#wally only really got some paint splatters on him.....

[chez-cinnamon]

AUGHH The site update was sooooo good- It motivated me to finish something I've been wanting to do for a while now: tweak and redesign the RW AU designs!!

Looking at the old one it's crazy to see how far they've come, being around before the Halloween update-- idk it's fun to see, same w my art style changes!! <3

Linking the old just for comparison,,,,,

[gasha40k]

It’s looking exceptionally bloody out here. Lots of good progress on my Khorne lads recently, and lots of good reading progress, too!

To start, I’m now about 3/4ths of the way through Khârn: Eater of Worlds, and it’s going pretty good so far! Lots of murder, which is par for the course for a World Eaters book. I like how the book expounds upon the Legion and its structuring quite a bit, as it’s one of the only Heresy-era novels where we get to see the Legion without Khârn or Angron. I like the Caedere a lot, I like how Dreagher is a normal person, and I like the human apothecary, Skoral, and her cool ceramite arm. I’m excited to see how it ends, but that’s enough book club.

A living myth known by countless infernal titles across the stars—the Apostate Scion, Betrayer of Valefar, Exile of the 8th, Deserter Lord—yet who himself claims none, Lord Akselos is a nigh-untouchable killer whose very name heralds the singlehanded slaughtering of entire worlds.

This is the Deserter Lord Akselos. Akselos was introduced to the blog a handful of posts ago when I first built him, but since then, I’ve not only fleshed out much of his backstory, but I’ve also given him a coat of paint and a nice base to go with it.

Billowing black cloak and beckoning hand for Khorne worshipping purposes, and definitely not because he is a bitter and melodramatic individual

I’m really happy with this mini. It may not be my best paint job, but I think it’s a solid kitbash, and all together, I think that he looks super cool. I am definitely satisfied with how he turned out. The painting isn’t super advanced but it’s cohesive and pleasing to the eye. This model also gave me a few challenges, primarily painting white. I’ve only used Wraithbone so I was a bit horrified using Corax White, but I think it turned out pretty okay.

Another challenge was figuring out how I’d base him. Because I want most of my World Eaters army to be visually similar, I figured that whatever base Akselos got would be the same base that I’d give my other World Eaters, so I had to decide on what would best fit both him and the rest of the army. I decided on some black, sort of mountainous rubble-rock with inlaid skulls (for Khorne, of course). I’m going to go over this and place some little patches of Valhallan White to break up the grey and I’m going to splatter the blood paint on the white snow, but this’ll definitely do for now.

Of his many names, Akselos is known most bitterly as Oathbreaker by the Ultramarines 8th Company, or at least by those few that remain in the 8th who still remember him.

I tried to keep the visual theme of asymmetry pretty strong throughout this model. Akselos’ soul is deeply conflicted, and has been for some centuries now. Currently, he is torn between two existences: that of the renegade Ultramarine, desperate for vengeance, and that of the Saint of Khorne, struggling to ascend attachment.

His right arm is made of Ultramarine bits. The Macraggean pauldron and Tacticus arm are all that remain of his old armor. Akselos wears this defiled heraldry as both a constant memento of his shame and a constant reminder of his hatred.

His left arm consists of Eightbound bits, who are the most daemonic units in the World Eaters roster. It’s visibly more corrupted than the rest of his body. After losing his human arm in a particularly desperate battle, the Ruinous Powers gifted Akselos with this charcoal black replacement. He pays for the gift by frequently nourishing it with the blood of the slain.

This won’t be Akselos’ actual squad, his escort squad will be a bunch of similarly white-headed Berzerkers built with Legionairy bodies to represent that they’re more renegade than WE

Akselos isn’t alone, though! I’ve officially “finished” my first squad of World Eaters. Again, the bases aren’t quite done. I’m going to add bloodstained Valhallan Snow to essentially all of these. I may also do place transfers here and there, and I’m definitely going to highlight Wally and Akselos, but the models and bases are done to a reasonable standard and I’m satisfied with calling them finished.

Shoutout to Wally he’s a day one

Here’s the squad leader, Kardon the Eternal, otherwise known as Wally the World Eater. Kardon is a veteran of unknowable age. Some claim that he fought for Khârn after Terra, some that he’s a hero from the Great Crusade, but all agree that he has been alive for millennia with the sole purpose of claiming skulls for Khorne. I think he’s a neat little homage kitbash and a solid paint job. Kardon looks purposely kinda simple so that he can either fit with a larger squad of 10 Berzerkers or lead a smaller squad of 5.

This is his squad of 5! Not much to say about the rest of these bozos, except that the first guy had a bit of a “stepped on” incident and I lost the haft of his axe, so he wields a little chain hatchet now. I like to think that the axe actually started as a two-handed Eviscerator, and over time, this guy has slowly whittled it down into a baby axe by hitting shit with it way too hard.

That’s all I got for now. Very happy with where this army is going. I hope to soon get my hands on Angron, and that’ll be a huge fucking chore, but it’s super exciting because I’d love to field that man. Beastly unit and awesome character. With Khârn, Invocatus, and Angron, I’ll only need Azrakh the Annihilator to finish my World Eaters canon character collection, and I’ll only need… a lot more units to boost my collection to 2,000pts. I’m hoping to eventually get my hands on the Combat Patrol to bolster my numbers, but that won’t be for a while since I’m a broke ass bitch. Thanks!

[river-bottom-nightmare]

BLUEPULSE HEADCANONS GO GOGOGOOG

OKAY OKAY I LOVE BLUEPULSE SO THIS SHOULD BE FUN

because of being super malnourished all his life, bart always stayed skinny, just a slip of a thing. and he never really grew out of it. so instead of holding hands, jaime likes to loop his hand around bart’s wrist, encircling it all the way with room to spare.

