#flash ficlet

Jimmy cringes and is about to smash the button for Mark to come and fix this when he clocks the Ominous Presence at his back.

Oh.

"Any change?"

"I don't think so."

"Hrm." The boss looks at the chart. "Apparently we're going to have to put a memo regarding flu sh--"

"Thought you were dead."

Shit.

Jimmy had just kind of quietly hoped this would all go away. He's not sure what the Knight does or doesn't know (surely not much, the cover-up was massive), but if asked, he's proclaiming with his whole chest that he knows fuck-all, sir, pinky swear.

"You're not doing this, kid," he warned.

Adrien grit his teeth, gripping the murder weapon in his hands—it had a bulk to it that he wasn't used to, but Adrien would find a way to force it through Gabriel's head anyways. "I'm not going to let you get in my way," he snarled back. "I'm tired of letting him get away with it."

Within a single breath, Adrien's arm lit up in agony, nerves shot as if suddenly stripped from the skin and muscle and exposed to the air. The young man dropped to his knees, unable to express the pain with more than a sharp hiss lest he be caught wandering the halls this late at night. The axe nearly dropped to the floor, if not for Adrien clutching it tight in his other hand, letting himself slowly sink down. The sting had a clear source, he soon realized—his ring, illuminated green.

"Adrien. You need to listen to me when I speak to you."

"And how is this supposed to help you?" He spit back, now clinging onto the pained forearm, phantom sensations of blood and pus leaking out the unexposed muscle and onto the hallway carpet. "You're no better than my goddamn father, keeping me leashed with the threat of pain!"

Plagg didn't care to listen. "I have been nice to you so far. I've let you quit your little team, get cozy with the wrong kind of people, all of that. But you keep forgetting that you still have a part to play in this world, and you haven't been sticking to it."

Adrien kept seething and whimpering over his arm, beginning to claw at it with his nails with the fruitless hope that maybe the agony was only surface-level. Plagg lowered a paw, and Adrien's arm grew numb and dropped with it, slamming against the ground.

"Gabriel Agreste cannot die tonight. You are not the one allowed to kill him. This has never been about you. I've been too nice to you for too damn long, I guess—Or maybe you were right all along, and I should've picked another pawn entirely! But I'm putting my foot down here, Adrien—"

Adrien picked up the axe—its weight even more unwieldy in a single hand. He raised the weapon to swing it down onto his other arm and sever it at the elbow; With the flick of his paw, Plagg moved it out of harm.

"Fuck's sake, kid! What did I say about listening? You're out of control!"

Finally able to breathe comfortably again, Adrien stood up.

"Maybe," he sneered back, grasping his miraculous. "I like it better that way."

Adrien had never been much of a pitcher, but aim wasn't really his goal in this particular instance. Swinging the ring like a baseball, Adrien chucked it away, nearly losing his balance as he threw his arm out. Like a single drop of moonlight, the silver ring soared out into the lightless hallway.

Mac's heart beat filled up the space in his head, thudding louder than anything around him as he watched Jack wheeled back for surgery.

His blood was still on Mac's shirt. His voice telling Mac not to worry even as Jack's eyes slid closed and refused to open again.

Mac felt his breathing running too fast. His skin tingling and knew somewhere, peripherally, maybe he should sit down. But he just stood, rooted to the spot, staring at the doors that had just swung shut after swallowing up his best friend.

A hand slid into his limp one, slightly cooler than his own, soft and present. Bringing him back enough that he turned his head to see Bozer's concerned eyes.

Mac squeezed Bozer's hand. Bozer squeezed back.

A slightly warmer palm slid into his other hand as Riley bumped his shoulder.

"He's gonna be alright."

They didn't know that. But somehow Mac believed it. He squeezed both hands, feeling the skin slide against his own, warm and real and he believed it.

Mac took a deep slow breath and dragged both hands into his chest.

He pulled them in until their foreheads touched. Their breath softly warm against their hands. Just standing there. For as long as they needed to.

“Whoa,” he says lightly. “What’s the rush, Princey?”

