next-time-on-the-reverse - Tumblr blog

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Hey, I hope everything is going well for you <3!

It has been way too long since I've interacted with this blog, I'm doing better than I care to admit, and nothing is going horrendous, other than my job and my colleagues being too bothered by my personal life, but that's not something for me to get to worked up over

I send back the same regards, I hope everything is going well for you. Hopefully everyone will get to see the new fics that I have lined up

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Omygod it’s been ages since you have last uploaded

How are you !!

I've been good, working on a few short fics that should be ready for upload soon, I just need to add the finishing touches. I keep being distracted by drawing, (figured out I have that hidden talent - I say that I mainly draw manga/anime styled) I can't remember the last post I uploaded, it's been way too long, but with it being spooky season and then winter there a billion fic ideas spinning around my head

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are you ok?

Are you ok, anon?

I’m as ok as I can be, and hopefully going to dust off this blog and upload again sometime

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Broke my heart - Ward Meachum

It hadn’t been a conscious decision to arrive at the dominating building. Once she’d arrived back here; she had found herself lost in the nostalgia of it all. The buildings hadn’t changed; not one bit. A few of them no longer housed the same tenants but the memories in the brick work still remained.

Rand still held the same looming dread that it had when she was younger. She remembered the eerily busy hallways that she once ran wild in with Danny, Ward and Joy. Her heart froze at the pictures flooding her mind, the three of them laughing as they hide random objects belonging to Danny’s father.

“I promise it’s not as scary as it looks” The voice caught her off-guard. Her hand lifting to her chest as she jumped. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to – Speedy?” It had been years since someone had called her that. That nickname had died when she had left; after Danny had died, after she’d found out about Ward’s abus- she knocked the memory from her mind.

“I- you must have me confused. I have to go” She hurried through her sentence as she clung to the strap of her bag. She barely registered the features of her new companion, not until he had sprinted after her retreating form. His eyes hadn’t changed; the knowing innocence flickered around as though there was nothing but good in the world. He looked so different and yet, she instantly knew who he reminded her of. Danny. Danny was dead = had been dead, if she was to believe the news articles.

“No, no. It’s me. Danny. You used to spit paper at me with Ward, and play chess on a Friday with me. Joy made you a statue for your birthday but you dropped it so I glued it back together whilst you and Ward comforted her. They said you’d moved away, after my ‘death’”  Danny smiled as he emphasised his words. He flicked his fingers up in quotation marks. “Come on, I’m just going to meet them. They’ll be ecstatic that you’re here”

Without hesitation, Danny grabbed her hand. He pulled her into the building racing to the elevator. He kept raving and reminiscing the entire time. Her eyes fell to the bottom of the elevator door, where it met the ground. She let the words fall into the background as she pictured the day she left New York.

She waited longer than necessary, she missed two trains waiting before she boarded the final one. She clutched the second ticket tightly in her fingers as she watched the buildings blur. She’d sent several messages, she rung his home phone. She’d even email, but he hadn’t answered. He was too late.

“Megan is Ward in? Oh could get Joy to join us?” Danny questioned; the woman sat diligently behind the desk nodded before pointing towards the furthest corner. The door had been left open and for a second she could see the left arm of its inhabitant. She froze. The offices had changed little since she was younger. She wondered if behind the back panel of the third elevator she would find the initials. She allowed the smile to grace her features as she tightened her hold on her bag strap.

“I don’t think this is a good idea Danny” She whispered; she wondered if he had heard her or if in his hurry to the office, he had elected to ignore her protest. The nerves had begun to spiral in her stomach, her eyes darting between her hands and the man. She inhaled deeply, settling on the ring wrapped around her left ring finger.

“Nonsense, Ward used to be infatuated with you, Joy told me so. Never stopped talking about you when we were kids. I think he was going to ask you to a dance at one point. He’ll be over the moon you’re here” Rand bounced with each word. His own smile shifting into a grin. He entered the room first; his sudden appearance startling the inhabitant as he muttered his goodbyes.

“I have to go, a madman just entered my office” He grumbled. He hadn’t changed. She found his disgruntled words amusing, as she followed behind Danny. She kept her head down, unable to look at him. He probably didn’t remember her. “Speedy? Danny what-“

“So what’s the big emergency?” Joy’s voice cooed from the opposite door. She did a double take as she glanced at her brother. The shocked expression dancing across his features as he stood immediately. “Ward, you actually need to breath” Joy warned him.

“Hey Joy, long time no see” She laughed lightly, attempting to ease the tension building. The younger Meachum turn swiftly, her eyes widening and a smile forming. She was surprised but, unlike Ward, had recovered almost immediately. Her arms flying around the newest intruder at Rand.

“Oh my God, when did you get back?” Joy questioned.

