#YEAH BABY! WE'RE BACK!

[brown-little-robin]

38: Lightning Strike (Part One)

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Nevada, 1:00 in the afternoon, Pacific Time. The land is hilly but bare, full of treacherous ravines, covered with sharp plants and occasional scraggly juniper trees. The sun is searing into Thad’s eyes, turning every blade of grass into high-definition constructs, bleaching the sky white. There’s no human habitation in sight, and, Thaddeus is sure, for miles around.

All of the Allens are here.

Max Crandall and Thaddeus Free approach the group at a walk. There is no wind. Thaddeus’s shorts brush against his legs; his arms are bare. He dressed for the weather, hot, and for lightning, in case this operation overwhelms his friction aura and ruins his clothing.

Thaddeus keeps his head high and walks exactly at Max’s side. He is running on adrenaline, his focus narrowed to this moment, this one last mission. Get a lightning rod.

Every speedster in the world is here:

Jay Garrick, doffing his helmet, the only piece of his uniform he’s wearing. Thaddeus gives him a nod. Jay didn’t often kill him, but when he did, he made it quick. He appreciates it.

Jesse Quick, the only person in uniform. Either she didn’t get the memo about coming in civilian clothing or, more likely, she doesn’t trust Thaddeus with her identity. Fair enough.

Wally West, one hand on Irey West’s shoulder, the other on Jai’s. Thad’s eyes widen. He’s never seen Irey in person before; her red hair shines in the sun. He didn’t think—he didn’t think of this. That ‘all speedsters’ would include Wally’s children.

They look younger than him. Irey is bouncing on her tiptoes.

Thaddeus feels hot, cold, hot again. He’s grateful to the Wests for allowing their children to come. He hopes this operation doesn’t make him look weak in front of his cousins.

Bart Allen.

Bart Allen, twenty-one physical years old, tall and strong, his ring on his finger, ready to unspool his costume at a moment’s notice.

Thaddeus feels sick.

To prevent the bitter twist of his lip from growing to something dangerous, Thaddeus looks to Doctor Morlo, the huge leather suitcase in his hand. And, beside him, Joseph Wilson.

Thad smiles. He can’t help it. Joseph is wearing blue jeans and a shirt with a cartoony sunflower and words on it: Hello Sunshine!

Joseph waves to Thad, beaming. Thad’s smile grows a little wider.

Max asks “Where’s Raven?”

It breaks the weird stillness. Jesse shifts her position. Bart… Thaddeus looks away. He doesn’t want to know.

Irey waves. “Hi, cousin Thad!”

“Hi,” Thaddeus says, as softly as he can. He wonders what Bart thinks of him treating Irey like this. He wonders if Bart is offended she likes Thad. “Nice to meet you, Irey.”

Wally clears his throat. “I was just going to go get Raven. Zatanna should have been here already; I’ll check in with her, too. Be back in a flash!”

Jai rolls his eyes.

Wally disappears, leaving a little dust cloud behind. Thaddeus's body tenses, and Max’s hand comes to his shoulder, pressing hard. Thaddeus lifts his shoulder into Max’s hand. He’s grateful to Max for grounding him.

His eyes flick to Bart. Bart’s eyes, the same bright yellow as Thad’s, shimmer in the harsh light.

Vwoosh. Thad jolts, but Max’s hand on his shoulder keeps him from bolting at the abrupt appearance of Wally West.

The woman Wally was transporting hops out of his arms. She’s the backup magician: Zatanna, Thaddeus assumes, in see-through diamond-patterned leggings, a white button-down, and a top hat. The outfit does not inspire confidence.

A bloom of what looks like black smoke folds out into the shape of a bird, and Thad’s attention is fixed on Raven.

She looks as pale and strange as the day she pulled Thaddeus inside her and told him his soul was wounded. Your wounds are deep, she said, but they can heal in time. Well, look how that turned out. Thaddeus clawed himself out of the worst of his lethargy and cruelty, if only for survival’s sake, but he certainly isn’t any less wounded.

Raven closes her eyes, looking sad, and Thaddeus abruptly remembers she's a telepath.

Zatanna finishes giving Thaddeus an appraising look and turns to Wally West. “You sure about this?”

“Excuse you, I am six hundred years old and I can speak for myself!”

Zatanna pivots on her heel. Her eyebrows are raised.

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Yes!”

Zatanna purses her lips. “Fine. Your call. But if you are who I’ve heard you are, you’ll want to consider all your options.”

