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maguro13-2 · 1 year ago

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Death Vengeance ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Chapter 3 Pt.10 ~

Shinra : Iris...Come back to me, Iris! Why would anyone do this to you!? Oh my beloved Iris!

Homura Akemi (?) : Give up, devil of this new world. Your influence of this stupid universe serves me no purpose for being a hero. It's time that I am putting an end to this influence of yours. You manage to create a world without the despair, the despair that is the key to opening darkness. Your Heroism and Influence will be the death of everything that I did, and I manage to kill everyone and everything that you knew and loved, including the girl that she loves you. Now you'll be getting the despair that you desperate needed. If this new world that you created will spread the influence you caused, then I'll make sure that the heartless mastermind Demon Vibe will show you the true meaning of pain and suffering.

Shinra : [chuckles] That's what you think of, I created a son of my own and named him "Death", and he will be the God of this new world that I created, just foreshadow the plot of how the new world of mine will be looking like this in a long distant future...the future of the Ohkuboverse. And you'll never know that the truth about the Ohkuboverse's existence would eventually go start to finish, the chronological order maybe desperate, but I'm still the hero, and you are a villain that ransacked my life, and killing my beloved Iris, she was the only thing I knew for my family, and now she's dead, dead because of you! I won't forgive you for this! So hear me this.... I decided that I have my plans to give you a sweet taste of justice and revenge once I gathered all Seven lights from Kingdom Hearts, and after I unlock this power to bring hope to the Ohkuboverse, it will be the death for Demon Vibe to taste this power! And there's nothing that you can do single thing about it, you're about to make me go apeshit on your sorry little butt!

Time Eater (as Homura Akemi) : Lucky Devil. You got some set of balls. So how about that it's time that I'm giving you a demonstration to destroy the Ohkuboverse, half of it. I'm going to put you on Execution and you will be the very last of your own. In fact, [Her voice shifts into Time Eater] Don't ever show your face in the Ohkuboverse ever again. It be the day that you will ever draw your last breath.

Shinra : .....

Time Eater (as Homura Akemi) : Well, are you going to say anything? Answer my tone! (Shinra gets up)

Shinra : The New World I created will be the death of you and, you will die for giving me the loss and despair I confess. And you will be the last for this.

[Gun Cocks]

Time Eater (As Homura Akemi) : You first, you twit.

[Shadow SFX : Gun Shot]

"In the real world..2011."

[Emmitsburg - Frederick County, Maryland]

[Moped Running]

Tamaki Kotatsu (at age 13) : So much effort for getting me back into my hometown. But I definitely heard that the incident in Tokyo took place about 6 years ago. Rumors to tell that the mysterious creature made of ink had several attacks were involved of several incidents in Tokyo, America, and the rest of the world. Now I understand how the author of Soul World is making a big deal with this Soul Eater stuff coming into head and I'm the lucky girl that does not to get involved with. [she arrives at her house] well, here I am. Home sweet home.

"This girl living in the American state of Maryland, is named Tamaki Kotatsu. A Japanese-American citizen who lives in a Maryland town near Gettysburg with her roommate and Ex Military Academy graduate Juggernaut, the one from Japan and was mistaken for a supervillain. Abandoned at age 4 and was adopted by nuns and firemen, Tamaki herself never returned to Tokyo and never got to go to a Japanese school. She spent her days and years as a sister at the National Shrine of St Ann Elizabeth Seton, devoting herself to sister training and Sunday services to worship with children and families. But oddly enough on her 13th birthday, she revealed that she caused a silo explosion on a Maryland farm by reawakening...her pyrokinetic powers."

Tamaki Kotatsu : [enters the house] Hey, Juggernaut, I'm back.

Juggernaut : Oh, Tamaki, you're back from the shrine.

Tamaki Kotatsu : Yeah, I just got off from Sunday school, it was a rough time for the students. Plus, I gave bad students a piece of his mind, good old fashion punishment.

Juggernaut : You love punishing bad people, don't ya?

Tamaki Kotatsu : I even have a teaching agree since I learned give glory to God. But right now, I'm finally going to have my dedication to study even more, I've learned history, geography, science, religion, and of course, Fire Safety.

Tamaki Kotatsu : Which you got yourself a deal, since being abandoned at age 4, I've even regret myself and devoted of becoming a sister, it's not like that in many years since half of the Ohkuboverse was destroyed by that time-traveling entity that killed both Shinra and Iris. It was like that thing the Time Eater destroyer half of it, erasing everything in it's path, making to a believe that the Men of Shinra's Influence did not make sense that they would have all the nerves to keep everything in secrecies till Majo Detectives were to able to find the truth that Shinra created the New World in the Ohkuboverse.

Juggernaut : That's kinda messed up, although we did ended up at the same state as we do, I know that your real parents abandoned you and was founded by Nuns and firemen, so they made you this way and became the very someone that you know today. And in 4 years, you and I will able to move back to Japan, to become heroes that fight against fire monsters! Heck, that I was barely even to join the military before joining a fire company or a brigade.

Tamaki Kotatsu : I'll be happy to fill that in, but all of that will be foreshadowed. But what I do know is that satellites confirmed that the involvements of the legacy that Shinra created are drawing more heartlesses in with inter-related crimes! Gotta remember that Shinra Soul World and he is responsible for the creation of Lord Death entity.

Juggernaut : That's wonderful news, I hope nothing will go down bad in Maryland today. Don't know what the big fuzzes is about. [hears a man talking on the radio] Hey, Tamaki. Listen to this!

News Anchor (via radio) : If you ever live outside the country or state, then be on the lookout for Inky Albarn, an evil demon who disguised herself as the renowned Shounen Protagonist of Japanese manga hit series Soul Eater. Who is about to go on a demonic rampage that is responsible for the attacks of Nintendo, and for attempted seccond-degree woman slaughter of Japanese foreign exchange student Tsugumi Harudori. The demon was fleeing the scene destroying the guard robots that was blocking the path.

[Mistery - Seirou Okamoto]

Juggernaut : Oh no! This is bad! Ever since that Heartless Demon Vibe has ransacked Shinra's Old World 1000 years ago, things like this in the real world are starting to go bad. Maka Albarn being a renegading traitor to America?

News Anchor (via radio) : According to eye witness, the suspect is on the lookout for the members of the Kusakabe Family, Asura and Death the Kid. Who were having a connection betweeen two brothers...

Tamaki Kotatsu : Death the Kid? as in "Death Kusakabe Jr"? Isn't that the person that was modeled after Shinra? An image of another hero?

Juggernaut : Could be.

Tamaki Kotatsu : Oh man, this is bad! If the Men of his crappy influence would never hid the truth from us, we would able to make anyone see the truth that this was all Shinra's idea to create Soul World, it's that darn heartless entity that was trying to become a sociopathic genocider and I bet that my Pyrokinesis powers came from it. I believe it was a heartless named Demon Vibe and it's going to be the death of us and this planet as well. Think of someone, the guys of Company 8, everyone I knew, and that Assault person.

Juggernaut : Isn't Assault, the ex-Knight of the Ashen Flame member that is your stalker? [Cartoon SFX : CRASH!]

Tamaki Kotatsu : Oh right. I forgot about my stalker.

Juggernaut : Can't say that how we manage to put our efforts that we may return to Tokyo. What's like that for something that really matters?

Tamaki Kotatsu : 1000 years in the Ohkuboverse, man. 1000 years in the Ohkuboverse.

[DOORBELL RINGING]

Tamaki Kotatsu : Huh? Who could that be on the front door? I bet it's one of the sisters that knows about the 13th Birthday. [walks to the door and opens it] Hello, sister. Sorry to disappoint you, but It's not really my...

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Hello, Tamaki. We meet again after all these years.

Tamaki Kotatsu : No way, it can't be. It's you! [she sees Shinra (the Devil Chaos Chao) in his Dark Chao Walker) Shinra!

Juggernaut : Oh man! Shinra, is that really you after 1000 years in the Ohkuboverse?

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : That's right, you fools! Remember me that I accidentally touched your body? That was a long time ago before I created my man-made son Death and Soul World itself. Back where everything started, let's just say how do we manage to return ourselves with glory and respect to each other. Sounds like a plan for all of us. Don't say I warn ya that my family is in deep sh*t and I'm just sitting my ass in that cute and cuddlesome world they call it Chao.

Tamaki Kotatsu : Woah, sorry. Heh heh, you actually got the wrong girl, I'm not really the same Tamaki person and...

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : Your ID tells you, that you still work for me, Fire Force Company 8, you'd be remembering that after Captain Burns suspended you from your old one! If you really lived in the real world, then it must be your coding for Fire Soldiers that you still have Company 8 IDs. [Scans on Tamaki to reveal her Fire Force ID] So now what we really understand, Tamaki? The author of Soul World lied to get rid of you when he foreshadowed of him being a sexist to you, so don't get the wrong ideas in that head of his. Anyone despises you for being bullied, this is the real reason that I slam on Puritans for speaking heresy, and that's a sin!

Tamaki Kotatsu : How on earth that I worked for Fire Force Company 8 1000 years in the Ohkuboverse?

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : The reason you joined our company 8 that we foreshadowed you, because you've been working with a renegade named Rekka. Who he worked for Company 1 until we realized that he was a complete renegade, a traitor and a charlatan, and now people saying that they want you back...as a friend...and as a hero. Do you believe me?

Tamaki Kotatsu : Yes....Yes I will! Ever since I met you as a rookie, you're still the same Shinra as we all know!

[Advent of Stray Idola - Kenichi Tokoi]

Juggernaut : Yeah! And I'm the same Juggernaut that worked for Fire Force for way too long, after all, you are the creator of Soul World!

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : That's right! And I needed someone for my reunion to bring Fire Force back to Firefighting service, although Fire Force may have been gone for a long time, but right now it has been foreshadowed by the author. We're dealing a major threat for the real world, my grandson. Calling him Kishin was only a coin used by the Demon Kings to set the whole universe up, and I needed someone that can use the power of calmness. If we can use the power of Calmness on my Grandson, we can stop the power that he was abusing. My man-made son had been nothing more than a fool to cover up the truth. So, are you guys with me?

Tamaki Kotatsu : Yeah! You're right, Shinra! Ever since we met as Fire Soldiers and heroes, we used to Battle the fire demons that Demon Vibe controlling, and I revealed that Pyrokinesis from a type of Keyblade magic called Firaga, believing that the Ohkuboverse had some connection with the Kingdom Hearts universe! But if we don't save the real world, the whole planet will be sucked into the darkness as well!

Shinra (Devil Chaos Chao) : That's the spirit, Tamaki! Now then, let's get back to business! Now or never! (fist bumps Tamaki)

Tamaki Kotatsu : Good to have you back, Kusakabe-Kun!

~ Forty-Second Scene : Enter Tamaki Kotatsu ~

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pepperdog131 · 2 years ago

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Chapter 2

Chapter two - The death of yet another school

I swear I don’t mean to destroy ever school I go to, it just kind of… happens. So there I was. Minding my own business checking out yet another school to attend, when this girl kind of caught my eye. Now not in the way you would expect, she wasn’t pretty, or ugly for that matter, she was quite average. I don’t know what exactly it was, but something about her was just suspicious so I followed her after the bell rang. Well, as it turns out those trying to avoid trouble probably shouldn’t pursue suspicious people, because I am now fighting a demon girl who is about to blast me through some wall. *BAM*. All I can see is fire, and as the son of the sea god, it’s not the most comfortable place to be. I do a couple tricks, she does a couple tricks, a couple drinking fountains die, the norm. Anyways by the end of it she has been sent back to the underworld and I’m running towards the outside exit when I hear the faintest voice telling me to wait. I know this voice by now, it’s my dad, Poseidon. I haven’t the faintest idea why he would want me to stay in a band room currently going up in literal flames that is basically about to collapse on top of me. I look up at the ceiling and sigh. “Fine.” I say. I turn back and scramble around. There’s a roped off section, and this might just be a me thing, but if you rope somewhere off I am more likely to want to go there. I run in and see her. A red headed girl lying on the ground. “Crap!” I shout. I pick her up. Her arm falls out of a backpack strap and her backpack’s contents spills out. There are plenty of books and whatnot, but what interests me are the various fidget toys that come tumbling out. I am tempted to take one, for my ADHD, but know I can only hold so many things.

I run out of the band room and see firemen starting to show up. I don’t want me or this girl to get into any trouble, so I run around the building to get away from them, careful not to be seen.

Once we’re about a block away, at a park, and I can barely hold her anymore, I set her down. She lyes there in the grass. It suddenly occurs to me that maybe I should have left her with the firemen so they could treat any burns, though now that I look at her, I don’t actually see any. She looks pretty normal, other than the fact that her clothes are still smoldering. I consider what to do and am ready to just leave her there when I notice her necklace. It has a hammer that seems to be in a blazing fire, almost like something Tyson would use…

“I wonder…”. I suddenly think back to all the fidget toys, and how she hasn’t been burned at all, even though she was lying in a literal fire for who knows how long. She quickly opens her eyes and jolts awake. I jump back. She looks alright, not hurt, but I can’t help but be drawn to her eyes. The iris start orange near the pupil, and turn deep red near the white. This only seems to confirm my suspicions. “Hi, what’s your name?” I ask her. She gives me a very sketched out look and says

“You first.”

“Fair enough. Hi. My name is Percy Jackson and I would like to take you to a camp for people like us.”

“What do you mean people like us? If you’re about to tell me I’m a wizard, you can just go away now.” She says. Then she stands up and starts walking away.

“Wait! I’ll explain if you just come with me.”

“You just expect me to follow some stranger?”

“I’m not a stranger, I told you my name! Besides, what do you have to lose?”

“Oh, I don’t know, my life? Also you only claimed that is your name, you have zero evidence to back it up, and New York is like one of the most crime ridden cities in America!” She shouts at me.

“Well you clearly have some trust issues.” She gives me a look. “Look, have you ever been attacked by a monster?” I ask. Her face turns hard. “Exactly. I can explain all of that.” She rolls her eyes, but starts walking. We start our walk and I explain about halfbloods and camp and how Greek Mythology is true. We are currently in Auburn, New York, so I tell her it’ll take us about two days to get to camp on foot. “Well then. We’re stuck together for a few days. What’s your name? Is your family going to freak when they realize you’re missing?”

“…My name is Cyra, and I don’t have any.”

“Well Cyra, let’s get you home to your family.”

#PJo #Fanfic #Percy #Jackson #PercyJackson

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liquidstar · 5 years ago

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soulmate aus are cute as long as you dont think about the concept too long (and youre not supposed to, theyre really not intended to be more than something saccharine to indulge in and thats good!) but i Cannot Stop Myself from thinking about the ramifications something like this would have on the world. every single person exists solely as an “other half” to another person, almost like they dont really live for themselves and everyone is an inherently incomplete being, that must impact everyone’s self-perception so much and that’s not even to speak of the philosophical implications of it. not to mention... society would have to be ordered differently based on this structure, wouldnt it? i dont mean surface-level stuff like dating apps where you post your soulmark or counselling for people without one, but i mean.... everything! everything would be structured so differently because the concept of a soulmate being real would effect so much of the world. i cant tell you exactly how because im not expert on alternate history theories, but i can still imagine that society would function very differently and be about 100x more hyperfocused on romance than it already is.

this isnt some kind of criticism of soulmate aus! like i said theyre cute and saccharine and youre supposed to take them at face value, but sometimes i just cant stop my thoughts from wondering about how a “real” alternate universe with soulmates would function. and i think its INTERESTING because even though the concept is mostly used to write romance, if used correctly it could also be used to write a dystonian narrative. maybe one that highlights the issues with society's fixation on living a specific pre-determined heteronormative cookie-cutter lifestyle and the way people who dont fit into it are either shunned or forced into a life of misery, as well as a critique on the culture surrounding romance and the implication that youre incomplete without a partner (especially if youre a women, because a man has to complete you while you devote your being to him). just those concepts at their extremes. i dont know! im just sharing random thoughts, because i think the concept could be a lot more than what most people expect from it!

#on some level i did incorporate some of these themes in my own story but really only with iris and not in a romantic sense #more-so in the ''other half'' sense #but iris runs the school so......... i mean why do you think she set it up so students have a specific roommate #its her own views on ''other halves'' and her ''brother'' seeping through #<brother in quotes bc even though theyre written like siblings its more like theyre two halves of a whole like i said lol #anyway thats not really related to the stuff i said on here. its a very loose theme thats just meant to reflect iris' relationship w crocus #and not a super deep critique on anything really #though it is called out #the tags are really just me rambling abt my ocs bc i want to #and i didnt add them as part of the post bc thats not what its abt

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georgiapeach30513 · 3 years ago

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Ma’am you can’t write all those things about Aster and Joshua and not give us the details! Aster and Beck are meant to be, but at least show us more of young Aster and Joshie.

You guys did NOT think I would leave you completely hanging did you?? So let's kinda take a deep dive into Joshie and Azzie's relationship. Other than James, Az and Iris were the first kids that Joshua met. Bear in mind there is nearly a four year age gap between the two. And as sexy as Az is, she's always favored guy friends over girls. Her and Owin didn't become friends until a bit later in life. Her and Joshie were besties from the beginning, and he never put the pressure on her to be more than friends like Carter did. So here was the first tease of them. Joshie is trouble for Azzie.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Please, Joshie

Summary: Joshie is just helping Azzie out

Pairings: Joshua Barnes X Aster Drysdale

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, teasing, a bit of degradation, mentions of ab riding, dry humping, fingering, squirting, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.6K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Aster Drysdale Masterlist

"Azzie!" Joshua shouts outside at the top of the playset before she runs up to him. She sits down beside her friend, while they look at the setting sun. He takes a quick look into the house to see their parents and siblings are still preoccupied with some board game, before he wraps an arm around Aster. "I like you."

Aster gives him a cute little giggle before responding with an, "I like you, too."

He hums looking back out to the sky, "You think you'll get married?"

"No! I don't want babies," she scrunches up her nose and it only makes Joshua laugh at her. "Well, that's what you do when you get married. You knead the dough, and then it bakes in the oven," Joshua turns to look at her oddly. "It's a jumping on the bed thing."

"Right. Your parents 'jump on the bed', but...what if there didn't have to be kids involved, would you get married?"

"Can you do that?"

"I think so," Joshua nods his head. "I don't want kids either," he looks over at Aster when she hums. "You think...I mean, since we both don't want kids, do you think that, maybe, we get married when we're really old?"

"Huh," Aster looks over at Joshua, her eyes squint when she looks at him, "Like when I'm thirty-five? You'll be almost forty. That's really old," Joshua smiles and nods his head. "Do we have to kiss though?"

"Married people kiss, Az. You'll have to kiss me sometimes."

"Yuck. Like, maybe one kiss to seal the marriage."

"I'll take it," he reaches in his pocket and pulls out the most beautiful ring the young Aster has ever seen. A big giant diamond (fake) and her eyes go as large as the tear drop diamond. "What is that?"

"Your engagement ring," he slides the gaudy bauble over her finger and she looks up at him. "There, now, when we're old and almost dead, we'll get married. So you won't have to worry about kissing me too much."

"Just the wedding. Do I have to always wear this?" Joshua shrugs his shoulders. His mom always wears hers, but she also is married. "I just don't want my daddy to know," she leans over to whisper in his ear, "Because he'll be mad."

_____________________________________________________________

Aster walks around frowning in hers and Joshua's apartment. Dumped again, and it was all Joshie's fault. Wearing nothing but some shorts, a cotton bra, and one of his button ups, she plops down on the couch, and picks up her phone calling him. "Where are you?" he releases a long puff of air, before she groans, "Did you just have sex? Why are you panting?"

"Aster, some of us don't have these perfect little asses, and we go to the gym."

"I go to the gym."

"When? When you were in high school and playing volley ball. You did have a tight ass then. Quit rolling your eyes at me."

"I did not!"

"I heard the eye roll through the phone. What is it that you want?" Aster pouts and moans again, "What did he do this time?"

"It's your fault."

"My fault? What the fuck did I do?"

"You're hot, and people think you're my boyfriend," Aster sits up on the couch when the door opens up quickly, and Joshua slams his phone down on counter.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Move," she sits up long enough before she's falling back on him.

"You're sweaty."

"Gym, sweetheart. So the latest guy, that was just in our apartment last week, broke up with you because I'm hot?" Aster rolls her eyes looking up at Joshua. "I mean, I know I'm hot," she gives him a little punch to the stomach. "Didn't hurt. Why are you dating insecure men?"

"Because sex feels good," Joshua snorts. "What? It does."

"It can feel better," she sits up to look at him and he looks down at her mostly exposed body, cocking up his eyebrow. "I hear you with them, ya slut."

"I have sex with my boyfriends."

"And they suck...well, they're not sucking enough."

"What does that mean?" Joshua throws his head back on the couch, and starts laughing. "Joshie! Joshua Buchanan!" crawling over his body, she goes to straddle him, pulling his head up to look at her. "What does that mean?"

He takes his thumb and skims it over her cheek. Both his hands flowing down her body, until they hold tightly to her hips, and he lurches her forward. She inhales a quick breath, "What is it Azzie?"

"What're you doing?"

"The question is," his thumbs barely rub over her nipples, before he looks down her front, the thin material showing her hardened peaks. "What is your body doing?" he leans forward and ghosts his lips over her neck, ending behind her ear, "I feel your pussy throbbing over my cock."

"Joshie," Aster pants out. "We're friends."

"Friends, take care of each other. You, my friend, are very frustrated."

"It's my personality."

"No," leaning back he looks over her face, "You've never gotten off."

"I've had sex."

"Yeah, I heard. Just because you have sex doesn't mean you get off. You're not a good actor," she attempts to swat him again, but he grabs her wrist faster. "You want me to help."

"I don't wanna have sex with you."

"We don't have to. From just the sound of my voice, I have made this cunt so messy. I feel your warmth. I've turned you on," Aster shakes her head, and looks down at his stomach. "Oh the things you could do to that. I'd let you ride my abs."

"Why?"

"Sweet girl, you don't need penetration to get off. You wanna try," Aster bites at her lip, but still refuses to look at him. "You're really cute when you're embarrassed. I could show you all kinds of things about sex. And if you say we're fucking friends, eh, just look at it as fucking...friends. Friends that fuck. It's easy. You know I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I'd never do anything to hurt you. It's just a bit of fun."

"You promise?" she finally meets his eyes, and he nods.