“This morning, I thought I’d go for a walk before I had to check in at my hotel. I ended up here and met, the very much alive Danny” She responded. “It’s good to see you well, Joy. And you to Ward”

Joy stepped back, dropping her arms. She turned to look at her still shocked brother. She could see the unspoken words attempting to form in his mind. This was a conversation, neither Danny nor her needed to be witness to. Joy all but grabbed Danny by the arm, dragging him from the office.

“Hey” She waved. Ward blinked. “You never used to be so gobsmacked. Mr I have a one liner for everything” She added.

“What are you doing back?” He queried, his eyes roaming her body. They settled on her left hand, the facts were aligning in his head. Ward cleared his throat, fingers idly playing with the papers on his desk. “Congratulations, I think this is where I say it. Nice guy?” He questioned.

“He’s kind. Not my first choice but it wouldn’t have worked out with them anyway” She muttered. Ward nodded. “I’m sorry I should leave. It was good seeing you Ward.”

“That’s it. It’s been years and that’s it. Hi, Ward, stuck for words. Oh by the way I’m getting married, bye” Ward growled. He was angry. He had no right to be, but he was. He felt the sharp sting of jealousy hidden amongst his fury.

“How dare you? You never followed me Ward, I waited at the train station for three hours for you, after everything we went through. You just let me go, you left me alone. Why? What could’ve been more important? Did I mean nothing? Did those late nights when you would turn up at my parents home, bloody, bruised and crying after Harold had got angry, did they mean nothing. I patched you up, I comforted you for hours, I covered for you. We were going to run away. It was your idea and you left me to feel like an idiot. Don’t stand there and get angry with me because I’m getting married.” She shouted. “I love you Ward and you broke my heart” she fumed. 

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Rarest Sight - Earth 2 Harrison Wells

The rarest sighting in Central City was, and would always be, seeing Harry Wells sleeping. The man had developed a skill for working on fumes as he busied himself with helping the team. He’d always been like that; for as long as he’d been on this Earth, there had been no rest for the wicked and the wicked in this case was Harry.

Not once, in there battle with Zoom, had they stumbled across a passed out Harry. Or at least not of his free will - There had been that brief time Patty had shot him -  When he finally rested he, once he’d beaten the bad guy with the team and found Jesse, he’d been plagued by the memory of losing her. His rage haunted him and twisted every calm scene in his head, into a monstrous chaos. His failures piled into his mind trapping him until he woke in a cold sweat and busied himself.

“I’m heading home, Star Trek and sleep are calling to me” Cisco yawned, his arms spread wide in a relaxing stretch. “Plus, my tests won’t be done until tomorrow morning, and DeVoe’s been eerily quiet-“

“Cisco, it’s fine. Go home, I’ll finish up and head home myself” Her words comforted the younger man as he lifted himself from his seat.

“Can you do me a favour?” Cisco paused at the exit. His body swivelling on his heels. He pointed his index finger in no particular direction as he awaited the response. She nodded, a drained smile crossing her features. “Can you check on Harry, this whole thing is really getting to him.”

“Sure, I remember the time you called him a dick, and now you’re checking on him like family. How times have changed” She reminisced as she closed the windows she had open. Staring at the same articles weren’t going to help her anytime soon. With a mocking comment, briefly ignored, Cisco had left in search of his home. She reached for her mug as she headed off to find Harry.

He’d been slumped over the desk when she had found him, a deep frown etched into his features as he inhaled and exhaled sharply. Quietly her mug had been placed on the shelving by the door; it was a rare sight to see and she found herself edging closer to the man. She wanted to wake him; guide him to where he had made his bed.

When Harry’s features contorted into fear she found her eyes widening. He eyes moved erratically as his breathing shortened. She heard him release the softest of cries, he wasn’t in pain. He was scared. Petrified of whatever his mind had been throwing at him. She ran her hands gently through his hair. A move her mother had done for her whenever she was having a nightmare.

“What are you doing?” His voice, heavy with fear and sleep, rattled through his skull. He had yet to open his eyes. She hesitated.

“You were having a nightmare” She whispered, “I came to check on you” She finished. It was now he opened his eyes, she saw the tears threatening to spill, she saw the ache he was feeling in that fleeting moment before he could compose himself. She didn’t think as she hugged him. She felt him stiffen before relaxing, his shoulders shivering as he allowed the weakness to flood him.

“I don’t think I can stop him” Harry faltered.

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Paths - Eobard Thawne/Eowells

It was only a matter of time before the two crossed paths once more. If he was entirely honest, he had hoped that it wouldn’t be under the irony of the building they had both helped build. Albeit on different Earths. Eobard’s chest felt horrifically heavy; it had since he’d adorned the new emblem for his own safety. Even more now that he shared the same atmosphere as someone he cared dearly about. He’d been searching for them since they’d arrived; his legs carrying him faster than he’d imagined as he set about his second task of the day. Every time they forgot about him he’d search, until he’d hear the dulcet tones of his new overlord and then he’d back to his first duty.