once he had time to relax after coming to the past, bart got really really into music. the melodies seemed to form tangible lines, loops, and swirls through the air, winding their way through people, coiling around jaime, before spiraling around bart’s head into his heart. he had headphones on constantly, either on his head or looped around his neck to use at moment’s notice. to get his attention, jaime would tap a little rhythm on the headphone covers with his fingertips. when they’re alone, bart likes to play songs from his phone at full blast and dance with jaime, and even though he’s a flailing, thrashing mess spazzing his way around jaime’s hesitant, refined dancing he learned from his tio, they’re both laughing and laughing and laughing

milagro teaches bart how to make friendship bracelets, and once he masters them, there’s no going back. bart can spend hours threading his fingers through the strands, swift and sure, like fish darting in and out of anemone. he gifts almost all of his bracelets to jaime, who wears every single one of them on a rotating basis

jaime tutored at the local middle school when he was in high school, and when he went to college, he kept the habit up. watching jaime’s kind smile and reassuring voice teach the other kids never failed to make bart smile with how sweet jaime was. of course, jaime also tutored bart in a couple things, because while he was a genius in most subjects, languages had never been his forte. it’s a trade off: bart’s got the motivation for finishing certain assignments or memorizing lists because he knows jaime will reward him handsomely when he’s done. but also, it makes it really really hard to focus when jaime’s whispering spanish into his ear. and no, bart can’t understand him, but with that grin on his face? there’s only so many things he can be saying

jaime gets an undercut. bart spends two weeks proclaiming loudly to anyone who will listen that he hates it. then jaime offhandedly remarks that if it’s so bad, he’ll either grow it out or shave it all off. bart shrieks, with enough force to rival black canary, and jaime watches on with fond amusement as bart makes him swear to never get rid of that haircut ever again

bart’s hair is one big floofball. he doesn’t even use a special shampoo or conditioner or anything, it’s just got more volume than the moon. it’s also so soft, jaime loves running his hands through it. and it gets in the way all the time, but no one understands how it doesn’t really bother bart, and why he isn’t fighting the need to pull it up with a hairtie every three seconds

bart likes taking a sharpie and drawing designs all over his shoes. once he asked jaime if he wanted to do it too, and jaime shrugged and went why not? so now they’ve got matching marker-scribbled shoes. the laces are splattered in paint because bart decided he liked the paint splattered look, too

jaime can not cook to save his life. bart mock-offendedly gasps and says your abuela would be so disappointed in you! jaime raises an eyebrow and says “my abuela is sexist and really only teaches milagro how to cook, since she thinks i don’t really need to. milagro hates it. me and mami are working on changing her social views. it’s a work in progress.” bart blinks for a minute, before announcing “alright what i got out of that is that between the two of us, i need to learn how to cook.”

bart does, indeed, learn how to cook. joan garrick teaches him oldies but goodies. iris hates cooking for anyone but barry and close family because she doesn’t like seeming like a stereotypical “wife” but she makes some absolutely killer recipes and she knows it, so she teaches bart a few. and after a while, when wally and bart start getting along shut up wally isn’t dead shUT UP wally teaches him a couple food hacks that he loves. 

[dreamfisher-here]

Weekly Asks #10

It’s obvious from the side it’s lying on, as well as that splatter of ink on its inner side.

By the way, have you ever noticed that “Not Monsters” handprint on the wall? It seems that the Ink Demon was not the only creature, which ransacked the place... I wonder what did this one steal?

They even left something behind inside the administration. If you follow the handprints, you can find one of the boxes from the Vault lying right next to Wally’s audio log.

I assume they were also the one, who flooded the corridor and removed the pipes, to prevent anyone from going back in. Or out, for that matter. This must have been already after the five-fingered creature escaped the Ink Machine. Curiously, this isn’t the same individual - the number of fingers doesn’t match. Who the heck is this guy, then?!

My best guess would be the Safehouse Creature. That one was depicted with 4 fingers, and it had its right arm cut off, which fits the handprint, as it’s the handprint of a left hand - meaning it was either made by a left-handed creature, or by a one-handed one.

To be fair, he did say 'how did this place get so big?' back in chapter 2.

But, continuing your line of thought, his line about his old desk in chapter 5 could imply that he had two desks and he really did live imprisoned inside the studio at some point. If the missing part of Tombstone Picnic was indeed Henry's cameo, as Adobe speculated, Joey may have tried to create an ink Henry as far back as in the 40s. He may even have gone so far as to create multiple Henrys, similarly to creating multiple Alices and Borises.

BTW, Mike previously said on his Twitter that '30 years ago' refers to 1933, which is two years after Henry's departure. Sure, maybe they changed their minds about the date (noisy data and stuff), but it fits perfectly with the date on Joey's calendar (1963), which is an awfully suspicious coincidence. It makes me wonder whether Henry eventually returned to the studio at some point during the 30s.

I hacked through every door in the game. I scoured the code and the assets. There are no locations in any of the chapters that we haven't explored already, except maybe chapter 3, but that has no relation to the pool in chapter 2.

Maybe it doesn't make a difference to them? Ultimately, Henry's journey is still the same, regardless of which path he chooses.

As Susie said: he was always a good liar.

Yup. Not to mention surviving an elevator fall. Should be impossible for a human. And, of course, the ink death tunnel and the inky borders whenever he gets hurt.

Let's not get too attached to the ink child == Henry theory. It has its own set of problems. Such as - how does a child made of ink become an adult? At what point did he go from 'uncle Joey' to 'my old friend'?.

Maybe a blob of sentient ink, and a barn full of monsters, are not a satisfying substitute for a wife and child? Can an ink child ever really grow up? How long until they flip out from loneliness and misery?

Nah, it most likely refers to the sealed up vending machines. Joey must've done it to prevent the employees from taking the drinks at his expense. 

Or he was apprehensive because he knew that disrespecting the miracle stations is dangerous for him. We don't know what compels the ink creatures to ignore them, but both times when someone ignored the rules, they got punished.

Could be. Hard to say. For all we know, it might not be in any physical place inside the real world. At the very least, I doubt that the door in Joey’s kitchen lead to an underground bunker, except maybe through a magic portal.

The newspaper texture is too blurry to make out anything other than the headline, which is most likely not real. But, considering that it's inside Joey's house, and Joey is broke and disabled, so he probably doesn't travel much, we can safely bet that it refers to his own town. 

Looks like generic paint texture to me. If there's anything else in there, then I can't see it. 

Definitely, yeah. Joey wouldn't sabotage his own ink machine. Plus, anyone who feels the need to make a long speech about being in control, doesn't really have control over anything. And it's not like he's good at telling when someone is lying to him - he's never noticed that his doctor of 30 years is a fraud.

I'm praying it's not an AU. Not that I wouldn't like to play a BATIM AU, but an AU won't answer any of the questions I still have about the first game. I need some answers first, before I can move on to a new story.