Fandom: Flash/Arrow Pairing: Oliver Queen x Sage Moreaux (OC) Words: 1583 Note: Can be found on AO3 Summary: When the Crisis looms and difficult choices must be made, wedding vows are put on the line as they face down the swift moving hands of time. Warning: This ficlet has spoilers for Crisis on Infinite Earths Part 1. If you have not seen it yet, you will be spoiled. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

———-

Her finger pulsed on the trigger, sending arrow after arrow flying off her crossbow. Her heart jumped in her chest as she shuffled backwards, keeping close to her husband and her daughter. She cracked a grin, at the idea and at taking down a shadow demon. Fighting with her husband and daughter from the future? If she weren’t so used to this life, she’d wonder what Barry did to mess things up this time. Only he had no hand in bringing Izzy to her. That was luck she supposed. And she’d cherish this moment, seeing her daughter fighting with reckless abandon, saving the Earth, following in Oliver’s footsteps.

Sage returned her focus to the battle around her, ducking and dodging to hit every and any member of the Anti-Monitor’s shadow army. Ray’s blaster beams sliced through the air, dancing with Kara’s and Clark’s beams shooting from their eyes. The rest of them stayed on the ground—Barry, Oliver, Izzy, Kate—circling and keeping the enemy away one by one. Bursting into clouds of smoke and matter with every strike.

A flash of red. Barry punching out a demon.

Blue beams. Kara and Clark twisting around, taking down demons diving from above.

A smear of green. Oliver—no—Izzy flipping through a well-aimed kick, curly hair flying.

Sage’s heart swelled with pride at the direct hit.

Izzy would be okay.

They’d all be okay.

Blue flashing and twisting within a cloud appeared to Sage’s left and she cursed beneath her breath at the sight of the Monitor. No! Not now! This can’t be it!

“The battle is lost,” the Monitor announced, stepping out of the temporal gateway. “We must retreat and save our resources for battles yet to come.”

Sage glanced at Oliver, at her husband, out the corner of her eye. He barely reacted to the Monitor’s statement, still drawing back his bow, still fighting. But she spotted it in his eye, through the grease smeared around the skin, through the mask. A fleeting sort of hesitancy that made her, for one second, rethink everything. But then the fire reignited and he kept going, his movements so fluid and graceful that for a brief moment she stared, took in the beautiful sight of him. She steadied her jaw. That’s that, then.

Her finger pulsed on the trigger.

Puffs of blue clouded smoke enveloped them one by one. Kate. Ray. Kara. Clark.

Izzy! She turned a halfstep, a shout dancing on the tip of her tongue, to warn, but it died away when she was enveloped too. Doubts careened around her. She stood and watched as her daughter, her baby, disappeared before her eyes.

Was this still right? Was she doing the right thing? There was still a chance, to spend time with her, to be there for her little girl. One unplanned but never unwanted.

“Oliver!”

Barry’s shout made her whip around, a searing pain lodging in her chest at the sight of Oliver being knocked over.

She gripped her crossbow. No. She need to be here.

Her eyes locked with the Monitor’s and he lifted his hand. “No!” she snarled with such a ferocity that it rumbled in her chest. He paused and she shook her head. The Monitor’s head inclined, a single nod. Confirmation.

She nodded back.

“Oliver,” the Monitor called out, shifting his attention. Sage did the same, lifting her crossbow and firing more arrows. They whizzed through the sky, hitting each mark. Bursting every target. “It is time.”

“Has the planet been evacuated yet?” Oliver demanded, his gruff words sending a shiver down her spine.

“Not entirely,” the Monitor replied.

“Then it’s not time!” Oliver

Oliver looked at Sage. It crept all the way down to her toes, unsteadying her for a second in only the way that Oliver could manage to make her waver. She closed her eyes, engraving that look in her mind, in her heart.

“Sage—”

“Ollie,” she interrupted him, eyelids flying open, eyes hardening.

“Go.”

“No.”

“Sage, don’t—”

Sage grasped at the insignia on her midnight blue suit, twisted it to the left. It cranked and clicked until she stopped and then slapped it, pushing it a few inches inwards. Blue beams shot off from the insignia and traveled down the inner arms of her suit, crawling up to her palms. Energy surged through her and she dropped the crossbow, holding up her hands, thrusting them outwards as she concentrated.