"An arrangement. I scratch your back, and you scratch mine. If there's a serious relationship, we can stop. But if you're loser boyfriends that don't know how to pleasure you are jealous of me, let's give them a reason."

"Can you show me?"

His hands slide up her belly and under her bra before pulling up the cotton, exposing her breasts. With a sly smirk, he leans forward, kitten licking her nipple, before blowing a cool breath on it. Aster's body shudders, and he moves his hands to her hips to start coaxing her over him. "There ya go. How does that feel?" she doesn't answer, just lets out a satisfied moan. "That good huh? I wanna feel you?"

"What?"

"Az, you got around in high school. Who fingered you first?" Aster tries to think, but is completely mindless, "Carter?"

"No."

"Chase Collins?"

"He just wanted me on my knees, or pounding into me."

He grabs tight to her hips, and grabs her chin, forcing her to look at him, "Who fingered you?"

"Uh..."

"Has anyone's fucking fingers been in your pussy?"

"God, you make this sound so nasty."

"It is. This is pure filth, now answer the damn question. Or can you?" she shakes her head no, and Joshua picks her up to lay her flat on the couch. "Fucking ridiculous. Jealous of me, when they can't even get you off on their fingers. Man, you're gonna see. These stupid boys," he harshly starts removing her shorts and panties, and Aster's hands go to cover herself up. "You're gonna learn. Move your hands."

"Why?"

"Because I want to see that filthy messy cunt, okay? Move your hands," slowly she moves her hands off of her, and Joshua inches her thighs apart. "There ya go," he tilts his head to see her slick dripping down on their couch, "Talk about some pent up frustrations. Azzie, I'm sorry baby, they've neglected you," Joshua's hands slowly slide up her twitching legs, leaving chill bumps in his wake, before he comes into contact with her drenched folds. His own eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

"This sweet girl," he creates slow circles on her clit, "That's a magical little thing. Stimulate this enough, and we're gonna have to get a new couch."

"You're not sticking it in."

"There's more to pleasure than that. A combination. Let's start here," leaning forward, he kisses along her heated and sweaty skin, her voice making much sweeter whimpers than those chumps she brings home. He watches her face, when those fingers slide down her slit, and she grips tight to his biceps. "You're such a mess."

"Joshie..."

"Don't hold back, Azzie," he adds a third finger, and moans at the way her walls flutter around him. Squelching sounds vibrating into the quiet living room. "Quit biting your fucking lip, and just make those pretty sounds."

"I can't."

"You can. And you're gonna or," he starts removing his fingers from her core.

"Don't. Please, Joshie."

Seeing her face almost wrecked, he knows it isn't much longer. Too long has she waited for someone to take care of her, instead of just taking from her, and making her think that they did a good job. Curling his fingers he searches for her special spot, and when she yelps, he starts driving into her. The calloused pads of his fingers hitting it over and over again. Not stopping when Aster tries to bring her thighs together, just constantly shoving his fingers into her. His palm rubbing sinfully over her clit, and when she sobs out his name, and gushes onto the couch is when he slows.

“You okay?” she only nods her head. “Why do you look shocked?”

“What was that?”

He gives her a chaste kiss on her lips, pulling his sticky fingers out of her core. “That sweetheart, was an orgasm. Has no one ever did that for you?” she just shakes her head no. “If you think that was great, you should see what my mouth does.”

Masterlist

#desperate lives #desperate lives au #desperate verse #da au #dau #da au request #joshua barnes #aster drysdale #joshua barnes x aster drysdale #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut

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eideticmemory · 4 years ago

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FINE LINE II | SPENCER REID

Two kids and two decades of history later, you and your ex-husband learn to navigate the world of co-parenting. PART 2! Read Part One.

Word Count: 3,643.

Warning: Daddy Issues, mommy issues, angst, drama, romance. Love to see it.

Spencer’s a deep sleeper; both E and Em get it from him. But the one thing that all three of them are trained to wake up to, is your voice.

“Hey!” You snapped at Spencer, landing a harsh blow beside his sleeping frame.

He jolted awake in familiar frenzy, reaching out to grab you, make sure you were safe.

“Hey, hey, it’s me,” you spoke. “Look, I need a favor.”

“A favor?” he muttered.

“Yes,” you nodded. “You wanna be here for a few days? I need some help. Take the kids to school today.”

“Wha—“

“Or let E drive your car, it doesn’t matter, she’s a good driver,” you shrugged. “They need to be there at 8:15 sharp or else the administration has a stick up their ass. They’ll wake themselves up, dress themselves — stylishly — and feed themselves. And, uh, if you make them late, they’ll lose their minds so try to be out of here by 8, okay? Okay. Thank you.”

“Wait, wait, wait, [y/n],” Spencer called, holding your hand in his palm. “Where are you going?” He weakly pat around the mattress, searching for his phone, and when he grabbed the device in his hand, he checked the time. “It’s six in the morning.”

“So?”

“So,” he sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. You subtly averted your eyes to avoid seeing him shirtless, the duvet cover falling to his lap. “You didn’t get home until two in the morning.”

“You spying on me?” You asked.

“No, I just . . . can’t sleep knowing you’re out late at night—“

“Working,” you interjected.

“Working . . . and now you’re up four hours later?” He questioned.

“We could sit here and argue about who has a more messed up work schedule, or you can take the kids to school, just this once, and I’ll pick them up.”

“No, I’ll pick them up, don’t worry about it,” Spencer shrugged. “You go to work, I’ve got it.”

You sighed, “Are you actually staying until Sunday?”

“[y/n]—“

“No, Mr. Unit Chief, how did you get the week off from the BAU? Hm? It — it just doesn’t make sense.”

“So that’s what you wanted to ask me last night . . . why not just say it, [y/n]?”

“Don’t profile me, it’s valid question.”

“Listen,” he squeezed your hand lightly, just enough that the pressure silenced you. “I am off of work until Monday morning. You need me to drop off and pick up the kids? I can do that. Need me to feed them? I can do that, too. I can do it every day this week if you want. If you need to be at work, then go.”

You inhaled deeply, and released it in a sharp breath. “Thanks,” you shrugged. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

The drive to your office was silent. Full of nothing but your thoughts and rambles and quiet scoffs. You missed the kids. Missed being with them in early hours like this, eating breakfast on the go, singing along to the radio. But your mind needed time to rest, to regroup away from Spencer and his sudden appearance.

When you arrived at work, you stumbled in to find an earlier bird than you. “Raven . . .” you mumbled. “I told you to go home, babe.”

“And I told you that this is getting in at 7:30 sharp . . .” she cleared her throat and glanced at you apologetically. “Boss. . .”

You sighed and shrugged, “Do you need help?”

“Nope,” she shook her head. “I’m right on schedule.”

You chuckled, full of pride, “Good.” You wandered over to your private office and secluded yourself behind the glass doors. Taking a seat at your desk, you plopped down with a tired huff. You rested your head on your folded arms, and just as you began to snore, your phone rang in your ear. You jumped up in a daze, groaning out at the device in frustration. When you picked it up, however, and saw who was calling, you gasped, whined, fell back childishly in your chair.

You sighed, answering the facetime, “Hi, Penelope.”

“Don’t ‘hi, Penelope” me,” she replied, her phone showing her dressed and sipping on a cup of tea. “I had to find out from Emily that Spencer is staying the week with you and the kids? How is this possible?”

“Pen—“

“Hold on.”

Suddenly, your screen revealed another person being added to the call. “Pen, why did you add Em— . . . Emily, hi.”

“What the hell is going on? [y/n]? Did you call me?” Emily hollered into her car speaker, focusing on the road ahead of her as she speaks.

“I did not call, Penelope called, I was ambushed,” you explained.

“No, no, you do not have Spencer spending the entire week at your house — for the first time, I might add — and not tell me,” Penelope interjected. “How are you? How are the kids? How did this happen? Are you two talking? Are you—“

“I told Penelope that Spencer requested the week off,” Emily said. “I thought you had already told her.”

“Yeah, Section Chief, how about some warning there? How did Spencer even get so much time off?” You rambled.

“Woah, woah,” Emily crowed. “Don’t shoot the messenger, he had more than enough vacation time saved up. He could’ve taken the entire month off and not lost a dime. There was nothing I could do. Plus, I thought, maybe . . .”

“Maybe. . .what?” You questioned.

“Maybe you and him had talked things out and . . .”

“Oh, my goodness,” Penelope exclaimed. “Are you guys back together?”

“No!” You shout. You sighed, “No . . . Spencer and I are not back together. He just . . . showed up. I called him to talk about E’s birthday party and he . . . well he says he’s staying until Sunday. Which is, perfect. Perfect in theory, if he actually stays. But he’s getting the kids’ hopes up and I hate that.”

“Yeah . . .” Emily snickered. “He’s getting the kids’ hopes up?”

“Emily Prentiss, do not profile me. Not you. I swear . . .”

Emily busted out laughing. “I mean, honey,” Penelope whispered. “I’m profiling you right now.”

“And with that, we must say goodbye,” you hummed happily as you pressed the button to hang up.

It was Wednesday. Wednesday. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. So, five days with the man, at most. Then he goes back to DC, and those beautiful ninety miles are between you two again. Unless you do therapy, which you won’t, because it’s an awful idea and — you don’t want to think about Spencer Reid this much. You can’t. But you check the clock and it’s 7:45 and he needs to get the kids out the door soon. Should you call? You should call. Okay, call. No, text E.

Y: hey girlie!! 🥰 had to leave early this morning, is dad taking you to school?

E: hey mom 🥺 yeah dad’s taking us!! we’re getting breakfast right now from chick-fil-a and he’s letting me drive his car!!

Y: oh wow! don’t hit any cows out there!

E: ha ha ha so funny ur hilarious

Y: love you 💕 💗 ❤️

E: love you ✨✨

Okay. They’re up. They’re happy. That’s good. They’re smiles are going to get you through the week. They always do.

When you get home that afternoon, Spencer and the kids were laughing, playing cards against each other in the kitchen.

“I hope you guys aren’t gambling in here, because that’s more of a living room activity,” you laughed to announce your presence.

“Hey, [y/n],” Spencer greeted you. “Come play!”

“I’m good,” you nodded.

“See? I told you guys she won’t play against me. She never has and never will,” he told the kids. They giggled.

“Oh, please, you say that like I’m scared to play against you,” you snickered.

“Well? Are you?” He asked, a hint of arrogance in his voice.

“Absolutely not,” you set your things down on the counter and joined them at the table. “Continue your game, though, because I would be scared to play against the kids.”

Spencer gave you this look out of the corner of his eye, his iris looking at you under his eyelashes and a light smile on his face.

Maybe these next four days won’t be so bad.

They were more than not so bad. They weren’t bad at all. They were blissful and full of smiles and laughter and fun family dinners every night, and you’d never felt so productive. You cleared two major social work cases at the job, thanks to Spencer’s help with the kids. Friday night, you came home to the backyard fully decorated for tomorrow’s party. Spencer had recieved the chair delivery and set everything up behind the house, surrounded each table with a handful of chairs and the proper decorations sat in the center. You absorbed it all in complete and utter shock. You were prepared to spend all of tonight and tomorrow morning doing this. And Spencer took care of it all.

“What do you think?” Spencer grinned, him and E standing in the center of the backyard proudly. “Took us hours but it’s all set. Now we just need the food and the people.”

E chuckled, “What do ya’ think, mom?”

“I. . .” you whispered. “I think it looks gorgeous. You guys did amazing.”

“Thank you,” she pipped, grinning happily. “I think so, too. Oh, c’mon, dad, let me show you my party dress!”

As they rushed into the house, Spencer pinched onto your shoulder lightly, smirking as he passed you by. Your stomach filled with an unshakable and startling feeling. It had you rocking on your heels trying to process it and breathe through it.

Saturday morning, you woke up at 9 o’clock as planned. E would be up in another hour, so you had plenty of time to sort out the last few details of her party. The guest list was just above 80 people, and you had to make sure you had ordered enough food to feed them all. You had to check in with the caterer, the baker, Spencer.

You knocked on the door heavily, before wandering in, expecting him to be dead asleep. When you walked in and saw the bed empty and well made, you stopped in your tracks.

“What the hell?” You muttered, stomping over to the bed, and snatching up the note on the pillow.

My dearest [y/n]

Gone out to run some birthday errands. Kiss the birthday girl for me.

Spencer

Errands? What errands? Is he serious? You sighed, and pulled your phone from your back pocket. You dialed Spencer’s number and held the phone to your ear, only to be greeted with an immediate voicemail. You furrowed your eyebrows and huffed angrily.

You drafted and sent a text to him, desperately wishing you were more surprised by this:

Be back by 4 please.

No answer.

You carried on the day with one mission: keep things under control and keep E’s mind off of Spencer. You let her stay cornered in her room, bringing her breakfast and an iced coffee, and kissing her on the top of her head.

“I can’t believe 16 years ago today, I was laid up in a hospital bed, screaming my head off, cursing at the nurses, when this tiny, slimy thing just . . . popped out of me.”

“Most people just say happy birthday,” Eden cringed.

“Happy birthday, babe,” you giggled. “You have no idea what you’ve done for me just by existing.”

“That’s more like it,” she nodded happily. “Thank you. Is dad here?”

“Uh, no,” you said quickly, prepared for the question. “He went to take care of some stuff for the party, he’ll be back before the party starts, though. Will Francesca be coming over today?”

“Oh. Okay. Uh, yeah. She’s coming to do my makeup.”

“Awesome,” you smiled, standing up. “Well, birthday girl, you get glitzy and glammy, and get ready for the party of a lifetime.”

“Mom . . . is everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Stop that, don’t worry about anything today, okay? Things are fine.”

“Okay,” she nodded. She trusted you. For 16 years, since the minute she was born, she’s trusted you. “Okay.”

Eden’s godmother was the first to show up. Penelope Garcia live and in the flesh. She barged into the house the moment you opened the door to greet her, and she rushed up the stairs.

“Pen, she is getting ready—“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I understand the importance of a teenage girls appearance, but I haven’t seen either of the kids in so long.”

“It’s been a month, Pen.”

“Way too long . . . Penelope!” She called out for Eden.

E perked her head up in her room, stopping her best friend, Francesca, from doing her eye makeup. “Auntie P?” She murmured and turned to the door.

Penelope opened the bedroom door joyfully, smiling ear to ear when she saw E. “Little Penelope!” She shouted, excitedly clapping her hands.

E hopped up from her seat and ran over to Penelope, practically jumping into her arms.

“Oh, happy birthday, babygirl!” Penelope cooed. “I can’t believe how big you are!”

“Thank you,” E smiled, her face tucked into Penelope’s shoulder.

You watched them, close to tears yourself to see them together. There were 5 people in the room when Eden Penelope Reid was born 16 years old ago. The doctor, 2 nurses, you — of course — and Penelope Garcia. It was the scariest thing you’d ever been through. And at your side, for 10 hours of labor, was Penelope. She held your hand, spoke softly to distract you from the pain, and encouraged you as you went through delivery. When Eden came into the world, it was no question what her middle name would be.

Penelope helped E prepare as you kept the business rolling in. Food, lights, cutlery, plates. You were rushing and running for hours. You barely just had time to shower and get yourself ready, let alone make sure Em put on the outfit you picked out for him. Luckily, Penelope got him dressed and sat with a good book so you could get yourself together.

The clock struck 4 in the afternoon, signaled by an alarm on your phone, and you had just stepped out of the bathroom. You slipped on a floral dress, befitting of a mother on a special day. Hair in place, dress without wrinkles, shoes to match, guests rolling in, and . . . oh yeah, still no Spencer. Countless calls and texts to him went unanswered, and you were running out of excuses to tell the kids.

When your last and final call to him went straight to voicemail, you left a message.

“Spencer, I don’t know where you are, and I want you to know that, right now, I don’t care. It’s a quarter after 4, and people are showing up, and the show must go on, so . . . show up, don’t show up. Keep us on our toes, it doesn’t matter. I hope you’re okay. Bye.”

Dropping you phone on your bed, you gave it one more glance as you left the room.

Music rang throughout the backyard, packed with people by the time it was 5:30. Eden brought the whole BAU together — visited by Penelope, Emily, Matt, Tara, Derek, Hotch, and Luke who brought his and Penny’s baby boy along.

E was in heaven, reunited with some of her closest cousins. It was turning into a good day, without Spencer. But there was a hole caused by his absence that no one could fill. And you know this because you’ve been trying to fill it all of Eden’s life.

While your little girl is quite the social butterfly, sometimes that social battery of hers can wear low. Particularly when she’s overwhelmed by attention, or stress, or her own genius thoughts.

Luckily, she gets that from you, and you two have a tendency to find similar places to hide. She found you sitting on the back patio, hidden in the corner. “Hey, pretty girl!” you smiled. “Having fun?”

“Yeah,” she giggled. “You?”

“Eh, it’s an alright party,” you joked.

“So . . . do you know where dad is?”

You released a long exhale and hesitated for a good, long few seconds. “No.”

She nodded, “Cool. That’s cool.”

“E—“

“Penelope, come here!” Penelope suddenly screamed from the front door.

“Coming!” E called back. “I have to attend to my guests, excuse me.” She giggled, and you smiled at her as she walked away.

You relaxed back against the wall of the house, watching your friends and family rejoice in the backyard. Over the music, you heard the curling sound of a scream. Eden’s scream. And you ran like you’ve never ran in your life.

“Oh, my God,” she cried. “Oh, my God!”

You were confused and a bit scared and very eager to see what had her so overwhelmed. And when you rounded the corner, coming face to face with the front door, you gasped, stopping on your tippy toes like you were knocked in the face by an invisible force.

“Ah! Piccolo genio! Happy birthday!” Rossi said to your daughter as he held her in a tight hug. He pulled away to hold her face in his hands lovingly. “It is incredible to see the person you have become. Goodness! You know who you look just like?” He questioned.

Rossi spun on his heels, facing himself in your direction with open arms. “Her,” he said. “You look just like her.” He stepped towards you slowly, “My goodness, someone would think it was your sweet sixteen we’re celebrating.”

You laughed and shook your head, blinking away the tears of joy in your eyes. “Flattery is not gonna make me forget that a certain someone doesn’t know how to visit more often.”

“Italy to Virginia is a long flight, my dear,” he pulled you into a tight hug. A secure hug. Full of safety and love and memories. “But I will have to make it more.”

You burrowed yourself into his chest, smiling to yourself at the sound of his voice.

“[y/n],” he whispered. “How are you?”

You did nothing but let out a long, long, long sigh.

“We’ll talk,” he nodded.

“Now,” he pulled away from the hug to hold you against his side. “Since I am here, the party may now . . . begin.”

As everyone followed Eden and Rossi through the house, you were left in the entrance with Spencer, who was eyeing you shyly with his hands in his pockets.

“Got caught up at the airport,” he explained.

You gave him the teeniest, tiniest half smile, and let out a faint laugh, “C’mon, Spencer.”

Later that night, when it was just you, Spencer, and the rest of the BAU veterans, he offered to help you clean up. You stood in front of the sink, scrubbing at a dirty pan as music played softly in the background.

“[y/n]?” Spencer whispered to you as he placed leftovers in the fridge. “What’s on your mind?”

You shook your head, and turned briefly to give him a solemn smile, “I never had a sixteenth birthday party,” you told him, returning your attention to the dishes. “Did you?”

He chuckled to himself, “No,” he said. “I had a psychology exam the day of my sixteenth birthday. I took it and then read for the rest of the night.”

“I had a trigonometry exam on my sixteenth birthday,” you shrugged.

“Oh, yeah? How’d you do?” he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes at him, “I did alright . . . then I went back to my charity dorm on MIT’s campus, and had some microwaved pasta.”

Spencer let out a soft sigh, and stepped over to you, “Life of a child prodigy, right?”

“But not for E. Not for Em. All I ever wanted was for them to be extraordinary, and live an ordinary life. High IQ, be damned, it’s what they deserve.” You rambled. After a few minutes of silence, you glanced at Spencer, who was eyeing you sympathetically. “Don’t profile me, Spencer Reid, we’ve talked about this.”

“I’m not profiling you!” He laughed.

“You are,” you said.

“I am not. If anything, you’re profiling me right now.”

“Profiling you profiling me?”

“Exactly—what? No!” he said through constant laughter.

You smirked at him, hiding a smile behind the expression. “I don’t need to profile you, Spencer. I know you.”

“I—“

“I know you.” You enunciated. “I know you.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “You do.”

You knew you had to tear yourself away from those big brown eyes as soon as possible, or risk major emotional turmoil. So, you focused on the dishes as you spoke, “I’ve been thinking . . . maybe therapy . . . wouldn’t be so bad.”

Spencer’s eyes went wide, “Really?”

“Really, it’s about twenty years too late, but . . .” You nodded. “I guess a part of that whole ordinary lives thing for the kids is having parents that actually get along, so . . . I’ll try it.”

“Thank you, [y/n], thank you so much,” he said. “I already made us an appointment here in Charlottesville for next Friday.”

You scoffed. You should’ve been mad, annoyed. But all you could think was: yeah, I definitely married a scorpio.

“Fi—“ you mumbled, in the midst of rolling your eyes when a gust of movement caught your attention. Outside of the kitchen window, to the side of the house, was E. E and some boy. A handsome boy. You couldn’t tell if he looked familiar. Well. Yeah, he kinda did.

“[y/n]?” Spencer called to you, when he suddenly noticed Eden. “Do . . . do you know him? [y/n]?”

You watched as the kid handed E a birthday gift and placed a kiss to her cheek. She blushed softly and looked down. No. No, you didn’t know him. She hadn’t told you about him.

Another part of the whole ordinary life thing. A part that you had completely forgotten about.

Boys.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #mine #fl

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lo-55 · 4 years ago

Text

Playing With Fire Ch. 3

Ignition

@emrysaf

You’ve decided. You’re going to marry Maki.

You’re going to marry her and adopt Sputter and Flare, and you’ll all live happily ever after in the cathedral and-

You’re broken out of your thoughts when Maki smacks you so hard you literally see stars and throws you on the ground.

“... owe.”

If everything else hadn’t cemented the fact that you were really living inside Fire Force, the pain of Maki’s fist and the hard concrete under your cheek sure would have. Holy hell, how was she so strong?

You roll over on your back to look up at her.

“I bet,” you begin, “that you could bench press me if you really wanted to.”

Maki’s cheeks pink and she huffs down at you. “Why aren’t you using your pyrokinesis? Do you think I can’t handle it?”

I have no idea how to do that!