Are you asking whether the ink machine is possessed by some kind of demon? Could be. We never found out anything about Joey's 'Gods', and of course, that demon inside the Ink Demon had to come from somewhere.

[trashboatprince]

Time for another one-shot of Beast Bendy’s time in the studio as a little toon.

Dober, if you want me to change anything, let me know, I’m just going with my own headcanon on Bendy’s creation from the Ink Machine for this.

On with the fic!

--

Thomas Conner never expected that when he was hired by Joey Drew to work on installing things, that he’d eventually find himself involved in creating life through machinery and animation and not in the way it was done upstairs.

Months and thousands of dollars went into rebuilding the inside of the studio. Parts were left the same, but many others were completely rebuilt from scratch. Upstairs, in an area once used for offices, had been converted into a whole new room for a big project, the Ink Machine, designed by Wally Franks. However, the one that stood before Thomas now was the prototype, the one that he had designed with Joey and Wally, to show GENT what it was that they were investing in and having sponsorship with.

The machine was meant to produce more and more ink, enough for the animators to use for years to come without ever spending a dime to any ink-producing companies. It was obviously a huge expense to save a couple hundred bucks, that’s what Tom thought, until Joey began explaining more and more of what else it was going to do.

‘Bring life to the cartoons’, he had happily announced when the mechanic asked about any other purposes for the Ink Machine.

Don’t animators do that already? With all those drawings and music and stuff?

Nope, no, no, no! Joey had shook his head, getting too close to Thomas, as he loudly informed him that he was literally going to bring life to the cartoons.

Thomas left and came back a week later because the higher ups forced him to come back to the crazy man and his little studio.

If it wasn’t for the pretty girl who worked in the sound department, Thomas wouldn’t bother dealing with listening to Joey’s plans and ideas for using magic and shit to make cartoon characters into living beings. That lovely angel kept him from also strangling Drew.

Oh Allison, you are a saving grace...

The man stared at the machine in front of him. This wasn’t going to work, this was completely stupid and pointless. He looked over at Wally, who looked nervous as he fumbled with the controls of the machine. The studio’s man projectionist, Norman Polk, stood nearby, holding a tin with a cartoon reel inside of it.

“Where’s Drew?” Thomas asked, crossing his arms.

“He said he couldn’t come for the tests, remember? He has that week-long trip he’s on, so we’re just gonna have to do it all ourselves. Says he trusts us completely.” Wally grunted as he tried to turn a loose bolt on the machine, gotta make sure it doesn’t explode on them.

“I doubt it’s gonna work,” Norman sighed, drumming his fingers on the tin, “but if Mr. Drew thinks it’ll make any sort of progress... can’t help but to try it, ya know?”

Thomas scoffed, looking around the room. There had been ink-painted circles and symbols all over, including on the floor, under the nozzle of the machine. The air was freezing inside the room, and the lights were terribly dim, poor Wally had to hold a flashlight in his mouth as he worked.

The information that Joey had given them over the month since the machine’s completion was basically summed up as ‘put the reel into the machine, speak the incantation, and let the ink flow’.

Sounded simple enough, but this was nonsense. Whatever, as Wally puts it, Joey signs the checks, might as well do this to humor him. He glanced at the doorway, knowing that upstairs was the offering room, set up with what Joey claimed as ‘gifts to the gods’ for this project. Thomas was surprised that they weren’t using the big Ink Machine that Wally had designed, but then again, gotta try the prototype first. Plus, the new machine was still in construction, can’t use it if it wasn’t fully up to speed. 

The switch in the offering room, once the break room, had been flipped already, the pipes were flowing with ink and they were gonna back up and explode if Franks didn’t finish!

“Done!” Wally grinned, stepping back. “Now for da reel, Mista Polk!” He held out a hand and Norman rolled his eyes, giving it to Wally, telling the janitor to be careful.

From what Tom knew, the cartoon was the very first one that was distributed to the public, The Dancing Demon. He had only seen it once, when he got stuck watching it in the theater room with some of the other employees. It was simple, just that Bendy character, dancing to a song, before the tune changes and he just goes nuts with his dancing, only to get pulled off the stage by a cane.

Well, almost gets pulled off. His head is taken away, but his body remains and happily continues to dance.

It was dumb and silly, but people like it, and it’s the movie that Joey insisted be used. Though, there was a bitter tone to his voice when he said that it had to be that one, it had some guy name Henry involved with it. A bit of asking around and Tom found out that Henry was the original animator for the studio and co-founder, lucky bastard escaped this place when he had the chance.

He watched as Wally inserted the reel into the machine, looking at the giant ink tank with a nervous glance. “Here goes nothin’...” He threw the switch and the machine came to life.

It loudly banged around, nearly pulling the bolts that kept it down out of the floor. Ink splattered everywhere and the three men has to hold up their arms to keep the ink from getting on them.

“Time to recite that bullshit!” Thomas shouted over the loud noises.

The words Joey made them memorize was complete nonsense to the mechanic, but he figured it was probably Latin or Aramaic, at least from what Norman figured. It made no sense to him and he didn’t want to know what he was saying loudly over the sounds of the Ink Machine.

The markings around them started to glow faintly yellow, the color spreading out onto the walls and floor as they continued to speak. The machine stopped spraying ink as something seemed to be wedged in the faucet, trying to come out.

Whatever it was, it was trying to force itself out.

Running over, Thomas grabbed onto the wet, solid lump of ink without thinking. He pulled hard on it, hearing it come out with a cartoony-pop sound, ink spraying out once more as he landed on his back, a weight dropped on him hard and knocked the air outta of him.

He coughed and shoved whatever was on him off, hearing it splat next to him as the machine was shut off by Wally. “Conner! Are you alright?” Norman asked as he approached.

“Fine, uhg.” Thomas coughed, sitting up to rub at the ink on his face. He stopped when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, nearly jumping when the lump he had pulled out started to rise up.

The three men watched in horror as the object rose, it was rather tall, and ink was shifting about on it. A lump formed, almost like a head, where strange horn-like appendages grew from it. A blob of ink dropped from the ‘head’ and the three stared at the white, toothy smile that showed.

Tom was suddenly yanked back, pulled away from the smiling mass and the circle he had fallen in.

The mass wiggled and tried to move towards them, two bumps come from what could be its shoulders. They flailed, spraying bits of ink about, as it tried to follow them. Then it dropped forward, face-first into the floor.

