#fff68

A/N: Thanks to the Flarrowverse Shipyward, I have found a new rarepair. So, this is a tale about Larry Trainor from Doom Patrol and John Constantine. And how they met each other through an unconventional set-up. This is also a gift to KEO for making me ship them.^^

Word Count: 722

TW: None, except Larry being insecure I guess

***

Nightfall proved to be a time, where caution proved to be necessary. Larry walked down, approaching a bench to sit down. He occupied a corner, lifting his head up.

I decided to try my hand at the latest challenge by @flashfictionfridayofficial​! I don’t often write poetry, but this just came to me. Hopefully you’ll enjoy! Word Count: 116

We meet at midnight Under the jacaranda tree We meet at midnight, Two souls drawn together Undercover of the moonlight.

We meet at midnight The world behind us a distant dream We meet at midnight Exchanging kisses that taste like ice cream At midnight, we meet, My heart in your hand At midnight, we meet Catch me if you can.

We meet at midnight Shivering in the crisp October air I kiss you deeply Light rain dampens your hair

“....back-ups continue past the exit for Mass Ave...”

Her fingers itched to flip the radio off as she descended from I-395 into the tunnel. Time stood at the entrance, peering in at the overhead yellow lane lights. It didn’t matter the hour, the tunnel was eternal.

At the moment, it was also filled with angry red tail lights and the overlapping, muffled playlists of pissed off drivers. The radio skipped through static, clinging to the last vestige of the outside world.

Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, that very specific late-for-something-and-stuck-traffic feeling washing over her.

Ten minutes.

She had time.

Someone laid on their horn, getting angry glares and muffled curses.

“Whadda want me to do about it?” the Hyundai driver with an out of state accent yelled.

She inched past on the right as the shouts escalated.

Five minutes.

The traffic rolled to a complete stop. Taillights mixed with the tunnel lighting, glistening on the tiled walls. The closed-in space amplified the rumble of exhausts.

A light up sign on her right informed her it was 365 feet to the emergency exit in one direction and 432 feet on the other.

Her hands slipped on the steering wall, sweat greasing her palms.

Two minutes.

A siren echoed behind her, an ambulance forcing them all to hug the sides and then fight their way back in. Her heart was in her throat.

The radio had finally, mercifully, descended into pure static.

“You’re late.”

“There should not be others around,” the shapeless void in the passenger seat stated.

“You’re still late.”

“Perhaps you should have come at a wiser time.”

“What do you want me to do about this?” she asked, waving a hand at the traffic in front of her. “Accidents are your domain.”

“It isn’t one of mine.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine, one she tried hard to suppress. In futility, the Void noticed all, seeing right through her bravado.

“You should not have come,” it said, as they crept passed a CRV were a child screamed at her passenger and then excitedly tried to get their mother’s attention.

Red, white, and blue flickered off the curve of the subway tile in her rear view mirror.

“We don’t have much time.”

“You’re the one with the time consuming rituals,” she muttered under breath.

The cops choose to run the shoulder, streaking past. The Void was staring at her reproachfully. She could feel it.

“Again, not my fault there’s traffic at midnight.”

“Excuses are a dangerous game.”

They were stopped, fifteen feet from the end of the tunnel, she could see moonlight pouring onto the sidewalk.

“Do you wish to renegotiate our deal.”

It wasn’t a question so much as an out. Straight to hell or the long way round? She gripped the steering wheel tighter and lifted her chin.

“No.”

The dam broke and the cars rolled forward, drifting past the flashing emergency lights and mangled corpses of cars, flames licking at the undercarriage of a cherry red Mustang.

Her passenger seat was empty.

“Do not disappoint me,” a non-existent voice whispered in her head. “Or you will be next.”

Her hands gripped the steering wheel, resolve as grim as the sharpened blade on the seat next to her.

They say there's a world,

Just north of the east;

They say it brings suffering

And magic likes it least.

They say, to this world,

Three parties will lurk,

None knowing of the other,

Hoping plans will work.

Connected by somebody

Who lost nobody's fight,

They say this to their own:

"We meet at midnight."

...

The first were her friends,

Who first knew she was lost.

Determined to get her back,

No matter the cost.

A King, Hope, Despair,

Two twins lost to time,

A queen, god-turned-man,

Commit the perfect crime.