“Nope, Nope! I’m sure you could wipe the floor with me, it’s not that miss!” You said quickly. “I was just in awe of you, sorry,” you salute quickly, and watch pink crawl across Maki’s face.

So cute!!

“H-honestly! At least use your spear!”

You perk up. Spear? The Sun Spear? Is that what you have here? An answer! Finally! An answer!

Maki takes your surprise for something else. “No one told you that they’d sent it over ahead of you? You should really keep better of your gear.”

You dip your head quickly. “Yes, yes. Sorry. Can you show me where it is, please?”

“Sure,” Maki smiles at you, “We’re about done for now, anyhow. Let’s go back inside and wash up. Sister Iris and Shinra should be waiting.”

Maki takes you back into the cathedral, away from the training area on the roof. The cathedral really is pretty run down. The walls could use a good scrubbing, the floor boards either need to be replaced or are missing entirely, and there’s a lot of cracks in the tile and missing corners. The windows are fine, if not dusty, and the stained glass pieces are really beautiful. The whole place smells faintly of burnt wood and gun oil. It’s not bad, but its certainly unfamiliar. Everything is so vivid. The way it smells. The sound of the building settling, and the birds outside, and the voices of your new comrades.

It’s amazing.

Kinda terrifying, but crazy cool too.

After a quick shower for each of you Maki shows you to the weapons room, where a long, thin case is rested against a wall between two racks of guns. Obi’s shield is propped up in one corner, along with a couple of his weird stabbing things that he puts infernals to rest with. You’ve been here two days now, and you’ve seen him use it twice.

You don’t know how, but you know instinctively that that case belongs to you.

You go to it. There’s a strap along the back, like the kind on a violin case. You carefully set it on a table, mindful of the bullets stacked on top of it. With a few clicks you undo the buttons on either end and open up the case. Inside is a long staff, deep red in color and capped at the bottom with copper colored metal that curves into a diamond point. On the opposite end is a thin band of the same metal, that reveals the inside to be hollow.

You pick it up carefully, testing its weight in your hands. It feels natural. Even though you’ve never actually fought with a spear before your body knows where to hold it, and how to spin it around elegantly until you’re facing Maki again. Your body knows how much space you’re taking up, and how not to hit the walls, while your brain geeks out over the fact that you’re actually holding the Sun Lance.

So cool!

Is it conceited to say that you’re super cool? Or that this was hella badass?

You were almost bouncing on your toes you were so excited.

“Wow, I didn’t know you missed your spear this much,” Maki smiled at you. “You look good with it.”

“Aha, you think so? It’s just nice to have it I guess. This has been, I dunno. An adventure already. I’m in a strange place, with strange people, and I’m in an awfully dangerous situation. It’s been an adjustment, ya know?”

You feel like a fool for rambling, but Maki smiles at you kindly.

“I understand. Even though I was raised in a military family, it took me a while to get used to life as a fire soldier too. Don’t worry too much about it, and you know, we’re always here to help. It’s not like you have to go it alone.”

You’re heart warms with her words. “Yeah. Thank you, Maki. You’re really a nice person.”

Once the Sun Lance is safe in its case the two of you leave the armory, and make your way to the dorm rooms.

Since the company is so small, each person gets their own room. In bigger companies you would be in actually dorms, or barracks, but the eighth only has Obi, Hinawa, Maki, Sister Iris, Shinra, and yourself. Arthur will be here soon too, and Tamaki. Your small company will grow soon.

Your own room ended up being at the top of one of the towers on the west side of the cathedral, opposite of the garage. Which meant that last night, when the alarm had gone off, you’d been the last to arrive at the Matchbox. Near the garage are the locker rooms, and the communal showers, although there’s more bathrooms scattered through the base.

In the center of the cathedral is the courtyard where Sister Iris purifies herself, and grows flowers.

It’s really a nice place.

“Thank you,” you say again, and Maki nods to you and leaves you to climb the steps on your own. You shut the door and lock it behind you.

Your room is scant, all things considered. A bunk bed it pushed into each corner, with a desk underneath it. You’ve claimed the one nearest to the window. There’s a wardrobe on the opposite side, and a small, stocky book shelf.

You need to hang up some pictures or get a rug or something. It’s entirely impersonal.

You rest your Sun Lance up against the corner by the window and go to sit at the desk under your bed. You’ve already unpacked your few belongings into the wardrobe and the drawers of the desk, including the diary from ‘Fuyuki’.

Your ‘sister’. The game honestly hadn’t told you a whole lot about her. Just that she disappeared, and what few flashbacks you would have now and again. Like the one you got when you touched your ring and the lighter.

You open it up with careful hands.

Inside the handwriting is familiar, even if the words aren’t. There’s no mistaking your hand writing. It looks like a serial killer in a movie has left a ransom note made out of letters cut out of magazines.

I wonder if there’s cereal in the kitchen.

You always think better when you’re snacking.

To keep your thoughts in order, you scatterbrain.

<3 Fuyuki

The first entry is dated for 193 AC. After the Cataclysm. It’s 198 now, so this was given to MAIN (to you?) five years ago. That would have been right before she graduated the fire academy and joined her company. A year before she disappeared, around 194.

It feels invasive to read the diary of the person whos life you’ve taken over, but you need answers and you don’t have a lot of options here.

I can’t believe Fuyuki gave me a diary! That’s so lame, and super girly. I don’t really want to write in it, but she gave it to me so I guess I should? Even if I am kinda mad at her. She left to go to school years ago and she never comes home! She’s so mean but then she’s nice and its so frustrating! Not fair. Stupid sister.

But i’ll try i guess. There’s not much else to do in the house. None of the other kids really wanna play with me, and the Yagi’s are busy watching the littler kids. And maybe i’ll have kids and their kids will have kids will have kids will have kids and i’ll be their super cool ancestor and they’ll read this for inspiration or something.

Good god, how old were they when they started writing this? Twelve? How old even were you?

Fuck it.

You kept reading. They/you weren’t a regular writer, with long months going between entries. Some of them were sad, some of them were happy, most of them were angry. They had a lot of complicated feelings on the sister who had abandoned them to what was basically a group home outside Asakusa, and then bitterness at themselves for being so angry when she disappeared. But most of it wasn’t that useful. It was about grades and teachers, and grief. They got into a lot of fights, and they were something of a scrapper. They were briefly enrolled in martial arts classes, but they had to quit because they were too rough with the other kids. So they were a scrapper, but that wasn’t anything related to fire.

You rubbed your temples and glared at the diary. How did it answer your questions but leave you with more?

Why is this my life now?

So much here didn’t make sense, nonetheleast the fact that you were here to begin with. Well. At least you finally knew what your pyrokinesis was right? Even if using it was nearly impossible, and you couldn’t make sense of everything.

Of course, there were plenty of things in this world that didn’t make sense. Like how sound could turn fire into ice.

Bringing back the dead made more sense than that!

You cross your arms and glare at the diary. So far the only useful bit is the part where you’ve had some decent training. Everything else is just the most vague information about the investigation into her sister’s disappearance. That much you already knew, although you didn’t have time to read everything in it. There were big gaps that you just knew were holding important information!

At a loss, you flipped to the very last written on page, halfway through, and froze.

Staring back at you was your own face. A small picture. It was your resume for the squad assignments, with your own check boxes and preferences listed. Underneath it was the list you had written before, of Everything You Knew. It was short, with little screen caps here and there. You flipped the page and found it filling itself in with ink that didn’t come from a pen, finishing up what it started on the page before.

A new page started, this one listed your stats.

In game there were a hundred levels. You had gotten maybe halfway through? A third if you rounded down. And it listed your level at 40. Underneath had your attack power, defense, stamina, agility, and your special moves.

You were weirdly well rounded. Three out of five bars for everything, except the SM, which only had one.

But, you hadn’t put that there!

You quickly flipped it back and forth before you went to the very, very last page in the diary. On the back cover the ink finally finished filling out. A progress bar.

You stared at it for a long, long time, trying to work over everything was happening.

So.

Now you knew what you could do. Just not how to do it.

You were out of options at this point. You were just going to have to suck it up.

You were going to have to ask someone for help directly.

Shinra looks up from his work when you plop into the seat across from him, your arms crossed across your chest. It would be a lie to say you’re not nervous. You’re not even totally sure how you’re supposed to ask these questions, but you don’t have any other way to go about this any more.

You tried the diary. You’ve spent two and a half days trying to get your ignition ability to work without help. Admittedly, you hadn’t even know how your ability was meant to manifest at the time, but even now you can’t get it to work.

“Oh, hey there,” Shinra offers you an awkward smile. You grin right back, trying to project as much happy-go-lucky-nothing-wrong-here-!- as you can. It’s made easier by the fact that prior to a few days ago, no one here had known you as anything more than a passing acquaintance.

“Hi Shinra. I’ve got a weird question for you,” you announce bluntly.

Shinra looks a little more wary, and he’s starting to smile.

“Oh yeah? What is it?”

“Ah, it’s pretty simple actually. How do you activate your abilities?”

“Huh?”

“How do you-”

“No, I heard you,” he holds up his hand to cup you off. “It’s just a weird question.”

“Hey man, I told you it was gonna be one.”

You stare at each other for a long minute before Shinra huffs and looks towards the ceiling. He might not be the best person to ask. Maybe you should ask Maki, but Shinra makes you feel secure and you trust him more than anyone else just yet.

“How do I activate my abilities? I dunno. I guess for me it’s more like I have to turn it off.”

You tilt your head, listening intently to Shinra.

“When I was a kid… I had a hard time controlling my flames. They started up suddenly, and burned through my shoes and pants. I ended up wearing these extinguisher boots, and shorts, so I wouldn’t destroy everything around me. It took a long time to figure out what was going on, but someone finally explained it to me. For a lot of third generation pyrokinetics, the thing that triggers out ability is the memory of the first time they happened.”

You falter. “But, wait. Didn’t yours activate when-”

“Yeah,” he cuts in, shooting you a grin that’s anything but happy. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“Oh god, Shinra…” That meant that every time he used his powers, he had to remember his mother’s ‘death’ and his brother's disappearance. He had to think of pain and fear and grief, and he used his flames so often-

“It’s okay,” he cuts in. You can’t imagine what kind of face you’re making. “It was painful at first, and it still is, but it’s a good reminder for what I’m fighting for, and why I’m working so hard towards that goal. I will find a way to stop human combustion. I will make sure no one else ever has to grieve the way I did.”

“Shinra,” you say softly. “You really are something.”

Shinra tries to shrug off your words, but his smile is a little more genuine. “I just wanna be a hero.”

“You will be,” you promise him. It’s all you can do not to tell him the truth then and there. His mother is alive, and suffering. His brother is alive, and suffering.

They need help.

But you hold your tongue. You don’t have any way of proving it to him, and there’s already so many things that are different here than they were in the game, or the show. Your presence being one of them.

You let out a breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something so painful.”

Shinra shakes his head. “What made you ask?”

“Honestly?” you rubbed the back of your neck, “I’ve been having trouble using my abilities since we left the academy. I thought maybe if I asked you how you do it, I might be able to figure it out.”

Shinra looks startled. “Really? I guess that explains why you haven’t used them in the last few days. You never really held back when we were training.”

“Sorry to disappoint?” you offer lamely. “I just can’t figure it out.”

“Well… Have you thought about when you first activated your powers?”

“That’s just it,” you say sadly. “I don’t remember when it happened at all. So that’s not really an option for me.”

“Oh.”

You frown, and draw in on yourself. You can’t help it. You have no way to activate the powers you now know you have, and you’re in a bad place to be powerless in general. Not to mention these people are going to expect you to help, and you can’t help, and if you can’t help then-

Shinra’s hands land on your shoulders, startling you. It’s a warm touch, one that sinks into you with comfort and kindness. Shinra looks seriously at you, his red eyes bright and intent.

“Whatever happens, I know you’ll figure it out, and I’ll help you as much as I can. Even if I have to protect you in missions for now. So put your trust in me for now, okay?”

Your heart thumps hard in your chest and heat spreads through your body. It grows hotter and hotter, centering somewhere in your chest and your back.

Light blooms behind you and you barely turn your head to see a flicker of white fire over your shoulders, wings stretching over your back. They’re small, going no further down than you’re elbows and no further up than your jaw, pale and white and glowing.

You recognize the feeling in your chest with a start.

It’s care. Friendship. You want to help them. You want to fight for them and earn and keep their trust. The flickering embers of love bloom into a fire across your shoulders and flutter with undistinguished feather’s.

~ ~

A/N So! Phoenix is my favorite power, but everyone else seemed inclined towards the Sun Lance, so I smashed them both together!

If you’re so inclined, let me know what you think :D

#fire force #fire force x reader #shinra kusakabe #shinra kusakabe x reader #reader insert #enen no shouboutai x reader

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lucy-the-cat · 3 years ago

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Lover's Curse Chapter Twenty Nine - Painted Faces

Iris

I want to study her.

I want to know what about her captivated two Nortan princes. I want to map every inch of her face until I memorize it. I want to know how she has amassed such power, how a red peasant without a scrap has become a political vortex.

That must be why my eyes keep drifting. Why her presence lures my thoughts to wander, tracing the planes of her face, wondering what Maven has seen that I have not. Why I want her laid beside me.

Without much clothes on.

“Irie?” Tiora pokes my shoulder. “Earth to Irie. You went to space again.”

“Could you stop calling me that? I sound five.”

“I know, that’s what makes it great. You get so annoyed.” Tiora dodges my aggressive swipe, chuckling. We’re supposed to be combing through official documents right now, but my sister has never been one to pass up an opportunity for mischief. “Whatcha thinking about?”

We’re not alone. Though she is cloistered in her chambers, her people are not, stationed at various points about the room. I’d never paid them much thought before. They were always there, flitting in the corner of my eye, but I’d never turned to focus on them.

Perhaps that was a mistake.

“Tactical considerations.” Mare said I was a good liar. “Regarding the prisoner.”

“Tactical, huh?” Tiora raises a brow. “Tactical in love, maybe.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Denial, thy name is Iris.” She rubs her hands, cackling. “Oh, how the tables have turned. You tortured me over my crushes, and now I have vengeance to wreck.”

“You’ll do no such thing.”

“Does Mother know?” Tiora smirks. “She doesn’t, does she? I’m gonna have such fun.”

“What’s going on?” Mother pokes her head through the door. “This doesn’t look like filing.”

“I was asking Irie about the Barrow girl. She’d make an interesting painting, wouldn’t she?” For a nymph, Tiora enjoys playing with fire. “Iris agrees; she’s just too shy to admit it.”

“I’m never shy.”

“See what I mean?” Tiora shakes her head. “Too shy to admit how shy she is.”

I brush her aside to hug Mother. “Are you sure I’m the younger sister?”

“Some days? No.” Mother chuckles. “You may set up a portrait once you finish your duties. Until then, let your sister be as shy as she wishes.”

“Speaking of the Barrow girl, what do you plan to do with her? It’d be a waste to keep her chained when she could be of use.” I school my face into neutrality. “She’s far cleverer than you’d think. With time, she’ll understand that cooperating with us is better for her in the long run.”

“Oh.” Mother waves a hand. “Don’t mind that. We have far more important things to worry about.”

This may be harder than I thought. “Any news of the war front?”

Her expression smooths. “Maven Calore has fallen ill. At one of our own hospitals, the rumors say.” She frowns. “A hospital I cannot find.”

“Curious. No letters. No pleas. I’d assumed he’d be begging for her release.” Did I betray Mare for nothing? “Perhaps they are concealing his death.”

Mother laughs. “Wouldn’t that be fortunate. In the meantime, help your sister. You know how she is.”

The next hour is a flurry of papers and whispers, a day’s work compacted in sixty minutes. Tiora performs miracles when she wants something. If only her interests aligned with practicality.

At least Mare will be mad.

“I wasn’t aware I was your monkey.” She twists in her seat, frustrating Tiora at her easel. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“She does. As do I.” I lean against the door. “My sister has always had more ideas than sense.”

“I’m right here.”

“That’s the point.” I pat her head. “For shame, Tiroa.”

“I have none.” She scowls. “Hold still.”

An outline of sharp strokes already sits on the canvas, jagged knife slashes edged in crimson. Thin purple lines web behind it, shimmering with the fog of a coming storm. A dab of dark silver pools where her mouth should be.

Mare curls into a ball. “I’m still now.”

“Wonderful.” Tiora won’t concede defeat. “Sis, reposition her for me.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. Reposition her. I don’t like this pose, and she’s not cooperating with me.” She smirks. “Is that too hard?”

I’m going to wear her skin as a coat. “Very well.” My heart pounds as I clasp Mare’s hand, no longer bony, but still with callouses to match my own. “How would you like her?”

“I can move myself.”

Tiora tuts. “Not like that. You’re blocking out the light. Sis, help me.”

“Sorry about this.” I grimace.

She says nothing. Her eyes churn like lakewater at high tide, silt-hidden weeds dragging you beneath their depths. She hates me. She must. I chained her again, no matter my reasons, and there is no undoing that.

I nudge her jaw, pointing to a spot to the right of Tiora. No longer is her frame withered by silence, having regained curves and muscle in places which snag my eye.

Staring is rude.

“Perfect.” Tiora grins. “Hold that pose for five hours.”

Mare stills. “Excuse me?”

“Portraiture is an art form. And art takes time.” She dips her brush to the palette. “You have nothing better to do.”

I sigh. “Tiora, you’re poking an outlet with a fork.”

“Then let me poke it in peace. I hear electrocution is fun.”

“You’re impossible. Take a photo and leave.”

Tiora blinks, a grin spreading across her face. “Yes. That’s an excellent idea. Wait here.” She breezes past both of us, slamming the door before I can protest. The lock clicks behind her.

She doesn’t return.

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hannahcoursey · 4 years ago

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Jealous Minds Part 2

Author: Hannahc56

Word Count: 3,391

Request: Hi! Can I put in a request for a dean x reader? Dean and the reader are friends with benefits and neither want a relationship because they’re too much pressure for both of them being hunters. But then during a case, YN runs into an old boyfriend and they actually had a great relationship and broke up because he had to move for work and they both got out to catch up and Dean is super jealous because he wants that same type of relationship with her. (Sorry if it’s too much. LOVE YOUR WORK!!!)

PART ONE

A few hours had passed and you found yourself eagerly waiting for Daryn to pull into the gravel parking lot of the motel. You had put on a nice pair of jeans, without blood or holes, and a nice black tank top. You’d popped in a pair of earrings you always had sitting in the bottom of your bag that you never got to wear. With a few quick swipes of mascara, you were as dolled up as you were going to get. It wasn’t much, but you felt alright and put together for once and a small part of yourself wish you could do this more often. It was nice to feel pretty every now and then, but your lifestyle didn’t call for a nice manicure or decent clothes. Loud pounding on the door pulled you out of your thoughts, as you took one more look at yourself in the mirror before running to open it. The smile fell off your lips when the door revealed Dean. His face was hard, it was obvious he was in deep thought. When he looked up and saw you, his expression softened. The two of you stood there while he took every inch of you in. A heat rose to your cheeks and you cleared your throat.

“Can I help you with something?” You asked, leaning your arm on the door. Dean’s eyes shot up to yours and he slightly shook his head.

“I-I just wanted to come and,” he hesitated, licking his lips, “Wish you good luck on your date.” He finished. You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Funny, Dean. See ya.” You turned to shut the door, but his hand sprawled across it.

“No, I mean it,” He nodded, “I know how much you cared about Daryn, I-I hope that it goes alright.” He said, letting his hand fall away from the door. You stared at him, your brows crunched in confusion of what sort of scheme he was playing at. His eyes darted back and forth between yours as your brain searched for words to string together to respond. When you didn’t say anything, his eyes fell to the ground and he nodded slow. “You look nice.” He said, his lips in a tight smile, “Anyways, have fun.” He finished, before turning and walking away, leaving you standing in the doorway. You blinked, trying to process the words that’d just come from his lips. Your heart felt like a cinder block in your chest. You let your hand fall to the door knob and slowly pushed the door shut. You leaned against it, your mind running a million miles a minute. Across the room from you was a dusty mirror, only your reflection stared back at you. Why was your heart pounding in your chest? Why were you even going on this date? Was this even to be considered a date? Before you could answer any of the questions that rattled around in your mind, a loud knock from behind the door you were leaning against shook you out of the deep consciousness you’d fallen into with a jump. Maybe Dean was back - maybe he was going to tell you not to go, that the two of you would spend the rest of the night tangled up in the scratchy motel sheets, whispering throughout the night, stealing kisses on exposed skin. The thought alone had you ready to bolt out of your room to find him. You turned and opened the door, Dean’s name about to fall off your tongue, when your eyes fell on Daryn.

His eyes shimmered when he saw you, a smile lighting up his face. Your expression dropped for a moment, before you forced a smile. He pulled a small bouquet of roses from behind his back and flashed his picture perfect grin at you.

“Daryn, these are beautiful,” You shook your head and accepted the gesture, “You shouldn’t have.” You turned and set them down on the table beside you. He threw a hand up and waved.

“Hey, it’s the least I could do,” He laughed, as you pulled the door shut, locking it behind you. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you as if he was memorizing every detail of your face. Color rose to your cheeks and you looked down. “You ready?” He asked, your eyes floating up to meet his again. You nodded and followed him as he walked over to his car, a new sporty car that surely was meant to be impressive. He walked with you to the passenger side and held open the door for you as you got in. Right as you sat down, you heard someone call your name from down the motel strip. You looked around, scanning for someone underneath the overhead flicking lights of the walkway until your gaze fell on Dean. He waved a hand at Daryn, who hesitantly waved in return.

“Have her back by midnight alright? Trust me, you don’t wanna see what she looks like when the fairy godmother’s spell wears off.” He laughed, throwing a wink in your direction sarcastically before turning towards the motel room door and walking in. Daryn pulled open the driver side door and slide in the low-riding seat. His eyebrows were crunched in confusion as he looked over at you.

“So, do you guys usually share rooms or?” He trailed off, the awkward tension in the air filling the small cabin quickly. You felt embarrassment rise to your face as you shook your head, trying to laugh it off.

“No, no, most definitely not, he just was probably grabbing something from the room, I guess,” You struggled to string together a sentence and rubbed your hands against your thighs nervously. Daryn let out a strangled laugh and started the car without saying anything more. You looked out your window, silently cursing the older Winchester as your heart fluttered at the thought of the things the two of you did behind locked motel room doors.

