#stuck in flashpoint

[out-of-context-flash]

Flashpoint #1 (2011)

[flash-from-the-past]

Just like last year, dropping here today to wish everyone a happy new year :)

[styrofauxm]

I was going to keep this in the tags but it got too long and ramble-y so:

EVERYONE GO PLAY SUBMACHINE

You don't know where you are, just that you need to find the way out. The only things you know about where you are come from notes left behind by people who tried to get out before you. You never see their bodies, but you know they died.

You are in a machine. It doesn't look like a machine though. It looks like a building. Many different buildings. Sometimes it's just a landscape. Sometimes it's in the future. Sometimes it's in the past. You just want to get out.

You've got a mysterious benefactor. He's trying to guide you out of it. He's the one who created the machine. Can you trust him? Do you have a choice? His partner doesn't trust him, she'll help you. Or is that another lie? Are any of the notes real? Are you even in the submachine?

The submachine spans space and time. But you've figured out how to navigate it. You've learned it's rules and complexities. But have you? Because things don't seem to be working right. You are walking in a straight line and coming back to where you started. You are walking in a straight line for ages, but you take one step backwards and are back where you started. It certainly seems like it's falling apart. And it's definitely falling apart in the places you are using to get around. You need to fix it to get out. But if you fix it, will it let you out?

You've noticed that as you come back to locations you went to before, they've changed.

Huh, strange, I didn't do that...

Can you get out of the submachine? If you do get out, will there be anything waiting for you? Anyone? I guess you'll just have to play it and see.

If my weird ramblings haven't convinced you, how about the fact that there's a whole "game" made by the creator where you go around and read the fan theories? (https://submachine.fandom.com/wiki/Theories). What about how I've played through the entire thing something like 5 times and still am not sure exactly how everything fits together (though I obviously have some pretty strong ideas)?

massive shout out to environmental storytelling and esoteric lore in video games. if I don’t look like this while playing a game then what is even the point

[chaxcolony]

it’s funny that my blog is fancy pants themed but i haven’t even beaten world 2 yet

[sodafrog13]

ALICE IS DEAD 2024 REMAKE??? HELLOOOOOOOOO

[makyouhijau]

Captain Marvel time travel au, but its powered down teenage Billy getting stuck in the past around the early year when he starts heroing. Maybe he got cursed with magic or some strange Dr. Sivana's invention, but whatever it is he was hit with, he couldn't turn into shazam and access the rock of eternity, so he had to resort to the last option, which is to contact the current Justice League for help.

So in the future, the adults already all know about his secret identity and have made peace with it (some albeit reluctantly); but now that he's in the past, he couldn't really blurt out that he's Captain Marvel to the Justice League, because firstly, that could cause some huge damage to the timeline; whatever's going on in Flashpoint is enough proof, i think. And secondly, he doesn't want to force his younger self to reveal his identity when he's not ready because he's been there before himself and it wasn't great, like at all. So he lied.

So what ended up happening is that, due to some misinterpretation of Billy's lie, all of Justice League feel under this conclusion that he is captain's child is from the future and Billy (both of them) could do nothing but play along with it.

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

What do you think of Bryan Q. Miller’s characterisation of Stephanie Brown?

Mixed feelings!! On one hand, I have a huge soft spot for Batgirl 2009 and Steph’s narrative of perseverance and dragging yourself up and to bigger and better things after what should have been total destruction is just so so important to me. It’s great for that, and for giving Steph’s character a proper spotlight and ‘redemption’ when she very well could have been relegated to the sidelines, forever haunted by her brutal fridging. And I understand why BQM might not have wanted to dredge up War Games- Batgirl 2009 is a chance for Steph’s character to move past the shitty sexist torture porn story she was killed off in. But on the other hand, the almost total absence of it to the story feels conspicuous and strange, and I really wish we could’ve gotten a characterization of Steph that felt a little more grounded in it. If that makes sense?

She’s sort of at an all time low before Batgirl 2009. Not only has she survived the brutality of War Games, the fake death retcon returns her in uncertain graces with the other characters. Her life is uprooted, the future of her character is unsteady, and to top it off she ends Robin 1993 portrayed as disgraced and foolish, as having proven Yet Again, that Steph is proven absolutely not good enough to be a vigilante.

But none of that emotion fully carries over into Batgirl 2009? Steph seems fine enough, and while I can (and do!) read that as a repression fake-it-till-you-make-it thing, a more explicit thing might’ve been nice?

I have a few small, line by line nitpicks, for example the whole ‘forgetting Steph sews’ thing rly bothers me because it’s just such a consistent trait and to me it’s so so essential that Steph makes her own OG costume - it really communicates her self-starter ‘I’ll do it myself’ personality and how it works with her vigilantism.

Also, for a comic where Crystal has so many appearances and so much potential power in the story, I feel like we missed out on a lot of Steph and hers relationship, I don’t know if I love how Steph is characterized in relation to Crystal and would have loved something a little more attached to her history with her mom.

Just generally, I find it unfortunate that much like a lot of Tim’s characterization in the early post-Flashpoint was heavily influenced by his portrayal in Red Robin, Steph’s more blatant bubbly-ness of Batgirl 2009 became sort of her baseline post new 52. Of course, Steph’s character has always been a little silly, and she’s always told her jokes, but a lot of her other (really important!!!) traits like her anger, and her grit, and her angst, and her pessimism have been much less prominent. But I rly don’t blame Batgirl 2009 for that so much. Just an unfortunate side effect of the reboot that has unfortunately really stuck around.

So I guess, overall my biggest thing is I wouldve prefer if BQMs characterization of Steph was just more grounded in her history.

Would love to hear others thoughts on this bc I fear I probably have my biases and preferences interfering here to a degree. Thank you for the ask!! 💜

[emakataken]

Chapter 8 – Flashpoint

Idea: This is pre-canon, slow-burn AU, Buck arrives at Station 118, ruled by Captain Gerrard. Tommy/Buck/Sal.

… Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6.A - Part 6.B - Part 7

Hen was restocking an empty med bag when Buck approached the ambulance. She looked up, giving him a once-over. “You good to run?” she asked. No softness in her tone, but no ice either. Just... neutral. Like she was leaving him room.

Buck nodded. “Ready to shoot, move, and communicate.”

Hen blinked. “That supposed to mean something?”

Buck didn’t look up from the airway kit he was checking. “Yeah.” The word came out soft, tired, lonely.

She stared at him for a second before letting out a short laugh as she shook her head. “You’re a weird kid, Buck.”

“Yea,” Buck said, lips quirking upwards. “But it looks like you’re stuck with me for awhile.”

Hen didn’t smile back exactly, but something in her eyes shifted. She nudged the bag toward him with the toe of her boot. “What you said earlier, sticking up for that couple, me.” Her voice stayed even, almost casual. “That took guts.”

Buck glanced up, startled. He gave her a little shrug, like it wasn’t anything.

Hen kept her eyes on the gear. “Next time, maybe work on your delivery or timing, so you don’t get fired. Some of us might actually miss you if you do.”

Buck’s throat worked around a quiet laugh. “You saying you’d miss me, Hen?”

She finally looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Don’t push it.”

He laughed soft jogging after her as the alarm went off.

Dispatched to a large structure fire at a downtown civic center possibly an electrical failure, smoke alarms triggered in the loading dock. Except the second the rig turned onto the block, the world changed.

The building was already belching smoke, thick, gray and wrong. Windows on the first and second floor were blown out. Glass glittered on the sidewalk like ice. Civilians were screaming, sprinting from the entrance with bloody faces and soot-streaked arms. A mother clutched a toddler tight to her chest. Someone collapsed in the street, choking. Sirens echoed from every direction. Sal jumped down before the rig stopped rolling, barking for triage zones, ordering Allen and Cobb to pull the burn kits.

Hen was the first to really take in the scene. “This isn’t electrical.”

Sal’s eyes narrowed as he swept over the building. “Wait, this is the one the city’s been using for emergency overflow, right? Shelter setup, triage drills…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Didn’t have to.

One of the firefighters from 207, face pale and hands shaking, cut in, “Yeah. But today it was a health department thing, family safety fair. Vaccines, CPR demos, bouncy houses out back.”

Hen was moving before Sal finished barking orders, her voice cutting through the chaos like a scalpel. "You two, help that woman to the curb! Sir, keep pressure on that arm!" She thrust a roll of gauze at a stunned bystander before turning to a teenager clutching his bleeding forehead. Her fingers probed the wound with clinical precision even as her eyes tracked Buck as he picked up a kid and passed him carried him toward 207’s triage station. "Look at me, sweetheart. You're gonna be fine, but I need you to sit right here and hold this."

The mother with the toddler grabbed her sleeve. "Please, my baby's not breathing right-"

Hen didn't hesitate. One hand on the child's back, the other yanking her penlight. "Chim! I need a neb treatment and pediatric O2 stats!"

Tommy grabbed Buck’s arm without thinking, eyes already tracking the upper floors.

Gerrard’s voice cut through the chaos. “Deluca, establish perimeter. I’m taking a team in. Tommy, Buckley with me. Ventilation and evac sweep, east corridor.” Gerrard turned, scanning the chaos, and added, “Rodric, you’re with us. Let’s go.”

Rodric snapped his helmet into place without a word. Buck caught the way his eyes flicked to Sal, just for a second, before following after their captain.

Gerrard didn’t wait for confirmation. He pushed past, his shoulder clipping Buck as he moved.

Buck stiffened. His eyes flicked to Sal, fast, searching then to Tommy’s.

Sal’s jaw was locked tight, headset in one hand, the other clenched around the strap of his gear bag. But it was his eyes that gave him away. They didn’t follow Gerrard. They tracked Tommy. And the fear there wasn’t loud, but it was real. The kind that only showed up when you knew exactly how much you had to lose.

Buck’s gut twisted.

But there was no time to argue. Not with the 207 and 131 watching. Not with radios crackling and smoke crawling the edge of the block.

Hen slapped a mask into Tommy’s then into Buck’s hands. “Watch your corners,” she said tightly. “This place is old. Renovated, yeah, but built on bones.”

Tommy met Sal’s eyes for a fraction of a second as he clipped his helmet into place. His lips twitching at Sal’s nod. Go. Come back.

And then they were gone. Through the door and into the smoke. They moved fast through the east entrance, metal frame bent from the pressure wave, doors sagging off the hinges. Rodric fell back a few steps, his flashlight sweeping lazily.

The smoke hit like a wall. For a moment, it wasn’t L.A. anymore. It was dust and concrete and blood-slick boots. Buck blinked hard and forced the world back into place. Los Angeles civic center corridor. Ventilation sweep. Focus.

The lobby was chaos. Half the ceiling had collapsed. A support beam had split and was bowing under its own weight. Alarms shrieked. A red exit sign flickered overhead like a dying pulse.

Gerrard barked something into his radio. The channel was flooded. Nothing but static and overlapping shouts. Buck could barely hear anything over the roar of fire chewing through drywall.

Tommy was at his six, sweeping right as they moved down the corridor. Buck took left. Gerrard pushed ahead. They reached a junction. Smoke poured from a stairwell to the right. The glow of flame lit the far end of the hall like a flare.

Tommy pointed. “Evac route’s clearer. We loop down and…”

“Move!” Buck shouted, lunging forward, shoving Tommy back. But the ceiling came down hard and fast. Plaster. Insulation. Iron supports. The impact rocked the hallway. Smoke and debris exploded into the space.

When Buck coughed his way upright, Tommy was gone.

Rodric was already shouting into his radio, panicked. “We’re cut off, shit, smoke’s too thick!” But he didn’t move toward the debris, just stumbled back, retreating fast.

“Tommy!” Buck called, voice cracking. “Kinard!”

Nothing. Just the roar of fire and the churn of settling dust. Smoke rolled through the gap like a tide. He tried the radio. Nothing but static.

His pulse kicked. Hard. No, no, not again, not now, not him.

He dropped low, tried to find an opening in the debris, but the wall had collapsed completely. The shape of the hallway was gone.

“I’m good!” came the muffled shout. “I’ve got a clear path to the outside. I’ll connect with Deluca or Howie and we’ll circle back, take the west stairwell!”

Buck let out a breath that shook. Pressed a hand to his thigh like it could hold him steady as he pushed himself back to his feet.

He didn’t move at first. Couldn’t. His body vibrated with the effort not to go after him.

