The complex is weird and unnatural,” “You can’t just say that!” “Watch me!” Y/N challenged, and shouted at the top of her lungs, which made Blaise just want to disappear. So she dragged her friend through the park. “Don’t wake Amos, Y/N,” she excused, and their discussion stopped there, the next talking-topic being how Y/N was doing at work.

“It’s so cool,” “It’s not that cool, Cisco,” Barry chuckled. His friend, teammate, and colleague had not stopped looking at his wrist in awe. “But it is! I mean, come on! The damsel falling in love with her hero – it’s a classic!” Cisco referred to the words ‘Holy crap, it’s him!’ “You know, it can also just be a girl that doesn’t like me or something, or-“ "Nope, this right here, my man, is a line said in adoration,” Cisco patted Barry’s back, and they went back to their work.

Y/N sat on the Haydens’ couch as her friend walked around her apartment. “He gets to bed at-” “Seven, you know Blaise, I have babysitted Seany before, I know the drill: Dinner’s at 5, so that’s out of the way, if he’s hungry I can give him some fruits, bedtime’s at seven, but it’s no crisis if it gets closer to eight, and there’s food for me in the fridge for me to take whenever I want. I’m not the teenager neighbor you had to book last minute, B,” It was Blaise and Hunter’s date night, and as usual Y/N was there to babysit 'lil Sean.

“Of course, of course! I’m so sorry, just a bit nervous,” Y/N rolled her eyes at her friend, this was what happened each time, and Blaise would always start excusing herself for not 'trusting you enough’. This time, the difference was that Y/N managed to make that part take less time, and she pushed her almost hyperventilating best friend out the door to her husband.

“…And the Flash saves the day yet again,” Y/N closed her laptop and looked over to the other end of the couch, where the Flash’s biggest fan of the age of 3 laid with a clear view to her feet. “Kiddo, that was the last article, sorry bud,” “Have you checked Iris West?” What that still amazed Y/N about Sean, was that in spite of his lack of abilities when it came to naming the alphabet, and counting to fifteen like the other kids, he had this huge interest in The Flash – which made him speak of certain journalists as if he knew them. “We just read Iris West, Seany, I’m sorry,“

“What does yours say, aunty Y/N?” Sean looked at her wrist, which Y/N huffed at. 'What is it with this world? Why are everyone so eager on those stupid tattoos?’ But she pulled herself together and forced a smile. "You see, Sean, aunt Y/N isn’t as lucky as all the other ones, her tattoo doesn’t work,” “It doesn’t?” The little boy looked up at her with big, worried eyes, which by some way made Y/N feel bad for him. “No, but I’m sure yours work! Mommy’s and daddy’s worked, I’m just a bit less lucky,”

“Do you think the Flash has a tattoo?” Sean asks, which make Y/N laugh – if those words had come out of any other’s mouth, she would have rolled her eyes. “I believe so, yes,” “You are very pretty, aunty Y/N,” right there was one of the many reasons Y/N loved Sean. Sure, he wasn’t the best at keeping a conversation – that boy was more distracting than any kid Y/n had ever met. But in the end, Sean was this great, funny, bubbly guy that Y/N loved hanging out with. “Thank you, that was a very nice thing to say, you’re very handsome as well," "What if Flash is your soulmate?” Y/N almost choked, but before she could say anything, Sean continued: “Or maybe Patrick, he’s very cool, he works with the big kids,” exhaling, Y/N was relieved her little random, darling duckling was back.

The all too familiar sound of metal meeting glass rang through the room, and so Barry tried his best at not sinking deep into his chair. “I would like to make a toast…” It was his beautiful best friend, Iris, and her fiancé Eddie’s engagement party, and even though he couldn’t be more happy for the two, he couldn’t shake off the sad feeling in his heart. His parents, his friends – it even seemed like the little kids that were running around had found their partners for life. Barry couldn’t take one step anywhere, without being reminded that he hadn’t found his soulmate yet.

“You know, I met my mate at the age of 13,” the drunk next to Barry stated. “I heard the most regular age to meet is between 9 and 23,” Was it Eddie’s cousin that said that? “How 'bout you, Terry? Found the love of your life yet?” 'How did I even end up here?’ Barry smiled at the old man. “No, but I-” “Gary! His name is Gary, grandpa!" "I’ll just go and find Iris,” Barry enlightened to the little party, and then left to do just so.

“Barry! Hey, I haven’t seen you at all tonight!” Iris had clearly gotten a few glasses, but when she saw right through the fake smile of Barry Allen, her tipsy state disappeared right away. “Uhm, babe, I’ll just go get more ice,” once Eddie had given his wife-to-be a kiss in acknowledgment, the two best friends found their way to the porch.

Iris had a feeling what had caused barry’s light frown but had let him talk out about it anyway. “Barry, you’re going to be fine. Look, I’m sure your girl’s just right around the corner, whomever up there would be a real ass if she’s not,” her last comment made Barry smile. “Yeah, of course,” he nodded, regretting that he’d taken his best friend out of her own engagement party.