A thin, blue dome popped up around them. The shadow demons all halted, stopped in midair, frozen. Pain rolled in waves in Sage’s head. Tears formed on the bottom lids of her eyes and a warm, wet trail slid down from her left nostril. It slipped over her lips and she stuck out her tongue, taking in the familiar metallic taste of blood. Oliver whipped around, looking this way and that as she gritted her teeth, straining.

“Wha…?”

“Froze time,” she uttered.

“You can—?”

“I can now,” she said. Her legs began to tremble. “It’s new. I don’t use it much.” She sucked in a hissing breath through her teeth as he approached. “Don’t have much time. Just needed…to say something.”

She focused on Oliver’s echoing footsteps rather than the flames licking at her muscles, coursing beneath her skin, and cracking her skull. Her breaths came out in ragged, hissing bursts but she kept her eyes on him. On Oliver. And she leaned into his comforting touch when his gloved hand cupped her cheek and his forehead pressed against hers.

“I’m…I’m s-so…proud of you,” she uttered, doing her best to keep her strength. In her words. In her body. In her resolve. “Oliver Queen, I’m so proud of you. And—and I love you. You gave me a b-beautiful daughter…and a beautiful life. And I th-thank you.”

“I love you,” Oliver said. He pressed a kiss to her lips, the blood clinging when he pulled away. He didn’t move to wipe it away. “You need to go.” His breath ghosted across her lips. She took in his scent, cologne mixed in with leather and mint. So uniquely Oliver.

Sage shook her head. ‘’Til death do us part, remember?” His eyes darkened and his jaw set. A little muscle twitched near the back, below his ear. His lips pressed into a line and, oh, how she wanted to kiss those lips again. One last time.

But she couldn’t move.

Not yet.

The field would break and then… It wasn’t time.

They needed to be ready.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“I can’t ask you—”

“You didn’t. And you won’t. This…this is what has to happen. I’m fine with it. This is what I want. You’re what I want.”

Oliver’s hand curled on his bow. He nodded, his nose nuzzling against hers. A low hum sounded in the back of her throat at their touch. She nodded. With a groan, she dropped her arms. The dome around them broke, shattering into small glittering pieces that rained down on the rooftop beneath them. Sound hit them all at once. The screeching of the shadow demons vibrated her bones and turned her stomach but her resolve steeled.

Staggering back to her feet, she pushed her hair back out of her face as Oliver lifted a bow and in one, fluid, sure gesture, shot it at the Monitor. Sage turned her back on him as he fell to the ground, electricity coursing over his body.

Lifting her stinging arms, Sage readied her crossbow, recalled all the marksman training her uncle Joe, and her father, and Oliver had put her through, and fought.

And fought

And fought. She rolled and dodged away from swooping shadow demons, landing swift kicks and punches to those that got close enough. A few exploded with the force of her swinging her crossbow around, catching them in the sides.

An explosion knocked her off her feet. A loud ringing screamed in her ears, her vision tilted, and her breath stuttered as she rolled around, trying to get back to her feet. Trying to fight. Soot and dirt coated the inside of her mouth, sucking the moisture out. Her coughs, ragged and hacking, seized her body and famed the flickering flames of ache.

Sage got to her feet, unsteady. Her eyes darted around until she spotted Oliver on the ground. “Ollie!” She clumsily skirted the debris and slabs of concrete on the roof top and dropped to his side. He swung his legs around, lifting into a kneeling position as he reached back for an arrow.

He grabbed air.

She held her gloved hand out to him and he grasped it, allowing her to help him to his feet. Their grip tightened as they looked in one another’s eyes, their breaths steadying. She squeezed hard and slipped her hand out of his grasp, turning to face the shadow army head on. Flashes of her family flittered through her mind: Uncle Joe, Iris, Wally, Barry, Nora, Caitlin, Cisco, Ralph, Cecile, her daughter Izzy.

Oliver.

“By the way.” Sage dragged the back of her hand against her mouth and turned a half-smile over to Oliver, coupled with a wink. “Happy anniversary.”

Kylux O, I’ll go with that. It’s Forceless Kylo and Emperor Hux, about five years after the end of chapter 30 of the main fic.

