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wyntersriddle · 4 years ago

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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!

#coldflash #legends of tomorrow #wip #dc comics #dctv #leonard snart #barry allen #coldflashforever #the flash #alternate universe #fanfic

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pentomic · 8 years ago

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sitra achra

It was a Tuesday when he came for Yosef.

Yosef: 97, stooped, with a bristly white beard and smiling, watery, green eyes. Yosef, who had stormed snow forts in the Bronx and beaches in Normandy. Who had learned particle physics and Gemara, sometimes from the same man,

Yosef, whose children multiplied into grandchildren and then great-grandchildren. Who surrounded himself with family on a Shabbos as they filled his home, his arms, and his heart. Who had taught his children nigunim his grandchildren now sang to their families.

Yosef, whose wife Sara had preceded him into the olam haba five years ago.

Yosef, who struggled to make his mourners’ kaddish heard in his soft and trembling voice.

Yosef, who went to minyan every day, trudging through snow, often alone.

Sometimes out of the corner of his eye he’d see them-- his father, Reb Zalman, a massive hunk of a man, an unlettered shochet who spoke five languages and had trained briefly as a chazzan. His mother, Devorah, who marched with a Yiddish sash for workers’ rights, shouting slogans to the beat of a snare drum.

The walk to the synagogue was longer than he remembered, the air crisp and cold. The sun seemed larger and brighter than ever, reflecting off the snow in a million tiny fragments, each one a glittering memory. He took in trembling breaths of air, trying not to see the ones that would reduce him to tears, a snivelling mess outside for all to see.

Abe Raber, tank commander, with his big fleshy nose and trimmed pencil moustache, who had burned to death dragging a wounded crewman from his Sherman.

Joe Dunaway, his best friend at the aerospace company, who had passed thirteen years ago in a high-speed collision.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sara, now in her lacy, long-sleeved, wedding dress, now in her homemade maternity clothes, now with her aluminum walker and shock of white hair, and each time so breathtakingly beautiful.

The synagogue itself seemed deathly quiet, only the buzzing of the yahrzeit boards breaking the silence. He nodded greetings to the other men, took a siddur, and delved into it. Prayers-- time to thank Hashem, praise Hashem, honour Hashem. To ask for healing and for peace on earth. To pray that his newest great-grandchild, Shimon, would make his way out of the incubator, grow from his low birth rate into a Jewish man, healthy and strong.

Midway through the service, he became aware of a presence behind him. Not quite as insubstantial as the memories that accompanied him on his walk, but not totally physical either. He turned.

The man was a small, dumpy Jew, with a big black velvet kipa and a pleasant face. He had a short, scratchy beard, and he would often look up from his siddur to stare squarely at Yosef’s back. They made eye contact once, briefly; Yosef suddenly felt as if he were falling into a pool of quiet emptiness, and the man looked away in apparent shame.

Yosef thought of trying to draw someone else’s attention to this Jew, who he had never seen before, but he also thought better of it. Something, a sort of primal relief deep in his chest, told him that he knew this man, not well but not vaguely either, that this man is a man whom every Jew on earth will at some time come to know.

The man followed Yosef out of the synagogue, as the feeling of relief in his chest-- the left side, near the heart-- blossomed and deepened into an all-encompassing pain, and in the harsh light of the winter’s day, as they exited the synagogue, Yosef saw how the man’s body was covered-- covered-- in dark, impassive, eyes, and his suit was too, and every eye regarded Yosef with a cool, detached interest.

This was when Yosef knew the man for what he was.

The man stepped up and introduced himself, and suggested they walk for a while together, and through the pain, Yosef nodded. They walked. He did not stumble. Yet they had barely gotten one hundred paces from the shul when Yosef’s breath suddenly ran out, and he leaned against a car. His heart felt like it was going to burst-- he could almost feel it twitching, skipping beats, and the pain grew, and in his narrowing vision the small man grew larger and blacker and more all-encompassing, and then everything stopped.

