#almost there fic

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Almost There

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam

Summary: Everyone always knew Bart was eccentric, but the family becomes concerned when he starts talking to someone that doesn’t exist.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Bart Allen, Thad Thawne, Owen Mercer, Don Allen, Meloni Allen, Digger Harkness, Iris West, Barry Allen, Max Mercury, Helen Claiborne

Relationships: DonMeloni, BarryIris, WallyLinda

Additional Tags: Bart Allen-centric, Thad Thawne POV, No Powers AU, Imaginary Friends, Misdiagnosis, Blind Date, Hurt Bart Allen, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Chapter One: We Were Six

We were six years old when Bart nearly died. Six. He was in the hospital for four days. It was the longest we’d ever been apart. I might’ve lost my mind if Owen hadn’t been there. I still feel like that sometimes when we’re apart… Like he’ll die and leave me missing the other piece of me. Bart’s never been careful, and I guess that’s why I’m sitting here writing all this. Someone has to write Bart’s story, and it should be me. Maybe it’ll help me be less afraid of losing him. Maybe it’ll make him more careful.

Okay. How do I start? Let’s try this:

We’re mirror-image twins. An extremely rare occurrence among twins. He was right-handed, and I was left. He had a birthmark on the left side of his chest at the bottom of his ribcage. I had the same birthmark on the right. Bart had a crooked grin where his lips curled up toward the right side of his face, and my grin curled up toward the left side. We did everything together, but we couldn’t be more different. I was shy, boring, and prone to emotional outbursts, while Bart was outgoing, odd, and unruffled. I wanted to be him sometimes. Absorb the best parts of him and walk around smiling his smile and laughing his laugh. But that’s beside the point. We’re mirror-image twins… And no one knows my twin better than I do. That’s why I know he’s not hallucinating. So don’t assume I’m writing this about my poor sick brother. I’m writing about the tragedy of strange gifts.

Bart was sick with pneumonia when we were six years old, and I was sure he’d die. I could feel it. It felt like the moment before you pass out, and your heart flutters and your head goes all fuzzy. I remember gripping the hospital bed's railing as the doctors tried to separate us. I couldn’t leave his side. The monitor beeped, alerting the nurses to his low oxygen level, and his eyes rolled back. I was twinless for eighty-five seconds. Eighty-five agonozing seconds. My body went cold, and Owen dragged me out of the room, kicking and screaming, but I couldn’t hear myself.

Then Grandpa Barry came out, and he rubbed my back. “It’s okay. Bart’s okay… They’ve got him back. He needs to rest, but he’ll be better once they stabilize him,” Grandpa Barry reassured me. He got us a pizza, and we ate in the parking lot that night because I refused to leave the hospital. Bart slept in a medically-induced coma for two days until the doctors said my brother could breathe without assistance, and I visited him on the third day. He sipped warm apple juice through a straw, and Mom held the cup.

None of us spoke. The room was eerily silent as we waited for Bart to speak. “Don’t go,” Bart rasped as he stared straight ahead. None of us moved. It was like he saw straight through us.

“Who’re you talking to, Bubba?” Dad asked.

“My friend… The lady,” Bart whispered, “She’s right there.”

Mom smiled and exhaled gently. “Oh, is she your age?” Mom questioned.

“No. My friend’s almost a grownup… Like Wally… Do you know her, Wally?” Bart asked. Wally knit his brows together and shook his head.

“Is she cute?” Wally asked. I couldn’t speak. They were all making jokes, and Bart was serious. I think he knew they didn’t believe him.

“She’s not laughing,” Bart muttered. I climbed into bed with him and laid my head on his shoulder.

“Bart? Do you want me to stay?” I asked. I wanted him to ask me, but I knew he wouldn’t. I wanted him to tell me he needed me, but he didn’t speak. He linked pinkies with me. That gesture meant everything to me. It was our I love you. It was our Never leave me.