Because this, this went against everything drilled into him. Years of training. Eight men on a team. No one left behind. You find a way, or you die trying.

Thirty-seven days.

He swallowed back the nausea. His right hand twisted the paracord bracelet at his wrist, knuckles white, steadying against the panic rising in his throat.

And leaving Tommy now, even with a plan. Felt like failure. Like desertion.

His eyes burned.

Gerrard was already moving. “Leave him! He said he’s good, his plan is solid, let’s go, that’s an order Boot!”

He glanced once toward the smoke where Tommy’s voice had come from and turned, forcing himself after Gerrard. Rodric caught up with them at the junction, wide-eyed, barely breathing. “Kinard’s okay?” he asked, voice brittle.

Buck didn’t answer. Just pushed past him, following Gerrard deeper in. Rodric trailed behind, steps uneven, flashlight jittering against the smoke.

They turned the next corner, and the floor groaned under their feet. “Fall back,” Buck commanded, too late.

The floor gave. Gerrard went down fast, one leg swallowed by a jagged hole between support beams, concrete and debris crumbling beneath him. Smoke surged upward like a living thing.

“Cap!” Buck dropped to his knees, crawling forward as fire licked up the far wall.

“I’m stuck!” Gerrard’s voice was rough, panicked.

Rodric stood frozen at the edge of the collapse. He didn’t move toward the hole. Didn’t back away either but his eyes followed Buck.

Buck reached Gerrard, hands already moving. His gaze rolled over the wound: entry mid-calf, jagged edge, no exit. Minimal arterial spray. Not femoral. Yet. Shock setting in. He could work with this.

He shifted and clicked his radio. “Probational Officer Evan Buckley with the 118, Mayday. Firefighter down. Officer compromised. East corridor. Structural instability, heavy smoke, partial collapse. I need back up for extraction and suppression.”

Silence.

He tried again. Nothing. No static, no bleed. Just void. Almost like interference. Jamming. Suspicion crawled cold up his spine.

He pressed a hand against Gerrard’s shoulder. “You breathing?”

“Fuck you,” Gerrard rasped, trying to twist away.

The blood hit his nose, thick, coppery, hot. And for a breath, he wasn’t here. He was back in the port, lungs full of dust, gloves slick. Julian’s voice rasping in his ear, “we move on three…”

“You think you’re in charge?” Gerrard spat, cutting through the memory.

“No,” Buck said, forcing the memory down. “I think you’re dying. Now hold still.”

He pulled Gerrard’s weight up, angling his hips enough to free his leg. Smoke swirled. Heat surged. The floor moaned.

Rodric took a half-step forward, his voice shook. “Do you want me to…”

“Cover the hallway,” Buck ordered, not looking back. “If anything shifts, warn me. Otherwise stay the hell out of the way.”

Rodric nodded, swallowed, and lifted his radio again still nothing but static. He braced himself at the threshold, eyes wide.

Buck didn’t wait. He hauled Gerrard down to the floor, muscles straining. The weight was nothing new. The fire was nothing new. The silence, though? That was the part that scared him.

Tick-tick-tick.

That sound, the tick of a buried device shoved the air from his lungs. He knew this. Not from drills. Not from LAFD. From a desert hallway that hadn’t existed on any map, from sand and steel and silence just before the breach.

“Shit,” Buck breathed.

“Probie?” Gerrard wheezed.

From behind, Rodric’s voice cracked. “What the fuck is that?”

Buck didn’t answer. He grabbed Gerrard hard, heaving him up with a grunt that tore down his spine. “Move. We’re getting out. Now. We’ve got to move, we aren’t dying in this shitty fucking hallway. Move Rodric.”

Gerrard hissed in pain as Buck dragged him upright, weight sagging hard against Buck’s side. “My leg…”

“Broken,” Buck snapped. “Deal with it. If you’re still talking, you’ve still got more to give, so keep fucking going.”

The hallway pulsed with heat. The ticking was louder now, steady and awful, like a countdown shoved straight into his chest.

 “Was… Is that a bomb?” Rodric voice pitched up, tight with panic.

“Cover our exit!” Buck barked without looking back. “Unless you want to find out.”

Rodric flinched but nodded, eyes too wide as he stumbled forward to the stairwell door, shoulder pressed to the frame like it might hold him up.

One arm under Gerrard’s, Buck half-carried, half-dragged him forward. Plaster and ash rained from the ceiling. Another groan, louder this time. A shift in the air like something exhaling its last breath.

Buck ducked low, teeth grit as he hauled Gerrard through the stairwell threshold.

Rodric lurched forward from where he’d been frozen, catching the door with both hands and yanking it shut. The explosion wasn’t loud or big, but it was close, a thump that rattled deep in the bones. The fireball didn’t chase them, but the collapse did, hammering the door as dust and debris slammed against it like a wave.

The ticking stopped.

Gerrard sagged in Buck’s grip, unconscious or damn close, his breath rattling shallow and wet.

Rodric leaned against the door, chest heaving, eyes wide. “Jesus,” he rasped.

Buck didn’t slow. Just tightened his hold on Gerrard and pushed forward. “We’re not done,” he growled. “Stairwell’s still clear. Move.”

Buck hit his radio again, static crinkling to life. “This is Buckley. I need med evac at east stairwell exit. Captain down, probable compound fracture, possible concussion, possible internal bleeding, confirmed outward bleeding. We’ve got secondary devices. Repeat, this was intentional.”

Behind him, Rodric leaned hard against the stairwell wall, bent over with his hands on his knees, coughing like he couldn’t breathe past the fear.

The radio silence that followed was chilling, no static, no breathing, just three seconds of dead air that somehow carried more weight than any scream.

Then chaos erupted across the channel.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tommy's voice, raw and unguarded.

A sharp metallic clatter as someone dropped equipment. "Say again, Buckley?" Chimney demanded through the noise.

But it was Sal who spoke next, his voice pared down to steel. "Copy confirmed." A barely audible inhale. "All units, we have confirmed intentional detonation. Switch to channel four. Buckley, keep him alive."

The radio crackled with Sal's authorization, but Buck barely registered it. Blood from Gerrard's leg seeped through his turnout gear, warm and insistent against his ribs. Each breath tasted of burning insulation and copper, the stairwell's tilted geometry playing tricks with his balance.

"Copy," Buck rasped, though the word caught in his smoke-raw throat. He adjusted his grip, Gerrard's dead weight threatening to pull them both backward down the crumbling steps. The captain's breath came in wet, stuttering gasps against his neck, alive, but barely.

“Climb,” Buck ordered, voice low but firm. “We don’t need brave right now. We need to move.”

He caught Rodric’s eye and as something shifted between them. Buck gave him a crooked grin, too wide, too reckless and winked. Like they were invincible.  “On three,” he said, voice hoarse but steady. “Go.”

Rodric blinked, then nodded, the breath catching in his throat. “Three.” He swallowed hard and started up the stairs.

 “Atta boy,” he murmured under his breath. “Don’t stop.”

Three flights up, Buck's muscles screamed in protest. Sweat stung the shrapnel scars along his side, the pain a familiar counterpoint to his racing thoughts. Behind them, the building groaned like a living thing, hungry to swallow them whole.

Ahead, Rodric faltered, one hand catching the rail as he stumbled. “I… I don’t know if I…”

“You do,” Buck snapped, breath ragged. “You’re already doing it.”

Rodric turned, wide-eyed.

Buck’s grip tightened under Gerrard’s arm. “No one’s asking you to carry the weight. Just clear the path. That’s it. That’s your job.”

Rodric nodded, jaw clenched, and kept moving.

Buck dragged in a breath through his teeth. “That’s it,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Just keep going.”

Rodric reached the landing first, eyes wild but focused now, one arm braced against the wall. Without waiting, he twisted and slammed his boot into the door. It burst open with a jolt, the impact echoing down the stairwell.

The smoke gave away to sunlight, revealing a hallway choked with collapsed ceiling tiles and broken light fixtures. The wall plaster had cracked like eggshells, scattering white dust across the linoleum floor.

Buck stumbled out behind him, breath ragged, Gerrard still draped over his shoulders. Gerrard stirred as Buck propped him against the wall. "Should've... left me," the captain slurred, one bloody hand clutching at Buck's shoulder.

“Yeah,” Buck muttered, not looking at him. “But I don’t leave men behind. Even the ones who would’ve left me.”

He smashed the window with his flashlight, the safety glass fracturing into a thousand glittering pieces. Cold air rushed in, clearing the smoke just enough to reveal Tommy’s face, soot-streaked, eyes wide with something dangerously close to relief. Or maybe fear. Or both.

"Took you long enough," Buck croaked, fingers already working the harness straps. His hands shook now not from fear, but exhaustion, the delayed tremor of muscles pushed beyond limits.

Tommy's gaze tracked the blood soaking through Buck's gear, the way his left knee refused to fully straighten. "Christ, Hershey," he muttered, as he reached for Gerrard. Their gloves brushed during the transfer, Tommy's grip lingering half a second too long. You still with me?

Buck answered by swinging himself onto the ladder, his body moving on autopilot even as his vision grayed at the edges. Below them, the building gave one final shudder, the east wing collapsing in on itself in a roar of dust and sparks.

Still clinging to the ladder, Buck looked down at Gerrard's unconscious form slung over Tommy's shoulder, then his gaze cut to meet his friend's eyes.

As Hen's voice crackled over the radio calling for medics, Buck let his forehead rest against the cool metal of the ladder. Just for a second. Just until the world stopped spinning.

“Medics incoming!” Chim called, sprinting across the pavement with a backboard.

Hen was already cracking open her med kit. “His pulse is thready. We need a tourniquet now.”

Tommy eased Gerrard onto the gurney. Blood soaked the backboard before they even finished strapping him in. Hen pressed gauze to the wound and snapped her fingers for suction. Chim moved fast, eyes flicking to Buck, then away like he didn’t want to ask if he was next.

Buck blinked at him, shaking his head slowly. Sal reached out, locking his hand onto his shoulder. “Evan,” he snapped his fingers in front of his face.

Buck didn’t answer.

He didn’t move.

Just stood there, swaying slightly, covered in Gerrard’s blood. Soot streaked every inch of his turnout gear; smoke grime caked in the sweat at his hairline. He blinked slowly, like the scene in front of him didn’t quite match what he was seeing.

Sal’s gut twisted. He stepped closer, voice dropping. “Hey. Look at me kid.”

Buck turned his head, slow and fractured. His eyes were sharp but wrong, glassy with shock. His gaze flinted away, chasing ghosts in the smoke. “C’mon kid, I’ve got you.”

The captain from 131 approached, boots crunching through the glass that littered the concrete, helmet tucked under one arm. He stopped beside them, eyes narrowing with a grim kind of respect. “Hell of a firefighter you’ve got here, Deluca.”

Sal didn’t take his eyes off Buck. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I know.”

The captain’s tone shifted, quiet and deliberate. “And we all heard Gerrard before the signal cut. The shit he said on open comms. I’ll make sure your next report ends up on the Chief’s desk. This doesn’t get buried.”

Sal looked up, jaw tight. “Appreciate it.”

Behind him, Allen lingered near the engine, whispering low. “You think this gets pinned on us?”

Rodric didn’t answer. He pulled off his helmet with a shaky exhale, fingers trembling against the strap. For a moment, he just stood there, eyes fixed on Buck as he turned and walked straight toward Sal, soot streaked across his jaw.

“I think I’m ready to file that report now, Lieutenant,” Rodric said quietly.

Sal held his gaze, measured, unreadable then gave a single nod. He exhaled once, slow and steady, before turning toward Buck. Stepped in close and caught him gently by the arm. “Alright, Hershey,” he said. “Time’s up.”

Buck blinked again. “I’m fine.”

“No,” Sal grunted, “you’re not fine.” Sal said, stepping in closer. “You’re shaking, bleeding, and barely standing. Sit your ass down, Hershey.”

Buck opened his mouth to argue, but Sal’s grip tightened. His other hand lifted, hovered at Buck’s shoulder like he might pull him in but didn’t. “You scared the shit out of me,” Sal said, barely audible now. “Now sit. Please.”

“I got him out.”

“You did.” Sal’s voice cracked just hair. “You got him out.”

He guided Buck toward the spare gurney, slow and steady. Buck didn’t fight it, just stumbled a little when Sal nudged him down onto it. He grabbed a bottle of water from Chim’s open pack and pressed it into Buck’s hand. “Sip. Small sips.”