“... Is it dead?” Wally whispered, gripping Thomas’ shoulders tightly.

A strange, high pitched squeal came from the thing, making them all shout in alarm. They watched as it curled in on itself as the circle started to glow brighter than before and Thomas was blinded for a moment.

The light faded, and the room was plunged in sudden darkness as the power went out throughout the studio. They were left alone in pitch blackness with a creature they created.

There was a clicking sound, and a light turned on, Norman had found the flashlight Wally had used. He pointed it at the blob, only for them to see that it was gone.

“Oh shit, oh shit...” Wally wheezed out.

“Where did dat thing go?” Norman moved the light about, trying to find it.

Thomas watched as the light’s beam moved about, before he spotted something. He stood up quickly, taking the flashlight from Norman, and pointed it at the Ink Machine. “Found it.”

There was a bit of solid black, and solid white, peeking out from behind the machine. What looked like fingers in white gloves gripped the side of the machine, and a black and white face that was way too familiar to the mechanic was looking at them in fear.

“Sweet mother o’ Mary, we made Bendy a livin’ toon.” Norman said from behind Thomas. “Dat crazy ol’ Mr. Drew was right.” “You gotta be kiddin’ me!” Wally exclaimed loudly, making Bendy hide from the shout. Thomas turned, glaring at the shorter man, before approaching the Ink Machine.

He knelt down, seeing that Bendy, if that was really him, had pressed himself against the wall, unsure of where to go or what to do.

It was amazing, he looked exactly like the cartoon character, just completely solid and alive. He looked so small and scared as he looked at Thomas with large, soulless, black eyes.

Soulless... that’s one way of putting this. There was something so strange about him, he looked just like the character, seemed to register fear and curiosity as he looked at the flashlight and at Thomas, but... he gave off an air that didn’t sit right with the man.

Then again, he was made through demonic magic, a cartoon, and ink, so there was obviously gonna be something so otherworldly of this guy.

With a heavy sigh, he held out a hand. “Come on, kid, let’s get ya outta here.”

Bendy looked at the offered hand before carefully touching it, just as the lights started to come back on. “Do we tell Joey about this?” Thomas heard Wally say as he picked up Bendy.

“Let’s see if the kid lives, who knows how stable he is with that prototype we designed. It was only meant for making ink, not creating life like this.”

“Joey’s still gonna wanna know.” Norman frowned.

“I’ll tell him when he gets back, I’ll even write down everything that happened, I’ve got this.” Thomas replied as he walked past, heading to get back upstairs and out of that room. He had taken noticed that when the lights turned on, the walls were stained a sepia tone of yellow, he hoped that it didn’t cause any problems, nor did he want to hear any complaints from Sammy if those stains got down to the music department on the floor below.

He’d deal with all of the clean up late, right now, he needed to deal with the little cartoon he had helped in creating.

He hoped this didn’t come back to haunt him.

--

The room this took place in is the room where Henry collapsed at the end of chapter one)

[wyntersriddle]

Characters: Barry Allen, Leonard Snart, Iris West, Cisco Ramon, Eobard Thawne | Harrison Wells, Lisa Snart, Wally West, Mick Rory, Hartley Rathaway, Mark Mardon, Shawna Baez, Ray Palmer, Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen, Joe West, (more characters to be added as more chapters are added)

Additional Tags: Inspired by Miraculous LadybugAlternate Universe - College/UniversityAlternate Universe - Different PowersBarry Allen is a cinnamon rollBarry Allen & Leonard Snart are the Same AgeThief Leonard SnartCisco Ramon is so DoneLeonard Snart is chat noirBarry allen is ladybugNew Ladybug Miraculous HolderI Will Go Down With This ShipFluff and SmutEventual SmutEventual Happy EndingPre-RelationshipOther Additional Tags to Be Added

Language: English

Summary:

When Barry Allen finds a small black box he ends up getting superpowers of creation from a little red bug called a kwami. Similarly, Leonard Snart steals another box and gets his own superpowers of destruction. Together, they must fight through evil monsters, awkward lunch dates, and save Central City while still trying to graduate college.

Inspired by the show Miraculous Ladybug

Barry huffed out a breath when he finally collapsed in his seat for first period a few minutes past 10am.

He was already late as it was and lugging around his thick textbooks and laptop did nothing but hurt his lower back. The class was a good size, not too cramped or empty, the lecture was interesting enough, and all Barry could do was squirm in his chair the whole hour and a half. College life was sure could be exhausting.

Central City Academy housed the greatest legends to date and Barry wanted to meet them all. Teachers like Martin Stein, head of the criminology department, David Singh, head of the detective agency, and Sara Lance, the Dean for almost 15 years, were all on his list to attend their seminars. The creme of the crop though was Doctor Harrison Wells, the lead field expert in all technology and science. If Barry could somehow meet him, he would be on the top of the world and could die happily. Even if nothing else came from today, at least he could say he walked on the same sidewalk Dr. Wells drove past every morning.

Barry’s first class was taught by Martin Stein, an older gentleman with white hair he could see a mile away. He took notes diligently, asked questions, and before walking out introduced himself. Professor Stein was elated to find out Barry’s major was in Forensic Science, the “modern prosperity of the future” as the professor put it, and even went so far as to invite Barry back for coffee in the next coming weeks to discuss participating in some experiments of his own.

Barry basically skipped out of his class, not bothering to look forward until it was too late and he collided head first into someone wearing huge glasses hiding half their face. Something hot spilled all over Barry’s jacket and he shrieked, dropping his textbooks and messenger bag in a heap on the floor.

“Ow! Omg I’m so sorry—“

The person reached forward to prevent the hot drink from spilling any further, instead knocking the sunglasses off her face. She dove into her bag and brought out a napkin.

“Here, let me help you with that. I’m such an idiot for forgetting the lids.”

“That’s alright,” Barry said, already peeling his hoodie away from his body before his t-shirt could get wet. The smell of coffee hit him head on. “I didn’t like this jacket anyways.”

Truth be told it was his favorite jacket, the only memento Barry had of his dad in prison and his mom before she had passed away from cancer in the beginning of the year. By that time, Barry had already graduated high school, done his first two years of college, and moved to Central City to start his Bachelors that fall, wanting to put his past behind him and start from scratch somewhere new.

