#coldflashweather

[a-redharlequin]

Disclaimer: I own nor have made any of the images used in this board.

FlashWeather/ColdFlash AU

One of Barry’s worst nightmares has come true. Yet another nemesis, and one of the worst possible people, has learned of his secret identity; Mark Mardon.

However, Mark has no interest in selling the Flash down the river, or even using it to seek revenge. No, he’s found something much better to use this newfound information for; leverage, or, more specifically, extortion.

During his ‘research’ of Barry Allen and the Flash, he found out something that was worth more to him than retribution; that the Flash can time travel, that it was possible to save Clyde. That he could have his brother back.

Now if he can just convince Barry to go along with it, everything would be perfect.

But Barry has learned his lesson (again) and he’s not about to mess with the timeline (again) for anything less than a catastrophe (…again). No matter how guilty he felt about not being fast enough, good enough, to prevent Clyde’s death.

But Mark’s not taking no for an answer and is pulling out all the stops to get on Barry’s good side, to show that he can change, that he could keep Clyde on, well, not so much the straight and narrow, but at least obedient to the Rogue’s Rules. Something Lisa Snart had made a point of enforcing if anyone wanted to stay in her city.

(Even if Leonard Snart had mysteriously disappeared, it didn’t mean the city’s underworld no longer had a ruler. Honestly, the queen of gold was even more terrifying than the king of cold.)

Barry can’t go anywhere anymore without a certain weather meta dogging his steps, as it seems the rogue has made it his personal mission to make sure the reckless red speedster doesn’t get himself killed before he can save Mark’s brother.

In spite of themselves, their prolonged exposure to one another mixed with Barry’s stubbornness and Mark’s persistence, the two get closer and things between them become more electrically charged than their respective abilities that seem to be trying to draw them together like magnets. As if it weren’t enough that Mark insisted on sticking to him like a burr, but that their powers, when not pitted against one another, seem to feed off of one another like some sort of twisted and orgasmic form of symbiosis that Team Flash are all too eager to study.

But Mark can’t be sure if he really wants Barry, or if his feelings are just desperation mixed with addiction after being alone for so long. Barry feeling much the same, as well as unable to trust Mark’s intentions regarding ‘them’.

Barry’s reservations and denials are breaking down; now he just can’t decide if he’s refusing out of responsibility, or fear of Mark abandoning him once he has what he wants.

When Barry gives in and finds a way to save Clyde and preserve the past and future, things look complicated but promising.

Then Leonard Snart sweeps in like a blizzard, returned from the dead and now a meta on equal footing with the most powerful on top of his already legendary skill set. The only thing seemingly stopping him from an attempt at world domination is his newly chosen career as an (anti-)hero (trust Leonard Snart to figure out how to make super-heroism pay).

Safe to say, Cold is back, and he’s looking for more than a chance at working things out with Team Flash.

Mark had gotten his brother back and just settled into this strange new world order, and had finally been ready to work on proving his seriousness about their relationship to Barry, prove to him they could make things work. The last thing he needed was a rival who already had one foot in the door to Barry’s life and his heart; as if the cold bastard didn’t have enough going for him, he had to make a move for Flash too?!

Now Barry is more confused than ever and his heart is being torn in two when he’s faced with two paths to choose from with yet another crisis on the horizon. Will he go left, or will he go right?

But maybe the right path for them all is more straightforward than he thinks.

Central City collectively holds its breath to see how the Flash’s personal life choices will once again change the course of its future.

[bluewonderer]

Circus, Performer, I Didn't Mean To Turn You On/or/Aroused By His Voice: ColdFlashWeather? Or just ColdFlash if you can't think of anything for it!

In the morning, just at the outskirts of town there are circus tents reaching towards the hazy blue sky, sprawled where there had been empty fields the night before. The Circus is in town. There was no sound of a train during the night, no racket of a caravan. It wasn’t there, and then it was. 

The Circus of Dreams, the Night Circus, the Circus of the Moon… it has been called many things over the past century by its fans, and it would likely be given many more names in the years to come. But it was better known by its performers as The Circus. Because while it might not have been the first circus, it was real. 