Buck stared down at it like he couldn’t remember how. His fingers curled around the plastic. He brought it to his lips, then paused. “What’s the report gonna say?” he asked hoarsely.

Sal settled next to him,. “It’s gonna say you carried a man through a structural collapse with a busted leg, smoke-blind, no radio, and live explosives still ticking behind you.”

He met Buck’s eyes. “It’s gonna say you saved his life.”

Buck looked away, back to the civic center.

Part - 9

[hoetachi]

𝐈. HEATWAVE

| wc: 7.1k |

3 YEARS AGO...

𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 THE ULTIMATE POWER COUPLE: JOHNNY STORM & [Y/N] TURN UP THE HEAT!

𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹 FLASHPOINT: JOHNNY STORM AND [Y/N] CAUGHT IN PUBLIC BLOWUP—DOES THE HUMAN TORCH HAVE A TEMPER?

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 SCORCHED BUT NOT BURNED! JOHNNY STORM & [Y/N] PROVE LOVE IS WORTH BURNS

"do you guys ever get tired of reading these?" sue quirked a blonde brow, flipping through the magazines. almost every other cover was about you and her brother's relationship flaws, which was disheartening to watch up close. "look at 'em, suzie?," ben let out a long sigh, rubbing his overly calloused finger to his temple. sue looked up to be faced by a disgusting sight.

johnny palmed your exposed thigh that spilled out of the slit of your hand-stitched designer dress, gripping you closer— the contrast between his veiny hand and your smooth skin against the silk of the deep cetacean blue fabric were the perfect combination. your lips meshed together without any sign of patience nor quieting— with both your ceaseless moans filling the limited space, whilst both of you freely roam each others bodies.

does it look like it's stopping them?" ben shook his head while crossing his large arms, unimpressed with their crude PDA and lack of mindfulness for the rest of the occupants that rode with them.

johnny pulled back, causing an airy whine to leave your lips. he flashed ben his signature cocky smile— the one that could make panties fall and fists clench white. "c'mon pebbles! it's called passion, and i am an passionate lover. ain't that right, princess?" giving his lips a quick lick, savoring your vanilla-bean lipgloss. he just couldn't help himself to a quick taste of you.

"you have your moments, storm" you rolled your eyes with an amused smirk, gaining a squeeze on your thigh, which was still lounging comfortably on his lap. you readily had your compact mirror in hand, checking for any misconstructions in your makeup. everything seemed fine still, but it didn't hurt to apply more gloss since your giddy casanova wanted to show his passion for you so hungrily

"and to answer your question sue," you addressed her, searching through your clutch and grabbing your gloss. "we're stars. it's nothin' if we get into the magz every once in a while" you shrugged, swiping your lips with the tube skillfully. a bad headline wasn't nothing to you and johnny, you two had plenty of more good deals to outsell the bad press. however, that didnt't mean the reoccurring theme of him being caught with girls didn't bother you, but you knew johnny was an 'work in progress' so you stuck by him when others, especially sue, urged you to go.

you saw a future with him, you just hoped the last year and a half made him feel that way too. it's been an absolute rollercoaster dating fantastic four member. when things were good, it's great but when things were rocky....

he snapped his fingers, straightening up in his seat and agreeing immediately with your explanation. "exactly! it's—"

"—still doesn't excuse the fact you got caught with two victoria secret models at an after party while i was filming in LA" you side-eyed him with quickness, moving your thigh off of him and crossing your legs forcefully. when that headline broke, you were pissed. it felt like the both you were basically back at square one again; you thought he was getting better, but you knew johnny— he gets too caught up with the fame of things, which continuously dull his common sense.

to say johnny's a cheater would— how'd he said it? 'scorned his pride'; he claims he's an 'empath'... who sometimes get caught up in the moment.

johnny opened his mouth, then quickly shut it, rubbing a sheepish hand over his blond buzz as if it would smooth over the controversial topic. in his defense, he was a celebrity guest at the show and was invited to the after party by those models, which who doesn't love an after party?! well, besides you. "firefly," he started, flashing again that signature storm grin— charming, cocky and definitely meaningless in the moment. "you know how those shows are. i was just—"

"just what?" you cut in, arching a perfect brow. "being an empath?" you mockingly retorted

sue scoffed on your behalf, because not even she could process the scene before her eyes. "oh, this should be greeaat." genuinely, it was like watching an reality tv show and the rest of the team had the misfortune of being the unwilling audience.

johnny shot his sister a harsh glare before returning his attention back to you, softening his expression and grabbing your hand clinging it warmly. "look, baby, i swear it wasn't what it looked like in the magz"

ben, who has been silent through the whole thing— was now amused by the confrontation, let out a low chuckle "oh relax suzie, let matchstick here, continue diggin' his grave"

reed, ever so calculated even without a chalkboard, stroked his chin. "statically speaking, the probability of being 'caught up' by paparazzi with two supermodels at once, are—" johnny threw up a hand, getting sick of everyone's negative commentary on his past slip up. "alright, alright genius, we get it" he cut off before reed could get started

"that was old news," he threw a hard knowing look to his family, daring anyone to interrupt him. "and besides, i made it back up to you with that trip to the mountains in colorado. remember the hot tub?" he leaned in, whispering the last part seductively

"i remembered the hot tube," you smirked, turning to meet his unwavering grin. "and i also remembered how you wanted to invite the snowboard instructor to join us!" your face instantly turned sour, causing hearty laughs from ben. "shut it gravel face!— c'mon baby you're killin' me right now" you ignored his usual whining. "y'know i'm a people's person. it's natural for people to gravitate towards me!" you groaned, but you can't deny he was right.

johnny's charisma was like no other— he always knew what to say to draw people in and have them wanting more and his heart was always in the right place. none of these things were particularly bad, yet how he executed it and rephrased it as being an 'empath'— that was your problem with him.

you knew every hero had an identity other than their own hero persona. however to you, he was exhaustingly both— johnny storm and human torch—all the time and genuinely you wish he'd just made one take things serious; take your relationship serious. yet, knowing johnny, any form of serious talk, he immediately shys away from. can't go a single moment without a joke or two or having that stupidly cute grin on his face. it was infuriating to constantly deal with. for once you wanted to feel secure that he was your man, and you were his one and only lady.

"wish you just repelled the ladies away" sue murmured, looking out the tinted window— the distant crowd growing louder as the group approached. she would never get why someone as sweet as yourself, would want to deal with her dimwitted, center of attention brother— you're the real catch! came from a rich family, oscar-winning actress, international supermodel, and overall a great gal.

in a way, she can see why johnny would pursue you, but christ, was it that hard to just settle down for once?! to bring his bright fire to a simmer? certainly, you aren't the first girl he's been with, and deep down, she prayed— prayed you'll be the last. she knows in her being you're the one for him, without a doubt. she just needed him to end this childish playboy antic already and realize he can stop chasing whatever's the next rush.

"enough of old press," he announced, regaining everyone's attention once again as the limo began to slow down— the once distant cheers now loudly muffled. this was his time and since he was nominated for an award tonight; he wanted to look out of this world! receiving his amber shades out of his leather jacket, and in a swift movement placed them right on the bridge of his nose. he smoothed any wrinkles that was visible on his leather then faced the group with his storm grin.

"it's showtime, boys and girls—erm and rockslide" he winced towards ben playfully, rushing out before ben could get a hold of him. johnny, the infamous showman he is, widen that his signature storm grin even more as cameras flashed never-endingly and cheers erupted from the crowd— especially from the section of his devoted fangirls that were front and centered.

you watched as your supposedly doting boyfriend basked away in the attention, completely neglecting your presence still in the limo. "imma get 'em reed, i promise you! those flames won't save him when the moment comes" ben threatened vehemently, waving a colossal finger in the worried scientist's face. both sue and reed reassuring him they'll talk to the boy once they catch up with him. as they also made their duo exit, your chest tightened a bit— slightly mourning in the fact, he really just went out on the red carpet without you. not even throwing a look over his shoulder to see if you was right behind him or even okay— yet you still took a deep breath, straighten your back with poise; regaining your nerves. you knew better than to chase him when he flew too high from reach.

ben usual scowl soften as he watch you battle your emotions from breaching the surface. he despised how the kid always disrespected you without a second thought, "c'mon doll, y'know ol' benny got you" ben murmured softly, getting out of the limo first— he offered his hand to you. flashing him a genuine smile as well as a whispered 'thank you', you took his hand and stepped out— giving the press your picture-perfect smile as you and ben walked down the crimson carpet. "sometimes i think that kid doesn't think, matter of fact, that's all the time" he scolded quietly just for your earshot, which made you chuckled. despite johnny's crudeness towards the man, you still appreciated the small moments with him; he always knew what to say to lift you up or to shoot johnny off his high horse and you admired how he adored alicia like she was the next best thing to water (which she was)

"..he's excited he's nominated this year," You said, putting out some kind of reasoning for his neglectful action "i would've done the same, but i'll talk to him" you smiled. he could tell it bothered you more than you let off by how it didn't reach your eyes. "if you say so, toots" he didn't pressed further, so he simply ushered you forward to go and catch up with him.

the night moved along with all the glitz and glam you expected. award after award was handed out, speeches were made, and the fantastic four remained the usual center of attention with a couple other groups whenever the cameras panned to your table. johnny, of course, loved every second of it, flashing that megawatt grin and soaking up the attention like it was his birthright. 

then finally, the moment he had been waiting for. 

the announcer adjusted his mic, beaming at the audience. "and now, the final award of the night—the one you've all been waiting for—hero of the year." 

applause erupted through the hall, and you could practically feel johnny's energy shift beside you. he sat up straighter, adjusting his jacket, lips twitching at the corners like he was already rehearsing his victory face. 

the announcer continued. "this year's winner is someone who has time and time again shown immense bravery, unwavering dedication, and just the right amount of charm—" 

johnny smirked. 

"—give it up for the one and only, human torch!" 

the room exploded into cheers, and johnny shot up from his seat, throwing his arms in the air like he knew this was coming. the cameras panned to him immediately, catching every smug, glowing second as he ran a hand through his hair and grinned at the audience. 

sue clapped proudly, reed gave a nod of approval, and ben grumbled a low, "here we go..." as johnny turned to all of you. he gave you a brief peck, which anyone could've missed with an blink. he then sauntered toward the stage, eating up the praise for his win. 

you sat back in your chair, crossing your legs as you clapped excitedly along with the rest of the room. And as much as johnny drove you insane, you had to admit... this was his element. he was born for the spotlight, and there was something annoyingly sexy about the way he thrived in it. "that's my man!" you yelled, giggling like a schoolgirl.

he took the mic, flashing his pearly whites, waiting just long enough for the applause to die down before he spoke. "wow, man! hero of the year. better luck next time, webs" he pinged the web slinger, who waved a playfully dismissive hand. the audience laughed, eating up his natural charisma. 

he shook his head playfully, pretending to be modest. "nah, for real—this is insane. i mean, i'd like to say I saw it coming, but even i wasn't totally sure." 

laughter again. he was milking it. 

"but in all seriousness, i gotta give a huge shoutout to my fans." he gestured broadly. "y'all are wild. i mean, i save a cat from a tree, and suddenly i got hashtags trending within seconds? love it! keep it coming!"  he encouraged as more laughter followed

"and of course, gotta show love to my family. sue, my lovely annoying sister," he introduced, laughter filling the room again, cameras zooming towards her as she playfully rolled her eyes. "thank you for keeping my head on straight when things get hectic. also reed, my brother-in law, the real brain behind this operation. without them, i'd probably be setting way more things on fire than i should." he turned to them with a cheeky grin. 

reed chuckled and nodded, while sue rolled her eyes again but smiled. 

"and ben— ben, ben, ben! my favorite walking boulder—" 

ben groaned. "here we go..." 

johnny smirked. "—seriously, man, I don't say this often, but... you make me look real good out there ." 

the whole room erupted in laughter, even ben, who shook his head and grumbling as usual, had a small smirk on his lips. "you're lucky this is your night, torch."  ben shouted over the crowd's commotion

johnny soaked it all in, shining brighter like a star. and then, just as you prepared yourself for it—the part where he'd profess his love and gratitude to you, the person who had been there through hell and back with him, the one who stood by him even when he didn't deserve it— 

a velvet-smooth voice tugged your focus from johnny— laced with a mischief that was entirely too intentional. you didn't have to guess who could pick such a time to work on your nerves. "you know, y/n" he murmured smoothly, his eyes flickering over you like he was admiring a masterpiece, "i don't know how you do it. walk in here, looking that good, and expect the rest of us to just—function."

you bit back a smirk, tilting your head slightly tuning out johnny's rambling just a bit. "is that so?"