When he opened his eyes, Yosef was still standing next to the car. There was no pain. Nothing, seemingly, had changed.

The angel of death regarded him dispassionately, a small smile on its face.

“Nu, look at your reflection in that car window” it said.

So Yosef did, and found to his surprise that he was twenty-nine again, and he was tall and strong, wearing a full black beard and his Shabbos best, with a brand-new hat. In his hand was his old tallis bag, but now it too was new.

“You’ll need that” said the angel of death “and your siddur too.”

So Yosef checked his tallis bag, and found he had a brand-new siddur, in a new and complex nusach he did not understand. He would, however, have eternity to try and understand it-- and somehow, he figured that sooner or later he would.

He looked up from the siddur and there stood Abe Raber, dressed to the nines in his Class As, his wedding ring sparkling, grinning like he had just won the million-dollar prize.

“Hey Joe” said Abe “fancy seein’ you here.”

Yosef grinned.

“It’s been too long” said Abe. “I missed ya, buddy-- we’ve got a lotta catching up to do.”

Yosef found there were tears of joy in his eyes, but as he wrung Abe’s hand a strange panic descended on him.

“My wife” he said “is she--”

“She’s waiting” said Abe. “And so is Joe, Henri, Mendy, and all the rest. We’ve got an amazing welcome shindig planned-- and wait’ll you see the rabbis we have, and the library we have!”

Yosef found himself laughing, in his deep bass twenty-nine-old voice, right there on the street, with his dead friend, so caught up in the moment he did not see the ambulance, the EMTs, the frantic defibrillation.

The angel of death reached an unfathomable hand into an unfathomable pocket and retrieved a watch that hurt Yosef’s head to look at.

“Nu, I hate to break up the reunion” it said “but yourself and Abe will have much time to catch up, and we have got to get moving.” It reached into empty space and opened a door, behind which stood a well-lit, wood-panelled hallway, like the inside of one of those gigantic wooden synagogues they used to have in Poland.

“Just keep walking until you reach your door” said the angel of death “they’ll be going right into your trial.”

So Abe motioned Yosef in, and Yosef motioned Abe in, and they motioned each other in until they collapsed in laughter, just like back in ‘42 at the Fort Benning NCO Club. They walked in, and the angel of death closed the door, sighed, straightened its jacket, and walked off, for the work of the angel of death is not yet done, and will not be done for a while.

Behind the door, as mentioned, was a hallway, and in that hallway was a door, and behind that door was a courtroom, and in that courtroom was a jolly, muscular fellow with glasses and a bright pink beard, who shook Yosef’s hand and introduced himself as “the Adversary. Yes, that one” and there was a short (nine feet) pugnacious seraph who is “your lawyer-- pretty new, as these things go, but I’ve been reviewing your file and I’m confident we’ll get you off easy” and there was a presence Yosef couldn’t look at, but filled him with celestial joy and peace.

And there were three gruelling months in hell (which is too terrible to describe, yet not important enough to warrant description) and there was Sara, and when he saw her he buried his face in her soft neck, and she was so beautiful, and they cried together for a while. And there were rabbis (R’Akiva: kind and boisterous with stonecutter’s biceps, the Rambam, crotchety and logical but never ill-meaning, the Ralbag, terribly smart about everything and very long-winded), and there was learning, and there were great celebrations with delicious food, and he could dance for hours now and never tire.

And there was Sara, and they were each other’s worlds, and every time he looked at her she grew more beautiful, and often they would sit on the hills and watch the angels moving the earth, as he whispered sweet things into her hair.

And so it was, and so shall it be, until the time of the Moshiach, when Levyatan is slain, the dead are resurrected, and Hashem’s kingship embraces the whole world, l’olam va’ed, amen v’amen v’amen.

But that, my friends, is another story, for another time.

#my writing #judiasm #the jewish experience tag

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