She’s heard who he is?! Of course she has. Thaddeus pushes his fear down and focuses on the mission. Options. Thaddeus likes the sound of that.

“We can talk. In private.”

Thaddeus glances defensively around the group of speedsters. To his surprise, Wally West and Jay Garrick are nodding.

Max says, “I’ll come with you.”

Max leads the way away from the group, far enough that they won’t be overheard. Thaddeus insists on going further, into a little ravine behind some trees. Bart has the ability to read lips.

Zatanna looks more at home in the witchy dark below the pines than she did in the harsh light. She speaks first.

“Let me get this straight. You want to psychically link your soul with Joseph’s? Using the timestream? To help with… anxiety?”

“Using the speed force,” Thaddeus corrects, rather than addressing Zatanna’s judgment. He does not want to deal with this right now. He wishes Max would step in. But although he can feel Max’s presence, heavy at his side, Max is silent.

Zatanna says, “Two words for the same thing. And this doesn’t seem extreme to you?”

“Extreme works.”

Zatanna gives a quick shrug.

“Have you considered that medication could solve your problem?”

Thaddeus laughs. It sounds bitter even to his own ears.

“Don’t you know? Medications don’t work on speedsters. Our metabolism is too fast.”

“But magic works on you?”

“Uh—” he blinks, fear rising in his throat. Magic could kill him.

“So enchant your pills,” Zatanna says, like a command. “Honestly, people don’t think things through.”

Thaddeus flinches at the rebuke, but stays silent, thinking. Enchanted medication? Is that what she’s suggesting? Enchanted… medicine. Would that work? Can magic do that? Make a physical substance proof against his lightning metabolism?

“Would that work,” he says flatly.

“Sure.”

Thaddeus bites his tongue. He needs the pain to keep him from floating away into the cloud of fear choking him. He breathes through his nose.

“Thad-boy,” Max’s voice says. “Why don’t we take a while and think about it? You don’t have to do anything today.”

He bites down harder. A burst of pain.

“No,” he snaps. “No, I need a lightning rod. I need it. Today. This is not just about anxiety. Anxiety is the least of my problems.”

“I can at least help illuminate his path,” Raven says, in her low, resonant voice.

“How?” Max asks. His hand comes down on Thaddeus’s shoulder again.

“I can talk to him,” Raven says. “Talk through what’s hurting him. Thad…”

Thaddeus glares at a pine tree between Zatanna and Raven, unable to meet their eyes and talk at the same time.

Raven says, “Talk to me here. Now, while you’re safe.”

“He is safe with his family,” Max says.

“He feels unsafe.”

“Fine,” Thaddeus says loudly, horrified that Raven said that in front of the magician. “Yes. I’ll talk to you here.”

He glances at Zatanna. She’s watching him shrewdly. Grife.

Zatanna says, “I’ll talk to you later. I have the hour before my next show, and Wally West knows where to find me. I’m sure you can take your time.”

Her nose wrinkles unhappily.

Does she not want to be here? Why did she agree to come here, anyway? Is West burning favors for Thad? Thaddeus hopes not. He doesn’t want to be in West’s debt.

Raven is coming towards him. She crouches in front of him.

“Ready?”

Thaddeus gives her a sharp nod.

He’s falling. He has impressions of heat and wind, of things moving all around him; he’s surrounded by pillars and walls of flesh.

And then Raven is standing in front of him, her hands on his shoulders. His feet touch down gently on a massive bone.

Raven smiles at him.

“Sorry,” she says. “I know it’s not the most comfortable place, but I thought you’d like to talk privately.”

“I did.”

He opens his mouth to say something more, to… demand something, keep her off guard, but he can’t think of anything. He just wants to be done with all this.

“I know,” Raven says.

Thaddeus shudders. He hates knowing that his mind isn’t a private place.

Raven removes her hands from his shoulders.

“You’ve never had much privacy.”

“No.”

Thaddeus tries to be unemotional about it, but the idea of having privacy is bringing up images in his mind—stumbling out of the nutrient womb naked, ashamed without knowing why; disembodied voices reprimanding him for missteps in VR programs; a dentist pushing his face to the side and breaking out his tooth—

“Enough,” Raven says, and the images cease like she clicked a button.

Wow. Thaddeus wishes he could do that to himself on command.

Raven smiles, and he wrinkles his nose at her wryly.

“So,” he says. “Uh… illuminate my… path.”