"oh, absolutely." his gaze dragged down, taking in the elegant curves of your dress before settling back on your face, all heat and appreciation. "i mean, i'm a man of many talents, but even i am struggling to focus with you sitting next to me like this. if they gave out awards for making an entrance, you'd have this whole room beat, including the lovely miss munroe and frost." he mused before taking a sip from his champagne. you resisted rolling your eyes at the mention of emma frost. she was a previous problem in you and johnny's relationship. always made a way to intertwine her name with johnny's in headlines and constantly kept his name on her tongue interviews. however, this wasn't about emma frost and classlessness.

the corner of your mouth twitched upward, his words shameless but undeniably effective. you weren't immune to tony stark—no one really was. and he knew it.

still, you had to rein him in before he got ahead of himself. you let the compliment linger, soaking it in for just a second longer than you probably should have, before leaning in slightly.

"flattering, stark," you purred, eyes dancing with amusement, "but i'm still a taken woman."

tony let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he swirled his glass. "yeah, yeah, i know," he said, as if the concept was some great cosmic injustice. then, his voice dropped just low enough to send a shiver down your spine. "just saying—if i was up there, i'd have led with you. hell, i'd have made the whole damn speech about you. like reed did for sue. that's how you treat a star like you."

just like that, the warmth from his praise flickered out as reality sank in.

your head turned back toward the stage, just in time to see johnny finishing up.

"—also all the heroes in here tonight. you guys are the real stars and thank you for teaching me everyday what it means to be.. fantastic! goodnight! i love you all!" he finished, cheers and applauds resuming as he climbed down stage

it didn't come. 

your name never left his lips. 

your smile didn't falter, but at the table, you could feel the shift. sue blinked, brow furrowing slightly. reed glanced in your direction, no doubt calculating how many ways this night would end for johnny. and ben gave a sharp exhale and shook his head, muttering a quiet, "dumbass." 

but you? you played your part. you sat there, chin high, eyes still locked on johnny like nothing was wrong. because you knew damn well the cameras were watching. 

"how you guys think i'd do?!" he kissed your cheek, then his award. "like a rookie" ben commented unamused, making the firewielder scoffed.

he turned towards you "what'd you think, baby?" he genuinely asked and you simply turn towards him. smile still present on your face, yet the light in your eyes snuffed out

"i hope it was worth it."

because you knew the real show wouldn't start until you two got back to the baxter building. 

—

the second you stepped through the doors, the real show began.

"it blows me how much of an asshole you are, yo" you shouted, storming into the living area. the other side of you was coming forth at full force now, no more miss public's princess

johnny, still buzzing from his win, shut the door behind him with an exaggerated sigh. "here we go," he muttered under his breath, tossing his jacket onto the couch. "babe, c'mon, you're really making a big deal out of nothing." he reassured, making a bee-line to the kitchen and you were hot on his trail. you stood angrily by the dining table, snatching off your earrings and any other jewelry that was adding to your irritation and carelessly tossing them.

"nothing? oh, it was nothing that you completely ignored me in your thank you speech? just like it was fuckin' nothing when you left me standin' on the red carpet alone while you ran off to pose for da' papz like you're new york's next top bachelor?!" you ranted as your eyes darted around— searching for nothing specific

johnny rolled his eyes, back towards you as he looked through cabinets for a glass to start his celebratory drinking. "babe, you're blowing this way out of propor—"

CRASH

the decorative vase that was once rested on the table—exploded against the cabinet, sending shards across the counter and floor.

it barely grazed johnny. a low whistle left his lips as he slowly turn and looked at the damage. "damnnn, that one was expensive. reed's gonna love that!"

you were fuming, grabbing the next thing within reach—a throw pillow on the couch—and hurling it at him. he didn't even try to dodge that one, just let it bounce off his chest with an unimpressed look coming towards you. "really? you go from fine china to this? what, running out of ammo?"

"oh trust, i can find more" you snapped with an crazed grin, gripping a nearby award that wasn't his from the display case. his eyes widen and quickly made an 'T' with hands. "okay, hold up! if you're gonna throw stuff, here's the rules this time: reed and sue's stuff off-limits." he instructed cautiously

you huffed, setting it down with a glare. "i cannot believe you, johnny. i was there— right there! supporting you, looking all pretty like some candy on your arm, and you couldn't even say my name?"

"you're tripping about nothin—"

your hands had a mind of their own—without breaking eye contact—you picked up a candlestick and threw it.

johnny ducked this time, but barely.

"SHUT UP, JOHNNY!"

johnny just shrugged, all easy arrogance while he flicked the bow embedded candlestick in the wall. he looked at you exhausted, rubbing a hand down his face. his next choice of words left before he thought them through, "damn, you're making this whole thing look like i left you at the altar or something."

"YOU MOTHAFU—" your jaw dropped. "are you serious?!"

he rolled his eyes, finally getting annoyed. "i shouted out the team! that's my job! you want me to give a whole-ass love speech at a hero award show? is that what this is about?"

"no, johnny," you said through gritted teeth, voice shaking now for an entirely different reason. "it's about the fact that i show up for you, i ride for you, i put up with your bullshit—and you didn't even acknowledge me? you don't respect me!" this was unfortunate reoccurring theme when it came your relationship with the flame resident. his urge for the next thrill was always first— awards, camera time, interviews and women — and you? second place. an constant afterthought that you never wanted to be. you just wanted him to understand it’s not just the speech but the principle of being in mind

johnny groaned, running a hand through his hair, his cocky smirk barely faltering. "firefly, you know i love you, but it was my night! i was soaking it in! giving the people what they want!"

"what they want?" you scoffed. "oh, so what, am i not part of the package now? you wanted me there, but the second the cameras were on, i disappeared?" you questioned, taking a step back. "you love me, but you don't respect me, johnny." your throat was tight, but you refused to cry.

he scoffed, shaking his head. "baby, that's ridiculous—" you bent down and took off both your heels real quickly, launching both of them forcefully.

"nah, what's ridiculous is me standing here, arguing with a grown-ass man about basic decency—"

"YOU'RE THROWING SHIT AT ME—"

"I'M FROM BROOKLYN, BITCH!"

"OH, HERE WE GO AGAIN—"

LET'S NOT FORGET," johnny added, jabbing his finger in your direction now, "that while I was graciously accepting my well-earned award, tony-fucking-stark was basically undressing you with his eyes on live television!"

you rolled your eyes. "oh my god, are you really flipping this on me right now?" you laughed dryly

"uh, yeah," johnny scoffed. "i had to stand there, grinning like an idiot, while mr. billionaire, playboy, genius practically made you a damn valentine's day card in front of the whole world."

and there he goes, firing up his insecurities when another man briefly holds your attention. you find it so ironic how he can flirt with, god knows whoever, but let a sleezebag like tony show a bit of interest in you, now his head was on fire — metaphorically

"oh, be fucking for real," you threw back. "tony flirts with everybody—you should know that, considering you flirt with everyone too!"

johnny's grin widened. "yeah, difference is, when i do it, i don't mean it." you gasped, chucking another pillow straight at his face. this time, he caught it.

"i truly can't stand yo' ass," you seethed

johnny moved towards the living room. he tossed the pillow onto the couch, bracing his arms against the back of it, looking maddeningly relaxed. "nah, you love me." he shrugged as you held your ground in the center of the foyer. you glared with pure agitation, your fingers twitched— wanting to throw something else. "you are such an asshole."

and you are so dramatic," he shot back. "seriously, babe, this is not that deep."

"not that deep?" you echoed, absolutely vibrating with frustration. to think you thought the many fights the two of you had, he would know the right things to say to you in your current state; yet he outdoes himself every time with the audacity that leaves his lips. "so you're telling me, if I won an award and left you out of my speech, word to my dead, you wouldn't be mad?"

johnny kissed his teeth. "nah, 'cause I already know i'm unforgettable." he answered as if it was a rhetorical question you just asked him.

that did it.

you ran, full sprint towards the man and graciously hopping on the couch and readily lunged at him, but as if he had an angel protecting him before you could even get close, you felt something almost rubbery lift your frame up. the sound of the elevator doors finally registered, and there stood sue and reed, both looking beyond fed up.

sue's eyes flickered to the broken vase, the candleholder sticking straight out of the wall then to the two of you in the middle of once was a perfectly peaceful living room. she exhaled sharply.

"oh, for fuck's sake—again?!"

reed rubbed his temple with free hand while sue stormed forward like her hands were itching to slap someone. "are you two physically incapable of having a disagreement without turning the baxtor building into a goddamn warzone?!" she glared between the both of you

johnny just grinned, arms now crossed as he leaned back against the couch. "c'mon, suzie, a little passion never hurt anybody." he teased, blowing you a kiss

sue shot him a glare so sharp it could've cut through vibranium with ease. "johnny, I swear to god, if you don't take this seriously—"

"oh, he's taking it seriously, alright," you snapped, whipping your head around to him again. "he's just taking it seriously like an absolute dickhead."

"which one, mine or stark's?" he asked so smugly that you almost lunged right out your current restraints. "okay, that's enough," reed sighed, like he was breaking up a bar fight. unwrapping his stretched arm from around you, and instead placing a gentle but firm hand on your shoulder, like he was handling unstable chemicals. "maybe we should all just... take a breath." he suggested bashfully

sue pinched the bridge of her nose. "or better yet, reed, johnny could just apologize?" sue gave a psychotic smile towards her brother

johnny blinked, like the thought had never occurred to him. "for what?"

you gasped dramatically at him, "oh, i don't know—completely ignoring your girlfriend at your biggest career moment maybe?" he rolled his eyes. "babe, I wasn't ignoring you, i was just—"

sue clapped her hands together. "apologize. now."

johnny let out an exaggerated sigh, turning back to you with zero sincerity. "y/n, i'm sorry—"

sue narrowed her eyes. "like you mean it."

johnny huffed, shifting his weight like a kid being scolded. "fine— y/n, i'm sorry i didn't mention you in my speech. i was caught up in the moment, i wasn't thinking. you know you mean a lot to me."

you folded your arms, unmoved. "you mean a lot to me? that's it? that's all i fuckin' get?"

johnny's lips etched a grin on them, not taking how dramatic you were being about this whole situation seriously. "you want me to get down on one knee or somethin'?"

you whipped around to sue with a howling laugh. "you see this shit? you see why I lose my mind so often?"

sue threw her hands up, defeated and done with being the mediator of this mess. "yes, i see it! i've always seen it!"

reed sighed again, turning to johnny. his gaze practically begging his brother-in-law to just put an end to their madness "johnny, we get how important it was to you, but you're not getting the bigger picture here."

johnny rolled his eyes. "i said im sorry, what more do you guys want?" sue threw up her hands once again. "johnny, i swear, one day you're gonna wake up and realize that being an overgrown man-child isn't cute anymore!"

"good thing I age like fine wine, huh?" johnny just grinned wider. sue looked like she was about to explode. reed quickly grabbed her hand, guiding her toward the door before she could strangled him.

"y'know what? we're heading back out," reed announced. "try to resolve this without breaking anything else." he scolded as if you two were unruly children. sue pointed at johnny as she backed towards the door. "and if I hear one more crash, i swear—"

the elevator doors closed behind them.

silence. not the comfortable kind. not the playful, post-argument, "we'll laugh about this later" kind.

but the kind that sat heavy. that suffocated. that made it clear this time wasn't like the others.

johnny stood there, hands still in his pockets, staring at the broken vase on the floor. he swallowed, shifting his weight

for the first time all night, he glanced at you— only to find you weren't looking at him anymore. you just stood there, staring at the floor, your jaw tight. your shoulders weren't tense with anger anymore. just... tired.

that's what got him.

not the yelling.

not the things-throwing.

but the way you looked at him like you were done. for once, he didn't have anything to say.

because what could he say? what joke could fix this? what charm could smooth this over?

his chest tightened when he realized he didn't know how to approach this genuinely which caused his throat to dry up, his palms becoming clammy.

he needed to break it before it broke him

so, like a fucking idiot, he forced a chuckle. forced a signature storm grin. he rocked back on his heels and shrugged. "sooo... we good, right?"

you stared at him for a moment. then, with terrifying calm, you reached for the half-empty glass of water on the coffee table and splashed it in his face.

johnny jerked back, sucking in a sharp breath— spitting too— as the icy water dripped down his jaw, soaking his shirt. "oh, come on!"

you turned on your heel and marched toward the bedroom, slamming the door behind you so hard the walls shook.

his damp shirt clung to his chest as he took in the chaos around him—shattered glass, dented walls, magazines strewn across the floor with both of your smiling faces staring up at him. it really dawned on him how you really turnt the penthouse right on its head.

with a heavy sigh, he crouched down, picking up a few of the magazines, shaking off the shards of your rage. he absently flipped through them, fingers tracing over your glossy image. he chuckled at some of the headlines that were genuinely ridiculous and way off from the moments captured in the photos, but stop at one special edition that featured just the two of you walking late at night in central park.

𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄: THE START OF JOHNNY STORM & [Y/N]'S SUPERNOVA LOVE STORY

the photo that was on the cover was of you were laughing, arms wrapped around his neck as he grinned completely smitten with you. his lips twitched into a small smile as he turned to the full spread inside. more photos from that night. He remembered it vividly— he recalled he said something so cheesy about how pretty you are compared to the stars and that he truly believed you were going to walk off on him

yet you stayed

god, you always stayed.

through it all, his brightest moments and your darkest ones. you were something thrilling to be around, you always knew what was best for him better than he thought himself.

today, he royally fucked up and he knew that now. the red carpet was already a mess—too many lingering hands from admirers, too little attention to you and how you felt about it all. but his real mistake had been during his acceptance speech.

his fingers curled into a fist as he replayed it in his head; He'd thanked his team, his family, even gave a shoutout to the friendly web-slinger — not her

his stomach knotted.

despite the shiny award that sat quietly on the table, johnny storm didn't feel like a winner. what does winning truly mean if the woman that uplifts him, isn't even speaking to him?

"if I won an award and left you out of my speech, word to my dead, you wouldn't be mad?"

his mind raced back to that question you asked during your fight, and his answer was different now

of course he would been upset, but his pride couldn't allow him to be so vulnerable with you despite all the late night confessionals of love you both shared. he knew wasn't being the man you deserved and he needed to change that. immediately.

johnny stood outside the bedroom door, body braced against the wooden frame. he exhaled sharply, trying to gather himself. this was uncharted territory for him—apologizing without deflecting, without making a joke out of it. but tonight had already been a disaster, and he wasn't about to let his own stupidity push you further away.

he knocked once, softly. no answer. with a sigh, he leaned his forehead against the door, voice lower now—sincere, unguarded.

"listen y/n... i messed up," he started. "not just tonight, but a lot of nights. i get caught up in my own world, and i don't always see what's right in front of me. but you? you're the best damn thing in my life, and I hate that i made you feel like you weren't."

silence still came from the other side of the door.

he swallowed, his fingers grazing the door handle. "i should've said your name first in that speech. fuck, i should've spent the whole damn speech talking about you. because none of it—none of it—means anything if i don't have you next to me."

he exhaled slowly, his head tilting back against the doorframe. "i'm so sorry, firefly. not because sue told me to say it, not because i got caught up, but because i love you—and i hurt you. and I don't ever wanna do that again."

for a moment, all he heard was the distant hum of the city beyond the penthouse windows. another reminder that the world doesn't really revolve around him and his ego, rather it keeps going— just like you always had for him.

then, a soft click.

the door cracked open, just slightly. johnny held his breath as you peeked out, eyes tired but no longer filled with anger. his heart clenched at the sight of you—his girl, his firefly, the one person who saw past all the human torch bullshit and still chose him.

"you really mean all that?" your voice was quiet, but the weight of it was heavy.

he nodded, stepping closer, close enough that his breath brushed over your skin. "yeah," he murmured, "i do." your gaze lingered on his, searching—then, finally, something in you gave in. you sighed, stepping back, leaving the door open just enough. he hesitated for half a second before following you inside, shutting the door behind him.

a couple candles were the only source lighting up the room, making it warm and sweet despite the tension still hanging in the air. you stood by the bed, arms crossed over your robe you now wore, watching him carefully.

testing him

he took slow steps toward you, hands reaching out, but not touching—not yet. "you mad at me?" his voice dropped lower, rough with emotion. you exhaled through your nose. "still kinda pissed."

his lips quirked slightly at your confession. "that's fair."

there was a moment of silence. he took this opportunity to take in your form. face wiped from the glamour of your makeup, just bare and beauty. your silk pressed hair clung loosely in a claw clip, a strand falling in your face.

his fingers instinctively tucked the strand behind your ear, his fingers slowly trailing your cheek until finally resting under your chin— slightly tilting your gaze further up your him. "are you gonna let me make it up to you?" the words were slow, deliberate, each syllable dripping with promise. his breath was hot against your skin, his other hand finding themselves at your waist— tugging you towards him

your eyes flickered, a knowing look passing between you. "that depends," you murmured, tilting your head slightly. "what exactly are you offering?"

johnny didn't answer—not with words, anyway.

he closed the space between you, hands finally landing on your waist, fingers pressing into the silk of your robe. he leaned in, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, voice hushed like a secret.

"whatever you want."

your breath hitched, your resolve faltering. the warmth of his body, the way his hands knew every inch of you—it was all-consuming, intoxicating.

"you're lucky I love you," you muttered. his grin was slow, wicked. "oh, trust me, baby," he murmured, tilting your chin up to meet his lips, "i know."

his lips hovered over yours, teasing, testing—like he knew the second he kissed you, he wouldn't stop. he wanted to make sure you were right there with him, that he wasn't just winning you over with sweet words but making you feel how much he meant it.

and, god, did you feel it.

you were still mad at him—still annoyed by his cocky attitude, by the way he always thought he could charm his way out of anything. but at the same time, this was johnny. your johnny. the man who could be reckless and selfish, but who also loved you with a fire so intense, it burned through every doubt you ever had.

so when you leaned in that last fraction of an inch and pressed your lips against his, he groaned low in his throat, like he'd been waiting for it all night.

the kiss was slow at first—lingering, heavy with emotion. his hands slid up from your waist, fingertips skimming the curve of your back before pulling you in, chest to chest. his shirt was still damp from the water you threw at him, but his body was warm, solid, real.

he deepened the kiss, tilting his head to fit his mouth against yours like he was trying to memorize every second. his tongue flicked against your bottom lip, coaxing you open, and you let out a soft sigh, fingers curling into the fabric at his shoulders.

"still mad?" he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need.

"shut up," you breathed, tugging him closer.

his lips curved into a smirk, but before he could say anything else, you pressed your palm against his chest and pushed him—hard. he let out a small, surprised grunt as the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, making him drop onto the mattress with a thud.

johnny blinked up at you, dazed for all of two seconds before his hands found your hips again, dragging you between his legs. his gaze darkened, hooded with something heady and full of heat.

"you tryna handle me, baby?" he rasped, fingers teasing the loose strap of your robe, thumbs brushing over the soft skin of your thighs. "that what this is?"

you arched a brow, pretending to think about it. "depends. you gonna let me?"

johnny groaned, head tipping back slightly as his hands tightened around your waist. "fuck, you know I'd let you do anything."

that sent a shiver down your spine.

you climbed onto his lap, straddling him, and his hands immediately roamed—palming over your thighs, your ass, your waist and soon up the delicate curve of your back. his touch was reverent, almost desperate, like he was grounding himself in the feel of you.

you cupped his face, fingers slipping into his damp hair, tilting his head up so he had no choice but to look at you. his azul pupils were blown, lips parted, breathing uneven.

"say it again," you murmured.

he swallowed hard. "say what?"

"that you're sorry," you whispered, dragging your lips over his jaw, down the side of his throat. johnny let out a sharp breath, fingers digging into your clothed hips. "baby—"

"say it, storm," you ordered, nipping lightly at his pulse point, feeling the way his body shuddered beneath you from how stern you said his last name.

"fuck," he groaned.

his hands slid up, slipping under your robe, fingertips pressing against bare skin. "i'm sorry," he admitted, voice rough, needy. "i'm so fuckin' sorry, baby."

your teeth scraped against his skin, then you pulled back to meet his gaze again. "good," you murmured.

and then you kissed him—deep, slow, consuming.

he groaned into your mouth, his grip tightening as he pulled you flush against him, like he couldn't get you close enough. he kissed you like he was making up for every second he ignored you tonight, for every word left unsaid. like he was branding himself into you, so you'd never doubt your place in his world again.

his hands slipped beneath your robe completely now, sliding up your sides, tracing the curves of your body with worshipful reverence. you gasped against his lips, and he took advantage of it, slipping his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss until your entire body felt like it was burning.

"you forgive me?" he murmured between kisses, voice a little desperate, a little wrecked.

you let your fingers trail down his chest, nails grazing the toned muscle beneath his shirt. "keep going," you breathed, lips brushing against his. "and maybe i will."

johnny grinned, eyes blazing, before flipping you onto the bed. "now that," he murmured, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, "i can do."

[necrotic-nephilim]

I’m gonna be honest I didn’t realize the new 52 messed with Kon that much till I read your post and now I can’t get over the potential. I’m a Tim/Kon girly at heart so I would devour anything you write exploring the 52 vs typical Kon. Also Time being in a clone sandwich is 👌.

the new-52 messed Kon up SO bad it's ridiculous. like, to the point i would personally argue he's a completely unrelated character to pre-Flashpoint/Rebirth Kon. his personality, his suit, his origin, all different. the only real similarities are the name and powerset. and even New-52!Kon's powers are slightly different from pre-Flashpoint!Kon. New-52!Kon is a clone of a future version of Jon Lane Kent, cloned by N.O.W.H.E.R.E. to provide genetic material to Jon Lane Kent, whose body was not handling being half human/half Kryptonian well, it was a whole thing. New-52!Kon is also where we get the infamous "Kon-El means 'abomination of the house of El' and Kara basically named him a slur in Kryptonian culture" tidbit, because that is the only time that's canon. (originally Kon-El was a name gifted by Clark to accept Kon as his family way back in the 90s) he also never went by Conner Kent. New-52!Kon just straight up didn't have any real human identity or connections, outside of being very close to Tim and some Titans.

the very TLDR of Kon's history is: during post-Crisis/pre-Flashpoint, a clone called Superboy is created by CADMUS. at first, he's considered to be a clone of a dude named Paul Westfield and is not Kryptonian whatsoever, he was simply made to look like Superman and only has Tactile Telekinesis as a power. then, it was made canon that actually he was a clone of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent, but Lex hid this fact and slowly, Kon developed more Kryptonian powers. he's given the name Kon-El by Clark, and is taken in by the Kents, getting the name Conner Kent. then Flashpoint happens, we get the New-52, and we're given the above version of Kon-El, who is a clone of Jon Lane Kent, created by N.O.W.H.E.R.E. who has mostly very strong telekinesis powers and some Kryptonian powers. he's with the Titans for a bit, then at the end of the New-52, he kills some aliens and feels bad about it so he decides to fuck off and is never seen again, it's presumed he's dead but never confirmed. then Rebirth happens and DC makes Jon Kent the current Superboy, we get Supersons and all that, and it's assumed that no version of Kon-El exists. just at all. he's not around whatsoever, Jon is our only Superboy. *but* in 2019, we get a new Young Justice run and the pre-Flashpoint Kon-El is back, and we're given the explanation of: Kon got accidentally teleported to this alternate realm called Gemworld and then Flashpoint happened, and since that was a Crisis Event that changed the timeline, the poor lad got *erased* from the timeline, causing most people to *not fucking remember him* and for him to remember a timeline that no longer exists. some of the Young Justice team vaguely remember him, Ma and Pa Kent remember him, but notably, Clark *does not remember him*. it's not an issue of "Clark ignored Kon in favor of Jon" it's an issue of "Kon was erased from the timeline and didn't exist for years bc he was stuck in Gemworld and Clark just doesn't remember Kon or Kon's timeline" which to me, is far more tragic but i digress. since then, Kon has been back and is present in most significant Superfamily runs, with his own recent mini-series, Superboy: Man of Tomorrow. (which was very good btw)

so basically: the New-52 fucked Kon up so bad they wrote him out of comics for years and then brought back the pre-Flashpoint version, but never *explicitly* killed the New-52 version off. so hypothetically, it's possible that there are currently two characters existing in the DC universe named Kon-El who have been Superboy. and like i said above, one of New-52!Kon's only real significant relationships was with Tim, it was the only thing the New-52 managed to get right about Superboy, his closeness to Tim. they have a *lot* of moments that read incredibly queer. and ofc, it's just outright confirmed in Dark Crisis: Young Justice that Tim had a crush on pre-Flashpoint!Kon at some point. so while comics are intent on pretending New-52!Kon doesn't exist, i am intent on putting Tim in a clone sandwich.