Harry was never supposed to be there; or maybe he had. Neither of them could be sure as they stood opposite each other. Eobard struggled to keep his attention on his doppelganger – if he could call Harry that – truth be told it should be the other way round. Eobard had given up on his true identity for now, it hurt Barry more to have Harrison’s features. Yet identically it hurt someone else just the same and he knew he’d see it in their eyes when he found them.

“I wouldn’t” Harry’s voice corralled Eobard’s thoughts back to the present. This situation had never meant to arise. The Earth 2 doppelganger showed no fear, a trait Thawne admired, as he inhaled. Intimidation wasn’t a new activity for Harry; in his long career he’d needed the skill.

“Wouldn’t what?” Eobard drawled. He was struggling to understand what the man was saying. At first he assumed he was warning Eobard not to maim him in some way, or not to help the villains this once. A stubborn plea to appeal towards Thawne’s dwindling humanity.

“It’ll hurt her, knowing you’re here. She’s been through enough, don’t you think?” Wells whispered; it was small. The way the question faltered as his confidence shrunk. A smirk formed on Thawne’s features; he knew what had squashed the confidence. He knew the feeling better than anyone. “I’m asking you to let her move on, you’re no good for her. I’ve seen broken people before and none of them cry like her. None of them ache like she did, but she’s moving past that. She’s smiling more. Seeing you will just destroy her. So I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t go looking for her. I wouldn’t be selfish”

“That’s where we’re different” Eobard hummed, he took a minute to look around. His eyes watching the surroundings, he noted the darkened shadow in the hallway outside. A short chuckle resonating in his throat. “You’ve fallen in love with her. But you’re not selfish enough to tell her. I guess I am”

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Me and my best friend, made a podcast. Irrelevant to the blog I know, but if you’re bored give it a listen. It’s not for everyone but if you enjoy it, then let us know.

Into The Thick Of It

Welcome to our Podcast, enjoy the ins and out of our childhood TV,Film and Literature, we’ll cover vast subjects and spring off onto wild tangents. Hopefully you all enjoy. 

https://open.spotify.com/episode/30a2FkPmK5SuAbsIJilRse

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Ward Meachum - Secret Santa

Ward fidgeted in his spot as he watched the sleeping forms of his children; his finger erratically fiddled with the knot in his tie as he contemplated cancelling the occasion. Joy would be there, Danny would too so what exactly was the need for him to appear at a gathering of people he barely knew – especially when he could be sat at home watching old movies on silent with only the soft snores of two infants drifting through the room.

“Come on, we’ll be late” She whispered as her hand gripped the material of his jacket. She gave a few soft tugs drawing the elder Meachum along with her. “If you keep standing there, you’ll wake them and you know how Dan and Lizzie get when they see you”

Ward’s chuckle came out as more of a huff, his mind had begun to drudge up every memory he had of returning home from work. Of how his troublesome kids would sprint to him before he could close the door behind him. Lizzie, being the youngest, would practically pounce on him demanding some form of confectionery as Dan began to ramble on about the book he read or the project he was making at school. Ward loved his children.

“Who came up with this idea?” He huffed as he placed his hands in his pocket. He knew fully well that he was acting like a teenager but that didn’t stop him from pouting slightly as his wife pulled her jacket over her shoulders. She watched him with a tight-lipped smile. They both knew whose idea it was.

“It’ll only be for a while, just until the secret Santa gifts are out and you make a speech with Danny, then we’ll come home.” She smiled; a reluctant nod washed over him as he wandered closer to her, his eyes caught the sparkling maroon paper, a soft golden ribbon wrapped around its centre. He had no clue as to what the contents of the gift was and he was certain that the surprise when he checked his bank account would be greater than that of the recipients.

“So who did we get?” He grumbled as he reached for the gift. His wife’s fingers slapped his hand preventing him from looking. “Ok, how much did it cost me?”

“Not as much as what you got me” She winked. The man frowned slightly, he’d already purchased his wife’s present. He’d picked it with Lizzie a few months back as they wandered through the shopping centre. He couldn’t help the thought that passed through his mind as he wondered if his wife thought he was incapable of buying her a gift.

His thought had been followed closely by the memory of their anniversary. Rand had been swamped and like the dutiful businessman he was he’d been strapped to his desk. He hadn’t returned home the night of their anniversary and paid dearly for it. Quite literally. His wife had punished him by taking their kids on a shopping spree. He smirked.

“What did I get you?” He hummed, and she stepped closer to him. Her arms wrapped gingerly around his neck as his rested on her waist. In the moment the world had evaporated. He felt like he was floating in her arms; her perfume wrapping around his neck as he became intoxicated from her beauty.

“You’ll have to wait until we get home, now come on. We’ll be late and Joy won’t let us live it down.” She grinned before stepping away. He followed after her, a soft smile crossing his features as he grabbed the present from the counter.

