#authored by: rhuben

[raging-violets]

The Artful Dodger: "Trust Me, I'm a Doctor" | SneedxOC

*I'm using this gif because I can't find one of Sneed not reacting to Lady Belle stalking him down, haha*

-

Summary: Rainsford Sneed and Molly Atwood have no ill will towards each other. None. They were just doing their jobs: serving and...doctoring. 

Set around Episode 4 with the “anesthesia” and Episode 6 with the “Pepper Jelly” 

Authored by: Rhuben

Original Character: Molly Atwood (*also stuck between the name Effie Atwood*)

- 

“Don’t move.” Rainsford Sneed barely turned to take stock of tools at his disposal when the woman’s hands flew up towards her face. “I said don’t move!” She dropped her hands again, tightly gripping the arms of her chair, shifting and rocking from side to side. “You’re acting like a bloody fish yourself, ma’am. It’s very unbecoming.” 

“You try having a hook stuck in your eye and not moving.” Both eyes firmly clamped shut, Sneed knew she was still trying to gauge just how much damage had been done. The fishing hook shifted and bobbed with each shift of her eyes. At least the bleeding stopped. “I can now surely understand why a fish wiggles so.” 

“Yes, I can only imagine the pain you’re in ma’am,” Sneed replied, “but unless you wish to lose sight in your eye entirely, which, I do insist would be a shame, I must ask that you try to stay still.” 

Squinting open her good eye, Molly Atwood managed to give Sneed her best attempt at a glare. He noticed the green flecks in her hazel eyes with the light of the sun cast across her face. Yes, it would be a shame... Clearing his throat, he quickly stepped away from her, giving a wide berth to look over exactly what tools he needed. He had to be professional.  

“You’re not going to take me into the theater, then?” Molly asked from behind him. Sneed glanced at her over his shoulder. She seemed to be relaxed now If only for a moment. 

“This will only take a few moments,” he said, starting to roll up his shirt sleeves. “The drunkards wouldn’t take too kindly to such an easy foray, I’d imagine.” He sighed. “Don’t think they’d believe it to be a good show.” 

“Yes, I suppose we mustn’t deprive them of excellent entertainment.” 

He took her sarcasm in stride. It was that kind of entertainment that would help get him into the professor’s position. God willing. Still, there was a thrill to surgery. Some might call it barbaric. But he enjoyed it. And those that came out to watch his prowess as a surgeon, when he won the coin toss, enjoyed it, too. 

“You don’t need Hetty?” she asked. “Are you sure you can do this?” 

Pressing his lips together, Sneed grabbed the glass bottle sitting on his workstation, pointed the nozzle at her face, and squeezed his finger around the trigger. Twice.  

For both questions. 

A squeak of surprise came from Molly as she jerked in her seat, face now wet. “What on Earth was that?” 

Letting out a long sigh through his nose, Sneed set down the perfume bottle. A little harder than he needed to, he supposed. But if it worked... His gaze shifted through the window and towards the theater where Jack and Lady Belle were pacing back and forth across the room, deep in discussion. Belle’s head buried deep in the book, index finger gliding across the pages. If they said it worked... 

“It’ll help,” he said quietly. “Does it sting?” 

“Is it supposed to?” Molly asked in alarm, her grip tightening on the rests of the chair she was in. “If my face falls off, Rainsford Sneed...” 

His lips twitched upwards into a hint of a smile. One he quickly erased from his visage. Besides, it was another empty threat, he was sure. She had yet to see his demise after all this time. In fact, he had gotten quite used to these words from her. Only she normally had a sharp knife on her, not the stink of fish, as he usually found her in the middle of assisting preparing a meal for the Govenor and his fellowship. Or another task which Lady Jane Fox had asked of her. 

“So, how did this happen?” he asked. 

“I told you; I was fishing. I caught one. I got startled by a commotion. I jerked back on the line and...” She made an odd squishing sound with her mouth, lazily indicating her eye.  

“You can remove it, can’t you?” 

“Yes, I believe I can.” 

“Will I lose my eye?” 

“I hope not.” 

“Yeah, me too.” After all, how could she fulfill her dream of sailing the open seas without sight? “I do trust you.” 

Sneed gave a sharp shake of his head. How would he fulfill his dream of becoming Head Surgeon if he didn’t concentrate? Sailing the seas was no life for a lady, but just the same, he still had to do his job. He stretched his hands, and his fingers before picking up a scalpel, hovering it over her face. 

“I do mean it this time, don’t move,” he said. Molly’s chest hitched with the deep breath she took in. And held. Sneed carefully pressed the tip to his scalpel to her eyelid, pressing until it sank into her skin. Through it. He tossed it aside, where it landed with clatter on his table, using his other hand to carefully push the sharp end of the hook out through the newly created hole. Then he grasped his bolt cutters, snipped off the end of the hook, and pulled it back out of the original site of injury. “Got it.” 

“Fantastic.” 

Sneed sprayed more of the antiseptic and grabbed a piece of cloth to carefully dab at the remaining moisture and blood. 

“What are the fish for?” 

“To eat, of course.” 

“Molly.” 

“Rainsford.” She copied his tone. Equal mix frustration and amusement. Glad someone found this to be funny. 

“The Govenor and Lady Jane are not one to ask for fish for supper unless they are hosting,” Sneed explained starting to stitch up her eyelid. “And I do not believe catching them would be a task Lady Jane would bestow upon you.” He gave a sharp tug on the thread in his hand, smiling ruefully at the sharp gasp of pain from his patient. “You are selling them, I suppose. The fish. Why?” 

Molly was silent for a moment. “Everyone wishes for fortune, wouldn’t you say?” she asked. 

“I suppose so,” he agreed. Setting down the thread he leaned over her, grasping her chin in between his fingers, turning her head this way and that. “Now, slowly, open your eyes.” He watched as she did so, her hazel eyes fixing on him immediately despite the puffiness of one of her eyes. Silence filled the space as they looked at each other before Sneed found himself pushing himself away from her with swiftness. He cleared his throat, clasping his hands behind his back as he calmed himself. “What can you see?” 

She smiled.  “You.” 

- 

“Good evening,” Molly quickly stopped what she was doing to grasp the folds of her dress in a courtesy as Sneed stepped into the warm kitchen. “You’re back on your two feet, Rainsford!” 

“Glad that you can even see me at all,” Sneed responded with a tight nod of his head. He gazed around the bustling space, absentmindedly repeatedly smoothing his hand down the front of his shirt. “I suppose everything is healing well.” 

“Suppose,” Molly replied. She lifted her hand and gingerly pressed her eyelid. The swelling had gone down immensely. No lasting issues seem to be apparent other than a particularly rough feeling when he blinked. Even that was dissipating with time. “Suppose you are as well?” Her gaze flittered from his lips to his leg. “That is why you came in? To check on your patient?” 

“Yes, of course.” Sneed rapidly nodded his head before taking another step closer to her. He looked around once more and seeming to be appeased with the fact that no one else was paying attention to him, he stepped closer to her and lowered his voice. “It is not just that. I wished to know what was to be served tonight at supper?” 

Molly’s eyebrows came towards each other as she put down the knife she was about to press into the lump of bread dough before her. Then she turned towards him, eyes twinkling with recognition. She felt a smile come to her face as he watched Sneed shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

Rainsford Sneed. Recognized surgeon. Nervous. 

Interesting. 

“Nothing with pepper, I assure you,” she replied. She blinked rapidly, startled at the loud “Sssshh” he hissed in her face, looking around. Rolling her eyes, Molly lowered her voice. “There is no pepper in tonight’s meal. Promise.” She then widened her eyes innocently. “Should I ask that it no longer be served to you?” She placed a hand upon her hip. “I’ll make sure Fanny is aware.” She couldn’t stop the frostiness that suddenly coated her words when she added, “Or is it Lady Belle you’d wish to know this about you?” 

He seemed to stiffen; his eyes boring into her. Yes, she was aware of Lady Fanny’s infatuation. And the proposal. And the reason for the duel leading to Sneed’s injured leg. And the Pepper Jelly. Fanny was all atwitter about the whole thing; finding no listening ear in her own sister. Not that Molly was mad. It was actually quite funny. In an annoying kind of way. 

“No, I don’t suppose...they’d need...to know,” he finished quietly. 

“Suppose not.” 

“Though, should you ever want to be tempted again to try...” Molly reached for the small clay bowl in front of her. “I suggest you protect yourself, eh.” 

She dipped her fingers into what looked like some sort of clear jam and spread it across her fingers. Then, she took his chin with one hand, and started to slowly smear the cool jam over his lips. “To save you from another stay in bed, of course.” 

Upon releasing him, Sneed pressed his now shiny lips together. He silently blinked in response to Molly’s smile of mirth as she turned back to preparing that night’s meal. It took a moment for her to realize he was still standing there, just watching her. Still blinking. She jumped slightly at the revelation before relaxing into a playful smile. 

“What?” she asked him over her shoulder. He had his hands up to his lips. “You don’t trust me, Dr Sneed?” 

“What is this?” he finally asked, venturing a swipe of his tongue over his lips. 

“Animal fat.” One side of Molly’s mouth briefly lifted at the alarmed look on Sneed’s face. “You eat the rest of the animal, don’t you?” She had seen it numerous times when he was extended the invitation to sit with the Governor. “We put it on our hands sometimes. Helps from getting any of the spices under our nails. Hurts like the devil, sometimes, doesn’t it?” 

“Our guest will be arriving soon. Girls, I need you out front.” Lady Jane’s voice was carried from the front of the estate. 

“Well, alright, yes, thank you,” Sneed said with a quick nod of his head. “For the tip.” 

“You’re welcome, Dr. Sneed.” Molly cleared her throat. She rolled her shoulders back, tipping her chin upwards. She did not wish for Lady Jane to find her falling behind in her work. Not on a day so important to Fanny. Only a simple glance across the table as she helped serve dinner would give away her proclivity of “Oh, Dr. Sneed?” 

“Yes?” Sneed asked, spinning on the ball of his foot in the doorway. 

“Glad to see you, too.” 

Sneed bent forward in a short, quick bow, his lips lifting into a prideful smile. He mimed a quick tipping of his hat before leaving the kitchen. Laughing quietly through her nose, Molly shook her head, before getting back to the task at hand. 

-

Tag List: @ocappreciationtag @foxesandmagic @witchofinterest @ochub @darknightfrombeyond. If anyone else wishes to be added to the tag list for The Artful Dodger and my OC (who I still can't decide on the name of), let me know!

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[arrthurpendragon]

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[raging-violets]

The Artful Dodger: We Are Nothing More | SneedxOC

Summary: Rainsford and Molly come to terms with how complicated their positions in the colony are. 

Set during episode 5, “The Duel.”

Authored by: Rhuben

Original Character: Molly Atwood

-

Molly turned away from watching the men as they prepared the Duchess of Portland to set sail at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. Spotting Belle’s quick, yet purposeful steps through the town, she found herself relaxing a little, but still gathered the folds of her dress and quickly moved away from the area.

Her friend, she knew, would understand her want to just want to be around the ships in the harbor. The men? Captain Gaines? She’d be deemed a distraction. Give the (wrong) impression that she had a desire to find a suitor of the men. Or be se seen as someone to keep an eye on, lest she steal something from the ships. Food? A weapon? Neither out of the ordinary for her and the reason why she was put under the Governor and Lady Jane’s eye in the first place – let alone why she was in Port Victory.

“Lady Belle,” she greeted, falling into step with her, “I trust you enjoyed the soup?”

“Oh, I’m sure it was lovely, Molly, but I did not have any, I must apologize,” Belle said, distractedly. Her eyebrows pinched towards each other, the shadow from the brim of her hat emphasizing her disgruntled expression. She sniffed. “Mr. Dawkins, though, seemed to have enjoyed it.”

“Oh!” Molly’s eyebrows lifted. Her lips twitched upwards in the corners. She slowed her pace and Belle, sighing through her nose, matched her. “And when would Mr. Dawkins have had a chance to taste the soup?” Belle didn’t answer. “Must’ve been all the nutmeg.”

“I’m sorry?” Belle asked, blinking repeatedly. She swallowed, the crease between her eyebrows lessening slightly. “Nutmeg? How-how do you mean?”

“Lady Fanny has counted you know,” Molly said, looking into Belle’s eyes, “your turns. Eight this past month I believe she’s said.”

Belle’s eyes flashed. A hardness came to her voice as she said, “That is of no business of yours.”

