Reblogging This So Hopefully More People See It. Im Temporarily Unflagged. For Now.

Reblogging this so hopefully more people see it.  I’m temporarily unflagged.  For now.

Whumptober Prompt Four- Human Shield

Hello all.  I’m trying here.  I’m very much trying to reach out to tumblr to stop the algorithm from targeting me but I am making very little success.  But I’m still trying.  Here’s day four- Human Shield.

AO3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/20899490

Keep reading

Whumptober Prompt #8 Stab Wound

Heeeeeeeeeeey guys... Ummmmmmm

Here’s the thing.  I started this one last night. It didn’t really come.  It was like pulling teeth.  So I figured I could work on it today.  Aaaaannnnnnnddddd then I went into work- where my new manager made a mistake.  I’m allergic to lavender (which he knows I told him not even last week), and part of his job involves making henna with lavender (we make our henna from scratch that we sell).  Guess who didn’t cap the lavender correctly and let the scent go all over our office?  Yep!  My new manager.  Our old manager knew I was allergic to lavender (again, I let her knows as soon as I found out how we make henna) and I never had a reaction when she was in charge.  The first time he makes it, I told him five days ago!, I have a reaction.  And then still had to work the rest of the shift!  Thankfully I work outside so I could breathe a bit easier once I took some antihistamines.  I’m okay, though.  I’m so sorry, I’ll try to do better for #10.  I will not be posting this to AO3- it’s too short and basically unfinished.   I’m fine, guys. I really am, but I can’t write tonight.  I’m gonna post what little I have and I’m gonna go lay down.

PS I will not be posting a new story tomorrow for those who are looking, I will be reblogging my 7&9 one for number 9.

Line Break

No matter how times Lucifer got hurt around Chloe, the pain always caught him off guard.  The feeling of a bullet piercing his flesh, a garrote digging into his neck, and now a knife stabbed into his back.  He knew a knife when he felt one, he’d never forget the feeling after he asked Maze to cut his wings off, but as it slipped between his ribs, he’d mistaken it for a punch.  So he stumbled, knelt on the ground, and tried to keep his devil face inside.  The detective was here, and he didn’t want her getting caught in the crossfire.  All he had to do was get away from her without catching her attention and everything would be fine.

It wasn’t too bad once my fever broke. I slept through most of the illness, I just remember that waterfall even though I was nowhere near one. I’ve turned it into fun bits of whump idea after idea.

I once hallucinated when I had a fever of 104! I was lying in bed, burning up, and knew it was a school day. So I got out of bed and immediately collapsed to the ground. Thankfully my door was open and roommates were able to check on me. They couldn’t lift me into bed, but made sure I wasn’t dead and got me some water. Except- that’s not what I remember. I remember being stuck under a cold waterfall, against a rocky surface. When I woke up a few hours later, I could stand and got back in bed

Ooo, that sounds really scary!

Whumptober Prompt #13- Adrenaline and #17- “Stay With Me”

Heeeey.  I’ll make this short, no one’s really reading anyways. This is ColdFlash.  The Adrenaline is interpreted rather loosely.

Chest compressions.  Breath.  Breath.  Chest compressions.  Gasp like there’s no air.  Breath.  Breath.  Listen to his heart.  Don’t hear anything.  Chest compressions.  Don’t panic, don’t paNIC, DON’T PANIC.  Breath.  Breath.  Nothing.  Start chest compressions again.

“Stay with me, Barry, stay with me.”  Mutter under breath.  Barely notice the water vapor.  Jacket is still sticking to skin.  Hope that the cold won’t kill him faster.

Don’t look at his slack, angelic face.  Rip off mask just in case it’s impeding his breathing.  Check his airway again.  Don’t think about doing CPR on his lifeless body.  Continue doing chest compressions.  Breath.  Breath.  Check his pulse.  Check again.

Panic.

“No, no, no, please, Barry, stay with me.  Don’t go, don’t go, stay with me, please.”