It was the first time he mentioned his friend, but it wouldn’t be the last. To be honest, I was so preoccupied with being jealous of her that I never once doubted her existence. Bart didn’t get released from the hospital until the end of the week, but no one told me why he couldn’t come home. Not the real reason anyway. I was much older when Grandpa told me Bart had a brain examination. I felt terrible for all the years I joked about him getting his head checked.

Grandpa stayed home with Owen and me, playing games with us, while Mom, Dad, and Grandma stayed with Bart. We sat on the floor, gluing jigsaw puzzles with wood glue and small wooden boards. The jigsaws taught me a lesson. You start with the edges to see the picture. That was how people had to see Bart. Once you got Bart’s outer pieces, you could see him for what he was. And that’s how I managed to make sense of Bart’s gift my whole life.

Everyone thought he came back wrong, but no one would have known this was his gift all along. Even when the hospital discharged him, Bart didn’t get to come straight home. He got to stay with Uncle Max and Aunt Helen. Mom said he needed the extra attention and the wide-open space. I cried constantly during that time.

It wasn't until I stopped eating that they brought him home. I never had the words to say what I wanted from my parents, and it frustrated me to no end. Owen tried to understand, but no one knew the bond I had with Bart. No one could possibly understand how I felt. Not even Dad.

I had to be there when we picked him up at the airport. His eyes never fixed themselves on me. He always looked elsewhere. I wanted him to see me. Run to me. I wanted him to show signs that he loved me like I loved him. "Helen, she is real! You can't see her, but she's there! And she's not-!" I touched his hand.

"I missed you," I whispered, "Could you-?" I couldn't ask him for a hug. I was so terrified he'd say no.

"Let's go play," Bart replied angrily as he grabbed my hand. He led me away from the adults and toward the treehouse Grandpa built. We climbed up the ladder and shut the door. "They want to make her go away… I like her." He muttered something after that, but I couldn't understand it. To anyone else he would've seemed crazy, but I couldn't see him like that. It seemed strange to me that the adults were so frightened of Bart's friend. He liked her and they wanted her to go away. It didn't make any sense.

"Bart? Are you angry?" I asked. Bart looked away from me and nodded at the window before cradling my cheek and kissing my forehead. It was such a tender and compassionate gesture. Completely out of Bart's character.

That's how I knew she wasn't imaginary. I smiled our crooked grin and threw myself into his arms. "I can't see her, but I know she's there," I thought. I wanted to say it aloud, but I couldn't.

[eddiediaaz]

(you don't have to be a frequent enjoyer of either to vote. weed can mean any type of marijuana products: joints, edibles, oils, etc.)

add where you're from in the tags if you feel like it!

[pacificwaternymph]

Did you guys know that Duke's tag on Ao3 only has 7,000 fics? Because I didn't.

[numberonedukethomasapologist]

(This is so random and I'm going a bit insane at almost 3am😫)

Duke: Tim! Wssp?

Tim: *face half an inch away from his phone* reading.

Duke: reading what?

Tim: 🧍🏻‍♂️

Duke:🧍🏾‍♂️

Tim *mumbles*

Duke: huh?

Tim: *mumbles a bit louder* superbat😔

Duke: omg?? *whips out his phone and opens a recent tab* same?!

*staring at eachother in disbelief for a solid minute*

[Meanwhile in the other room]

Jason: *writing superbat fics*

[thekaiserroll]

Hug

It's nearly impossible to have a quiet and peaceful day with the crew, like the strawhats. Nami is mostly used to the noise on Going Merry but one day she gets fed up with Zoro and Sanji arguing. Not only are they extremely loud, but they've also already broken way too many things during their fights.

She decides that If they want to act like brats, then she's going to treat them as such. So she makes them apologize and hug each other in silence for an hour. None of them are happy about this punishment, but Nami threatened to raise Zoro's debt, and Sanji couldn't say no to her. It could be worse.

It's awkward enough for them to not incite any fight for a long time and Nami is quite proud of herself. She knows it won't last forever but at least now she knows how to handle them. It inevitably happens again. And again. And again.