“Hey, wait.” The lady put her hand on Barry’s sleeve when he bent to get his stuff. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

The young woman could have come out of a fashion magazine with her dark skin, long black hair, and dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Now that Barry looked at her, like actually looked at her, she was familiar too, even if he couldn’t place her from where.

“I don’t think so?” Barry said instead, reaching for his bag and wincing where he heard something shift. “I’m sorry but I really gotta get to class.”

“Right.”

She helped stack up the remaining books into his arms, watching out of the corner of her eye so Barry didn’t topple and fall from the added weight.

“Wait a second.”

Barry was pushed forward and then he almost did land on his ass. The books held up in their pile and he shot the woman a look of exasperation.

“Barry Allen? Like as in the Barry Allen? It’s me, Iris.”

“Iris?”

Barry was finally able to cram the textbooks next to his laptop in his bag and watch as Iris grinned back at him.

Oh...that’s why he had thought she was a model.

“Hey, it’s you, Iris.” Barry rubbed his neck, fighting a blush. “Long time no see.”

“It’s been forever,” Iris chatted. Barry could now smell the sweetness of her perfume. “How are you? Last time I saw you you were pushing the swing behind me and making those really weird experiments in middle school. Damn it’s been forever.”

“Yeah...It really has.”

Iris West, Barry’s childhood crush was staring at him and only remembered those lame volcano projects he had done. How convenient she didn’t remember all the valentine letters or the chocolate bars for Secret Santa he would leave at her desk, not to mention all the time he had spent staring at her yearbook photo before he had given up his freshmen year when she had transferred schools.

“You look good,” Barry continued, his heart in his throat. “You go here?”

Iris did that cute hair flip she had perfected at the end of 8th grade where her hair had only gone up to her shoulders. Long hair really worked for her.

“Yeah, I’m majoring in journalism so I can finally run my own news stand in the future. Still haven’t given up just yet.”

Ah yes, Iris had always been obsessed with journalism and creative writing, even making her own club in middle school. Barry had wanted to join but never had the guts to ask.

He really had to go before he fell further into the rabbit hole that was Iris’s big brown eyes.

“I...Uh,” Barry stuttered, motioning with his hands. “I gotta—Class.”

Iris must have gotten the message because she moved back to give him space. “Right.”

Barry nodded.

They said their goodbyes and Barry retreated out of there faster than a cheetah on steroids. Iris had promised coffee one of these—something he would have to psyche himself up for later—and he had said yes, like an idiot.

Although it had been good to see her...

Barry snapped his brain back to the real world. Iris was unattainable. She was attractive, bold, smart, the total package. Never, in a million years, would she want to go out with someone like him, neighborhood geek whose ideal date was staying home marathoning Stranger Things on Netflix and taking a nap.

A breeze swept leaves up into the late September air, carrying the scent of fall. The tree colors were changing from their typical green to golden brown and burgundy, Barry’s favorite time of year. It was automatically calming, even without the thin protection of his jacket the autumn sunshine turned his hair light brown.

The next class was short, a lecture on the introductions to the psychology of the human brain. It wasn’t as interesting as Barry would have thought with a lot more PowerPoint explications then talking, but he would make do. He also made sure his laptop wasn’t cracked or broken before placing it carefully back in his bag and jogging to the food court to find something to eat.

Barry had the all in one meal plan since he lived on campus. Having the ability to eat anything he wanted without gaining too much weight always had its perks, especially when he ordered the juiciest burger he could find and munched on it in one hand while holding a large vanilla shake in the other.

It was around 2pm and the food court was a bustle of activity. People gathered to sign up for clubs or talk to their peers about their assignments. Jazz music filtered from a sit down Italian restaurant, while across from it a huge crowd waited their turn for homemade pizza slices. There were vending machines, snack stands, and even an ice cream parlor tucked in the corner. At the center of it all the library stood proudly, the only place where food wasn’t allowed past a certain point. There was even a system to rent entire rooms for the day for people to sleep, study, or scream because of finals.

Barry moved onward, trading the shouts and loud noises for the quiet outdoors where again another breeze caught his attention. A blue bird twittered down at him from its nest, a squirrel chittered, and lizards liked the lips from across the treetops.

Barry had to seriously watch where he was going because for the second time that day he collided head on with another person, this time a young dude heading the same direction.

“Whoa, I’m so sorry. Wasn’t payin’ attention.”

“That’s okay, man. It’s cool.”

The stranger regarded Barry with a smile. He had long, wavy hair all the way to his shoulders, and a pair goofy 3D glasses balanced on the tip of his nose. The vintage Revenge of Sith t-shit and paint splattered jeans made Barry feel at ease.

“Is that real?” Barry asked when his gaze fell to a NASA pin on the corner of the stranger’s collar.

“Limited edition, baby,” the guy said. “Got it at San Diego Comic Con last year. 25th Anniversary Apollo 11 pin in the flesh. Had to trade my complete Star Trek playing card set just to even be considered bidding for it.”

“They make Star Trek playing cards? For real?”

“They make playing cards out of everything.” The stranger held out his hand and Barry shook it. “I’m Cisco by the way. You catch my vibe?”

Barry grinned. “Bartholomew Henry Allen. My friends call me Barry since it’s shorter and a lot faster.”

“Like Barry Sonnenfeld,” Cisco exclaimed, and then persisted to sing and snap the Addams Family theme. Barry snapped with him in the last chorus. “Far out, man. That’s wicked cool.”

Cisco’s good mood was infectious, Barry couldn’t help grinning and walking in step with him.

“Where you headed?” Cisco asked. “I got one class left and wouldn’t mind talking to someone with good tastes.”

Barry laughed. “Same here, then I get to unpack. I’m in G66, at the Northside.”

“Awesome-sauce, I’m there too! Is this a match made in heaven or what?”

They continued to walk and talk under the trees, Cisco describing his schedule in details even Barry could barely wrap his head around, but they still laughed and talked about stupid stuff like they hadn’t just accidentally head butted each other.

Barry’s phone chimed, signaling he had only 10 minutes to get to his next class before he would be considered late, and he blanched.

“I’m gonna be so late,” he groaned into the sky.

“No you’re not.” Cisco’s cheeky grin lit up his face. “I know a shortcut. This way.”

They cut through the grass to the other side of campus toward the statue garden Barry had been meaning to check out. Crossing two things at the same time always had its perks.