Feel lost.  Feel scared.  Feel angry.

“You bastard!  How dare you?  Come back, you bastard!  Come back!”

Clench your hand into a fist.  Pound on his chest.  His body jerks.  A small trickle of water comes out of his mouth.  Grasp onto the smallest hope.  Do it again.  And again.

… 

With the greatest sound Len had ever heard in his life, Barry coughed, throwing up water and bile as his airways cleared.  Len turned Barry onto his side, and the coughing became easier.  When he stopped throwing up, and his breathing seemed to come naturally, Len hooked his arms around Barry’s knees and back, hauling him into Len’s arms.  He really wished he could take Barry to Star Labs where his friends could help him, but there was no way he could do that.  Len would have to leave his bike behind, he couldn’t hold onto an unconscious Barry and drive at the same time, but thankfully, he had a safehouse a couple of blocks away so he planned out a route in his head.  They were in a neighborhood where nobody ever looked out their windows, so he could just run with an unmasked Flash in his arms and no one would see anything, or say anything if they did.

In exactly fifteen point seven minutes, Len fumbled for his keys in his back pocket, trying to balance an unconscious Flash and open his locked door at the same time.  It took him fourteen point three seconds, an increase from his usual ten point nine, to get the door open and manhandle Barry inside.  He set Barry down on the nearby couch, glad he had had the foresight to put the couch close to the door, though he had done it in case he needed a quick shield or barricade.  He grabbed the throw pillows Lisa had given him as gag gifts, the ones with the Flash and Captain Cold personas on each, and tried to set Barry up so he was comfortable but still kept his airways clear and his chest without too much pressure on it.  He wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he’d read enough from the medical textbooks the prison libraries had available to know he needed to keep the stress off of Barry’s chest.  Soon as he was satisfied, he wrapped Barry in as many blankets as he could find.

Soon after, Barry’s wonderful, beautiful green eyes fluttered open.  Len’s entire body sagged in relief.  Barry’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, his mouth moving stiltedly.

“Barry?”  Len asked, trying to be gentle.

“-one.”  Barry struggled to get out, coughing again.

“One?  One what?”

Barry tried to clear his throat.  “Phone.”

Len pat down his jacket, and pulled a waterlogged phone out of his pocket.  He grimaced.  He hadn’t taken anything out of his pockets before jumping into the water after Barry.

“I have others.”  Len stated, setting the now useless phone on the coffee table.

He bolted to the bedroom and easily got into his safe, the one where he kept his important documents for the apartment like ownership papers and fake identities in case he needed to run, and pulled out the first burner phone he saw.  When he returned, he saw Barry trying to reach for the dead phone.

“Use this one, this one works.”  Len pressed the phone into Barry’s hands.

Barry’s hands were shaking as he tried to type a number into the text message function.  He kept slipping so Len gently took it from him, listening ardently.  Barry rattled off a number, a local one, so it was either Cisco or his father.

“What do you want to say?”  Len asked quietly.

“Cisco- it’s Bar.  Am safe.  Will come back ASAIC.”  Barry panted, sounding exhausted.  “Am safe, aren’t I?”

Len chuckled dryly.  “Yes because I’ve gone to all of this trouble to pull you out of a river, given you CPR, and dragged your dumb Hero ass all the way to one of my apartments to kill you.  It’s all a part of my master plan.”

Barry’s mouth quirked into a small smile.  Len would deny ever feeling a flutter of butterflies in his stomach like a schoolgirl at seeing that smile.

“Typed and sent.”  Len said, showing Barry the phone.

Barry nodded and closed his eyes again.

Len sighed, feeling just a tad guilty but shook Barry anyway.  “Nope.  You can’t rest just yet.  You gotta help me get you out of this suit.  You’re freezing.”

Barry didn’t open his eyes, he merely hit a button on the chest plate of his suit and it became more relaxed than Len’d ever seen it.