Much to her surprise, those fights became more and more frequent. And what's even weirder is that she could see the way both Zoro and Sanji occasionally glanced at her to make sure she was nearby. It's almost as if they wanted someone to make them hug each other. As if they needed an excuse.... these idiots.

Soon, they don't even need Nami's help. When they aren't busy training, cooking or fighting, they cuddle together. Sometimes Luffy or Chopper would join them, but most of the crew knew it was their time.

After two years spent separately, they became extremely clingy. It's no surprise when they start sleeping in the same bed. What is surprising is that despite them behaving like a lovey-dovey couple, those oblivious idiots are STILL unaware of each other's feelings.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Maddie: If you don't behave, I'll be forced to send you to your Godfather, young lady. He'll straighten you out. Jazz: Oh, when Danny sneaks out, he gets more chores but when I sneak out-wait. Godfather? I have one of those? Maddie: Yes of course, why wouldn't you? Jazz: I've never met him. I always assumed you guys forgot to give me one. Maddie: Oh no, it's just that your godfather is always so busy, and finding the time in his schedule is brutal. But he would be delighted to see you. I used to always send him photos of you, and he sent us some money for your college fund. Jazz: Wait, he's the one that's been funding my college fund? Who is he? Maddie: Bruce Wayne Jazz: .....How do you know, Bruce Wayne!? Maddie: We go way back. When we were kids, Brucie and I used to run around looking for Ghosts in Gotham as the sole members of the Ghost Hunters Club. He was always really into myths and legends. Before I met your father, I was planning on marrying Brucie. Just so we didn't have to deal with people constantly harassing us for our hands in marriage. Jazz pulling out a notepad: I'm going to need you to explain your entire lore to me in great detail mom. Maddie: Well, as you know I was disowned- Jazz: Disowned?! Maddie: Uh-huh. I was disowned, and so was your Aunt Alicia when she divorced. I broke the deal to become Lady Wayne, and Father lost his mind. He's one of those men who believes women are just meant to be married off, you know, the type. Anway Brucie snuck me out of Gotham by stealing a boat form the harbor, while his Butler returned fire to Father's men- Jazz: Wait. Why were they shooting at you? Maddie: Father was throwing a fit. Anyway, we're speeding down the Brown River, ducking and weaving. Bullets flew through the air like the rain of the storm we hoped to use to cover our tracks. Alfred was shooting them down one by one and- Jazz: Hold on. Let me get some recording equipment. I need to be able to review this later. I'm still trying to process Bruce Wayne being my godfather. Maddie: Alright, sweetie. You know Father died a few years back, so I could return to Gotham. Maybe we should give Brucie a visit. I hear he has plenty of children now, and it would be nice to meet them! Jazz walking up the stairs in a daze: Bruce Wayne is my godfather....Mom had to escape Gotham through a shootout....She calls him Brucie...Granddad was evil???

[betrayalandbetrayed]

If anyone knows of a crack fic where Jason and Damian are fighting over who has the highest kill count, and it turns into this large thing with like a betting pool. So Oracle takes over and spends like a week determining exactly how many deaths each person has caused.

I think it went Steph and Duke at the bottom with 0, Cass with 1, Dick with 11, then Jason and Damian, and finally Tim in like the 10,000s.

It was funny as far as I remember

[choccy-milky]

herbology class 🌹🌿 (from chap 2 of my fic!)

[nonranghaes]

there's a disturbance in the apartment, and it's enough to wake up seungcheol. you aren't in bed with him, which... okay, already bad when he's in a clingier mood, but there's something off about it all. he squints at his phone, slowly registering that it's almost ten in the morning. and immediately, he's throwing his blankets off, going to search for you. you turned off his alarms. no doubt because he doesn't have to work today. you're always (lovingly) nagging him about getting more sleep, the same thing he does to you, but that doesn't change anything--

the minute he opens the door, he figures out what's wrong. his roommates have you. jeonghan's got his phone in his hands, and joshua has an arm draped around your shoulders, and the three of you are laughing at something.

"really?" you gasp, "no!"