“Yes, Lady Belle, I apologize.” Molly bowed her head slightly, clasping her hands together in front of her. “I have just noticed that upon these turns you don’t eat much. I have begun to wonder should the taste be better you’d be more inclined. And it has helped ease any ailment.” A small smile came to her face. “Besides, you do need to keep up your strength.”

“Meaning?”

“Well, I suppose, should Sneed wish to teach you to shoot,” Molly started rocking back and forth lightly on her heels, “you should be able to hold a gun properly.”

Belled opened and closed her mouth. She blinked repeatedly. Molly smiled wider. Belle took in a deep breath through her nose. Pressed her lips together. Cleared her throat. Then the two were laughing. Not too loud; a lady should not be disruptive, of course.

“Fanny told you?” she asked, her nose wrinkling as her last laugh disappeared.

“Somewhere between complaining about you not appreciating her worry, and not being receptive to any man’s charm so she can be married, not appreciating her art, and wondering where she was even to get a guillotine, Sneed’s request to teach you to shoot did come up, yes,” Molly explained. “She watched you from the window for a bit. Before she went off to paint some more. Her art is quite lovely, you know.”

“Her trees could use some work, I’d say,” Belle said flatly. “Anyway, I am in search of Captain Gaines. Have you seen him?”

“I have not. Why do you wish to speak to him? Seems urgent.”

“Well, I thought he’d like to know about an illegal duel being held tomorrow at dawn,” Belle replied, starting her quick pace again. “Rainsford does not wish to put a stop to it, so I am looking for another way.”

“A duel?” Molly repeated, hurrying in Belle’s wake. “Here? That’s barbaric.”

“Not according to Fanny,” Belle said with an odd laugh, “she seems to believe the duel is over her.  Wishes to believe she’ll get a fine suitor should Rainsford win. It’s exciting for her.” She clicked her tongue and gave a sharp shake of her head. “And knowing Dawkins’ proclivity for reckless and utterly stupid behavior, I have no doubt—"

“Dawkins,” Molly repeated. “Jack Dawkins? He’s dueling Jack Dawkins?”

“The very same.”

“Is Rainsford out of his mind?”

“Well, of course, he’d have to have one to lose it.”

“Why would he wish to duel Jack?”

Belle didn’t answer right away. Her teeth worked her lower lip. “I do not wish to understand the male brain,” she finally said. “He’s absurd; he had me smelling nutmeg.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind.”

“Well, as a future surgeon, I don’t deem that wise,” Molly commented, “not wishing to understand the male brain, I mean.” She grabbed Belle’s elbow, pulling her to a stop. “You’ve come to care for him,” Molly posed the question more as fact, “Jack Dawkins, I mean?”

Belle opened and closed her mouth. “The professor will be passing on the role of Head Surgeon in two months’ time,” she said, wetting her lips with a quick swipe of her tongue. “More and more are arriving at Port Victory; we need as many surgeons as we can possibly have.”

“And with Dawkins around, someone is giving you the chance to be another one,” Molly said with a nod.

“Yes, well, that is one bright spot, I suppose,” Belle said with a curt nod. Molly lifted an eyebrow, watching her. Belle shifted her weight from one foot to the other before crossing her arms over her chest. A sparkle came to her eyes, the corners of her lips curling upwards into a hint of a smile. “Amongst others.” Then it cleared and she tilted her chin upwards. “Now, I must find Captain Gaines.”

“Yes, m’lady, I will not delay you any further.”

-

“Rainsford!”

Sneed looked wildly over his shoulder at the sudden shout before then focusing on the row of bottles that were knocked over at his sudden reaction. He pressed his lips together, exhaling sharply through his nose as the glass shattered as it hit the stand.

“Yes?” he asked, watching Molly stride towards him. His eyebrows came towards each other as he took in the look on her face.

A part of him suddenly he felt the need to get out of the area as fast as possible.  First Belle and how Molly. He had never seen such a force within a woman. It was startling in a way; such a display of emotion he was not used to and equally piqued his interest.

“You must call off this duel,” Molly commanded.

“I will do no such thing,” Sneed replied, moving to set up more bottles.

“Why is there need for a duel?” Molly asked.

“Jack Dawkins is not fit for Port Victory,” Sneed replied setting up another row of targets. He could feel her eyes boring into his back. “Yet he acts like he’s entitled to the Head Surgeon position. Something I have worked so hard for!”

“Dr. Dawkins has worked had at his job, too.”

“And has ignored every advice and command as he’ s done it,” Sneed snapped, slamming the last bottle down onto the stand. He whirled around to face her, gritting his teeth. “I told him that the surgery on the navigator was for naught, yet he did it anyway.”

“And he saved his eyes.”

“It was too risky! The man should have just accepted nothing could have been done.”

“You believed you couldn’t do anything for that navigator—”

“The only thing I could do for him was to suggest that he get used to a cane.”

“Yet you chose to help me. Or have you forgotten you have successfully removed a hook from my own eye?”

“You were not in danger of losing your sight.” Sneed crossed his arms over his chest before taking a few steps closer to her. He lowered his voice. “You are not about to set sail, Molly. There is a difference” he insisted when she scoffed. “None of those men on that ship would have been safe with him attempting to navigate. They were better off without him.”

“Yes, I’m sure the man with the engorged member would have done much better,” Molly replied, her upper lip curling slightly. “I’m sure he would’ve been pointing in the right direction at some point, no need for a compass.”

“There was naught I could do.”

“You were just too scared to do it.”

“Excuse me, m’lady.” Sneed stepped closer to Molly, feeling his jaw tighten. “Governor Fox wants them sailing as soon as possible. I had to look at man after man to determine if he was seaworthy. But I had the final decision, and based on my experience, this was not something that could be done.” He pressed his lips together, finding them shaking. “Besides, Dr. Dawkins inferred the smell in town is me.”

Molly’s nose wrinkled. “The whole hospital has started to smell,” she commented, waving a hand in front of her nose as if she could smell it now. Perhaps she could; many in the colony had been speaking of it. “It would be hard to place the blame on anyone.”

“Still,” Sneed sniffed, “Jack Dawkins does not have any respect for authority. He questions the Professor, he questions me…it is not right. It is not right for him to lay up all night with the governor’s daughter. Lady Belle has been spending too much time with someone of his class.”

Molly’s eyebrows rose sharply. “The same class as me, you mean,” she asked.

“Yes, that is what I mean,” he replied. He moved to his gun case and carefully removed his revolver from its position. Turning around to face the bottles, he fired three quick shots. He smiled as each bottle exploded.

“So, Dr. Dawkins and I are not meant to wish to do something more?” Molly asked from behind him. “Or worse yet, you do not believe it to be possible. You like every other small-minded twit here.”

“You will not speak to me this way, Molly.” She would not be the next person to do so. Lady Belle. Jack. Now her? He deserved respect and he would get it.

“Yet, you have no issue should Lady Belle do the same.”

“Lady Belle needs to understand that it would be better for her to marry,” Sneed said, “and not to worry herself with surgical knowledge. It will be better for her.” He punctuated his sentence with another successful shot of his gun.

“And that’s the difference between us? The only difference?”

Sneed let out a sigh of frustration. He set his gun down and placed his hands on his hips as he faced her. “I don’t understand.”

“Yes, Lady Belle and I are not in the same class, but we are friends.”

“Well, you’ve been tending to herself and Lady Fanny for a while now, surely you’re bound to grow a rapport.” Which would make it easier should Lady Belle and himself marry. It would be one less housekeeper to understand how the homestead was to be tended to.

“We are friends because we both dream for more with our lives. We speak of it quite often.”

“Out of turn.” Sneed pointed a wagging finger at her. “That is not something that should be discussed. You help tend to her home.” His chest swelled as he took in a breath of air. “We shouldn’t be discussing it, now. Not like this.”

“Yes, but how are dreams supposed to be achieved if no one hears us? You dream of becoming the next Head Surgeon; how would you come across the role have you not grown a rapport with Professor McGregor? With Governor Fox?”

“Our families have known each other for years,” Sneed replied, “I have studied at Oxford. Of course they would think of me.”

Molly’s lips twitched. “Well,” she sniffed, “you could at least find someone who actually likes the smell of nutmeg.”

Sneed’s anger lessened slightly as he locked his brown eyes with her hazel ones. She didn’t say anything else, just gave him a blazoned look. He cleared his throat. Brushed his hand over his mustache. “You wish to leave these lands – it-it wouldn’t be right,” he finally said. 

“To whom?” Molly asked with a scoff. “To the colony? To the Governor and Lady Jane?” Arms crossed over her chest; she stepped over to him. “Because surely, someone of my class couldn’t feel for anyone in yours?” Her eyes bored into his, saying a silent, “you’ve seen how Jack and Lady Belle have looked at each other.” 

Yes, he had seen it. And he had seen how she looked at him. How she looked so relaxed leaned up against him. Andhe couldn’t understand it. And he didn’t want to understand it. It was something else Jack Dawkins seemed to get without any work. Any effort. And it didn’t make sense to him how Dawkins always seemed to get what he wanted. Unfortunately, they both seemed to want the same thing at the moment. Though he wasn’t sure which was more prevalent; the Head Surgeon’s position or Lady Belle.

“I am the Governor’s house servant now, that is true.” Molly swallowed thickly, seeming to hesitate before saying, “Yes, I was a convict before that. We’ve both seen in Dr. Dawkins how that doesn’t matter. That it shouldn’t matter.”

“But it does,” Sneed said quietly. “You have had those who’ve asked to marry you.” 

“I have no desire to pick up their handkerchiefs and you know it, “Molly said through gritted teeth. She then said just as quietly as him, “They are not whom I wish to marry.” She reached into his gun case and retrieved his revolver. Sneed watched as she lined up the shot and pulled the trigger, successfully shattering the bottle she was aimed at.

“…Nice shot.”

“Thank you.” She set the gun down and looked him in the eye once more. “You have dirt in your hair, by the way.” She reached out a hand and brushed at his hair. Sneed briefly saw a plume of brown waft in the air before the smell of nutmeg reached his nose. “Call off the duel. You wish to save people for a living, I don’t believe you could willingly take someone’s life.”

Sneed didn’t answer, he just picked up his gun one more time, prompting Molly to turn on her heels and walk away. Sneed aimed at the final bottle and pulled the trigger. A hint of a pleased smile came to his face as he watched the final bottle explode in front of him.

-

Tag List: @ocappreciationtag @foxesandmagic @witchofinterest @ochub @darknightfrombeyond. If anyone else wishes to be added to the tag list for The Artful Dodger and my OC, let me know!

#tw guns #the artful dodger #the artful dodger oc #rainsford sneed #belle fox #sneed x oc #fd: the artful dodger #authored by: rhuben #by: rhuben

[raging-violets]

Caged Nightingale | Chronicles of Narnia | Chapter 02 - Read on FFN or AO3

Authored by: Rhuben

Rated: T

FULL SUMMARY: [REWRITE] Readjusting to his “old life”, Edmund finds himself drawn back into a Narnia he doesn’t recognize. A Narnia filled with ruin and loss. Much like himself. Feeling like he betrayed his beloved lands for a second time, and haunted by memories of the White Witch, Edmund will do everything he can to extinguish his lingering doubts of his royal title.

Witnessing the effects of war on her father, Issi has dreamt of a life of healing. Following the honeyed voice only she hears - the spirit that leads her straight into becoming a Telmarine prisoner of war – Issi promises to nurture Narnia (whatever that was) the best way she knew how, but found herself rebuilding a King desperate for some sanctuary, all the while fighting off the growing urge to do him and his family harm.

-

Excerpt:

Peter had been the first to stop talking about it. He had more important things to worry about, as he had reminded them. Being in touch with their mom. Learning what he could from the professor. If they were to get back to Narnia, he would say, then it would happen when it happened. Still, Edmund could see his frustration in the way he rolled back his shoulders when he was spoken to by teachers, held deep in his eyes when people tried to withhold information from him. Could hear it in the way he wondered why Edmund and Lucy couldn't just "do what they were told" without complaining. Susan had soon followed Peter's example. She was more patient with Edmund and Lucy, and how often she found them in the room with the wardrobe. And how often she would usher them out. She grew out of the more childish games Lucy wanted to play. Quickly, yet gently, stopped discussions on what they "would be doing in Narnia right now" as they had already lived a full live there, and didn't need to dwell on it anymore. After a while, Lucy knew not to bring it up. Yet, Edmund could still find her on occasion, just sitting in the room with the wardrobe, looking up at the big heavy door. Watching. Waiting. Hoping. Would smile a secret smile as a memory came to her. How patient she was with everyone that deemed her to be a little girl with her head up in the clouds. She had never lost faith. It was almost annoying. They were told they wouldn't be away home for long. They were told they would be able to return to Narnia. He had been told he could be made a king, and all he had to do was bring his brother and sisters to Jadis. It had been a year.