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Ward Meachum - Just talk

A/N: i don’t where this went, I just had a thought and it ran into this some how sort of stream of consciousness. I don’t know, I’m a little tired and in the mood to write something for Ward.

Keys clattered unceremoniously onto the kitchen counter as the man began rummaging through his fridge. At times like these he craved the bitter flavour of beer. His day had never been so bad; if dealing with the knowledge his previously cancer-ridden deceased father was in fact alive and well was hard, adding the sudden entrance of his dead friend was harder. Said dead friend who just so happens to own fifty-one percent of thei-his company.

Ward cleared his throat as he ran his fingers over his dwindling groceries; his eyes slid shut at the dawning realisation. He was supposed to go shopping today, it was penned into his diary and he was more than eager to go somewhere that wasn’t the penthouse or Rand Enterprises. The tired Meachum pulled out his last bottle as he fought with the cap. Inevitably he’d reach for the bottle open in the drawer – but for now he was content with struggling with the metal.

He could hear the gentle thrum from the television in the other room and he found comfort in the noise, he was certain that as he wondered closer to the source he’d find them simultaneously reading a book and listening to some soap opera re-run. He was glad that even with everything going wrong, he was right about them.

“You’re home late” They smiled. There had been no malice in the words, no hidden meaning in the tone or violent outburst within the syllables. It was a simple statement that lead nowhere in particular. He hid his chuckle within a huff of air as he stepped closer. His free hand had begun to fidget with his tie and top button. He was keen to rid himself of the restricting item. Even more so recently. “There’s some pizza in the oven, I cheated and ordered take-out. You paid” They grinned and he found himself laughing along.

The way Ward Meachum flopped onto his sofa would’ve had his mother turning in her grave. He was raised better than to forget that he had a spine and was still holding a full bottle of beer; and yet, his mind refused to linger on that thought. Instead he opted to place his head on their shoulder and his feet on the coffee table in front of him.

“Bad day?” They quizzed. He nodded against their shoulder. He was almost certain that should he choose to speak; all the information he kept from them, for their own safety, would invade the space. Ward had thought long and hard about the consequences and they always outweighed the guilt that would consume him. “Want to talk about it?”

“No, I just want to just sit here and talk about your day until we fall asleep” He announced with a soft sigh. It was his favourite thing to do – he’d spent so much of his day talking to people that all he ever wanted to do was listen to someone else. He wanted to imagine their carefree day or how Jerry from three doors down had been having an affair with Denise from a different block. He wanted to hear about the trivial things that plagued their day rather than the messed up things that did his.

“We can do that” They stated. “I was waiting you to come do grocery shopping with me and I ran into Nikolae from my gym, his dad just had some heart attack or something, I said we’d go over for dinner one night, the guy was really torn up about it, I mean who wouldn’t be. Also Joy called earlier, she sounded really shaken up but wouldn’t say why.” Ward drifted slightly, lulled by the sound of their voice as they continued. He sunk further into his seat, his mind numbing the thoughts of Danny Rand and his family. “Oh and the doctor said that if you don’t turn up to the scans, he’s going to throw you out when the baby comes”

“I love you” Ward interrupted, “I don’t think I tell you enough, but I love you, and I promise you that when he or she comes I’m going to start working less hours. I’m going to spend as much time as I can with you both”

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Garcia Flynn (Timeless)

A/n: So this idiot absolutely fell in love with the series Timeless, and Garcia Flynn’s character is perhaps one of the most well portrayed and written anti-hero/good guy villain characters in my opinion, but I just wanted to leave this here as a reminder in the future of the show, just in case my memory goes back on the fritz. But if you watched the show, you’re probably now one of my favourite people, if you haven’t and you get bored, watch it. I think it’s worth it and I adore time travel and history. Potential spoilers for those who haven’t watched Timeless and decide to read

Clearing throats had been the first thing she had heard when she entered the bunker. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do, carrying the thin plastic bags down the ladder. Normally she would have called for Flynn; she’d listen with a grin as he spat his sarcastic drivel before inevitably reaching the short distance to take the weighted bags. Flynn had gone with them this time - against her protests. Garcia had jumped at the opportunity to help remove this last sleeper agent. 

“You’re all back. Perfect. I’m sorry I missed the return. I hope he’s not too mad. I got bored waiting for you all that I just went to grab some groceries. Flynn ate the last of the cereal. Like I swear that man chews through that stuff quicker than I can breath. I also thought as a celebration for the last sleeper deactivated, I would get his favourite. I mean, I don’t know how long it’ll be before they ship him back to jail and I won’t be able to see him” She rambled as she placed the bags on the counter and began to rummage through them. 