Their Fire Eater, it was said, was actually made of fire. The fortune teller’s fortunes always came true. Their strong man could lift two cars, no tricks. The aerialists never had nets, and they never fell. It was said that they never swung from ropes and bars but actually flew. 

The carousel horses were said to neigh and move on their own.  

You could step through a mirror in their Hall of Mirrors and enter into another dimension. And, if you weren’t careful, your reflection could trade places with you, leaving you trapped in the mirror while the backwards version of yourself insinuated itself into your skin. 

There was a maze made out of gossamer and silk, and it was built up instead of out. You could climb the towering labyrinth for hours and never reach its end. And if you took a wrong step you could fall off of it, but a piece of glittering gossamer would break off and form wings at your back so you’d gently glide safely to your feet. 

Fans of The Circus said that it was more dream than circus, a timeless dream of thrills and delights and whimsy that crumpled when the iron gates clanked shut at the first break of dawn. Casual circus goers were a little disbelieving, and those who had never been to The Circus even more so. The whole thing was a little mysterious, sure, but that was their job–to give the illusion of mystery and magic to its well-paying patrons. 

Except Len knew that most of what the fans said about The Circus was true. More so than any of them could guess.

Len’s always been gifted with telling stories. Words and language were important. Stories were powerful. He was an Illusionist. Those who were less kind might call him a hypnotist. He supposes that wouldn’t be far from the truth–illusions are in the mind of the beholder, after all, and he can make just about any mind believe what he wants them to about his illusions. And the ancient glyphs he’s painstakingly learned, the ones he’s invented on his own, can make those illusions a reality. 

The Circus needs a new producer, and he joins. Not on a whim, but because his benefactor has told him to. He’s been used as a pawn by Darhk for some years now, pitted against other magicians as Darhk’s proxy in Challenge after Challenge. He’s won every Challenge so far, and Darhk says that this one will be his last and then he’ll finally be free of Darhk’s strings. 

He knows that his new opponent is the young ward of Thawne, a long-time rival of Darhk’s, but Len isn’t sure what the ward looks like and what his powers are. He does know that this is the ward’s first Challenge, and Len believes that this last Challenge will be quick and easy and then he’d finally be free. 

The night before his first day on the job, Len does reconnaissance on The Circus. Using his illusions and glyphs, he disguises himself to look like a plain, innocuous circus-goer and participates in all of the tents and attractions. The magic is palpable and he knows Thawne’s ward, Barry Allen, is a powerful magician indeed. The Wish Tree tent is a particularly elaborate and beautiful piece, as are The Cove of Voices and Pool of Tears tents. 

He is surprised by the presence of other magicians at The Circus as well, such as Mick the Fire Eater, who can produce real fire in the palm of his hand and sculpt it into statues of flame and shadow. He’s even more surprised when the magician in The Weather Tent, a tent that has four quadrants for each season, glares hatefully at him, like he recognizes Len past his disguise. It takes him a moment to recognize Mark Mardon, Darhk’s proxy before Len, who’d cut strings from Darhk just a few years ago. Len supposes that two of the same kind would recognize each other, though he thinks he could strengthen his illusions so that he could fool even Mark. 

(Later, he’ll come to find out that Mark was the last one to win a Challenge at The Circus. He’d been pitted against his own brother by Darhk, and had lost him in the end. Len will find out that Mark and Barry are friends, and that Mark knows that Thawne has bound Barry to another Challenge. Len will also find out, the hard way, that Mark has sworn to protect Barry at any cost, refusing to lose someone else he loves to a Challenge. But that’s later.) 

It’s the aerialist tent where he meets his fate. The music in the tent seems to come from the tendrils of wind curling in through spaces between the canvas flaps. And, up above his head, angels dance. 

He prides himself on his memory and attention to detail but later he wouldn’t be able to recall those kind of nuances. Only that the aerialists in their glittering white costumes looked as if they were dancing on air. One young man in particular stands out, gliding across the expanse of the tent, his body arched gracefully like he’s a crescent moon swinging through a night sky of constellations.  