because i do think it's fun to play with Tim having genuine feelings and potentially a relationship with both of them. and the fucked up nature of him not fully *remembering* his relationship with pre-Flashpoint!Kon (which is a canon thing, in YJ(2019) Tim has vague memories of Kon he's struggling to piece together and understand why he cares about this guy he doesn't recognize so much) and how frustrating that is for Tim. he knows he loves Kon, but it's all foggy besides that. and so it's even *more* fucked up if Tim dated New-52!Kon before he got emo and ran off into the unknown. obviously in canon no one has told current Kon about New-52!Kon bc comics are doing the good ol' tried and true of "sweep that shit under the rug" but for fanfic, i think it's fun to ask the question of: would anyone *tell* Kon? especially Tim? who now remembers dating both versions of them? would he admit to Kon that briefly, he had another Kon? how would Tim cope with that and move on? personality wise, they could not be more different. they dress and act and look different. they're not the same person, but there's certainly a questionable factor of Tim's dating history including two Kon-Els.

the idea i've had for a while is Tim slowly starting to date pre-Flashpoint!Kon again. it feels familiar and like home. and Tim has grieved and accepted that wherever New-52!Kon is, he doesn't want to come home, he didn't love TIm enough to stay and try. so Tim takes the Kon he has, and genuinely has a happy relationship. like for once, life is good and things almost make sense for Tim. but then, of course, New-52!Kon comes back. he decides he wants to try again and he finds Tim. only to find well. he's been replaced. and technically, he's been replaced with the *original* that he didn't even know *existed*. and if being a clone is bad enough, that just makes it a hundred times worse. because imagine knowing you're actually the second Kon-El your boyfriend who you never *technically* broke up with fell in love with. that's gotta give you some kind of complex.

so i think it's fun if both Kons try to step back and let the other Kon date Tim. both of them have reasons to feel like the "replacement" or "fake" Kon, and it makes them incredibly awkward with each other. do they count as the same person? bc they definitely don't *feel* like the same person to each other, but with weird timeline stuff, who can really say. them settling on an awkward throuple that's really meant to be Tim just dating them both but somehow they end up dating each other too is so fun for me. they both feel like imposters to the Superboy name but are so deeply in love with Tim Drake, it's the one thing truly connecting them. and then of course, Tim feels bad in that somehow, he's betraying both of them for having feelings for the other. but they make it work, with a lot of awkward angst and miscommunication. i just think it'd be fun. very difficult to write to get all the weird timeline nuances down in a way that's understandable in a fanfic (bc you can't just. infodump like i did on this post) but doable. also difficult to tag, because even though i argue these are two different characters, i'm pretty sure Ao3 groups them under the same character tag. so it'd be difficult to convey it's not *really* as selfcest-y as it would imply. comics, man. DC will never acknowledge New-52!Kon again, and he's admittedly a terrible adaptation of Kon-El, but. i think he was sort of neat in his own right and i'd *love* for DC to just inexplicably bring him back and make the current Kon deal with the consequences of all that. and them make Tim kiss them both. obviously.

[puppetwoman17]

I can’t remember who initially said the idea of the RoE being a multiverseal center but this is based off that

The RoE (depending on how it’s portrayed) switches from existing at the center of the Universe or outside it, so I went “universe is doughnut shaped” theory and said it’s both and that it’s also the only RoE in the multiverse. Which means that sometimes Billy runs into other versions of himself and just kinda got used to it.

It’s a dumb idea but Billy running into alternate versions of himself or universe hopping out of boredom or for the guaranteed adventure through the door room of the RoE.

Possibility for humor with the wackier Captain Marvels and universes, fun adventure, and the typical angst of him not seeing some versions of himself around the RoE after a while

Uh, no, this is NOT a dumb idea😍! I’ve thought about this too!

After all, it seems odd that there could be multiple RoEs. For importance purposes there has to be only one.

Anyway, the whole “Billy meeting other versions of himself(and probably his siblings too) definitely keeps my gears turning. I’m imaging that he started out seeing a lot of other Marvels/Shazams when he first got his powers. The Rock was full of kids running through different rooms, getting magic tools, reading or hanging in the cafe, complaining about their adult team members, etc. All of them grew close because they all shared the same burden.

But as the years go by, something changes. Some Billys come through their doors less and less. And when they do, the stress is written all over them. I’m ofc referring to the Billys of Injustice, Flashpoint, DCAMU, etc.

It’s a slow process, but at some point, they realize that some of them have stopped coming all together. The rock gets quiet. There are no more loud parties in the cafe. The thrones were pushed aside to make room for blankets and pillows because there were too many of them for just seven thrones. No one site there anymore.

Everyone’s too scared to reach out, stuck in their own worlds, their own problems. It’s no wonder that no one notices when their numbers start to dwindle.

The thing is, Billy can feel when something happens to his counterparts. He’s sensitive to it thanks to his position. He feels he laser eyes and the cut throat and the leg being torn off of him. He feels it all.

He goes to the rock one day and it dawns on him how quiet it’s become. Obviously he’s not the only one left, but they just don’t talk anymore. The hero life has taken its toll and the kids are scared of having any fun. Now when one billy sees another, they just walk on.

The doors to the other worlds are sealed off, as no one wants to see their own dead body. When a new Billy arrives, they steer clear, not knowing what end this one will meet.

Okay I’m gonna end the angst here cause this made me depressed😅

[rosemaryentombed]

timcassie grieffucking bc of kon’s death really highlighted how fucked up the core four’s dynamic got, and why they couldn’t be salvaged towards the end. how else do you prove how atrociously codependent and toxic they’d become to each other? they shouldn’t have even gotten that far into their personal grief, but they did bc they couldn’t be normal about anything, not after graduation day. kon shoulda healed from his shit out on the farm. cassie shoulda moved on. tim might have saved himself so much grief, but they couldn’t bc they became stuck to each other in the worst possible way. titans era yj is so bitter it doesn’t even leave room for hope. they went the worst possible direction for a bunch of traumatized, closeted fags, and tbh, flashpoint saved em. won’t even bring up bart bc he was being character assassinated. kfl was an honorable ending for a man who constantly got dishonored just for daring to exist as a mark waid creation. geoff, didio, you’re never seeing heaven

[blue-orange-pancakes]

Okay, I've had some time to think on the new Jason Todd comic and this is how I ended up:

- allegedly, Loeb was going to kill a batfam member in his stupid H2SH (forgot the source). For obvious reasons, we now know that Jason and Helena are surviving Loeb's, one of my terrible enemies, return to mainline bat comics.

- this comic is going to be written by a trans woman. Good!! We need more diversity in comic writers and it also shows that dc is maybe finally picking up that continuously hiring exclusively white cis men might be a bad idea. iirc there's also another trans person on the creative team. That's a win for sure.

- the interior art preview looks good. No Tim Drake: Robin mishaps with the art here.

- I did however not see any christian symbolsism on Helena's suit, which, gotta say, very disappointing. C'mon DC you've had her for ages let's not go down this path.

- It looks like Jason's finally getting out of Gotham, which is great!! That's what I wanted, actually. Not sure why they stuck him in New Orleans of all places but I'm not American and my only experience with New Orleans is the animated princess and the frog movie so maybe I'm missing some cultural context here or smth.

- on that note, I'm not entirely sure why Helena is in New Orleans. She's very Gotham based when she's not with BOP and I like her that way. What's she doing over there and how can I get her back.

- Jason's also getting a suit upgrade. Neat. How far we've come since pillhead Jason...

- It's not gonna be copaganda!! The author has previously expressed anti-cop or cop-critical sentiments and the current Nightwing run and Far Sector have proven that DC isn't against publishing cop-critical stuff. That's good because most of Dc's cop stories are kinda bad (current NW and Far Sector excluded, obligatory everyone go read Far Sector mention)

- I am kinda worried what DC is doing with Helena. My girl deserves to be in BOP. At first I feared Kelly Thompson (obligatory everyone go read Absolute Wonder Woman mention) couldn't get her because Loeb was gonna kill her off, which is obviously not a valid concern anymore. But if Thompson couldn't get her because Helena is going to be in this run, I'm still mad. Helena can star in two comics at one time without letting the universe explode, I'm sure. Dick Grayson at least seems to manage fine appearing in like 6 comics simultaneously so I'm sure Helena can too.

- which brings me to the most worrisome thing, which is the blatant foreshadowing of a Helena/Jason romance. Which I do not want. Which nobody needs. We've seen what happened to Kory (pre flashpoint kory you'll literally always be missed) and Roy when they were forced to be Jason's friends.

Also, I'm not really sure Jason and Helena's policies are actually that similar? Look I hate every aspect of fanon JT but canon JT is not without his merits. They're few and far in between but he can be a decent character when he isn't busy being an asshole I can't stand. Anyway, I think that while yes, they do both kill that doesn't mean they're like immediately compatible. Add that to the uncomfortable history of women being flattened into cardboard cutouts to prop up men in comics (even recent ones!!) I'm not happy that a Helena/Jason romance is what they're doing. But hey maybe they'll handle it good and will treat Helena with respect! Like... it's... a... possibility... right?

yeah I think that was everything. We'll just have to wait and see but I'm like 60% sure this comic is gonna be a good Jason comic and I'm 20% sure it's gonna be good for Helena. My girl you deserve a solo or at least a BOP membership. If they won't give her to Thompson... Rucka's doing a Cheshire/Cheetah mini so I'm sure DC can get another Huntress maxi out of him. Ivory Maddison would be good too. Not sure what she's up to these days though. And I'm still holding out hope for a Tamaki Huntress ongoing. But this is maybe a good step in the right direction.

[flashfuture]

The flashes have:

• weird found family that is a mix of a found family and blood family and most of them actually truly get along and care about each other even if some of them are little sassy.

• have powers where the upper echelon of their brood, with the most power are verging on multiverse and time gods and the ones just starting out still range on the side of most destructive meta humans on earth, if they are still human at all.

• their most interesting villains are crime syndicate with a amazing dental and medical plan who usually have something approaching morals.

I think they make other heroes only a little jelly beans cause they have all these boons and they are still interesting as characters to watch.

like it's actually so crazy if you think about it. in 1938 the DC universe time began. but the way time works in DC it's easier to think of time as the addition of every second. it's static not accumulative. 1 second 1 second 1 second 1 second and on to eternity. A life is made up of seconds coming together 1 2 3 4 5 6. But this didn't happen not for 18 years. Until 1956 when Barry Allen was struck by lightning in both canon and out of universe. Things started moving Forward

(The Flash: Rebirth)

And he made the speed force. He keeps the present in the present and the rest of time away by generating the kinetic force that makes the lightning that gives the Flashes their speed.

Barry canonically moves Time forward by existing but he can also force it. He did so twice once fighting reverse flash/zoom and once fighting the turtle. When fighting Turtle, Barry connected himself to every living being except Turtle and pulled them all into the future by a few seconds to thwart his Turtley plans.

And Wally well I have a theory that Wally stores the memories the moments added together that make a life. In 1986 Barry reset the universe and everyone's minds got Fucked. Before Final Crisis when they bring back Wally from the speedforce it causes Bruce and Hal to remember Barry and incorrectly assume he's the one coming back. In 2011 when Flashpoint happened Barry did it Without Wally. Wally who was in the speedforce and got stuck again and once again everyone's backstories reset and their memories were fucked. In 2016 when Wally breaks out he returns memories to people. With Infinite Frontier this is the first universe reset where Wally's speed force is actively contributing to what happens and not only do people retain their current memories they start getting All their old memories back.

Reverse Flash represented paradoxes in time. But in the most recent run Barry phases through him giving him some speed force. And Eobard gets reset to how he should have been. Becoming connected to Barry fixes his Present. That kinetic wall between the present and time.