The ride to the bar was mostly quiet, the sound of the radio filling the spaces where neither of you could manage the right words to say. When you pulled up, Daryn escorted you to a booth in the corner. The place was packed. It was loud, lights strobing every second, making it hard for you to make out where you were walking, and you struggled to imagine how fun it would be to actually get drunk in this type of atmosphere. The bass music of the loud rap made your chest rumble and you found yourself yearning for a biker bar, squeezed between the boys at the bar while classic rock played from a jukebox.

“Y/N? Y/N/N?” Daryn said your name and you shook yourself out of your daydream.

“I-I am so sorry, was I spacing out?” You ran a hand through your hair and took a breath, letting out a light laugh, “Long day, you know how it goes.” You gave him a grin. He nodded and waved down the bartender before turning his attention back to you.

“I was just saying how great you looked tonight,” He said, his tone genuine and inviting. You couldn’t fight the smile that rose to your face thinking of the memories the two of you shared.

“Well thank you Daryn,” You tucked the hair behind your ears and leaned forward on the table, “You don’t look half bad yourself.” You beamed at him. Before he could answer, the bartender stepped up and asked for your orders.

“I’ll take a-” You began, but Daryn reached out and laid his hand on top of yours, effectively stopping you in your tracks.

“I’ll take a beer and the beautiful lady will have a Vodka Cranberry please, extra cranberry.” He told the bartender as she nodded and walked off. A feeling you couldn’t put a name to filled your chest. Was it nostalgia? Or was it disappointment? You flashed him a quick smile. “Not too bad for not seeing you for this long, I still remember your favorite drink.” He laughed, reaching over and grabbing your other hand with his other hand, focusing entirely on you.

“No, I’m impressed, that was pretty good. I gotta tell you though, I’m more of a whiskey bourbon kinda gal these past few years.” You said, trying not to visibly shiver as the thought of a Long Island Iced Tea hangover. His eyes grew wide for a moment before he let out a breath.

“Wow, you?” He shook his head, “Now that surprises me. You could hardly keep it down when we were younger.” He chuckled, bringing back memories of your high school days, sneaking around drinking your parents alcohol.

“Well yeah,” You snorted, “We were drinking rubbing alcohol it seemed like, we had the nastiest stuff.” You felt yourself thinking of all the times you’d use a fake ID to get the cheapest vodka you could find, only for it to taste twice as bad the second time later on in the night.

“Yeah, yeah, that led to some pretty rough nights,” He agreed, squeezing your hands softly, “But also some of the best nights too, you know?” He finished, his voice softening as his expression did. And there it was - that same pang in your chest. The more it happened, the more it began to feel like disappointment seeping through your lungs. He stared at you, his iri’s moving from your E/C eyes to your lips. You nodded and pulled your hands out of his, pretending to scratch the back of your neck. He leaned back in the booth, your mind grasping for things to talk about.

“So, what have you been up to? You were at State College for half the first year then disappeared off the face of the earth, no one knew where you went.” He pried, your heart sinking to the bottom of your chest. God, anything but that question. You cleared your throat and tried to force eye contact, but the topic proved too difficult.

“T-That’s a very fair question,” You let out a laugh that came out more like a sigh, “I-I just needed some time off, I traveled for a while,” You said slowly, which wasn;t necessarily a lie, “And just needed to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.” You finished, trying to tell him as much of the half truth that was possible without getting too much into the nitty-gritty. It was true, technically. You did travel while hunting monsters with the brothers and you did struggle with what you wanted to do for awhile; keep fighting the good fight or take a stab at the apple pie life. He nodded slow, as if he was ingesting what you were telling him and you prayed he wasn’t overanalyzing it too much. The holes in your story would be too large for him not to notice how it didn’t add up. “Anyways,” You scrambled to try to change the subject, “What made you want to become a ranger? I never would have pegged you for the type.” You asked right as the bartender brought over your drinks. He smiled while looking down the neck of his beer, thinking of his answer. Before he had the chance, you phone rang in your pocket. You struggled to get it out of the small compartment of your tight jeans and threw a hand up to him and he nodded. The phone vibrated as Dean’s name flashed across the screen. Throwing your legs off the side of the booth, you made your way outside to answer.

“Dean?” You tried, holding the phone to one ear while you pressed a hand over the other. Mumbles came through the other end that sounded like gibberish. “Dean, I can’t hear you, gimme a second.” You said, hoping he could make out your words better than you could of his. As soon as your reached the parlor doors to the outside, you called his name again through the phone. “Okay, sorry about that, what’s up?” You asked, shoving your hand in your pocket.

“Y/N,” Dean said, his voice raw, causing your heart to plummet, “Something’s wrong, you need to get back here,” He coughed, hardly audible on the other end.

“Dean, talk to me, what’s going on?” You asked, panic rising in your tone.

“J-Just come home,” He wheezed before the line went dead. Your hands shook slightly, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You turned on your heel and ran through the crowd, bumping into people and elbowing your way through them. When you reached Daryn, his soft expression had turned to a look of confusion.

“Daryn, I have to get back, something’s wrong.” You shook your head, trying to settle your hands as Daryn quickly got up from his seat and threw a few bills down next to your untouched drinks. Without making sure he was following, you raced back to the front doors, beelining to his car. When the both of your reached it, you strapped yourself in and he drove off, leaving dust in the rearview. The drive back to the motel felt like it took hours. When you pulled up to the strip, you noticed the Impala still sitting outside and your feet were on the ground before the car was in park. Your heartbeat thumped in your ears, your eyes scanning the surroundings. You noticed your motel room light was on. You turned to Daryn.

“Listen, I really appreciate you taking me out tonight and I-I’m sorry it had to be cut short, but I need to make sure everythings alright.” You rushed through your words while you managed to throw him a smile over your shoulder.

“Y/N, I can stay and make sure- '' He bega, but the thought of what unnatural force could be inflicting pain onto Dean was enough to make you cut his speech off short.

“No, no, I got it under control - I can call you, you still have the same number?” You spoke fast, trying to politely get to your motel room as quickly as possible. Daryn looked at a loss for words. To see him scrambling to try to spend another minute with you made your chest heavy with guilt, but this was Dean at stake. You turned before he could answer and opened the door so quick, you almost hit the wall behind it yourself. You were in fight mode, ready to rip apart whatever was wreaking havoc, ready to patch up Dean if he needed it, a million thoughts going through your head. Taking in the scene in front of you, the breath you had in your lungs slipped from your lips.

The room was dimly lit by dozens of small candles of all different colors and heights. On the table next to you was the beautiful bouquet from Daryn and a simple rose sitting next to it. Dean sat on the edge of the bed, nervously rubbing his hands down his thighs. Your hand fell to your chest as you took a deep breath in.

“Dean,” Your eyes filled with tears that you begged not to slip down your face, “You scared the shit outta me.” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. Dean looked down at his hands.

“I-I know, I didn’t know how else to get you to come back,” He said, his voice low. You couldn’t believe the sight before you and you stood still, taking it all in. “Y/N, I should’ve done this a long time ago, but seeing you with Daryn” He said, shaking his head as he looked up at you, “ I couldn’t take it, watching you leave with him.” He stood up and crossed the small room to you, his hands picking up yours and rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand. “I don’t have the fast car and the big bouquet and all that crap - but the way I feel about you,” He struggled to find the words and you knew that all of the effort he’d already put into this gesture was big for him, “What I can offer you is to always be there for you, to always stitch you up, to make sure you’re not alone when you wake up in the mornings - We don’t have to do this stuff alone Y/N and we’re crazy for thinking we had to.” He shook his head and his warm hand cupped your cheek. “I wanna do this with you, I mean it.” He finished, his eyes anxiously looking into yours, waiting for your response. Even in this lighting, his eyes were bright and lively, his nose peppered with the freckles you’ve loved since you noticed them the day you met him. Bringing your hand up to his other cheek, you pulled him in, your lips colliding together as if it were the first time. His other hand found its way to the side of your head and his fingers tangled in your hair as he pulled you in, passion filling your every movement. You pulled away, a few tears making their way down your flush cheeks.

“I would love to Dean,” You leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his, “I’ve been in love with you since I laid eyes on you.” You smiled, your heart beating loudly at the confessions the two of you were sharing. He leaned back and pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

“God, me too sweetheart.” He mumbled into the kiss, before pulling away and taking in every inch of your face before letting go of your hands and moving to the bed. Out of a small plastic bag, he pulled out a few styrofoam containers. “Got you your favorite,” He spoke as he opened the containers, spreading them around the bed. Two burgers sat in their separate containers with fries, and a few slices of pie in the other. You walked over and sat on the bed with him as he laid the food out and sat next to you.

“Mhhh, bacon cheeseburger.” You took a deep breath in, the aroma of the greasy food filling the room. He rubbed your back, smiling.

“Extra bacon, the usual.” He laughed, still looking at you. You turned to him and kissed him once more, the feeling of his lips against yours making your heart drop to your toes. When you pulled away, his eyes were still shut, savoring every kiss the two of you shared.

“I am so in love with you, I hope you know.” You whispered, still close to his face. He blinked slow and a lazy grin crossed his features.

“I know.” He replied, his sarcasm causing you to throw your head back and let out a laugh.

“Good, I’m glad.” You replied, smacking his shoulder. He took a deep breath and looked at the candles around you.

“Now can I blow these out? It’s starting to smell like a friggin’ hallmark movie in here it’s nauseating.” He grumbled, your laugh filling the room as you shook your head at him.You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as he went around to each of the candles and huffed them out.

You put on the tv and played the first movie that popped up and thought about all of the choices you’ve made in your life that got you to this exact moment. Life with the Winchester boys isn't for everyone. The life you lived was fast and dangerous, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. With Dean’s arms around you, shitty take out food in front of you and a whole life to share with him ahead, you found yourself filled with the sort of peace you didn’t think you’d ever get your hands on.

----

Hope you guys liked it! My requests are always open!

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amethystpath-writes · 4 years ago

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“The Deadly Call”

When I was in 7th or 8th grade, I wrote a terribly horrific story in my writing competition. I did comp again my freshman year of high school and am now considered one of the greatest writers in my state- which is pretty cool! This is a rewritten version of what I wrote at my first competition!

TWs in the tags. Please, please, please heed them before reading!!

******

When I was a small child, about four years old, my mother passed away from an illness that couldn’t be treated, and my father became an alcoholic. Cliché, right? Well, late me make it even more so. My father was always angry; yelling at me for anything that came to mind. I often stayed in my room and listened to music- my favorite way of coping. When I wasn’t in my room, I was usually running down streets asking everyone I saw for pocket change so I could buy food for myself. Da didn’t work, and he didn’t need to since his brother, my uncle, was too kind for his own good.

At fifteen, I moved in with my best friend- if you could call us best friends. We didn’t talk much, but her family was caring and took me in when they heard what my living situation was like. If they knew what I did now, I’m not even sure they would kick me out, but they’d be displeased.

I’m sixteen now, and I gamble most nights. Most of those I gamble with are adult men with tattoos covering every inch. There are a couple of scrawny fellows who got kicked out of their homes for drug addictions and whatnot. Some are pretty women you’d never expect to see in such places. I’m probably the biggest oddball, being a kid and all.

Gambling is a bit dangerous, as you probably already know. The tattooed guys aren’t as scary as most people think. They’re actually pretty sincere for the most part, but every now and then you have one of them who gets pissed off they lost. I barely made it out this one time- one of the guys threw a beer bottle at my head: not nearly as scary as my father though. I made it out alive.

Tonight, I only recognize two people. A woman with black hair a purple streak. She has a pretty piercing in her nose- one of those studded jewels. Guess that’s not really a ring though. The other is one of those scrawny thirty-year olds who got kicked out by their parents. I’ve seen him a few times, usually in the crowded bars where no one pays attention to what’s going on around them. Everyone else is new, though, including the host. He looks a little familiar, but it’s probably just the beard. Lots of men have brown bushy beards.

The basement here is stingier than the others. Most of them have windows at the very top, just above ground level, or there’s otherwise a hole dug outside of the house to allow for a window for ventilation. I’m pretty sure the bearded man made the basement himself though, didn’t think about how much he was killing himself with all the smoke trapped in here. You can hardly see the warm, dim lights through all the smoke.

I have managed to win by some miracle. There’s a chorus of grunts and ‘aw man’s’, but no one objects. Rules were put in place that wouldn’t have even allowed for cheating, so I’ve won fair and square. There have been other times in my gambling career that others have questioned my honest win. There was one time we had a coin flip between myself and the guy who challenged me. I picked tails; he picked heads. I won the coin toss and won the money. It was a big pot, several hundreds of dollars, and when I got back to the house, I didn’t even have a place to put it discreetly.

“Kid, I got another pit going on tomorrow night for winners of the last month.” It’s the bearded man. I glance back at him as I’m headed towards the door, but shrug. Hosts don’t usually hold multiple pits within the same month. It gathers too much attention. If I had realized he already held one, I wouldn’t have come today.

“Nah, it’s alright. I should be heading back home. It’s getting cold out and it’s a long walk.” I go for the door again, but Beardy speaks up again.

“You sure? There’s a lot in the pot. You’re looking at several thousand in a night. If it’s the roster you’re worried about, I got it downstairs. You can come with me to look.”

Several thousand? That amount of money…I could pay my friend’s family back for all that they’ve done for me. Maybe I could even put my dad into rehabilitation, ween him away from the alcohol. It’s not too late for that, right?

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll have a look.”

Well the basement hasn’t changed since I left it before. It’s just as smoky- that’s what happens when you don’t have windows in a basement you smoke in. I’ll probably develop lung cancer from being in here, but…but if there’s a chance I can help my father and repay my friend, I have to take it, right? Several thousand dollars is more than any jobless sixteen-year-old can ever hope for.

“Right down here, kid.” The bearded man is several steps below me and disappears to the left of the stairs. The roster is probably in that little storage closet he has on the other side of the room.

I finish walking down the stairs, my foot landing on the stone flo-

My bottom lands on the stairs behind me, my head bouncing off a stair above me. Only thinking of the pain that has erupted in my skull, I sit up with a hand held to my head. There has to be a bruise there already, but before I can check for one, something wraps around both of my ankles and I’m dragged forward, head thunking a second and third time before finally landing on the floor. My eyes flutter open and closed too slowly and I can’t tell what I’m looking at. My vision is blurry. I don’t even know what happened? Where am I again?

The blinks are becoming longer.

I think I’m about to pass out.

My head hurts.

What is that above me?

I don’t think I can keep my eyes opened anymore.

As I open my eyes, I don’t recognize where I’m at. The panic takes a moment to set in as my vision clears. It’s then that I take a large breath, probably the largest as I’ve ever taken.

My feet act on their own- or at least try to, but they’re caught on something. I can’t think. I can’t think. Why can’t I move my feet?

Some amount of sense is finally knocked into me and I look down at a pair of wrapped ankles. I’m in the bearded man’s basement. I’m still in his basement and my legs are tied. And my hands are tied. And there’s something in my mouth and the corners of my lips hurt and my hair is stuck to my face and and and-

“Iris, it is, right?”

My heart is beating too fast. Too fast. I squeeze my eyes shut. If I just close them then it means none of this is real, right? If I close my eyes, then this all becomes a daydream. If I close my eyes-

“I’m going to cut to the chase,” the bearded man says in my head. It’s in my head, right? I’m not in his basement. I’m not- “I have a coin. Now, last time you and I were in the same room with a coin, you walked away with all the money I was supposed to get to save my daughter’s life.”

What? No. No, no, no,no,nononononono. It can’t be him. This can’t be the same guy. But it is. But it is the guy, the one who challenged my win so long ago.

“I already took what you earned last night, but you have a better prize I want. So, it’s going to go like this…”

I jump, eyes flying open as I push myself back, a cold touch on my neck. He’s knelt now, an arm stretched out. So, it’s his hand. It’s his hand on my neck. I don’t like it. I don’t want it there. Please get off. Please get off me. Please get off. Please. Please. Please.

“I’m sticking with my guess from last time; heads. And I’m sticking with that guess”- he laughs and I can feel my hands shaking behind my back- “because what I want from you isn’t money anymore. My daughter is already dead. You killed her when you took that money from me in our first pit together. I want your head for hers. I can’t give you a brain tumour, but I can certainly do you something worse.”

The hand retreats from my neck, but I wish- oh God- I wish it would have stayed. I wish he would have never moved his hand. I wish I wasn’t here. I wish I was with my father. I wish I could hold a picture of my mom.

“I sharpened this while you were passed out. Didn’t mean to do that, by the way.” I can’t stand this. I can’t look. That knife- machete- whatever it is- I can’t…I need to get out. I need to- but I can’t move. I can’t move. I can’t move! “I was just trying to catch you by surprise so I didn’t have to deal with you struggling, but this actually worked out kinda better.”

“Mph!” I can’t talk. I can’t beg him. Can’t beg for my life. Can’t tell him I have a lonely father and a friend and family that care about me. Can’t tell him- can’t tell him anything.

“Right, well, I think it’s time for the toss. Heads, I get yours. Tails, I’ll flip again.” How can he smile at me like this?

How can he- can he- can he…I can’t think. I need out. I need out. Please let me go. Please let me go. I’m sorry. I’m sorry your daughter died. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please let me go.

“Would you look at that.”

He holds the coin up to my eyes and I can’t help the whimper in my throat, can’t help the stronger cries, and the impossibly more shaking hands of mine. I can’t breathe. I can’t. This isn’t happening. This is not happening to me.

“Heads on the first try. Chin up sweetheart, unless you want me to take a couple hacks at your pretty neck.”

I scream.

#alcohol/drug abuse #abusive parent mention #terminal illness mentions #gambling #several death mentions #whump of minor #death of minor #not gore but very brutal threat and implication at end #thriller #my writing #I cannot believe how young I was when I wrote this #It wasn't written as well as this version but just the fact that this is what my brain conjured the prompt is insane #the prompt had been Heads or Tails What do you get if it's your call?#This was it #It was the first prompt of the day and I sucked at the rest of them because it was like 7 in the morning #alright #that's all I've got #enjoy this thriller story that maniac middle schooler me wrote #Also none of this was in correlation to what was going on in my life lol #I just needed to create a troubled character so that they had a reason to gamble at such a young age #whump #whumper #minor whumpee #intimate whumper #creepy whumper

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celosiaa · 4 years ago

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Submission by @entitynumber5: Hi Connor, I hope you’re having a WONDERFUL birthday and that you get to take a break from studying to do the things you enjoy and just have the lovely day you deserve!!! For this morning’s “write what I like” sprint (trying a new method of getting it all out before I have to put the brain into study mode), I wrote a lil something about 🎃 spooky season birthdays 🎃set in the Emmaverse… which turned out kind of long and a bit sappy. So there is no pressure to read it! I just love these characters :’) the working title is “Martin and Jon get proven wrong by an adorable five year old”.

Content warnings: brief mentions of blood, alcohol and minor injury (in relation to Martin working a Halloween paramedic shift); food.

Emma is obsessed with birthdays. Just not her own.

She turned five in May, and no matter how special they tried to make the day—with rainbow layer cake and carefully-selected presents and a visit to the roller-skating rink with her best friends—she didn’t seem half as excited as when it was someone else’s birthday. She would hardly sleep the night before friends’ parties. She spent hours wrapping the presents she picked for them with ribbons and bows and even confetti stuffed inside the paper. The only time they could encourage her to practice the piano for her weekly lessons was when she played the Happy Birthday song over FaceTime for her friends’ birthdays that were during school holidays.

The only thing Emma seems to have held onto from her own birthday is the notebook given to her Georgie and Melanie. Martin seems to remember there being two: one with little cartoon ghost drawn in the front by Georgie and the other with a scribble of the Admiral by Melanie. But Emma only carries the one around with her everywhere, and Martin is starting to doubt his own memory about there being a duplicate.

She has it with her now, as they sit outside the lecture theatre where Jon is currently teaching. In the too-big chair beside the door, her legs swing as she holds the notebook very close, staring intently at its pages while she wriggles her fluffy purple pen in thought.

“Daddy,” Emma says, in that voice that means she has a Very Serious Question, “When is your birthday?”

Martin is still a little dazed from nearly a week of night shifts. It’s the first time in six days that he hasn’t been working or sleeping at this time in the afternoon, and while walking with Emma to Jon’s work to surprise him at the end of the day seemed like a nice idea in practice, he really wishes he was lying on the sofa. They could be watching Peppa Pig for the thousandth time. Or getting started on dinner, which he isn’t going to let Jon make after a long day of teaching. He’s been mentally calculating how many hours it is until he can go to bed, how many tasks he has to do before then.

This feels like a selfish thought, though, and he pushes it aside quickly in favour of smiling at Emma. “My birthday?”

“Yes,” Emma replies, still very grave, “That’s what I said. At school today, Miss Jones made us all put stickers on the big calendar on the wall for our birthdays. I wrote down all of my friends’ birthdays.”

“That’s nice.”

“And now I want to write down yours.”

“Okay, well, my birthday is next month.”

Emma frowns. “Next month. That’s…” she counts on her fingers until she seems to reach the answer she’s looking for. “October?”

“It is!” Martin grins. “Well done.”

Emma’s little frown doesn’t ease. “What day?”

“Well, do you know how many days are in October?”

Emma thinks. Shakes her head.

“There are thirty-one days in October,” Martin tells Emma, “And my birthday is on the very last day.”

Emma nods and returns to her notebook, slowly enunciating the words as she writes them down: “Oc-to-ber three-one.”

Martin wonders if Emma realises his birthday coincides with Halloween. Besides birthdays, she still doesn’t seem too interested in dates, no matter how many times her teacher makes her write them at the top of every page in her workbook. And during previous years, they celebrated Martin’s birthday the day before or after Halloween itself, so they can separate the two events, although perhaps she doesn’t remember.

Before Martin can ask, the door of the lecture theatre opens and students start filing out. Emma puts away her notebook and pen, her frown of concentration replaced by a glowing smile as she waits, bouncing excitedly in the chair, for her Baba to notice them waiting just outside.

“Jon,” Martin whisper-shouts as he tiptoes into the house after his shift, hoping he doesn’t wake Emma—but that his husband knows it’s urgent. “Jon, Jon, Jon.”

Jon emerges from the kitchen, wearing a pair of yellow washing up gloves dripping soap suds and a look of alarm. “What’s wrong?”

Martin ushers him back into the kitchen and shuts the door as quietly as possible, hoping it won’t wake Emma—or, worse yet, the cats, who will sit outside any closed door and cry to be let inside no matter what activity they were engaged in before.