Shout out to @purpleyearning​ for the fic cover!

Tag List: @foxesandmagic @witchofinterest @arrthurpendragon @andromedalestrange​ @darknightfrombeyond​ @ocappreciationtag​

#narnia fanfiction #chronicles of narnia #fd: narnia #oc: issi winters #fc: niamh walsh #fic: caged nightingale #edmund x oc #authored by: rhuben #by: rhuben #chapter update #saw the news of greta gerwig to direct #so this happened

[raging-violets]

Caged Nightingale | Chronicles of Narnia | Chapter 03

Read on FFN or AO3

Authored By: Rhuben

Rated: T

FULL SUMMARY: Readjusting to his “old life”, Edmund finds himself drawn back into a Narnia he doesn’t recognize. A Narnia filled with ruin and loss. Much like himself. Feeling like he betrayed his beloved lands for a second time, and haunted by memories of the White Witch, Edmund will do everything he can to extinguish his lingering doubts of his royal title.

Witnessing the effects of war on her father, Issi has dreamt of a life of healing. Following the honeyed voice only she hears - the spirit that leads her straight into becoming a Telmarine prisoner of war – Issi promises to nurture Narnia (whatever that was) the best way she knew how, but found herself rebuilding a King desperate for some sanctuary, all the while fighting off the growing urge to do him and his family harm.

-

Excerpt:

“It’s better he doesn’t know.” Peter’s words caught in his throat as he tried to justify himself before managing to get out, “We shouldn’t even have a radio, Professor.”

“Nor should we have sugar with which Ivy, Margaret, and Betty have made us delicious meals; nor any coffee that you’ve grown to wanting to taste, nor any cheese.” Professor Kirke let out a soft laugh, ending with an even softer sigh. “But we do have them, and it’s ok that we do. You are safe here, Peter.”

“We were told that London was safe, too,” Peter replied in a solemn tone. “And then they told us we had to evacuate - some of my friends just disappeared - and then nothing happened, and then dad left, and then...”

“And then you found yourselves here. Yes, yes, I can understand how unsettling that all is.”

“So why unsettle him even more? Or Susan and Lucy?”

“You know your father never wanted any of this to happen, I’m sure. Nor your mother. They’re doing what’s best—"

“And I’m doing what’s best for them.”

Professor Kirke said nothing in response. Peter had clearly made his final decision on the matter. Edmund was just shocked to hear Peter interrupt the professor, let alone the tone of voice in which his brother had used to do so. For if there was one thing about Narnia that Edmund remembered, it was that High King Peter never spoke to anyone like that.

Shout out to @purpleyearning for the fic cover!

Tag List: @foxesandmagic @witchofinterest @arrthurpendragon @andromedalestrange ​ @darknightfrombeyond ​ @ocappreciationtag - If anyone else wants to be added, just let me know :)​

#narnia fanfiction #chronicles of narnia #fd: narnia #oc: issi winters #fic: caged nightingale #edmund x oc #authored by: rhuben #by: rhuben #chapter update

[raging-violets]

Can't have you injuring yourself, now can we?" + issi!

OTP Prompts: Protectiveness | Ask Box

Narnia: Prompt | Excuses, Excuses | Edmund x Issi

Issi Winters looked up from the clotting cuts over bruised and swollen knuckles to the brown eyes of Edmund Pevensie. This wasn’t an unusual sight for her; injuries as small as a scratch from a thorn, as serious as crushed bones, and anything in between could show up at her door. These particular brown eyes, though. That was few and far between.  

Narnians, the people of Archeland and Calormen, and many different creatures often used Beruna as a resting place between the territories. Since Lord Miraz’s defeat, Beruna had been growing steadily, flourishing under the Telmarines that decided to stay and start a new life for themselves, rebuilding the city, and looking to start schools and businesses.  

After the Telmarines were driven out of the area, Issi had decided to stay in Beruna and open an apothecary; her way of following her dream of becoming a doctor.  

“If I didn’t know you any better, Edmund,” she said, grasping his chin to tilt his head back and forth, side to side, as she looked over his split lip, puffy right cheekbone, and gritty bits of dirt and blood that had trickled out of his hairline and down his forehead. Issi gave the king a smile of amusement as she released his face. “I’d reckon you were doing this on purpose.”  

Edmund’s eyebrows came towards each other. “What do you mean?” he asked.  

“I mean,” Issi said, “Lu has her healing cordial—"  

“All the way back at Cair Paravel. And Peter told her not to use it,” Edmund said, with a hint of annoyance to his voice, “unless absolutely necessary.” The same kind of annoyance, she assumed, appeared in her voice whenever her mother reminded her, unnecessarily, how getting their rations for the day and getting to work on time was the best place for her. Issi twisted her mouth to the side, watching as Edmund subconsciously shifted on his stool. He then lifted his hand, pressing it into his lower left side.   

She had heard the stories of the Pevensies’ first journey in Narnia. Of the severe injury he had sustained at the hands of Jadis. It seemed, despite the healing cordial’s work, he could still feel pain in the location. Or maybe he was just remembering what it had felt like; a lifetime ago in one phase of his life, yet still in recent memory.  

“Talks between the Narnians and Calormen broke down, that’s all,” he explained. He sighed through his nose when he noticed her appraising look. “I’m ok.” That’s what he always said. Edmund had never been known to make much of a fuss over himself.  

“You’re a right, bloody liar, Edmund Pevensie,” Issi said with a laugh. “You’re exactly like some of the little ones here that always come ‘round the time school starts, talking about feeling crummy, and their head aches them so.”  

“Not everybody likes school,” he said with a wry smile.  

“And Cair Paravel is out by the coast, past Glasswater,” Issi said, finishing her initial thought. She gathered the front folds of her dress in her hands. Lifting the hem out of the dirt, she brushed past Edmund to reach her wall of vials. She quickly scanned over the array in front of her and grabbed a few off the shelf. Arms laden with a pestle, a bowl, a cup of water she had retrieved from a basin, she carried them back over to her stool. “Yet you came inland to Beruna.” She looked him over again. “I suppose your head does ache.”  

“Just a little,” he admitted. “And we needed to stock up on supplies.” 

He suddenly looked tired. Still a formal air was still evident in his tone, and his eyes were alert. It was a stark contrast to the king that made his way through town moments before. So sure of himself, shoulders back, eyes alight with the confidence he wanted to spread to those living in Beruna, yet reflecting what he had experienced. He had quickly grown into his role of the king of Narnia over the years.  

In his early twenties, he was still a young man, both in his energy and his temperament at times, but he was also one that had a serious side to him. He could lead a strategy meeting in the wake of Peter’s absence, yet he was also one who was known for what little amount of words he’d say. Outside of attempts of formal talks between countries, such as this most recent trip, Edmund had grown to be known as the “strong, silent type.”  

He, much like his brother and sisters, had to grow up really quickly. With both the war he and his brothers and sister had been sent away from, and the responsibility of running a country on their own. One situation where he was often told he wasn’t old enough to join adult conversations, the other where he held those conversations and had to think carefully as his words dictated the outcome for others. 

It was a nice change to witness. Even if from afar. 

“And a break. It was easier going past the River Rush instead of travelling through all the mountains outside of Archenland. One of the centaurs went ahead to give Peter, Susan, and Lu word of our delay; a few came with us as our guard. And Lucy would have my head if I didn’t stop to see you.”  

Issi paused slightly in removing the stopper from her vials. She kept her gaze on the task at hand. The Kings and Queens of Narnia were good to their people. They wanted to know how best to help those they served so they travelled to surrounding communities from time to time. Excitement would sweep through the town whenever word of a visit from the Kings and Queens was announced. It was always good to see her friends, they did make it a point to see her when they visited. Still, she couldn’t stop her heart from (annoyingly) fluttering at his words. And what those words could have really meant.  

“You can come see me anytime you want, Ed, you don’t have to get hurt to do it.”  

She dumped the contents into the bowl before she grabbed her pestle and started crushing the contents, purposefully avoiding his eyes. What a bold statement to make to someone of his high stature. Of everyone in Narnia and the surrounding lands he could look towards, and of all the maidens who have let their interest known to the kings’ and queens’ court, why he would choose a merchant such as herself was beyond her. She found herself in a right state the moment the fact that she actually cared about something like that had hit her. 

Edmund made a sound of impatience in the back of his throat. 

“I’m sorry, was it or was it not you, whom Peter has said got into fights back home a time or two? Or a few?” Issi asked, lifting her head to give Edmund a challenging look. “Hmm?” 

“What else have you heard from Peter?” Edmund asked, meeting her challenging look with his dark eyes. Darker now, due to something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Or she could but didn’t want to say what it was out loud. 

“Oh, nothing, just that Lucy is his favorite sister,” Issi said. 

Edmund snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s not surprising.” 

“Relax, Ed, I’m sure you’re his favorite brother.” 

That time he laughed through his nose, a weak smile coming to his face. 

“I do have a gift for Lu,” Issi mused, setting down the pestle and bowl to brush her hands over the apron draped over the front of her dress. “Been meaning to bring it ‘round your way. So, it is a good thing you popped by. Otherwise, I might’ve missed you.” 

“Now whose saying they’re doing things on purpose?” Edmund asked. “You could always just give me whatever it is for Lucy.” 

“I don’t need Her Highness to come all the way out here to shout at me for not visiting,” Issi said with an incredulous laugh. Lucy may be the youngest of the kings and queens, but she was plucky. Get her mad enough and it looked like even her auburn hair was alight with the fire she held inside of her. “And you know she would.” 

Edmund hummed in agreement. Then, he lifted his hand and waved it lazily to indicate himself. “So, how bad does it look?” 

“I know you’re already itching to get back, maybe even to spar with Peter, but you have to take the time to rest,” Issi warned. “Or else you might make that split even worse than it is right now.” She reached up her hand to brush his dark locs up and away from his forehead. Edmund briefly closed his eyes at the touch before snapping them open again. A mere blink. “I know how you two get when you’re practicing.” 

“I guess I have some time to stay for a bit,” he conceded with a sheepish grin. After all, she had fixed up a few bloody noses, shallow cuts, and looked after a concussion or two from both him and Peter while she still lived on their grounds. Neither of the kings liked to lose. 

“Lucky me,” Issi said with a smile. “And I want to make sure you don’t have a concussion.” She clicked her tongue much like how her mother did when she was annoyed with her daughter. She busied herself by taking strips of cloth and dunking it into the bowl, making sure the liquid settled in the bowel soaked into the material. “Riding that horse all the way, could’ve done you more damage. Can’t have you hurting yourself, can we?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Edmund grumbled. He looked around the space before looking back at her. “What do you have for Lucy, anyway?” 

“A whole tin of marzipan,” Issi explained. “And a couple other sweets. Made fresh from the bakery.” 

“Yes, Lu would certainly come here to yell at you should she not have gotten any sweets,” Edmund said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “OUCH!” Edmund violently flinched when Issi pressed a sopping strip of cloth to the back of his hand. 

“Keep speaking like that, and my bedside manner will leave a lot to be desired,” Issi said with a smile.  

-

Tag List: @foxesandmagic @witchofinterest @ocappreciationtag @darknightfrombeyond - I apologize if I forgot to add anyone to this tag list.

#witchofinterest #answered ask #ask #prompt #chronicles of narnia #narnia #edmund pevensie #oc: issi winters #edmund x issi #edmund x oc #authored by: rhuben #by: rhuben

[raging-violets]

The Flash: The Christmas Light "Fight" - CiscoxAverey

Summary: Cisco and Averey talk about the truly important part of Christmas: stringed lights. 

Authored by: Rhuben

A/N: I’ve been meaning to do a holiday/Christmas themed thing for CiscoxAverey for a long time and every year the holidays just seem to come by faster and faster so, I came up with this verrrry last minute. But it’s still the holidays, so here you go!  

- 

-

“Ok!” Cisco’s declaration over the low hum of machines in the Cortex pulled Averey’s attention away from the carton of Chinese food in her hands. Seemingly giving up on trying to maneuver a chunk of chicken to her mouth with chopsticks, she rolled her head on her shoulders to look at him. “When you arrive at my parents’ place, the first thing you do is...?” 

“Greet everybody there or it’d be considered rude.” 

“And when it’s time to eat you...?” 

“Take everything that’s offered, or it’d be considered rude.” 

“And before we leave?” 