“Come on, you can’t help me?”  Len teased, feeling a little better about getting back into their usual rhythm.  “You’re gonna make me strip you alone?”

Barry didn’t answer him.

Len checked his pulse and breathing, and found them both strong.  It seemed Barry’s metahuman healing factor was putting him back together at record speed.  Len double checked them again, just in case.

Then he soldiered on, manhandling Barry out of the Flash suit.  Barry must’ve been more than exhausted to let him do this alone because all he found underneath the Flash’s red not-leather, as Barry once insisted, was Barry’s smooth marble skin and toned muscles.  He didn’t even know that Barry had a six-pack, but to be honest, it made sense.  Flash was strong enough to take on guys like King Shark and Gorilla Grodd so having a six-pack and muscles that almost made Len drool didn’t seem too far-fetched.

When he got to the legs aspect of the suit, he hesitated.  Barry only wore his boxers underneath, and those certainly couldn’t stay but he did not want to do that alone.  But it seemed Barry was good and out, and wouldn’t be helping.  So Len tried to push his personal feelings for Barry, and definitely his attraction to Barry’s stunning runner’s physique, as deep in the back of his mind as he could and got to work.  He peeled the fabric away, first from the suit, then from the soaking wet cotton that was the only thing left protecting Barry’s modesty.  As soon as he could, he threw the blankets back over Barry so the temptation to look would not have its day.  He hung the soaking wet Flash suit over his shower curtain, with Barry’s boxers right next to it.  Hopefully, they could dry a little that way.

A low moan caught his attention.  He returned to the couch to find that Barry was beginning to wake up a little.

“Come on, baby, wake up.”  Len whispered, shaking Barry’s shoulder a little.

“Baby?”  Barry blinked his eyes open, much more coherent that the last time.

“What?  No, I called you Barry.”  Len said, cursing his stupid mouth for acting without his permission.  “You must still have water in your ears.”

“Water?”  Thankfully, Barry seemed to buy it.  “Wait, when did I get wet?  When-” Barry reached up to his face and recognized that he was no longer dressed.  “Where is my suit?!?”

“Relax, Scarlet,” Len smirked, enjoying that Barry was turning the color of his nickname, “It’s drying in my bathroom.  You were soaking wet, you needed to get out of those wet clothes.”

Barry nodded.  “That explains why I’m so cold.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”  Len asked.

Barry frowned.  “Jewelry store.  A new meta with some kind of either super strength or molecular density rearrangement… That’s it.”

“He got you pretty good.”  Len filled in.  “You took a bad hit to the head, and went flying over the bridge into the Mississippi.”

Barry stared at him.  “Then… how did I get here? With my suit in your bathroom?  Did you pull me out?”

Len distinctly ignored the memory of panicking in the murky water, desperately searching for the speedster.

“Eh, you more washed up on shore.” Len lied. “I couldn’t have anyone find you and know your secret.  How else would I still be able to continue working without you constantly throwing me in jail?”

Barry stared at him, his mouth twitching until he smiled.

“You saved my life.”

“I merely did what was necessary for me to do what I want to do.”  Len said.

“Then why did you give me CPR?”  Barry asked.  “I can feel it, you know.  I can feel my ribs knitting themselves back together and my lungs aching from the water.  You said I took a bad hit to the head.  Not the chest.”

“You probably broke your ribs when you hit the water.”  Len tried.

Barry’s smug smile was spreading across his face.  “No I didn’t. You saved me.”

“If you start with that ‘there’s good in you’ shit again, I’m kicking you out.”  Len snarled, his hackles rising.

Barry put up his hands in surrender.  “Wouldn’t want that.  You got a phone I can borrow? I need to tell the team I’m okay.”

“I already sent them a text.”  Len grumbled.

Barry’s smug smile got worse.

“Hey, that was your fault.”  Len accused.  “You were moving around trying to get a phone, I had to send it because you couldn’t.”