The statues of past teachers and deans stood proudly among the foliage. Their perfect white skin was like marble and so lifelike Barry had to breathe out a sound of wonder. He recognized Professor Stein among them, a younger version of himself, and Dean Lance with her stern expression. At the center stood Doctor Harrison Wells in all his glory, a perfect replica. It was hard not to stare.

“He’s a legend, ain’t he.” It was Cisco standing next to Barry.

“Beyond a legend.”

They grinned, going in through the back of the building where the auditorium was already packed with people. There were only two seats left in the front row facing the doors and Barry made a beeline straight towards him, Cisco on his heels. They sat down just as the clock stuck 2:45 and the lecture started.

The place felt like a can of sardines, and Barry had to fight to put his laptop on the table in front of him. The auditorium easily housed over 200 people and everyone held their breath at the same time waiting for Professor Rip Hunter to walk through the doors.

Barry looked around for a few seconds, catching the faces of others doing the same. The place even had a dark corner where the more reserved students sat. Barry could feel one of their eyes on him now, hidden enough so when he turned his head he slightly could only make out a navy blue jacket.

People exclaimed when the doors opened and instead of the walking Professor Rip Hunter, Professor Harrison Wells rode in on his wheelchair. People gasped and some clapped. A girl even fainted, falling out of her chair with a heavy THUMP on the floor.

Doctor Wells was here, in the flesh, in front of Barry!

Barry almost squealed from his seat, only stealing his breathing when Wells clapped his hands to have everyone’s attention.

“Good morning, students.”

There was more cheering and snippets of disbelief.

Professor Wells chuckled. “I’m sure you all know who I am. I will be subbing in for Professor Hunter for today. Rest assured this is a treat for all of you as well as me, in fact I’m a little rusty with my teaching so forgive me.”

Wells cleaned his glasses on his sleeve. Even the gesture made Barry’s eyes go wide. He could practically see the individual stitches from where he was sitting, the slight wear and tear of the professor’s shoes, and even the individual hairs on Well’s perfect head.

“I will be here if you all have any questions, but for now let us begin.”

XXXXX

College life sucked ass.

College classes sucked even more.

College professors, now they were the real dicks.

Leonard Snart rolled his eyes for the fifth time that hour. If he rolled them any further back he could probably find not only his brain, but the professor’s too.

The class was beyond drab, History of the Assembly Line, and the poor bloke who had to teach it was even older than the source material. Rest assured, Len would be skipping this class and probably the next one, and if he had a third he would skip that one too.

Math and science had been his forte since diapers, that was why he’d ended up in this stupid college in the first place. ‘The home where lawyers and DND geeks could party like the days of yore.’ Leonard had to laugh. Whoever thought college was fun clearly hadn’t seen the bill at the end of the semester.

At least the campus wasn’t all that bad. With its slick rooftops, starch white walls, and peaceful serenity that seemed to envelope whole environment, Leonard could see himself staying there until the late hours of the day, ducking into the library or one of the swinging tables littered across the greenery. There was also a garden in the middle of campus where all the famous crack heads and hippies could mingle and smoke until they passed out for the week. It was a paradise for some, a prison of books for others.

The nerds were lively this year. Leonard had passed at least 7 clubs all asking for his vote to sign this or end that. He had given his favorite finger to most of the people that passed him, saving his breath for whoever tried to chase him down when he speed walked away. A piece of paper wasn’t going to abolish world hunger anytime soon, even with Len’s signature mixed in the middle.

His next class was halfway across campus so he took the long way, making sure to breathe in the chilling air and watching the leaves dance as they fell from the trees. People didn’t appreciate nature as much as they should’ve, but this campus showed the importance of clean air. The grass was green from the constant sprinklers, the smell of dirt intoxicating in its own way.

Leonard arrived at class too early for his liking, deciding to stick around for a little while longer as a few people passed him by. He had missed lunch, wasn’t hungry, but a girl holding a sandwich made him stomach churn so he looked away and headed inside to hide his appetite.

There was still 32 minutes and 15 seconds left for class to start so he surveyed the area, stopping to tie his shoe to look under the tables too. No one paid him no mind as he made his way to the back, swiping pens and pencils and the occasional phone he would misplace later so the person could find it. Leonard never kept what wasn’t valuable, even now in a college setting when most of these students could afford the best of the best.

A shiny black jewelry box caught his eye from another student sitting next to him, next to an expensive looking leather wallet. The blond boy smiled, all hearts and roses, but when he bent to take out his laptop for the lecture, Len swiped the box and wallet off the table and pocketed it without anyone noticing. Jewelry was always worth a pretty penny and the extra cash would certainly help pay for dinner.

The professor walked in through the double doors, or rather rolled in. He practically screamed pretentious asshole in Len’s direction with beady eyes behind his designer glasses, his Prada suit pressed without a wrinkle, his wheelchair spotless. The lecture started like all the other classes, boring and dull while Leonard tried not to drool in his sleep.

For being such a random topic like quantum physics, the class was beyond packed with some students standing on the sidelines and others pausing by the door while they mixed up their schedules. Whoever this professor was, he was clearly a big shot. In fact, if Len squinted he could see all the nerds in the front row hanging onto his every word, writing things down so fast their hands would fall off.

Leonard tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. He got what he paid for, all for a degree in engineering that would be obsolete in a few years when tablets or smartphones would take over mankind or their jobs would be taken over by machines.

Time ticked at a snails pace and he caught himself glancing at his watch more than once every minute. It really sucked that he could barely afford lunch, much less a laptop. Maybe if he played his cards right he could get a loan or steal some other sucker’s when they weren’t looking. Writing on his hands would have to do for now.

The professor asked question after question only the people in the front row understood. The whiteboard was wiped clean by another student and soon Leonard’s head rolled to the side.

Class ended and he woke up with a jolt. People were already heading out and half the auditorium was empty when he decided to get up and stretch. A few stragglers had stayed behind to fan over the professor, each more wide eyed and excited than the last. Len didn’t need to stick around for that snooze fest, he quietly saw himself out, dumping the wallet in the trash when he saw how many credit cards were in there. There was over $200 in cash.

It was past 6 when he kicked off his motorcycle and rode home, past the slums and the trailer homes to his little modest house on the outskirts of Central City. It was a good 40 minute drive but Len didn’t mind, not when he had the open dirt road all to himself and the wind drowned anything from reaching his ears.

His house wasn’t anything special, just a roof over their heads until Len could move out and take his sister Lisa with him. He had left once in his lifetime and the look of betrayal on her face told him she would never get over it, and he would never let himself forget it.