“Say ‘goodbye’ to everybody or it’d be considered rude.” 

“There you go,” Cisco said with a triumphant nod. “You really have nothing to worry about.” 

“I’m not worried,” Averey said swiftly. She emphasized her point as she rested her feet on the counter.  

Cisco felt his muscles tense just slightly thinking about how Caitlin would react to the move. But how many times had he done the same thing when keeping watch over the Pipeline inhabitants? He now knew ways to speed clean that not only would make The Flash jealous, but his old college dorm, too. 

“Mmhm.” 

“I’m no-o-ot,” Averey sing-songed. 

“O-ka-a-ay,” Cisco sing-songed back. 

Their soft laughter faded back into the low hum of the machines as they continued to eat. They didn’t necessarily need to keep watch over the metas in the Pipeline. It wasn’t like they had any place to go. But Cisco hadn’t liked the idea of them being kept in what amounted to solitary confinement during the holidays. It broke his wallet a bit, sure, but he did ask if there was anything more than Big Belly Burger they wanted for a “feast.” And he did try to lighten the mood with some festive music pumped throug the area, though a few metas quickly put the kibosh on any repeats of “Last Christmas” to which left Cisco aghast. 

“What kind of gifts do your parents like?” Averey asked, her cheek poking out from the mound of noodles, onion, and chicken she managed to get into her mouth.  

“I’ve already put your name on the tag,” Cisco replied, setting down his chopsticks to wave his free hand in the air. “Just go along with it. They’ll love it.” Averey laughed through her nose, hunching over her carton to make sure the waterfall of noodles hanging out of her mouth didn’t fall out. The steam briefly fogged up the lenses of her glasses, making her laugh harder until she could gather herself. 

“And what kind of decorators are they?” 

Cisco gave her a confused look and she put up a hand while she licked the lo mein sauce off her lips. She then put her hand over mouth.  

“I mean, do they put decorations up after Halloween, or do they wait until after Thanksgiving? And how much should I expect?” 

“You remember Dante’s birthday party?” Cisco asked. Averey nodded. “20 times more than that. Inside and outside. My parents love the holidays. Dad makes sure he’s not out on the road so he can end the year and start the new one with mom. And mom wants as much as her family around her, too.” He was silent for a moment, looking around the room. “Especially now, I suppose. After everything with S.T.A.R. Labs...and Dante...and everything.” 

He stared into his food, absentmindedly repeatedly stabbing at it with his chopsticks. It was hard enough for her to take care of the home by herself (though she’d insist she liked the space to do things her way) without his father around, but after seeing the danger Dante had been put in when Captain Cold was wreaking havoc, and how Cisco was still clawing his way back up to a reputable job in her eyes, and the frequent meta-human attacks, he couldn’t blame her for wanting to know her entire family was home safe. 

He cleared his throat. “You?” 

“Well, Christmas holidays falls at the time of year when it’s pretty hot outside so mum, Daniel, and I don’t decorate outside much. Anywhere under 30 Celsius is not too bad, but it’s gotten over 30 before. It’s a bonus if there aren’t any bushfires, either,” Averey said, tapping at her bottom lip with her chopsticks. “Everybody’s on the beach, or by the pool, or looking to sneak a swim in at the creek, so we’re not usually around home. Some do travel to get that ‘White Christmas’, but not a lot do. We tend to lean towards Christmas lunch being our big meal of the day. And it’s usually me, mum, Daniel, and my grandad, so not much to decorate inside, either. I have crackers for you lot, by the way.” 

It took a couple of seconds for Cisco to not only realize the sudden change in topic, but also that she wasn’t referring to food. 

“What about your parents and lights?” Averey asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

“My mum and Daniel fight about the Christmas lights every year,” Averey explained. “How to string them up. When to string them up. White Christmas lights or colored Christmas lights. When I was a kid, the fighting got so bad, I thought they’d split over it.” 

“No way.” 

“Really. They have strong opinions about Christmas lights.” Averey nodded emphatically; her eyebrows lifted. “I don’t know how they compromise every year. This year it’s white Fairy lights indoors and colored Christmas lights outdoors.” She slapped a hand down on the arm rest of her chair. “I swear, if more people knew that about each other from the jump, there’d be less fights this time of year.” 

“I’ll go ahead and make sure I put that in my dating app profiles,” Cisco said sarcastically. Averey rolled her eyes, the corners of her lips twitching upwards into a hint of a smile. He smiled innocently back at her. As if he’d still be on dating apps while he was with her. 

“You should. It’d be a right laugh, anyway. Very unique. Don’t reckon a lot of people do it, and it’s one thing to get out of the way.” 

“You think it’s that important to ask when you’re dating someone?” 

“It needs to be one of the things you should ask. Don’t you reckon?” Cisco stared at her. “Come on: ‘how serious do you see this getting’, ‘how do you want to raise your kids’, ‘do you want kids’, ‘where are you going to live if you move house together’, and ‘what Christmas lights do you prefer’ should be the big five questions of a relationship.” She put up a finger for each question before grasping her chopsticks again. “Seen mates drop each other over less things. For the record, I prefer white Christmas lights.” 

“Uggghhh!” Cisco dramatically flopped his head back on the headrest of his chair. 

“What?” 

He started twisting his desk chair back and forth, putting his head to his shoulder as he looked at her. “Come on! You can’t be serious.” 

“It’s classic!” 

“Classically boring. What’s wrong with all the colors?” 

“Nothing. But people can make them look gaudy if they’re not careful.” Averey’s nose wrinkled at the thought and Cisco found himself grinning. He shouldn’t have been surprised. She always said she hated obnoxious colors and patterns. “Like...like a circus threw up all over their house or something.” 

“What’s wrong with making your house look fun?” 

“There’s ‘fun’ and then there’s gaudy.” She let out a short, high-pitched laugh through her nose. “Not surprised you like them, though.” 

“Are you saying I’m gaudy?” 

Averey looked over his “Ugly Christmas Sweater” themed graphic t-shirt. Her face contorted in an over-exaggerated “Oh, honey” look. She said nothing else. He set down his food and grabbed the hem of his shirt in his hands, stretching it out to look at it. As if he hadn’t already done so and posted the pictures on his social media. 

It had The Flash’s lightning bolt logo on it, too.  

Central City had really expanded on The Flash’s notoriety since he had made his first appearance. First a drink at Jitters, then “The Flash” Halloween costumes, and now this. Barry was smug when he saw the drink available on the board at CC Jitters; he didn’t know what to do with himself when he got his first “The Flash” trick or treater; but he laughed when Cisco showed him the new holiday clothes that had been released. Then he had shook his head in somewhat embarrassment when Cisco struted into S.T.A.R. Labs with his own purchased shirt.  

He’d shake his head even more when he opened his gifts on Christmas day. 

“I don't know if I should be offended.” Cisco used his hands to push his hair back form his face as he settled back into his chair. 

“I’m saying it matches your personality. Fun.” 

“Awww, and yours matches your personality, too,” Cisco coo-ed, putting his hand over his heart. 

Averey’s eyes playfully narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Ave!” 

“What?” 

“Your favorite subject is History!” 

“So?” 

Cisco dropped his head back again, closed his eyes, and let out a loud, long, fake snore. Averey removed her feet from the desktop and prodded his thigh with the tip of her right shoe. 

“I’m not boring,” she said defensively. “And neither is History. Thank you very much,” 

“No,” Cisco agreed, a warm smile coming to his face, “you’re definitely not boring.” His smiled widened when he saw the blush that tinged Averey’s cheeks a berry-red kind of color. 

“Just...shut up and tell me what your fortune is,” Averey grumbled, setting down her carton of food. She reached for the pile of cookies, shoving a few towards him. Her head bowed, she quickly worked on the plastic wrap surrounding her own few. 

“Ok, ok.” Cisco carefully settled his fortune cookies in his lap and started removing the plastic from his as well. Cracking one open, he squinted in the dim light to read it. “’Don’t take yourself so seriously’,” Cisco read aloud, “’no one else does’.” He shoved the two halves of cookie into his mouth, crunching loudly as Averey tilted her head back and let out a loud cackle. A smile of amusement came to his face. “If it wasn’t so true, I’d be writing a strongly worded letter to these people. What does yours say?” 

“’Be patient. Good things come to those who wait’.” 

Cisco snorted. “What patience? You nearly bit off my arm just waiting for the food to be delivered.” 

“I’m a growing meta, Cisco.” Averey balled up the fortune between her fingers and tossed it at him. It bounced off his shoulder and hit the floor. “I need my food.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Ok, this one says, ‘Believing that you are beautiful, will make others around you think you’re beautiful, too’.” 

Averey grinned, reaching out a hand to slide her fingers through his hair. “With those gorgeous locs? Of course!” she declared. “What a beaut!” 

“You’re too kind,” Cisco laughed. “Even I have to agree, I do have great hair.” 

Averey retracted her hand from his hair and opened her next fortune cookie. “’You have an unusually magnetic personality.’” 

Cisco grabbed the arm of Averey’s chair, pulling her closer to him (ignoring her protests of “Wait! My food!” as she hastily tried to grab for it.) He smiled at her and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “I sure think so,” he said quietly. Averey smiled and cupped his cheek with her hand before pressing a kiss to his lips. And another. And another. Cisco pressed his forehead to hers, looping an arm around her shoulders when she pulled away. He read her next fortune over her shoulder, “’You are contemplating some action, which will bring credit upon you.’”  

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Soooo going ‘round to your parents for Christmas?” she asked, looking up at him. 

“I’d say so. It’d give me brownie points to start off next year, anyway,” Cisco’s eyes then widened and he snapped his fingers. “Oh! And what do you need to stay away from while you’re there?” 

“Your aunt’s eggnog.” 

“That’s my girl,” Cisco cheered, pumping his fist. Averey laughed through her nose. “If white Christmas lights are your one flaw, I’ll just have to accept it.” 

“Hey!” 

“Come on. I mean...” Cisco looked around the room before getting to his feet. “Look, even this is pretty.” He made his way over ot the Cortex light switch, making a show of flipping the switch into the OFF position. All the main lights in the space went out immediately, leaving the lights from the machines on. Reds, greens, blues, and whites all twinkling and blinking in the space. “See?” He stepped over to her chair, kneeling beside her, watching as she took in all of the lights around them, the lights reflected off the lenses of her glasses. 

“And there we’ve got our giant red Christmas tree,” she joked, indicating the light shining over The Flash suit. “Ok. I see your point.” She smiled at him. “Happy Christmas, Cisco.” 

-

Tag List: @ocappreciationtag @darknightfrombeyond @witchofinterest @hogwarts-is-my-wonderland @foxesandmagic @ochub - And if anyone wanted to be added to any of our tag lists, or just all of them, let us know :)

#the flash #fd: the flash #cisco x oc #cisco x averey #the flash oc #oc: averey moore #averey!the flash #CiscAve #authored by: rhuben #by: rhuben

[raging-violets]

Hugging them to shield their face from the sight. + dealers choice!

The Flash: Prompt | Tunnel Vision | Cisco x Averey (OC)

A/N: After Barry is "destroyed" in Season 2xEpisode 20 "Rupture"

-Rhuben OTP Prompts: Protectiveness | Ask Box

-

Everything seemed to blur and come into focus all at the same time as Cisco took in the scene in front of him. Or rather what he could see through the dissipating smoke. Smoke that smelled horribly of chemicals and ash. It wasn’t a smell he wasn’t used to; working in the field of science and building all the “toys” he could, he was used to the smell of chemicals, and it wasn’t out of the ordinary for a circuit board to fry here and there. But together? That was a horrible smell.

He could feel his mouth form words, he was asking a question, but he didn’t hear it as he took in the sight in front of him: everybody picking themselves up off of the floor; Iris with her hands clasped tightly over her mouth; Joe whose face was slack and void of any emotion save for the tears that were collecting in his eyes; Henry grasping firmly to the bars in front of him as his knees gave out; Harry whose face was twisted into a haunted gaze; Averey who sat with her back to the small flight of stairs, staring into the empty space that had just held Barry’s writhing form only moments before.

“What did you do to my son?” A quiet question. And then, “What did you do to my son?!” 

Cisco didn’t really know if Henry had shouted those words, or if his grief was just so palpable that he could feel it all around and inside himself. He barely registered the rush of wind that pulled at him, his hair and clothes, that signified Zoom’s appearance. He barely registered the words that Zoom were saying, his eyes just zeroed in on the large, charred, chunk of Barry’s suit that Zoom clutched tightly in his hand.