It wasn’t an everyday thing for Y/N Y/L/N to go to Tiffany’s to eat her breakfast. Thing is, she always had a wish to do so – let her inner Audrey Hepburn shine. So today, she could happily cross it off her bucket list. What she hadn’t thought of though, was Central City being a slightly criminal city, with many jewelry-loving evil metahumans. So in her little black dress, matching gloves, big dark sunglasses and pearl necklace, Y/N witnessed the first robbery in her life. ’It will be fine, Y/N. What’s the odds of anyone coming and ripping off your grandmother’s pearls in the middle of the streets? Oh God, what have I ever done to deserve this?’ Y/N thought of her earlier words to herself, almost shaking by the thought of the scene she frightened happening.

She waited for the alarm that never came and looked around herself. One babysitter strolling with a toddler, a man in a suit, and herself – that meant two witnesses if anything happened. When the nanny and the businessman soon disappeared, Y/N decided to try her breakfast at Tiffany’s another time. 'Time to use those ninja-skills you brag about to Sean,’ “Oh hello,” A not-too-friendly voice spoke up behind her. 'Oh merde,'

Deciding to pretend she hadn’t heard him, Y/N sped up her pace, walking as fast as a girl in heels could. Suddenly she felt her necklace get pulled backward so hard she got troubles breathing, making her whole body follow. “That’s some lovely piece of woman your jewelry got there,” that must have been the lamest, creepiest pick-up line Y/N had ever heard. With no one in sight, she tried her best to distract his attention away from robbing her. But instead of saying: “The pearls were my grandmothers”, whimpers escaped her lips. “Flash,” the meta behind her seemed both tense and annoyed. If she could, Y/N would have breathed out in relief, but that being difficult, she tried her best just breathing normally.

Usually, when Barry went into Flash-mode, he didn’t notice the ones around him that weren’t in danger. His eyes were on the metas, and the metas only, so when he was done defeating the telekinesis, had sped him off to the old particle accelerator, his next task was at hand: Double check on the wounded. Though when he did came back, there weren’t many people at the crime-scene. “Wow…” Barry said quietly, taking in the rich girl’s appearance. Her hair was sat up in a weird, kind of snobbish way, but that suited her in a way. And her lips! Her beautiful, pink lips, parted a bit because of the shock probably. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see the color of her, most likely, stunning eyes. The pearls were placed against her collarbones perfectly, and along with the black dress she looked very put together: Very higher-class: Very not the kind of people Barry hung out with – or were in his league.

At that same time, Y/N had just thawed from her frozen state: It was actually the Flash. He was in front of her. And before she could stop herself, the words spilled form her lips: “Holy shit it’s him,” All she could think about was the face behind the mask. Would his smile match the warm, green and kind eyes? Would his personality do as well? Would he be a stuck up jerk, or the nicest guy possible? She wanted to see him, the real hero under the suit. Though just when she saw a blurred picture of him opening his mouth, Y/N lost control of her now numb body, and passed out.

“Now that’s one fine looking lady you got there, Bar,” Joe said, looking over to the other room at the rich girl. “Pretty good catch if she’s not a monster,” Cisco sucked on his lollypop while following Joe’s gaze. She’d been unconscious for about an hour, and Barry still hadn’t moved his attention from the sleeping beauty. “Yeah…” He had answered, hoping for just that.

Y/N had found out, the hard way, that it was a terrible thing to pass out. Not only the uncomfortable feeling of not being able to see for seconds before she lost it, but also losing control of her legs. When she heard unfamiliar voices around her, Y/N decided it was for the best not to open her eyes completely just yet. “Pretty good catch if she’s not a monster,” 'Oh dear God. I’m in my Holly-costume,“ "Yeah…” 'This honestly can’t get worse’Y/N kept thinking about the endless choices of near futures she had. Her rescuers could be kidnappers. The kidnappers could jury her in many ways, and considering her choice of outfit, robbery didn't seem impossible. 'Oh please God almighty, please say they're not rapists!' "Hey, is it normal for unconscious people to have nightmares?" 'Crap, Blaise was right, I really need to work on my poker face! God dammit Y/N!' Deciding her little act didn't hold, Y/N opened her eyes, the first thing she saw being a wrist with black ink.

"Wow..." That was the second time that day. Barry just couldn't stop himself, her eyes... They were the absolute perfect shade of Y/E/C. "Shit," the stranger girl's words were almost impossible to catch, but Barry did, and saw her eyes glued on his tattoo. His eyebrows furrowed, what was she doing? But once their eyes locked for what had to be the third time that day, he understood. "It's you," he stated. His soulmate nodded. "I'm Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N," She whispered, still looking deep into his eyes. "Barry Allen," at that he closed the gap. They kissed. Her on the bed, and him hovering over her. It didn't take may minutes before Cisco made a big deal out of it. "I told you, man!" He outed right after a wolf whistle. And the happy couple smiled. They had finally found each other. After all that time.

ϟϟϟϟϟ

A/N: The hard part of writing such clichés as a soulmate imagine, is that it’s almost impossible to write good! SO I hope the cuteness (hopefully there’s some cuteness in here…) made up for the bad writing and crappy ending:))

1K notes · View notes