“I was?”  Barry asked.

Len nodded.

“I don’t remember any of that.”  The smug smile vanished, replaced by a worried frown.

“You took a bad hit to the head and fell off a bridge.”  Len said, gentler.  “Cut yourself some slack.”

Barry nodded back, then looked Len up and down.  “Are you okay?”

“Ask yourself that.”  Len said.  “You’re the one who fell off a bridge.”

“You seem cold.”  Barry started.

“Why thank you, and me without my parka.”  Len shot back.

“No seriously, you look cold.”  Barry tried again.

“The cold never bothered me anyway, Scarlet.”  Len smirked.

“Then why are your hands shaking?”  Barry asked bluntly, ignoring the terrible line.

That caught Len off guard.  He looked down and, shit, Barry was right. He shoved his hands and found his jacket still soaked through.

“Let me get out of these wet clothes and I’m sure they’ll freeze.”  Len said, standing.

Barry groaned.  “That was terrible!”

Whumptober Prompt #15- Scars

Yo- here’s another ColdFlash.  Author’s notes are getting kinda annoying.  Enjoy

...

The one thing Barry would never have called himself a year ago was lucky.  Losing his mother at such a young age, his father’s wrongful imprisonment right after, child psychologist after child psychologist telling him the yellow lightning was a manifestation of some bullshit or another, always denying the truth that he saw that night, the bullies, the consistent inability to be punctual to anything, the lightning strike, his powers… it was a long list on why Barry considered himself very unlucky.

But tonight?  Tonight, Barry was the luckiest man in the world.

Leonard Snart, Captain Cold himself, was lying asleep beside him, still just as in love with him as Barry was in love with him.  The Legend of Tomorrow had returned to Central City, after the Oculus explosion apparently didn’t kill him but simply sent him through time.  Once he’d regained the ability to travel back to Present Central City, he’d returned to Barry.  Thankfully, Barry hadn’t sold their apartment yet, as everyone else had been trying to convince him to do.  Granted, they thought Len had died so it had made sense but he hadn’t been ready to let go yet.  Barry had come home with groceries and another realtor business card to throw in the trash and Len had simply been waiting at the kitchen table with a cup of hot chocolate, the newspaper, and piping hot dinner.

Barry had dropped the groceries, unable to try and catch them, even with his super speed.  Len had cocked an eyebrow, and simply laughed.  “Didn’t think you’d be so clumsy, Scarlet.”

Hours later, once Len had proved that he was alive, and his Len, after dinner and a dance and a kiss that quickly led them to the bedroom, they laid in bed together but Barry had been unable to sleep.  Len had fallen asleep a little while ago, spent and exhausted.  Barry had been very demanding after losing Len for six months, and now that he had him back, he couldn’t stop staring at his partner.  Len’s face hadn’t changed, the same piercing blue eyes that made Barry’s knees weak, the same jawline now peppered in hickeys, the same mouth that worshiped Barry, infinitely pouring love from those wonderful lips, and yet… Barry couldn’t help but notice small differences.

There was a scar on Len’s right arm, from the Oculus no doubt.  It ran from about half his forearm all the way to his middle knuckle.  It wasn’t straight, like a knife, but almost a lichtenberg figure like the one he got from the lightning strike.  It branched out from the main scar, the littler scars fading easily into the skin.

There was another new one just behind Len’s ear, this one much smaller.  It seemed more like what had once been a small nick, or maybe a blow to the head, and Barry could really only see it because Len wore his hair so short.