“Well done…” Zoom’s gloating words floated past Cisco’s ears. Still, he couldn’t focus on the monster in front of him, just the shred of suit in Zoom’s talons. The suit he had worked so hard on. The suit that his best friend was no longer wearing. His best friend who was nowhere to be seen. “You’ve killed him instead.”

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Out of his lungs. What did he do? What did he do to Henry’s son? To Joe? To Iris? To his best friend?

Cisco buried his face into his hands before sliding his hands up over his face, over his hair, attempting to calm himself down. To think! How were mothers so good at that? How could they just stroke their children’s hair, and shush them, and make everything feel like it was going to be ok. But he couldn’t do that for himself. He couldn’t close his eyes, and whisper, “Everything will be ok” and expect just that when he opened them again.

His hands were shaking too much. His legs were shaking too much. His heartbeat fluttered as quickly as a hummingbird in his chest. And Averey wouldn’t stop shouting Barry’s name over and over and over and over. Iris’s heart wrenching sobs echoed around the room.

And then he was moving. He turned to see Harry just staring, staring at where Zoom had just been standing. Joe held Iris tightly to his chest, still with the same empty, yet solemn look on his face. Henry was now leaning heavily on the stair railing, forehead pressed to his forearm, his other hand placed heavily on Averey’s shoulder through the gaps in the railing bars, trying to provide some comfort to his daughter.

Cisco was then by Averey’s side, pulling her to him. “Stop,” he said to her as she fought against him, trying to pull away from his embrace. “Stop looking. Stop.” His voice cracked at the command. He was saying those words to her as much as he was saying it to himself. To stop looking at what he had just done and to attempt to stop the tears that were coming to his eyes. He pressed her forehead into his chest and whispered into her ear, “I’m so sorry.”

#witchofinterest #answered ask #ask #prompt #oc: averey moore #averey!the flash #cisco x oc #cisco x averey #ciscave #authored by: rhuben #by: rhuben #man i really miss these two #and i miss writing in this fandom

[raging-violets]

Caged Nightingale | Chronicles of Narnia | Chapter 01 - Read on FFN or AO3

Authored by: Rhuben Rated: T

FULL SUMMARY: [REWRITE] Readjusting to his "old life", Edmund finds himself drawn back into a Narnia he doesn’t recognize. A Narnia filled with ruin and loss. Much like himself. Feeling like he betrayed his beloved lands for a second time, and haunted by memories of the White Witch, Edmund will do everything he can to extinguish his lingering doubts of his royal title.

Witnessing the effects of war on her father, Issi has dreamt of a life of healing. Following the honeyed voice only she hears - the spirit that leads her straight into becoming a Telmarine prisoner of war – Issi promises to nurture Narnia (whatever that was) the best way she knew how, but found herself rebuilding a King desperate for some sanctuary, all the while fighting off the growing urge to do him and his family harm.

-

Excerpt:

“They are ready for her now. Do not keep him waiting.” 

“I’ll fetch her right away.” 

The whispers of strength, morsels of advice, and mutters of worry all ceased when the sound of the lock being turned clacked loudly. She sucked in her breath, becoming as still as the room suddenly felt with the quiet words of comfort now gone, and pulled her gaze away from the sliver of blue-gray sky she could see from the window of the fortified tower. 

It wasn’t booms on the door or urgent fists that would startle her out of her thoughts. With the air sirens, shouts from the street at all hours relaying information about the war, the high-pitched wails of loss, Issi had gotten used to just how noisy noise was. No, it was the quieter moments that put her on edge. The soft knocks on the front door that weren’t expected. The knocks that would lead to the reveal of the telegram: 

REPORT JUST RECEIVED THROUGH THE INTERNATIONAL RED CROSS STATES YOUR HUSBAND JAMES T WINTERS IS A PRISONER OF WAR OF THE GERMAN GOVERNMENT IN BERTH LETTER OF INFORMATION FOLLOWS FROM GENERAL NICHOLLS 

Or the arrival of the little child that needed a safe place to stay. They never had much; one pair of shoes, worn socks, clothes and bits of bread shoved haphazardly into the suitcase they could barely lift. Photographs: glass cracked, and frames splintered littered over the little clothing they managed to pack in what little time they had to do so. Keepsakes of the family the child did not understand they were now separated from. Possibly forever. 

The wooden door to the curved room pulled outwards with a loud, sustained creak. Two guards rushed into the room, snapping shackles around her wrists before she could make a move. The taller of the two guards roughly pulled her to her feet with a harsh tug on the chains. “Did you not hear?” the guards brushed past the woman who strode into the room, ignoring her inquiry. The hem of her dress clutched tightly between her thin fingers. “I said I would fetch her. She trusts me. Unhand her this instant.”

“Lord Miraz has summoned for her. He must not be kept waiting.”

Shout out to @purpleyearning​ for the fic cover!

Tag List: @foxesandmagic @witchofinterest @arrthurpendragon @andromedalestrange​ @darknightfrombeyond​ @ocappreciationtag​

#narnia fanfiction #chronicles of narnia #fd: narnia #oc: issi winters #fc: niamh walsh #fic: caged nightingale #edmund x oc #authored by: rhuben #by: rhuben #new story #chapter update

[raging-violets]

[ TERROR ] - sender hugs receiver out of sheer fear. + issi!

Narnia: A Nightmare to Remember // Prompt // Prince Caspian and Issi Winters (OC)

A/N: Set during The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

Issi stepped across the carpeted floor, further into Caspian’s cabin. She was used to the cramped space in the room she shared with Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace. Used to sharing her bedroom when a lone child refugee came across the Winters’ doorstep. Used to snuggling close to her mother to feel some comfort on the longer nights when her father had been held captive overseas. She had even grown used to the small room she had been held prisoner in Lord Miraz’s castle.  

Open, seemingly endless spaces were, now, what made her wary. Had her on edge. There were too many hiding places. Too many opportunities for someone to sneak up behind her. Still, there was some comfort in seeing Caspian’s form settled behind his large oak desk in the otherwise vast room. He briefly looked at her, the glow of the lamp dancing over his face, alighting his dark eyes, as the room tilted and swayed around them.

“Can’t sleep.” He said it more as an observation than a question. Even if he had asked, she didn’t think she could answer. The coldness of her fear still clutched at her throat with its sharp fingers, making her as uncomfortable as the rain water that pulled her bed clothing down around her shoulders. Stepping over to the, Issi gave a slight nod of her head. “Must have been some dream.”

“Nightmare, really,” she managed to reply, barely moving her lips. People on ships see weird things all the time. Things they can’t explain. Things that aren’t there.  

“Seems to be going ‘round the crew,” Caspian commented. He looked over his shoulder and out the window to the roiling seas, flashes of lightning, and cracks of thunder. “Edmund and Lucy are up, too.” Issi took a step towards him, throwing out a hand to stop herself from careening into the bookshelf at the sudden pitch to the left.  

“And my mum says it’s a gentle rocking that will soothe even the fussiest of babes,” she commented as she steadied herself.

“I was warned about the sea.” Caspian’s gaze was still on the water crashing against the windows. “What all this time would do to us. How it can mess with the mind. When you’re this far out, and it’s dark, when the seas are calm, it can be tough to tell when the sky ends, and the horizon begins.”

“Tis a mighty thing of beauty,” Issi said. It was still eerie to feel the wind rush past her on the deck on the clearest of days, and yet it made no noise to announce its presence. There were no trees to rush through. No wind chimes. Just that feeling that something had brushed past your skin, and just as gently leaves you. All without a sound. Dreams and nightmares could only be so vividly odd.

Twisting halls leading to nowhere, Issi still raced through Miraz’s castle, through doors, trying to find a way out. Upstairs. Downstairs. Freedom outside the windows she seemed to never be able to reach. Never be able to touch. And chasing her, knowing every move she made, always behind her, the sound of creaking armor. Of commands of her return. Of Jadis, her voice encircling her head, bouncing from ear to ear, enticing to her left, waspish to her right. To the bodies of the fallen Narnians lining the corridors, staining the already red carpets an even deeper shade of mahogany. She rushed through another door and was rooted to the spot upon coming to a lion who struck her with a fierce gaze, enveloping her with a loud roar.

Only when she felt his arms wrapped around her and looked up to find Caspian pulling her to him in a hug, did she realize she was shaking. When he had crossed the room, she couldn’t recall, but accepted his hug, for she could feel the unspoken fear in him, too.

-

Tag List: @witchofinterest @arrthurpendragon @itsjustgracy @darknightfrombeyond @ocappreciationtag​

#witchofinterest #answered ask #ask #prompt #chronicles of narnia #narnia oc #prince caspian #oc: issi winters #authored by: rhuben #by: rhuben

[raging-violets]

Out of Focus (The Flash) | Chapter Twenty-Seven | Read on FFN

*banner by @arrthurpendragon

Fic: Sequel to “In a Flash” Authored by: Rhuben OCs that appear: Averey Moore, FC: Elliot Page (role: Kitty Pryde, X-Men) Rated: T Series: Blindsided [2nd in series]

Full Summary: “You can’t depend on your judgement when your imagination is out of focus.” Six months after closing the singularity, Central City continues to be exposed to meta-humans, and Team Flash continue to be haunted by the deaths of two of their own. With his dad released from Iron Heights, Barry looks forward to living the life he’s wanted since his mom died. While he seeks stability, he finds himself stumbling as his speed starts to fluctuate at the worst times. Jay Garrick arrives in Central City, and Barry is hesitant to believe what he says about Earth-2. He’s also hesitant to believe that he’s seeing the doppelgänger of not only Harrison Wells, but a friend he thought he lost.

In her final months of probation, Averey must navigate Team Flash and the meta-human world that moved on without her. Stuck between being a normal law-abiding citizen and becoming a hero, she tries to keep the eyes of Central City off her to fly under the radar. Unfortunately, due to her familial line and her past in the Royal Flush Gang, she’s already been overexposed.

As Cisco’s “vibe memories” come more frequently, and his abilities grow stronger, he fears what he can become. When he’s pushed to be more than just a computer nerd, and being more than the baby brother of the great Dante Ramon, he finds it harder to connect with someone on the same wavelength as him. Easier said than done; especially when the alternative is to fully reconnect with his brother.

Then the powerful Zoom arrives; bringing with him meta-humans stronger than they’ve faced before, including a disgruntled speedster carrying the face of their past. Can Barry keep the team together when Central City faces the greatest obstacle; losing faith in the Flash?

-

Tag List: @witchofinterest​ @foxesandmagic​ @arrthurpendragon @villain-connoisseur ​ @ochub​ @ocappreciationtag​ @hogwarts-is-my-wonderland​

#fd: the flash #flarrowverse #oc: averey moore #fic: out of focus #series: blindsided #averey!the flash #cisco x oc #by: rhuben #authored by: rhuben #chapter update #it took me almost two years to update this fic #but it's here

[raging-violets]

The Flash: Life on Standby | 9x12: “A New World, Part 3: Changes” | Barry Allen & Averey Moore (OC)

A/N: Kinda/sorta spoilery for the future of the Blindsided series (and spoilers for the show) but I’ve had something like this stuck in my head since I watched 9x12 and I needed to write it down, haha.

-Rhuben

“He said that he has the chance to change everything. That if he chooses the crystal, he could get everything he deserves." Averey screwed up her nose as Barry made another pass around the living room. “I just don’t understand. How could he want to do this? That's not Eddie. It’s not the Eddie we know.” 

Averey’s eyebrows lifted as she watched him. He had spent the whole time they had stood in Eddie’s “home” relaying everything he had just experienced with their friend. And the whole time, apart from her inquiry about where they were, Averey had been quiet. She didn’t say a word, just twisted her features in reaction to the words that came out of his mouth. 

So it really through him for a loop when Averey looked him square in the eye and said, flatly, “Shut up, Barry.” 

Barry stopped pacing, coming to a halt in the middle of the living room. “What?” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

“Eddie’s getting the chance to see what kind of life he’d get to have should things have been normal for at least five bloody minutes,” Averey explained, her eyebrows coming towards each other. “How do you not understand that?” 

“It’s the Negative Speed Force, Averey,” Barry reminded her. “It’s not real. None of this, none of what he wants, is real!” 

“And it was the Reverse Flash, Barry. And then it was Zoom. And then it was Savitar.” Barry let out a noise of frustration and spun on his heel to storm into the dining aera. Averey followed him, calling after him to say, “There’s always going to be someone that’ll change things – the timeline - in our lives, B. It may not be real to you, or any of us, but it’s real to him.” 

Barry made a scoffing sound, shaking his head. 