“Martin,” Jon says, “What’s going on?”

“They just released the shifts for the next few weeks,” Martin replies, “And I’m working.”

“Well, good. I should hope so.”

“On my birthday.”

Jon’s expression merges into one of comprehension: Emma. And her newfound obsession with birthdays. “Ah.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t suppose you could swap shifts with someone?” Jon asks.

Martin sits down at the table, lowering his head into his hands. He wants to shower, change out of his paramedic uniform, but he knows he won’t be able to focus on anything else until they’ve had this conversation. “No one’s going to willingly take a Halloween shift. For a start, Andrew is terrified of clowns. And people are usually drunk, and it’s actually really hard to tell the difference between real and fake blood.”

“We could celebrate the day after,” Jon says, taking off the washing up gloves and sitting opposite Martin. He reaches across the table to take Martin’s hand. “I mean, you were born five minutes before midnight. It wouldn’t be a lie so much as a… slight shifting of the truth.”

“Jonathan Sims.” Martin gapes across the table at him. “Are you suggesting we lie to our daughter?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No, Martin,” Jon says again, “I’m simply suggesting we separate your birthday from Halloween, as we have done every year, and not draw attention to the fact because our daughter is currently obsessed with other peoples’ birthdays.”

“And it might upset her if she knew we were actually celebrating on the wrong day.”

“Exactly.”

Martin sighs. “I don’t know. It feels… sort of wrong.”

“Apparently, children under the age of seven have no concept of the passing of time and—”

“Did Tim tell you that?”

“No.”

“Oh, god. It wasn’t Helen, was it? Please tell me you haven’t been having philosophical discussions about parenting with Helen again.”

“Martin,” Jon interrupts, “It was in the parenting book you gave me.”

“Huh. I don’t remember that chapter. Oh, god, maybe I should re-read it. The whole thing. Beginning to end. I—”

“Martin.” Jon squeezes his hand. “You deserve a day of your own. Tim and Sasha already agreed to take Emma trick-or-treating on Halloween. She will be focused on that for most of the day; she’s already talking about how excited she is. Let us spend the day after that treating you to all the wonderful things you deserve on your birthday—and every day.”

Martin manages a small smile, although every instinct inside of him is telling him not to accept Jon’s proposal. Not because he is worried about the ethics of manipulating their daughter’s concept of time—although this is a concern, too—but because he doesn’t want Jon to feel like he has to do any of this. To make a whole day about him, even if he takes great pleasure and care in doing the same for Jon on his birthday.

“Thanks, Jon,” Martin murmurs.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Now, why don’t you go and have a warm shower? I’ve put the hot water on so it shouldn’t run out while you’re in there this time.”

Martin smirks. “Are you saying I smell?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Martin presses, teasing now. “Because I did have to treat a farmer who’d been kicked by one of his cows this evening.”

“Okay, alright, yes. Yes, you smell. Please go and have a shower.”

Martin laughs and gets up from the table. “I’m going, I’m going.”

“That really is disgusting, Martin.”

“It’s actually a pretty funny story. About the farmer, I mean. He’s fine, by the way. I’ll tell you about it when I’m out of the shower.”

Jon shakes his head. “Why today, of all days, have you abandoned the notion of showering before you sit down at the dinner table?”

“I had something important to tell you!”

“Fine. Alright.” Jon shakes his head again. “Now please have a shower. For your sake as much as mine.”

“Love you,” Martin sing-songs as he exits the kitchen. He hears Jon’s gentle laugh chase him into the warmth of the bathroom, where Jon has put on the radiator and left him a fresh towel. He smiles, feeling his love for Jon balloon in his chest, and settles into the sensation being home.

Martin’s Halloween—and birthday—shift is so busy that he barely has time to check his phone. Tim has sent an album of photos of him, Sasha and Emma out trick-or-treating, dressed as Mike, Sulley and Boo from Monsters, Inc. Jon has been updating him on the number of trick-or-treaters who have visited their house (fifty-four, as of ten thirty p.m.), and how Iris and the cats are holding up with the constant ringing of the doorbell.

On his break, Martin quickly texts Tim to watch his glucose levels and not to forget his insulin (to which Tim replies yes, sir with a number of yellow heart emojis). He also texts Sasha to say she can take home any of the Skittles they get on their expedition, since they’re her favourite but Emma hates them. He tells Jon he loves him and to give Iris a pet on his behalf and that there’s some spare sweets under the sink, if they’re running low. Then it’s back to work.

The shift passes quickly, in the end. There is so much to do and no time to think about anything other than their patients. He does get given a toffee apple by someone dressed as a Minion at a student house party, and he narrowly avoids getting his face painted by twins who are the same age as Emma while his team are checking their mother’s twisted ankle after a fall trying to get to the door in time for a last-minute delivery of sweets. It’s not an awful shift, but it is, like always, exhausting and difficult in the same measure as it’s rewarding and hopeful.

By the time he gets home, all he wants to do is sleep. Emma is tucked into bed, fast asleep, while her nightlight projects solar systems onto the ceiling. Jon, too, is sleeping soundly with the cats for company. Iris barely looks up from her bed when he comes inside, but she gives a little wag of her tail each time he passes down the hallway to shower or get a drink of water. There’s a plastic pumpkin full of Emma’s sweets on the table, next to the empty bowl that had once been full of treats to hand out to their visitors.

Martin’s smiles—it looks like a night well-spent for his family—and this thought carries him through an exhausted shower before he crawls into bed next to Jon. Jon must be tired, too, because he doesn’t stir. Martin makes a mental note to check his joints aren’t playing up from all the getting up and down from the sofa during the trick-or-treat visits.

Sometime later, Martin wakes to the soft click of the door as it opens. He squints against the light bursting around the edges of the still-shut curtains, expecting to see Jon tiptoeing to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Instead, Emma is creeping inside, holding a tray of pancakes while Jon follows behind, balancing two cups of tea.

“Happy birthday!” Emma says, as she places the tray down on the bed next to Martin. “We made spooky pancakes!”

Martin rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up fully. He glances at the alarm clock next to the bed: 11:42 a.m. He’s been asleep for just over six hours, but it somehow feels longer and yet not enough. “It’s not—”

Jon clears his throat.

“Oh. Oh, thank you, Emma! These are wonderful.”

The pancakes are, indeed, spooky. Emma has used a pumpkin cookie cutter to shape them and then drawn on funny faces with fruit and syrup. No longer responsible for balancing the tray, Emma looks at Jon, a little uncertain, and Jon nods in encouragement as he places their cups of tea down on the bedside table.

“I made you a present,” Emma says almost shyly.

Martin smiles gently at her. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Emma.”

Emma pulls something off the tray. It’s the second notebook, the one Martin thought he’d imagined, wrapped in a glittery silver ribbon and some confetti streamers. She offers it to Martin, and he takes it carefully, holding it as if it might fall apart in his hands.

“You can open it,” Emma tells him seriously.

Martin unwraps the ribbon. Emma takes it from him, along with the confetti, perhaps to reuse for another present. Slowly, Martin cracks open the notebook to the first page. There is Georgie’s ghoulish sketch, alongside a new inscription in Emma’s handwriting: Sorted Poems By Emma K. Blackwood-Sims. For Daddy’s Birthday. October 31.

Martin feels something tender and soft unfurl in his chest, until he’s certain he is going to cry. He begins to flick through the pages, but Emma says: “Wait!”

Martin stops. “What is it?”

“Look.” Emma climbs on to the bed, elbowing her way into the space next to him, and reaches across Martin to open the notebook on the first page again, where her inscription is. She points at her name.

“It’s meant to say assorted poems,” Jon says, “But neither of us were sure how to spell it.”

Martin laughs, the sound a little wet and shaky with the tears he can feel building. Jon hates spelling. It’s his least favourite type of homework to help Emma with.

“Look,” Emma says again, “I wrote my name like yours!”

Martin smiles. “Blackwood-Sims? But that’s your name, too.”

“No,” Emma insists, “Emma K Blackwood-Sims. Like you! Like a proper poet.”

“Oh,” Martin murmurs, “Oh.”

He’s sure he and Jon will laugh about this later. Martin doesn’t actually have a middle name. Emma does, but it certainly doesn’t begin with K. But right now, he feels tears on his cheeks as he takes in his daughter’s hard work.

Emma reaches for his face, patting away his tears with the palms of her hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise,” Martin replies, sniffling in an attempt to draw back the tears, “I’m happy. And I love you so, so much.”

Emma frowns. “Will pancakes make you feel better?”

“I’m alright, Emma. I promise. These are happy tears.”

“Pancakes always make me feel better,” Jon announces, climbing onto the other side of the bed and sliding back underneath the covers. He settles Emma down in the middle of them, handing her a mug full of juice. She doesn’t drink tea yet, but she doesn’t like to be left out when they do, so she has her own mug.

“These look wonderful,” Martin tells them, arranging the tray so they can all reach. Emma takes a plate and hands it to Jon, then does the same for Martin, before grabbing the final one for herself. “You’re getting very good at pancakes.”

“Baba said we can learn French toast next,” Emma says.

“Wow. That’s big.”

Emma nods. “It’s more difficult than normal toast.”

Martin chuckles. “It certainly is.”

They distribute the pumpkin-shaped pancakes between them. While they eat in bed, they tell each other stories about their Halloween night. Jon talks about the costumes of the people who visited their house, how many compliments they got on their pumpkin carving skills. Emma narrates her trick-or-treating adventure with Tim and Sasha. Martin shares the safest tales of his nightshift, the funny costumes he saw and the extravagant decorations at the parties they visited.

Martin is exhausted again by the time they’ve finished the pancakes. Jon insists on taking their empty plates back to the kitchen and making them another cup of tea, while Emma snuggles against Martin’s side. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“I know it’s not your birthday, Daddy,” Emma whispers.

Half-asleep until now, Martin grunts himself awake. “What was that, sweetheart?”

“I know it’s not really your birthday,” Emma tells him, not moving from where she’s clinging to his arm, “Your birthday was yesterday. On Halloween.”

“Oh, Emma, we—”

“It’s okay,” Emma says, “It’s like when we had a party on Saturday even though my birthday was on Wednesday because I had school.”

“Yeah.” Martin stokes his hand through Emma’s hair. “It is a bit like that.”

“I still get to say happy birthday.”

“You do.”

“But can we have a party on the right day next year?” Emma asks.

“For your birthday?”

“No, for your birthday.”

“Oh.” Martin laughs. “Yes. It might not be a party, if I have to work again, but we can do this. This is lovely. Thank you for being so thoughtful. And I’m excited to read your poems.”

“Baba said they were good.”

“Well, that’s high praise indeed.”

“It was fun.”

“That’s good. That’s what matters most when you make things.“

Emma wriggles around until she’s grinning up at him. “Can I read your poems now?”

Martin sighs, barely supressing a laugh. This isn’t the first time she’s asked. “Emma.”

She sticks her bottom lip out, pouting in a way that breaks Martin’s heart to the point where he can never turn her down when she’s looking at him like this. “Please.”

“Alright,” Martin gives in, “I’ll read you one tonight. Before bed.”

“Yay!” Emma’s grin grows even wider. "Thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank you. And I love you very, very much.”

“Love you, too.”

They settle back down. Martin dozes a little again, a smile on his face, as he thinks about telling Jon later that their daughter very much does understand the concept of time. There really are some things parenting books don’t prepare you for—like the way his love seems to grow with each day he gets with Emma and Jon, even when he thinks it’s impossible, that he already loves them more than any person can.

Some things are gifts even when they are not given as such, and Martin is beginning to allow himself to think of his life with his daughter and his husband as one. He didn’t ask for it with words or lists. He doesn’t know, even now, if he deserves it. But it’s his. And he will treasure it always.

Not featured: Martin realising what he’s agreed to and frantically trying to find a non-angsty poem he can read to his five-year-old daughter. Jon thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #jonmartin #emma #SDSFLSKFLKJFA AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #HANNAH HANNAH I LOVE THIS SOOOO MUCH #I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WROTE THIS OH MY GOD #this is so incredibly special to me I don't even know how to express it #oh my god this is so sweet and I loved every second of it #oh my friend #thank you so much #i love the way you write martin as ALWAYS #and Emma is so sweet here oh my goodness!!!!!#she takes after her dad by caring about other people's birthdays like that #i loved the way you talked about how exhausted he feels after working night shifts #and the lovely little moment where they're talking quietly in the kitchen #martin's musings about not deserving this #and feeling selfish for being so tired on jon's birthday #oh my god i can'ttttttt #i love this so much i'm gonna read it 8000 times #hannah you are fantastically talented #and such an incredibly kind soul #i truly wish we were not an ocean apart!!!#thank you for all the wonderful joy and kindness you bring to the world #you are so very loved #THANK YOU!!!!!!#<3 <3 <3 #submission

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westallenfun · 4 years ago

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A Most Unexpected Love, Chapter 2

WestAllen secret santa gift

From: @jade4813

For: @sophisticatedloserchick

Author Notes: For the lovely @sophisticatedloserchick from @jade4813! Merry Christmas, and I hope you like my first fic after a long hiatus!

Title: A Most Unexpected Love

Rating: PG

Synopsis: Iris has loved Eddie Thawne Allen her entire life. When she returns home just before Christmas, it looks like she might finally have a chance to catch his eye…unless an accident puts his older brother, Barry, directly in her path. Story inspired by Sabrina (with some quotes lifted more or less directly from the source material).

Chapters: 2/7

Chapter Two

Iris squinted at the glare of the sun reflecting off the fallen snow, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of her purse and sliding them on before grabbing the handle of her suitcase and giving it a tug. It had been a long journey, but she was finally home, arriving just in time for the holidays. Her father was supposed to pick her up, but she’d jumped at the opportunity to take an earlier flight than originally scheduled. It would make a tremendous surprise for him, she decided upon landing, and so she walked purposefully toward the taxi station, rather than calling to update him on her change of plans.

The drive didn’t take long, but she still needed to stretch some kinks out of her muscles when she stepped out of the car and fixed the Allen house with a critical eye. It looked almost exactly as it had in her memory, though it appeared someone had affixed the shutters with a new coat of paint at some point in the three years since she’d last stood in this spot. She’d missed this place, she realized, as well as all the people who worked there. Not to mention Eddie. She could never forget how much she’d missed Eddie.

But Eddie wasn’t her primary concern at the moment. She ran a hand down the fabric of her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. She wanted to look her best for her first meeting with her dad. Of course, they’d seen each other numerous times over the last three years. He’d come to visit her at school, and they Facetimed at least once a week. But this was her first time coming home as a college graduate – and an adult woman who had proved herself capable of running her own life. She wanted to make him proud.

Thanking the driver, she passed him a tip before grabbing her bag, pulling it behind her as she approached the house. It was rather heavy, so she pulled it to the side of the house, where it would be out of the way until she could retrieve it later. Then she stepped indoors on a quest to find her father.

Knowing he often stopped by the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, she decided to head in that direction first. On the way, she heard the clattering of balls knocking together in the game room and peered in on her way past, curious to know who was inside. Her heart skipped a beat when she caught her first glimpse of Eddie, his tousled blond hair falling expertly across his forehead as he leaned over to line up his cue stick with the ball. As though sensing her presence in the doorway, he glanced up and straightened abruptly at the sight of her, his eyes growing wide.

“Wow. I mean, hi,” he greeted her with that boyish grin that had captured her heart so many years before.

Feeling a little shy, as she always did in his presence, she threw him a small smile. “I don’t mean to disturb you. I was just looking for someone.”

“Whoever it is, I’m happy to pretend I’m him if it means you stick around,” he reassured her hastily, setting his pool cue aside.

The obviousness of his pickup line, combined with the headiness that his attention was focused on her for a change and the astonishment that he didn’t seem to recognize her, made her laugh. “I’m afraid not,” she said, pulling off her sunglasses so she could get a better look at him. How could he not know her? Granted, it had been a few years, but they’d grown up together, and she didn’t think she’d changed that much.

But still, while she was a little disappointed in his continued ignorance of her identity, she was warmed by the gaze he swept over her body. “Let me guess…you’re looking for Barry. He’s always had all the luck. Well, today is also your lucky day because he happens to be my brother. So I’m pretty much the same thing, right?”

As he teased her, he threw her another one of his devastating grins, prompting her to laugh again. “I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. As tempted as she was to linger and bask in the glow of his flirtation, she couldn’t wait to see her dad, so she took a step back, intending to walk away.

Eddie wasn’t content to let her go, as he bounded after her. Taking position by her side, he walked with her as he chided her gently, “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh? And here I was, hoping we could get to know each other better.”

Iris threw him a wry look out of the corner of her eye. “Really? And here I was, thinking you just liked the chase but you wouldn’t know what to do with me if you caught me.”

“That is categorically untrue!” he protested, feigning offense. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand gently, and Iris thrilled in the warmth of his touch. “But, you know, I won’t be able to prove that to you if you don’t let me catch you.”

“I suppose that’s true,” she conceded, humoring him. Then, succumbing to curiosity, she pressed, “You really don’t recognize me?”

She knew full well that Eddie wasn’t a good enough actor to feign the surprise that crossed his features. “Why? Should I? I can’t imagine we’ve ever met. I’d definitely remember you.”

“You might be surprised,” she returned in a dry tone.

Eddie might have lost the battle, but he wasn’t about to concede the war. Instead, he pressed, “Well, that’s all the more reason for you to give me a chance. I tell you what. We’re having a Christmas party here tonight at eight o’clock. Say you’ll come. We can catch up on old times, just the two of us.”

Chuckling, Iris shook her head. “You don’t give up, do you?” she asked, secretly pleased with his efforts. After all these years, he’d finally noticed her. He was finally chasing after her. Perhaps it was small of her to revel in their altered circumstances, but recognizing that fact did nothing to change it.

“Nope,” he replied with a shameless grin.

Iris nodded. “All right. I’ll see you tonight. Eight o’clock.” His display of elation at her agreement didn’t even come close to that which she secretly felt. She managed to hide her smile until she walked away and turned a corner. Then it was all she could do to bite back her shriek of joy. It was all she’d ever hoped for, catching Eddie’s eye, and the reality was so far better than she’d even imagined.

That night, Iris gave her reflection one more critical look before leaving her room and heading to the party. Her dad had been overjoyed to see her, but his happiness had been diminished slightly when he’d heard about her interaction with Eddie. She knew he was just worried about her; he’d never approved of her attachment to the younger Allen son. Though he loved the family and would give his life for any of them, he’d confessed he didn’t think Eddie was good enough for her, but she’d always dismissed his opinion as being clouded by paternal affection and a life-long overprotective streak.

His concern did nothing to diminish her excitement, and so she’d shrugged it off as she’d dressed into one of her favorite gowns, obtained during her studies abroad. Floor-length and deep red in color, it was strapless, with a chiffon skirt and beaded top with a sweetheart neckline. It was the perfect dress for a holiday party, and – more importantly – she knew it would draw Eddie’s eye.

She was almost skipping with joy as she walked into the party, her eyes sweeping over the crowd looking for one face in particular. But it wasn’t Eddie who caught her eye first; it was Bartholomew. Tall and lanky – and able to wear a tuxedo like he was born into it, even more than his brother (though it seemed traitorous of her to think so) – he’d always stood out from a crowd. She’d recognize him anywhere, even when his back was to her as it was now. She watched as the tall redhead before him said something to him, nodding toward Iris in the doorway. He turned to follow her gaze, his face breaking into a heart-warming smile when he caught sight of Iris.

She watched as he said something to his companion and then raced toward her, stopping barely a foot away. For just a moment, she thought he was going to pull her into a hug, but he didn’t. Instead, he smiled at her warmly and cried, “Iris! You’re home? Why didn’t you come by and say hi? How was your trip?”

Before she could answer, Eddie appeared as though out of nowhere, stepping in front of his brother. “You came!” he said gleefully. “I wasn’t sure you would.” When Bartholomew cleared his throat, Eddie stepped to the side and looked at his brother in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I – wait, do you two know each other?”

Bartholomew looked at his brother in confusion and concern. “You’re kidding, right? It’s Iris.” When Eddie didn’t seem to register the name, he prodded, “West? Joe’s daughter?”

Eddie’s head whipped around in surprise. “What, really? Iris?” As his gaze swept over her again, understanding dawned in his eyes, and he pulled her into a tight hug. “Oh my god, it’s so good to have you back! Now you really have to dance with me. Let’s go.”

He grabbed her hand and started to pull her away, and she was more than happy to follow, but his brother intervened. Clearing his throat, he moved slightly into Eddie’s path and cautioned him, “Is this really a good idea? How is Patty—”

Eddie cut him off. “Barry, I know that you excel at being a stick-in-the-mud, and you’re twenty-five going on eighty. But it’s a party! Surely you can go bore someone else? Iris just got here.” It was the first time in her entire life that she could recall being so taken aback by or disagreed with Eddie’s behavior, and when he grabbed her hand to pull her onto the dance floor, she hung back. Finally, her reluctance seemed to get through to him, because he stopped to ask her what wrong.

“I know he’s your brother, and the two of you…well, you don’t always get along. But that was unfair. He a little serious, but he isn’t a bad guy,” she reprimanded him gently.

He grimaced. “Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.” He gave her another one of his boyish grins, which had gotten him out of trouble over his entire life. “I’ll apologize to him later, too. But for right now, I really do want to dance with you.”

Iris almost protested, but then she was in his arms and he was sweeping her around the dance floor, and it was better than she’d ever dreamed. She felt herself get lost in his eyes, barely noticing when the song changed to something soft and slow and he pulled her closer, tempting her to rest her head on his shoulder.

“You know what I want?” he murmured in her ear. “I want to dance with you.”

“You are dancing with me,” she shot back with a slight laugh.

His grin was unrepentant. “I want to dance with you alone. It’s too public here; we can’t really talk.” Then, as though the idea had just occurred to him, he added, “Hey, there’s something you should see.”

She’d seen him pick up enough women that she knew what he was about to suggest. He was going to suggest that she meet him in his mother’s solarium. He would meet her there with a bottle of champagne and two glasses, and they would dance under the twinkling lights that were undoubtedly strung along the ceiling in observance of the upcoming holiday. While they danced, he would woo her with his words, and then they would kiss. Just because it was a scene she knew had played out dozens of times didn’t means she didn’t want to be a part of it.

“Okay,” she breathed, swaying toward him.