Lisa had two moods: absolute flirtation or extreme anger. With the first one she could charm even the moodiest king cobra, seduce them into marrying her, and then promptly have them cut off their own head off with the bat of her eyes. The second mood was so bad the devil himself could come down and Lisa would smite him with her glare.

There was one final secret mood only Len knew about and once he entered the house he immediately tried to beeline to the door, knowing the onslaught of questions would want to make him donate his ears to charity.

“Lenny,” Lisa called in a sing-song voice. “I know you’re here, big brother. How was your day?”

Rather than answer, Leonard stuffed his collar in his mouth and bolted up the stairs. He didn’t get far however, because Lisa smacked the door to his room wide open before he could lock it.

“Come on now, don’t be like that.”

“My day was fine. Classes are fine. Everything is peachy.”

Lisa hid her grimace with a tight smile. “Make any new friends? Got a hot date and that’s why you won’t tell me? Come on, Lenny, I’ve been cooped up all day slaving away to rich pricks and exchanging fake numbers I’ll have to burn in my memory. How was your first day?”

Lisa worked at the Saints and Sinners Dinner, an appropriate name considering it was in the sleaziest part of town where their father did most of his gambling. The customers were asshats, but at least the tips were good, letting Lisa finish her last year of her GED so she could hopefully follow away from Len’s footsteps and make a name for herself one day.

Her super short skirt covered little to the imagination and her makeup was always as pristine and flawless as her hair. Today she wore a modest coverup over her work uniform, the last birthday present Len had gifted her when she had turned 18.

“Where’s the old man?” Leonard asked instead of answering. “If you behave I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”

It was a rhetorical question, they both knew where he was. Leonard also knew his father, Lewis Snart, wouldn’t be back until the early hours of the morning, long after Lisa had gone to work and he would make himself scarce.

“What’s for dinner?” His sister asked, smoothing down Len’s leather jacket with her fingertips.

“Pizza. My treat.”

“Pizza?” Lisa wrinkled her nose. “I can’t pay tonight. All of my tips went to the electric bill this month.”

Of course they did.

“My treat,” Leonard repeated. “I said I’d pay last time. Now, do you want to go get it or have it delivered?”

Lisa didn’t hide the way she stared hopefully at the door. That told Len everything he needed to know.

He took the jacket from her fingers. “Come on then.”

Even through all of Lisa’s pestering, she was silent most of the ride to The Tower of Pizza diner, a locally owned business that knew both siblings by name. They could also get a discount on the best garlic bread in Central City.

The diner was practically empty when they arrived, only a few customers milling around the checkered red and white booths. They said their order to the cashier and piled into a single booth, Lisa going first and Len facing her.

“So,” Lisa started. “Now are you going to tell me how your day went?”

“If you want, fine.”

Leonard told it like it was, he didn’t sugarcoat anything anymore for Lisa. She was a big girl, wiser than most people in their 30s, and she knew the law of the land better than anyone. Len described the open campus and the even more open people with their clubs and their acronyms and their frat parties. Her eyes went wide with every description, picturing it all in her mind’s eye. Before long there pizza arrived, half Hawaiian half veggie lovers, and Lisa stuffed her face while Len continued.

“The library is bigger than anything I’ve ever seen, a whole 9 stories of books and computers. You can find anything you want in there.”

“Are there any sororities? What were they like?”

Len shrugged. “How should I know? You want me to join one and tell you about their slumber parties?”

Lisa sighed into her pizza even though she did chuckle at the joke. “I wish I could join a sorority. Do you think it would be fun, Lenny?”

“Matching clothes and banging the school mascot. What’s more fun than that?”

Lisa shoved her crust into his mouth before he could say anymore. The pizza almost choked him but Leonard swallowed it whole, coughing it down.

“You’re a jerk you know,” Lisa snapped. “You didn’t even want to go to college and yet here you are, taking it for granted.”

“Jesus, Lize.” Leonard drowned his watery soda. “If you’re so hurt about it why don’t you go in my place? The classes are fine, I just...”

His voice trailed off and Lisa said nothing. The garlic bread was starting to taste bitter.

“Are you going to leave me too, Lenny? Is that it?”

Leonard almost choked again. “What are you talking about?”

“You can’t stand your little sister anymore because I hold you back. Come on, we both know you didn’t want to stay in Central. You only stayed because of me!”

“That’s not—“

Lisa waved the last slice of her Hawaiian in his face. “Don’t you lie to me, Leonard Snart. I’ve been getting lies all my life.”

Len said nothing, couldn’t say anything to that statement. Lisa was right in a lot of things, but he didn’t want to believe her.

“Let’s just go home.”

He left a hefty tip because he could and they were off, this time the ride less comfortable. Lisa only held on when she had to and Len purposely turned harder in order to feel the contact. They got to the house and before he could even put his helmet away he heard the sharp closing of the door to Lisa’s bedroom.

Leonard didn’t bother, letting his sister cool down was the best option, even if it took a week for her to talk to him.

He threw his jacket against the wall, punched the dresser, and watched as an angry gash formed on his knuckles. He punched the wood again and again until the pain was so bad it was no longer grounding.

Leonard fell to the floor, head in his hands. He would have to clean up the blood from his clothes before his dad made it home, but for now he just sat there, wallowing in his self pity. It wouldn’t help anything and yet he still did it.

Something nudged his foot and Len opened his eyes slowly to spy the little black box he had swiped in his last class. It was barely the size of his fist now that he looked at it, hardly special.

Yet something was calling him to open it. He needed to open it. BADLY.

He took it in his hands and the wood was polished against his fingers. The blood had stopped flowing from his cracked knuckles, but Len still managed not to get a spec on the black box.

Opening it was...normal. Actually it made him feel worse. A single sterling silver ring blinked up at him and he almost, almost threw it aside to continue to sulk.

Except a small voice that was not in his head spoke next to his ear and almost half scared him to death.

“If you get blood on the ring I’ll kill you.”

XXXXX

Barry was high as a kite when he left Well’s class. Cisco had excused himself to go to the bathroom, claiming he almost peed himself when the professor had rode in like a knight in shining wheelchair parts, and if Barry was honest with himself he had probably peed himself from excitement too.

The walk to his dorm room was shorter than he could have imagined, but then again he had skipped the whole way.