Raven sits down and pats the ground—the bone—in front of her. Thaddeus hesitates. He feels like if he sits down, he’ll lose the jittery energy keeping him going.

Raven waits.

Thaddeus sits. Digs his fingers into his thighs.

“So, you want to be able to escape.”

Thad flinches.

Escape what? The speed force? Eobard Thawne?

The Flash family?

Himself?

There’s silence. Hot, stinking wind. He can’t look at Raven, he just can’t, he can’t force his eyes up to look her in the face.

He wants to escape.

Finally, he whispers, “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” Raven says softly. “I just need you to relax, Thaddeus.”

“I can’t.”

If he relaxed, everything would spill out, all the weak emotions and secrets and—no. He has to keep his mind on lockdown. Raven will just have to deal with it.

“It’s not for me that I ask it.”

Oh?

“Yes. I can’t bind you to Joseph if you’re…”

“Freaking out?” Thaddeus spits.

“Mm.”

Thad’s whole body tenses. Do you have to be calm to get a lightning rod? Will he fail before he's even begun?

Then the tension eases. He calms. His breath comes slower.

Huh.

“Was that you?”

“Yes.”

Huh. Again, Thaddeus wishes he could do that to himself. It was so easy for her to prevent him from spiraling into panic.

“If you need me to be calm, why don’t you make me?”

“It has to be you,” Raven says.

What does that mean?

“The emotional work… has to be you. If I force you to trust Joseph, it will fade within the day.”

His breath catches. Raven can’t help him?

“I can channel the speed force into your decision,” Raven replies softly. “I can intensify what you already feel to the point that… hopefully… your powers recognize that you need a lightning rod, that you trust Joseph enough for it to be him.”

“It’s not about trust,” Thaddeus corrects. “It’s… love.”

Raven tilts her head.

“Usually. But for you, for a lightning rod…” Thaddeus doesn’t want to hear this— “For you, it’ll be about trust.”

Thad is a freak.

Even if he is capable of a lightning rod connection, it can’t be love, for him. Just animal trust, like he’s some kind of lizard whose highest brain function is not to run away.

“No,” Raven says immediately. “I promise you’re not a freak. You’re just young.”

Thaddeus hesitates, thrown. What does age have to do with it?

“It is simply different for a child. Adults run to people they love as an act of sacrifice and devotion. Children run to people they trust.”

Oh. Well, that’s an interesting concept. Thaddeus has a vague idea that he saw children run to their parents in some of his simulations, the ones where Inertia’s fights caused destruction in civilian areas. He remembers how they’d call for their mother, their father, flee to their stronger and faster counterparts to be saved.

Thaddeus has never been one of those children.

“Why…” Thaddeus falters.

Why do you count me as a child? I’m six hundred years old and I’m not a child, never a child—

Raven answers with a question: “Isn’t it a relief?”

Yes. Yes, it is. Thaddeus would be completely doomed if he had to muster up lightning-rod love for Joseph. He’s not even entirely convinced that he loves Helen.

Yes he does.

No he doesn’t.

Yes, he loves Helen.

No, that’s not possible, right?

Raven is listening!

Thaddeus speaks over his own mind: “So I need to trust him?”

Raven nods, mercifully refraining from commenting on his internal debate.

“I can summon the speed force through you. What happens then… I don’t know. It’s up to you to communicate with it. I’ll attempt to aid you, but… there's only so much I can do.”

Communicate with the speed force. Like it’s a person. Hmm. Crazy as the idea is… isn’t that what he was doing while inside it? Running through it, keeping himself away from its powerful core and its spirits, trying to predict its actions, avoiding its storms? Didn’t he feel that the bubbles of calm were signs of approval?

Can he communicate to the speed force that he trusts Joseph? That seems like a pretty complicated concept for something as primal as the speed force to understand.

Can he even survive direct contact with it?

It’s not like he has a choice.

“All right,” Thaddeus says. “I’ll do it.”

The middle of Nevada, 1:18 in the afternoon, Central Time. The sun is searing into Thad’s eyes, bleaching the sky white.

Everyone is here.

The Flash family is watching him from a respectful distance away. Thaddeus ignores them. Bart hasn't tried to catch his attention, for which Thaddeus is… grateful.

Thaddeus is kneeling, hands on his knees, breathing, breathing, trying to stay calm. Joseph in front of him; their knees almost touch. Raven crouches like a bird to Thaddeus's left, Joseph's right. Zatanna is standing with Wally West, observing, ready to step in if she needs to. Doctor Morlo looks like a worried thundercloud, but he gives Thad a thumbs-up.