The heroes they denounced

Would never have to know

If they made this journey quick,

So at midnight, they shall go.

...

The second, sister not by blood.

Her fear described not.

And so, with the help of a prince,

She made her master plot.

With magic at her fingertips,

And wrath with her, at her side,

She still felt a fear within her,

It could not be shaken if she tried.

But even fear could not stop her

From saving her friend,

So at midnight, she would go,

Not stopping 'til the end.

...

The third, had no connection.

He didn't know her name,

He barely knew her face,

But wished to help all the same.

With a blade within his hands,

And a loyal friend at his side,

He vowed to break her out

As he'd done so many times.

So when the day was young,

And the clock chimed for midnight,

Onward he would go,

To fight nobody's fight.

...

The meeting of three,

Who knew no one prior

Allowed them all to succeed

And make it somewhere higher.

She who lost the fight

Was saved before the sun,

And the world with magic's hate

Had once again not won.

But this is not the end;

There's always another fight.

And when that time comes, they say:

"We meet at midnight."

[Image Description: a blue and white banner, similar to a cloudy night sky. The line “#FFF68 We meet at midnight” is written in white letters at the center. End ID.]

Like all weeks, thanks to the wonderful guys at @flashfictionfridayofficial​ for this!

I had two ideas in mind for this one, both of them regarding the backstories of two characters from my wip Magicians of Sky and Sea, but in the end I picked the one that sounded the most interesting.

So here it is!

Title: The Bribe

Warnings: none.

We shall meet at midnight.

This is what the Spirit had said. Floria, covered in a cape and with a suitcase that weighed heavily in her hand, repeated the words in her mind as she crossed the forest path under the starlight.

The trees bellowed in the howling wind, dark trunks that soon engulfed her in the darkness, her house far away from her feet and her mind.

She took a deep breath.

“Let’s do this.”

This is my entry for this week’s prompt! I wanted to develop the characters I created for FFF66 because I grew fond of them. A more angsty piece this time!

“Cassie”

597 words

Tw: mention of death/disease, a child hurt

Atticus was passing slowly up and down the back alley, checking his holographic watch every two steps: three minutes and twenty two seconds before midnight. It could be a cliché hour - that's what Atticus read in stories from before the domes - but out there the day was more dangerous than anything that once could have been lurking in the darkness. Fairy tales, nothing more. He had more important thing to worry about than monsters or ghosts or wolfs roaming into the forest. There was no forest anymore anyway. And he had no one to tell them to since...

The maintenance men retreated under a porch when a family of four walked past him. It was a lot harder to be discreet when everybody else was outside. One minute and thirty eight seconds before midnight. He pulled his hood further on his face, folded his arms, unfolded them to check his watch, folded them again, shifted to try and ajust his coast without unfolding his arm again, sweet Earth he couldn't wait any longer! Twelve seconds before midnight. Eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight.

"Ready or not, here I come!"

The memory shook Atticus awake just as a silhouette stopped near him, swallowed a nicotine pill, and leaned against a wall. The newcomer was waiting for Atticus to say something first, of course, he knew how it works. One deep breath before telling his soul.

"You know about the Cassiopeia Project obviously, who doesn't?"

Just a nod. But it was enough. Atticus continued with his voice down.

"I want names. We've heard about some of the programmers, the project manager but I want to know who is behind all this. The twisted mind that started it all. I'll pay for any information that you can find on this person."

"I don't do industrial espionnage."

The voice answered flately.A nervous chuckle escaped Atticus throat. The fiston he was restlessly jumping opened and closed since the arrived clenched.

"No, I can assure you it is personal. This monster took something… someone dear to my heart from me. They ruined my life and I'll make them pay. Can you find this information or not?"

One long minute of silence, Atticus so tensed he barely breathed, the other one very still, thinking intensely before dropping with the same emotionless voice.

"Two week from now, same place, same hour. Four thousand cash."