Another cleared throat and she paused. She hadn’t registered the room; she hadn’t sought out the smiles of a job well done like she normally would. She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed they were a body down. She hadn’t noticed that he hadn’t already sought her out in the empty crowd, like he normally would.  

They couldn’t meet her gaze. Neither of them looked up at her, they kept their eyes fixed on the concrete ahead of them; occasionally the silence would poke and prod at one of them and they’d shift on their seat. It was almost as though they were scared, like they used to be when the Lifeboat would go on a mission and things would go sour - usually because of Flynn. 

“How’d it go? Did you get to them before anything bad happen? Please tell me, Flynn hasn’t gained another scar. I’m not stitching him back together.” She hummed, her voice cracked in places and her breath had become more evident as she struggled to cut through the thickened silence. “Tell me Flynn didn’t-”

“He didn’t do anything this time” Lucy whispered; The woman kept still in her seat. Her fingers folded on top of each other as she clung to her journal. That damned book had been the reason they’d all met. It had been the reason Flynn had all but kidnapped her in the initial fight with Rittenhouse. 

“So why do you all look like the aftermath of a funeral?” She queried. 

“You might want to sit down for this. It’s going to be hard to hear” Agent Christopher announced. The homeland security agent delicately placed a brown envelope on the counter. Her index resting heavy on the corner as the younger woman slid into her chair. She felt like a teenager being told her parents were getting a divorce. “Open the folder when you’re ready” 

She didn’t want to and part of her mind was yelling at her. The fear that chased her, chained her and tortured her rose beneath the surface of her skin. She wanted Flynn. She wanted him to tell her it was ok, that the fear she felt looking at the manila folder would fade and the news wouldn’t be as bad as she initially thought. 

“I’d like Garcia to be here, can someone go get him. If this is bad news, I’ll deal with it better knowing he’s here” She declared. By now her hands were shaking; her heart rate had increased and she felt the panic clawing its way free, how long would it be until she was drowning under the sensation. 

“Just open the folder” Wyatt uttered. His tone had never sounded so cold and mechanical. When had he stopped being the Wyatt that would spit venom about Flynn, and teased her on her school girl crush. When had he fallen back into the soldier she met that first time in Mason Industries. 

She didn’t beg or plead as she pulled the file closer to her. Delicate fingers slid beneath the cover. She could see the words forming across the page, she could see the white border of a carefully printed photo. She’d spent so many days creating those photos. She knew the silver table. Her stomach sank as she shot up from the table. 

“Very funny” her voice wavered as she spoke. Bile rising within her throat as she watched the faces finally lift. She saw the pity creeping along the surface of their skin. She watched Lucy’s haunted eyes find hers as she silently pleaded for it not to be true. Flynn had promised her. He’d sworn on his own life. “Flynn!” She yelled, her legs carrying her around the room. She was calling out to him, even as her brain processed the information. She expected him to be grinning as he rounded a corner. The joke stopped being funny when she’d seen his bruises and blue body in that photo. “Very funny, Garcia. You can come out. I got you some of that beer you were craving the other day. I promise I won’t be mad.” She smirked. Even once the tears had started to fall. Even as she watched the others begin to dive back into their own guilt-ridden grief. 

“He’s gone” Wyatt remained calm as he began his explanation. “He took the lifeboat back to 2012, he killed Jessica in order to bring Rufus back. He sent the lifeboat back but he didn’t get on it. He sacrificed himself to save the world” 

“Stop” She cried out. Her knees were buckling beneath her weight as she looked at Rufus. Rufus had never died, there was no need to change time. Flynn hadn’t needed to sacrifice himself for something that never happened. She was certain of that - no she couldn’t be certain. She wouldn’t remember if that had happened. The timeline had changed. “You can bring him back! The journal. We can bring him back” She furiously wiped her tears. 

“You know we can’t do that” Denise stated. 

“Bring him back! He just wanted to see his family, he didn’t deserve to die. So...so BRING HIM BACK” She screamed; she was moments away from rushing at the lifeboat. Her mind had already planned the strategy. She’d grab Wyatt’s gun from his holster. She’d aim it at Rufus or Jiya. She’d force him to take her to 2012. Or she would die trying. 

“We think he did, shortly before-” Lucy’s words fell flat in the air. 

“We have to try something, anything” She broke. Her legs no longer supporting her body as she crumpled on the floor. She hadn’t registered  arms wrapping around her. She didn’t want to, she struggled against their grasp. “I love him, please. We have to-” 

“I’m so sorry” Wyatt whispered. 

The journal. That damned journal that had forced him into this mess. The leather bound book that he had memorised from start to finish, that he had insisted that she never read it. She understood why now. It was like he was protecting her, it was like he had…

“Did he know?” She questioned. “Did he know that it would end this way. That he’d been groomed to die from the day Lucy handed a broken man her journal. Did he know, last night, when he hugged me tighter than ever, that he would never hug me or anyone again. Did he know that his heart would break twice, or that mine would shatter. Did Garcia Flynn know that I loved him more than anything in the world?” 