Len’s left hand had a new scar as well, but this one obviously different from the others.  Maybe he was crazy, maybe he was reading too much into it, but Barry was ninety percent sure Len had done this one himself.  Len’s hand was unharmed, the same calluses, the same chips in his fingernails, the same scars on his hands from his father, but this one was new.  This one was a small slash across his wrist, right above where handcuffs would fit him.  It looked like a razor had torn up Len’s skin in one short but deep cut.  It looked too small and precise to be anything but razor, and a razor wasn’t a normal method of torture.  So, Len had to have done it himself.  He wasn’t sure why, but that question could wait.  They had all the time in the world now.  Len had promised to stay as long as he could.  Barry knew he would go back to the Legends eventually, Len missed Mick, and the thrill of working through time, but for right now, Len was home.

It was Len’s back though, where Barry noticed the biggest change.  Len was sleeping on his back, so Barry had an open view.  Len’s scars from childhood, the beatings, his father’s belt, those were all intact, but there was one new one.  It wasn’t quite a burn scar, but it was at the same time.  He knew it didn’t come from Mick, Len had a few burn scars from when Mick couldn’t protect Len from himself, and this wasn’t like that.  It was more like a sunburn on a regular scar.  Like light itself burned into Len’s skin.

“Scarlet, you’re supposed to be sleeping.”  Len’s tired voice brought him to reality.  “Not staring at me like a stalker.

Barry blushed.  “I couldn’t help it.”

Len turned over and his sleep-lidded eyes stared up at him curiously.  “And what, pray tell, couldn’t you help?”

“I thought I would never see you again.”  Barry whispered.  “Forgive me for making sure I get a good look this time.”

Len’s eyes softened.

“Besides, you’ve changed.”  Barry leaned over and kissed the new scar on Len’s ear.

“Not that much.”  Len murmured, matching Barry’s soft tone.  “Not really.”

Barry made his way down Len’s spine, kissing the jagged edges of the newest scar.

A small gasp escaped Len’s lips.  Len had told him once that he didn’t like taking off his long-sleeve shirts, even in summer, because of his scars.  Tattoos could work their magic, but Len was proud of his scars.  They showed he survived.  But often he found lovers who were uncomfortable where his obvious childhood scars lay.  But Barry, with plenty of scars of his own, loved each and every scar.  He hated the man who put them there, but he admired how Len lived with them.  On a ship where scars could be healed within moments, where losing a limb was reversible, Len had made sure to keep his scars.  Len never shied away from his past, no matter how much he hated it.  He never ran from his problems like Barry did.

So Barry made sure to show Len just how much he loved Len, every part of him.  He kissed his way down Len’s spine, taking care to watch Len’s reaction. Len’s face held a touch of uncertainty he hadn’t seen since they first started dating, but also a kind of serenity.  Once he finished Len’s spine, he gently grabbed Len’s left arm, bringing himself over Len to try and not pull the hand behind him, pressing his lips against the line of raised skin, harder than before.  Len exhaled sharply, his breath catching at Barry’s touch.

“Your handiwork?”  Barry whispered.

“Long story, but yes.”  Len admitted softly.

Barry kissed it again.  “You wanna tell me?”

“Don’t ruin the moment, Scarlet.”

Barry took that for what it was, a promise to talk later.  So Barry moved to Len’s right side.  He kissed the lichtenberg figure, brushing his lips over each branch.

“Now we match.” Barry smirked, finishing up Len’s hand.

Len cocked an eyebrow, his body relaxed but his mind as sharp as ever.

“My lightning strike.”  Barry said.  “May not have been lightning, but it bears the same scar.”

Len conceded.  “Felt like it.  From what you told me of that night.”

Barry frowned.

“It was like getting hit by one of your punches but all over and you had your lightning going.”  Len explained.  “It was an all-encompassing eternity yet it must’ve only been a few seconds.  But the people who found me, the ones who helped me get back to the Legends, they said I didn’t stop shaking for a week.”

Barry nuzzled Len’s neck.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”  Len murmured into Barry’s hair, twisting himself around to wrap around Barry as the big spoon.  “I can see a bright side to it. Brought me back, let me come home to you, helps me understand you.”

Barry couldn’t help the laugh.

“What?!?”