And just has it arrived, the spy disappeared in the shadows and Atticus was left alone with his thoughts, his emotion storming in his brain. Surprise. Confusion. Fear. Horror. Shame. It took him several minutes to realise his nails were digging in the palm of his hands. He shuddered, and fought back a yawn. Ten past midnight, but he couldn't bare the thought of going back home. Instead his hand wandered into his pocket, caressing a photo he didn't even need to look at anymore. The smile of the six years old girl was engraved in his memory: eyes sparkling with curiosity, one tooth missing but she didn't seem to care. Her unruly hair was tied into two askew braids - she insisted on braiding them herself and of course daddy accepted. She was so lively even frozen in this picture. More alive than the breathing ghost lying in the children bedroom where no one was playing anymore. 

Hi. It's the first time that I have been able to participate in the @flashfictionfridayofficial​ challenge. I hope you like it. 

Word Count:991

Little Becky was curious to know more about who was spying on her and so she was getting ready to see the stranger.

"He had talked to meet you in the yard at midnight." - thought – “But how do I get out of this room? And if my owner realizes that I am gone, what will happen? I like him very much despite the things he does to me, but what if he finds me and makes me into pieces?”

The doll got tired of thinking so much and taking advantage that her human was not in the room decided to go in search of her spy. Advancing through the rooms of the house, being a little difficult to see because of the height, I could see the small hand of the clock pointing to the number eight and the big one pointing to the nine.

"It is still too early." - concluded with satisfaction –“I think I'll be able to get to the yard in time.”

Becky, even with a broken leg, passed through the rooms with all the dexterity she had. But she didn't expect anyone to notice her, much less want that. However, the boy Ryan who was in the living room playing a video game noticed a small shadow that seemed strange to him.

The boy paused the game and went to see what it was like while the little porcelain doll passed the corners of the house with difficulties. He went to the dark kitchen and when he heard her footsteps approaching Becky hid under the cupboards.

Ryan turned on the light and couldn't see anything strange, so he turned off the light again and closed the door. Realizing that the boy had already left, the doll saw the perfect opportunity to try to open the door that led to the yard.

Becky took one of the doorknobs from the cupboards under the kitchen and pushed herself to get to the middle of the cupboard. When she finally reached it she continued to climb, this time to the top of the closet. She did all this while Ryan heard the noise of her attempts in the living room. The boy couldn't take his curiosity and went to check the kitchen again.

The doll tensed when she heard the footsteps again especially now that she was about to reach the door, but she just concentrated on giving the handle the right push to get it open and leave the house for good. She jumped with everything reaching precisely for the handle and with the right movement opened the door. Then he went to the ground, but ended up splitting one of his legs and a little bit of his head in the process.

The boy arrived at the kitchen suspicious because of the various noises and found the backyard door open. Remembering that he had seen the door closed the last time; he approached the door and heard another noise among the bushes and after that he saw a small figure moving among them.

Curiosity continued to speak louder, Ryan went into the yard, and Becky, desperate, continued to run with much effort. The boy chased her for almost an hour guided by the movements of the bushes until his parents called him to sleep. Becky only succeeded in losing him once more when she hid in a den under a tree and in absolute silence.

No longer feeling the boy's presence around, the doll came out of hiding and can finally go after her spy. She was afraid he might have missed the hour, but she still waited for some time in the bushes beside a wooden fence.

"So you did come." Said a distant voice.

Becky looked around for the owner or owner of the voice and heard wing flaps close to where she was and a crow appeared beside it. The doll was startled and screamed in fear.

"Don't be afraid, little one." Said the crow.

She froze.

“The cat ate your tongue?” - Asked the raven before laughing.

"Why were you spying on me?" - questioned the doll still afraid.

"Ah, so let's get straight to the point. I didn't spy on you on purpose. I just found it curious that a doll was moving.”

"That is none of your business."

"Why were you trying to escape?" Asked the animal.

“You already have your answer: it's none of your business.”

"That boy doesn't treat you well, does he?"

Becky fell silent. She didn't want to give any information to this unwanted company, but the crow surprised her by sweeping right in front of her by removing her cotton dress. The doll felt embarrassed to see that the marks on her body and her thimble prosthesis were in sight.

"Don't you see that being in that house you will be broken at any moment?"

"Ryan likes me a lot. I cannot leave him and I am very happy with him.”

"If your owner really liked you, he certainly wouldn't have those marks and that thing in the middle of your leg."

“It was an accident.”

"Various accidents, you mean. And if you're really as happy as you say you are, I ask you again why you were running away that night.”