“Meet me in my mom’s solarium?” He paused, grimacing, as he realized that she wasn’t like most of the women he courted in this manner. “Oh, I just realized…you’ve probably already seen my mom’s solarium, huh?”

Afraid this hitch in his plans would cause him to grow skittish, she reassured him, “But I haven’t seen it in years! Will you show it to me?”

“I’d love to.” He danced her closer to the exit and came to a stop, though he didn’t immediately release her. “Head over, and I’ll follow you in a minute. I want to grab a bottle of champagne first.”

“Sure,” she breathed, watching with a wistful smile as he stepped away. The entire stroll to the solarium, she felt like she was walking on air.

#westallen #westallen secret santa #submission

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teatime-scans · 4 years ago

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Wild Police Story - Chapter #11 Text Translations

Hi! Here’s a text translation of Chapter 11. Scanlations of this chapter (and the previous one) are being worked on at the moment! ^^

Be aware that since this hasn’t been proofread yet - this is basically the translation as it came out of our minds - some parts might not be very clear, especially the Nagano Dialect part which is just a partial localization we came up with and will probably be changed in the final version.

Translation: Holmes Translation check: Manaphy

CASE 11. Convening and discussing

[Original Work: Aoyama Gosho Artist: Arai Takahiro]

[His fury, yet unbeknownst to everyone, lies hidden deep inside him.]

[The eagerly-awaited first volume will be on sale from the eighteenth of November on!] [Second chapter of the Morofushi Arc! With their hearts set on their beliefs, this is the story of their youthful days during the half a year spent at the Police Academy!]

[Morofushi's past is going to be related right now...]

Morofushi: Understood! I’ll tell you... Morofushi: About that night from 15 years ago...

Morofushi: Enshrouded in that stench of steel... Morofushi: A night of dismay which made my inner clock’s hands... Morofushi: Freeze in place...

Morofushi: Someone came at around 7 PM when I was having dinner with my father and mother... Morofushi: Together with a loudly rung bell... *ding dong* *ding dong* *ding dong*

Morofushi: The visitor was apparently an acquaintance of my father's. Morofushi: At first, they conversed quietly by the entryway, which I could hear while being in the kitchen...

Morofushi: But before very long, the man started raising his voice... Morofushi: and as soon as my mom went to the entryway to check on them...

*GWAAAAAH* Morofushi: I could hear my father groaning... Morofushi: And so my mother came back with a radically changed facial expression, and told me...

Morofushi: “Stay hidden here for a while!”... Morofushi: “Don't come out at all costs, till I tell you it's okay to!”... That's what she said.

Morofushi: As my mom said that, she put me inside a store cupboard... Morofushi: then, in turn, she went and quarrelled with that man... Morofushi: but soon after I couldn't hear her voice anymore, either...

Morofushi: and, what's more, a stench of steel started hanging over... Morofushi: To the point even I could smell it, despite being inside the cupboard. Hagiwara: What's this “steel” you've been talking about since earlier?

Furuya: He's talking about the smell of blood! Furuya: The haemoglobin contained in the red blood cells is mainly composed of iron. That's why. Hagiwara: I see...

Matsuda: So, what happened later? Hiromitsu: I could hear him humming... Date: What? Humming?!

Hiromitsu: Yeah... It wasn't dad's voice, nor mom's. Hiromitsu: It was a shrill-made coaxing voice... Hiromitsu: He was repeating the same phrase while putting it in rhythm, again and again...

Hiromitsu: T-Therefore... Hiromitsu: I gingerly peeked out of the store cupboard from its opening...

Hiromitsu: And I saw a man holding a bloodstained knife, humming a tune... Hiromitsu: It went like, “it's fine nooow!”... Hiromitsu: “come out, pleeease!”...

Matsuda: What about the face?! Matsuda: Didn't you see that bloke's mug?! Hiromitsu: No, I didn't... Hiromitsu: I was too scared...

Furuya: How come that man was looking for you, though? Hiromitsu: Nah, he wasn't looking for me. Hiromitsu: I know because he called a girl's name after “come out please”.

Hiromitsu: That's right... The girl with whom I used to play when I was a kid's... Hiromitsu: “Yuri”, the name of the little girl looking just like the one who was reported missing last night!

Date: Why was he looking for that kid at your house? Furuya: What was her surname? Hiromitsu: I don't know... I always called her by her name... Hiromitsu: After she died from an illness, I did attend her funeral, but I was just a first-year elementary school pupil...

Hagiwara: You didn't see his face, but you did see the tattoo on his shoulder, didn't you? Hiromitsu: Yeah, I did. That man apparently tripped up because of all the blood, and he banged with his whole body against the armoire I was hidden inside... *BANG*

Hiromitsu: When he moved away, for an instant... Hiromitsu: I saw on his shoulder... Hiromitsu: a tattoo shaped like a goblet!

Matsuda: Did he really have it on his shoulder? Hiromitsu: There’s no doubt! Hiromitsu: After moving away from the cupboard, he clutched his shoulder, as if it hurt...

Hiromitsu: So and at that moment, the tattoo that was visible just before... Hiromitsu: Got hidden by his bloody hand, rendering me unable to catch sight of it...

Date: And? What did he do after that? Hiromitsu: I don't know... Hiromitsu: Before I could notice... I fell asleep.

Hiromitsu: After that, I woke up to the sound of doors and stuff being opened and closed... Hiromitsu: and just when I was squaring off, thinking “shit! I’m gonna get found!”... *clatter rattle clatter*

Hiromitsu: someone opened the cupboard's shutter! *slide*

Hiromitsu: It was my older brother, who had just come home from camp middle school... [Komei: Hiromitsu... Mom and dad are dead... Komei: What happened? Can you tell me?] Hiromitsu: It was noon of the following day already... Meaning I had been sleeping in the cupboard for half a day.

Hagiwara: So you had an older brother...? Hagiwara: I heard that, nowadays, he's a skilful police detective in the Nagano prefectural police, and is called the “Koumei of Nagano”! Matsuda: I like Guan Yu* better, though... Date: Who cares about The Records of the Three Kingdoms right now! [* TN: Both Koumei (Kong Ming in Chinese) and Guan Yu (Japanese name: Kan’u) are Chinese strategists whose feats are narrated in the Records of the Three Kingdoms.]

Date: Go ahead. Did you tell your brother about the murderer's tattoo? Hiromitsu: No, I didn't... I've been slightly amnesiac due to the shock caused by that case... Hiromitsu: and in addition, I've also been suffering from aphasia...

Hiromitsu: Later, we were put in our relatives' care — I was sent to Tokyo kinsmen, and my brother with Nagano's, and I changed scenery... Hiromitsu: Yet, my aphasia didn't heal for a while...

Hiromitsu: until I met Zero in Tokyo! [Furuya: It'd be way greater fun if you talked, y'know?]

Hagiwara: So you attended this place, the police academy because you want to seize the murderer? Hiromitsu: Spot on. Plus, I remembered several things recently... Hiromitsu: And I decided that I want to properly draw conclusions about what that was all about from a policeman's point of view... Hiromitsu: and transmit all that information to my brother in Nagano!

Hagiwara: And in the meantime, you chanced upon three suspicious individuals... Hiromitsu: R-Right...

Hiromitsu: There’s Irie-san, who runs a hardware store... Hiromitsu: and has a goblet tattooed on his shoulder...

Hiromitsu: Then, Tomori-san, who has a laundromat... Hiromitsu: and has on his upper arm a tattoo of Kannon, alias the Guanyin...

Hiromitsu: And the clerk of the motorbike shop who has a scorpion tattooed on the back of his neck... Hiromitsu: If I remember well, he’s called Monobe-san...

Hiromitsu: But it's simply impossible for the murderer to be in Tokyo and not in Nagano... Hiromitsu: and, what's more, for him to coincidentally be in my surroundings... Isn't it? Matsuda: We went and questioned those three people, y'know?

Hiromitsu: Wha...?! Matsuda: Ain't that right? Hagiwara: Bullseye. Date: We all split up... Furuya: Since it's for your revenge, Hiro!

Hiromitsu: Hold on a second, though... How'd you know I'm looking for the murderer who killed my parents, in the first place? Matsuda: Of course we’d know. Matsuda: You were always looking up “Nagano Couple Slaughter Case” on the internet over and over... Hagiwara: Although it is the first time we hear in detail about the tattoo and the murderer's behaviour.

Furuya: Well then, let's start with the squad leader, who was in charge of dealing with Irie-san. Date: He's a silent person, so having him spit something out was a whole pain in the butt...

Date: His name is Irie Sumio. He is forty-six years old and lives along with his wife. Date: He set up a hardware store in this city fourteen years ago. Date: He's a taciturn, unfriendly guy, but he's peerless when it comes to sharpening knives... That's his reputation in the neighbourhood.

Date: His shoulder tattoo is from 10 years ago... He tattooed the championship cup from when he won a ping-pong tournament hosted by the neighbourhood association. Matsuda: Ten years ago...? Date: Yes. I also checked on it with Tomori-san, whom he was paired with back then, so there's no doubt about it.

Date: After that, he told his wife something about horses and flowers, or something... Hiromitsu: You mean... Hiromitsu: He told her to “hose down the flowers”?

Date: Yes! That's it! Hiromitsu: In Nagano dialect, “giving” is often replaced with “hosing”! Hagiwara: Hold up! If that's the case...

Matsuda: But if he got his tattoo done ten years ago, the figures just don't add up, do they? Furuya: Then, Let's move on to Tomori-san, whom Hagi talked to...

Hagiwara: His full name is Tomori Hajime. He is fifty years old and lives alone. Hagiwara: Originally, his laundromat was run by an uncle of his, but he ended up straining himself... Hagiwara: so he planned to help him out till he was dismissed from the hospital, but he ended up continuing even after he passed away... Which brings us here... Apparently.

Hagiwara: He tattooed the Kannon, alias the Guanyin, on his upper arm when, 20 years ago, he lost his wife and mother at the same time in a traffic accident... Hagiwara: He apparently did it in order to mourn the two of them...

Hagiwara: He's also got a reputation in the neighbourhood as a repairman. Hagiwara: Since he came out of some college's engineering department, it seems he used to repair simple electric appliances. Hagiwara: A tad like you, right, Jinpei-chan?

Hagiwara: He paired with Irie-san because he's a friend who comes from his same town... That's what he said. Furuya: If he got his tattoo twenty years ago, he did already have it fifteen years ago... Furuya: but a picture of the Kannon doesn't look like a goblet at all, no matter how you look at it...

Matsuda: Actually, speaking of goblet look-alikes, we have that motorbike shop clerk. Matsuda: His name is Monobe Shuuzou and he is thirty-five years old. Matsuda: He has a scorpion tattooed behind his neck, which is the logo of a group he used to be part of back when he was a rascal...

Matsuda: whose name is, in fact, Scorpion Glass! Hagiwara: So he rather modeled it after a goblet!

Matsuda: He said he got it tattooed when he was twenty, so I guess it kind of could barely fit...? Hagiwara: It's located behind the neck, though... Matsuda: Same as Tomori-san, he also lives alone.

Hagiwara: Huh? What's the matter, you two? Date: I don't know, there was just something... Furuya: Yeah, me too...

Hiromitsu: ... Matsuda: What's with you, Morofushi? Matsuda: You, too?

Hiromitsu: Yeah, well... Recently I phoned my older brother to tell him what I remembered about the case anyway, and... [Komei: Haste makes waste...]

[Komei: Don't be in a hurry to seek success by consulting me without sufficient forethought. Komei: The place you were hidden in was not a store cupboard, but a closet equipped with kannon-biraki, alias double doors opening from the centre. Komei: That house was in Western-style, so it didn't have any Japanese store cupboards or sliding screens in the first place.]

Hiromitsu: That's what he told me. Hiromitsu: I'm sure I was in a cupboard, though... Furuya: Maybe aren't you mixing it up with your relatives' house here in Tokyo you were entrusted to?

Furuya: Since that house was Japanese-styled, and, conversely, only had sliding screens and cupboards... Hiromitsu: T-That could be...

Matsuda: If that were the case... Matsuda: wouldn't it be strange, though?

Matsuda: If you had been hiding in a closet with kannon-biraki double doors... Matsuda: then its door should've got shut when the murderer banged into it after tripping up...

Hagiwara: That's true... And in order to see the killer clutching his shoulder afterwards... Hagiwara: you would've had to open the shutter of the closet by yourself...

Matsuda: You... You opened the door in that situation? Hiromitsu: No way I could! Date: Then couldn't it be that the gap you were peeking out from...

Date: wasn't vertical but horizontal...? Date: The slit in the closet... Date: would allow you to look outside with the shutter closed, wouldn't it?

Onizuka: It's almost four o'clock... Onizuka: Maybe I should go check on those chaps a bit...

*rattle* Onizuka: Huh?

Onizuka: Hey, hey, hey... Onizuka: The dressing room is still dirty as hell?

Onizuka: Hey, you bums! You only have an hour left, y'know? Onizuka: As it is, you'll never make it in... *creak*

Onizuka: Hold on...

Onizuka: They're gone!

[Vertical and horizontal... The five have noticed something. Continued in the next issue.] [Continues in SS #50]

#detective conan #wild police story #hiromitsu morofushi #text translation #kenji hagiwara #jinpei matsuda #rei furuya

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cynthiaandsamus · 3 years ago

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Custom Toonami Block Week 73 Rundown

Code Geass: Lelouch and co. are still stuck in China and Xingke’s flipping out because the Chinese assholes are gonna kill the Empress and go with someone less problematic for their political marriage to Britannia’s creepily overaged prince. However Lelouch pulls out a Knightmare that’s basically the Twink version of the Gawain and busts everyone up as well as pulling a Father Cornello on them and letting the people know they’re all elitst 1% assholes that don’t care about them, which I suspect all countries probably know about their leaders but it sucks to hear it in a recording so riots show up all over China and CC Geass Flashes Anya to take her out so Britannia has to back out because the Chinese Hierarchy are now the least popular people in the world. So Xingke gets to be with his Empress and joins the Black Knights but Dietard wants the Empress to marry someone on their side so they can basically do the asshole move Britannia just tried to do but for them. All the girls are like ‘hey no’ and Lelouch is like “Oh hey Tamaki buddy, let’s go talk and get me the fuck out of here” so before Lelouch actually has to give Tamaki more lines and elevate him beyond the Black Knight’s Yamacha Shirley calls and Lelouch just straight up asks Shirley about love in a weirdly forced series of circumstance. But Shirley’s like “Yeah don’t fuck with love, don’t you love anyone?” and Lelouch is like “Yeah I do, Nunally!” and I don’t think that’s at all what Shirley meant but it does mean Lelouch sees that fighting for something beyond politics is powerful and agrees to not marry off the twelve year old girl, so that’s good. Lelouch decides to return home while they hunt down the Geass cult which is in China for some reason despite that being one of the like two places on earth Britannia doesn’t control and the Geass Cult largely being a Britannian affair. Meanwhile Sayoko is basically a Lelouch Vtuber at this point with her insanely accurate Lupin III mask of Lelouch and kisses Shirley so Shirley’s a little bit more gay than she was before and is not sure how to feel about that. When she’s about to tell the real Lelouch he kisses like a girl, Anya and Gino show up because we’re retreading the whole ‘sleeping with the enemy at school’ thing from the first season except with way less interesting enemies. Also the preview for the next episode is Lelouch dramatically talking about enemies finding out he’s Zero overtop footage of Shirley and Milly absolutely naked in a batthouse scene so I think we know what kind of episode that’ll be.

Inuyasha: The Panther Demon filler concludes with everyone meeting at the site where the Panther Master is being revived behind a strong barrier, if only someone just got a barrier upgrade to their sword, oh wait. But yeah everyone manages to free the hostages so even though Kagome’s jewel shards revives the Panther Master he’s still a zombie without a sacrifice which is weird since Naraku managed to completely revive the Band of Seven with one jewel shard each from skeletons and the Panther Lord has three shards so idk the rules here but yeah he steals the souls of his own men to revive and is Wind Scar Proof because he just is. It’s pretty cool to see him shooting his claws and lightning and shit but he’s too big and slow for it to be much of an interesting fight. Sesshomaru’s about to go full demon which would be interesting since we haven’t seen his full demon form since he lost his arm but in a neat bit of character development, Tenseiga calms his rage and tells him to use it instead. You get the feeling Sesshomaru only goes full demon when he flies off the handle and forgets about speed and strategy so him opting to not repeat the mistake he made against Inuyasha is pretty cool. Anyway Tenseiga heals the souls of the Panther Demons and drains their energy from the lord so he’s back to Zombie Cat Man which Inuyasha can Wind Scar because that’s what happens to villains on this show, all Wind Scars all the time. The Panthers don’t wanna fight anymore since their boss just killed them and tell Inuyasha to tell Sesshomaru the feud is over and they’re going back to the West. Honestly this is basically the same backstory they gave Kirinmaru in Yashahime so it’s funny for them to say they’re going back to the same place Kirinmaru is from, wonder if it’ll ever come up in Yashahime since most filler seems canon there.

Yu Yu Hakusho: Yusuke and Kuwabara continue the assault on Tarukane’s compound and basically plow through the lower demons easy since they’ve been fighting minor deities up to this point. It’s always pretty cool in Shonen to just have a few rounds to show how much power creep the heroes have had where certain things just don’t bother them anymore. Toguro murders a Chimera which has an oddly similar backstory to Nina from FMA and he seems really bummed about it but he’s like “Hey we’re both monsters made by humans telling us to do shit, so sorry for killing you bro”. And Tarukane basically sees Toguro is the next boss and is like “Yup time to scam some people off of this” and he sets up a betting ring for how far Yusuke and Co will get into his compound. This is kinda neat because it puts Tarukane in the weird position of betting against his own guards and hoping Yusuke will make it all the way to Toguro and then lose after everyone else has seen how awesome Yusuke is and bets on him. And funnily enough Sakyo’s in on the betting and he’s watched anime before so he knows to bet on the plucky teenagers with weird powers. So yeah Yusuke and Kuwabara finish plowing through the demons while Hiei kinda stalks them and remembers getting his eye surgery and wanting to help his sister but it’s kind of against spirit world rules for demons to just go plow through humans even if they’re scumbag humans so now Yusuke and Kuwabara have to go fight the Triad of boss demons Toguro has under him before Hiei busts in and just murders everyone for kidnapping his bird-loving jewel-crying little flower of a sister.

Fate Zero: So Kiritsugu can break Kayneth’s Terminator 2 Gaara defenses with rib bullets that just say ‘no’ to using magic and fucks his arrogant ass up. Saber and Lancer do some combo shenanigans to stab Caster right in the book and disrupt all his hentai tentacle demons but the book heals so idk why he can’t just make more. Kirei fucks up Maiya and Iris but didn’t double tap Maiya and DID double tap iris but she’s got Saber’s bullshit healing scabbard on her which no one knows about so Saber’s like “uhhh why are you healing” and Iris can’t tell her so she’s basically “Uhh internet?” Lancer comes in to save Kayneth’s worthless ass and tells Kiritsugu to stop being a dick to Saber because she’s pretty dope. But as usual for an early Fate encounter, no one dies and nothing of terrible consequence happens despite it being teased a couple times. I’ve noticed a trend with Fate that it really doesn’t like killing characters early so you’re basically guaranteed to have the first 2-3 major battles have a zero net gain/loss. Rider in UBW was probably the subversion to that since it happened crazy fast and anticlimactic but even that wasn’t till like ten episodes in.

Konosuba: So we finally meet Wiz the big booby Lich and Kazuma learns a new skill, both fun things. Also the gang gets a house to stay in after escapades with an army of haunted dolls and the most “I need to pee” in a horror setting since Corpse Party. But yeah, good progress this time honestly, the living in a stable gag was getting kind of old so Kazuma’s a bit stronger now and they have a home base so that’s pretty cool. Also Wiz is a Demon General or some shit but no one cares cause there ain’t no money in murdering busty zombie waifus.

Sailor Moon Crystal: So turns out Minako is Princess Serenity, except everyone who knows anything about Sailor Moon or indeed plot structure knows Sailor Moon is Princess Serenity, that’s like the Luke I Am Your Father of this series. But still turns out Minako has been guiding everyone with the power of video games but also thinks the power of friendship sucks and she’s gotta go do everything alone. This makes things super awkward because Mamoru’s pretty sure he was in love with the Princess but likes Usagi, now instead of running with this interesting thread of a reincarnation falling in love with someone new we’re gonna do the reveal that Usagi’s the princess and the whole ‘till death do us part’ part of marriage was just a metaphor and you’re stuck with one person no matter how many times you reincarnate. But yeah, Minako fights the bad guy on top of the tower but he has Naraku’s Barrier now and Minako doesn’t have the Red Tessaiga upgrade yet so she needs the power of friendship but this barrier is friendship-proof and this fight is basically a bunch of kids on the playground making up increasingly stupid powers that negate the other powers the other guy just made up. Anyway Tuxedo Mask shows up and is like “Holy shit Sailor Moon I love when you kiss me and kick ass, go get em sweetie I’ll hold your flower” and they kiss and Usagi has learned that if she just pretends she got this the power of her confidence will beat the bad guy. Unfortunately she does not got this and Tuxedo Mask has to pull a Piccolo and throw himself in front of the blast.

Durarara!!: So now that we’ve had our climax for the arc we have a six month timeskip and everyone’s just kinda living life, Mika and Seiji are being clinically insane together, there’s cops harassing Celty to the point of mental breakdown (normal cop stuff) Shinra’s dad’s in town, Namie’s become Izaya’s secretary for blackmail shit, you know, normal stuff. Also there’s a katana-wielding maniac going around slashing people and Anri’s being bullied and sexually harassed to the point of mental collapse, normal stuff.

#ooc #Toonami #Custom Toonami Block #Code Geass #Inuyasha #Yu Yu Hakusho #Fate Zero #Konosuba #Sailor Moon Crystal #Durarara!!

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backtothestart02 · 3 years ago

Text

Just Best Friends - 7/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Enjoy. :)

...

Chapter 7 -

Iris rolled over the next morning, stretching her arm across the empty bed. She blew out a puff of air and opened her eyes when she realized it was just her in the bed. She groaned and rolled across it, getting tangled in the blanket and bed sheet before she realized she was nearing the edge of the bed and would fall off if she wasn’t careful.

Scooting back to the middle, she moved one pillow with her while pushing the other off the bed, then stretched out her arms and legs so they reached the bottom corners and sides of the bed.

“So,” she spoke aloud to herself. “He’s really gone.”