“You, trying to look on the bright side.”  Barry said, still laughing. “And you say you haven’t changed, you big liar.”

Len snickered with him.  “Alright, so I’ve changed a little.”

The laugh went quiet as Len kissed Barry’s hair.

“I don’t care, you know.”  Barry said, stifling a yawn.  “Doesn’t matter how you come back to me.  You can come back with no hands, or in a wheelchair, or, hell, with more scars than Mick.  It doesn’t matter.  Just as long as you come back to me.”

Barry laid his head on the pillow between Len’s shoulder and neck so he missed Len’s grateful smile.

“I promise, Scarlet, I’m always trying to come back to you.”  Len’s arms wrapped around Barry, tight enough to feel comforting not trapped.  “Every time I leave, always remember I’m trying to come back to you.”

Barry hummed contentedly.  “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”  Len whispered.  “My hero.”

...

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21052184

Whumptober Prompt #11- Stitches

I promised two in one day! I don’t know if anyone saw my first post for day 10- but I’m gonna be pretty unavailable for tomorrow. No ones responded to it yet, so I’m just gonna leave this here and hope. So here’s 11- just so y’all know it picks up where we left Michael and Fayelin after they escaped Caina. @winedark-whump

She thoroughly cleaned Nyx’s wounds with antiseptic, eliciting hisses and groans of pain from the Villain, but he never woke. She was grateful, what she had planned next would be very difficult and she had no anesthetic. After thoroughly cleaning the wounds, she brought out the needle and thread. She started with the nearly seven inch laceration on his right arm as it seemed to be the worst of his injuries that she could see. She hoped it wouldn’t get infected, but she also knew the conditions in Caina. There was a reason that Caina wasn’t on any map, Hero or otherwise, while others like Judecca and Antenora were. She worked methodically, using her gift to perfectly puncture the skin one quarter inch apart, making sure the needle went exactly where it was needed and did no further damage. She knew she risked losing herself to her work and losing sight of her surroundings, her gift did have its drawbacks, but she knew the risk to Nyx’s health outweighed it. An infection out here could be deadly. They had no way to call for extraction until they got out of the Center. The other Heroes would definitely be employing anticommunication devices and gifts alike. But she knew the range would only go so far as the edge of the Center. Otherwise, they would be sensed by military equipment and civilian alike and she knew they’d rather let her and Nyx get away than have their most vicious base discovered. If the public believed the rumors about this place, the entire Hero way of life would be forfeit.

Once she had finished with his arm, she moved to the cuts on his chest. None of them were as deep as the one on his arm so she made much quicker work of those that needed stitches. Thankfully, not all of them did. Once she completed her work to her satisfaction, she allowed herself to regain the ability to perceive her surroundings. Nyx’s lips were chapped, his chest was rising and falling slowly but not enough to make her worry, and he was thinner and paler but he seemed as all right as he could be. He needed water and food at the very least, and maybe a bath. She knew he hated to be gross, “Disgusting, honey, you call me disgusting? Girl, I don’t even know her.” She had rations for a few days, she could easily go without eating, but the water was the hard part. She only had a couple of water bottles left, as she hadn’t meant to spend so long looking for him. She would never have assumed that he would’ve been taken to Caina. She knew that he had been taken to the Center, but never could’ve imagined he’d be taken to Caina. Caina was only for the most vile and irredeemable of criminals. In fact, she was pretty sure Nyx was the first or maybe third person to ever escape Caina, as Heroes always wanted to hold onto those in it. Killian had always told her she was safe in Caina, as no one could escape. Now, Nyx wasn’t a great guy by any standard, but he wasn’t Caina material. Unless something had changed in his classification. She shuddered at that thought. If something had changed, the only reason it could be was her. It would be her fault that he’d been taken to Caina, her fault that he’d been tortured over a stupid jewelry heist that was meant to pay rent on her shitty apartment. She sighed. She hoped Nyx would wake up soon. She could really use his advice.