“I don’t-” Wyatt stopped. His words would comfort no-one. He’d felt this pain before, he understood how harrowing the loss could be and how useless the words of comfort really were.

“Who decided that Rufus’ life was worth more than his. Who decided to play God? Because who ever did it, is no better than Rittenhouse.” She barked. 

[next-time-on-the-reverse]

I’m the asshole - Earth Two Harrison Wells

The two figures danced across the screen; shadows swallowing them both with every spin or haunting embrace. Cars would pass by as the couple continued their drunken shenanigans, both certain how the evening would end. Both certain that they wouldn’t care the next morning as the hangover clawed at their eyes and devoured their strength.

“Great” Came the harsh sigh. Neither occupant of the room had turned to acknowledge each other. They preferred to remain in the petty limbo as they skirted through the days.

Sharp eyes struggled to remain fixed on the silhouettes as they skipped down the alley ways, both grinning from ear to ear as the night descended upon them. They’d all happened upon this scene on multiple occasions. They’d grinned and bared the hisses and snarky comments that had been tossed into the air.

“I need the screens. All of them” He droned as he approached the desk. His body slumped into a chair beside her and she bit the inside of her cheek. He didn’t need them all, he was lying and she knew it. She knew his tells, they weren’t different from his counterpart on this earth. They may have been different men, with different motives but they wore the same expressions, danced to the same pipers tune. They were both untrustworthy.

“Sure thing boss, oh wait. You’re not him. Go find a different room” She howled. Her hands pulled at the mouse, delicately dragging the screen a few frames back. She’d watched this footage a dozen times over. She’d checked every angle, and she still couldn’t work it out.

“Don’t you have a home to go to, it being Christmas and all” Harry barked; he’d been all to happy to throw the same sarcasm at her. He never backed down from an argument, he hadn’t built his laboratory by rolling over every time some told him to. He wasn’t about to for her. “That’s right. You got them killed”

She growled, she knew her failures in life. She let them replay every night as her eyelids closed and her breathing became shallow. She suffered through the heartache with every snip and bite from her memories. Her wrongs outweighed her rights currently, it was why she offered to help the team. She wanted to clear crimson from her hands before she kicked the bucket. Even if it meant kicking the bucket cleared them.

“Wait, did you hear that?” She paused, her hand cupping her ear to emphasise her point. She watched as Harry turned to look at her. His eyes swallowing her confidence as she blinked. “Santa says you’re an asshole” It was a petty response; she knew it as Harry’s lip twitched and for a second she thought he found amusement in the phrase.

“I’m the asshole,” He nodded. He was going to protest as Cisco entered the room. He swallowed harshly as he pointed to her screen. “Sure, I’ll take it but I’m not the asshole who broke you’re heart. He is” Harry remarked. He pointed to his reflection. The footage pausing on the frame. His earth one counterpart had turned his face to a camera, a grin spread across his face. He wasn’t intoxicated. Not like she had been. Their Wells’ had used her, wined and dined her before throwing her under the bus.

The last remnants of her family had died a few days after the footage had been recorded. A freak accident during the Particle Accelerator switch on. They’d been crushed by falling debris, she hadn’t found out until the dust had settled and Barry Allen was hooked into the machines at the Lab. The Wells she had known did little to comfort her, and at first she had held it to the injuries he had sustained – his fake injuries. She’d been so stupid.

[next-time-on-the-reverse]

Eobard Thawne - Easy

A/N: Hey, it’s been a while. and this is not great but I’m ready to come back. I’m ready to step back into my shoes and slink into my comfortable seat. So enjoy, please and bare with me whilst I get used to things again. 

It would’ve been so easy; so incredibly facile to climb the steps and knock on the door. He’d imagined doing it so many times. The scene had been set in his mind as he’d panic. He would stand there, his fist ready to pound against the wood, and question his generous use of Harrison Wells’ aftershave. Thawne would question whether he should’ve purchased a bouquet of flowers or some cheap chocolate she wouldn’t even eat.

Thawne shook his head; for the fifth time in half an hour he shook his head. It was facetious. Just showing up with a well placed smirk and the same bewildered endearment etched across his features. How long had been?...for her. At what point had she given up on the notion of his coming back. Of him pretending like he wasn’t the villain they’d held him to be.

Their last meeting had been spent in abject horror. She’d staggered backwards as she discovered the truth, her mind was slow at first – he’d seen it in the way she gripped at her hair. Her eyes flicking between the two sides. Eobard hated the fear that had enraptured her. He hated the way that she would move further from his reach at every pleading step he made.

“Why?” He had called at the time, he’d shouted it until his throat had become sore and he could no longer muster the ability to speak through the anger. His neck had snapped to the young speedster, his holier than thou red get up. He despised it; even in a man so young.