“Ah, my apologies, mate.” Averey’s tone suddenly took on sarcasm. “Guess I just never realized you were the only one who was allowed to take the chance to see how your life was different.” 

Barry whirled around to face her. “That’s not true.” 

“It is true, and you know it,” adopting his direct tone. “You’re selfish, Barry Allen!” 

Barry’s jaw dropped. The start of his next sentence died in his throat. “Unbelievable,” he said quietly. A derisive laugh came forth. “I’m trying to save the whole timeline right now,” Bary said, jabbing himself in the chest. “Our lives! Our future! How is that me being selfish?” 

“As long as it’s your mum, or your wife, then you get the green light to do whatever you want with the timeline,” Averey shot back, swinging her arms in the air to indicate everything around them. “That’s how! But if it’s anyone else, we’re not allowed to make that decision.” Barry scoffed again. Averey’s eyebrows lifted and she let out a high-pitched scoff-laugh of disbelief. “You didn’t go back in time for Cisco to save Dante, and yet you tried desperately to save Iris from Savitar.” 

“Averey...” 

“You created that Flashpoint timeline because you went back to save Miss Nora.” 

“Ok, but--” 

“And that wouldn’t have even happened in the bloody first place if you hadn’t gone back in time to save your mum from Eobard!” Barry’s nostrils flared as he expelled a breath of air in one sharp exhale. “And the funny part about all of that was, that it was pointless. Miss Nora was always going to die, and yet you kept trying.” 

“I didn’t even know about any of that until now,” Barry said weakly.

Averey put her head into her hands. Barry planted his hands on his hips and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “You don’t get it, Barry.” 

“Oh, come on--” 

“I’M NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO EXIST!” Averey lifted her head, eyes ablaze. Barry grimaced at the sudden shout. “I’ve always wondered what our lives would have actually been like if none of this ever happened. If that original timeline, if that real first timeline played out where Nora didn’t die, I wondered how that would be.” She jabbed herself in the chest, her voice cracking. “And I don’t even exist, Barry! Either Henry never has an affair with my mum, and I’m never born, or I’m a different person and our paths just don’t ever cross and we don’t know about each other. But to you, no matter what, I’ve never existed. I wasn’t supposed to.”

Barry wet his lips with his tongue.

“I remember everything from every timeline that’s ever been changed. I remember everything before that tidal wave hit Central City.” She sniffed, using the heel of her palm to wipe at her nose, turning her head away from him. “I remember the first time I told Cisco that I was in love with him, but he doesn’t. It’s different for him. And it’ll always be that way. But you don’t care.”

“Ave…”

Her face became hard again. “Which isn’t a far cry from anything else, because outside of Iris, it’s like nothing exists for you. Except for her.”

Barry gaped at her. “Averey, she’s my wife.”

“And I’m your sister!” Now Barry put his face into his hands. “Not that I want anything to happen to Iris, you know I don’t, but you can always get a new wife. You can’t bloody get a new sibling.” 

Barry opened and closed his mouth.

“And that kind of sucks, because it’s been sweet as getting to know you these past ten years.” Averey wiped at her eyes with her hands. “And that’s what the Thawnes tried to do. They tried to forget that Malcolm even existed, and just put Eddie into that slot. He’s had to live his life based on other people’s standards and expectations. There’s even pressure further down that bloodline as far as Eobard is concerned.” 

“That’s no excuse to act like this though,” Barry said tiredly. 

“Come on, B.” Averey turned away from him and moved to sit down on the couch. Barry stepped closer to her, reaching up to tap his fingertips against the entryway to the room. “It’s easy for you to say that. You’ve never been on that side of being compared to anybody. Because you’re Barry Allen.” A hint of a laugh rumbled in Barry’s throat at her jazz hands at his name.

“Mate, dad compared himself to Joe all of the time because he wasn’t there to raise you.” Barry blinked rapidly in response.

“Dad never told me that,” Barry said quietly, leaning his head against his stretched arms.

“You know Wally had that grudge against you when you two first met, and I reckon a part of him still feels that way.” Averey put a hand to her chest. “I know I still have issues with Iris I’m working out even now, because of how angry I was with her being. Eddie’s going through it, now, too. He’s just now feeling the weight of all of that emotion at one time.”

“And the Negative Speed Force is feeding off of it,” Barry reminded her. “I know he can fight it off. I know he can.” 

“So, do I,” Averey said. “I don’t reckon that Eddie should listen to the Negative Speed Force and take that crystal, but you’re one big ass hypocrite for trying to force him to stop something you’ve already done so many times without a second thought.” 

“Ok, ok...” Barry slowly nodded. He dropped his arms down to his sides and moved to sit down beside her. “I hear you...” 

“It’s not out of the ordinary for people to wonder what their lives would be like if things were different. Yeah?” Averey crossed her arms over her chest, settling back against the cushions. She turned towards the window, squinting towards the bright lights illuminating the street. “Like if we didn’t make this decision, or take that job, or if we just had more time…” Silence feel between them as the end of her sentence trailed off. “You’ve had all the time in the world to figure this out. Eddie has the chance to make that decision for himself right now. He’s still the same Eddie; he’s just faced with a very difficult decision.” 

“And if he chooses wrong?” 

Averey looked at him, a solemn look on her face. “Then we gotta do, what we gotta do. But we can’t make him feel like he’s evil for being human and wanting something he always thought he couldn’t have. Or what he’s told he can’t have.” 

“I just can’t believe Eddie would even consider this.”

“Please. You all thought he was selfish and into himself before this. CCPD called him ‘Detective Pretty Boy,’ remember?” A wry smile came to her face. “Or was that just your jealousy talking? Because he had Iris, and you had a lenghty date with a coma.”

Barry pressed his lips together and twisted his mouth to the side. “I...we...just didn’t know him.” 

“You know him now.” Averey bumped his shoulder with hers. “Don’t hold it against him when he doesn’t choose to act the way you would. That’s not fair to him.”

“When did you get so smart?” Barry asked. “Almost sounded like something Joe would say.”

“Being around all you smart blokes, it was bound to happen,” Averey said, her smile widening slightly. “You’re the paragon of love, Barry. Sooner or later, I’d have to throw one of these sorts of speeches back in your face, right?” Her smile slowly faded. “So, what do we do now?”

“Prepare,” Barry said, just as solemn, “to do what we gotta do.”

-

Tag List: @arrthurpendragon​ @andromedalestrange​ @darknightfrombeyond​ @witchofinterest​ @hogwarts-is-my-wonderland​

#the flash #barry allen #eddie thawne #oc: averey moore #averey!the flash #the flash fanfiction #the flash 9x12 #by: rhuben #authored by: rhuben

[raging-violets]

Person A wiping away Person B’s tears + your choice!

Big Time Rush: I Feel So // Prompt // Kendall and Rhuben (OC)

A/N: A recent review on an old BTR fic of Riley’s and seeing Leaf’s (@witchofinterest) casting of their BTR OCs for us made me finally come around to how I want to write this. So, thank you!

By: Rhuben

Trigger Warning: Abuse mention, Eating disorder mention

Tag List: @partiallypearl @foxesandmagic @darknightfrombeyond @deputyvilmoskovacs

-

“Let’s do it again.” Kendall planted his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. He watched Rhuben’s reflection pause in sliding her hand into the pocket of her cargo pants. “Come on,” he urged when she pulled her mouth to the side, casting his reflection a curious glance. He grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled it up to his bright red face, sopping us as much sweat as he could before it pooled on his face again. “Let’s do it again.”

Kendall sighed through his nose when Rhuben didn’t answer but removed a small remote control from her pocket and aimed it at the stereo in the corner, cutting the loud repeated clicking metronome that pulsated around the room. His second heavy sigh was suddenly the loudest thing in the room. “I thought you’d want me to do it again.”

It wasn’t unusual for practically the only words out of Rhuben’s mouth during dance practice was “Again.” He could barely catch his breath, finishing the final eight count of a song before he was commanded to start over. It wasn’t like it wasn’t good practice; a two-hour concert was all about consistent movement. And as Big Time Rush’s popularity as the modern-day boy band craze grew, he knew he needed all the extra practice he could get. He was lauded for it in regards to hockey, how was this any different?

“You’ve already done it six times in a row, mate,” Rhuben pointed out to him. Still speaking to his reflection in the wall of mirrors stretched out in front of them. She tapped her chin with the remote before flipping it in the air, catching it. “You need a break.”

“I’ll take a break after this one,” Kendall replied. “Seventh time’s a charm, right?” He laced his fingers together and slid his hands over the top of his head, nearly knocking his gray (now dark gray because of his sweat) beanie off of his head to clasp his hands at the back of his neck. His chest slowly lifted and fell with each deep breath. He closed his eyes. “Come on, just one more time. You guys go through songs like six times in a row.”

“Kendall,” Rhuben said, dropping her arm down to the side, giving him an incredulous look, “we’ve got five formations for our songs. You lot don’t. You have your place and you hit your mark. That’s it. Don’t make it any harder than it needs to be.”

“So…” he lifted his foot, stretching out his long leg nudging her thigh with the point of his toe. He gave a half smile in response to her reluctant chuckle at her forced movement. She slid the remote back into her pocket. “Let’s do it again, help me make sure I hit my marks.”

Rhuben lifted her hands and pulled her sweaty, stringy purple-black hair from her face, holding it in a ponytail between her hands. She squinted her piercing blue eyes at him, finally turning to look at his real-life form instead of his mirror self. “You don’t have to do that,” she said, releasing her hair.

“Do what?” Kendall asked, frustration starting to creep into his voice. He closed his eyes, taking in another deep breath. He just wanted to go through the dance again, was that too much to ask?

“Punish yourself,” Rhuben replied. Kendall’s eyes popped open, and he gave her a look that was part curiosity and part annoyance.

“Punish myself for what?” he asked with more bite than he meant to. Rhuben’s eyebrows shot upwards, eyes narrowing slightly as she leaned away from him in a semi-recoil. “Sorry.” She still didn’t say a word. “Boy you look so much like Riley when you do that.”

Rhuben laughed through her nose. Bowing her head for a moment, she took a step towards him, lifted her head, and clicked her tongue before saying, “Punishing yourself for inviting your dad to the album listening party.”

Kendall dropped his arms down to his sides. “That’s not…It’s not like…I didn’t…" he tried again and again to come up with a sentence but found himself stumbling over his own words. He already felt stupid for the whole situation, anyway. As if his dad would actually decide to be a parent this many years later. He could barely remember a time where his dad showed up for school functions as a kid, why would this be any different? “How’d you…?”

“There’s a thing about growing up in a violent home that allows you to develop a sort of superpower called perception,” Rhuben said, waving her hand in the air. “You learn people’s moods and vibes based on how they walk, close a door, put down a glass. Enter a room, even, yeah?”

He gave a slight nod his head, looking away from her. Yes, he did understand. He understood that his mom’s smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and over the top enthusiastic greeting when he climbed into the car after hockey practice meant that she and his dad had another huge fight. He could feel how unsettlingly still the house was the second he and arrived home after school; knew it was better to keep her preoccupied and as quiet as possible.

Rhuben reached out a hand and prodded his cheek where his dimple would be apparent if he hadn’t formed his mouth into a straight line. Catching his attention. “It’s not just in the face, but I saw your face when you got the word that you could invite people to the party, and I saw it when your dad didn’t show up. Again. You were disappointed.”

Kendall talked over the end of her sentence with a swift, “No, I wasn’t.”

She was silent for a moment, her blue eyes briefly going steely. Then she calmed. “Ok. You weren’t.” Rhuben shrugged. She lowered herself into a seated position on the vinyl flooring. “You want to know how Ronan was able to spot my disordered eating so quickly?”

“I—huh?” Kendall asked, not expecting the change in serious topics. He started tapping his foot; impatiently, and to give himself something to do. “Sure.”

“Because he could see it on my face,” Rhuben explained. “At least, it’s how he explained it to me. He reckons I get this calculated look on my face when I’m starting to be triggered. He can see on my face when I’m calculating how many calories are in something I want to eat, or how long I need to exercise to burn it off.” She indicated the room with a wave of her hand. “I love dance, but I can also use it to punish myself for eating more than I planned. Gaining a single pound. Falling out of a turn. I work harder and longer to ‘get back on track’. I think you’re really pushing yourself, and not being your usually annoying self I might add—” Kendall managed a half smile, “because you want to exhaust yourself enough so that you never think of anything like that again.”