Raven says, “Take each other's hands.”

Joseph holds out his hands. Thaddeus leans forward and places his hands in Joseph’s.

Joseph's hands are big and warm. Thad wishes he could just give Joseph a hug and be done with this.

He summons his power. Raven will be inside his mind, there with him to help as she sees fit, but Thaddeus will start this process and Thaddeus will complete it. He feels the initial surge of power-adrenaline that comes with the speed force, the same every time, no matter how long he lives. But he takes it slow.

Joseph’s hands tighten. Thaddeus keeps his hands limp in Joseph’s; he doesn’t want to hurt the man, moving at this speed. He looks up at Joseph, watches how his breathing slows and stops as Thaddeus pulls more and more power into himself.

He tries not to think about the speedsters around him, watching him like a pack of dogs surrounding a coyote.

Joseph's eyes close, and by the time they drift open, Thaddeus’s arms are crackling with the sparks of his power. Thaddeus is fast enough to outrace a cheetah, a scream, Max Mercury himself. Faster.

I am going to summon the speed force now.

And then—

Brightness. A beam of light rises from the ground through his body. Other, thinner beams of light rise from the ground around them. An ozone smell. Lightning. Thaddeus pulls faster, and he knows lightning can’t hurt him but it’s so bright—

He throws back his head, tracing the lightning bolt up from himself. Through the white sky above him is coming another lightning bolt, bigger and stronger and faster.

The two bolts connect.

Thaddeus feels pain—an eternity—he thinks he screams, he doesn’t know, he can’t feel his body—it HURTS—it’s too MUCH—

And then he’s not in pain and he can breathe again, but there’s still this bolt of lightning cracking and spitting all around him, faster than he is, even through Thaddeus can feel—he knows that he’s faster than he’s ever been before. It’s unimaginably bright. Thaddeus is blind. And he is not alone.

The spirits. The spirits he spent so long running from, they’re here, they’re standing around him on each point where a feeler of lightning rose from the ground. He can feel them.

“You wanted to talk to the speed force, kid,” comes a voice from behind him. “Here we are.”

“I—” Thaddeus doesn’t want to understand, but he does. The lightning he’s encased in is the speed force itself, but he’s too little and weak to talk to it. He’d die. He has to talk to the spirits instead.

They’re heroes. Barry Allen is among them. They’re going to drag him back to the speed force and rip him apart. He’s going to die.

“Speak,” says a spirit from his right.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” comes a voice from his left.

“We were never going to hurt you, Thad,” in front.

“But speak. You haven’t got much time,” behind.

Thaddeus is trembling, hair floating around his head. An eerie burning sparks down his spine. Grife, the nerve damage this could do—could already be doing—

“I need help,” he says, pleads, throws out his weakness in front of these spirits like baring his throat. “I need a lightning rod. Please. Bind me to Joseph.”

He has nothing to bargain with.

He’s shaking convulsively. He doesn’t know if his hands, outside the beam of white lightning, are still resting in Joseph’s. He can’t feel his hands. His body is going numb and all his nerves are on fire.

“You ask us to provide what you can’t grasp yourself, little wayward bolt.”

Thaddeus falters. He can feel Raven in his mind, feeding him strength, but it’s like she’s pouring water into a broken cup.

“Please, I trust him!”

“You trust no one,” a spirit hisses. And then there’s a cacophony of voices, loud, crackling, around and inside him: “Child—” “Ran from us—” “Paranoid—” “Thawne—” “Seven years—” “Bart’s—” “Soul-bonded—” “If—”

HE CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

Thaddeus looks up into the white of the lightning and screams.

The voices stop. Raven’s presence stops. The sounds of lightning stop. He’s in a blank white space, and there’s just one person in front of him. One single spirit, yellow and flickering. Thaddeus can’t make out any features.

There’s silence for a while. Thaddeus calms down, increment by increment. He lets his empty hands fall into his lap.

“Here, beloved,” the spirit says. “Is this better?”

Thad can’t speak.

[mokeonn]

One day I shall make a reference of my sweet ass fursona... That day is not today, here he is :3

[andorerso]

WIP Something

Jyn lets out a derisive huff, but she can’t really argue that point. “Oh yeah, you made a woman come. Congratulations. Do you want a cookie?”

Sure, she’s had partners who couldn’t find the clit with a map, but really. The bar is on the floor.