"yes!" jeonghan's laughing. "his hair used to look like that."

oh. fuck. hell. shit. seungcheol's already making his way over, nearly stumbling on his way out of his room. it's the opening that jeonghan needs to immediately jolt from his spot, phone clasped protectively in his grasp.

"what are you showing them?!" he barks as he walks past where joshua's cackling next to you. you catch him by the hand before he gets too far, and he lets you tether him to this spot as jeonghan cowers by the wall (and by 'cowers,' seungcheol means he's curled up and still laughing like the evil, evil man he is).

"nothing!"

seungcheol turns his focus onto joshua, who's already moving to leap over the back of the couch. he catches him by the back of his t-shirt, and it's like he's a cat with the way he pretty much turns to liquid to slip out of it. he apologizes to you as he bolts back to his own room, door slamming behind him, right as jeonghan's getting to his own.

with a sigh, seungcheol looks at you, joshua's shirt still in his hand. "well?"

you just grin at him, curling up on the couch. "... you look hot as a blonde."

oh. he's gonna kill them for dragging up his old, cringe-y college pictures. but first... maybe he should make an appointment with his hairdresser.

y'know. just to see if blonde does look good on him still.

[queer-here-and-in-fear]

hobie meeting rio: oh im so happy to meet you mrs.morales. mm, is that pasta? it smells bloody amazing.

hobie meeting jeff: hi jeff. stares directly into his eyes, slightly squinting

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Almost There

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam

Summary: Everyone always knew Bart was eccentric, but the family becomes concerned when he starts talking to someone that doesn’t exist.

Chapters: 2/?

Characters: Bart Allen, Thad Thawne, Owen Mercer, Don Allen, Meloni Allen, Digger Harkness, Iris West, Barry Allen, Max Mercury, Helen Claiborne

Relationships: DonMeloni, BarryIris, WallyLinda

Additional Tags: Bart Allen-centric, Thad Thawne POV, No Powers AU, Imaginary Friends, Misdiagnosis, Blind Date, Hurt Bart Allen, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Chapter Two: Float

When Bart and I were eight, we went to the swamp to sail paper boats on the water. It was one of the rare times that Bart asked to play with me. We put on our rain boots and trudged through the marsh. I crouched beside the pond blowing on our boats to push them across the water. “Do you think they’ll stop beating me up if I stop bringing CRAYDL to school?” I asked as I reached up to touch the corner of my healing black eye. It didn’t hurt to the touch anymore, but that didn’t make a difference to Bart.

“They’re gonna stop beating you up because I told ‘em to stop. Mom said I could beat them up if they keep bothering you,” Bart replied as he dislodged a stone from the mud with his foot. He’d been working at it for a while.

“Dad says it won’t always be like this at school for me,” I replied.

“Yeah, if I beat them up-.”

“Why does everyone wanna fight all the time? Dad says we should fight with our minds-.”

“I’ll headbutt one of ‘em for you,” Bart replied, “Sometimes you gotta beat people up. They’re not being fair to you. They’re beating you up.”

“I guess you’re right,” I mumbled, “Still, I wish it wouldn’t have to be that way.”

He grew quiet, so I followed the boats around, twirling them in tiny circles. “Bart, why don’t you come close and play?” I asked. He didn’t answer, so I turned around, and he was gone. “Bart?”

My blood ran cold as my brain flooded with images of a certain child-eating clown. I shook as I grabbed our boats and tiptoed through the marsh alone. “Bart, please stop hiding… I don’t like hide-and-go-seek,” I murmured. I could feel someone watching me, but I was too afraid to look back. I walked a little faster. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was behind me. My stomach turned, and my feet stopped working.

I went cold as I felt a breath on my neck. I thought my heart would burst in my chest. “You’ll float too,” a clown-ish voice whispered in my ear, and I let out such a bloodcurdling scream that I threw up and wet myself. “Aw, man! Thad, I’m-.” I burst into tears, and Owen picked me up. “It’s alright. I shouldn’t have scared you so bad.”