This wasn’t a crusade, this had nothing to do with Barry Allen and his family. It had nothing to do with STAR Labs or the particle accelerator. This had been Eobard’s meagre attempt to have something more than his rage in his life. He had clung to this hope – to her, like a scared child in a storm. He would’ve given up his life to protect her.

Eobard ran his hand down his face, he felt the skin tugging beneath his fingertips. When he’d caught the stubble collecting on his chin he took note of how little he had done to keep himself presentable. He’d spent every waking moment stood on the pavement in the shadows. He’d failed on multiple occasions to muster up the courage to simply knock. He just wanted to explain.

His attention had been corralled by the approaching figure, on the opposite side of the street. Eobard’s head lifted, his eyes never moving from the man. The fire that burned through his veins, continued to ravage his system as he watched the man succeed where he had failed. He’d knocked.

When the door had opened and she stood with a soft adoring smile. His heart had frozen, the static electricity had built around him and he struggled to remain still at the interaction continued. Thawne watched as he touched her shoulder, as he pulled her closer to him.

The rage. The chilling rage that had spurred his limbs into action and his throat to grow hoarse as he sprinted through the streets. He’d got a good distance from the city before he had collapsed to his knees and released his screams. He’d promised her – though she had never heard it – to never harm her. Be it mentally or physically. He had promised her that.

[next-time-on-the-reverse]

You deserve an explanation

Whoa this is big for me to do. I’m making myself a little vulnerable, but even a little is a big thing for me. For those of you who follow me and don’t know, I suffer from Chronic Migraines. Every day of my life sucks basically because I’m in pain and for the most part I can deal with it and I’m fine with that, I understand that its something that can’t be prevented and cured but back in January this year, I had a fall. A pretty big one down my staircase in my home. 13 steps which might sound like a small number but I blacked out before it and smacked my head. As a result I ended up with a concussion which the doctors said is a really good thing, considering the first doctor I saw said it was a miracle I hadn’t died. I wanted to punch that doctor. I won’t lie. Since then I went back to see my neurologist and he suspects that I suffer from Post Concussion Syndrome. Which is kind of scary. Like I’ll have some days where I’ll wake up and I won’t know who my family is. I will literally look at my dad and go ‘who the hell are you?’ 

I’d like to say that my lack of content is down to me being a lazy shit  - pardon the french - but I need to be honest. I’m forgetting more as time goes on, in a few hours maybe a day I’ll forget this even exist until I look on this site. 

This isn’t a plea for pity, this is a explanation as to lack of content. I know that some people won’t care and I’m fine with that. I don’t care most days. I just thought I owed something to my followers. I’m trying to get my writing up to a standard I like and I’m comfortable with but for a while anything uploaded will probably have plot holes and things that make no sense. If it weren’t for the post-its on my computer desktop I wouldn’t remember the requests sent to me. I know I’m taking my sweet ass time, and I can only apologise. 

[next-time-on-the-reverse]

Anon Request: Meloni - Eobard Thawne

A/n: Potential spoilers ahead for those who haven’t watched the recent season. 

To feel the wind in his face once more had meant everything to Eobard; to feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins caused him to feel a high unlike any other and he was certain that most speedsters felt it too. He’d been cooped up for too long in that cell with the irritating dagger strapped to his chest. He could feel the electricity coursing through his system as he pumped his arms and legs faster. The speed force caressed his skin as he traversed through time, itself.

He attempted to forget the past thirty minutes, his meta-human DNA doing it’s best to heal his wounds and clear the bruises from his skin. Every so often as he raced through the streets, Nora West-Allen’s face would appear in his field of vision and he’d swerve on his toes. His heart would hammer against his ribs and his lungs would burn. To say the events weren’t killing him inside was an understatement to itself but the man had somewhere to be. Her death had been a necessary loss to get here. It didn’t mean that her smile, her laugh and her stubborn behaviour wouldn’t plague his dreams every night.

Thawne hadn’t had the pleasure of being home since he’d been locked in the cell. He hadn’t even had the grace of a picture or a visit from the mother of his daughter. Meloni Thawne, they’d settled on that name just before he’d been caught. He knew, of course, the second she had been born he could feel it. A gravitational pull in his chest – almost as though some soft small fingers were reaching out to him elsewhere in the world.

Barry Allen would no longer know the feeling, at least he wouldn’t with Nora. Not that version of her at least. The timelines had been altered for the better; the newest Cicada stopped and the dagger no longer in affect. All Eobard had to do was be his usual intelligent self and he could keep himself a free man.

“Meloni, come on. Dinner is ready” Came the familiar voice that sang in his ear every night in his cell. He longed to see the face that followed the voice, he practically yearned to see the smile in person once more.