“I want you…” he begins, his voice a whisper, and suddenly their lips are inches apart, and Jyn isn’t moving. He trails off, his sentence open-ended, and the way he’s looking at her leaves her heart pounding in her chest.

“You want me to what?” she asks, just as quiet, and unable to tear her eyes away.

[t1meslayer]

Drowning (Ch. 1 - "Mipha's Lament")

Let's get ready for my favorite pastime:

Getting sad about fictional fish people all over again

===

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (part of my "Pre-Tears of the Kingdom" series)

Characters: Link/Zelda, Sidon (and other Zora in passing)

Summary: Prince Sidon brings Zelda and her loyal knight to a grand ceremony in the heart of Zora's Domain. However, his sparse invitation doesn't prepare Link for the emotional turmoil to come.

This story is rated 'Mature' for themes of dealing with grief and, in the coming Chapter 2, major character death.

Click through the Read More below to get a preview of the latest chapter. Thanks for reading <3

"Link, please! Quit fussing."

Zelda pulls the collar of her knight's Royal Guard uniform. Link gasps at the jolt to her eyeline, blue as the Silent Princesses woven into her short, golden hair. He devolves into a blushing Bokoblin.

The princess huffs.

"Honestly." She finishes fastening the emerald-set buttons that hold his uniform's navy tabard together. He remains still, bewitched by a Gorgon's glare. "It has only technically been 100 years since we attended a Zora ceremony. You and I both know you've not forgotten your manners."

[soft--dogs]

aaaaa i'm really excited about these pride chibis, i hope everyone likes them :3c i'm always worried about how long my queue is, and if it takes me longer than june to finish these, but i really wanted to do them. hopefully people don't mind if they end up going into july to complete, but i also might just be over-worrying as usual and i'll get them done on time xD

[gaydonweaver]

forgot his gay little glasses but that's ok (I have gay glasses too it's nothing to be ashamed of hashtag pride)

some doodles I made while I was experiencing nightcore brain rot and also thinking about panty stocking anime

Obviously this is the original image (iconic, beautiful, stunning, masterpiece, should be in museum):

[livetogether--diealone]

LEWIS, sunday - Singapore GP 23

[locria-writes]

Just wanted to say I greatly appreciate your wide array of trashmen. For too long have we been subjected to cookie-cutter good boys, I want grit and mild discomfort with my male options. I want to feel like I'm actively making a bad decision while perusing them.

once upon i think my blog description was like "enabling bad choices" or something to that effect lol

[bugtransport]

sonoi– do you have dreams?

[defeateddetectives]

was having natsume's book of friends vs. matoba's book of enemies* thoughts again while waiting for the subway earlier today as one does and thinking about their default standing at the start of not just the series but also their lives and then throughout

many others have written probably far more coherently about this being a story about different takes on legacy which never ever stops to fascinate me but the way that natsume starts his life born as grandchild of reiko who vanished into obscurity but was immensely powerful and able to make contracts with immensely powerful yokai (often after beating them through either simple friendly games or trickery but never cruelty) and grows up with no real sense of connectedness with family until much later and inherited this collection of contracts that he now takes it upon himself to release them from these contracts as a way to restore the balance :)

and matoba who is born into notoriety into the strongest clan of exorcists (who by definition eradicate yokai) growing up with an identity impossible to extricate from his family and inheriting threats and curses and immense power that the entire exorcist community counts on him to uphold even as they hate him for it on top of inheriting mistrust from human and yokai alike what with the inability to make a contract because of his name alone and inheriting a legacy of violence and cruelty and so has continued to perpetuate it because there seems to be no other viable alternative to maintain the status quo of remaining the head of the strongest exorcist clan which is supposed to be his one (1) job :)))

[*the matoba seiji pov series that lives in my head]

[ndostairlyrium]

*gestures vaguely* I guess we're serious about this

[stove---top]

live laugh lobotomy!

[woahjo]

for anyone who cares, I FINALLY DECIDED HOW WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO DO WHEN YOU'RE DEAD IS GONNA END... AND I WILL BE FINISHING IT!!!!

[minaharkers]

Devrim Lingnau as Elisabeth von Wittelsbach

The Empress 1x01

[vse-kar-vem]

why are we having queerbaiting discourse as a fandom in the year of our lord 2024 😭😭 we're just as bad as twitter oh my god

[dandelionandkrindle]

WORLD OF WARCRAFT • LOCATIONS (101/?) Ghostlands (part. ll)