She curled herself up so she was sitting upright and pulled the blanket and sheet free of her legs. She scooted to the edge of the bed and got up, walking into the kitchen to make herself some coffee.

She really wished he hadn’t left. With the way she’d been feeling – and still felt – towards Barry and her dad, Eddie would’ve been the perfect distraction from all that. Maybe she could’ve even forgot about it entirely. Then Barry wouldn’t have to worry about her spilling his secret at all.

Not that she owed him anything. Not for keeping that secret from her for almost a year.

And what about you?

She decided to ignore the little voice in her head that continuously tried to point out the facts she didn’t want to acknowledge. That she was attracted to Barry, that she might have feelings for him, that she’d broken his heart not for the first time because she refused to acknowledge those two facts.

“And because I’m in a relationship!” she said aloud, wondering why she felt the need to defend herself to herself. It didn’t make sense. She’d already decided who she wanted. She wanted Eddie. He was her boyfriend, and she refused to break the loyalty she had to him.

Except when you cheated…

“Shut up!”

She sighed and braced her hands on the counter, watching the coffee machine work its magic for several minutes until the coffee was ready. Pulling a mug down from the cupboards, she poured some of the hot steamy liquid into the container. She set the pitcher back on its platform before digging in the fridge for the milk. She poured some into her dark beverage and put the gallon back. Then, after mixing the contents with a spoon and depositing the utensil in the sink, she walked over to the couch in the living room and took a seat.

Blowing on her drink, she then set it on the coffee table on a coaster she’d handpicked, and waited for it to cool some. She sank back into the couch and thought about the last time she’d been there.

The night she’d cheated…

No, no. The night Eddie had come home drunk and kicked her out.

And then nicely apologized the next morning.

That’s no excuse!

Neither is yours…

Ugh.

She hated her inner voice. She hated how right it was, so instead she opted for how annoying it was. What did it know anyway? It was a conscience. Maybe. Probably. But it didn’t take into account how she felt through all of this.

She’d been incredibly hurt by Eddie’s dismissal of her. The fact that he came home drunk at all was so shocking she hardly knew how to handle it. She’d tried so hard to make it a good night for him, for them. And it was all thrown out the window when he couldn’t get past the fact that she and Barry were affectionate with each other and that somehow meant that deep down they had more than platonic feelings for each other.

Well, he was right…

Argh. He was not right.

Oh, really? Then how come-

Pushing herself forward to cut off the voice, Iris reached for her mug and downed some coffee, even though it wasn’t quite cool enough to not burn her tongue and throat on the way down.

Right now, she decided, her cheating on Eddie was a non-issue.

Her inner voice snorted.

What mattered now was that Eddie was out of town and Barry and her dad had betrayed her. What was she supposed to do as a distraction? Work? She supposed she could work on mending things with Linda. Though, what was the point? They had never really been friends, and Iris had always been a little intimidated and felt threatened by her because Barry had chosen her to move on with.

She still remembered that first day he had come by CCPN, not to see her at her workplace, but to meet up with Lin-daa to go on a date. She scrunched up her nose in disgust. He’d never come to see her at her job even once, but he came to meet one of her co-workers that she didn’t even know about to go on a date.

She remembered shaking Linda’s hand and smiling brightly, happy to meet her, ecstatic even. Linda was happy, Barry was happy. They were all happy. And the next time she heard about them going out again, this time at Jitters, she’d been happy for him too.

She was so, so happy. She could hardly stand how happy she was. He was finally meeting a wonderful girl who would give him what she couldn’t. A romantic relationship.

And then that night had happened, and it had changed everything. For her, for Barry, for Eddie, for Linda. Barry had been so quick to break up with Linda after it, she realized there’d been no point in her being jealous at all of their relationship.

Ohh, jealous? That inner voice teased.

“Not jealous,” she said aloud, shaking her head.

She blew over her coffee another time, then hesitantly went in for a tiny sip. It was cooler now. Hot but not scalding. The perfect temperature.

There was nothing for it. Mad at Barry for his Flash reveal or not, she couldn’t face Linda at work. Even if she didn’t recognize her existence like before. Between Barry and her dad betraying her, Eddie being gone – mostly because he was mad at her – or hurt? Probably mostly hurt. And because he believed the answer to their couple problems was her making up with Barry. She rolled her eyes at that.

And then there was Linda and their nonexistent relationship. She still hadn’t been able to get a solid conversation out of her, or even a greeting. Linda hadn’t told Eddie of Iris’ little dalliance with Barry yet. That much was obvious. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t though.

Iris nibbled on her bottom lip and stared down into her coffee, setting it back on the coaster before going into her shared bedroom with Eddie and unplugging her now fully charged phone. She practiced her sick voice aloud a few times, the same one she’d used as an example for Barry when he needed to convince her dad he was sick back in elementary and high school.

“Hello?” she croaked as soon as HR came on the line. “My name is Iris West. I’m an employee at CCPN,” she rasped. “And I…” She coughed into the phone and heaved dramatically. “I won’t be able to come in today. I’m sick.”

Yeah, she didn’t want to deal – or not deal – with Linda at work today either.

…

Barry zoomed just to outside CCPN on his work break. Then he straightened his jacket and flattened some of his hair that had blown wild during his running. Glancing at his reflection in the glass door, he decided he looked okay enough. At least he didn’t look like he’d been running at super speed or been blasted by a massive wave of wind.

Joe didn’t know that he was here. He’d left a little earlier than his usual lunch break when he knew Joe was probably still busy with own work at the station or maybe even out at a crime scene that he – Barry – was hopefully not needed for. He knew that they’d decided to not interact with Iris for a few days, give her some space to breathe before making some peace with her, but Barry had decided what was the harm in trying it at least once the very next morning?

After all, her being mad at him was almost worse than her breaking his heart. It kind of was worse because it broke his heart in the process, and he knew she was right to be mad. About this at least. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d tried to convince Joe to just let him tell her. Joe would have none of it though. At least he was seeing the error of his ways now.

Swinging the door open, Barry walked in and immediately saw that Iris wasn’t at her desk. Mason, the Nobel-prize winner that had finally warmed up to her wasn’t at his desk either, which Barry found very suspicious until he spotted the man across the room.

He approached him and cleared his throat loudly.

“Excuse me, sir? Sir?”

Mason finally looked up at him and squinted his eyes where he stood at the copier.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Barry felt fire in his cheeks but forced himself to get past it so he wouldn’t blush too hard in front of this stranger.

“I’m a friend of Iris. Iris West. Do you know if she’s in today?”

Mason made some sort of a grunting sound, then shook his head and pushed past Barry roughly, heading back to his desk with his papers.

“I-” Barry frowned, unsure of how to proceed.

Luckily, Linda had witnessed the entire thing and felt sorry for the poor guy enough to try and get his attention when Mason was gone.

“Hey, Barry. Barry!”

Barry looked in the direction of where his name was being called and sighed in relief.

“Linda!”

He walked over to her quickly.

“What’s with that guy?” He pointed in the direction of Mason with his thumb.

Linda crossed her arms and looked over Barry’s shoulder to where Mason was getting settled at his desk. Then she looked back at Barry.

“Oh, uh…he’s not super friendly to newcomers.” She winced. “Sorry about that. What did you need?”

Barry blew out a puff of air.

“I was looking for Iris. She and I had a little…”

“Oh, another…?” She winked dramatically.

“No, I mean, yes, but…” He sighed. “She found out I’m…” He mouthed the words ‘The Flash’.

Linda’s mouth fell open, and she shut it quickly while nodding slowly.

“Ah,” she said. “I thought she was supposed to…never know about that.”

“She wasn’t,” he ground out.

Her brows furrowed.

“What happened?”

He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it some.

“Apparently,” he lowered his voice, “I didn’t think to change my make-out style from Barry to a certain…scarlet speedster. She put two and two together real fast, and…yeah.”

“Wait a second, let me get this straight.” She held up a hand. “You made out with Iris, as…” she mouthed ‘The Flash’. “After you and I…as in, the same night?”

Barry’s head fell to his chest.

“Not my finest hour, I know. I just can’t…”

“Resist her,” she finished, shaking her head and smiling. “I can see that. Damn, it’s really good we broke up when we did or I’d be going mad with jealousy at this point. Not even sex can keep you from straying.”

He winced. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” she said, giving a short, quick laugh. “If anything, I’m amused.”

“Yeah?”

“Consider us friends, Barry Allen. That’s much better than just exes, isn’t it?”

He nodded reluctantly. “Yeah.”

“Besides you should have someone who knows…” She lowered her voice. “Your secret.” She returned to normal volume. “That isn’t pissed at you about it. After all, we were only dating a few weeks. You had every right to your secrets at that point.”

“And you’ll keep it, right? You’ll keep my secret?”

“Of course,” she said automatically. “I said I would, and I will. You have my word on that.”

He smiled tremulously.

“Thanks, Linda.” He looked back over his shoulder before looking back at her. “So, about Iris?”

“Oh.” She frowned. “I think she called in sick today actually. I thought I overheard that when I passed HR’s office this morning.”

“Oh.” Barry frowned too.

“But if she’s as mad at you as you make it sound like she is, then I probably wouldn’t be bringing soup by her apartment any time soon. A) she’s probably not actually sick, and B) she’s probably still rattled from the recent revelation she discovered.”

Barry sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, she came over to the house last night and gave Joe and I a piece of her mind,” he muttered, still feeling scarred from just how angry Iris had been.

Linda rubbed her hand on Barry’s arm to soothe him and pull him out of his dark thoughts.

“Just give her a few days, Barry. She needs time to process everything before she can even think of forgiving you or even being nice about any type of apology on your end. That’s how it would be for me if I was in her position, at least.”

“Right,” Barry said, mostly to himself, as Joe’s voice loomed in the back of his head. “A few days.”

Linda tilted her head to the side.

“Want to have lunch with me? Might serve as a good distraction from your problems.”

He shook his head.

“No, thanks. I should get back to the station before Joe realizes I’m missing.” He paused before meeting her eyes. “He also suggested waiting a few days before trying to talk to Iris.”

“Ah.” She smiled. “See you later then.”

“See you,” he said quickly, then power-walked to the exit and flashed back to CCPD.

Linda watched and shook her head in wonder.

“That is…something else,” she murmured, then sat back at her desk and pulled out her paper bag lunch.

…

The next day Iris came into work. She came in the day after too. Barry didn’t interact with her that second day at all. He just flashed past CCPN to see if she was at her desk, to make sure she was okay and not genuinely sick. On day 3, he decided three days was the absolute bare minimum of ‘few’ and that he would wait till the end of the workday to surprise her and hope she didn’t blow him off. If she did, he’d probably have to wait a couple more days to see if she’d be more open to talking then. But if she gave him an opening, he wasn’t going to just sit by and not take it. She wasn’t just his best friend. She was the love of his life, and deep down he saw a future for them romantically.

Iris, exhausted after a long day, and having realized there was no danger in Linda surprise-interacting with her, got her things together and headed for the exit. The last thing she expected was Barry standing there in a suit with a huge arrangement of roses in a heart shape on a stand. She couldn’t even get a word in before he interrupted her thought process.

“It’s too much? It’s too much. It’s the heart, right? It’s too cheesy. Alright, hold on.”

And before she could blink, the flowers had been rearranged. Now they formed her name in all caps: IRIS.

“Is that better?”

Still trying to process, all she could do was stare, looking at the masterpiece before her and wondering how to respond to it, especially since she’d decided at the beginning of the day she was still mad at him.

“It’s worse?” His face fell. “We’ll go back to the heart. It’s-”

“No, Barry! Wait, wait. It is so beautiful, and you are so sweet…in theory.”

His frown deepened.

“In theory?”

She sighed and approached him tentatively.

“Did you forget what happened just a few days ago? Already?”

His shoulders slumped.

“I thought that would’ve been enough time.”

Her brows furrowed. “For what?”

“For you to forgive me.”

She took a step back and scoffed.

“You kept a life-altering event from me for months, almost a year, and you thought a few days would be enough for me to just…let that go?”

His mouth fell open but nothing came out.

Iris rolled her eyes and started to walk away. Luckily, Barry snapped out of it and immediately pursued her.

“Wait, wait, Iris, hold on!”

“And what’s with the suit?” she demanded. “It’s not like we’re going on a date.”

“No, I know that. I just…I wanted to look my best.”

“For what?”

“For you, obviously.”

She stopped and turned to look at him.

“And I think flowers look best with a suit accompanying them. I mean…right?”

She sighed, ignoring the tug on her heartstrings from how hopeful he looked.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking,” she began. “How can I possibly be mad at you for keeping a big secret when I’m keeping an equally huge one from Eddie?”

His voice squeaked a little. “Well.”

He hadn’t wanted to say it, but…yeah.

“We’ve been friends for over 15 years, Barry. We tell each other everything. Or we’re supposed to. I may have had a few days to let things sink in, but that doesn’t mean I can forgive you for it. It’s too huge.”

He took a step towards her.

“Okay, if you don’t want to talk about that, can we at least address the elephant in the room? You’ve been avoiding it since it happened, and I don’t think it’s fair. With Eddie gone, I mean…”

“Eddie did not break up with me,” she said. “He’s just out of town. That doesn’t give me permission to just…pick up where I left off with you.”

“No, I know that,” he was quick to say. “But do you ever…want to?”

He knew it was a risky question to ask, but if she wouldn’t even consider talking about the Flash reveal from the other night, he figured the other ginormous elephant was worth talking about. It had been long enough.

Iris took a breath, fighting with herself to not break out in a screaming match in the middle of the street.

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest? I’ll be honest.”

Barry held his breath.

“Am I attracted to you? Yes. Did I just figure it out that night? More or less. Has the memory of that night been stuck in my brain ever since? Pretty much.”

His eyes widened. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“But here’s the thing.”

Uh-oh.

“It’s just sexual attraction.”

He frowned.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means…we’ve been friends for so long, we were bound to develop a physical attraction to each other at some point. And for some reason neither one of us was smart enough to give in to a one-night stand to get those completely natural attraction feelings out of our system. It was going to come out and some point sporadically.”

“So, what you’re saying is…”

“I don’t have feelings for you, Barry. I love Eddie. He’s the only person I love. Romantically, at least.”

“I…see.”

“Ideally, a one-night stand would fix all of this, but I obviously can’t do that without cheating on Eddie again. And this time with actual sex.”

Barry gulped.

“It’s not gonna happen.”

“Right.”

“I will just have to…figure out some other way to get you out of my head. Or your body, rather.”

He wrapped an arm around the back of his head and did not succeed in stopping the blush that spread across his cheeks.

“I see.”

“And even if I did have feelings for you, which I don’t…”

“Yeah?” He licked his lips.

“All of that is moot, because I can’t trust you.”

His face fell.

“I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. Like you’ve been a completely different person since the moment you woke up from that coma.”

“Iris…” He reached for her, but she took a step back and held up a hand to fend him off.

“I’m sorry, Barry, but a few days and some flowers, gorgeous though they may be, is just not going to cut it.”

He found he had no words to that.

So this time when she turned away, he didn’t chase after her. He watched her walk away and out of his life. Again.

…

The plan was to go back to the apartment. That was the plan. But for some reason after Iris got into her car, she kept driving past a street she was supposed to turn onto and went to a familiar place instead. A place she knew better than the apartment she shared with Eddie and felt more like home to her, though she’d never admit it.

Jitters.

When she got inside the coffee shop, she headed straight for the back staircase without even stopping to get a drink. She opened the heavy, gray door and looked up at the long winding staircase above her. Taking a breath, she started the ascent, memories playing over and over in her mind with each new step she took.

She saw that first moment she really met the Flash again. That wink he’d sent her way. It had immediately caused chills to race down her spine. She’d been breathless, absolutely and completely. Was that what a crush felt like? It’d been so long since she felt that. She skipped that step with Eddie. He’d just come into her life when she was absolutely falling apart, and they’d naturally gone through all the relationship steps, but she never really had a crush on him. They’d missed that part somehow.

But she had a crush on the Flash. There was no denying it now. No denying how superficial it was either. She was a dedicated fan, and he was a superhero. There were probably loads of people had a crush on the scarlet speedster. She couldn’t be the only one.

But he’d met with her.

To stop her from running her blog, sure, but she knew the reason behind that now. She wondered how different things could’ve been if he hadn’t been trying to stop her during every clandestine meeting they had together. He’d probably have revealed he was her best friend sooner. But then she probably wouldn’t have had a crush on him or would’ve stopped having crush on him.

Right?

She kept walking up the stairs as another time flashed before her mind. Their second time on the rooftop. She’d been so happy, so full of life, so eager for even a snippet for her to include in her blog. And she’d been flirty too.

“My hearing is fine. It’s just selective.”

She smirked at that.

Another time… the time she cut off all contact with him, at least for a while. Because a meta had taken over his mind and nearly killed Eddie.

That made sense now too. Of course in a warped mind state Barry would go after Eddie. Eddie had wanted to take down the Flash since the second he believed in him, and then there was the other thing.

Barry was jealous.

“Don’t contact me again. Okay?”

If she had only known it was Barry.

She would’ve responded so differently. She would have understood. She would’ve wanted to know if he was okay, what he had gone through, how he’d broken through. She would’ve been entirely focused on him instead of her boyfriend. Eddie might not have liked that, but he would just have had to deal. Barry was her first and foremost, always.

She burst through to the rooftop, heaving, and went to the far side, leaning on the half-wall, which practically came up to her shoulders.

Her hands were trembling, so she gripped them to the stone as tightly as she could. And then she felt a gust of wind behind her and knew who was there. Who else could it be?

“Did you search the whole city for me?” She swallowed, as she turned around.

Barry approached slowly from the doorway.

“Didn’t have to. This is…your spot.”

Her irritation boiled up inside her again. Of course he knew that. He knew things about her that she hadn’t known that he knew. All because he’d kept this ginormous secret from her for months. He hadn’t let on at all, and she’d never figured it out. Maybe that bothered her the most.

“Yeah, it’s a special spot,” she said aloud. “It’s where I first met the Flash.” She shook her head. “All those times, you were standing right in front of me, and I had no idea. I don’t even know you anymore.”

Words she’d said before, but somehow they bared repeating. He needed to get it through his thick skull that she wasn’t going to just…forgive him because he was persistent.

“What are you even doing here?” she demanded.

He took a breath, ignoring her question.

“Every time I falter make a mistake, the thought of you is what picks me up and keeps me going. And not just as Barry, as the Flash too. With every meta, every crook, every time I have to step in and be a hero, it’s you, Iris. It’s you.”

Iris licked her lips, the words hitting home for her despite how much she didn’t want them to. It was a boost to know she was the support for a superhero. Even if he was just saying it to get her to consider forgiving him.

He closed the remaining distance between them.

“Look, what I’m trying to say is…even though you didn’t know everything about my life this past year, that does not mean that you weren’t a part of it. You were. Every. Single. Day. Without you…there wouldn’t be the Flash.”

And she knew in that moment, she was going to forgive him.

Her dad might be a different story, but this was Barry. How could she not?

Barry reached down and grazed his fingertips across one of her hands. She swore she felt a spark. She’d bet her life on it. She gasped even, albeit quietly.

“So, what do you say?” he asked, his voice gravelly and rough, almost like the Flash. Almost. “Are we good?”

And in that moment that she looked up into his eyes, she saw their whole life together flash before her eyes. Past, present, and future. She felt hope and longing and love. And she didn’t see Eddie in the future just then. She wasn’t thinking about him at all.

She felt butterflies too, exploding inside of her, and a dawning revelation hit her stronger than the one before she’d kissed him weeks before.

Oh, my God. I’m in love with him.

She could hardly breathe, and it was dangerous to be this close to him, to be touching him, knowing what she now knew.

“I think…” She licked her lips. “I think we might be okay.” She tried to push past the feelings cascading around her, but it was impossible. “Fresh start?” she made herself say, and he nodded.

“I’d like that,” he said. “No more secrets?”

She could almost laugh. She was sitting on a big one right now.

Tremulously, she smiled.

“No more secrets.” She tilted her head to the side, not wanting to part with him but knowing she needed a distraction that wasn’t confessing her undying love for her best friend while her boyfriend was out of town.

“You want to go see a movie?”

He grinned, and she wanted to melt. She’d forgotten how sexy that grin was. She hadn’t let herself think it, but now she was having trouble thinking of anything else.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”

He dropped her hand, but she looped her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked toward the door on the far end of the rooftop. She felt like a girl with a crush, and she knew then with absolute certainty that if Barry had told her who he was from the beginning, her crush wouldn’t have gone away. It would’ve intensified.

And that should’ve worried her more than anything else.

But for some reason, it didn’t.

#westallen #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #just best friends #chapter 7

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ao-anonymousobsesser · 4 years ago

Text

Oops?

Hey! So! I’m not dead! Surprised? Me too!

This story was written for my good friend @comfortably-chaotic-mind - I love them, please go follow them and read whatever they post. Some ColdFlash written just for you, buddy, since I know I haven’t written much...and this is honestly kind of garbage and not in any way explicitly ColdFlash until the end, and I might eventually continue it in a real story (probably not). But anyway! Good job with school! Here you go!

Oops? a ColdFlash Fic for @comfortably-chaotic-mind - 4700 words

“Allen.”

He glanced up, fingers pausing their furious typing but still hovering over the keys. “Yeah?”

“There’s some guy at the door, says he knows you.”

Barry’s brow scrunched. “Who?”

His roommate shrugged. “Didn’t give a name. Said he was your friend, asked me to get you.” A pause, and he looked over his shoulder almost nervously. “He’s creepy, dude—I think he might be on the run. Who the fuck you hangin’ out with?”

Realization dawned, and he laughed. “Oh, okay,” he said, still laughing. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s just Len—you can let him in.”

“You sure?”

Barry rolled his eyes. “Yes, Hal. I promise he won’t steal your stuff.”

His roommate’s eyes narrowed at that. “Even more suspicious,” he muttered, but he disappeared back into the hall.

There were muffled voices—Hal telling Len where to find him—and then the front door shut and the TV in the living room turned on. If he listened really carefully, he could hear quiet footsteps on the creaky stairs.

The door to his bedroom-slash-office opened again, and he turned back to his computer. The data report wasn’t going to finish itself. It didn’t take long for the door to shut, and then a man’s figure came to lean against the desk beside his arm.

“No Cold-Gun today?” Barry asked, conversational. “How bold of you. You know, without that thing, I could take you to jail whenever I want.”