His friend squealed with laughter. “It’s not funny, dingus! He’s crying! My mom’s gonna kill me!” Owen snapped. He kissed my temple. “Please stop crying, Bubba. I’ll give you-. Wait, where’s Bart?”

I started crying even harder. “I was looking for Bart! He disappeared!” I wailed. Owen rubbed my back.

“It’s okay. I bet you Bart went home or something. He couldn’t have gotten far. Let’s look together. Okay?” Owen reassured me. He hiked up the hill to the street, where Bart walked along the sidewalk. “Bart!”

He didn’t respond, but I heard him. I heard him speaking to someone. “Linda, wait!” Bart hollered as he ran across the street.

“Bart, no!” Owen screamed. He saw it before anyone else. The car hit Bart so hard it knocked his shoes off, and I threw myself out of Owen’s arms. I scraped my knees, and I crawled to him. Someone tried to grab me, but I screamed and fought. “Axel! Go get somebody! Go get my Mom! Get someone, please!”

Owen screamed and cried until the older boy got out of the car. He pushed him and wept. “You hit my brother! That’s my brother!” Owen shouted. The bakery was only three blocks from the swamp, but Axel was smart enough to use a pay phone at the corner to call Mom.

She ran there on foot with Dad and Auntie Dawn. Auntie Dawn pulled Owen away from the older boy and held on tight. Dad grabbed me from whoever held onto me.

“Thad, what happened? Why-? Why are you wet?” Dad asked. I couldn’t stop shaking or crying.

“Bubba, he-. Daddy-. I can’t breathe,” I panicked. Dad blew on my face like he did when I was little, but it didn’t help. The ambulance came, and they carried Bart away with Mom. Dad took Owen and me home. Dad ran me a bath, but I was in shock. I couldn’t move. He took a cup of water and sat it on the tub before supporting my neck in his palm and rinsing my hair. “It’s gonna be alright, Spud… I wish you-. I’m worried about you,” Dad whispered, “Please say something.”

“What happened to our boats?” I asked. “I had them in my hand.”

Dad wrapped me in towels and pulled the drain before placing two large dinosaur bandages on my skinned knees. “I can work with that. I’ll make you both ten boats each. I’m gonna make my world-famous Philly Joes. I won’t make yours sloppy… Okay?” Dad asked.

“Can you tell me what I am?” I asked.

“You’re my littlest human. You draw the best dinosaur pictures I’ve ever seen. You and I don’t use the t-word because you’re your own person. Aren’t you?” Dad asked. He gave me that little pep talk whenever I felt responsible for something that happened to Bart. I dressed and followed Dad to the living room, where Owen lay in his pajamas, flipping through channels. I lay beside Owen on the couch, and he draped his arm over me.

“Why would he do that?” Owen mumbled.

I didn’t answer. Owen tightened his hold around me. “What do you feel, kiddo? Is he alright?” Owen asked. He knew I felt things Bart did sometimes.

“Nothing but our heads hurt,” I replied. Owen kissed the top of my head.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” Owen apologized, “That wasn’t funny. You didn’t deserve that.”

Owen wasn’t a bully by any means. He loved Bart and me. So, I knew he didn’t mean any harm when he scared me earlier. “It’s okay,” I whispered.

“My dad’s gonna come watch us tonight after dinner. Your dad’s going to the hospital to check on Bart,” Owen whispered. Owen must’ve been torn up about the car accident because he was always excited to see Digger. Digger wasn’t the most responsible grown-up I ever met, but he loved Owen more than anything.

Owen tightened his grip on me so much it almost hurt, and he sat up, still holding me. “Don! Don!” Owen yelled. Dad ran into the room in his apron with latex gloves on.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” Dad asked, half out of breath.

I felt water hit the top of my head. “Where are Bart’s rain boots? He had rain boots on, and they came off when-. They came off. Did somebody get his boots?” Owen asked as he started to cry.

Dad frowned and crouched in front of Owen and me. “Hey, the EMTs got his boots and put them in a plastic bag. I know it looked scary, but Bart’s gonna be okay-.”