Bart I have no idea what they're doing with him they should be remembering that he's the best Fighter of the flashes. That he's vicious and blitzes enemies like Godspeed. Also how Bart is the most scatter brained and seemingly can not slow down unlike his grandpa and cousin. Yet he also is the only one of the entire family to be able to retain what he's learned forever. And has I think the greatest feats of cosmic awareness basically teaching himself about the meta of the DC universes reboots. Bart I think should represent the inevitability of the future coming. No matter how many changes you think you can make a future will always be there. Something to be said for him being a character created during Zero Hour year too I'm sure of it.

[gorogues]

1. What’s the most accurate/canon depiction of The Rogues relationship with each other for both pre-New 52 and post-New 52 comics? (eg what Mark is to Lisa and vice versa, what Digger is to Sam and vice versa, Len and Mick, etc until you’re done listing how everyone’s relationship with everyone else is like)

You can add others (Owen, Axel, Evan, etc) if you want, but this question is mostly aimed at the main Rogues.

2. I swear I saw a post from someone on this platform, I don’t know if it was you or somebody else, but they basically said something along the lines of: “You’d think that it would be out of character for Barry to leave his villains in Iron Heights, knowing how unethical the prison is and all. But the more I thought about it, the more I agreed that no, it isn’t actually that out of character for Barry.”

That thought has been stuck in my head ever since, and as someone who doesn’t really know Barry’s characterisation all that much (a crying shame, I know), I just wanted your opinion.

Is this statement true? I’d like to hear your reasoning for if you agree or disagree.

I didn’t know if I should keep these two questions on separate asks or not, so I just combined them both onto one. Hope you don’t mind all that much. I know it will probably take awhile to answer my questions, if you decide you want to that is. If you do then no pressure, take as much time as you want. If you decide you won’t answer, that’s also completely fine with me. Either way, hope your happy and safe wherever you are and have a good day/night.

Buckle up, because this is a long ride. To start, I'm leaving out stuff like when a Rogue was mind-controlled into doing something, or when they weren't in control of their actions due to being puppeted by Neron or Nekron (although the Black Lanterns were speaking from their victims' memories and thus may have had relevant things to say. It wasn't that person committing evil acts, however). That stuff wasn't voluntary, though of course the people harmed by them during those periods might not see it that way.

--Pre-Flashpoint--

Lisa and Len: Their relationship has varied depending on the era. In the Bronze Age they were often indifferent and sometimes hostile to each other (she didn't seem upset about Len's purported death), but occasionally got along well. After Crisis they frequently worked together and were generally friendly, but tensions built and things turned bad -- originally, Lisa was intended to have murdered her brother for his cold gun, but that was nixed in favour of her just stealing it. By the Johns era she was dead and Len was overtly mourning her, and we'd see in retconned flashbacks that they were very close due to their shared traumatic upbringing. One flashback showed her saying she'd become a criminal to be like her big brother, although Bronze Age comics were quite clear that she did it to avenge her dead boyfriend.

Lisa and Mark: They didn't interact much (just a few issues), but she poisoned him in one story to get him to do her bidding. It doesn't seem like they were close.

Lisa and Digger: Again, they didn't interact much, but she poisoned him in one story to get him to do her bidding. After she died, the tabloids claimed that she and Digger had a secret love-child -- which wasn't true -- but maybe they had more interactions that we never saw. Or maybe the tabloids just assumed Lisa was the mother because she was the only female Rogue in those days.

Lisa and Sam: They never interacted with each other back in the day, but in a later retcon Lisa wanted to be introduced to him because he was "cute".

Lisa and Roscoe: They were dating, and were very close. Eventually death separated them several times and they didn't get back together for unknown reasons.

Lisa and Mick: She and Len once tried to kill Mick in the Bronze Age, but he doesn't seem to have held a grudge; the three of them got along fine after Crisis, and they worked and socialized together. In the Johns era we saw an early flashback of Mick being exceptionally rude to Len about Lisa, so maybe their early relations weren't always great.

Lisa and Hartley: They only appeared in a few stories together, and in one (Blue Devil #30) they didn't interact much but seemed friendly. In DC Retro-Active: The Flash: 1980s they got along quite well, and seemed to get along when the heroes were rescuing Wally from the Turtle Man. Overall they were civil and friendly with each other.

Lisa and James: They co-existed well enough at Len's party, but she later poisoned him to get him to do her bidding. And the relationship between James and the Rogues (including her) was rather sour in Blue Devil. They seemed terse with each other at best.

Len and Mark: Len's been kind and supportive to Mark over the years, especially since taking over the team's dad role, but interestingly he didn't list Mark amongst the Rogues he liked. (There was also a panel in which Len listed Mark amongst three Rogues who were his "real family", but that was right after saying he was glad Lisa was dead -- it was from Johns' first arc and he quickly retconned his own work). Mark seems to like him, and trusted him enough to confess to Clyde's killing. The two had a good relationship of mutual support in Rogues' Revenge, which was probably the best they've ever had and the closest they've been.

Len and Digger: In Len's spotlight issue, he claimed Digger was one of the few Rogues he liked. They did get along well, including working together outside of the Rogues/Central City, though Len didn't treat Digger very kindly near the end of his life. Len was also cool-to-hostile to him after he returned from the dead and wanted to rejoin the Rogues, and actually beat the shit out of him (admittedly Digger had just done something stupid). That said, Len wistfully said "what are friends for, eh, Digger?" when Digger was dead and told Owen that Digger "was one of…my friends", so it seems Len always did retain a soft spot for him even despite his growling. He was probably taking a tough-love approach, even if he was a jerk about it.

Len and Sam: They got along fine before Sam was killed, and even liked each other enough to work together outside of the Rogues/Central City. They didn't seem close or anything, but Sam was one of the few Rogues Len said he liked in his spotlight issue.

Len and Roscoe: They seemed to get along okay or were mostly indifferent to each other before Roscoe died, but after his death Len made it very clear he didn't miss him (although interestingly, Len seemed sad at his funeral). This may be because Roscoe had recently tried to kill the other Rogues if they messed with his plan after he'd died (which they did), but the fact that Roscoe dated Len's sister surely didn't help. By the Johns era the two of them hated each other, and Len opted not to treat Roscoe like he did most Rogues -- leaving him to languish in prison and not helping him when he clearly needed it. Things eventually devolved to Roscoe threatening to mind-control the other Rogues to make them fall in line, and Len killed him. Afterwards, we learned that at some point in earlier history Len had turned the other Rogues against Roscoe to become the group's leader, but unfortunately we don't know the details of what happened.

Len and Mick: A very complicated relationship, which goes from friendly to openly hostile and back again…sometimes within the same issue. Mick said he got along with all the Rogues but Len, which is basically true, and Len was a major reason Mick spent long periods estranged from the Rogues. In the Bronze Age, Len (and Lisa) tried to kill Mick, and previously Len had tried to traumatize Mick by manipulating him into killing an innocent person. Len's been openly insulting to Mick at times, who'd then retaliate in kind, but Len has also been supportive and helpful with Mick's many psychological issues. Sometimes Len watched out for his well-being in ways nobody else did. The end result is a complicated and not very healthy frenemy relationship between them, though they generally work well together with their complementary tech.

Len and Hartley: They seemed to get along okay until Hartley reformed (though there was a flashback to Len being callous to him in the early days), but Len's been low-key hostile to him ever since. There must be an underlying reason for it, because Len didn't really treat other reformed Rogues that way (even if he wasn't always thrilled with them) and I think he just doesn't like Hartley.

Len and James: In Len's spotlight issue, he said James was one of the few Rogues he liked. Which is interesting because I've never seen a particular bond between the two of them, but Len did accept James back quite readily after a long period of reform (which even involved fighting against the Rogues as part of the FBI). James doesn't seem to have much fondness for Len though, and has cheerfully tricked and pranked him a few times.

Mark and Sam: They seem to have gotten along okay, though they didn't interact much.

Mark and Digger: They were generally quite friendly to each other, though Mark didn't have the nicest things to say about Digger after he'd died. The Rogues can be like that with each other, however, so it might not really mean anything.

Mark and Mick: They didn't interact much but got along well when they were on the same side. However, the two of them have frequently been on opposing sides (or at least one was reformed and one wasn't), so there may have been ongoing tension between them from the time of Mick's first stint with reform. But things were fine between them when Mick rejoined the Rogues after that, so it seems like there was no lingering grudge.

Mark and Roscoe: They didn't interact much but seemed to get along okay. In Blackest Night, Roscoe's zombie (which wasn't actually him, but had his memories) spoke flatteringly to Mark and reminded him that at some unspecified point they'd once planned to take out Len and run the Rogues together, which was a bombshell never addressed again. They probably would have turned on each other if the plan ever came to fruition, but there was either mutual respect or some intended backstabbing going on there.

Mark and Hartley: They seemed to get along reasonably well back in the day, though many Rogues were frosty to Hartley after he reformed and Mark was probably no different. Hartley didn't seem as though he had fond feelings for Mark after reforming, as he was pretty apathetic when he saw Mark distressed in Iron Heights and potentially exposed to a lethal virus, and Hartley was as cold to the Rogues when he 'returned' undercover as they were to him. It's not clear whether Hartley knew Mark was part of the Rogues who'd killed his parents and framed him for it, or if he'd even blame Mark for that since Mark wasn't directly involved in the scheme. But it's fair to say that they didn't get along well from at least the Johns era until Flashpoint.

Mark and James: They got along well before Crisis, and socialized in a friendly manner up into the Waid era. But things had probably changed by the time James joined the FBI, in which he was working to take down the Rogues (including Mark). James rejoined the Rogues in the aftermath of Rogue War and interacted civilly with them, though he was openly contemptuous of their behaviour in Countdown and we later learned that he was there undercover. I think it's likely James didn't have particularly warm feelings for Mark or most of the others, and perhaps there was just too much bad blood before James was killed and the universe soon rebooted.

Roscoe and Mick: They didn't interact much but seemed to get along okay; they looked cheery when chatting during a flashback in Mick's spotlight issue. However, Mick's narration stated that he got along with Roscoe even though Roscoe talked over everyone's heads, so it seems probable that Mick tolerated him more than liked him.

Roscoe and Digger: They got along well before Crisis, but haven't been shown interacting since. Both have done personality 180s since Crisis, and I can't imagine either of their newer personalities would like or even tolerate the other, so they probably wouldn't get along and likely avoided each other. Roscoe did attend Digger's funeral, though.

Roscoe and James: In the Silver/Bronze Ages they never actually interacted with each other on panel, though they must have met behind the scenes because James was at Roscoe's funeral and complained about his sense of humour. (We've also seen a flashback of them together from a comic published later.) And James spoke dismissively of him after his death, calling him the least of the Rogues. It's difficult to say what their relationship was, though James clearly wasn't impressed by him, and probably wasn't thrilled with Roscoe when his mind-whammy was undone…and Roscoe died soon after, so they never spoke again before the universe was rebooted. It doesn't seem to have been a good relationship, but we've seen so little of their interactions.

Roscoe and Hartley: They seemed to get along okay before Roscoe died, but things took an ugly turn after he'd returned and Hartley had reformed. Roscoe tried to goad Hartley into killing a presidential candidate and then tried to frame him for it, and did so by being a homophobic asshole to him and Hartley understandably thought he was a monster. My opinion, based on what Roscoe said in the issue, is that he was trying to seriously rile up Hartley to accomplish his plan and might not have actually believed the stuff he said…but it doesn't change that he said and did it, and was in fact acting like a monster. What's interesting is that later (in the Johns era) Hartley was lamenting having no living family left, and Roscoe told him "You still have family. Me for one." Which was probably cold comfort and Hartley wouldn't agree, but it's still very interesting that Roscoe would say that.

Roscoe and Sam: Roscoe was generally quite friendly to Sam, but Sam tricked him into losing a million dollar bet and left him to die in a booby-trapped prison, so Roscoe resentfully helped Barry ruin Sam's plan. Roscoe secretly swore to get payback, but never seems to have acted on it and Sam screwed him over again by later stealing his loot. For whatever reason, Sam was the Rogue that Roscoe chose to inform of his death, though he also had a scheme to blow up the Rogues if they messed with his revenge plan (which they did). They had a weird relationship, but I think Roscoe liked Sam more than the other Rogues.