The man scoffed. “We have a deal, Scarlet—I don’t kill, you don’t turn me in. I haven’t killed anyone, so…”

He rolled his eyes. “What do you want, Snart?” he sighed. “And how did you even find me?”

“I asked Vibe.”

Barry waited for him to continue, but he left it at that, so Barry finally stopped talking and looked up with a raised brow and a completely nonplussed expression. “What do you want, Cold?” he snapped.

Len just frowned. “What are you doing here, Scarlet?”

“What do you mean?” He gestured pointedly around them. “I’m working.”

“You work in Central City,” the man corrected, almost…grumbling.

Barry shook his head, face scrunching in utter confusion. “No, I mean—I had to go back to school.”

“Back?”

“Yeah? Back? This is where I went to get my degree in the first place, and now I have to take an updated course. Just a few weeks. I should be back by next month. I’m even getting paid for it.” He grinned, though it almost immediately fell when Len just stared at him. “What?”

“When did you get your degree?”

“Every CSI has a college degree, Snart. It’s mandatory.”

“No. When were you in Coast City?”

He shrugged. “I moved the summer after high school. School for three years, training for one, and then I went home.” The other man was silent, and his brow scrunched in concern. “Why?”

Len shook his head. “No reason,” he said quietly, glancing around the room. The way he said it indicated that there was, in fact, a reason, but that he would not be disclosing it. “What are you doing back?”

“Refresher course,” Barry replied slowly. “They updated the curriculum for the new tech we have now, and Singh offered to send me back here instead of doing the course in Central, since Coast City is way better in the university department.”

The other man didn’t ask anything else, still looking around the room, and the speedster sighed deeply.

“Look, Snart, I have a lot of work to do, so if there’s a reason for this visit, please get to—”

“What was it like,” he interrupted, the words rough and halting, as if he were forcing them out of his throat, “for you, when you were in your coma?”

Barry blinked in surprise. “How do you know about that?”

“Humor me, Scarlet.”

“I…” He hesitated before shaking his head. “Well, it was hard, at first. Not just because I woke up with superspeed, but—when I was…asleep…I was just dreaming. About anything, everything—and it didn’t really feel like anything more than just regular dreams and stuff. And then I woke up, and it had been, like…nine, ten months without me even noticing. So I had to deal with that.” He sighed. “The world just kind of…I mean, the world doesn’t stop because a random CSI is in a coma. No one really cared—No one other than Iris and Joe, and STAR Labs kinda. So, yeah. It was rough for a while. Everything had changed, and I didn’t even get to see it.”

Len was quiet for a long moment. Barry watched him carefully, searching for any sign as to what this was all about.

Finally, the older man sighed and shook his head. “How did you know it was me at the door?”

“Hal’s description,” he replied without hesitation. “He’s pretty intuitive about stuff. Said you looked like you were on the run, and creepy, and suspicious, but if he thought you were actually dangerous, he would have come out and said it. And you’re the only one I know that could pull that off and still say, I’m a friend of Barry’s, can you get him? with a totally straight face.” He shrugged. “Anyone else who might have done that is still in Central. I got an update last night—they all went out to celebrate Caitlin’s first official catch.” He grinned.

Len rolled his eyes. “You left a bunch of newbies to protect the city,” he sighed disapprovingly.

Barry frowned. “You know, when we first met, I was a newbie,” he pointed out. “I had only been a speedster for like—a month.” He huffed. “Cisco and Iris have it under control for now. It’s fine. The city’s in good hands.”

“I don’t like it.”

The speedster paused, head tilted as his eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“I just don’t. A lot can happen without the Scarlet Speedster around.”

“There are three other speedsters in town right now. I think they’ll be fine.”

“None of them are you.”

“What’s your point, Len?” he sighed, exasperated now. “Did something happen?”

“No.”

Just then, Barry’s alarm sounded, startling him. It was noon: officially lunchtime. He huffed, shutting down his laptop and standing to stretch. Then his phone started beeping again—not his alarm, this time, but his text-tone. And then it started ringing. Like, ringing ringing, in the way it only did when Cisco’s latest installation was being put to use.

He had only let him put the app on his phone a few weeks ago, before going to Coast City, just in case. If several people called him at once, he could choose which he wanted to answer rather than hearing the busy-line beeping noise when he answered the phone.

Barry raised a brow and reached for the device.

Len grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “Don’t answer that,” he all but ordered. “Trust me.”

“Why?” His face scrunched. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

“They’re just going to tell you that I’m on my way here,” the man explained carefully. “And since I’m already here, you don’t need to know.”

“How did you get here so fast, then?” Barry retorted.

“Kara lent me her generator.” Len shrugged. “She was…strangely nice.” His brow rose. “I’m guessing you only told her the good parts, and not that I’m a criminal?”

The speedster ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe? By the time I met her, you were with the Legends.” He paused. “How did you meet her?”

“Long story.”

“Obviously, I’ve got time.” He crossed his arms and glared pointedly. “What the hell is going on, Len? What did you do in Central that has everyone trying to get ahold of me? When did you get back from the Waverider? Why are you here?”

“I didn’t know where else to go!” Len shouted, expression crumpling. “Mick won’t talk to me, Lisa’s underground, Sara thinks I’ve lost my mind, and the rest of the crew—they can barely look at me after what they did! What they let me do!”

Barry was utterly confused, now, and he took a slow step forward as if approaching a scared, wounded animal. “What are you talking about?” he asked carefully.

“I died, Barry.”

He froze—actually froze, standing stock-still like a robot shutting down. This was… “What?” he asked. “What…That…What?”

Len sighed, slumping down into the vacated office chair. “The Time Masters were—They were gonna let Vandal Savage wreck the timeline. Kill whoever he wanted. They said they had to, to ensure the world’s survival.”

“What does that mean?”

“In a couple hundred years, we’re going to be invaded by Thanagaar—an alien planet with a warlike people. And the Time Masters don’t think we’ll make it unless Savage is there to help us. So, they let him do what he wants, shape the world into what he thinks is best, and he’ll save the world.”

“It’s Vandal Savage, Len. He can’t be trusted.”

“I know,” he snapped. “We all knew that.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We decided to destroy their time-keeping device. The Oculus, they called it. It held the records for every timeline, every little change that would or could occur. Destroy that, and time is guided by freewill.”

“And?”

“And the only way to destroy it was to stand right next to it, holding down the button until it exploded.” He looked up, watching the horror dawn across Barry’s face, and nodded. “Ray was going to be the one, thinking his Atom suit would protect him, but we saw that it wouldn’t. And then Mick tried to step in, because Rip convinced him it was the way to repent—by saving his friend. I couldn’t—I couldn’t let him die.”

“Len…”

“I couldn’t let Mick die, Barry,” he snapped. “Not like that. Not when I—I was the one who dragged him into the whole thing. Into the Legends. He followed me, after everything, after everything I did to him, and…and I couldn’t do it.”

“I get it.”

“I knocked him out, took his place…blew up the Oculus. Took out half the Time Masters, too.”

“And then?”

“I died. Disintegrated. Became…Nothing.”

Barry reached out to set a hand on his shoulder, brow scrunched in sympathy. “How long?”

“I don’t know.” Len shook his head. “Days? Years? Centuries? I…I wasn’t sleeping, exactly, or dreaming. It was all…real. And then you were there. Every time I managed to pull myself together, every time I relaxed into the pain enough to think…You were there.”

He was confused again. “I don’t remember…”

The man was already shaking his head. “An older version of you,” he clarified. “You were…maybe thirty?” He sighed. “There were so many fragments, different timelines…It’s hard to keep track. Most of them didn’t make sense.”

“Why?”

“I’d rather not say. If you don’t mind.”

Barry shrugged. “That’s fine, I guess. It’s your trauma.” He sighed. “So this was maybe…three, four years in the future.”

“Most of it.”

“And the rest?”

Len looked away at that, silent for a minute. Then, quietly, “The last one was a few weeks ago. He brought me back to the Waverider.”

“He?”

“You…Future-You.” He chuckled softly. “I fell through a wormhole onto his kitchen floor.”

Barry laughed. “I’m sure that was surprising.”

Len shrugged. “He didn’t seem surprised. But it could have been because he was older.”

“What do you mean, he didn’t seem surprised?”

“He…” Hesitation, again. “He just leaned over and said, Finally. Then he helped me up, explained some science stuff that I couldn’t understand, and offered to take me back to my time.”

“How old was he—I?” Barry stuttered.

“Forty? Maybe forty-five?” Another shrug. “You might have been older, though—I had a feeling. Speedster aging must be slower.”

“Strange.” He shook his head. “How long did you stay with the Legends?”

“Not long. Like I said, they can barely stand to be around me.” He sighed. “It didn’t take much to get them to drop me off in 2016.”

“You still haven’t told me how you met Supergirl. She’s on another Earth, Len—the Waverider couldn’t have taken you there, and I don’t think you have any favors left with Cisco. So how did you meet?”

Len nodded, thoughtful. “That…is complicated.”

“More complicated than literally dying?”

“Yes.”

Barry huffed and sat down on his bed, crossing his arms. “Hit me with it, then.”

“First of all, I didn’t meet her this year. I met her…probably at least fifteen or twenty years from now. It’s all a little fuzzy.”

“Why?”

“She—Well, her team, really…They were the ones who pulled my threads together.” He shook his head. “They didn’t mean to, not really—they were looking for some sort of robot, or something—but they got me out first. I was unconscious for that part. Woke up in a hospital bed next to Kara’s.”

“She was hurt?”

Len shook his head again. “Not exactly…More drained. The machine they used drew power from her. She insisted it was fine, that she just needed some Vitamin D, and she’d be fine.”

“Her power comes from the Sun.”

“I know that now—I didn’t know back then.” He sighed. “She asked who I was…and when I told her, she immediately asked if I knew you and Oliver.”

“Of course she did,” he muttered. “And then?”

“I don’t remember a lot of it,” Len admitted. “She gave me one of her spare generators, and then I woke up on Older-Barry’s kitchen floor.” A scoff. “And then I get home to a crew that no longer wants anything to do with me. They dropped me off in Central. I looked for Lisa, but it looks like she’s underground—she’s not at any of her usual safehouses.”

Barry grimaced, shifting slightly in his seat. “Um…”

The former villain narrowed his eyes. “What’s that, Scarlet?”

He winced. “Lisa’s not underground, Len.”

“What are you talking about? Is she in jail?”

“No…” Barry sighed. “She’s on Earth-2.”

“Why?” Len demanded, lurching from his seat.

“Because she’s sick,” he said calmly, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “Harry—Earth-2 Wells knew a doctor who specializes in her condition, one who’s much better than anyone we know on this Earth, and we sent her over there to get help. Cisco’s probably on his way there right now to tell her you’re back.” He paused. “Actually, she’s probably with the you who lives there, now that I think about it.”

“What?” That made him pause in his anger, at least, now confused and concerned. “Why?”

“I don’t think you want to know,” Barry hedged. “But she’s in good hands, I promise.”

“Just tell me, Barry.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “The doctor I told you about, the specialist? It’s her—Earth-2 Lisa Snart is a bio-engineer with a Medical Degree. Basically, she’s Caitlin. Minus the ice powers and with the addition of some pretty sweet inventions.” He grimaced. “Her brother is…the Mayor. Of Central City. They killed their dad when they were kids—self-defense.”

Len was quiet for a moment. Then: “You’ve met, then?”

He nodded. “Twice, actually. Once on accident…and then again when Harry introduced us to Lenny and Doc. They’re…nice. Safe. Very protective, which isn’t surprising.” He grinned. “Last I talked to Lisa, she was awake and feeling a lot better. She hasn’t had an episode in almost two months, and her brain activity is back to normal. She sounds better, too—more like herself. Even flirted with Cisco when they talked, which she hadn’t done in a while…”

“She’s okay, then?”

“Not at a hundred percent yet,” Barry warned with a shrug. “But yeah. She’s safe. Happy. Feeling better than she did when she first came to us.”

“What happened?”

“She just—Showed up at Joe’s one night, out of nowhere. I think it was maybe a month or so after you left—she had called Cisco before that, asking if we knew where you were, and we told her, and she was pissed at me for some reason.” He laughed, just a little. “Then she just shows up out of nowhere at Joe’s house, scares the hell out of me when she just walks right through the front door. Which was locked.” He shook his head. “Apparently, she stole your key?” His brow raised.

Len just smirked. “Lock-picking gets tedious after a while.”

“Where did you even—”

“Iris should be more careful about leaving her purse lying around.”

“…Whatever.” Barry huffed. “So, anyway, Lisa just walks in one night—middle of the night, out of nowhere—sits right next to me on the couch, scaring the hell out of me. She looks at me, and I could already tell something was messed up with her, because she just…she didn’t look right. She looked tired and sad and…sick.” He sighed. “She looked at me for a minute and then said, Don’t freak out. You know, like she hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere. And then she said, I need your help. And I was like, With what? And she told me she ran into an old boyfriend and he did something to her.”

“What the f—”

“Not that,” he assured quickly. “That was my first thought, but she kind of lost it when I asked her, and—yeah. So then, when she calmed down from that, she got this headache…migraine…thing, and that was when I first saw her get one of her attacks.” He grimaced. “It was…bad. Weird, and scary, and it actually kind of freaked me out.” A sigh. “So, uh, I called Caitlin first, and then Cisco and Harry, and asked them to meet us at STAR Labs. Harry had actually seen something like it before, on his Earth, and he knew a specialist—other-Lisa—who could help. So we took her there. She insisted that I had to come with her, and she wouldn’t let me leave until she was with Lenny and Doc, until she was sure she could trust them.”

Len thought this all over for a moment. “What exactly did this attack entail?”

“Hard to describe…” Barry thought about it. “She kind of…exploded? Not her body, but like…her spirit, kind of. Like an astral projection, except she couldn’t control it enough to actually appear as a person.” He sighed. “We met the ex-boyfriend a few weeks later…Roscoe?”

“Dillon.” He sneered. “He’s still around?”

“Not anymore,” the speedster said darkly. “He was a metahuman…some kind of tornado-hurricane-spinning abilities. Cisco called him Topsy-Turvy, but after he just kept coming and coming…it was an accident, but he died.”

“How did he hurt Lisa?”

“As far as we can tell…She was working on some sort of mercenary work or something, and he was robbing a bank, and they…literally ran into each other. She got thrown into a wall, got a knock on the head, and apparently the concussion triggered some kind of ability she didn’t know about.”

“She wasn’t in Central—”

“When the Particle Accelerator blew.” Barry nodded. “Yeah, we know.” He winced. “You’re not gonna like our theory on that.”

“Why not?” Len asked, very slowly.

“Because it might be my fault.”

He blinked, surprised. “What?”

“Turns out…I kind of…give off small amounts of Dark Matter because of the Speed Force…mostly when I run.”

“And?”

“And, the people that I transport, if they carry a metahuman gene, could, theoretically, absorb that Dark Matter in the same way that people affected by the Particle Accelerator did…and, theoretically, this would make them more likely to develop an ability when exposed to violent trauma.” A pause. “I transported Lisa a handful of times when we were helping you guys last year, and even before that for different reasons.”

Len didn’t say anything to this, instead looking down at his hands.

“I’m sorry, Len,” Barry said quietly. “If I’d known…”

“It’s not your fault,” he told him. “You didn’t know.”

“I…”

“Not every bad thing that happens is your fault, Scarlet,” Len said with a smirk. “It’s alright.”

Barry huffed. “Fine.” He was quiet for a minute. “If you want, I can take you to her. You know, so you can see for yourself.”

He thought about it for a bit before shaking his head. “No,” he decided. “If she’s getting what she needs, I don’t want to interrupt it. If Cisco does tell her and she wants to see me, I’ll go, but for now, she needs her rest.”

The speedster nodded in understanding. “Okay.” His phone was still ringing, and he looked at it. “I’m just gonna tell them that everything is fine.”

He picked up the device, ignoring the calls, and opened the group chat, which was full of about a hundred messages that all said pretty much the same thing. He sent out a text saying, Yeah, he’s here. Just wants to talk about some stuff. Everything is fine. Thanks, I’ll let you know later. Love you guys.

With that, Barry sighed and slipped the phone into his pocket. “So, what are you going to do now?” he asked the former villain.

Len just smiled. “Not sure. I could go back to robbing banks…but I don’t really need the money. Maybe I’ll offer your team some help in Central.”

“What do you mean, you don’t need the money?” His eyes narrowed.

“Blowing up the Oculus had a few benefits.” He shrugged. “I know all the lottery numbers for the next five years. I’ve already made four-hundred grand.”

“Len…”

“Technically not a crime.”

“Still.” Barry shook his head with a deep sigh. “Fine, whatever. Well, I’m sure STAR Labs could use the help. And I’ll be back in no time…as soon as I finish this course, which is…not what I expected.”

“Too hard?”

“Too easy,” he corrected, scoffing. “I’ve read all the material, and the projects are all…solved with very little effort. Nothing near as challenging as my actual job in Central. Science there is always complicated.”

“Because of the metas.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Superpowers make regular science look way easier than it did in college.” He nodded at the computer. “Actually, after the paper I’m working on right now, I only have two more and a final exam. I could be done by next week, if I wanted. I just don’t want Singh to think I rushed through it.”

“He already trusts you more than any other CSI, Barry. I think he trusts you to do the work on your own schedule.”

“Maybe.”

“Then I’ll see you back in Central next week.”

“I—”

“Next week, Barry.”

A sigh. “Fine. Next week.” His phone buzzed, he looked at the message and laughed. “Harry says your sister is attempting a prison break to try to see you. You might want to visit her.”

Len chuckled. “Alright then. I suppose it’s time to tell her what’s happened.” He stood, holding out a hand when Barry followed suit. When their hands clasped, the villain-turned-legend pulled the speedster forward until they were almost hugging. “I’ll see you soon, Scarlet.”

“See you soon, Cold.”

And with the press of a button, Len was gone, leaving Barry to wonder exactly what just happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

6 Weeks Later

“Barry…”

“Iris…”

She sighed. “This is getting unprofessional.”

He laughed, a little nervous. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Len.” It had taken a while for everyone to get used to each other, but now he was just Len instead of Cold. Progress. “You guys have got to stop flirting in the field. It’s weird.”

“We do not flirt.”

“You’re literally blushing, Barry.” Her tone was amused now. “Do you have a crush?”

“Iris,” the speedster all but whined, pulling a t-shirt over his head. “This is weird.”

“Why? Because we dated?”

“Yes!”

“Barely.” Iris rolled her eyes. “Barry, it’s fine. You have a crush on Len, it’s fine…but you should probably tell him.”

“No!” he said immediately. “No, that’s—That’s a bad idea.”

“Why? I’m pretty sure he likes you.”

That made him pause. “Really?” He bit his lip, looking at her. “You think so?”

“Lisa keeps teasing him about it.” She nodded. “And you’re both clearly attracted to each other, and you’re always flirting, so…Why not just come out and say it?”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.”

“What if it ends badly?”

“What if it doesn’t?” Iris laughed brightly. “Barry, sometimes you get in your own way. You just gotta go for it sometimes. Take a leap of faith. It’s gonna be okay.”

Barry was quiet for a long time, and Iris eventually left him to his own devices.

Ultimately, he decided to go for it; he went to find Len. Unsurprisingly, he was at “their” spot: a diner across from Jitters and CCPD, filled with leather booths and chrome and the smell of fresh homemade pie.

Barry slid into the booth across from Len, who looked up from his phone with a smile. “Hey, Scarlet. Look at this.”

He turned the device around so the speedster could see. “What’s that? Oh—Oh, that’s so cool!” He grinned. “Lisa-Squared?”

“Yeah. Lisa drew up the models, and Doc built it. It came out pretty neat, I think.”

“It did, yeah. I like the melting feature—there won’t be ice-streaks all over the city.” He laughed. “Of course they’re gold—Lisa’s choice, I’m sure.”

“Naturally.” Len shrugged. “You can’t take the Gold out of the Glider, I guess. Not completely.”

“No, I guess not.” Barry leaned his head on his palm, elbow on the table.

The newly-branded Citizen Cold raised a brow and put his phone away. “Something on your mind, Barry?”

He shrugged. “Iris came to talk to me today.”

“What about?”

“She said that we flirt a lot when we’re in the field.” He scrunched his nose. “I told her she was crazy, and she looked at me like I was an idiot…not unlike you’re looking at me right now, Len—what the hell?”

“Barry,” he said quietly, slowly, “I don’t know how to break this to you, but almost everything we say to each other is banter…which is a form of flirting.”

“But—But,” Barry sputtered. “But!”

“What’s wrong, Scarlet?” Len teased. “Can’t keep up?”

He frowned, almost pouting. “You never said anything,” he accused.

The other man shrugged. “I was told not to.”

“By who?”

“By you. Older you—The one who brought me back. He said you had to figure it out on your own.”

Barry stammered again, arms flailing. “What the hell!” he said, frustrated. “That’s stupid!”

“You’re calling yourself an idiot?” Len clarified.

“Yes! I’m an idiot, now, but like—that’s just stupid.” He sighed. “I mean, I guess it makes sense to keep the timeline the way it should be. But still.”

They were both quiet for a long minute. Long enough for a waitress to come by and take drink orders and then bring them back.

Once she disappeared, Barry took a sip of his soda and then suddenly blurted, “Will you go with me to Jesse’s party on Earth-2 this weekend?”

Len raised a brow. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? That’s a lot of pressure.”

“It’s just a party, Len,” he said with a grin. “All our friends will be there, and we can be together without doing the awkward first-date thing…I mean, we already did a lot of that without realizing. Unless you want to…”

There was a pause as he thought about it, enough to make Barry almost panic, but Len nodded slowly. “Alright. But I have two requests.”

“Shoot.”

“One: If Caitlin makes her Speedster Alcohol, you have to stop drinking at least two hours before we leave. I want you sober when we head out.”

“Why?”

“Because, two: I want to go for a walk. We’re not doing the first-date-awkward dinner thing, and movies aren’t something we have time for, but we can go for a walk and talk about things.” A pause. “It’s important, to me.”

Barry thought about this, about what it might mean, but he didn’t see a reason to say no. Besides… “That sounds nice. Okay. I won’t drink too much, and I’ll stop before we leave so we can go talk. It’s a deal.”

“It’s a date, Scarlet.”

“A date, Cold.”

#coldflash #for a friend #coldflash fic #fanfiction #i'm a huge dork #here you go #i guess #brief hal jordan mention even though i hate him i hope you're happy

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