“I’m just finishing some homework” A child’s voice joined the one-sided conversation. She sounded so much like her mother; today would be the first time Eobard would see his daughter. He’d missed years of her life, precious time that he could get back if he wanted to but that would once more be putting a strain on the timeline. What if he went back and Meloni was no longer the daughter he dreamed about but the son he never got the chance to have. What if he never met the love of his life and the prospect of finding another family would be gone. No, he wouldn’t chance it. “Mom, there’s someone outside.”

He hadn’t realised he was stood on the front porch until he saw his daughter wandered from the living room. She must have been well onto her way to becoming a teenager. Thawne questioned how much time he had honestly missed. Meloni’s mother emerged shortly after, she wore his favourite sweater, the same one she had worn the day of his imprisonment. The size had been baggy enough for her baby bump and the material comfy enough for her.

“Eobard” The woman whispered; her movements were almost imperceptibly quick. Her arms flung around his neck before he had time to react to his name. He wrapped his arms around her tight, he feared she’d disappear if he loosened them, or if he opened his eyes. “You got out, you did it.” She smiled. He pressed a kiss to her head as he released her momentarily.

“I had to, I had to get back to you and our daughter” He informed her. The woman moved slightly as she turned her head to look at the girl. He could see it in her eyes, the confusion and the gentle joy. She knew who he was, her mother had told her that much.

“What did it cost?” Meloni’s mother asked, her gaze soft as she ran her fingers through Eobard’s unkempt hair. He contemplated lying, his family didn’t know who Nora was. They had no reason to, the young West-Allen hadn’t known about Eobard’s family but the guilt was clawing at his chest.

“Everything but it was worth it. For my family” He smiled. “Hey Meloni, I’m your father” He ushered his daughter towards him. Her feet shuffling in cautious steps. The second the girl was within arms reach Eobard had her in his arms. The girl wrapping her smaller arms around her father. “You grew up, last time I saw you, you were still in your mom’s belly.”

[next-time-on-the-reverse]

Anon request: Injury - Eobard Thawne

At first, he didn’t want to speculate; his eyes would notice the smallest hint of a limp, or the briefest wince of pain as they waltzed by him. He wanted to believe they had just slept funny or they had slipped over whilst he’d been away. It hadn’t been until he noticed the wincing would last longer or their movements would be more cautious.

“How long?” Eobard had commented one evening as Malcolm and Damien had retired for the evening. He watched as his partner’s movements halted and a sharp inhale echoed through the room. They turned with a smile and a confused frown as Eobard prepared himself to elaborate. “How long are we going to skirt around the fact you’re in pain and hiding it?”

He wasn’t mad, in no means could he ever be angered by them. Not even if they were trying to frustrate him. He couldn’t do it. He watched as they huffed a laugh before hissing and crumpling forward. In a haste of speed Eobard stood before them, one hand delicately holding their chest, the other gripping their shoulder as he walked them to a chair.

“What gave me away?” They hissed. Eobard’s fingers gingerly lifted the side of their shirt, his mind going blank the second he saw the red seeping through, what had once been, a white bandage. A large thick purple bruise encased the skin around the wound. He wasted no time in sprinting for the necessary equipment to treat the injury.

“The limp at first, then the wincing.” He whispered, “What happened?” He added his question.

“The last fight with the legends. I guess one of them got me.” They confessed, they bit back a pained scream as Eobard drew back the bandage and ran an anti-septic soaked cloth across the wound. It hadn’t been too deep but from the initial look it had become infected or at least it was treading the fine line before infection.

“You should have told me. I could have helped sooner” Eobard smiled. His hand reaching for a fresh bandage. He’d get them actual help the tomorrow. His eyes glanced briefly to the watch strapped to his wrist. He was running low on time.

“I didn’t want you to worry” They laughed; he rolled his eyes. A sight that made them laugh a little more as he pulled their shirt back down and placed a hand on their cheek.

“I will always worry about you, but especially when you get hurt,” He informed them, his thumb gently dragging across their skin. “We’re getting that checked out first thing. I have to dash. Get some rest, if you don’t I’ll drag you to bed and make you rest” He added.

[next-time-on-the-reverse]

Hi hi, if you could write a lil something about being in a depressive funk, and HR coming to wait on you like a queen and give you snuggles and try to pull you out of it? (If you couldn’t tell ya girl is Sad Af) Please and thank you!

Absolutely, I can do this and hopefully the end result will at least ease the sad feeling, hopefully...at least. 

[next-time-on-the-reverse]

In that case would you write a fic where after getting away from Team Flash, Eowells immediately runs back to the reader? And they have a small daughter who was born like right before Eo went to metahuman prison? (I like imagining that Melani Thawne exists as Eo's daughter in the Arrowverse, and while Eobard didn't want to have to let Nora die cause he cared about her he was willing to do it to get back to his own actual child and of course the reader he loves. Thats my fantasy anyway!)

Yes!!! I love this, It would be an honour to write this piece.