"That was a mistake. I realized moments later that I shouldn't be doing that.”

"You acknowledge that he treats you badly, but you don't want to admit it. You will have at least two destinations if you stay there: to be forgotten or to be broken.”

 Those words brought discomfort to Becky, who knew the creature was telling the truth.

"If you want, I have a perfect plan to get you out of there."

She knew there were no more advantages to being in that house, but she liked her owner very much and didn't want to be without him. Even so, she decided to venture into the unknown.

Note: Another flash fiction for @flashfictionfridayofficial​ ! This is actually a (possible) scene out of the larger story/book I’m trying to write with these characters. Let’s see what late night talk we have going on, yes?

Victoria comes sneaking into the kitchen, moving as quiet as she can when she brave the steep stairs that take her downstairs. Having gone up the stairs to change her clothes, she knows her sister and mother are sleeping soundly in their beds, each of them needing the rest.

Victoria could not sleep, and while she wish she had someone to discuss her nighttime troubles with, she was not about to visit it all on the other, safely slumbering, occupants of the house. Meeting your biological family was not an every day event, and she doubted they'd understand her anyway. 

"Vicky, why are you up?"

Speaking of the Devil, and it shall appear. Looking up from her feet, she saw her mother  already standing in the kitchen. The sharp overhead lights accented the deep, dark marks under her eyes, and it was clear the woman had not left bed because she felt rested. 

"Too much excitement yesterday" Vicky said softly, wrapping her arm around her mother's back, wanting to help her to a chair. "Though I could ask you the same. Why do we meet at midnight?" She ask, peering over at the clock. 12:01, just a minute over the midnight hour.

"My back" Annabelle replied simply, smiling wryly as she pushed away a few grey curls from her face. "You know how it goes" She laughed as she sat down, sighing. “Keeps you up.” 

Victoria sighed. "Oh mum" She chewed her lip, worrying for her. "When were you last to see a Doctor about it? Maybe…" She begin to try and give her mother advice, but is not allowed to finish.

"Vicky. Stop" She said sternly. "Don't do this. To me and to you. I will be fine, and that is it. Understood?"

Vicky complied. Wordlessly, she sank down on the second kitchen chair. "Yes" She confirmed simply. “I understand.”

Anna nodded sharply, satisfied. "Good. Well, we can make the best of our midnight get together. How did it go with Sally?"

Victoria smiled softly. “Well, she is young...and innocent. You know? It’s so hard to imagine she is the master brain in all this, because she doesn’t even seem to understand what it is that she is really doing, and how this impacts us.” She pause. “I’ve never had a biological family. I never knew there was someone out there who cared. And then... she shows and tells me she’s spent a year just looking. A year! Just looking for me”

Anna lean forward, elbows on the table as she listen to her child. "I never thought you'd find them. The background you had when you came to me...it's not the sort of children that get reintroduced to their parents" She pondered. "I liked it that way, truthfully. The thought of not getting to keep you girls in the end...it's too painful. Too hurtful." There is almost tears in her eyes when she voice those words, fear still squeezing her heart forty years later. 

Vicky watched her mother all but break down into tears, and felt her heart aching for her. "Oh mum…" She moves closer, rounding the table and wrapping her arm around her mother's bent back. "You're not jealous, are you?" She tease her.

Anna looks up at her daughter and shrug her shoulders. "Perhaps a little" She admit, smiling. "I just love you. You're my daughter just as much as if I'd birthed you."

"And you will always be my mother" Vicky assured her, holding her mother tight. "Forever. I may have set name to my past...but you. You, will always be my mother." She said strongly. “There is no one else”

“What are you people doing down here? Have you people never heard of sleep?!”

Raechel stands in the doorway, trying to get adjusted to the light of the kitchen. She sees the silhouettes of her sister and mother by the kitchen table, and the glowing letters of the wall clock reads 12:30 AM. It’s a typical thing, if not a healthy thing. “You always do this!”

Annabelle sat up straighter, going form slouching over the kitchen table to try and relieve her back to sitting straight. “We were just talking. the late night bug bit us” She said softly. “No need to worry. I’m sorry if we woke you up”

Vicky looked embarrassed, shrugging. “Sorry big sis.” She apologized.