The man is alluring, stirs a sense of desire and interest in Len that he’s a foreigner to. And then a voice rises with the symphony of wind that’s floating into the tent, wordless but beautiful, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It sends a shiver down his spine at the same time that it kindles the sudden yearning within him. And Len knows that it’s coming from the aerialist, knows because he can sense the magic of it, the power behind the intricate spell.  

The aerialist is Barry Allen, his new opponent in the Challenge. 

It’s clear that Barry has chosen The Circus as their field of competition. His raw power and burgeoning grasp of complex magic is clearly shown in some of the tents. So, as his debut showing as Barry’s Competitor, Len makes his own tent. 

He makes an Ice Garden tent. The garden itself is much larger than what it should be. In fact, whoever walks into the tent wouldn’t be able to see the tent walls at all, just an endless garden of ice. It has winding path made of ice cobblestones, willow trees with ice crystal branches that chime when the wind stirs, blades of ice grass that glitter like sunlight on snow. And flowers. All kinds of flowers. Roses and irises, tulips and orchids, marigolds and daffodils. All made of delicately sculpted ice. 

He thinks of Barry when he makes it, thinks of a moon sailing through the night heavens like it’s some sort of magic. Like it’s a dream. 

(Later, at the beginning of the end, just before it all changes, there will be a night when it’s just the two of them. Their rivalry will have already given way to something else. Len will still be debating on what he should do–forfeit the Challenge and continue his servitude with Darhk, or continue the Challenge at the risk of losing Barry. Barry will have already made up his choice, though he won’t tell Len what it is, won’t tell Len anything about it until it’s almost too late. On the night before all of that and more happens, they’ll be in the Ice Garden, just the two of them together. Len will admit that he made it thinking of Barry and Barry will reach down, curl his fingers into Len’s and tell him that it’s his favorite place in The Circus. But that’s later.)  

Only barely hit all three and even then still kind of sort of didn’t sorry!

[anendofeverything]

@youreturningscarletscarlet, @joker-quinn, you guys are into the whole serial killer/cannibal thing, so... The Rogues as cannibals, and sweet, nerdy Barry Allen is the lead CSI investigating the case. Barry figures out the location one of their hideouts and decides to investigate on his own. He sees Len and Mardon, who are about to kill Tony Woodward - the biggest bully of Barry's childhood. Woodward notices Barry first and subsequently Mardon and Len do. Barry looks at them and in a small voice asks them to kill Woodward. Seeing someone who hurt him so badly die makes Barry happy, but he ends up breaking down, 'cause seeing Woodward again just brings up bad memories. Mardon and Len (who are already together) comfort Barry and the three of them end up together. Eventually Barry quits being a CSI and decides to go Rogue, which is an advantage 'cause Barry knows how to go about not leaving, or leaving minuscule, evidence. Because he literally just drops off the grid, the CCPD think he's gone missing and think the Rogues kidnapped him. They end up figuring out what Barry did, that a Rogue hideout is Saints and Sinners - an old rundown bar just outside of town. There they find Mardon and Len and Barry... Having dinner? Are those candles?!?! (Coldflashweather are celebrating an anniversary or birthday.) Barry notices his old colleagues first and seeing one of them aiming a gun at Mardon, he speeds over and rips their heart out of their chest, 'cause oh? Didn't he ever mention it? Barry has powers. So Coldflashweather end up killing everyone there (Barry and Mardon with their powers, Len with his gun). Barry ends up yelling Mardon and Len that he loves them (for the first time), and - covered in blood - have steamy, twisted sex.

[masqueradeassane]

Prompt: Captain Cold is always cool, calm and collected, cool, calm and collec... cool, calm and coll....