“It’s our wedding anniversary. On a literal paradise planet. You’re supposed to watch the sunset with me at least once.“

“To watch the sun set would require getting outside, and I have no intention to do that.“

“Because of the sand? It’s a beach, Hux. You can’t have a beach house without sand around it.“

“Around it, yes. In my sheets, no. That devilish stuff gets everywhere. And now get back here. I’m getting cold.“

“It’s tropically hot out there,“ Kylo grumbled even as he obeyed, crawling under the sheets to press himself against Hux’s side.

“You’re hotter,“ Hux purred, wrapping himself blissfully around Kylo’s body. Then he momentarily frowned as if the cheesiness of his own line offended him. Then they both burst out laughing. 

“Can’t believe you’re determined to spend the entire holiday in bed. Again.“

“You didn’t complain last time. Or the one before that.“

“If I told you six - hah, maybe a little over five years ago that you’ll one day demand to spend days holed up in a room with me–“

“I’d have told you to seek medical attention. And possibly gone to reconditioning myself to forget even the idea of it,“ Hux grinned lazily, eyes half closed and fingers playing with the long strands of Kylo’s hair. His own was getting longer, now that it wasn’t held up and back with gel. 

“Right,“ Kylo was still chuckling. “Can’t forget your outrage at the mere suggestion we could share a honeymoon suite that one time on that pleasure cruiser. Remember the spousal belts fiasco?“

Hux gasped theatrically, propping himself up on one elbow and gazing down on Kylo in mock dismay. 

“I knew I was forgetting something! I was meaning to get us proper spousal belts for years now!“

Kylo snorted and rolled them over, laying his head on Hux’s chest that still shook with the occasional giggle. 

“What do you think happened to that pair of bounty hunters we locked in the suite?” he inquired after a while. 

Hux yawned. “Last time I checked, they were settled on Lothal and going through the legal adoption process for their second child.”

“What?“ Kylo blinked up on him. Hux shrugged. 

“Sometimes it takes locking up two people in a confined space to admit to mutual attraction.“

“That’s it? That’s all it takes? I had to be attacked by a kriffing vornskr for you to–“

Jason, blissfully oblivious, continues stirring the radioactive orange powder into the...Scooby-Doo-shaped...pasta. She wants to scream. It won’t help, won’t even get the lights to flicker, but still.

The dog jumps up on the counter, tail wagging, and snuffles at Jason’s elbow. Catherine sighs and scrubs at her face.

“Don’t let him eat that,” she pleads. “He has vegetables in the fridge. I saw them. He can eat those.”

Lemon, who always gets a bite of the non-nutritious crap, ignores her.

 --implied romantic LAMP flash ficlet of 353 words. Human AU. Unedited. Just an image that popped in my head.

...

The windows are down and Roman takes in a deep breath of the moonlit wind that grazes his cheekbones and runs its fingers through his hair. It smells like wildflowers and sunshine despite the stars that blanket the sky above them on the empty road.

The radio catches on the wind and swirls around Roman in soft acoustic. It is nearly as soft as the boy in the passenger seat beside him—his mess of curls playing in the wind, his arms folded on the edge of the window. The highway streetlights catch in the reflection of his round glasses and cast freckled face in repeating orange glows. He squints against the wind, but make no move to pull his face back in.

Roman glances in the rearview, his steady beating heart tripping in his chest at the two boys in the back. The warm spring wind tugs insistently at the edges of the hood of the one in the sweatshirt, slumped over the seat so that his head rests in the crook of the other’s neck like a puzzle piece now at home. The other had, at some point in the past few hours before falling asleep, slid into the middle seat. He’d murmured something about helping the other boy’s posture before folding his glasses, sliding them into the pocket of the passenger seat, tugging his tie slightly loose from his neck, and leaning his head on the top of the other’s.

They’re both dead asleep. The one with the tie has strands of hair falling across his eyes, tugged loose from the breeze whipping through the windows. His lips are slightly parted. Roman can’t really see the other’s face, too obscured by the hoodie, his disheveled hair, and his partner’s neck.

Roman glances at the clock. It’s a little past midnight.

“You okay?”

The question comes from the passenger eat in a soft whisper that is nearly swept away in the wind. Roman glances at him.