Barry’s dorm room was a modern, quaint apartment complex that had a basketball court on one side and a pool on the other. It was the kind of place frat parties would be thrown on one night, and then the other would be the annual board meeting where all the professors would gather over coffee on the bottom floor. There was complimentary breakfast, rose shaped soap, and even towels that looked like swans when Barry wheeled his luggage in and dropped it at the foot of the bed.

The room was a good size, single bedroom like he had requested with another person across the hall where he would share a kitchenette and bathroom. The window overlooked the campus, all the trees changing colors right before his eyes. There were clean sheets in the closet, simple and white, and the walls were burnt orange to contrast the dark furniture.

Barry threw his hands up and whooped loudly. Today had been amazing, even if his jacket was stained with coffee and his classes gave him more homework than he could imagine, he had met with his idol, his world.

Barry unpacked his photographs and camera equipment first, taking the time to organize them on the shelf overlooking his bed. Then he hung the few science posters on the wall he had managed to stuff into his bag and left his high school soccer trophy on his desk next to his laptop and books.

There wasn’t much else to put away besides clothing and enmities so Barry let them be, instead fishing for his phone in his messenger bag. He came up empty so he turned the whole thing upside down on his bed and watched as a bunch of pens, papers, and a notepad flew out. Still no phone? What was wrong with this bag!

Barry dug his hand until he felt a hidden pocket where his phone had been lodged in between two zippers. He also felt something else in there, foreign to his fingers, but it felt small enough that he pulled both objects out at the same time.

The thing turned out to be a small black box that when it caught the light had swirling designs on the sides. Barry started at it and opened it without a second thought. A set of simple black earrings stared up at him, two little dots against the cushioning.

Where had these come from? Barry had never worn earrings in his life besides the one time he had dressed as a pirate in grade school.

He was about to toss them aside to take them to lost and found, but a bright light exploded from inside the box and Barry helped, taking cover under a pillow.

“Hello there, master of creation. My name is Tikki and—“

Barry screamed and fell face first onto his bed, slamming his head on the wood. It hurt like hell but it didn’t matter, he lay still.

He must have passed out because a knock on his door almost caused a Barry to knock his head a second time on the floor.

“Yo, dude!” There was more knocking and Barry half stumbled half crawled to the door to open it. “Everything okay?”

It was a boy younger than him, dark skinned with curly hair, wearing only a towel around his waste. Water was still trailing down his face.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Barry averted his gaze politely.

“I heard screaming.”

“I...slipped.” It was such a lame excuse. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

The boy looked him up and down, clearly not buying it, but didn’t press.

“Alright sure. If you need anything I’m Wally by the way.”

Barry nodded. “Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.”

Barry shut the door without another word, then he groaned. He hadn’t given his name!

Barry opened the door quickly just as Wally was closing the door to the bathroom, probably going to change.

“I’m sorry, that was rude. I’m Barry.”

Wally cracked a small smile and they went their separate ways.

The door being shut made Barry’s skin crawl. He looked around the room and everything seemed normal enough. His books and laptop were still on his desk so there hadn’t been a break in. His clothes were still unpacked, the bed was messy where he had fallen.

He could have sworn he had heard a voice. Barry checked under the bed, in the dresser, but found nothing.

“That was quite a scare,” a frilly voice said. “You should be more careful.”

Barry yelped, grabbing the nearest object to defend himself. It happened to be the desk lamp and he yanked it out of its socket, plunging half the room into darkness.

Just great.

“Whoa whoa. Please don’t hurt yourself.”

Barry could barely see but from what he could make out there was a tiny bug-like creature floating close to his face. An alien. Oh he was so screwed.

“I’m Tikki,” the floating thing said—hadn’t it already said that? “And you’re the new master of the miraculous.”

Barry could faint, or wait maybe he did faint again. The Tikki bug thing was talking to him. It was a real alien!

“You’re...YOU’RE—“

“Tikki. And you are?”

“Barry Allen?”

“Barry Allen.” Tikki nodded their head—her head? Its head?

“What are you exactly?”

“I’m a guardian of the miraculous of creation, a kwami,” Tikki supplied, zipping over to and on the desk. “You were chosen to wield my powers and become a superhero.”

“Superhero?”

Tikki nodded. From the looks of the little antenna poking out of her reddish, almost pink head, and her trill voice Barry could guess she was a girl. She almost resembled a little ladybug.

“Are you ready to transform and see what I’m talking about?”

Transform...?

HOLD THE PHONE.

Barry stumbled to Tikki, dropping himself in his rolling chair.

“Wait wait, start from the beginning. You’re a miraculous. What even is that?”

“Miraculous are beings of pure energy sent to guard the hope and virtue of humanity. We have existed for centuries in secret with only a few people in the history of time that have ever documented us. Those are called guardians, and there is one right here in Central City. I was sent to find you so you could help him save the world.”

“Save the world.”

Apparently Barry was a dumb idiot because all he could do was repeat whatever Tikki was saying. He was probably getting pranked, yeah that was it! Pranked by Wally across the hall to usher him into his new year at the university.

“Thanks,” Barry said slowly. “But I’m good. I’m no hero. Cue the cameras, this prank is over.”

Tikki’s gaze darkened, her blue eyes turning bluer. “This is no joke, Barry. I really am a miraculous. And you’re my new master. We should start your training immediately.”

“No. What you are is a figment of my imagination!” Barry threw his hands in the air and whirled around. Maybe if he closed his eyes he’s wake up from this dream.

He ended up finding Tikki poking his nose when he opened them.

“Come on, come on,” she rushed. “Your partner must be waiting for you.”

“Partner?”

Tikki nodded like it was obvious. “You wield creation, your partner wields destruction. Together you are ying and yang.”

“Right...”

Barry chewed his bottom lip. On the one hand he could turn in this little bug creature over to the authorities and be done with it, maybe put it to good use. The lab always needed to resources to find cures for cancer or the common cold, maybe this was it. On the other hand, he could see where this was going, stick it out for as long as he wanted. Hell, he could be a superhero according to this thing.

“Okay.” Barry nodded slowly, then more firmly, deciding his mind. “Okay, I’ll do it. What do I have to do exactly?”

“I have to pierce your ears. Please hold still. I’ll explain everything once you have the earrings on.”

If Wally heard a Barry scream again he didn’t knock on the door a second time.

If you want more let me know!