Sam and Digger: They were generally great pals, despite some hiccups here and there -- Digger was a dick to Sam in Gotham and then tried to hypnotize him into doing his dirty work. Sam was pissed enough that he tried to get a cop to shoot Digger dead. But otherwise they got along quite well and worked/socialized together even outside the Rogues and Central City, and after Sam died his costume and tech ended up in Digger's hands and he used them to commit incognito crimes. The other Rogues were furious (not knowing who was doing it), but Digger thought Sam would appreciate the joke, and he was probably right.

Sam and James: They mostly got along okay, although Sam robbed James of his loot once, and all the Rogues of the late Bronze Age tended to snarl at each other for some reason.

Sam and Hartley: Their relationship didn't seem particularly notable until Hartley was hospitalized for a nervous breakdown, and then Sam and Digger went in disguise to free him. Both were somewhat dismissive of Hartley, claiming he wasn't a great pal or anything, but the Rogues sometimes do that to downplay their feelings (perhaps to seem like tough guys?) and they went to a fair bit of effort to spring someone they didn't really care about. They obviously cared.

Sam and Mick: They seemed to get along well before Mick had a traumatic experience and left the Rogues. We don't know what Sam thought about Mick's reform.

Digger and James: They generally got along in a friendly jocular manner before Crisis, though one time Digger disapproved of James trying to unmask an apparently-deceased Flash and kicked him for it…they ended up squabbling and yelling at each other. After Crisis, Digger turned his back and suggested that the Rogues should let James fall to his death. Later, after Digger had been away from the Rogues a long time and James had reformed, Digger repeatedly begged him for money and James completely cut him off, calling him a "mooch". So perhaps relations soured after their time apart.

Digger and Hartley: As noted above, Digger and Sam went to some trouble to free Hartley from lock-up. That aside, they didn't have a good relationship; Digger criticized Hartley's battle tactics and Hartley thought poorly of Digger's intelligence even before Crisis, and we know that Digger made a lot of shitty comments/jokes about Hartley's sexuality. And Digger was openly hostile when he saw Hartley at Linda Park's funeral. Post-Crisis' Digger's personality is obnoxious enough that he'd definitely get on Hartley's nerves (and vice versa, to be honest), so it's no surprise they don't get along.

Digger and Mick: They seemed to get along well, though as noted above Mick could get along with almost everyone. Digger may not have appreciated Mick's stints of reform, but he still accepted the situation when Mick sometimes returned to hang out with the guys, so maybe it didn't even bother him. And Mick was willing to lend him money (likely knowing he wouldn't get it back) after James cut him off, with a bit of gentle chiding about getting his shit together. They appear to have had a good relationship.

James and Hartley: Best friends, at least when they're being written properly; we'll leave Countdown out of this because we all know how OOC it was. James was friendly with Hartley when they were both Rogues (it's not known whether he knew Hartley's sexuality then, but he might have), and he accepted Hartley once Hart had reformed and become a pariah to the Rogues and was openly gay. Later Hartley was accused of murdering his parents and James refused to help him when he was on the lam, but it's very possible that was due to the general mind control James was under, so it's debatable whether that was really his fault. Ditto for James basically press-ganging Hartley and Mick into the FBI. Either way, all those shenanigans aside, they're very good friends who like, accept, and trust each other. James also left his will and data for taking down the Rogues to Hartley, and told him that the information was hidden from everyone else by invisible ink.

James and Mick: They've never seemed particularly close, but later in life developed the commonality of reform or semi-reform and both are quite easy to get along with. As stated above, James drafted Mick and Hartley into the FBI and that may not have been their choice, but James was supportive of Mick's mental health and ensured he received plenty of psychological support…which was definitely necessary. He also encouraged Mick to train and remain physically healthy, so overall he was very considerate of his needs and well-being. They weren't close after the two of them went back to the Rogues, but that may have been because Mick sincerely wanted to return and James was (apparently) undercover. Overall they had a friendly and supportive relationship, despite some occasional bumps.

Hartley and Mick: Their relationship before Crisis wasn't particularly notable one way or another, but in the Johns era they were firm friends and allies during a time when most of the Rogues neither liked nor accepted Hartley. Hartley was a fugitive at the time, and Mick was the only person willing to help him with no questions asked. They later worked well together at the FBI, but weren't close when Mick rejoined the Rogues.

--Post-Flashpoint--

Digger and all other Rogues: Only Digger and Len have had significant interactions, and that story inexplicably depicted them as not knowing each other. However, a later issue showed Len offering Digger a place with the Rogues via text message.

Roscoe and all other Rogues: He's only interacted with them in passing, although Len tried to kill him again so it seems their relationship hasn't improved :>

James and all the other Rogues: He's only interacted with them in passing (aside from Axel), and he mind-controlled them into doing his bidding so there's probably no love between them and him. A past version of him also worked on the Legion of Zoom with the Snarts, but they were cool towards each other.

Lisa and Len: For a while she blamed and hated him for giving the Rogues metahuman powers, which left her seriously injured/ill and her boyfriend trapped in the Mirrorverse, but those problems are over now and the two are fairly close despite occasional differences. She opposed his regime during "Year of the Villain", but still cared about his safety and his conscience, and she broke him out of custody after his defeat. For his part, Len made a lot of mistakes during the New 52 and was selfish at times, but he went to great lengths to keep her safe and healthy during her illness.

Lisa and Sam: They almost got married and were very close through many struggles, but eventually broke up and she's been cool towards him since. He reacted by becoming a sullen hedonist, and their breakup is probably a big part of why he's not been with the Rogues for a while.

Lisa and Marco: He admired and respected her and wanted her to be team leader before seemingly falling back towards Len's leadership. They treat each other with mutual respect, though he put her life at risk in Rogues Rebellion when he'd had enough of the ongoing shenanigans. He later returned to do the right thing and help her and the others.

Lisa and Mick: He's frequently been surly towards her as he is with everyone else, but clearly cares about her and treats her with about as much respect as he has for anyone.

Lisa and Hartley: The first time they interacted on panel, Lisa got revenge on him for being a "traitor", but later that was forgotten and he went to a fair bit of trouble to keep her safe from danger. His narration stated that she'd supported him and helped him come out to the other Rogues before the New 52 began, indicating that they'd been good friends, so I don't know if they ever reconciled the 'traitor' thing or he simply let it go.

Len and Sam: They had/have something of an uneasy relationship because Sam was dating Len's sister, and Len was responsible for tearing them apart and nearly getting her killed…and after getting through all that, Lisa and Sam broke up and left Len somewhat in the middle. But Len has much better relations with Sam than he had with Roscoe before Flashpoint, and they mostly treat each other with friendliness and respect. But there's obviously anger and tension at times too.

Len and Mick: An extremely hostile relationship throughout most of the New 52, though Mick calmed down somewhat in Rebirth. All the meta Rogues were angry at Len, but Mick took it to another level of resentment and bitter violence. That's mostly behind them now, but Mick's still somewhat surly and it's probably a legacy of what happened to him. Len, on the other hand, didn't really take much responsibility for what he did to the other Rogues who weren't Lisa, and it's not surprising his relationship with Mick wasn't good. However, when the Sage Force was sorting out Mick's trauma it (or his mind) conjured up 'Len' to talk sense to him and calm him down, and by "Year of the Villain" Mick proclaimed that Len was his best friend, so obviously the situation significantly improved over time.

Len and Marco: They formerly had a terse relationship due to resentment about metahuman powers, though they seem to be on good terms now that it's behind them. Marco can be moody though, so that's probably a challenge at times.

Len and Hartley: They haven't interacted much, though Hartley saved Len from dying in an accident and Len seemed happy to see him -- but he also wanted Hartley to let him go, so maybe he was just buttering him up. Hartley was working as a hero at the time, so he wouldn't budge even for old times' sake.

Marco and Sam: Their relations have ranged from friendly to antagonistic during times of stress, but overall they treat each other with respect and have a brotherly relationship. They seem like actual friends.

Marco and Mick: Mick's intense anger issues and Marco's brooding moodiness was kind of a match made in hell and probably why they've never been close. They seem to get along okay now that Mick has mellowed a lot.

Marco and Hartley: They haven't interacted much.

Mick and Hartley: They haven't interacted much.

Mick and Sam: Mick was surly to everyone for most of the New 52, though his relationship with Sam in Rogues Rebellion was surprisingly positive and friendly. Sam tried to talk sense and the brotherhood of Rogues to Mick, who mostly dismissed him but still sacrificed himself to save the others, showing that Sam had gotten through to him. Mick later turned up alive, and was afterwards restored psychologically and physically by the Sage Force, which calmed him down significantly. But Sam turned into a jerk after he broke up with Lisa, and Mick yelled at him for it and finally got through to him somewhat, indicating that both of them listen to the other and are the better for it. Their relationship has never been warm and fuzzy, but it seems like there's enough respect to get the other guy to be better, and for both to accept advice.

Sam and Hartley: They were friendly during their interactions, which makes sense because Hartley was helping to save Lisa.

Question 2: I swear I saw a post from someone on this platform, I don’t know if it was you or somebody else, but they basically said something along the lines of: “You’d think that it would be out of character for Barry to leave his villains in Iron Heights, knowing how unethical the prison is and all. But the more I thought about it, the more I agreed that no, it isn’t actually that out of character for Barry.” That thought has been stuck in my head ever since, and as someone who doesn’t really know Barry’s characterisation all that much (a crying shame, I know), I just wanted your opinion. Is this statement true? I’d like to hear your reasoning for if you agree or disagree.

This is a bit of a tricky question, because Iron Heights was introduced and got most of its panel time when Barry was dead, so he wasn't around for the 'heyday' of its development when Ashley Zolomon and Wally West grappled with what was going on inside. We don't know what his position would have been before Flashpoint, though I don't think he would have liked it. Classic Barry was very much a law and order type (a cop, obviously), but that was in the days when prison brutality generally wasn't addressed in comics. We do know he was horrified by what was done to Clive Yorkin, which was an experimental and arguably cruel treatment of a prisoner.

But there's no question that Iron Heights has been around since Barry came back, that there's been abuse shown on-panel since then, and he hasn't really done anything about it. He was shocked by what happened to Axel in solitary and seemed like he was going to rescue him, but that just kind of petered out and it was Kristen Kramer and David Singh who did the work to stop Wolfe. I do think that's out of character….to a point. There's no question he's a cop and someone who follows the rules more often than, say, Wally. But that can also work both ways, and overt cruelty and harsh punishment isn't following the rule of law either. I think Barry wouldn't lose sleep if Wolfe took away prisoners' material comforts and privileges, even if we think that's wrong, but IMO he should find a beaten prisoner or a prisoner with his prosthetic arm removed unacceptable and take action. He's a person who has shown mercy towards reformed and even completely unrepentant villains before, and he's not perfect, but nobody is.

TL;DR I don't agree with how Barry's Iron Heights plot was handled.

[mazzystar24]

Ok, so I FINALLLYYY got to mid season 5 where Tim and Lucy kind of get together. It was so nice to see Tim finally smile this season

Now that I think about I now I realize why I got hooked up in their dynamic! I watched another cop long ago (Flashpoint) where you could see Chenford happening in Canadian font

I kinda feel bad for Chris, though. He was so sweet

Ahhhhh yess love them

Okay now I low-key need to watch Canadian Chenford

I fear I am a Chris hater tho, like when he was singing dream a little dream?? Sir how do you watch another person let alone your damn girlfriend in a barrel about to die and that song gets stuck in your mind not in the god that’s so unsettling and traumatising way but in a hum along while you make coffee way? Not to mention you’re a wholeass lawyer and regularly work with victims you should have at least some like sort of forethought

AAGHDJF TOTALLY DIDNT ASK FOR THAT RANT BUT IN CONCLUSION THAT MAN IS AN OP SINCE THAT SCENE FOR ME

Tim would never🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Plus he’s plain annoying- like when he was first introduced I can’t remember the specifics but like where he was charging more extremely? Wesley oughtta beat his ass with a law book or like where after the Rosalind thing, he joins some weird fucking online forum AND DISCLOSES INFO IN THE CHAT instead of idc talking abt it with the multitudes of people around him who had traumas similar happen to them or been directly involved with Rosalind or idc JUST GOING TO THERAPY

HAJSKFK okay that’s the end of it fr this time I swear AHJDKF

I’m just a hater guys I can’t help it