It's Summer over here, where I live, this prompt is inspired by the fact that it's TOO FUCKING HOT. There is an actual heatwave, a weather heatwave, not gun wielding one. And Captain Cold has seriously lost his cool, he's stripped off all his clothes and is currently splayed out across Barry's wood floor. He's alternating between begging Barry to use his superspeed to create a cool wind, and trying to order Mark to make a light rain. Captain Cold...Leonard Snart, does not like hot weather, it leaves him tired and sweaty and sticky, without the usual fun activities that comes before he ends up tired...and sweaty...and sticky. Barry and Mark are kind of touched that he's willing to, essentially, let his guard down around them, even if it means they're basically, seeing him throw a massive tantrum. Leonard just wants to know if Mark can make a circle of hail around him, so he can ice down.

[joker-quinn]

My brain broke af but I have weird craving for coldflashweather

probably because of Scarlet

but anyway, I told her I’d write her something fluffy because she’s agreed to end one of her fics happily

Two things:

1. lemme just tell you, Barry’s brain = mine right now 2. story is AU. Powers are still a thing, but I’m dragging everyone into my Finals Hole. ‘Cept for a few characters, they can stay outside of college-y things.

I have Barry struggling with english instead because I’m p sure he wouldn’t have a problem with math finals

For @youreturningscarletscarlet

Okay...so...Fauuuuulkner.

Faulk. Ener. No, wait---Fffffaulkner.

Faulk. Ner.

Faulk?

Fuck. Yeah, that was it.

“Fuck,” Barry concludes enthusiastically, and by enthusiastically he obviously means slamming his head into his pillow and loudly slurring the word.

He excels in Chemistry and Physics, but give him three different critical lenses to analyze for Barn Burning and suddenly his brain is like mmmuh-huh? He’d do almost anything to have a physics final tomorrow morning instead of english. Then he’d be done studying by now, and he could invite Mark and Len over.

Yeeees. They lived near CCU, it’d work. Barry could run ‘em over if they didn’t feel like driving. It’d be cool. Heh---cool. Cold. Captain Cold.

Before Barry’s brain catches up to his fingers, he’s already got his phone to his ear and laughing hysterically over an accidental pun he made in his head.

Finals.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Barry opens his mouth to apologize for calling, he’s just so stressed out right now he quite literally can’t think straight, but all that comes out is another boisterous shout of, “Cool!” that dissolves into another fit of laughter.

“...Barry?”

Muffled voices. Barry keeps laughing, because, cool. Ha! How does Len not laugh every second of the day?

Wow, laughing is tiring. 

Everything is tiring, really. Everything---everything just happens too much.

It’s...it’s not cool.

Barry falls asleep giggling.

When he wakes, Barry hums at the kisses on his throat. Len---it’s definitely Len, he knows, don’t question him---hears him and joins Mark by pressing kisses to Barry’s lips. Slow, beautiful kisses.

Kisses are awesome. Even the word’s awesome. Kisses.

Kisssssssiiiies.

Barry starts giggling again.

Len pulls back with a huff. “Go back to sleep, Barry.”

Barry frowns as loudly as he can as Mark recedes too. “I have to study though,” he mumbles. The room temperature gets warmer. “You guys are the worst.”

“We’re not the ones who called Captain Cold and laughed about a stupid pun,” Mark says.

“I didn’ mean to!” Barry murmurs, “I was just goin’ over Fucker---”

“What?”

“Wait, no, um...Ffffaulkner? Faulkner.”

Len meets Mark’s eyes over Barry’s shoulder. Barry gives them both a feeble shove.

“Somethin’ about...Mmmmarxism, aaaand historicism, aaaand...” Barry squints, thinking. Wait, had there been two or three lenses to analyze? Maybe he was thinking of another work his professor reviewed. Maybe not? Maybe he should check the packet...

Two hands shoved him back onto his tiny bed before he could get an inch off the mattress.

“Stay,” says Len.

“Sleep,” says Mark.

“Fuck you,” says Barry.

But damn it, he falls asleep anyway.

I wish I could ship this, buuuuut...see, here’s the thing: I would, but my father’s name is Mark. Sooooo. Yeah. Awkward.

Hope you liked it anyway! :D