“No,” Kendall shook his head, “I want to get better so I can show him that I don’t need him anymore.” Surprised at the sudden tears that collected in his eyes, and at how spontaneously the words tumbled out of his mouth – he had been thinking about it for so long but hadn’t dared brought any reality to the words – he grabbed the collar of his shirt and pressed the damp fabric into his face with the heels of his palms.

Shoulders shaking despite his best attempt at controlling his breathing, Kendall sank into a crouched position, pressing his elbows into his knees. His hot breath, the hot tears soaking into his damp shirt, he suddenly felt uncomfortable being surrounded by clammy air. Uncomfortable at how just at the surface this all was that it could fall out of him as easily as it was.

“Hey.” Kendall peeked out from the collar of his shirt when he felt Rhuben’s hand start to rub small circles in between his shoulder blades. She gave him a gentle smile, reaching for his face to wipe away the tears that clung to his lases with the sweatbands on her wrists. Rhuben’s lips parted into a toothy (excited?) smile, her eyes flashing mischievously. “I can’t wait for the day where you can say that to the bloke’s face.”

“Yeah, neither can I,” Kendall agreed, his own smile blossoming by the second. He sucked in a deep breath of air through his nose before letting it out in a cleansing breath. “Thanks, Benny.”

“What I’m here for,” Rhuben said in a sing-song tone. Then a serious tone came to her voice despite the smile that still sat on her face. “I’m also here to run you into the ground just to get this dance right.”

“Ok,” Kendall said, clapping his hands together. He pulled himself to his feet and reached for Rhuben’s hands, pulling her to her own. “Then let’s do this.”

“Goody.” Rhuben retrieved the remote from her pocket and pointed it at the stereo. But she didn’t start the music again. Instead, she pivoted on the balls of her feet and pointed at him. “You know, even if your dad doesn’t show up to your events, Big Time Rush has only gotten bigger, so he’s bound to have seen how well you’re doing without him by now.”

“Sure,” Kendall agreed, stretching his arms across his chest. “I’d just rather him see it in person.” He twisted away from her, looking at her reflection in the mirror out of the corner of his eye. He said quietly, “Give him one last chance to say that he’s proud of me, or something. I don’t know.”

“Ok. Then let’s make. This. Look. Good!” Rhuben said, doing a combination that looked like the running man mixed in with a cheerleader move.

Kendall burst out laughing, adjusting the beanie on his head before extending his right hand towards her. Rhuben, bouncing on the balls of her feet, slapped his palm twice with hers before they both snapped their fingers, finishing their handshake.

Intimate Ideas | Ask Box

#witchofinterest #answered ask #ask #inbox game #authored by: rhuben #by: rhuben #prompt #big time rush #kendall knight #oc: rhuben jackson #i've missed writing them you guys #tw abuse mention #tw eating disorder mention

[raging-violets]

23 for colt

3 Ninjas: Hey Jealousy // Prompt // Colt DouglasxRhuben Jackson (OC)

PROMPT: Operation jealousy (High School Edition Prompts) & send a ship + kiss (List)

By: Rhuben 

A/N: I initially had the “send a ship + kiss” (from @witchofinterest) one sitting in our ask box for a while, and then more recently got the “operation jealousy” one (from anon)  specifically for Colt - that, again, sat in our ask box for a while - so I decided to put these two together. 

NOTE: When Riley and I write 3 Ninjas, I have it set in modern times: social media, cell phones, apps the whole shebang.

-

Colt would not describe himself as a jealous person. Did he get frustrated when his brothers seemed to get more attention than him? Sure. But jealous? No. Definitely not. No way. 

He knew his girlfriend’s comment about Rocky’s glasses (“You look hot, mate”) were a way to get him used to wearing them more often. If not making it so Rocky would want to wear them more often. Heck, Colt liked how she looked in her own glasses whenever she needed to wear them herself. But no matter how many times their grandpa would warn him about how Rocky’s choosing to not wear his glasses was 

Colt also knew his and Tum-Tum's teasing Rocky of having to wear glasses, despite their parents’ admonishments for doing so, didn’t help either. That just came with the territory of having two younger brothers as far as he was concerned; it was his job to mess with Rocky and Tum-Tum. What was the point of gathering ammo over the years he if wasn’t going to use it? 

(He and Rocky had both shared their surprise in how long Tum-Tum had gone without needing glasses with how close he chose to sit to the TV over the years, however. As if pressing his eyeballs right up to the glass would really help him get the timing of Mario’s jumps right.) 

Was there that little flicker of annoyance that settled in his chest when he heard those words out of Rhuben’s mouth in his brother’s direction? Sure. Not because he was jealous. Nope. Not at all. It was annoying because it was Rocky.  

It was...

Typical.  

Rocky always got positive attention. From their parents, from teachers, from other students around school. Someone who knew that he was one of the 3 Ninjas. Girls. There had even been times where (rare times, but more often as they’ve gotten older) where Rocky would take the time to want to spend time with Colt by themselves where they would be interrupted and some girl from school would drop by wherever they were and chat him up. And all Colt could do was wait and see how long he could last before he rolled his eyes.  

Luckily, ever since Rocky had started dating Riley, it wasn't much of an issue. Everyone could see that Rocky only had eyes for her, even before he realized it. Now they just didn’t want each other around on dates; even if he and Rocky were dating twin sisters who liked going on double dates. 

When she had given his best friend, Brett Summers, compliments on his clothing – going so far as pointing out his physique while wearing certain shirts – Colt barely bat an eyelash. Brett had been his best friend for years; since elementary school when their teacher paired up students with last names starting at the end of the alphabet, with kids with last names at the end of the alphabet. They had bonded over the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shoes they were both wearing. And for the whole time they’d been friends, Brett was socially more on the shy side – usually by himself or sticking by Colt’s side. Though he did know when to speak up to call Colt out on his actions or words when needed. There was no one else Colt trusted more. Unfortunately, Brett’s shy demeanor, natural intelligence, and interests in things in the information/robotics sector made him a target for Darren and his bullying antics; both verbal and physical. Colt had Brett’s back without a second thought, and always would. Compliments from his girlfriend wouldn’t break that up. 

Though, he did find himself muttering a “This is a new shirt, too,” before he could stop himself. To that, Rhuben would give a smile of amusement, her blue eyes twinkling and say, “Yeah; I bought it for you. And I was right! It looks bloody good on you.” 

So, imagine his surprise when a simple t-shirt threw him for a loop.

“Cool shirt,” he had commented as he swung his long legs over the bench at the lunch tables. After setting down his tray he slipped the straps to his backpack off his shoulders and allowed it to drop in a heap on the ground. “Another Australian band?” 

Rhuben looked down at her graphic t-shirt, lowering the egg roll she pinched between her fingers. “Shredded Silk?” she asked. “Yeah, they’re pretty wicked. Kinda metal, kinda screamo. I’ll take a squizz, see if I can find a CD you can borrow.” 

“I forgot you even had that shirt,” Riley, who sat next to Colt’s left, said as she reached for her bottle of root beer. “When’d you get it again?” 

Rhuben pulled the corners of her lips downwards and widened her eyes in innocence. “It may or may not have forcefully inherited it from Tristan,” she replied. Riley burst out laughing, and threw out a “Nice” before she tilted it back to take a long swig of her soda. 

“Huh?” Colt asked. The name was familiar to him; he was one of Rhuben’s friends from back home in Australia. Occasionally he showed up in Throwback Thursday pictures posted to her Instagram. 

Sitting across the table from Colt, Brett blinked at him behind his glasses. “She took it from her ex,” he explained. 

“Oh.” Colt slowly nodded. “That’s cool.” He grabbed his fork and started tapping it against the side of his lunch tray. “So, we have Physics next. I noticed you get cold in class sometimes. I have a sweatshirt in my locker if you wanted to borrow it.” 

“Ah, cheers, C, but I’ll be ok,” Rhuben said, waving her hand in the air. 

Riley set down her soda, and then rested her chin in the palm of her hand, elbow settled on the lunch table. She gave him a look of amusement. “Reckon I get cold in class, too,” she said, blinking her eyes innocently at him. “Do you have one for me, too?” 

“No,” Colt instantly replied. Riley and Brett both snort-laughed. “Offer’s open. Whenever you need it. Whatever.” 

“Cool.” Rhuben took a large bite from her egg roll and lifted a hand to cover her mouth as she chewed. “The music’s pretty good. T put RIles and I on it.” Colt stabbed his fork into his portion of broccoli, the prongs loudly clacking against the bottom of his tray. First the shirt and now hearing her call him “T.” His knee started to bounce as he rapidly chewed. Yeah, sure, Australians were known for their slang and cutting words short, but no one else called him “C.” Both she and RIley would sometimes call him “Col” or, to purposefully get on his nerves “Coley,” but still. Music was something he had bonded with Rhuben over, too. He couldn’t stop himself when he said: 

“I got you into A Day to Remember,” Colt reminded her. 

“I remember,” Rhuben said with a short laugh. Her eyebrows twitched towards each other. Brett struck him with a head-tilt and a narrow-eyed squint, silently asking him “What are you doing?” Colt didn’t answer. Instead, he speared another chunk of broccoli and slid it into his mouth, his teeth tightly gripping the prongs of his fork.  

She watched him rapidly chew for a moment before turning her attention back to the table saying something he didn’t pay much attention to as he continued to eat his lunch. Though he did remember giving his two cents here and there as the topic of conversation changed to homework, teachers, and weekend plans before they all immediately started moving when the bell rang indicating the end of their lunch period. 

“Wait up!” For a moment, Colt debated on whether he was going to decrease his walking speed. He and Rhuben did often walk to class together, and his long legs meant she had to work double time to keep up with his pace. “C, hold on!” 

“You don’t need to FaceTime Tristan or anything?” he asked, slowing his pace, giving her time to catch up. “I need to stop by my locker, I’m sure that’ll give you enough time.” 

“Now I know you’re taking the piss,” Rhuben commented, tucking her hair back behind her ears gazing curiously up at him. “You don’t need to go to your locker because you already have your backpack. Plus, it’s eight in the morning back home, dude. If I gave his mobile a ring now, he’d think something was wrong. And I’d have to admit I pinched his shirt. I think it looks better on me, don’t you?” 

Colt pressed his lips together before turning towards her, looping an arm around her waist to pull him towards her, at the same time using his body to back her into a row of lockers. (Yes, it did in fact look good on her. Everything looked good on her: whether she was dressing casually in band tees and ripped jeans, or more girly in a flowy sweater and skirt.) She made a noise of surprise at the sudden movement before he dipped his head and kissed her. 

Rhuben lifted up onto her tiptoes, pressing her lips harder against his, hands coming up to lightly rest on his cheeks. She settled back onto her heels after another quick peck to his lips. “C, I’m sorry.” 

“Huh?” Colt’s eyes flew open, and gazed, confused, down at her. Not exactly what he was expecting to hear after a kiss like that. He lifted his hand and pushed his fingers into his hair, moving to crash-lean against the row of lockers.

“I need to apologize to you,” Rhuben said with a sheepish smile.  

“About?” 

She grabbed handfuls of her shirt, stretching it out towards him. “See, this isn’t my ex’s shirt. It’s my brother’s. “

"What?” he asked. He couldn’t imagine wanting to borrow any of Rocky’s clothes. Their styles were completely different. 

A thoughtful look came to her face. “I don’t think he’s realized it yet, honestly. Probably should get it back in his closet soon.”  She shrugged and set her attention back to him. “I saw how broody you got when I was complimenting Rocky about his glasses...” 

“I don’t brood,” Colt protested. Rhuben made a clicking sound, giving him a half-smile of disbelief. “I don’t.” 

“You basically started flexing the second I told Brett he looked great in his new shirt,” Rhuben said with a snort. “Reckon you would’ve busted out some press-ups if given the space at the time.” She then lifted a finger and jabbed him lightly in the chest. “And, you did when I told Tum I could tell he was improving with his wrestling.” 

“Yeah, well--” 

“Hey.” She grabbed his chin between her fingers and pulled his head down to quickly kiss him again. “I like you, C. I chose to date you for a reason.” He twisted his mouth to the side as she gave him a brilliant smile. “And I’m quite happy with you, I must say. You don’t have to be jealous. Not with me, ok?” 

Colt relaxed into a smile. “Yeah, ok.” 

“I get it, you know?” she said. “Making sure you’re not lost between Rocky, and Tum. I’m a middle child, too. Technically.” Colt blinked once, and then repeatedly as he thought. Rhuben had an older brother, a twin sister, and three younger brothers. No, he hadn’t really thought of her being a middle child; just one of the oldest of her family’s six kids. “You think I don’t get frustrated whenever my parents gush over anything my brothers and sister do? Especially when it’s an activity I do, too? Like you and Rocky, and Tum with martial arts. Or whenever your dad is talking up how well Rocky is doing on the pitcher’s mound but gives you pointers in the field.”  