“I should’ve paid more-.”

“You’re a wonderful brother, and I love you so much,” Don whispered, “You care so much… And I’m so grateful that you’re the oldest.” He messed up Owen’s hair.

[sensitiveheartless]

One Summer Day

[zephyrchama]

"You're always coming to wake me up, so tomorrow I'll wake you up. How's that?"

Such was the oath that Belphegor made yesterday evening. He had clung to your arm, pleading at you with expectant purple eyes that were constantly in your peripheral vision until you accepted. He was rarely this sincere. The youngest brother wanted you to rely on him the same way you rely on his older siblings.

That is why Belphegor managed to crawl out of bed on his own in the morning and stumble down the hallway to your room. He walked into a few stray tables and knocked over a decorative vase but managed to arrive relatively unscathed. He leaned against your door while turning the handle, allowing his weight to push it open. The sight of you fast asleep in the dimly lit bedroom made his heart flutter.

Step one was to turn on the lights. Belphegor slapped at the wall at random in the general vicinity of the light switch until he got lucky.

Step two was to gently rouse you. He hovered over the bed, noting you could use more pillows. Still, it looked so comfortable.

"Hey, good morning. It's time to get up." Belphegor yawned halfway through his sentence so it came out garbled, lifting a hand to his face to muffle the yawn out of habit, but you didn't react anyway. In a gentle voice, he called your name. Then said it again. Then once more, with a bit more force and a hint of annoyance. You didn't stir.

Were you messing with him? He dropped down to check, settling next to the bed with his arms and chin over the plush comforter. His head lay at eye level, though your eyes were closed. Your torso rose and fell in time with deep, slow breaths. It was hypnotic for the Avatar of Sloth.

"Hey, come on." This was so unfair. Belphegor clenched a fistful of your blankets and tugged them towards himself. They were warm with your body heat. He nestled his face into them.

"Wake up..."

You woke up, albeit three hours later. Somehow you weren't surprised. Belphegor was half on the floor and half in the bed, with a lazy arm draped around you. He was mumbling about needing to wake up while he snoozed.

[dapper-lil-arts]

I'm not the kind of person that's like "Here let me fix the canon" usually but like holy crap gen 5 implied a lot of messed up shit about our hero Twilight Sparkle lmao

[merlinemryspendragon]

What is the primary force that guides us along our paths? Is it our minds, or our hearts?

[a-most-beloved-fool]

There's a fic I've been (slowly) working on that features Kirk being just about the Only person on the ship who can read Spock's expressions, simply because he Likes Spock (not even romantically at first, he just sees Spock and goes, 'friend-shaped <3'.) and therefore pays attention, where he winds up being like. a Spock-interpreter for everyone else. (Captain, is he mad at me?? Captain, are my questions annoying him? Captain, did he like my joke? Captain, I feel like Spock hates me. etc.)

and the reason I bring this up is because I think there's a lot of potential in a Different version of this, where Kirk is still the only one who can read Spock's emotions, but this time, it's because they managed to spontaneously bond like. immediately. and neither of them realize this for a good while, because what are the odds that you're So Compatible with someone that your minds just Instantly glue themselves together? They're astronomical, that's what they are.

Except, a year or three into the mission, Spock discovers the bond. and panics. and blocks it. Of course he does! It's an egregious breach of telepathic etiquette! (Or, it would be, if he'd done it on purpose.) He has No Idea how long it's been there - he assumes it must be new. And, once the bond is blocked, by a Spock who is absolutely swamped with shame that he could let that happen to his own captain and dear friend, Kirk suddenly. cannot read Spock's emotions. And then he panics, because ohmigod i can't read him is he mad at me what did i do does he hate me???? (everyone else on this ship is baffled. they're like 'his face has literally not changed?? what do you mean you can't read him now??)

and eventually, they figure out what happened, and that they love each other, and then restore the bond to its original state and kiss and what not. but they angst about it for a bit first, and possibly have to get their heads slammed together by bones before that happens.