Colt made a non-committal sound that was almost drowned out by the bell warning them to get to class. Rhuben set her hand in the crook of his arm as they But I apologize. It wasn’t fair of me to trick you like that, and it was unfair to get Riles and Brett in on it, just to prove a hunch. I should have talked to you about it.” 

Colt gave a half-smile and leaned over to give her another quick kiss. “What was that for?” Rhuben 

“Just felt like it,” Colt replied with a shrug. He smiled. “Thanks.” 

“Anytime.” 

“And it was reassurance.” 

“Oh?” 

“I guess I get it.” Colt gave an exaggerated shrug. “I mean, I saw how jealous you got when I was around Jo so...” 

“I’m not jealous of Jo.” 

“You sure?” Colt asked, feigning . “You did say that pretty quickly. Not that I’d blame you; Jo’s awesome.” 

“Jo is awesome,” Rhuben agreed. “In fact...” She slipped her hand from the curve of his arm and quickened her pace. She turned around and started walking backwards. She grinned and stuck her tongue out at him. “I like her better than you.”

“Ha ha.”

“Hey, my ninja name is Wit for a reason.”

“You’re so not funny.”

“Get to class.”

#anonymous #witchofinterest #answered ask #3 ninjas #colt douglas #ask #by: rhuben #authored by: rhuben #prompt #fd: 3 ninjas #colt x oc #oc: rhuben jackson

[raging-violets]

Heads Up, Seven Up

Rules: Share your last 7 lines and then tag 7 people

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Rhuben: Tagged by @witchofinterest. I decided to post the most recent seven sentences from my Narnia rewrite. And my tag is any seven mutuals that wants to do this, haha

“They are ready for her now. Do not keep Lord Miraz waiting.”

“I’ll fetch her right away.”

The whispers of strength, morsels of advice, and mutters of worry all ceased when the sound of the lock being turned clacked loudly. She sucked in her breath, becoming as still as the room suddenly felt with the words of comfort now gone, and pulled her gaze away from the sliver of blue-gray sky she could see from the window of the fortified tower.

The wooden door to the curved room pulled outwards with a loud creak. Two guards rushed into the room, snapping shackles around her wrists before she could make a move. The taller of the two guards roughly pulled her to her feet with a harsh tug on the chains.

#witchofinteret #chronicles of narnia #oc: issi winters #fc: niamh walsh #fic: call of the nightingale #edmund x issi #edmund x oc #authored by: rhuben #by: rhuben #tag game

[raging-violets]

[ OKAY ] - sender gives receiver a hug in order to assure them that in the end, everything will indeed be okay. + your choice!

The Flash: Hope For the Future / Prompt / Barry, Cisco and Averey (OC)

A/N: Set during The Flash S3x19, “Once and Future Flash. By the time I get to this part in my fics, I’m not sure if I’ll keep referring to Year 2024!Barry as Bartholomew. I did it here to differentiate between the two Barrys.

[ To Be held Prompt | Ask Box ]

-

“You won’t be there for any of them. You’ll lock him in the Speed Force forever, but at that point, he already won.” Barry pressed his lips together, watching the future of himself attempting to make himself small. Crouched in the corner of the Time Vault, he twisted his fingers together. “Because everything that you’ve ever loved has gone.” Without lifting his head, Bartholomew looked up at Barry through his long bangs and said in his continued gravely voice, “Including you. Go home, Barry. There’s nothing for you, here.”

“Look, I know you said you can’t tell us who Savitar is,” Barry said, his voice cracking. He stepped further into the Time Vault, “but you must have some idea of who he is.”

“I don’t,” Bartholomew insisted, staring back into Barry’s pleading face. He lifted his shoulders in a high shrug. “Couldn’t even hazard a guess.” He let out an odd laugh; lips lifting into the first smile, the first sense of emotion, that graced his features since arriving in 2024. “I know the answers to a lot of things. I can figure out what kind of car someone drives just by looking at the tracks left behind by its tires. I can pinpoint how many robbers broke into a bank trace evidence they leave behind. But I can’t figure this out.” He pointed a finger in Barry’s direction. “You can’t figure this out. This is going to happen. Iris will die.”

“NO!” Barry didn’t mean to shout. The small room amplified his voice even more. “No. We can figure this out. We will.”

“I’ve already figured it out,” Bartholomew said, flatly. “I’ve done the math. Hundreds of thousands of outcomes, and Savitar will kill Iris. He’ll always kill Iris.”

“B.” Both Barry and Bartholomew turned at the soft voice. Barry’s shoulders sagged as he locked eyes with Averey who was leaning against the doorjamb of the Time Vault. “Come on, mate, let’s just go.” Sher jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “You’re just going to keep talking in circles with him. Er, yourself.”

Barry let out a sigh through his nose. “Yeah,” he quietly agreed, “I think you’re right.”

Bartholomew slowly got to his feet. His gaze trained on Averey. "Why is she here?" he asked Barry. Still, he stared at Averey. Then, he spoke directly to her. “Why are you here? How dare you stand here."

"Excuse me?" Averey asked, her eyebrows coming towards each other.

"You didn't care about Iris,” Bartholomew said, slowly shaking his head back and forth. “You never did."

"That's not true.”

"You've always disliked her. Been jealous of her.” Bartholomew took slow steps towards her. Barry stepped between the two of them, lifting a hand in warning to Bartholomew. “Why? She never did anything to you."

"Barry-”

Bartholomew gave a humorless laugh. “I thought it was ‘B’,” he said, sarcastically. All traces of humor left his face, replaced by a stony look. "Why are you here? Why did you come here? Why did you ever have to come here? Into my life?” His voice grew louder and louder with each word until he was shouting. “Why?” Averey flinched at the sudden outburst.

"Hey, man, just chill out,” Barry said, gently pushing Bartholomew back. “Ok? She just wants to help."

Bartholomew pointed a menacing finger over Barry’s shoulder. “My life would be fine without you. If you had never come here, none of this would have ever happened.” He then grasped Barry by the shoulders. “ Don't trust her. You can't trust her. You never could."

"Hey, come on." Barry looked at Averey over his shoulder. Averey kept her gaze on Bartholomew, facing the wild look of anger in his eyes, with a searching one of her own. What had she done?

"What do you even know about her? Huh?” Bartholomew asked Barry. Barry opened and closed his mouth. Bartholomew shook him. “What? What do you know about her?” His wiled expression turned back to Averey asking the same question over and over again, “Why are you here? Why? Why?!"

"We should go,” Averey said. Barry nodded in agreement.

Bartholomew removed his grip from Barry’s shoulders. “Yeah, yeah you should go,” he agreed, moving back to the corner he had previously occupied. He kept his back to them as they left, calling to them over his shoulder, “"You can't trust her. I trusted her. And look where that got me."

“He’s just upset -- I’m just upset,” Barry said, falling into the quick steps that Averey took away from the Time Vault.

“Clearly,” Averey said with a snort. “How could you not be? It’s Iris we’re talking about!”

“We’ll figure this out,” Barry insisted. His footsteps slowed and came to a stop as they came to the Cortex. Cisco stood in the center of the room, staring at the dark alcove, at the covered mannequins that used to house the suits of Flash and Visionary. He glanced over at Averey’s profile, and then cleared his throat. “Um, I’ll go check the Pipeline. See if there’s anything I can figure out why we’re stuck?”

“Whatever, B,” Averey said quietly, watching Cisco.

“So, yeah.” Barry turned on his heels, and made his way towards the Pipeline.

Averey sucked in a breath of air, taking steps into the empty Cortex. She wasn’t used to seeing it so empty. So lifeless. The lack of beeps and whirs she had grown so accustomed to unnerved her. It was too quiet, now.

“What’d he say?” Cisco asked, turning around to face her.

“Nothing that will help,” Averey replied. “He’s not going to help us. Barry’s gone to see if he can figure out how to get us home.”

“Now?” Cisco asked, his eyebrows shooting up. “You’re going to leave now? With Mirror Master and The Top running around?”

“We’re going back with the same thing we came with; nothing,” Averey said, burying her fingers into her hair. She slid her hands back through her hair before clasping the back of her neck. “Barry’s too distraught over Iris, and we still have Savitar back home to deal with. We can’t be gone for too long.”

“So, you’re just going to leave Central City? Leave us? Again?” Cisco asked.

“Either we leave 2024 now, or leave our Central City in the hands of Savitar without anyone to protect them. We have no choice.”

“Yes, you do,” Cisco insisted. “Whatever’s going on with Savitar already happened. If you and Barry help us now, it could make things better! There’s always a choice.”

“And i keep making the wrong ones,” Averey said, her voice cracking.

“Vee,” Cisco said quietly. He opened his mouth, wanting to say more, before he closed it, pulling his cardigan closer around him.

“Everyone around me just keeps getting hurt,” Averey said, her voice almost a whisper.

“That’s not true.”

“I hurt you. I-I keep hurting you. All I’ve done is hurt you.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“How can you say that?” Averey burst out. Cisco merely blinked in her direction. “I ghosted you after I got arrested; I never really broke up with you, but I broke up with you.”

“Yeah, that sucked,” Cisco agreed, scratching at a spot under his jaw. “But, we got through it.”

Averey started pacing. She curled her fingers into fists, trying to stop the sudden shaking of her hands. “Oh, and then, I dropped you because I was afraid of commitment, but then still went on to date someone else.”

“That was Earth-2, you,” Cisco pointed out. “Doesn’t really count. And, actually it’s kind of justified. Earth-2 me is a real dick.”

“Oh, and then,” Averey said with a wild laugh, “I told you I loved you before telling Barry to go save his mom, and completely erased all of that. And in Flasphoint we only went on one date, despite how much we clicked, because I couldn’t get over that you had a successful business, and reckoned it would be inevitable that you’d find someone as smart as you, and I was trying to limit the bloody fallout before we got to whatever bloody expiration date I was sure was coming.”

“If I remember correctly, that was Flashpoint you, which wasn’t really you?” Cisco said it as more of a question, closing one eye, scratching at the back of his head. “I think? Or it is, but just in a different time? The timelines get a little fuzzy when you’re not actively keeping up with it.”

“And I bet I wasn’t the greatest supporter about your hands, either,” Averey said, speaking over the end of his sentence, waving her hand vaguely in his direction.

Cisco adjusted the sleeves of his cardigan before crossing his arms over his chest. He let out a sigh through his nose, watching as Averey buried her face into her hands. “You were great, actually,” he said, stepping over to her. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “You were with me every step of the way. You helped me keep my notes organized on how to create these new hands, you helped me come to terms with no longer being Vibe. You were there until you weren’t. Once Barry made it clear he didn’t -- that he couldn’t keep doing this -- it wasn’t that long after that you went off on your own, too. You were saying it would be better if you weren’t around.”

“That’s what Bartholomew was saying,” Averey said, wiping at her now wet eyes with the heels of her palms. “That his life was better before I came around. Maybe he’s right.”

“Sure, maybe he said that, and maybe he believes it-” Averey’s face scrunched up in a look of despair, “-but that’s not true for me.” Averey scoffed. “Hey, listen,” Cisco said, reaching up to take her hands. “I don’t blame you for any of that, Vee. For anything you’ve done. Or will do. I don’t. My life became so much better because I met you.

“You keep forgiving me,” Averey said with a sniff. She swallowed thickly, letting out a shaky breath. “Why? Why do you keep forgiving me?”

“Because I love you,” Cisco said simply. “Whether we’re together or not -- nothing will change that. It hasn’t changed that.”

Averey slowly shook her head back and forth. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“Actually, yeah, by 2024 I kind of do,” Cisco said and Averey let out a small laugh. “And I don’t care. In all those times, we still had something, right? It may not have always worked out, but we did find each other.” He gently tugged at her hands, pulling Averey close enough to him to wrap his arms around her in a hug. “It’s ok. Everything will be ok. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that, mate” Averey said into his chest, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. “I keep stuffing things up.”

“And you still found me here; waiting to help you any way I could,” Cisco replied. He rest his chin atop her head. “It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok.”

-

Tag List: @foxesandmagic @ochub @darknightfrombeyond @hogwarts-is-my-wonderland @codenamekryptonite @witchofinterest

#witchofinterest #answered ask #ask #prompt #inbox game #fd: the flash #barry allen #cisco ramon #oc: averey moore #cisco x averey #averey!the flash #rhuben answered #authored by: rhuben